Adrenaline Fix in Jinja

Most of the decisions I’m making on this trip are made after being unable to answer the question: “Well you’re here, so why not?!” That’s how I ended up taking two days to jump off a ledge almost 150 feet above the Nile River and go rafting, for the first time ever, in class V white water rapids.

Our "team", before we started

Adrift Adventures picked my friends and me up in Kampala early in the morning and drove us out (about an hour and a half) to the starting point for our adventure up the river. As we boarded the raft and went over the instructions, my friends and I tried making jokes to hide our fear, but the guide kept on with his straight faced tips, which made us second guess this decision even more. 

Soon enough, we were approaching our first rapid and I was yelling at myself "WHYDOYOUALWAYSDOSTUPIDSTUFFLIKETHISYOUARESOSTUPIDTHISWASASTUPIDIDEAANDNOWITSTOOLATETOTURNAROUND!!" for allowing it to come this far.  But, we made it through and it was awesome! Moving over the rapids while in the raft you are literally walking on rapid waters (well, sitting and gliding on it really). It’s like a roller coaster, but way, way cooler.

Our raft floated along thirty or so kilometers (almost twenty miles) of the Nile, with rapids interrupted by occasional patches of calm water. Then, our guide told us we were coming up on the most intense rapid of the course. We had three routes to choose from. The first was called “chicken walk”, the second was something else mellow sounding, and the third was “the bad place”. This third option is only available when the waters are really high, "like today", otherwise it's too dangerous because there are so many rocks and the water can suck you down too far. Really, we didn’t have a choice.

As we made our way towards the rapid, the clouds became grey and we heard thunder in the distance. “If I were going to write a horror story about rafting, this is how it would start,” joked Sera, nervously. We got out of the raft to walk around the class VI rapid, and before I knew it we were bracing ourselves for "the bad place".

Tipping over in "the bad place"

It took about four seconds for our raft to tip over, and as our guide had instructed, I curled myself up into fetal position and tried to mentally put myself in a “happy place” as the water pushed me left, right, up, and down. I know I made it to five counting slowly, thinking about my "happy place"; I tried to remain calm for what felt like at least another ten seconds –but was probably three-, and then I started to panic. Luckily, as I flared my hands upwards like a lunatic, I felt air, and soon enough I got a breath of air, before water pushed me back under.

One of the wonderful safety guides quickly came on kayak to get me, and in no time we were all back on the raft laughing, wanting another. Adrenaline is crazy like that—not even five minutes earlier I had thought I was going to die, and now I couldn’t wait to be in the same position again.

Coming up for air

We floated down the water for a while longer before hitting our final rapid, which was relatively calm compared to the previous, but still an enormous amount of fun. Here our guide actually instructed us to allow ourselves to go over the rapid twice, which was awesome.

After rafting we were treated to a delicious lunch buffet and driven to the Adrift lodge, right outside Jinja. If you find yourself in Uganda, white water rafting is an absolute must, and I highly recommend going through Adrift and staying at their lodge. While you sit at the bar, you look over the world’s greatest river, and watch people bungee jump in front of you, all while drinking a cold Nile Special beer. The atmosphere is great too—you’re surrounded by a ton of adrenaline junkies!

To wrap up the trip, the next morning my friends and I climbed the stairs up to the bungee jumping platform… and jumped! I don’t have much to say about bungee jumping, because there really isn’t much to it. I climbed the stairs to the top, I watched my friend before me jump, I sat in the chair while they strapped me up, I walked to the ledge while following instructions and making sure I did not look down, I counted down from five, and then I jumped, screaming bloody murder. I’m really glad I did it, but I have no desire to do it again (Dad, you can breathe easy now). After rafting, I felt a great sense of accomplishment. I had helped paddle the raft, and swam myself to safety-- albeit with a lot of assistance. After bungee jumping, I just felt sore. Still, it was an unforgettable experience and I feel so lucky to have had the opportunity to do it all, and come out alive to tell you about it. 

Kampala

I have news for all you New Yorkers who think you’re tough because you live in ‘the city’. You’ve got nothing on Kampala.

Excited that city buses only allow 3 people per row

A city at the heart of a country in the heart of Africa, Kampala is real and raw. The striking contrasts between Uganda and Rwanda’s capitals were both refreshing and overwhelming. Riding around town on a piki-piki (one of Kampala’s many old motorcycles) and enjoying the delicious variety of street food was very fun; almost getting run over by a piki-piki while trying to avoid the monstrous, smelly piles of trash was not.

I didn't spend long in Kampala, but I really enjoyed my time there and found most of the people I met to be very friendly and welcoming. My friends and I wandered the streets of downtown, rubbing elbows with policewomen in boots and skirts, dodging fruit vendors that appeared out of nowhere, drooling over the various fried food options, and haggling with mamas in dress shops. 

Police women in uniform

Distracted by, well, everything, the sun began to set before we found transportation back to our hostel. Zig-zagging through the downtown taxi park, I was somewhere between uncontrollable giggles and a panic screams. Kampala's main commuter station made Kigali's Nyabigogo look like a dentist's waiting office.

Thanksgiving Feast of Rolex and sausage

Murchison Falls

Following a lovely respite at Lake Bunyoni, Rita and I said goodbye to our friend Virginia and headed for Murchison Falls in northern Uganda. The Kampala based backpacker's hostel, Red Hot Chili Hideaway, offers a 3 day budget safari of the National Park that had been recommended to us by friends and that I now recommend to you. 

Our first stop was at the actual falls, which are pretty spectacular. We took a small walk around the top and caught fantastic views of the water and some rainbows. Fun facts: there are actually two falls—Murchison (named after the British Royal Geographic Society President), which has existed for centuries; and Uhuru, which formed around the same time the country of Uganda declared its independence (hence the name, uhuru Swahili for freedom) after floods forced a second path for water. In the 1950's, Ernest Hemingway was flying over the falls and crashed in the bush nearby.

 

In another life, I hope to come back to earth as an animal in Murchison Falls National Park. The largest park in Uganda, it is split down the middle by the Nile River. The southern side of the park is densely forested and home to lots of warthogs, baboons, and beautiful birds. On the north bank the park is much more savanna-like; allowing us to enjoy views of giraffe, elephants, several antelopes, and more beautiful birds. There are some lions in the park, but our arrival towards the end of rainy season (when the grass is very long and starting to yellow) made seeing them difficult. 

Floating down the Nile

Red-throated bee-eater

We took a fabulous boat safari along the Nile River up to the site of the falls, careful not to run into any of the many hippo families and crocodiles that line the shores. Again, I can’t rave enough about the beautiful birds—particularly the colorful bee-eaters that look like rainbow popsicles and the Pied Kingfishers that look like ballet dancers twirling over the water as the fly. 

Sunrise at Murchison Falls 

up close and personal with the elephants

Lake Bunyoni

Lake Bunyoni (literally translated, the place of many little birds) is a must stop for any bird lover in East Africa. My good friend Rita and I both happen to be bird lovers living in East Africa, so before I was too far from Rwanda, we made a trip. The island is home to over 200 species of birds. Beautiful, colorful, singing birds! I’m pretty sure while at Lake Bunyoni we also converted our friend Virginia.

From Kabale, we took a twenty minute taxi ride to the edge of Lake Bunyoni where we were dropped off at the small dock for Byoona Amagara-- our hotel. From the dock, we were given the choice of paying for a motorboat or taking the free wooden canoe to the hotel. I’ll give you one guess as to which option we took.

Our canoe ride took about forty five minutes, and my exhaustion after paddling off and on throughout made me a little nervous for the white water rafting trip I had planned the next week…but more on that later.

unpacking in the geodome

Once off the boat, we were shown to our own personal geodome. This “room” was an open hut, allowing us to take in the beautiful views of the lake and the birds while still in bed.

geodome

Byoona Amagara is a self-proclaimed “traveler’s paradise” and came highly recommended by various Peace Corps and VSO Volunteers. The reviews held mostly true. It is certainly a backpackers place and very camp-y, so if that’s not your scene, I would look into other options on the island. The staff is mostly friendly, accommodations are nice and the price is very reasonable—although everything besides the room is extra, including hot showers and any battery charging you might need (the geodomes do not have electricity).  There is a small library on the property, as well as other entertainment options you can pay for.   

If you find yourself visiting Lake Bunyoni (which you absolutely should if you're in Rwanda or Uganda), I would recommend Byoona Amagara, with some additional suggestions to make your stay even better: make sure all your electronics are charged ahead of time; bring binoculars and a book or two (maybe even a bird guide); pack some snacks—the restaurant is good, but it’s your only option and can get a bit tiresome and expensive. On that note-- make sure you have enough Ugandan Schillings for everything! Credit cards are not accepted and while US dollars are, the exchange rate is awful. 

My friends and I spent a lovely few days on Lake Bunyoni at Byoona Amagara. The combination of beautiful birds, good food (I highly recommend the avocado crayfish dish), and general relaxing/vacation vibe (long naps, jumps into the lake, swings, and nature walks included) were a fantastic start to my newest adventure; and a well needed rest after the long, two-year Peace Corps adventure I just completed. 

view from our geodome

The Adventures Begin! -- Kabale, Uganda

From Saint Paul’s Hostel in downtown Kigali, I headed to the Nyabigogo Bus Station. My big bag weighed heavily on my back as the driver inched up Kigali’s hills; gravity and my pack fighting to push me off the small motorcycle seat. In Nyabigogo, I met up with two other friends who were joining me for the start of my adventure. First stop: Uganda. More precisely, the town of Kabale, in Southwest Uganda.

If Kabale rings a bell, it’s probably because over the last few months the city has been the epicenter of Uganda’s most recent public health crisis: Ebola virus and Marburg fever. I am happy to report that neither my friends nor I contracted either deadly virus or fever, and the town itself seemed to be doing just fine.

Virginia, ready for Uganda

In Kigali, we mounted a Kampala Coach bus, which takes passengers from Kigali all the way to Uganda’s capital, Kampala in about fifteen hours. Less than three hours after our departure, we arrived at the border, where we were asked to dismount the bus, check out through Rwanda’s immigration office, walk across the border, and check in at Uganda’s immigration desk before getting back on the road.

My friends and I knew we were no longer in Rwanda the second we saw street food. In Rwanda, innocent civilians are deprived daily of the culinary delights that are fried street foods because of “sanitary and hygiene concerns”. Uganda seems to have its priorities more clearly in line, and street food is abundant. More on the escapades of my taste buds later.

Less than an hour after crossing the border, we were motioned off the bus. Welcome to Kabale! Eager motorcycle and taxi drivers offered to take us anywhere, but being the cheap (Returned) Peace Corps Volunteer that I am, I walked.

Bunks at Home of Edirisa

The walk to Home of Edirisa, a hostel recommended to me by other volunteers, took longer than I had expected, but offered a great first glance at Uganda. The streets seemed less organized and dirtier than Rwanda’s, yet somehow more vibrant and definitely wealthier: more grocery stores, more banks, and more clothing stores with more clothing. Amazing how, despite the distance being only a few kilometers, the differences between Rwanda and Uganda were so clear to me.

At the Home of Edirisa, we sat down for a nice, long lunch. The atmosphere and the place itself were nice, the food was fine once it got to the table, but the wait time for food tested even my well trained patience.

Rita, traditional umbrella model

For the unbeatable price of 9,000 Ugandan Shillings, the decision to stay the night was pretty easy. $3.50 got me not only a clean bunk bed and warm-ish shower, but a free tour of the “museum”. A very friendly staff member showed us around a large room where a traditional hut had been built and lots of traditional decorations hung. The guide explained everything along the way, including the traditional umbrellas, which I obviously tried on. 

The rest of our time in Kabale was spent admiring street food, admiring the shelves of Ugandan grocery stores (they have maple syrup!)…admiring food in general. 

Murabeho, mu Rwanda

On November 15, I officially finished my service with Peace Corps and became a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer-- although it will still be a few months before I return home.

During my last two weeks in Rwanda, I tried to write this post, but couldn’t. I thought perhaps some geographical and temporal distance would give me the perspective necessary to neatly summarize the last two years of my life. Maybe more miles and more years will help; for now I can only tell you that two countries and three weeks are not enough.

As a very eager college freshman, I went to the office hours of my assigned adviser in the School of Industrial and Labor Relations. I felt determined to get to know this professor for several reasons: sitting in on his class as a pre-frosh had been a big factor in my decision to attend Cornell; many students had warned me about his rigorous coursework and tough grading; and finally, I had heard he was a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer.

“I heard you did the Peace Corps! Did you like it?!” my enthusiastic, eighteen year old self blurted out to the six-foot-something, square glasses, bow-tie-and-suspender-wearing Ivy League Professor. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

“Did I like it? That’s like asking someone if they like breathing. You don’t like it—you just do it.”

At the time, I found the response to be rather odd. Now, after two years in the Peace Corps, I find it to be the most appropriate response to such an absurd question.

There are people, places, tastes, sights, and smells that I have liked—no, that I have loved-- about my Peace Corps experience. My heart aches to think that I will probably never again pester my fourteen year old neighbor Kabebe as to whether or not his mother has eggs to sell me. I will miss the casual nights with friends drinking lukewarm Primus and savoring brochettes. On my last night at post, staring out at the sun setting over the hills facing my “backyard”, I thought perhaps leaving was a mistake after all. Of course, there were many moments throughout the last two years where I had thought of nothing but making it to that last night… but I did it.  

I am so grateful for the amazing opportunities and experiences that the last twenty six months have brought me. From the first rays of sun that so brutally hit my body in Niger, to the mud-caked shoes I scrubbed clean during rainy season in Rwanda—it’s been a trip.

I have learned a lot about myself: that I am an emotional eater, and in times of stress all food items containing large amounts of flour and/or oil should be kept at bay. I’d also like to think that I’ve learned a bit about “the world”; certainly about Rwanda: that development statistics don’t tell the whole story, and that in the face of complete mental, physical, and emotional destruction, people are much more resilient than you’d think. I have learned that I am one of the luckiest people in the world.

And now, it’s time for the next adventure! Over the next four months I plan to travel overland to eight or nine countries—from Kigali all the way down to Cape Town. Various friends are joining me for different parts of the trip, and I’m making several stops along the way to visit other friends and friends-of-friends. The itinerary is very flexible. For the first time in my life, “the next step” is completely blank, but I feel very confident and hopeful about it.

Stay tuned!

Dad visits Rwanda, and blogs about it!

Just before it was too late I had the long wished for opportunity to visit my daughter in Rwanda. We had been communicating regularly by telephone and email and had even seen her briefly twice in the past two years, and we had, of course, read this blog and seen many photos, so we thought we had a pretty good understanding of her experience. Of course, I was wrong. Totally wrong. In this case, the cliché about “having to experience it” is most apt. My week in Rwanda was wonderful, incredibly informative, and certainly unforgettable. I left feeling tremendously proud of my daughter (don’t mean to embarrass you, Alma, but that’s the deal…) and also proud of the Peace Corps, not so much for the help they provide, though I see there is plenty of that, but for the extraordinary dual service they perform on behalf of our country: first, I think it would be a huge mistake to underestimate the diplomatic value of Peace Corps volunteers. They do represent our country wonderfully and the relationships they create “out in the field” do pay dividends. Secondly, Peace Corps volunteers create a magnificent pool of extremely talented, world-wise, multilingual, problem-solving individuals that greatly enrich our present and future leadership class. I had a vague idea that this was the case, but now I’ve seen it for real. Cheers to you and to all PCVs. That’s the feel good part.

Lodging in Ruanda: I stayed in three perfectly comfortable hotels, Chez Landa in Kigali at the end of the week, a lodge at the entrance to Nyungwe Forest National Park, and Hotel Paradis in Gisenyi, on beautiful Lake Kivu. My first night in Ruanda we stayed at a hotel that reminded me of my poorest student days. Dim light, depressing furnishings, cracked walls... but, it was fine. The other hotels were quite comfortable. Hotel Paradis lived up to it's name, no for the accommodations, which were fine, but for the spectacular surroundings. A tropical paradise. That was the tourist experience. The two nights at my daughter's site in Munini... that was the real deal. No electricity, no running water, and a latrine the likes of which I had not experienced in several decades. No, that's inaccurate. That was a completely new experience.

Hija mía, two years like this?! That is serious. That has to change you. Big time. Of course, it's not just, nor even principally, the loss of typical, rich country comforts that will change one, though I'm sure that it has a huge impact. It's all that in combination with being in a thoroughly different culture. You're white where no one else is. People stare. Really stare. Want to feel like a freak? I've got a place for you to visit. I don't want to insist too much on what's fairly obvious, but it's worth remembering: language, beliefs, climate, history... it's all so different. You absorb it little by little, adapt, evolve, integrate. One day you realize you're not the same person you were six months ago, a year ago. Your horizon is wider, your field of vision deeper. When I was 20 years old I experienced this during a nine month stay in Madrid, Spain. It had a huge impact on me. Alma, what you've experienced over the past two years makes my experience seem like a stroll over to the next village.

Ruandans: I liked the Ruandans I met. They were friendly and seemed genuinely glad that I was there. I need to make a special mention of Augustin Mudahunga, our driver for two days. When my daughter mentioned she was going to hire a driver, I was skeptical. A driver? Really, that sounds like something for the super rich. I'd just rent a car. Nooo, good call, Alma. To call the route that runs north/south along the eastern shore of Lake Kivu a "road" is somewhat of an overstatement. Yowzer! Again, you have to experience it. Augustin was fantastic. He's a very skilled driver; more importantly, a wonderful guide and a very kind, pleasant man. If you go to Rwanda, make sure Augustin Mudahunga is your driver! The people in Alma's village were also kind and interesting. It was wonderful and extremely satisfying to have my daughter, fully integrated into the community, be my interpreter and guide! But what life is really like for adult Ruandans... I couldn't really understand, of course. Who can? In the back of my mind always was the genocide. How does a society move forward from something like that? Could it ever happen again? I don't have any answers, but I can say I'm glad I left reading about the genocide for AFTER the trip. Romeo Dallaire's Shake Hands with the Devil: The Failure of Humanity in Rwanda is an extraordinary book. Infuriating and heartbreaking.

Rwanda is a beautiful country. Land of a thousand hills. Indeed! The Nyungwe Forest is a real gem and it was a treat to be able to take a nice hike in it. Green valleys everywhere! People everywhere! The "buses"! I thinking some of my bones are still vibrating. I saw an awful lot in one week, met many people, was given much to think about.  I'm still digesting it. Thank you, Alma, for your service! And thank you for teaching your old man so much!