Mazungus in the Mist

We've taken a side trip.

With the encouragement of our sponsors, we've taken a few days to travel to the south of Uganda. The road is the main highway also leading to the Republic of Congo, and the traffic is a little notorious, so we hired a local guide to get us through the rough spots, including the 250 miles between here and the mountain gorillas in Bwindi, and the 12 hours it takes to get there along the dusty, muddy unpaved road through Queen Elizabeth National Park. http://www.kilimanjaro.com/uganda/qenp.htm
This park joins Kibale and extends further to the south.

We're not kidding when we say this road had potholes. In fact, some were hip-deep on an adult, and we all felt like jello by the end of the day. We were unable to get out of the car for various reasons until the main part of the trip was completed, but mostly due to the cape buffalo, lions, african kab, waterbuck, wild boar, hyena, elephants running amok...you get the picture--lots of animals. You can't just stroll down the road in rural Uganda--you'll be someone's dinner.

Bwindi Forest was incredible. Steep mountain peaks hovering in clouds, breezes cool and brisk, lush green mist with everything growing on everything, and lastly, the gorillas at the end of a grueling 3 hour hike on mountain switchbacks. We came face to face with the gentle giants almost hunted to extention less than 30 years ago, and it was a life-changing experience. We sat among them for an hour as their children played, the silverback looked on with wary interest at the white monkeys staring at his family. They are so like us. Looking into their faces and seeing the intelligence was beautiful.

After two nights in the dripping, vibrant freshness we headed back towards Kampala, stopping at a Safari Lodge on the way posted with armed guards. (So close to the Congo, it is necessary for tourist safety, and to keep we Americans from wandering down the road to far into imminent danger). Members of the Ugandan Wildlife Authority also stay with us there.

We saw the hippos the following afternoon, waddling and eating, soaking and spraying, yawning and yawning and YAWNING from the cool water of the nearby lake.

We all wanted to jump into the cool water from the boat--into the channel that connects Lake Albert and Lake George within the confines of the park. The people from the fishing villages lined the banks, and looked like they were having such a good time bathing, washing clothes and filling bottles of the wet stuff--but we couldn't. Unfortunately the water bodies in Uganda have a snail larvae that burrows under the skind and gives foreigners a disease called schistosomiasis (Belharzia). Areas with reed beds, stagnant water, and/or high human use are the most likely places to catch it. The disease can last for up to 20 years, and as locals don't mind, few Americans can learn to be okay with the idea of worms mating in our bodies until our brains turn to mush. Yeah--so, no swimming for the monkechatters.

However, we saw over thirty species of birds, and crocodiles sunning themselves with open mouths--some 14ft long at least. The cape buffalo sat in the shallow water and stared at us as we floated by, and some moved if we came to close. It was like the Jungle ride at Disney--but much, much better!

We left for Kampala the next morning. After 9 hours of the Bwindi-Congo road, we arrived in the capital city where, as far as we can tell, the horn is the only form of government. Cars all converge into and intersection at once, facing off and honking. Instead of waving each other on, they just honk...for a while.

If you have a bigger horn or a slippery driver (like the mutatu taxi drivers...the white mini-vans with people, chickens and luggage streaming out all windows and over capacity by at least 6 people) you seem to travel faster from place to place.

There is also the motorcycle taxi, called a bodaboda--the cheapest way to get anywhere, and the most sure way to land in the hospital for their penchant to cut through the space between car bumpers stacked in a waiting line. If chosing to ride on a bodaboda, you learn to say to the driver sternly 'Sir, if any part of my body even slightly grazes an object, YOU DON'T get paid, understand?!?!?" sometimes you get lucky and they do pay attention...

At rest in a Kampala hotel with running water and a comfy bed (we are all so shocked) we hardly know what to do with ourselves. We may actually have a cold softdrink...and ice (such luxury) before we head back south to Kanyawara Village. The girls took long baths and then jumped up and down on the beds.

Monkeychatters