Juggling two bags and something hanging off every one of my limbs (I may as well have been Waldo), I eagerly waited for my boda to collect me at 6am to commence my weekend getaway to Jinja to white water raft the Nile! The main thrill of my approaching weekend was obviously rafting, however, there IS something to be said about surviving the 7 hour trek TO Jinja on a hand-me-down charter bus from the 90’s.
Waldo boarded the Post Bus solo to stake out her territory, which she discovered was absolutely pointless because along with cheese, personal space does not exist in Uganda. Don’t be surprised if the back seat sleeve commonly used for storing magazines is now a storage space for your neighbor’s shoes, or if your neighbor is a chicken. Sitting shoulder to shoulder would have been luxurious compared to the clavicle to clavicle seating arrangement. Thankfully, the windows were so dirty that you can’t exactly see the road or lack thereof as we connected the dots from asphalt patch to asphalt patch to Kampala.
Opening your window during one of the few stops in route is an open invite for vendors to stuff your face with suspicious kebabs, live chickens, and roasted bananas (not bad). At the only potty stop, expect to pay 200 shillings to an unauthorized doorman so you can hover over a hole in the ground. Hands down, quote of the day, “Excuse me sir, but I think that is my chicken.”
For Kampala being more polluted than Los Angeles, to my surprise, it was quite comforting and familiar to be in the presence of electricity, noise, and traffic again. A friend of a friend’s boda awaited my arrival to carry me dripping in accessories to the next leg of my trip: the Matoto bus park.
Even though it was only a 10 min. ride, I think I managed to pray for God’s protection about 100 times as my driver and I snaked throughout the swarm of other bodas, buses, and even cows. Thankfully, my ignorant big mouth was able to lighten the mood when after passing a “ZEBRA CROSSING” road sign I confidently blurted out, “There are no zebras in Kampala!” After gathering himself, my boda informed me that zebra crossing refers to pedestrian crossing as the lines on the road are black and white. Damn...
The Matato “bus” park was a circus - right down to the sight of an unfathomable amount of people pouring out of a van like clowns. Easily a thousand of these vans, which no doubt were what your parents drove when they were hippies cluttered an abandoned soccer field. Amidst all the drivers auctioning off their “special” price from every direction, I managed to pair up with my fellow Muzungu pals and the six of us plus six more randoms squeezed ourselves into a nine seater. Lovely, ha.
Jinja is the Palos Verdes of LA. Green, lush, scenic, and clean. The Nile River Camp where we stayed had to have been designed by a boy scout because this place was an adult jungle gym! Platforms just big enough for your full size 2 person tent strategically lined the slope of a hill that perfectly overlooked the Nile. Awww... Two Nile Special beers and too many card games later, us campers rested ourselves for tomorrow’s thrill.
Our guide was one bad ass woman. Ripped. Scars of experience. Total stud. She sat us down for a safety lecture, which…aren’t they all the same? Life vests and helmets on at all times…keep limbs inside the boat, wa-wa etc.
Um, NO.
I started paying attention when she said, “Now I want to remind you all that as human beings, we DO have the ability to hold our breath 10 to 15 secs. Don’t freak out and think you’re going to drown when you’re not able to come up for air when you want. Wait it out and count in your head.”
((Record scratch)) Excuse me!? Ok, I’m listening.
After some rehearsal flip drills, paddle techniques, and commands we mushed off to our first class 5 rapid. Disneyland’s Splash Mountain DOES exist in real life folks. Holy cow poop. Our 7 man boat ping ponged between monster water wheel waves for a heavy 15 secs. (although, felt muuuch longer) and spat us out safely– WOOHOO!
Hmm, uh...where’s our guide??
Holy cow poop again.
We definitely did not rehearse the “what-to-do-when-only-your-guide-falls” out drill. QUITE the intro. Awesome! Fear not, the safety crew reached our boat and plucked her out in seconds and we continued to fake like we knew what we’re were doing down 5 more rapids. I really could go on like a little kid how exhilarating this adult roller coaster was but you get the point. If nothing else, I HIGHLY, 100% recommend, please, you MUST try rafting if given the opportunity.
Next milestone…?
Conquering giardia. A bacterial infection caused by drinking contaminated water. However, I’m honestly surprised this is first time I’ve caught it considering I grew up hiking in the Sierras (you done darn good Ma!). Curable with meds and not uncommon here.
Along with my insides, my skin has also undergone some crazy adjustments. Half the time I don’t know whether I’m covered in dirt or a tan. My face is one big freckle and I don’t think I’ve had such bad break outs since my freshman year of high school.
Now Isaac, my dear boy… He’s the younger brother I never had. School doesn’t start for another week and he chooses to spend his last week off at school reading and writing.
Last week I met his family, which may have been my most profound moment in Uganda yet. The resemblance between Isaac and his mom is uncanny. She buckled at my feet in gratitude. I have NEVER felt so appreciated…worshipped…idolized. I’m not worthy… Still struggling to wrap my head around the intensity of how great a role one plays in their family up until they marry and start their own here. I quickly learned that when you support and create a relationship with a student, you are also gaining 1,2…5 new family members. How lucky am I..?
You know those places and people you meet and you’re just struck with this undeniable hunch of “I have to bring my kids here someday…”? Along with meeting Isaac's family THAT is the effect home(hut) visits have left me with. They have completely solidified Uganda as one of my new stomping grounds. Denish, my colleague and translator has adopted me as his "sister," has become my dear friend, and has taught me a lifetime’s worth of Ugandan culture and knowledge.
Overall, I have definitely entered a new chapter here from the “Honeymoon” (beginning) stage, to “We’re not in Kanas anymore” (shit happens, powers out, deal with it) stage, to now…"This is home."
Creeping up on the half way mark - 2 months down, 2 more to go. Bittersweet…
With September comes the start of Term III and Mt. Kenya prep and summit! BOOM. Second highest peak in Africa next to Kilimanjaro reaching 17,000 ft. elevation (Kili 20,000 ft). My good friend here and I are doing the 6 day Sirimon – Chogoria traverse end of next month. She is the ONLY other person I’ve met who has also climbed Kili aside from my original group in '07. We are in for a…frostbite/altitude sickness/technical climb/wildlife spotting/“what the H are doing?!”/this is AWESOME treat.
Cheers to work, life, and play. Wake up everrry morning GRATEFUL. Say your prayers and take a moment to get to know someone you normally would never give the second time of day (you’ll love it).
*Special thanks to editor Alana Garrigues and The Beach Reporter for featuring Mercy’s Village, Isaac, and I!! You can find the article at:
http://tbrnews.com/articles/2012/08/24/hermosa_beach_news/news25.txt
**Isaac’s link is and will remain live. For those interested and currently involved, I will send out an update and donation request during the middle of each month. We are in the process of finding schools for him to apply to for Senior 5 and 6. I am handling all of his finances. Come November, Nancy (Peace Corps Volunteer who was present at Coffee Hut when Isaac and I first met) or my trusted work partner Denish will take over. If you would like to make a donation to Isaac’s School Fees Fund please click here:
https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&hosted_button_id=RZYSSUTTA4888
AFOYO!
Nile Special on the Nile
Bye guide!
Mama Mercy, Mercy, and family
Beach featured in The Beach Reporter
