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Oliyotia!
It has been quite a tumultuous past few days with a few unexpected twists, turns and adventures most of which have been quite memorable on a variety of levels. So, since I left off I was in Tororo (my stomping grounds of last July) where I spent only 2 nights but an action packed day zipping around the countryside clinging for life on the back of a pika pika (motorcycle) as I was getting chauffeured from village to village on a whirlwind meet and greet tour. This was definitely the Rock Star portion of my journey thus far.
My friend and colleague from last summer has started a new organization over the past year and obviously misinterpreted my announcement that “I am coming to Tororo to visit friends” as “I have come to Tororo to attend meetings all over the district, give speeches on topics I know nothing about to hundreds of people who believe you can magically cure all of their economic and health ailments and visit each and every member of your family within a 30 km radius… Oh, and you will also pay for all of my fuel, food for me and whomever I decide
to share my Mzungu with.” No problem. To make a long story short I proceeded to jet set across country roads* to attend meetings my friend Moses had arranged for me to attend. Essentially the meetings would consist of me arriving to hordes of women screaming and swarming the Mzungu (yes I am a big deal in Tororo) and shaking hands followed by accompanying the people into the field to watch them and help them collect grass/corn/cassava followed by speeches by long, long speeches in dhopadola (local language) to the keynote speaker (me) who would pull some random speech out of my ass trying to temper their wild expectations of mzungus followed by a wild sendoff. Repeat several times broken up by many unexpected and unannounced detours and personal visits.
I left Tororo completely exhausted and went to Mabira forest about 4 hours away for some peace and quiet after 5 consecutive nights at the bar some quiet space would be welcome. Mabira was a bit too quiet. I was alone in the campsite in the middle of a massive jungle with the exception of troops of red tailed monkeys. Food and water was about half a kilometer away
and food was only of the street meat variety (incredibly tasty, but a bit risky). Deep in the jungle it was dark by 6:30 and I built a fire after several unsuccessful attempts. The following day I went for a long hike in the jungle to a nearby hilltop. Partway through I began reading through the pamphlet to find out it has one of the largest concentrations of venomous snakes in Uganda. Fantastic. So, do I keep my eyes no the ground to watch for cobras or do I look to the trees for mambas? Officially out of my element. The forest is also home to leopards (didn’t see them but heard them), tons of monkeys, and butterflies as well as over 300 species of birds. After returning exhausted (jungle air is heavy and humid), I napped in the sun and woke up with a horrible fever and every inch of my body was sore and aching. A bit alarmed and realizing how isolated I was I immediately packed up camp and sought the company of others in case my health deteriorated. Malaria is no joke and I’m still not 100% convinced I am malaria free and so I headed
back to Jinja.
I slept for most of the day in Jinja, still feeling quite rotten and without any appetite. The next morning the troops of mzungus from Kampala arrived for rafting and gave in and sick as a dog signed up for a second day on the river. Best decision EVER. I felt golden on the river and in the water. My boat wanted to go uber extreme and this time I found myself in the water 3 times unexpectedly and upside down more often then we should have been. The waterfalls are by far the most frightening but what you must really be weary of is the 7 foot wave on the bottom that promise to turn you upside down if they don’t knock the wind out of you as you collide with the impact of a car crash.
On the last rapid (also the biggest) our guide offered this ominous warning, “If we are upside down, do NOT go to the right. Swim to the left towards the biggest rapids. If you go right you will find the “Bad Place” and it will hurt.” So inevitably our raft got destroyed in the waves and found
myself sucked 10 feet under water and not knowing which was up until I shot to the surface and drifting right towards the “Bad Place”. Swimming as hard as I could I also violated the other rule: Keep your feet up and proceeded to find the rocks with my flailing legs. My guide was right. The Bad Place does hurt and I have the cut up legs to prove it but other than a few bumps and bruises, no harm done.
After rafting my body completely went mental and was flat on my back for some time. I made it to Kampala and went around with some awesome people from Wisconsin/Minnesota from Engineers W/O Borders while trying to conceal my ailing health. I didn’t eat anything for about 30 hours and nothing I was putting in my body staying in my body. I’ll spare you the gory details, but thank god for cheap anti-biotics. Apparently my iron stomach which defied the odds for over 2 months last summer has finally found its match.
Anyway, enough rambling. From here I head to Masaka to meet up with two other people that I met last summer and will spend the
next while (health permitting) in W. Uganda before heading to Rwanda.
Ugandan-English word of the day:
Country road: Dirt foot path and/or dry riverbed no more than 2 feet wide and crisscrossed by divots and rocks.
Bad Place: A bad mofo place that hurts.
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