Bunyoni boat trip with a sad past

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Today was a boat trip on Lake Bunyoni, the second deepest lake in Africa. A local guide, Johnson came to our accommodation and walked us down to an open, wooden boat with a motor and another guy doing the driving. It was market day, so many people had arrived by boat to buy food and clothes. Some come from Rwanda to sell clothes and shoes and buy food. We were stared at a lot and even more self conscious, as we were the only people on boats made to wear life jackets.

Johnson, a guy in his 40s that looked older, pointed out the most expensive places to stay on the lake: Birdnest which is owned by a Belgian and costs $200 per night and Bunyoni Safari Resort which was huge and out of keeping with the rest of the land.

There are 29 islands on the lake, only three where people stay overnight. Others are used for farming too. The second largest is owned by a Canadian and tourists can pay a lot to camp overnight there. He’s imported a couple of zebra, impala and waterbuck to give the experience more value.

Our boat driver spotted a pair of Grey Crowned Crane, the national bird of Uganda. You can get life imprisonment or a fine of 200 million Ugandan Shillings if you kill one. I looked this up and this law isn’t enforced, so it is still endangered.

The largest island, Bwama, was formerly a leper sanctuary. We disembarked there and climbed up past the imported Eucalyptus trees. These trees are good for carving canoes from, but terrible for farming, as they suck up all the water. I could see that the surrounding vegetation was dead.

At the top of the hill was a school where we met Alfred, headmaster I think. He told us that a Dr Sharp, a missionary, established the place in 1930, where lepers from Uganda, Kenya, Congo and Rwanda could stay and be treated. Within the first 18 years, out of 2,000 patients, 500 were able to return home ‘restored’. In the 1960’s leprosy was no longer an issue and the place became a school for boys.

Not far from Bwama is Akampene, or Punishment Island. This tiny (215 sq ft) lump of mud and reeds had only two trees and one of those is dead. Unmarried pregnant girls were dumped there by their families, because of the disgrace and their loss of value - daughters were sold as wives for cattle and other valuables. The men that got them pregnant didn’t get any punishment whatsoever. Dr Sharp helped convince locals that this wasn’t a good thing to do and instead brought them to Bwama island to get educated.

Now out of the 250 pupils, 150 are female and they’re learning science, physics, medicine and engineering. Alfred says when he gets speakers in, he ensures they are female. For example, one lady engineer got on the roof with tools to repair it and inspired many of the young girls to become engineers. He acknowledged that it will take a lot of time to change the mindset of people about the role of women, but he is trying. It all went over Johnson’s head.

We were asked to sign a guest book with the strong hint of giving a donation, so we did that. Then we met a withered 73 year old guy who was dirt poor and barely made a living making fishing baskets. After a small demonstration, another hint was given to give him a donation, which we did. Most of our money on this holiday has gone on tips and worthy causes.

We left Alfred and the school to go uphill to the mundane church. Johnson congratulated Glyn for bringing his wife on the trip and commented that I had good hair - that ups my value I presume. He then asked if we had dowries in England and we told him no. This he ignored and asked how many cows did I cost? Glyn explained that we both earn the same wage, I work and we don’t do that. Johnson laughed and kept asking how many cows. After repeating himself a few times, I explained that this was insulting in my country. He ignored that too and carried on laughing.

Now I know it’s a different culture, before anyone gets all hoity-toity with me, but if your culture condones murder, then your culture needs to change. The guy also works with tourists from all over the world, he more than most should know better. Plus he’d just had an equality lecture from Alfred. I couldn’t work out if he wasn’t too bright, too stuck in his ways or just an arsehole. I reckon all of the above. I hung back and stayed out of the conversation, no point getting angry about what you cannot change, just avoid it.

We got back on our boat when another pulled up alongside us, full of locals. One lady had bright pink in her hair and I pointed at mine and I said “I like your hair” and she smiled. Then the whole boatload started giggling. According to Jackson, Glyn and I look like siblings to these people. We’ve never had that before.

The boat then went around Punishment Island and I got to hear Johnson’s take on this. Up to 60 women could be left on there at one time. But don’t worry, some poor fishermen would come and take a few as they couldn’t afford dowries, so they were getting free wives. Johnson explained how they would point with a stick at one they wanted, and he found this absolutely hilarious. He didn’t stop laughing when I asked how many died and didn’t answer that. People don’t learn to swim in Uganda, so the majority either drown trying to swim away or die from hunger and cold. Glyn and I said that we found this horrific, but Johnson continued laughing about the fisherman getting free women with their sticks, and repeating it too. The man is an arsehole.

I can’t imagine the sheer terror and hurt of being dumped by your own family, knowing you most likely will die. Maybe a poor fisherman would rescue you but that potentially could be even worse. I read one account of the last survivor from the island, she was dumped there at age 12 by her own brother. A fisherman who she speaks fondly of did rescue her, but her unborn baby was beaten out of her. It was written in 2017 on the BBC site and can be read here: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-39576510

So at this point, I didn’t want to engage with this guy and kept it to a minimum. I couldn’t stop thinking about those poor young girls and imagined their terror. I know it’s important to learn about these things, but I’d rather not learn from a soulless misogynist.

Luckily there wasn’t long left and we returned to where we’d left. But oh it was a village tour with Idiot Johnson. Luckily it’s a small village and he just pointed to items on the market and told us what they are: trousers, phones, socks. Very helpful. We were also being stared at a lot and though I understand it, I didn’t like it.

Glyn and Johnson went into a shop to buy tea bags and waiting outside a man and a boy talked to me. The boy spoke good English and told me how he likes to study. The man wasn’t so fluent but was trying. But ruddy Johnson came out and told me the man was mad, that may be but he was perfectly nice to me. He also shooed the boy away. I tried to tell him it was nice meeting him, but I don’t think I was believed.

We came back for lunch to our lodge and Glyn still tipped him, he does have three kids, all boys that need educating. And with a father like that, yes they do. Some Slovenian is sponsoring the eldest for half the school fees thankfully.

Charity asked how it was and I tried to explain, trying not to sound like a pompous tourist. She guessed that Johnson laughed about the dead girls and said men here often do. After lunch she asked if we were going hiking. We said yes, and she asked if we wanted Johnson to come with us. Er no, we’ll take our chances, anyone but him!

We walked along the track at the bottom of our accommodation, and decided to take the left hand road up the steep hill. To our right was the lake. It became incredibly steep and the sun was shining. Lots of people said “hello” and passing girls asked if we wanted a guide. When we declined, they laughed quite hard. So many children shouted “hello”, many, many times.

A couple of young kids kept asking where we were going and we told them just up, we were just going for a walk. So they followed us. They asked if we were going to Arcadia Cottages, which are near the top, so I said maybe. From then on, they kept going ahead of us on the track and beckoning. I knew they’d expect a tip at the top and I wasn’t having it. This was the first time Glyn and I had alone and they kept butting into our conversation to tell us to go where we were already going.

I tried going the wrong way, but they still followed, saying we were going into the bush. It wasn’t where I wanted to go and I did ask them to stop following us. They didn’t. It was very hard going for a pee without being followed.

This continued for around half an hour, so I had to say firmly, “please stop following us, we want to be alone and we have no money” which was true for me, although Glyn did. They stared at me, but stopped following thankfully.

We made it close to the top and there was an awesome view across the lake. We could see the islands we’d been past earlier today. We decided to follow the road back, being a mountain road, it was indirect and it took quite a bit longer to get back. We were overtaken by many motorbikes rolling down the mountain at quite a pace to save petrol. More kids said “hello”. The teenagers did not. Some ladies in a field said “give me money” then hooted with laughter. I think we walked about 12 km in total.

So a few days ago I’d bought Uganda Waragi for a few quid that’s a bit like gin. I’ve not tried it yet as I’ve been too exhausted at the end of each day, so tonight was the night. Glyn and I were chilling on our balcony, so I went down to the bar to ask for a coke for Glyn and fruit juice for me as I’m not keen on pop. The juice was to use as a mixer, but there was none. They guy offered to get some made in the kitchen but that wasn’t doable. In the end he had to go to the shop. It’s not far but I felt awful. He came back with a variety of juices, all fruit flavoured pop, so I may as well have had a coke and not sent the poor guy to the shop.

Charity brought me some cake to my room. It was very kind and lovely but there was so much! I don’t know what to do with it all! So I gave a lot to Zedius who loved it and non was wasted.

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