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Published: February 7th 2007
We left Jinja very early on Monday morning, my alarm went off at 4 am and we were on the road by 5, blech. I slept pretty fitfully on the bus and cursed African roads (this will come back to haunt me...foreshadow) all the way to the Ugandan/Kenyan border.
When I picture border crossing I like to imagine a clean, orderly customs arrangement like in North America. This, of course, wasn't the case - just like the rest of Africa everything was hustle and bustle. We handed our passports over to Yussef (one of our staff members and a Kenyan) pretty reluctantly as he looked as if he was heading into a mob. Men were carting around fruit, women were crossing on foot with babies and children in tow and the dirt roads were pot-holed and puddled. It was a big, muddy and colourful area.
Everybody wanted to exchange money given that we won't have bank access until reaching Nairobi again in late February and were told that we could do so at the border. Again, my pictured scenario of a desk, attendant and sheet of glass couldn't have been further off. Men were racing through the crowd carrying stacks of assorted currencies, dressed in bright yellow (for Kenya) or purple (for Uganda) robes. Yussef arranged a decent exchange rate with one guy for both American dollars and Ugandan shillings and he boarded our bus, probably making his day.
Once our passports were stamped we had to get out and hand in our departure forms by person. I got really paranoid at one point and thought that my passport had been pick-pocketed, nothing sends your heart racing quite like the prospect of a stolen or lost passport. I'd put it in my money belt, but what a scary moment. At this point everybody had to go to the washroom really badly and we all paid 10 shillings to use a drop toilet - the proverbial developing-country experience.
The trip was going surprisingly smoothly and we were all excited about the prospect of arriving to our scheduled ferry an hour early and getting to relax a bit. A bit too much optimism must have been flowing, however, as we encountered some very muddy rural roads. Now - the back roads in my home town are definitely not ideal by North American standards, but I have NEVER seen conditions like this. Mud ruts were knee-high and cars, mutatus (van-taxis) and trucks were all fish-tailing everywhere across the road. Our trucks, seating 19 people each and holding literally tons of gear, met their match with these mud pits.
I don't even know how to describe the events that followed, it was so utterly ridiculous and exciting. Basically, 19 of us were sitting on the first bus when it headed a little bit off the main road to get around a delivery truck whose tires were buried. Suddenly, the bus tilted pretty dangerously and then came to a halt in a vat of brown, sticky, slimy road mud - (Mom, don't have a heart attack, the trucks are actually really safe and are very bottom-heavy. I might be exaggerating about the tipping a bit, but I felt a definite adrenaline surge. It was scary but fantastic at the same time). Bongo, Solomain (our drivers) and Phil got out and starting trying to dig and put traction slides under the tires to get us out. They were soon joined by people of the surrounding community, mostly men, but women and children looked on. After 5 failed attempts all of the students were off-loaded and were instructed to stand at the side of the road and wait. The other bus was still on the dry land, waiting to see what would happen.
Thankfully our staff had the foresight to put all of our bags and camping gear on separate buses in case of a situation like this and we were pretty thankful that our backpacks were in the one on dry land. We snapped pictures of the stuck bus and cheered on the revving engine and spinning tires, but to no avail. Suddenly, the second bus turned on and came barging through the mud at the truck that we'd been trying to avoid in the first place. They rammed it a bit further into the ditch and came to a halt as well. Everybody was swearing at this point because we thought they were both out of commission. As it turns out, they were trying to get close enough to tow the truck out and did so successfully. I'll never forget the crowd that had formed and the victory cheers as the truck was brought back onto dry land.
This is probably pretty confusing, what with all the truck and bus references, but it all wrapped up to our group having to abandon the bus I'd been on. There were 40 people crammed into the bus that had victoriously pulled out the truck and ridden through the mud pits. We had to keep getting on and off the bus as we encountered progressively worse roads. It was funny as we'd be walking in single file down the side of the road, when suddenly we'd hear the revving engine and watch the bus careen and fishtail all over and everybody would break into a run to get out of the way. We were never in very serious danger, but the bus kind of looked like a wild animal charging towards us. The bus was completely muddy, both in and out and we were covered in bright brown soil. As we bumped and tilted over potholes we sang and laughed. It was a great bonding experience and I don't think I'm doing the situation any justice by trying to write it down!
We finally arrived at our ferry 3 hours late (at approximately 6 pm). As we drove by the slum areas bordering the lake, kids began chasing us. When we finally stepped onto the dock there were probably 60 of them, all screaming "mzungu!" (white, tourist) and smiling. They love it when we take pictures and then show it to them off our cameras. One little kid kept pressing the zoom button and absolutely screamed with delight every time it would focus a bit more. I can't even express how much I love the kids here, I know I say it every time but they never fail to make my day.
The ferry ride to Mbita was gorgeous. I didn't realize that Lake Victoria's border is so hilly (again, a word that does the landscape absolutely zero justice). The sky is impressive, there are layers of clouds both above and along the hill/mountain tops. This, combined with the sun setting and the lapping water, was a relaxing way to end a hectic (and LONG) day. We all sat on the boat deck in silence, equipped with PFD's, and watching the horizon near.
Today marks day 3 of Mbita living. What a remarkable place, they describe it as being Kenya's forgotten point. With a population of well over 150 000 people, an AIDS prevalence of 38% and bordering a very polluted Lake Victoria it's easy to see how it's earned the nickname. We're staying at an ICIPE satellite campus that's 24.5 ha big with a school and kindergarten, a clinic and many labs. The amenities here are amazing, good food (Talapia is my new favourite fish, I'm officially not eating beef or chicken anymore) wonderful rooms and a view to die for. Hippos walk the shoreline at night and laze in the water during the day, they're so big!
We've been going to town every day in the name of our current research module "Health and Nutrition". My group spoke with clinic nurses and directors about AIDS prevention, malarial treatment and community health. I could go on for hours about this huge challenge, but I'd rather talk about my experience at the Tom Mboya Secondary School.
We arrived at the school after hours to meet with their Health Club. There are approximately 500 students both boarding and from the surrounding community, 200 of which stayed around to talk with us. We were split into 4 groups of 7 people and faced a class room of highschool-aged boys panel-style. It was so intimidating at first, I hadn't realized it was an all-boys school (as it turns out, most if not all secondary schools are segregated) and sitting in front of the classroom felt so formal. The ice was broken by 16-year-old Vince, the president of the club. He explained that their role was to learn, talk and critically analyse pressing health issues in Canada and relay the information to their peers.
Immediately the conversation was focused onto HIV/AIDS. It was such a frank discussion, there was no beating around the bush concerning sexual behaviours, condom use, religion, etc. It really hit me at that point how similar we really are, they had all the same questions and concerns that you'd find in any Canadian high school. Some of the more memorable questions (both funny and serious) included:
"If the AIDS prevalence is so low in Canada, does that mean that anything is being done to help us in developing countries, or is it even a main concern" - I didn't know what to say to this question. Of course there's AIDS awareness and research in Canada, but when as North Americans we spend 15 times the amount of money required to treat all HIV positive Africans on obesity-related healthcare, are we really addressing priorities and finding solutions?
"If a condom is only 99% effective and I have sex with my girlfriend 1000 times, what does that mean?" - Good lord. There was a good laugh after Dave answered "You'll be pretty tired".
"What will the government in Canada do if an unmarried couple have a child?" - I'd never even considered the legality of this situation in Kenya.
Anyways, it was funny and open and (slightly) uncomfortable at times, but I was impressed at the curiousity and knowledge that these kids had. Equally impressive was their passion towards finding a cure for AIDS, living healthy and happy lifestyles and going to University.
The situation in Kenya concerning social stigmas, drug and treatment availability and overall knowledge concerning "the virus" (as everybody here refers to it as) is looking up, but again, there are just so many complexities and obstacles to overcome.
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Dad
non-member comment
Sounds very exciting
Your road trip sounds like a few back woods timber cruises and vehicle fire attacks that I used to go on. Lots of mud and memories. The Passport scare is a good one, you are likely far more aware now. Sending your updates to the appropriate people. Continue to enjoy.