Spectacular Sipi

My last weekend of 2007 ended up being a great way to ring out the old even though I was a bit down after my parents’ departure. It’s always so great to have visitors (or alternatively visit home), but one always inevitably is left with a lingering homesickness that somehow wasn’t there before—as if you had trained yourself not to remember all the people you love and miss on a daily basis because otherwise it would be too hard to enjoy your new surroundings, friends, and adventures. Still, especially as this time of year, I think of all my fantastic family and friends and how much I miss them. So, in an attempt at total diversion, I committed to a trip with a couple friends to go out to the southeastern part of the country to visit Sipi Falls, an attraction I’ve been wanting to visit—and, well, I’m running out of time in Uganda!

After a day trying to run errands in Kampala (I accomplished 2 out of 6 errands and considered that successful for here), we woke up a 5:45 on Friday morning to boda down to the bus park and catch our “4 hour” ride to Mbale. Magically, after much harassment from bus hawkers per usual, we boarded our Gateway bus at 7 and it drove out of the bus park at 7:15, half empty—unheard of!!! I was literally in shock, and didn’t want to say anything for fear of jinxing us. We stopped to pick up passengers along the road, and the bus did indeed fill up—a much more efficient way to handle this! I slept a good part of the way, even over what apparently was stretches of incredibly bumpy gravel roadwork—I felt it today, and boy, I must be a good sleeper. The one really attention-grabbing event was when our bus engine caught on fire and started to smoke. We had to unload from the bus (although the slowness with which we did this may attest to how jaded we’ve become).

Despite this incident, we arrived at Mbale around noon, then caught an always interesting matatu out to Sipi which is about 60 km outside of Mbale. Our matatu was more like a 7-person family minivan that at one point had 18 people crammed in—13 adults, 5 children. But it could always be worse—and myself and two others were relatively roomy in the back three seats. We arrived at our final destination, The Crow’s Nest, a campsite and low budget lodging around 2pm and selected our 2 rooms (very cozy—think NYC apartments!) rooms with a small double bed, and then had some lunch.

Sipi Falls consists of 3-4 falls depending on how you identify them, with the bottom fall ending in a spectacular 100m drop. That afternoon we went for a hike up to the top of the 3rd falls where there was a swimming hole. It was quite a feat to find this place on our own as the area is still undeveloped for the most part tourism-wise, although it’s gaining popularity and more lodges are being built. There are also so many local children around hassling to guide any muzungu that comes by, and it’s hard to turn their eager faces away. There are also the little pudgy toddlers (I really think they learn to walk here by 6 months of age!) who stumbled towards us hands waving, shouting hello—so cute! Or not so cute: hands extended asking for sweets or shouting, “You give me money!” After one of the four of us braved the refreshing dip in the stream, we hiked back to the campsite for some Uganda veggie stirfry and an early bedtime.

We were up bright and early the next morning because two of us, Ariella and I, had signed up for abseiling (Mom, stop reading here if you can’t handle it!)—repelling down the rock (and then the negative abyss) beside the 100m bottom waterfall! Yikes, were we scared. The other two were led down to the bottom of the fall so that they could view our descent and take some pics for us of course. Our guides led us across the stream at the top of the falls and then began to rig up the equipment that they had stored in a tattered purple Northface backpack. That’s about when I started to panic, as one of the guides pointed to our friends below, and Ari stuck her camera over the edge and took a shot of our impending doom. In my typical fashion, I agreed to go first and then made jokes (that apparently were not thought funny but taken seriously—okay, maybe they WERE serious) about them giving me the best harness, tying the best knot they ever had—find, so I’m not that funny when I’m scared! One of the guides went down first to demonstrate and “test the ropes” I guess.

Then came the real terror. I had to turn around and step to the edge where there were two pipes rigged us as “steps.” I was to stand on the first and then step backwards and down—over a cliff mind you, at the height of a football field—onto this pipe and then lean back. Um, yeah, that’s natural! In any case, my legs began to shake uncontrollably which made said stepping even more of a challenge. I did it though, and once I leaned back, I just had to trust that the rope and pulley system would hold me—the guides were well trained by an Australian and have done this hundreds of times over the past few years.

There were about 30 meters to descend with my feet pressing against the rock wall, and then it sloped away, and I was left basically dangling in mid-air about 70 meters up. I was being held and lowered slowly by a white rope controlled at the top, and a red safety rope that I controlled and used to lower myself meter by meter by reaching behind me and easing it up and through the pulley system on my harness. At one point I began to turn and my ropes twisted, and I had to choose to freak out or enjoy the sweeping view out of the plains of Karamoja and the raging waterfall just 10 meters to my right (well, left when I was twisted!). About half way down my arms started to get tired, but there was little choice obviously but to keep going. I waved to the others below who were dutifully snapping lots of shots.

As I neared the bottom of the waterfall, the splash and spray misted over me. I finally let out a full breath as my feet strained for the rocks from my harness, and the guide helped me unattach. With legs still shaking, I climbed up the rocks a bit to join the others and watch Ari take on the cliff. She succeeded too of course, and we were both varying levels of shaken and excited for a bit afterwards.

Next, after fending off my enemies, the evil biting red army ants, we set off up the rocky grassy slopes with our abseiling guide who would also be showing us all of the falls and fending off the local “guides” that we had encountered the day before. We viewed the bottom waterfall from near some ancient caves where ancestors (from Ethiopia) used to live, but now just house birds. We climbed up to the second and third falls as we had the day before, but from a different route and encountered the women scrubbing clothes, children bathing, cows lapping at the water, as had been at the top of the largest fall. We encounted a large youth church group from Mbale at the swimming hole, but after they had left I went for a very brisk (freezing!) swim to cool off.

After another stretch of hiking through lush green banana fields, past small mud and thatch huts, and coffee trees (we stopped to watch a local farmer separating the coffee beans from their husks and even took a few spin on the machine), Moses our guides (how biblically appropriate!) led us to the final waterfall that looked much more impressive upclose. With satisfyingly aching legs, we climbed down the slopes and back to our campsite. Mind you, our guide walked in flipflops the whole day. The locals appear superhuman with their abilities to scale rocky hills with bare feet and with out a breath out of place while we muzungus slip and slide behind in our fancy sneakers.

That night a couple other friends from Kampala were staying at the Crow’s Nest on their way back from hiking Mount Elgon on the eastern Ugandan border with Kenya. We treated ourselves to steak dinner at the Sipi Falls Resort—a bit more upscale place than our humble abode. The next morning Ari and I were up early to check out and head to the Abayudaya community, a group of 400 or so African Jews that is located in the hills outside of Mbale. A tribe converted to Judaism about 100 years ago, although they are not necessarily fully accepted as Jews, they keep kosher and follow the Old Testament and Talmud, circumcise 8 days after birth (rather than as young adults as is the traditional custom here), and do not practice polygamy. Before Idi Amin came to power there were a few thousand Jews, but thanks to a mini inquisition, they now number about 800.

After a delightful breakfast of American style banana pancakes and a quick sprint/hike to the breathtaking hilltop view above The Crow’s Nest, we set off with another muzungu, a Brit, in a matatu that had been called to get us. We drove up and down the local road looking for other passangers to fill our minivan as on Friday, but there were no takers. So finally, we circled back to The Crow’s Nest to pick up a couple more backpackers and then set off down the road where we stopped to pick up plenty of men and women, bearing bags, large green stems of bananas, and babies in their arms. Nearly two hours later we reached Mbale and checked on the buses back to Kampala, and the two of us clambered onto a boda that would take us the 15km to the closest of the four Abayudaya villages (though he charged us muzungu price for sure!).

We arrived and had a chance to meet some of the very welcoming members of the community and view the synagogue and high school, as well as talk to some other visitors, and plenty of people that knew friends of Ari’s who had visited or volunteered there. It was interesting to meet such a unique group of people and be in the presence of such an uncommon community in Uganda. After an hour’s visit we called our boda-man and headed back to town.

Hassling was in full force at the Mbale bus park, but we were promised by the Gateway manager that a big yellow bus would leave momentarily. Shockingly, we climbed on the bus at 12:43 and the bus pulled out of the lots at 12:45. We held our breath and exchanged looks, and dared not speak a word of good fortune. Just under four hours later we arrived back in Kampala, dirty, tired, but content with a very fun, packed weekend.But there’s more to come: New Year’s tomorrow, of course, and then more travelling to come! Happy New Year’s—may it be a very happy, healthy, and fun year for all :)

Jinja Rafting and Kampala Christmas

We called Joseph, our new-found personal taxi driver, and he came to pick us up and drive us to Jinja and our lodging there, the Nile Porch, which is located next to the Nile River Explorers rafting center. The Nile Porch is perched on the steep banks of the Nile and has a sweeping view out over small rapids with Bujagali Falls in the distance and beautiful green hills. I was a little worried about what my dad would think of the charmingly rustic thatch roof tents with open bathrooms off to the side, but I think the view won him over.

We took in a striking sunset of a bright pink-orange sun sinking in a clear sky behind darkening hills, and then headed to the lodge’s restaurant, the Black Lantern for dinner. We had incredibly good food—tilapia for my parents and the best pork ribs for me. And we rolled ourselves off to bed again. However, I set my alarm to wake up by 8 to check on whether or not there would be room for my parents and myself on a half day rafting trip. There was in fact, and so we quickly pulled ourselves together and headed over to NRE to board the open-air truck that bounced along the dirt road to the downtown site where we picked up the rafts and our lifejackets and helmets after some breakfast and a briefing.

My mom and I decided to do the half-day rafting while my dad opted to float in the supply boat for a more relaxing experience. My mom and I were in a boat with a very nice Dutch family from Botswana, a father and brother who were visiting the daughter who was about my age who had been in northern Uganda for a few months researching chimps. The five of us, plus our rafting guide, Alex, took off down the Nile from our launch point, crossing over some grade 1 and 2 level rapids while practicing drills of what to do if we flipped the raft in a large rapid—how to approach a rapid and try to hang on to the raft, how to “swim” the rapid safely, and how to get back in the raft. The water was warm enough that it was actually quite nice getting dunked in, aside from the occasional water up the nose, but getting pulled back into the boat by the shoulders of our lifejackets made one feel less than graceful!

My dad floated along quite happily and watched as we got dunked into the water during our drills and then we waved goodbye to him as he was dropped off at our campsite as we approached our first big rapid, a grad 5, Bujagali Falls. We made it down the first part of the falls, and then on the churning water at the second drop we flipped. Everyone managed to hold on, though I gave my mother quite a fright as I made the impulse decision to stay under the air pocket created by the boat. My mom held on though—I was quite impressed! A little shaken, we were all fine and climbed back in, ahem, were dragged back in to the raft. Next we had some fun grad 3 rapids and then a grade 4 and 3 which were no problem.

We got in for a swim at the calmer stretches. It was past midday as we neared our final big rapid—the Silverback, named for the giant gorilla. Alex prepped us on the four waves that make up the Silverback and I tried to steady my nerves. I don’t really recall four distinct rapids, mainly just a moment when I looked up from my crouched position in the raft to see a wall of water coming towards us. But we survived intact in the boat. Success! Then it was time for a some pineapple for a light lunch on the river as we floated along before taking another plunge into the cool waters and floating along in the strong current and small rapids. We

The half-dayers finished up around 1pm and we made our way to the shore and took another bumpy truck ride back to the campsite with refreshments in hand. Reunited with my dad, and some friends from Kampala who had come to Jinja to go rafting the following day, we had some lunch and spent the afternoon relaxing by the pool that had equally spectacular views as our tent. That night we dined at Black Lantern again, and then went over to NRE bar where they were showing the video of our rafting day. Of course there was the token shot of me stuffing my face with pineapple—just me—that was bound to happen! Then I enjoyed some drinks at the bar with my friends who were going rafting the next day and agreed to hike down to the Bujagali Falls to take pictures of them as they passed by.

So after a leisurely breakfast, my parents and I hiked down to the nearby Falls, and took in the crashing water as we waited for their arrival. Three red rafts approached and we watched as they tackled the Falls, as my mom and I had (not so successfully) done the day before! After some more lounging on the veranda at the Nile Porch, Joseph arrived to take us back to Kampala. My parents moved back into the Bourgenviller, and that afternoon my mother and I undertook the unappealing task of organizing my stuff and giving her much of it to take home so that I’d have a lighter load for my coming travels. An Italian Christmas Eve dinner ended another long day (though not before I took my mother to Bubbles for a drink!) and then I was up the next morning to meet up with my parents to go to a restaurant for Christmas brunch with my cousin’s family and friends. It was delicious and fun and then my parents and I returned to the hotel for a relaxing, tropic Christmas afternoon lounging by the pool. We had a nice Turkish dinner (opted out of the traditional Jewish Chinese meal) and then headed to a fancy hotel for some dessert—albeit with some serious special hire issues, which only confirmed our love for Joseph the driver!

The next day my mom and I took more supplies to Meeting Point and then headed over to the Craft Market in town for some serious shopping. When we had 6000 Ush left to our name we had to call it quits and beg a taxi to take us back to the hotel for only that. A few more errands to run (I treated by mom to a police shack viewing when we went to report my stolen cell phone, etc.) and it was time for our last dinner (thank goodness, I hadn’t really felt hunger pangs in days!) and time to say goodbye, which I’m definitely no good at. All in all it was a wonderful trip, they’re wonderful parents, and despite a few “teenage” moments on my part, we had a phenomenal time.

A Magical Place

After a quick unpack/repacking stint at my house on Sunday night, my parents and I got a special hire to the airport (from the guy who would become essentially our personal taxi for the rest of their stay in Uganda) very early on Monday as we had been urged to get to the check-in desk by 10am at the latest even though the flight was not until after 12, and traffic can be just horrendous in Kampala so we wanted to leave ourselves lots of time. Nevermind that when we arrive at the airport the check-in desk was not even open and the attendents had not arrived! But we did finally check in and board on time, and our flight was practically empty and in fact we were the only people to get off the plane at the dinky little Mwanza airport, as the plane continued on to Kilimanjaro. Upon our arrival I could see my mom’s fear growing: what if Diya Tours and Travel did not exists and there was in fact no Peter Messo to meet us at the airport.

Fortunately, he did exist and he was waiting for us as we exited the arrivals, after we purchased our visas with just a bit of difficulty (note: if you come to this neck of the world, don’t bring any bills minted before 2000—they won’t accept them, at least without a fight). Peter introduced himself and drove us to our hotel for the night with a brief stop at the Tanzania Immigration office in town. I was examining my visa during the car ride and saw that it seemed to have an expiration date of 31/12/07—not good considering my plans to pass back through Tanzania in the middle of January and the visa was supposed to be double entry. The officer just changed the “07” to “08” with his pen—um, thanks, I think I could have done that myself! So Peter urged him to sign his initials and he ended up restamping the visa and issuing it through 31/12/08—lovely! Crisis averted. We spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out at the open-air restaurant and pool of Hotel Tilapia which was very nicely perched right on the rocky shore of Lake Victoria.

Early the next morning, we departed for the Serengeti which was about a two hour drive. After stopping to pay park fees we entered the Serengeti and drove along spotting some animals herds and in my excitement I took far too many pictures of far off animals as soon we had some walking right by our vehicle! My mom and I had our hearts set on seeing giraffes, so what a relief when one literally strolled right in front of our 4x4. Peter then drove us around the bush to where there were several grazing from the tree—an amazing sight! After spotting some elephants and hippos, we stopped for our picnic lunch at a small clearing with tables, and listened to hippos snort nearby as Peter informed us that two male lions had been spotted there earlier that morning so he was just keeping an eye out! We drove for about eight hours in total that day, but it just flew by—passing herds of wildebeest (that were in the midst of returning from their annual migration to Kenya—it was a magnificent sight to see hundreds running gracefully), giraffes, baboons, and even a lioness basking in the sun. We arrived at our luxury lodge, Serena Serengeti, in time for a late afternoon dip in the pool, and then sat on the deck of my room (I got the better view than my parents out over the park above the treetops) and watched the sun set. After a three course meal buffet and eating way too much as was to be a pattern for the whole trip and watching some drumming performance, we crashed for the night.

The following morning we awoke early (the only downside to the safari vacation) and were on the way through the Serengeti towards the Ngorogoro Crater before 9am. Not five minutes after leaving the lodge, we came across a herd of a dozen elephants a few meters from the road with several baby elephants among the crowd—quite a way to start the day. We exited the Serengeti and entered the Ngorogoro conservation area by midday and drove up and up to reach the top of the crater. The view upon reaching the top is simply spectacular with a vast green area laid out below runged by steep sides and some small rolling hills and a large crater lake in the bottom. We drove down the steep descent taking in the remarkable views during the 20-minute journey down to the lake, which had pink flamingos gathered at one edge and scattered on the shallow lake. They would gleam bright pink when hit with sunlight, and although we could not drive close as my mother had when she was my age, it was still a beautiful sight. After a picnic lunch, another afternoon passed in a flash with a spotting of buffalo, lions (including a male and female eating their kill), three cheetahs, elephants, a (from a distance) 2 black rhinos (there are only 10 in the park). After an enchanting but tiring day (not that we did anything really!), Peter drove us up and out of the crater (you must be out by 6pm or you’re stuck for the night!) and to our luxury lodge #2, Serena Ngorogoro. After an impressive acrobatic show and another massive three course dinner, we called it a night.

The next day we depart early again to make the long drive back to the Serengeti before our Ngorogoro park fee expired then journeyed back across the Serengeti for several hours. More giraffes, elephants, and hippos were spotted—a huge pool of hundreds of them actually! Especially breathtaking was about a dozen lions and pups gathered on a rocky kopje rising out of the flat planes. I spent some time cooing at the babies and waving at them! Our last nights stay was a Mbalegeti Lodge, a beautiful place with the only downside being that is was very spread out over the top of a huge hill. We took in the spectacular views out of the bush (although I could feel myself getting spoiled and no nearly as appreciative as was necessary!) and then had the best three-course meal we’d had yet! Early the next day we made the final leg of the journey out the western corridor of the Serengeti and out of the park! Passing tiny thatch hut villages along the smooth paved roads made Tanzania seem like a organizational dream compared to my residence! We arrived back at Hotel Tilapia, wished Peter goodbye and great thanks, and I relaxed the afternoon away at the pool. Tough life.

We drove to the Mwanza airport this morning and had an easy hour-long flight back to Entebbe. We finally managed to reunited with our missing luggage 10 days late at the KLM office in town. Another unpack/repack stint, and we’re on our way to Jinja for two nights (and perhaps some whitewater rafting!) before we return to Kampala for Christmas Day and to wrap up my parents’ visit!

Africa Weary and Some Much Needed R&R

My parents arrived (minus one bag, more on that later) and checked into their lovely boutique hotel, The Bourgenviller, a lovely oasis in this dusty city as they soon came to appreciate even more. On Tuesday and Wednesday we visited Meeting Point so that they could see the murals in person and meet the people I worked with and some of the children who were still hanging around the school even though classes had officially ended. My parents also met with the director, Noelina, and the teachers. And though my attempt to coerce them into eating G-nut stew was a failure, I did have them try my favorite fried cassava, and even agree to take a matatu into the center of town.

And here’s where the problems began. Not with the matatu—they were very good sports about that actually! More so it was the trials that were to consume our afternoon. First, we made an attempt to claim the lost luggage at the KLM office. Thus began a very long, tedious, and infuriating week-and-a-half long battle to reclaim the bag, as we literally crossed paths with it several times. But on Wednesday we were unsuccessful. Then we had some customer service issues at our otherwise fine Nando’s (pretty good South African fast food) lunch, followed by a two-hour battle with one travel agency to purchase our airplane tickets to Tanzania as there was only one airline, Precision Air that flies Entebbe to Mwanza, the little used western entrance to the Serengeti. After quite a commotion over payment—everything here must be paid in cash, credit cards are simply irrelevant at times, or carry a huge surcharge—we finally purchased our tickets, but boy, were we Africa Weary by that point.

So what else to do but head for the muzungu’s respite from the red dust storm that is Kampala—Garden City, yes, a mall, sad I know. One massage (Dad) and two mani-pedis later (my Mom’s first pedi ever!) and we were in better spirits, and met up with my housemate for a good dinner, looking forward for our planned escape from the city on Friday.

Mhingo Lodge proved to be the perfect respite after a couple days in Kampala where my parents began to understand the truth behind some of my earlier blog entries. The crazy roads, lack of customer service, and general disorganization of the city didn’t take long to bring them down a bit. So when we arrived at Mhingo Lodge on Friday afternoon and were treated to bright yellow passionfruit juice and cold towels, we finally breathed a sigh of relief that we were away from Kampala. In addition to going on some game drives on Saturday and a nature game walk on Sunday, we relaxed, hung out on our lovely porch and by the infinity pool, and generally ate far too much (every meal was a 3-course event!). Here are some of the highlights:

A Room with a View

We had a spectacular room: Lake Kacheera, which overlooked the lake of that name in the distance beyond a setting of Africa brush and green hills beyond and as far as the eyes could see, turning a gray blue in the distance. Our tent had three beds with nets, a marvelously huge bathroom with rough twig detail, a big open shower and toilet that had the same stunning view out over the brush, lake and hills. The best part though was the veranda with steps leading down the large boulder on which out tent perched. During the day and night, the tent flaps rolled up to reveal mosquito netting that let in the cool breezes and our veranda was the best viewing platform for thousands of bright stars and shooting stars.

Full Bellies
We ate so much, some would argue too much—that someone would not be me though ;) The food at the lodge was fabulous, which is quite impressive considering that the lodge is in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by bush for many kilometers. They have carloads of groceries delivered from Kampala. We had a delicious tilapia (white fish) dinner one night, pork chop another night, delicious chilled avocado soup for a starter for lunch one day, dense chocolate mouse for one dessert. Every meal was three courses and breakfast was fruit, cereal, eggs and bacon made to order. In other words you could have rolled me down the kopje (rocky hill) and out of the national park by the end of the weekend!

Warthogs, Impalas, Topis (but where are the Elands?)
There may not have been the animals of the “Big Five” (Elephants, Rhinos, Lions, Hippos, Buffalo), but there were plenty of cute animals running all over Lake Mburo National Park (the only park in Uganda to contain an entire lake). We saw lots of zebras which I love, impalas which are awfully cute and graceful, warthogs which are bizarrely ugly-cute, especially when they go running away with they’re tails straight up in the air, and crested cranes--the official bird of Uganda that can be found on the national flag. In an attempt to see the illusive eland, apparently a very shy animal, we drove the Eland Track--no elands. Nor were there leopards on the Leopard Track. Ah well, this didn't stop us from plotting to talk loudly at lunch about how we saw a leopard attack an eland!

Aside from several game drives we also went on an early morning game walk with an armed park guide (very early—the Plattners awoke at 5:45am)! The highlights of the walk were viewing nocturnal bush pigs, spotting a grazing hippo (though we couldn’t get too close for fear of charging), and “waking up” a family of warthogs. This last one was quite spectacular in that we were walking along in the quiet early morning light when out of nowhere came an explosion of grunting warthogs that nearly scared us all to death. Apparently when they smell humans they get afraid and run away—nevermind that we were more scared of them!

Ants in My Pants
Possibly one of the more terrifying and uncomfortable moments in my life (yes, I’ve had it good) was last night when my dad and I were walking to the main lodge from our tent to meet my mom who had gone up earlier. All of a sudden I started to feel pricks on my leg. Little sharp piercing stings. I think something in biting me I said briskly. Just then one of the lodge managers appeared, apologizing for the lack of electricity in our tent. Are you okay she asked. I’m being bitten I think I replied. Oh you must have walked over some army ants she remarked sympathetically, just a bush experience. Go to the bathroom and take off your pants and get them off. I panicked! I took of running like a madwoman, dashed up the steps to the lodge, flew through the dining room and down to the bar area where my mom was reclining on a couch, and flew by her asking abruptly for the bathroom location. I leapt into the bathroom, and threw off my flipflops and jeans. Sure enough, about a dozen large dark ants were scurrying all over the jeans and my leg, one biting my calf, drawing blood. Gross. I drowned those suckers and my mom came in to help. On the walk back to the tent we encountered another mass of ants and got a few more up the pant legs. After that, I curled up in my bed in fright, an utter coward. Top ten ways I do not want to go: getting eaten by army ants.

Equatorial Adventures
We had stopped on the way down to pose for cheesy pictures at the site of the Ugandan equator—a very simple structure adorns either side of the road. But we did not participate in the water drain spectacle and so on the way back we coughed up the 10,000 shillings so that the three of us could view the counter-clockwise swirl of the drain on the north side of the equator, then walk a few fee south of the equator to see the water drain clockwise. At the exact spot of the equator, the water went straight down the drain, sucking the demo flower with it. Not only that, but we learned that you are on average 3-1/2% lighter at the equator than elsewhere on Earth. Not sure how much truth there is to this belief, but I was tempted to stick around! We had a coffee and beer break, took a couple more photos and then clambored back in the car to drive the remaining hour or so to Kampala.

A Little Culture
After passing the Equator, we made one more stop: a drum shop on the side of the road about 30 km from Kampala. Michael told me that this would be a good place to get a fair price on handmade drums because it cuts out the middleman. As soon as I entered, over half a dozen young men swarmed myself and my mother holding drums up to me, reaching for others, asking my preference. Despite the overwhelmingness, I settled on two beautiful wooden drums, one taller one smaller, with a graceful curved base. When I insisted on bargaining the price down from 45000 Ush to 37000 rather than 40000 (it’s about RESPECT) they didn’t have any small change and through in a lovely little drum chocolate brown fur. Anyways, I’m very pleased and sending them back with the obliging parents for my future grownup apartment (whenever in my life that comes to pass)!

Then, since we had a driver and since we were cutting back into town from the west during rush hour (ie anytime on Sunday from 2-10pm) we stopped off at the Kasubi tombs, arguably one of the only tourist attractions in Kampala. We actually had a very informative guide who claimed one of the former Bugunda kings as a great grandfather. He lead us into the tombs, a large thatch hut—in fact, the largest thatch hut in the world, and a world UNESCO Heritage Site—and gave us a 30 minute history and tour of the one room hut. My dad got a little cultural info and was a happy camper despite previous doubts.

Michael drove us (and managed to park the enormous vehicle in Old Kampala—no easy feat!) to my dinner pick, my favorite restaurant in Kampala, Tuhende for a delicious cheap dinner. Even Michael was impressed, saying he would tell other clients about this place. Then it was back to Bugolobi to unload, unpack, repack and prepare from our departure to Tanzania tomorrow morning! Serengeti and Ngorogoro, here we come! Now let’s just hope our tour operator exists—fingers crossed…

Done and DONE.

Well, not really. I mean, when can a recovering perfectionist (although very much recovering!) ever be truly done with a project. But as far as I am concerned, it is done. Aside from a few things to hang on the wall—the murals are DONE! My parents arrive tonight (In just a couple of hours--I can't believe it!), and I’m going to take them to see the school and murals tomorrow as what will constitute my official “last day.” Then I get to show my parents around town (eek, the true test) for a few days before we’re off on safari! :)

The girls' room at the foster house and some of the girls!

Ya Win Some, Ya Lose Some: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, Part 3

Or in the case of my Sunday, you do pretty well in a race, but you get a bunch more stuff stolen. It’s really getting a bit old actually. There’s not really too much I have left to take—although I dare not say that—and of course I still have my health. I had a really nice weekend going out with some friends on Friday night, then going to a film festival on International Human Rights Day (tomorrow, December 10th) that my friend helped organize, and then going to a dinner party.

This morning I woke up bright and early at 6 am to try and meet up with some other friends who were taking a special hire cab to the starting line of the MTN Marathon/Half-Marathon/10K. Cell phone service has been particularly bad here as of late, with the various networks failing, texts not being delivered or delivered days later or 10 times in a row. So instead I hopped on a boda and met up with a friend who I’ve been training with because we had plans to run the race together. I had brought my backpack containing a change of clothes, glasses, etc. assuming they’d have bag check like they have at all the races in the States. Not so I learned, and here begins one of those “why didn’t I just” moments of why didn’t I leave my bag at home. But there I was with the race starting and still caring my backpack, and you better believe I was not running 21K with that on my back. Due to earlier barricades, after the gun went off just past 7:20am, we dashed the 50m off the course to put my bag in his car that was in a lot with one gate and an armed guard. We ran the race, which was actually quite grueling with lots of uphills and what never seems like as many downhills.

So the Bad: Let me tell you this was no New York Marathon. First of all there were only 300 or so marathon runners and about the same number of half-marathoners. Then, the course was not exactly defined in many parts, with us dodge between crazed matatus and bodas at many intersections and along the roads at the marathon marshals tried to create a organized course in the mayhem that is Kampala. There was also the open sewers which is used at a truck wash that we got to run by, and the constant muzungu jeers—although there were an equal number of waves and smiles from all the adorable children. Despite the lack of organization, it was definitely unique to be running a big race in such a different environment than my previous ones so I tried to take it all in—except possibly the sewer.

The Good: We did really well. It wasn’t my personal best—I think that happened last year at the Brooklyn Half and probably will never be repeated, which I feel pretty okay with. But each course is different, and this was definitely a tough one I think, and so I was happy with my finish time which was 2:12:05. I came in sprinting at the end, although there was a cruel fake finish line half a kilometer before the actual finish. There was a great moment at the end where I heard some friends cheering for me (who had run the 10K, as most people did) and I sped up to beat this guys just about 10m from the finish. He saw pass him and I think kicked his heels up in time to best me in the end, but it was one of those fun camaraderie things and he congratulated me at the finish for my efforts. I was tired, but I felt good, and it was good to know I could still run a distance after taking some serious time off since the summer. I may not have been that fast—especially against all those Kenyans, etc, but I didn’t walk once during the race and passed people more than they passed me!

The Ugly: Unfortunately, on our return to my friend’s car for warmer clothes, I was about to discover theft #3—UGH. His car was nicely locked, but as I unzipped my backpack to pull out a sweatshirt, my phone’s tiny sim card was lying neatly on top—a clear sign immediately that someone had taken the phone so it couldn’t be tracked. Next, missing from the front pocket was the equivalent of $10 in cash, my beat up cheap sunglasses (glad I never trust myself to invest in nice ones!), and saddest of all—my beat-up old iPod mini that I adore—and they don’t make them anymore! It had been a birthday gift from good friends a few years back, and while it was definitely on its last legs, it’s never fun to lose one’s music supply. What a downer. However, I don’t know if it’s the sheer number of times, or the fact that with each theft I’ve had to learn to let go of my possessions a little bit more and more, but I think I handled this one the best of all by far.

After a few Debbie-downer moments, I assessed that I still had many important things that they had miraculously not stolen, such as the whole backpack for one—which had among others, a bracelet, my eyeglasses, house keys, an ATM card, and another 20,000 Ush ($10) stashed in a different location in the backpack (at least I’m learning!). My friend ran off to get me a new phone from the Shoprite near the finish line for, get this, 49,000 Ush ($25)—can’t get that cheap a phone replacements in the States, trust me I know! I’ve got it up and running, and for anyone who wants to give a call (um, my parents/Rach) the new number is 0775-888-333—a cool number as my friend tried to uplift my spirits. Um, I think I could have passed on that, but I’ll take what I can get.

The rest of the day shaped up better. I managed to recover most of my phone numbers from a little magic link called Facebook. I had some much need lunch at a pub with a couple friends, and now I’ve been lounging at the pool at Kabira Country Club. And then have a Hanukkah/holiday party to go to--yes, I've found other Jews here! And luckily, my parents are coming in just two days which is keeping me in high spirits—and they can bring me things! Mom, Dad, if you’re reading this, how do you feel about an iPod for Hanukkah? Okay, okay, we’ll talk... ;)

Yep, you guessed it: Mural Mayhem--Part 4, the Homestretch :)

I'm feeling a wave of relief because although I still have some painting left to do, one major project is complete, and the other is looking good and finally feels under control. I think everything's going to come out looking really great in the end which is always a relief when you're working in a rather permanent medium like paint on someone else's property!

For full disclosure's sake, I've posted a picture of the paint-flecked face I've talked about so much. Yes, I'll admit I'm looking more than a bit rough, but it's all for a good cause!

We finished the boys room, and have made great strides on the living room of the orphanage, which is a huge weight of our shoulders because half the problem is just coming up with a good idea that we can accomplish in a relatively short period of time with a bunch of kids running around our paint cans. The boys room is a boat and airplane theme (by my brother's childhood room served as inspiration in fact!), and the living room, which is quite a large room, has three different colors on the 6 wall panels: light blue, bright orange, and yellow. You would not believe how much we debated the colors between the three of us. We were SUCH girls. Anyways, we finally agreed and it really looks great. Some pineapple borders went up today and there's ongoing work on Lion King decorations of Simba, etc. with the Akuna Matata theme to go up on Monday. Then we will also tackle some minimal painting in the girls' room because it is full of so many beds that we can only really paint up near the ceiling, but they are envious of the boys' room so we must do something!

But the most exciting accomplishment was the completion--in just two days--of the outside concrete walls at the Learning Center. On Wednesday, the teachers helped us roller and paint the four large concrete walls (no easy task--new found respect for painters!), although some helped more than others for sure. Some of the teachers took a break after a bit of painting and sat there watching us strain and sweat to complete the four humongous walls with just four small cans of paint--a Hanukkah miracle :)

Then on Thursday morning, we took the children from each classroom and had them line up and painted a hand with the color of their choice and had them handprint the middle two panels. Paint everywhere of course! But it was fun and not too disastrous in the end. Then in the afternoon we painted the school emblem and the MPK emblem on either side of the handprints. Now the school has a proper sign that makes you take notice! One of the staff, Joelia, upon seeing the mural remark that she would never forget us because every time she looked at it she would be reminded of us. Very sweet, and it's nice to know that we really will have a lasting impact. So just a day or two more of painting and then my time at MPK is done! Crazy how it flew by.

But I have a lot to look forward to with my parent's imminent arrival! I have this weekend in Kampala to organize myself (and run that half-marathon on Sunday!) and then comes a travel whirlwind for which I'm very excited!