15 - 22 OCTOBER 2011

KAMPALA

 

With another tourist I leave Edirisa for the short walk to the Post Office with my pre-ordered rolex in hand – a chappati rolled around an omelette - for breakfast. We’re both catching the Posta Bus, which is slower because it drops off mail at major post offices on the way, but is decidedly safer than alternative bus companies.  As we near the bus there is much commotion and we comment to each other that it is often hard to determine how serious it is, when we notice a bloke being punched, pushed and chased away, the subject of a bit of early morning mob justice. Talking with the conductor later, he tells me that ‘some people think he was stealing money’ and ‘the mob were taking care of him.

He agreed with me that crowds could be easily misled and I could see how crowds could so easily get out of control in fits of temper here in any African country. It’s a relaxing drive through green, cultivated countryside and I travel over the equator for the third time this trip, to Kampala arriving early afternoon. We drop a lot of passengers at the market and I watch as a msungu who has alighted gets her bags rifled through three times by pickpockets as she stands by the bus! We travel through to the city to finish at the main post office and its an easy walk through the city to check in at New City Annexe Hotel and get one of the two single rooms that have a window.

I take up the cause of retrieving my torch here; I have been trying Yahya’s phone with calls and sms but he is not picking up or replying and I begin to wonder if I have been a little over confident thinking I would get it back? Reception here have never heard of New Hope Hotel, it’s not on maps and talking to the bodaboda guys they know the Jaguar bus station but not the hotel I’m looking for. We set a price to the bus station and I ask my rider if he will ask for me when we get to that part of town. No worries although the ride on the boda boda was a little hair raising through town on wet streets, but a rider there knew the hotel and we easily locate the New Hope. First part accomplished! I enquire about Yahya, who is not in (bad) but the lovely receptionist telephones him for me (good) and he tells them to look for the torch in his bag he has at reception – Its in there and now I have my head torch back. Again unbelievable and I am very happy to have it back because it’s a very handy light for travelling. I did feel bad growling at the Kigali auberge staff and accusing them of keeping it, but Ange assured me that she had telephoned them to apologise on our behalf. Phew..

Walking out of that hotel, I see I am in Old Kampala and opposite the Gaddafi National Mosque with a sign inviting free visits. On entry I discover I have to pay 6000 shillings to hire a scarf and wrap to cover up because I am female, but the tour was free, led by a very earnest young man with a severe eye disorder – he was cross eyed! I gather Islam must have been his only option as he could not have worked otherwise. Idi Amin began building this mosque in 1972, ran out of money and Col Gaddafi funded the completion in 2007 gaining him lots of supporters here. The mosque affords great views over Kampala. I take another boda boda out to check out Backpackers but s it’s now tourist low season because European and American school terms have begun so all the vollies have gone back home, so not many tourists here. I check out their accommodation but the dorm smells so damp and at only a few thousand shillings less than what I am paying now for a private room I decide to stay in town. I round off the afternoon with a quick visit to the Namirembe Anglican Cathedral, again giving me great views over the city.

Next morning I check out Uganda’s National Theatre directly across the road from where I am staying – they have umpteen events on this week which tempts me to stay a few more days. Ush10,000 – A$3.50 for most shows and tonight there is a musical drama, Kibuga about greed and confusion! My church visit is this morning arrive at the Calvary Temple Worship Centre in Kitintale. I am introduced to this pastor and that pastor and then seated right up the front on cushioned chairs.

After a long and fervent session with the evangelists, which included my being introduced to the congregation, I am treated to a lovely lunch by Robert and Peter.  The donation envelopes distributed here included a quotation from the bible “Bring ye the whole tithe in to the storehouse, that there may be food in my house…. If I will not open you the windows of heaven and pour you out a blessing….” Mal 3:10 as a gentle reminder to GIVE MONEY..

Tonight I attend the premiere of Kibuga, with a late start and a late discovery that it’s a gospel drama to demonstrate the emptiness of worldly pleasures. Fortunately the gospel bit goes right over my head and I enjoyed a couple of hours of great singing, drumming, dancing and storytelling!

Monday I strike out across town to walk to the Girl Guides at BP House in Buganda Road which takes me through the centre of town. Here it is crowded with many armed police and riot trucks at each corner. BY the time I get to Buganda Rd, I hear the first shots of tear gas being aimed at the Walk to Work procession, who are making a peaceful protest.

Very sad that there is such a crackdown with people injured and the government later claiming that these people have no rights to protest! At BP House I meet with some lovely young leaders and we chat about a few of the problems they are dealing with as an association, including owning valuable land that is underutilised. They organise for me to meet with their Chief Commissioner this afternoon so in the meantime I visit the Uganda Museum and amongst the poor displays there is a photography exhibition from a new book, Extra Ordinary Women from Uganda.

While at lunch there, I get a call back from Ngamba Island that they have a group on Thursday that I can join to visit the Chimpanzee Sanctuary. What great luck, and between short rains I walk downhill all the way back to town past green scenic golf courses to find Speare House very near where I am staying. I meet with Morine Wayamunno, Uganda Girl Guide Association’s Chief Commissioner at her work office. Morine is lovely and I mention the museum’s photo exhibition with the photo of the Presidential Advisor, Juliana Bezuidenhuit in her Girl Guide uniform. Morine shows me a copy of the book and tells us that she and her daughter are also in it and the photographer is a friend of the family. Ooh I now know someone famous! Back at New City Annexe reception I try and extend my stay in my windowed room so I can spend a few days going to various concerts, plays and dance exhibitions as well as visit Ngamba. Yes its possible until Friday.

Exploring the nearby Nakumatt and Garden City plazas, I find there is half price cinema today at both malls. I choose to see Viva Riva, a very gory story about a handsome Congolese being chased by an extremely good looking Angolan, looking for his stolen oil. In the African way they all end up dead but it was something different.

Then tonight is The story of John Akii Bua: An African Tragedy at the National Theatre. Starting time is 7pm and I stroll over around 6.30pm to find a reception going on for invited guests and crew. I get in on the basis of being a mzungu and drink up the free beer but not quick enough to beat the hungry Africans for the free food on offer! lol John Aki Bua won gold at the Munich Olympics in 1972 for 400m Hurdles but died unknown at 47 years of age. He was one of 43 children form a father who had 8 wives, joined the police force and trained as an athlete. HE should have defended his record in 1976 at Montreal but was withdrawn after Idi Amin announced that Ugandan athletes would not take part, as a protest at New Zealand playing rugby with apartheid South Africa. He was soon barred from competing abroad by the ruling General and he fled to Kenya with his family when the war with Tanzania was at its climax. International media found him at a camp in Kenya, rescued him and Puma offered him employment in Germany, where he and his family tried to settle but at that time being African in Europe was very difficult. After returning to Uganda he died in relative anonymity. His family were present and the theatre was full of Akii Bua admirers as each appearance was applauded. The General Amin character was also applauded but I wasn’t sure if that was for the actor or whether they actually liked General Amin.

Another night at the National Theatre for Uganda’s National Contemporary Dance presentation of ‘The Power of Hope’. It is choreographed to original music written by a US composer especially for the company. The Power of Hope is set against the usual African backdrop of impending drought, famine, war and the eventual rise of the human spirit to surmount these issues. The dancers include 12 youths from Kayda Orphanage, percussionists and video footage. It is stirring music and the choreography was fabulous, 10,000 shillings (A$3.50) for a wonderful evening. Thursday I head off very early to arrive in Entebbe in plenty of time for the 9am boat to Ngamba Island. I find the office but alas the booked group have not paid nor turned up and no one can get any confirmation from them. Another girl turns up at the last minute but that still is only two of us, they are very sorry unless we want to pay $150 each. I rebook for Saturday, when they assure me they have paid bookings, pay my money and spend a pleasant few hours at the Uganda Animal Sanctuary, checking out a few rescued animals and enjoying the rural peace here. There is a great display set up by the ‘Soft Power Education’ www.softpowereducation.com all about the historic and present Murchison Falls. They have all sorts of interesting evidence including The African Queen playing on a flat screen, more video footage of an interview with Idi Amin trying to talk to the crocodiles, clippings about Hemingway’s holiday jaunt and near fatal air crash there. There were audio recordings from witnesses of the Lord’s Resistance Army trainings there and interviews and re-enactments within the park from reformed poachers.

The refuge itself is ok but memorable only for the close views of a couple of Shoebill stork and Crested cranes. They also have a couple of Uganda Kob which are reddish brown antelopes and part of Uganda’s coat of arms. Nearby are the Entebbe Botanical Gardens where many Tarzan movies were filmed – I wonder which vines Johnny used? Walking about I meet with Dick and Beanie who have been travelling a few weeks here in East Africa but made time to make a flying visit to Juba to see the newest  world country, South Sudan. Beanie first visited Africa as a Peace Corp member in 1964 and was based in Ethiopia for 2 years! I could not even begin to imagine what Ethiopia must have been like in those days. Since then the couple have been supported and sustained by collecting West African art and crafts to resell from their home, twice a year. We join up for a lovely lunch of half decent pizzas and great coffee at Annas Corner Cafe. There is a shop on site with loads of jewellery, local fabric crafts etc and we all linger finding more things to buy. Soon enough we part ways, they to head back for a last few hours of four star luxury before flying out tonight and me back to town for a spot more shopping at Uganda 2000 Crafts which is stocked wall to wall, floor to ceiling with all manner of local fair trade arts and crafts. After scouring the shelves I come up with a few women table mats. Then a lovely walk back along Kampala Rd in the twilight with everyone either closing up, going home or setting up for the evening.  Tonight I see a comedy night at the National Theatre and even though the accents were heavy, and a lot of the jokes in local language, there were still enough skits that I ‘got’ even if just for their African flavour.

Next day I get a call from Ngamba at 9am, that I can join a tour today – too bad the boat went two minutes ago and I am still in Kampala. Spend a lazy day online updating the blog, then head out to Alliance Francaise but they don't have a café there – I am shocked! So I head to a different shopping Lugogo Mall where I find another branch of Banana Boat with more Ugandan souvenirs, b*gger more shopping. I get a Bodaboda back through town during peak hour which in itself is an adventure. Tonight I dine out on Turkish before heading back to the National Theatre for Dance Transmissions Festival, 2011, contempory dance workshops, exhibitions and performances. All was fine until the third dance, a Ugandan dance company who portrayed prophesies according to the Book of Revelations in the bible. This was the crucifixion of Jesus and again I find myself debating religion as part of culture? I get that it is a big part of their lives while they struggle to understand anyone who admits to not having religion etc etc….

All week I have been extending my stay at New City Annexe and there is no guarantee of the same room again tomorrow night so I pack up in anticipation of being moved whilst visiting Entebbe tomorrow. I also pack another back of souvenir goodies that I will try and post at the Entebbe Post Office tomorrow!! After another early start I get to Entebbe to find that the PO opens at 9am – b*gger.  Heading on to the pier, I am given a lift from Ngamba staff to wait at restaurant at Uganda Wildlife. I caht with with a couple who were robbed second day in Kampala!! No boat, but I'm reassured its coming. Then the boat arrives but no people. I am confused and start to walk to the boat – a staff member turns up to tell me to go to the boat, more folk are coming. Meanwhile she has another bloke with her to take to another boat. I volunteer to take other boat (hoping its bigger cause the weather is rough and the waiting boat is small) but by the time we get there, that boat has left. Returning to the first boat it is now full with Alex on board. It’s all turning African and I am happy to give the whole thing a miss.

The staff are distraught but I cheerfully offer to rescind my passage to be paid by Alex. Upon leaving I ask them to give the chimps my regards, telephone Kampala to check out (cause my bags was already packed) and get great service at the now opened post office to send a 2 kg parcel off home. Early lunch back at Annes Corner with their lovely plunge decaf coffee followed by a long and slow taxi back to Kampala. I pick up my pack, grab a couple of Govinda’s gorgeous samosas take away and installed on a coaster bus to Jinja within the hour. Visiting Ngamba just wasn’t meant to be.

NOTE: Entebbe is situated right about on the equator and is infamous amongst those of us old enough to remember the plane hijack that was force landed in Entebbe in 1976. The hijackers were Palestinian and german terrorists who held Israelis on board after sending all the other passengers off. This was going to be Idi Amin’s big moment on the world stage if he could only broker a deal and have Uganda rescue the hostages on behalf of the world. Israel, however, had other ideas and sent in its own small rescue team who clinically eliminated the hostages and rescued their countrymen. One women was missing, who was taken to hospital during the siege – she was never seen again.

9 - 14 OCTOBER 2011

UGANDA – Country number 22 – UGANDA

KABALE AND LAKE BUNYONYI

Current exchange US$=2840 Ugandan Shillings

Easy bus ride of 82km to the Ugandan border crossing from Gatuna in Rwanda to Katuna in Uganda. The Ugandan immigration official kept reading my visa, and reading my visa and checking my passport. Ten minutes passed and I asked a few times “Is there a problem?” He ignored me and I kept waiting and occasionally persisted with the same question. Eventually he admitted to being baffled by a stamp on the visa that was very faint – he couldn’t read what the stamp said. When I checked, I read out to him‘Ugandan High Commission, Dar es Salaam’ and then he was very happy stamping me into Uganda with the advice that when I returned to that office in Dar, I should tell them to use better ink!! Back on th ebus I chat with Pastor Robert who would like to invite me to his church on Sunday if I will be in Kampala? Yes I will and yes I’ll go – I am sure I can do with a few more blessings in my life! Another 23kms brings me to Kabale, the gateway to Lake Bunyonyi – a traveller’s paradise according to the blurb. Walking through to the other end of town, I find Edirisa, a community cultural centre, museum, restaurant and hostel. Checking in, I get a grand tour of the simple facilities with lots of info and being reassured that ”you are now part of our family”. Very sweet of them. The museum consists of an example of a traditional hut in a large room with many examples of tools, goods and dress.  There are canoe safaris on offer here and as much as I do like an occasional paddle, three full days is not too appealing especially when I learn you have to paddle yourself! Striking out to a local hardware store, I get a new sim card AND very groovy torch (in the absence of my head torch) that recharges directly from AC and is also small enough to carry (up to now I had only found battery lights and torches to light up a whole room). Let there be light! Then I check out a café downtown with great chai and free wifi of decent speed – whoo hoo!

Here in the dorm I chat with Lisa, an entomologist who is here trying to contribute to science teaching at a local school, but found she was right up against it because of a lack of student motivation to actually ‘learn’ and a general unwillingness to learn new teaching techniques on behalf of the staff!. I also chat with Rosie from Sydney, who has established her very own project and currently has nine children in an orphanage. www.foundationsau.org  I asked her how she determined to get here in the first place – she saw a doco on the ABC and telephoned to find out where it was, jumped on a plane and here she is!! Amazing determination.  A nice night at Edirisa and wake up to find three new travellers here in the dorm – the three Israelis whom I met in Moshi, Tanzania that quit the safari! They took an overnight bus from Kampala, arriving here at 5am! They are looking at a canoe safari but until they are all well, are heading to Byoona Amagara @ Itambira Island. I have also considered staying there but think I will stay on the lake shore and make a day trip out to the island one day for lunch.  I hope I can share a taxi with them to the lake so fill in a few hours online and then buying up fruit. By early afternoon they have decided that they’ll head to the lake later in the day so my next option today is to get bodaboda out there. A bodaboda is a small 125cc motorbike and with me and my pack on board we travel the 9km out to Lake Bunyoni along a fabulously scenic dirt road. I have now decided I will return to town on Friday, market day, when public transport is available to save another trip back on the bodaboda!! Especially as the short rains are setting in and I cannot see the road improving anytime soon.

Lake Bunyonyi is GORGEOUS, placid, encircling 29 islands and is surrounded by gently sloping hills with the small village here. All the countryside is terraced and farmed and with the daily short rains now set in, everything is a lovely emerald green. The gardens at Bunyonyi Overland Camp where I pitch my little tent on a ledge overlooking the peaceful lake are extra nice. Comings and goings on the lake are usually by dugout canoe so the only sounds are the splash of a paddle, birdies during the day and the froggies at night. This camp is a stop for many of the ubiquitous overland trucks which are huge things. They park at the top of the camp and disgorge 20+ folk who can be a very mixed bunch. They don’t seem to be very keen on to venture anywhere except for where they are pointed at!! That means no visits to the village, except if their tour leader takes them, no trips on the lake and certainly no meals anywhere else than other what is dished up by the truck cook. The constant pitching and striking of tents every day must be very tiring too. I think I’d be awol half the time on a trip like that because even if they have a free day it sees them hanging about, doing laundry and resting. My travelling seems like a never ending pleasure holiday compared to that style of ‘go, go, go’ travel. I guess you do cover large distances very quickly but you couldn’t have any interaction with local populations, even with its frustrations and only see what is ‘on the itinerary’. On another day the truck folk are taken in groups to an orphanage, which must be the lifeblood of www.littleangels.org because during the visit all are asked to sponsor a child whom you meet there and then! Is Uganda the home of the orphanage for mzungus? I guess with the steady stream of tourists, it must make it an effective place to get sponsors and thus money.

Next day I head to the village dock to organise a day trip to Byoona Amagara on Itambira Island, at the very heart of the lake. The little man agrees to 3000 shillings each way to take me there. There is an extra paddle on board our dugout canoe so I get to paddle along too, which is so lovely and relaxing as he did the navigating, steering and general commentary. The morning is sunny, water is calm and we arrive within the hour. On landing I meet the Israelis again, who are very enamoured of this place. Walking around, it is indeed very peaceful and the menu here is tailored for the mzungu and is nothing short of wonderful. After a great lunch, I watch rolling clouds closing in and head back to the canoe where the little man thanks me ‘for keeping time’. On the lake there are now waves and I’m keen to keep moving because I do not want to get caught in the middle of this lake in a heavy downpour, bailing. The little man tells me it will not rain and he is so right because threatened rains didn’t appear until the next day! I’d been told there were fine views over the lake from Arcadia Cottages high above us, so getting directions I head off the next morning. A hike and a half uphill, asking the occasional person I meet if I am still on the right track along with fab views all the way up. However environmentally it is an awful sight – eucalyptus plantations, cultivated lands and badly eroded tracks that are washing away with every rain.

I make to the top and the views are breathtaking. Playing lady of the manor, I order tea and take in the wonderful vista especially those big black clouds rolling over the lake. I want to head to the other side of the village for lunch, so check which way the track is, head off back down the mountain. Soon enough I meet a lovely young man who wants to walk with me, with the rains gently starting and I slip down, landing gracefully (NOT) on my backside. He stays with me, guiding and holding my hand for which I was really grateful – the track here is awful with the continuing rain making it extra slippery. I feel so OLD but am very reluctant to topple down this mountain when my bruises from Parc d’Vulcan are healing so nicely. Eventually we make it down, part ways and I head to the Birds Nest for lunch. This is a fabulous building on the lake shores, which was originally built by a former Uni Chancellor who fell foul of General Amin (read disappeared/murdered). The building fell into disrepair over the years of internal strife then was resurrected by some Belgians who have turned it into a lovely hotel and restaurant. Continuing with my Lady Muck theme I dined on crayfish (fresh from the lake) salad, homemade ice cream with hot chocolate sauce washed down with a glass of South African white wine all the while watching the rains pelt down! Soon enough the short rain finishes and a light drizzle enables me to wander back to Overland Camp and I shift my tent out of the rain and under the shelter. The rain doesn’t let up all afternoon and when a new truck turns up, these tourists proceed to pitch in the rain. The first truck folk have moved their washing under the same shelter and I’m told “we are getting up at 4am tomorrow and will collect our washing so we hope we don’t disturb you.” Wasn’t that nice? Unfortunately in practice, collecting their washing somehow required them to stack the plastic chairs on which their washing was draped. And others felt that if they were up @ 4AM, then the whole world, which revolved around them, must be up too!! ggrrrrr And to make matters worse I wake up on the ground because of a leaky mattress so farewell old friend you have served me well.

Leaving it with a Congolese refugee because I’m sure he’ll find a use for it, if not repair it. I pack the tent and carry it back to Kabale in the hope that perhaps I can find a worthy recipient – perhaps Rosie’s orphanage could use it cause it could double as an insect net for sleeping babies?  A nice walk down to the boat dock and the market is getting underway – so the matolos are all lined up in anticipation. These matolos are privately owned passenger cars used for public transport, in which you cram four people in, back and front. We wait for one to fill but I’m in no hurry and its fun to people watch as they come from all points of the lake for this market. Finally others turn up and its an easy trip in a back to Kabale, compared to the slightly hair raising trip on the boda boda to get here. Checking in again I meet Emma, who is also travelling independently but has organised many volunteering stints at various organisations before coming out. She has travelled Ethiopia so was a mine of information, including enlightening me on the origin of the flea problem of which I heard so much about. More on that later, but let me tell you I will be searching for, and stocking up on flea powder in Nairobi before flying to Addis!! Before leaving Kabale, I receive an email from Ange that they have managed to locate my torch and have sent it with a friend to Kampala who is staying near the Jaguar Bus station. I get his cell number and am quietly excited because I am still naïve and believe that I just may get my head torch back. I preorder a rolex for my breakfast – a tasty combination of an omelette rolled up in a chapatti – to take on the bus. mmmmm

FACT: Uganda is located between 4 degrees N and 2 degrees S, straddling the equator but due to its elevation of 1100m above sea level (I appreciate the hills now) the weather is very pleasant. Established on seven hills and known as the Pearl of Africa Uganda is landlocked. Bordering Kenya, South Sudan, Rwanda, DRC Congo and Tanzania, its name comes from the Buganda Kingdom and gained independence in 1962. Their population stands at 31 million and growing at a rate of 3.6% which cannot be not good news for their struggling infrastructure. Then there is the rampant inflation currently sitting at 28.3%, rising from 21.8% in August and 14% in July. They are grappling with the worst economic indicators in decades and no relief in sight. Times are getting touch but an amusing aside to this was an article in the paper (as usual). It had a photo of a parish priest castigating his unhappy flock because ‘they are returning the Offertory Envelopes empty”. This priest had invited the press to embarrass his parish into giving to the Bishop’s Annual Appeal. If I was a parishioner, I’d tell him to get on a direct line to the Vatican and ask them!!

6 – 9 OCTOBER 2011

MUSANZE (formerly Ruhengeri), KIGALI

GORILLAS IN THE MIST

 Travelling to Musanze, the gateway town to Parc National des Vulcans the day before my trek which it is only two hours away, the bus was easy to find, easy to board and leaves on time, the road is excellent and the scenery stunning with verdant hills all being cultivated to the tippy tip top of each one. It’s raining when we arrive and I check in at the Tourist Rest House to contact Dakin there who is running a Peace Club and a Girl Guide member.

the short, but heavy rains

I thought we arranged to meet at the Fatima Centre and amidst another massive downpour (a long short rain perhaps?) I wait and wait and exchange many sms to ascertain that she is still coming and is only minutes away. After waiting nearly two hours I give up and return to dry off and ponder the state of the mountains tomorrow after all this rain. Tonight I realise I have left my head torch at the Kigala hotel – bugger. Try ringing but telephone number on receipt is not connected. I ring Ange and ask if she has time, to call in and collect on my behalf? She will try. This afternoon I have to try and find transport to Kinigi in the morning and after trying a few hotels in town and leaving my number jic, I decide there are no tourists here. I get a quote of $80 from a local driver so I eventually try ORTPN who tell me they have a car going tomorrow morning to transport some hikers already at Kinigi.

Volcanos in the distance

I ask if it’s possible I could get a lift in the car – he asks if I could take a bad $5 note that he obviously cannot cash and we both agree ‘it’s possible’. The suggested price is $15 and I will be picked up at my lodge 6am tomorrow  YEEAAHHH !

I pay a visit the Gorrila Information Resource Centre and read up on lots of information about Dian Fossey and her experiences at this park, including disproving the ‘savage’ reputation that the wild gorillas  had. She was murdered, presumably by poachers in 1985 but has been immortalised by the film Gorillas in the Mist.

I learn a lot from DiGit news, www.gorillas.org including how at risk the habituated gorilla families are form human respiratory diseases.

It also reported that research is showing an increase in the mountain gorilla populations now at 480 , an increase of 100 since the 2003 count and double the amount recorded in Dian Fossey’s first census in the 19602. With the numbers in Bwindi and  DR Congo, this puts the population at 786!! I also read about measures being introduced to discourage determined silverback gorillas from invading/destroying local lands and crops as this annoys the farmers and puts the gorillas at risk.  All in all a great visit and I am really looking forward to my visit tomorrow with hope that I will see a mountain gorilla safe in its own habitat.

This gorilla liked my rain poncho

Early wake up because I am so excited – and then think I have the wrong time and have missed my lift because it is so light outside? I ask someone the time am told 6.15am, argh have I missed the lift? Telephoning Jason at ORTPN, who reassures me and soon enough the car arrives and I am very relieved not to have ‘done my dough’ because there is no refund on a no show for the trek. On the way the driver explains that because of the hikers that he may not be able to come back for me until late – I should try and find a lift back if I can. But I can please pay him half the money now – which is what I had planned to do anyway. We arrive at Virungas Park HQ, and its very peaceful there before the other muzungus turn up with their tour groups. I approach some tour guides who are all chatting together and explain that because I am independent that I am looking to join a group to get to the car park.

The Peregrine guide says they have 6 and can take me in their group and I thought we successfully communicated this to the ranger but alas when groups are sorted, Peregrine have been allocated another couple. There is a group of six – 4 UN staff from Arusha (working on the Genocide trials) and a couple from US/UK. The couple have a 4wd so they take the Guide and myself. The road to the trail head is appalling – local kids are all waving along the way to the muzungus in the 4wds dashing past them in their bare feet and rag clothes. At the car park we meet up with our armed guard to walk to the edge of the forest where we will then find out how far away the gorillas are. Here at Virunga there are gorilla trackers who head out each day to find the gorillas that have usually only moved within a kilometre or two from where they were previously the day before. We are visiting the Amahoro Group/ Family—Amahoro meaning peaceful has 17 members led by the peaceful Silverback Ubumwe.We are told that Amahoro is a more strenuous group to access compared to Group 13 or Sabyinyo.

MUD MUD MUD               GORILLAS GORILLAS GORILLAS

Onwards and upwards on the muddiest track I have ever walked. This is no walk in the park even if there is a semblance of track to follow. As I stepped, the mud rose over the top of my boot and as I walked, I was pulling each foot out of the ooze hoping not to leave the boot in it! Ahead the guard was hacking away with his machete, at the undergrowth of the forest to vaguely clear the way for us. So for an hour and a half we traipsed, ducked, slid and marched slowly up the volcano to get nearer the silverbacks.  Our guide is in contact with the tracker and soon we are in hearing distance of his hoots. We leave our bags and walking sticks in a pile and only take cameras and raincoats with us to be nearer the family. I hear rustling and soon spot a young gorilla who sizes us up while cameras are madly clicking away.

It soon sidles up to me to tug at my poncho and the guide eases it away, whilst I am so thrilled to be so close that I have to resist picking it up for a cuddle! As we step away we notice more of the family about us. There are a couple of nursing mums, the alpha male silverback lounging away on a nest in the sun

Our hour is soon over and we slip and slide and battle though the hacked undergrowth of bamboo back down the volcano. Have I mentioned the pouring rain? It is very hard going and I am typically awkward especially with the slippery, muddy track. Eventually we reach the edge of the park, cross the trench dug to discourage the animals from wandering into local fields and I topple down over the volcanic rocks very slowly, with each limb landing one at a time ending with my head – It’s a bad feeling knowing that your head is about to hit rocks and you don’t have a hand to save it.

I was very lucky not to be badly hurt and assure the guide that I have no fractures – I bet they were grateful they didn’t have to haul me out! Lol Even though we were off the volcano by then we still have some pretty muddy paths to get through across the fields to the car. One by one we all succumb to the muddy paths and Carol slips hard making her very dizzy with the pain from her fall. I slip again in the mud and upon being hauled up a second time, the guide says ‘what is that’ pointing to a huge swelling on my arm as big as egg!!

OMG I have never seen such a thing and wonder if I have been bitten – the guide says ‘no problem, if it does not hurt its ok – it’s a contusion.’ I place a VERY firm pressure on it, wishing this lump away with great success. By the time we make it back to the cars the bruising is coming out and the lump is much diminished. However closer inspection of my legs shows another couple of contusions coming up on each shin along with some beautiful bruising. I show them to the driver who immediately feels sorry for me and insists that he can drive meal the way back to Muzanse after dropping his clients off at their hotel. I chat with them on the way back – it is Eric’s second time to trek the gorillas and they have climbed Kilimanjaro and did a safari in the Masai Mara. I wonder at the state of the roads up here at the villages and wonder if some of the minimum US$20,000 earned a day from the gorillas couldn’t be ploughed back into the local villages. Eric authoritively tells me that Rwanda doesn’t have a budget and relies on foreign aid. He says that money is used to build schools and clinics for the local villages. I didn’t like to argue cause they were giving me a lift but I still think that once you build a school and a clinic they are finished and you could go on and build a decent road?  After dropping Carol and Eric at their lovely 5star lodge to rest by their private open fire, I get driven back to Musanze for which I am grateful of the lift and pay the driver the equivalent of $15 and he’s pretty pleased with that.
I wash mud from everything I have worn including my boots which are caked thick with the stuff. After an hour or so of washing, rinsing and wringing I think I have conquered the mountain’s mud, nursed my wounds and bruises along with displaying them to the lodge staff who are ‘very sorry’! Feeling somewhat presentable I telephone Clementine of the Musanze Girl Guides to arrange to visit the Region office. The local moto taxi says he knows where to go, but of course he doesn’t, so after many stops, starts and useless directions I make another call and Clementine explains where she is – on the main road of course and we have already ridden past it!! I am warmly welcomed and shown around 2 rooms set up – one with knitting machines and the other with many, many sewing machines. They are producing knitted goods like scarves and school jumpers which are very popular hereabouts. I am invited to return tomorrow to meet the Guides which I eagerly accept. Wandering around town looking for dinner, I now firmly believe that Musanze just may be the Buffet capital of the world! All restaurants serve buffets – all the same foods and it doesn’t change between lunch and dinner. But checking out the market, passionfruit are in season, which make a yum addition to bananas.

A tennis club!!

Next day I decide to rest up my bruises, walking around town to sight two entcourt*** courts complete with clubhouse and gardens planted with roses. I settle down on the seats to watch some talented lads play tennis at the first tennis courts I have seen in all of Africa! I’m meeting Clementine and the Guides at 11am – Clementine rings to say can we make it treize – 1300 – 1pm. I detour to tourist hotel for some lunch and spend an hour or so sorting out my ebook reader’s ‘collections’. Time passes soon enough and I continue walking to the Guides, where a lovely young Guide appears to guide me to Clementine’s home where I meet her husband, check out family and Guiding photos and eat a second (albeit small) lunch. The Guides turn up and we head off to a local cave that I suspect may be part of a greater Musanze Cave complex that forms part of the Albertine Rift Valley. 

Of course we attract much attention – the muzungu and girls wandering the highway on a lovely sunny day.  I teach the girls a couple of songs - ‘Everywhere we go’ and ‘Ram Sam Sam’ which they pick up quickly and seem to enjoy.  We get ‘snapped’ by a local photographer and walking back into Musanze some of the girls run ahead ‘because she is hungry’. Walking around I could not help but notice that there seems to be many more armed military on each street corner here – when I asked Clementine about it, she laughed it off saying that ‘we are scared in case we have another genocide.’ Despite an outward appearance of calm, I feel that Rwanda may still be a fragile country. Someone else also referred to this saying “there are many people over the border in DRC who think that the ‘job’ (genocide) is not finished”.

We return to Clementine’s home where her son who has the house key has not returned. We wait out front and I teach them an easy game, the key turns up and the girls eat the remains of lunch. Clementine’s sister turns up to tell her that her very young daughter was locked in the house – everyone forgot about her being put to bed and left her alone for several hours!

Fields of pyrethum daisy

They all found this quite funny but I was really shocked because I witnessed the girl being put to bed and I didn’t give her moment’s thought either! Clementine gets stuck into her sorghum bee and is very insistent that I should return to Rwanda with my husband next year in August for a catholic ceremony of some sort for her children. She declares “I invite you!”  I tell her I will do my best but feel very lousy because I feel there is no way I could ever make it back here then even though if I could, I would. After singing and dancing together the girls and Clementine walk me back to the main road and I am encouraged to pick a gift and when I decline they pick out a scarf for me because ‘it can get cold in Kenya’.

Next day I make a day trip to Gisenyi, on Lake Kivu on the DRC border, only 60kms away from Musanze on another good road with fantastic scenery all the way. Lake Kivu is estimated at being one to five million years old (you’d think someone could have a nearer estimation that that?), with a depth of 485m! On a lovely sunny day waves are lapping at the shore which is bordered by fantastic gardens and tree lined roads. It’s Sunday so everyone is about, either walking to or from church or basking by the beach here. However this lake also has an interesting side to it – not only was it used a dumping ground for many, many bodies during the genocide – it is also one of only three lakes (the other two are in Cameroon) that experience limnic eruptions!  Apparently rare, this event is caused by carbon dioxide suddenly erupting from the depths of the lake and gathering into a deadly cloud on its surface causing death to animals and humans alike!

Not today though as the current water pressure is twice that of the gas pressure and that methane is being utilised for electricity production. It’s the weekend and lots of folk out enjoying the beaches and parks here on the lake.  I walk the shores and take a short cut through a large hotel, ending up at their deliveries gate where I was told that ‘guests are not allowed to exit this gate’. I try reasoning with the two security guards that am not a guest, have taken a shortcut and want to pass through their gate to the road beyond. ‘NO, not possible, guests cannot come out this gate.’

No thatched roofing here in Rwanda!!

Sometimes Africa is soooo frustrating – they have been told what to do and they cannot think past it. Again I try explaining and hit a wall – they even take out their cell phones wondering who to call because this mzungu wants to go out the gate! In the end I walk past them both, push the gate open and pass through closing the gate behind me. Believe it or not, we are all happy –me because I got through and them because they ‘did not let me pass’, as per their instructions. How I got through was not their concern – they can’t lose their jobs for what a mzungu chooses to do, can they?  I find the Bikini Tam-Tam Bar and Restaurant – what a name and spend a lovely few hours relaxing and reading Little Women by the lake in lovely sunshine. It’s an easy trip back to Musanze and next day I take another scenic drive back to the capital, Kigali in the hope of retrieving my head torch.

Abundant produce - carrots

Arriving at the bus park, I buy a ticket for Uganda with a departure at midday, leave my pack at the office and get a moto to Auberge la Caverne to retrieve my torch. The staff tell me that someone came and picked up my torch on Saturday – Ange says they should have got a receipt and they must be keeping it. Ah well if someone else liked my torch more than I, so be it – the trip back to the capital was no great hardship and if anything very pleasant and I’ll have efficient transport from here to across this border as opposed to my earlier the alternative of local cars on back roads.

NOTE: The current government, Paul Kagame’s RPF won 93% of the vote in the August 2010 election, the second poll since ‘Divisionism’ legislation was implemented in 2002. This law provides hefty prison terms and fines for sowing discord between Hutus and Tutsis, but detractors cite the legislation as vague and being used by the current government to suppress political dissent and opposition. 

3 – 5 OCTOBER 2011

RWANDA – Country number 21 – RWANDA

KIGALI

Waving farewell to my new truckie friends at the border car park, I cross the frontier bridge by foot and with my visa have no problems getting stamped in. Conveniently there are forex currency bureaus here at the border, along with a waiting coaster bus that is filling to go to Kigali. We leave within the hour and after two hours and many more fabulous hills later we arrive at the outskirts of Kigali which is built on more hills. Whose bright idea was it to build a city on hills? And I have to mention that these are not small hills either! This makes every street either going up or down a hill – there is no level ground areas unless created by concrete!!  

This gorilla is telephoning the world to tell them of the genocide.

SERIOUSLY

Arriving at the bus station, I take a moto taxi to the Auberge La Caverne, check into an ok room and head straight into town to pay a visit to ORTPN, the issuer of all Gorilla Trek permits in Parc de Vulcans. Now popular advice tells travellers that they should book a gorilla trek permit months in advance as the demand is so great. But of course those who know me will not be surprised that I just try my luck as I have a week to spare so can afford a few days I ask for a permit for Friday, my first preference  and get it, no problems and yes they take plastic for the US$500 payment!! This is fantastic (if expensive) and I leave ORTPN with a huge smile on my face and a gorilla trek permit in my pocket.  Walking about the small centre of town is either uphill or downhill and I make a big effort to walk everywhere in anticipation of the volcano hike on Friday. Next morning I head out to the Kenyan Embassy to enquire about visas. Multiple entry visa please? “No, not available. Single entry only.” I explain my travel plans that include an entry from Uganda and another entry from Madagascar four weeks later. “That’s ok – you get a visa each time, $50 and $50.” Could I get a multiple entry visa in Kampala? “No.” I try again, “But you used to have multiple entry visas?” “Yes, but we don’t have the stickers for them anymore.” Aha, the ol’ sticker problem again… I suggest that perhaps they could use a single entry visa sticker and annotate it? “No, that would not be possible.” 

The infamous Hotel Rwanda

 I then ask if perhaps the border may have multiple entry visas – you know, less demand  and maybe there are still a few older stickers left in a drawer somewhere – you can try she tells me. Oh well, no success but that’s one less job for Kampala anyway.

Not too many sights here in Kigali – the highlight if you can call it that, is the Kigali Memorial Centre. And what can I tell you other than it is a lovely memorial to an absolutely tragic genocide with this very sad story told within the parameters of other world genocides. 

Peaceful now...

A few of the thousand hills in the distance

 The centre was established by www.aegistrust.org and is well thought out, even to the unmarked, mass graves here that are still being added to with an established rose garden to supply roses that are sold to visitors who wish to leave them at these graves. There is plenty of background evidence provided to adequately explain how this genocide was planned and ruthlessly carried out with numbers of deaths estimated at nearly two million people from the population of 7 million. And over 3 months the world stood back and watched.  I learnt that the division of tribes was formalised by the Belgium colonialists with the introduction of identity cards: A Tutsi owned more than 10 cattle, a Hutu less than 10 cattle and the remainder classified as Batwa (pygmy).  The country’s media was manipulated and used in the lead up to the genocide to cement suspicion and ill feeling but most did not suspect what was being plotted and were unbelieving at how ruthlessly and efficiently it was carried out. There are video recordings of survivors telling of their continuing traumas including one fact that really stood out for me: women were raped by HIV + men who were identified after the genocide to stand trial at the War Crimes court in Arusha, Tanzania.

There these men received ARV treatment but for the raped and infected victims left in Rwanda, there was no such luxury.  www.kigalimemorialcentre.org  The final room is a lovely tribute by surviving parents and families to their innocent children who fell victim to the human carnage with photos and accounts of their interests, talents and even their favourite foods.  After the genocide, Rwanda’s former districts were abolished and the country was divided into four districts – east, west, north and south along with many major towns being renamed in an effort to abolish any past perceived land divisions.

There are two further memorials to the genocide: churches in Ntarama and Nyamata on the outskirts of Kigali that I decide not to visit. During the genocide hundreds of people fled to these churches for shelter but all victims were indiscriminately killed. In one case it was the priest who alerted the Interahamwe militia to their presence and abetted his parish’s death!! According to the blurbs, bones and skulls are left on display and personal belongings left after the bodies were removed are a testimony to the genocide for anyone who may deny its occurrence. As an aside, many of the designers and instigators of this genocide fled into exile and remain out of reach today in Kenya, Cameroon and DRC Congo.

Every road is either uphill or downhill here

I have discovered free wifi at the Bourbon coffee shop so after lunch there, I visit the Girl Guide headquarters and am warmly welcomed by staff there including Ange, Pascaline, Laurence and Alexia the Chief Commissioner. They have a fab headquarters including a couple of rooms for accommodation. I check out Centenary celebration photos and am presented with a scarf woggle and earrings that are hand made. I also hear how they are tackling that age old acorn of deteriorating premises and little money to repair.  But in the meantime assests are put to good use including a nursery school of local parents.

working fountains, manicured gardens, what the??

I spend the rest of the afternoon searching for gardening gloves to wear on my gorilla trek- the advice is that there are nettles on the mountain. Not an easy task but I find a pair of mercerised rubber gloves that are way too big but might do the trick. I make sure my camera is charged with lots of room on the memory card and cannot wait to head east on Thursday, towards the Congo border which is where the gorillas live.

NOTE: More than 17 years after the 100 day Rwandan genocide, that resulted in the deaths of over 800,000 Tutsis (85% of the Tutsi population) and moderate Hutus, the Rwanda Demobilization and Reintegration Commission (RDRC) has been established as a step home for those who fled to the DRC militia at that time. Mutobo is a half way house between war and peace where over 90000 ex combatants have been processed since 2001 as part of the reintegration of armed militia members from the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) into Rwandan society. Many of the thousands had not been home since the 1994 genocide. Every ex-combatant including from the FDLR, DRC army, defunct FAR and Mai-Mai militias is required to go through the RDRC to become a civilian, a compulsory rite of passage in post-genocide Rwanda.  As well as a psychological demobilization, the reintegration package participants must have ‘elaborated a small business project’ by the time they leave, receive US$100 towards it and assistance with medical fees. However there are some civilians trying to disguise themselves as ex-combatants to be eligible for the Mutobo program which has now implemented screening followed by ‘fine screening’ to separate three of every 10 potential clients, who hoped to sneak into the programme under false pretences. 

1 - 3 OCTOBER 2011

LAKE VICTORIA

Travelling north of the Serengati’s western corridor and the Grumetti River, it is lovely countryside with fantastic views right across the plains. I chat with three Masai on board the bus, who are headed to west Serengeti for work. We arrive at Musoma around 6pm, luggage is unloaded from the bus and Juro finds his pack has been soaked right through. Mine is a little muddy but not too bad considering. Immediately a local lass spots me, takes a shine to me and insists on taking me to wherever I want to go! We try the Stigma hotel, where Juro immediately takes flight because he can’t afford $12. I can, so up the stairs to dump my pack and head back out with my new friend to the bus company where she enquires on my behalf about a ticket to Mwanza in the morning. Here at the office, the bus leaves at 5.30am and from the bus station at 7.30am. I am in no rush especially when assured that there are plenty of tickets available. My friend assures me she will come in the morning to take me to the bus station and we walk back to her shop to share a beer there and meet her mother. Dinner that night is at a local bar with fish, shima, a local newspaper and plenty of folk who are mystified at my appearance there!

My new friend in Musoma

Next morning my friend is telephoning at 6am – she obviously doesn’t want me to miss the bus so is here already. By 6.30am we are out the door, checking with a couple of bus yards but continue on to the bus station on moto taxis. She puts me on the Mwanza bus, assures herself that I have a ticket at the right price before heading back to town – my shout. And that is the only payment she accepted! I still remain mystified why she decided to adopt me, but I was very grateful that she did. The Mwanza bus heads out of town on time and on board are the three Masai that I met the day before and we greet each other like old friends!! The countryside here is still green but becoming hilly but no glances of Lake Victoria as yet. At Bunda the Masai alight and they wish me well in my journey.  One hour later we arrive near Mwanza and the bus makes several drop offs around town. I have been quizzing my seat mate about where she is headed – Geita – on this bus. I start to understand that this bus will travel further westwards towards where I eventually want to go but turns off towards Bukoba in the north. The conductor wants to know where I want to go and after a bit of confusion and advice we work out that I can continue on this bus, get dropped at Bwanga and find other transport to travel onwards to Biharamulo. This will shorten my travel to the border tomorrow considerably. As the bus pulls in at the station in Mwanza, we take on more passengers for the trip to Bukoba, and head south towards the lake where I am again adopted by a lovely man who assures me that my planed route is sound and will get me to Biharamulo by the end of the day.

Ferry on Lake Victoria

But first we have to get across Victoria Lake by a vehicle ferry and one has broken down meaning that this one operating will be doubly loaded and twice as busy. I chat to a muzungu family on the ferry, South Africans now living and teaching in Geita. They assure me that this ferry is ok and again that my plans are ok – I do like to double check information I get just because! Its a safe crossing on Lake Victoria then back on the bus to head across the Tanzanian countryside. Many hours later we arrive at Bwanga, which is a tiny village, where I and my luggage are unloaded.  I ask here and there ‘Biharamulo’ and get directed around the corner and across the road where I find a car heading to Biharamulo that has just filled up – bugger. Then a young man dashes across the road and insists that they must take the mzungu. Now this car has three passengers and a driver in the front seats, four passengers across the bench seat and two passengers in the back. The driver relents and says if I can squeeze in at the back up to whatever town he said, I can get a seat the rest of the way. I clamber in without any ceremony because I want to keep heading west today and the last thing I want is to get stuck here. The road is dirt, dusty and red but I feel even sorrier for the many cyclists we pass, showering them each time with dust and stones. After about half an hour, we pull up, passengers alight and I get a quarter of the back bench seat – and I am a happy traveller again until we pull in at a small village where repairs are done to the car.  By the interest in me, I gather not too many mzungus get here and many, many children and adults alike find an excuse to slowly walk past and check me out! They are very shy and don’t really respond too well to being greeted so in the end I ignore them until eventually we get going again. The road is still atrocious, a deep red dust but as long as we move forward I am very happy. Eventually another long day finishes with a 6pm arrival at Biharamulo where I meet a lovely young man who immediately adopts me as soon as I step out of the bus park. He is very happy because he has received his second year results today and has passed well. He takes me around to a couple of guesthouses, sees me installed in White Lodge and then gives me a grand tour around town including the hospital, municipal offices etc. Dinner that night was ugali, great vegies, avocado salad and a Nile Perch head – memories of a movie I saw a few years ago – Darwin’s Nightmare that described the social and environmental changes being wrought by the introduction of the Nile Perch into Lake Victoria. One of them being that the fish fillet is exported to Europe, leaving only the heads and carcasses to sell at local markets.

Next morning I’m up early, eager to make a good start to get across the border and on to Kigali. At the bus park, I look for a shared taxi to ‘Rusumu’, find one with a young mum already on board, and within the hour we have enough passengers to head off.

Dumped literally the middle of nowhere on the way to Rwanda

BUT after an hour of travel and dropping passengers at their various destinations, there is only the young mum with baby and I left on board. So unless the driver can find more passengers on the way to Rusumu, he won’t make money. So he obviously decides to cut his losses, parks at an intersection and unceremoniously drops us there. In the middle of NOWHERE, to find more onward transport and we are a long way from where either of us wants to go. We are very unhappy about this bad treatment by the driver and locals try hailing a lift for the mzungu. Eventually a truck pulls up and offers me a lift right to the border as he is on the way to Congo. I climb on board and take a slow but sure way to Rusumu though the amazing hills of this part of the country that continues into Rwanda – the land of a thousand hills. Of course travelling in a truck on these beautiful hills is very slow going but I only see one other car pass us so I very grateful for this lift to the border. We stop for breakfast at a weighbridge parking along with the rest of the trucks who are driving this road and the driver deposits me at a shack café where I have the best cup of tea I have had for ages – piping hot too. After his paperwork is finalised, the driver collects me up again and we make the Rwanda border by 11am which is great with a bit more luck because I will definitely get to Kigali mid-afternoon to accomplish a few chores today.

FACT: Tanzania is very proud of its history of peace and in the main they are very kind and helpful, considering that tourists have been coming here for eons. But I found as a muzungu travelling in the backblocks that I was often accorded special privileges as a guest of their country that was amazing, if somewhat embarrassing. But I quickly learnt to graciously accept what was offered – be it a seat/place in a queue/advice/snacks/conversation - as to refuse or negotiate was impolite to those who were being hospitable to the visitor. I really enjoyed Tanzania, its coffee and fabulous natural attractions which includes it’s people.