From Tanga to Zanzibar

The next stop along the way to Zanzibarian paradise was Tanga, a city that sits on the Indian Ocean, near the border with Kenya. It is a relatively large city, but is extremely laid back with very few tourists to be seen (very few touts as a result - heavenly). Tanga was chosen in 1889 as a military post of German East Africa, and remnants of German and then British influence could be seen in the city's infrastructure and architecture. The city also had a very high Indian and bicycle population.

Jamie and I checked into a classic little Tanzanian-run hostel where we were spoiled with the world's best fried chicken and chips maiai. We toured the city and visited the Aboni Caves which are the most extensive limestone caves in East Africa and home to over 10,000 bats; one flew smack into my forehead on our way out of the cave! Our remaining days were filled with bicycling through the city, playing intense games of bao, eating fried chicken, and relaxing under the African sun.

Tight squeeze in the Aboni Caves

Zanzibar is where the real relaxation began. We enjoyed exploring the maze-like streets and fascinating history and culture of Stonetown, Zanzibar’s capital city. We also took a very interesting spice tour and visited slave caves on the island’s coast. It was my first experience in a Muslum society and it was all very interesting!

Jamie and I were growing impatient for the beach so headed to our Paje beach house. We were lying on deserted white beach sand 5 minutes later; it was heaven. Our time in Zanzibar was spent snorkelling in the coral reefs (breathtaking), wining and dining, sun burning, reading, eating, eating, eating, spice touring, and deep sea fishing (our first legitimate near-death experience!). Time has never flown so fast; however, I did manage to squeeze 2 days of food poisoning in there.

Before we knew it, it was back to reality and time to put the shoes back on and shake the sand off ourselves. From Zanzibar we made the journey back to Dar Es Salaam, where we checked ourselves into the YWCA (where we spent our very first nights in Tanzania back in May). This time around, we confidently ordered our food in swahili, and forgot about our old comfort zone. We laughed while reflecting on our first experience in Dar Es Salaam and were quite impressed with how far we had come.

Wading along the coast of Prison Island, Zanzibar

Paje Beach

Sunset on the Indian Ocean; Coast of Stonetown, Zanzibar

Spotted a pod of dolphins during our big game fishing trip

Lushoto - Hiking in the Usambara Mountains

Along our journey to the coast from Moshi to Zanzibar, we stopped in Lushoto to do a bit of hiking. Lushoto is a modest town nestled in the thick rainforest of the Usambara Mountains. The mountains were inhabited by the Germans and the English during colonial times, as is evidenced by the numerous historic buildings lining the streets (we encountered German bunkers on our hike).

Jamie and I checked ourselves into a small local Christian hostel, where the owners communicated with a small notepad and a handful of jotted English translations (all of the essentials - what would you like to eat, sorry we do not have that, please, thank you, and of course the most vital translation, sexual intercourse). We spent the next day hiking through the mountains, visiting small villages along our way, minding the black and green vipers while hunting for chamealons. At 2000m it was time for lunch and we stopped into a local cheese factory for a bite.

After 9 hours of hiking and a hearty Tanzanian supper, we tucked ourselves in under our mosquito net and called it a night. A couple of days later we were off on yet another ridiculous tantastic voyage - Destination: ZANZIBAR!

Jamie at 2000m

Atop Irene Viewpoint

Lunch at the Action Safari Cafe

Farewell WODEF

I have no doubt that Jamie and I benefited more from our experience with WODEF than WODEF itself did. I feel that it took 2 months just to begin to understand life here. Whether we meant for it to or not, our time with WODEF and exposure to life in Africa will have a lasting impact on us. It has opened our eyes to so many realities.

Jamie and I set off down our dirt road on our last walk to WODEF on Friday morning. We stopped into the local photo shop to have photos from each of our WODEF groups printed and framed for gifts. I also planned to pop into the nearby curio to pick up scarves for the WODEF ladies. After our photos were finished, we headed to the curio shop which was closed so we headed to the WODEF office.

We were welcomed with hugs and were delighted to see that the Regional Director had come to bid us farewell as well the Siha director. Mr. Mambo greeted us with our official WODEF ID badges - I had to run back to the photo shop to have small photos printed for them. When they were finished, they looked pretty sharp.

Lovely snacks of andazi (Tanzanian doughnuts AKA greasy balls), samosas, milk tea and biscuits were prepared - everything was delicious. We gathered for a prayer and each of the WODEF executive took their turn to say a few words. I rounded up everyone for a picture and then went back to the photo shop once again to have 3 copies blown up, printed and framed. I ran to the curio shop and picked up enough scarves for all of the ladies.

I returned in time for the presentation of our certificates and letter of appreciation. The director then presented us with a card and gifts on behalf of the WODEF members. It was all so kind and much more than we had expected or could have asked for – we were both touched. It was our turn and we gave our card to the director and gave this morning’s photo to each of the directors for their offices. We also gave Genesis a framed picture that we took with his family. I then gave out the scarves to all of the ladies who were thrilled and all modeled them.

It was time to start our day of visiting WODEF groups to say our goodbyes. As we headed outside I looked at Jamie who was fighting back the tears and that’s when my waterworks began (he won’t admit this). After our hugs, Jamie, Genesis and I hopped on a dala to Mwanza to say goodbye to our WODEF members in the small village there. We arrived to a traditional dance and drums. We visited with everyone, took some pictures, had a little lunch and were presented with gifts. Afterwards we visited the dispensary and had another lunch there and said our goodbyes.

Our next stop was Njiapanda. We visited with our friends there and had yet another lunch and headed back to Moshi with very full bellies. Jamie was presented with an awesome zebra African shirt and another sharp African shirt and I received an African dress – gorgeous. We bid Genesis farewell and headed back to the hostel for cards and beers.

The next day I went shopping with some of the girls from the hostel and Jamie went to find himself a shave. We picked up an African game called Bao, a few more gifts, and took care of all of the odds and ends in Moshi that we had put off for 2 months. That night we visited with friends at the hostel and met up with one of our friends who left the hostel to live with a local family (our friend that helped Jamie knock out the power at the hostel while rigging the incubator wiring).

Wrapping up Life in Moshi

We recently received an excellent piece of news. Six weeks ago there had been a major power outage on Zanzibar and power was not expected to be returned until the end of July at the earliest. This had left the fate of the final 2 weeks of our trip in limbo as horror stories from people coming from Zanzibar were quite frequent. No food, no water, no electricity; all bad things. Then all of a sudden (if you can call a 6-week wait that) the power was back on. With our time in paradise secure trip morale was at an all-time high.

This was in sharp contrast with trip hygiene which had reached an all-time low. The 4-day trip back to Moshi, getting up at 6am every day and traveling had left us far too exhausted to shower (not to mention the thought of having cold showers again after 2 weeks of warm water). Having thrown out most of my dirty socks, I had been wearing the same pair for almost a week now an ironic twist of fate as they were now filthier than the ones I had thrown out. Once back at the hostel, we had no toiletries, towels, or change of clothes and we were nearing a full week without completely cleaning ourselves (there is always time for a rinse of the key areas). In Uganda I shaved for the 3rd time in 6 weeks, but on a busride my shaving cream exploded and after another 2 + weeks by beard was full. We epitomize dirt and dirt epitomizes us.

Our first day back in Moshi was supposed to be an office day but we decided to use it to stock up on souvenirs. Shopping in Moshi can actually be quite fun when you are interested in looking around/bartering and we picked up quite a few cool knick knacks for family and friends. Shopping in Moshi is hilarious. If a shopkeeper doesn’t have what you want he will run up the street to another shop that has it and bring it back. If the size is wrong, he will repeat the same. This has less to do with good service than wanting to get in on the highly coveted Mzungu commission which he is sure to miss out on if we find the product on our own. Unfortunately for most of the shopkeepers, we aren’t fresh off the boat anymore and having spent 2 months interviewing small business owners we know the actual Tanzanian price. We got almost everything for around 25% of the actual offered price. One good (and cheap) gift I picked up for a friend was an Arnold Swarzeneggar movie collection (63 Arnold Movies – many doubles – on 1 DVD). People walk around the streets of Moshi with 3 foot stacks of caseless DVD collections of new and old releases selling massive film collections for only $4. I don’t mind spoiling that gift because I’m fairly sure Colby MacIntyre will never read this blog as long as he lives. The rest of you will have to wait.

Our office day eventually led us to the internet café where we tried to catch up on e-mails and 2 weeks of world news. Checking my bank account I was very shocked to see that $225 had been debited from my account from an ATM transaction in which I had received no cash. I spent the rest of my day running back and forth between phoning my bank in Dublin and trying to sort out luggage with Precision Air. Noticing my frantic hustle, one elderly gentleman struck up a conversation with me. When he found out I was from Canada he told me he had been to Montreal once in 1976. When I asked him what for he told me he had boxed for Tanzania in the Olympics. Then he mistakenly took my attempt at a handshake as a request to start boxing my palm and threw a sequence of rights and lefts. He went on to tell me he was off to Italy in a week or so to study for his PHD in economics and we quickly discussed some of Tanzania’s first presidents economic policies. I could tell by the smell of beer on his breath that he liked to have the odd drink so I took down his number with the promise of grabbing a beer sometime and hearing some more good stories. On parting I asked him how he did in the Olympics, which he replied he won the gold medal. I went back to the internet café and looked up his name and when I received no hits, I googled Tanzania Montreal Olympics. Turns out Tanzania (along with almost every other African country) boycotted those Olympics and refused to participate. Despite his bullshit I was still tempted to go for a beer with him. Finally, I was eventually able to sort out my bank problem; Permanent TSB will put the money back in my account without investigation and if for some reason the Tanzanian bank disputes the matter they will take it back out. This was a level of efficiency which I was not used to and was quite shocking. I feel I will not be able to adapt to the normalcy of the western world when I return.

The next day was our first day back at WODEF. Katie had a bit of an upset stomach and flaked out, leaving me to visit the village by myself. She missed out on what might be one of the best WODEF days of all time. When we got to the village the WODEF group introduced me to some women working in the vocational training program. They had baked me a delicious cake and we sat and chatted over a tea for some bit. Then it was off to visit a few projects in the local market and beyond.

After visiting the usual projects (chicken, tailoring, and vegetable stand) we headed off for something a little different. Visit to not one but two Masai villages! The first village sang a song and gave me a traditional Masai neck circle bead thing and a necklace. Not to be outdone, the next village had a little ceremony for us and gave me a beaded Masai chief/elder’s stick. They thanked me for the work I had been doing for Widows, Orphans, and Disabled and told me I was now one of them and welcome in the Masai village at anytime. It was one of the nicest presentations I’ve received to date. Then they proceeded to shower our entourage with bracelets, necklaces, and anything else. After the presentation we sat and talked to some of the village elders about the little projects they run. I always enjoy visiting Masai villages because they have almost completely maintained all of their old traditions and have no western comforts. There are different mudhuts with thatched roofs for males, women and kids. Children still have ears stretched for ear rings, cheeks burnt to keep out mosquitoes, and men take on many many wives and have many more children (One of the guards at our hostel has 72 half brothers and sisters!). Then they either raise cattle or farm on their massive plains of land. It was definitely one of my favorite days at WODEF and a highlight of the trip.

I know Katie wants to write further in depth about our last day at WODEF but I suppose I may as well add my thoughts about 2 months spent volunteering. Some of the best days of my life were at WODEF but also some of the most frustrating and annoying. They are very unorganized and seem to lack any real direction. As notifications of grants would roll in (grants which usually were for organizations with quite specific and different goals from WODEF’s) they would attempt to tailor-make new programs at the last minute to try and receive funding. They are quite young and it’s hard to know how much of this is growing pains and how much is just a leadership issue. I also think they may have grown too fast, with over 10,000 members in 4 regions of Tanzania. It makes it difficult to provide any real benefit to the members when a small head office is stretched extremely thin. The way we were handled at first was extremely annoying, we were given no real structure, no program, and it took almost one month to figure out a general idea of how WODEF worked. At times it felt like we were paraded around as the great white hope, rich Mzungus here to provide money for schools, projects, orphans, and anyone else who should so feel the need to want it.

On the positive side I think the seminars we taught are very beneficial and important. Most project-operators we met would say that lack of capital is the only problem facing their business when for many of these people they have no discernable goals or ideas for what to do with money if they were to receive it. If somebody in the town has a successful project many identical copycats open up right away. None of the projects have any discernable difference and owners will just compete on price harming the shopkeepers. One village almost everybody had a chicken project, radically reducing the price of chickens and eggs while almost everything else has to be imported from Moshi, Dar Es Salaam and Arusha with steep prices, most of the economic benefits leaving the town.

Accounting for most people is limited to purchasing your supplies at the beginning of the day and what is left over in your hand at the end of the day is your profit. One woman we met told us how she had the capacity to sell an extra bag of maize a week but didn’t have the funds to do it as she was a struggling single mother. Then she listed off her expenses which included extraordinarily high cell phone and hair dressing costs. We showed her that if she reduces here cell phone costs to 75% of current levels and hairdressing to half that in just over 2 months she could buy the extra bag of maize herself and increase her weekly profit from just $1 to $25. Who knows if she decided to make those changes. These are all main themes we tackled in our lectures. Some people came up afterwards and heartily thanked us, said they were rethinking their whole business. The people here are very smart, they just need to be exposed to some new ideas and move away from thinking of more money as a solution to their problems.

I feel we gained infinitively more personally volunteering then we could ever possibly put back into it. Unlike many pretentious volunteers I had no delusions of grandeur heading into this and was not expecting to save the world through my particular experience. What I received from WODEF was an insight into the day to day lives and problems of Tanzanians far greater than I could have gotten from anything else. The education translated into some of my own ideas for development, such as the incubator projects and the bulk of our entrepreneurship lectures. I hope I will be able to put a few more ideas to work in the future. Some of the things we have seen and done will take a while to sink in. Hopefully they will allow us to make a more direct and meaningful contribution in the future.

Many of the problems we experienced with WODEF we shared with them on our last day and made some recommendations going forward in the future. They listened attentively, thanked us for our input and support to building a better group but didn’t ask any follow up questions. I was left unsure whether our feedback was actually received or if us talking was just a one-way street.

The rest of the week was filled with dinners with colleagues, friends, and assorted random encounters. It flew by far quicker than we had hoped for and before we knew it, it was time for our last day in Moshi.

Rwanda – Land of a Thousand Hills

From the Border to Kigali

Rwanda unquestionably lives up to its nickname the “Land of a Thousand Hills.” Its scenery is extraordinary – virtually the entire landscape was transformed into hills as Jamie and I crossed the border. We made our way from Uganda and crossed the Rwandan border without much hassle (escaped a horde of money changes shoving wads of cash into our faces). We hired a taxi complete with complimentary bananas and after picking up a couple of hitch hikers, arrived in Kigali, Rwanda’s capital city.

We were dropped off in Kigali’s main bus terminal and hopped onto a boda, strapped on our helmets, and drove to Hotel Kigali (our lives didn’t flash before our eyes for a change!). Hotel Kigali was a comfortable (minus the cold water and missing toilet seat cover!) hotel run by locals, located on the edge of Kigali, overlooking the slums (densely populated with very poor housing units). We had nabbed a 2003 edition of Lonely Planet from the hostel library, which recommended many places to eat. Getting hungry, we took a taxi to Eden Garden for some local grub, but unfortunately the restaurant had since been replaced by a welding shop. This was a frequent occurrence so we ended up scrapping the guide book.

The next day we set out on a hunt for an ATM as we were running low on Rwandan Francs. Unbelievably, there are NO ATM’s in Rwanda!! We had to get cash advances from our Visas and Mastercard from the bank. After a cash injection, we set out to tour the city.

The Rwandan infrastructure and roads were top-notch. Kigali itself was a very nice and well-kept French-speaking city. Beggars were few and far between (the majority of beggars we encountered had missing limbs, particularly hands). Speed limits were followed, dalas enforced the maximum passenger rule and helmets were mandatory for boda boda rides, and there were crosswalks – how civilized!

We hopped on a bus tour around Kigali – although the tour was only us and one other goofy looking Belgian reporter. Our first stop was the school where the Belgian soldiers were executed during the 1994 genocide by the Hutu extremists (guaranteeing a withdrawal of the Belgian contingent). Nine of the young men were executed inside the building while one soldier was shot outside after attempting escape. There was a beautiful memorial on the property dedicated to these soldiers. Inside the school was also a memorial site as well as a small, informative genocide museum.

We visited the Hutu power station where RLTM broadcast vitriolic propaganda against Tutsis and Hutu moderates. We then visited the National Genocide Museum which was built by the Rwandan government and is home to a mass grave of 256,000 Tutsis (and Hutu dissenters) that were killed during the 1994 genocide. The museum is absolutely beautiful. Words can’t express the feelings while walking through the museum and grounds.

Next stop was the real Hotel Rwanda (from the film), located in the heart of the Kigali city centre. We were informed that this film portrayed portrayed Paul Rusesabagina (Done Cheadle), the manager of Sabena Hotel des Mill Collines, in an incorrect light. Mr. Rusesabagina did in fact house his wife and family members (the numbers in the film greatly inflated the actual number), but many of them were charged a hefty price for this service.

We also visited some of the newer and nicer districts of Kigali. One area was called the “Bel-Air of Kigali” and definitely lives up to its name with houses that would make some of the wealthiest Canadians blush – golf courses and tennis courts for locals included. We then went through a planned low-income housing development the government is building for people living in the slums. They have already started moving families out of poorer areas into big houses in a very nice part of town for no cost to the locals. In many ways in Rwanda there is a sense that the government is actually committed to providing tangible services to people and improving lives which is absent in Uganda and particularly Tanzania.

After the grand tour, Jamie and I headed on a mad hunt for Ethiopian food. After a wild goose chase of a taxi ride we finally landed at the perfect little Ethiopian restaurant. We walked in to blaring country western music and the most delicious aroma. Ethiopian food is the pinnacle of African culinary achievements. You are served a huge flat piece of sour bread (close to the size of the table) on which we had 7 or 8 different dips of varying spice (including goat ribs, goat, spinach, pork, chick peas, chicken). You break off little pieces of the bread, roll your food up into it and eat. The meal was absolutely incredible and afterwards we chatted with a very funny Ethiopian employee while we waited for our taxi. After an hour, there was no sign of our taxi so we set off to the nearest dala stand with another employee who happened to be a ridiculously giddy and chatty, aspiring reggae musician. He was on a mission to find us the cheapest possible means of transport possible. He scored us a very cheap dala ride and was overjoyed by his accomplishment.

Butare – The Intellectual Capital of Rwanda

The next morning we headed south to Butare, the intellectual capital of Rwanda. Butare is a nice little dusty town home to very friendly locals. We found a little hostel off the main town road run by locals which was perfect for the night (check out the security system!).

Our first stop was the National Museum of Rwanda, which was a gift from the Belgians to commemorate 25 years of independence. The museum was very nice and informative of Rwandan history.

The following day we had plans to visit Gikongoro, a small town close to Butare, with one of Rwanda’s larger genocide museums. Jamie and I researched the museum beforehand and had mixed emotions about visiting the museum (it is home to thousands of preserved Tutsi bodies on display). We both agreed that we did not feel up to seeing this so we opted for some souvenir shopping, grabbed an ice cream and headed back to Kigali to move onwards to Kibuye.

Beautiful Lake Kibo

The bus ride to Kibuye was incredible. The scenery was stunning as we ascended and descended to varying altitudes through the hills. As we drove down the mountain and caught our first glimpse of Lake Kibo it took our breath away. The calm lake was cradled by mountains galore, views of the Congo in the distance. We pulled into the local bus stop and hopped on bodas to the Bethanie Hotel. We arrived at the hotel, a little piece of heaven, located just meters from the lakeside and we were in luck - there was one room left.

The only thing on the agenda for the next day was laziness. We spent the day relaxing and reading in the sun. I went for a dip in the lake while Jamie sat on the shore with his feet dangling in the water and read. It was so refreshing to be in the water that I stayed in for 3 hours. Jamie took a few photos and met a lovely local couple of newly weds and chatted with them until I was out. My hands looked like prunes which amused our new friends.

Our game plan was to drive from Rwanda to Mwanza, a town in Western Tanzania, and then fly to Kilimamjaro airport from there rather than take the bus back through Uganda and Kenya. We would have to travel from Kigali to Rusomo, a small border town in Rwanda and then enter Tanzania. We had expected this journey to take approximately 1 night and 2 days.

The Long Road Back to Moshi

The next morning we headed to the bus stop to catch a lift into Kigali. We had a 2 hour delay so we sat in a local café and had a Fanta while we watched the hustle and bustle of the little town.

We pulled into Kigali just in time to miss our bus to Rusomo so we were stuck in Kigali for the night. We checked into a nice nearby hotel, had some supper, watched some movies and headed to bed.

6AM the next morning we found ourselves jammed back into another dala headed for the Tanzanian border. 5 hours later we arrived in Rusomo and crossed the border (walking over the Rusomo Falls) back onto Tanzanian soil. We instantly changed back to speaking Swahili and moments after crossing the border were greeted with a “jambo” - it felt good to be back.

After getting our Tanzanian Visas, we jumped in a taxi and headed to Benako (a little town with the closest bus station) where we would catch a bus to Mwanza. We arrived in Benako in time to find out there were no busses to Mwanza until tomorrow. Plan B was to take a bus to the next town Kahama where we could get a bus to Mwanza. After milk tea and a chapati, we were ready to roll.

The drive to Kahama was awesome – North Western Tanzania has much different scenery than we are used to in the Kilimanjaro and Northern Region. The land was very dry and desert-like. There appeared to be very few watering holes and the ones we saw were full of locals bathing and collecting water. The vegetation was also completely different – there were lots baobab trees and cattle far outnumbered crops. There seemed to be storks everywhere (the most disgusting, dirty, prehistoric-looking birds on the planet).

After several pit stops into villages along the way we arrived in dirty little Kahama to a giant mob at the bus station. This was by far the most intimidating crowd that we have experienced to-date. A huge shouting mob grabbed our bags and took us into one booking office. Offering us only Mzungu prices, we told the guy we would think about it and come the next day. On the way out of the bus park we bumped into another man who was offering us the same tickets for half the price. They offered to show us to a guest house but when we arrived it had many drunk men in the office, no electricity, or service to be found. We politely declined and proceeded to the nearest hostel which was not a recipe for a robbery. Our room there was lit by Christmas lights and looked like something out of the red light district, but it would do.

The next morning we ended up booking with the cheaper bus alternative. While we were waiting inside the little booking office we heard some commotion outside. The man that we first discussed tickets with was very drunk (at 7:30 am) and very angry that we didn’t do business with him. He went on a drunken rant about us outside with his friends and then came into the booking office. With broken English he expressed his anger. He told us that he was Somali (we both just finished reading a book about Somalia which characterizes Somalis as being violent and ill-tempered) and then proceeded to ramble about his life story, seeming to forget his anger. We made it onto our bus in one piece and headed to Mwanza.

The bus ride was bumpy and slow. It had a horn that sounded like it was straight out of the circus and it almost tipped over on one of the dirt roads. Two of the little boys behind me tapped me on the shoulder to strike up a nice little conversation and then wrapped it up by asking me for 1000 TSH. Classic Tanzanian bus ride.

As we approached Mwanza, the landscape changed again. Giant boulders started speckling the landscape. This was perhaps because we were approaching Lake Victoria (second biggest lake in the world to Canada’s Lake Superior – in your face Tanzania). Mwanza is a coastal town located on the lake and is a nice bustling little town. When we arrived in Mwanza we headed to PrecisionAir to book our flights. We missed the last flight for that day and flights were booked to Kilimanjaro for the following day. Jamie and I then headed to find a hotel, do some wandering and grab some chicken and chips and beers.

We stopped into PrecisionAir the next morning in hopes of flight cancellations for that day. Believe it or not, we were in luck. After packing we headed to the airport which turned out to be a hilariously tiny little building. We checked ourselves through security and chilled in the lounge with a few beers. Our flight was delayed and as we boarded the flight attendant added “it is too hot out. Your luggage won’t be on this plane.” We weren’t surprised. The plane was a propeller plane and very small. We were served a snack box containing apples and hot dogs. I thought we might die.

We made it back to Moshi in one piece and were greeted by our pals at the hostel. I sat down on the lawn in the backyard to tell stories and sat on a safari ant nest (see pic) – the pinching ants ran up the back of my shirt and down the back of my pants. That night I had a very itchy back and bottom. That night we also adopted a baby salamander who was attacked by a bigger salamander – we made him a little home in our room. He escaped or was eaten during the night.

A bit of an after note about our luggage - It was supposed to arrive the next day at 2 o’clock. At 2 o’clock Jamie showed up at the Precision Air office and surprise surprise – no luggage! They told him flights from Mwanza land at 3 and the shuttle will drop any luggage off at 4. At 4:30 he went back and was told that the luggage had arrived but the shuttle driver hadn’t wanted to wait for it so it was left at the airport. They assured us that it would be on the first shuttle tomorrow, set to arrive at 10 am. About an hour later the airport called Jamie and told him to come out the airport because it was easier than sending the luggage to Moshi. He told them that the hour long trip to the airport around dinner time was certainly not easier for him and to send it in the morning to Moshi. By 4 PM the next day the luggage finally arrived. We opened out our bag at home eager to change our clothes for the first time in almost a week to find that some of our clothes had been stolen from the bag. Ashante Sana PrecisionAir.

Travels to Uganda

On the Road to Uganda

Clothes? Check. Snacks? Check. Pizza for the road? Check. Jamie and I were ready for the 22 hour bus ride to Uganda. After a farewell lunch at one of our regular local joints, we headed to the bus station where we were met by the GZA who was waiting to say goodbye to his favorite mzungus. After a 1 hour delay, we hopped on the bus and headed for the Kenyan border. I thoroughly enjoy the scenery we get to take in during these long journeys. The views from Northern Tanzania into Kenya were stunning with vast plains and amazing mountains, Massai leading cattle for miles. The ride was bumpy to say the least, but that and the bone chilling night are our only complaints. We crossed the Kenyan border after dark – this was my first border crossing via foot and it was a tad frightening, but exciting. As we walked across we were followed by elderly Massai women desperate to sell us their jewelry – it was almost spooky how they loomed over us dangling necklaces in our faces as we walked through the dark street. Before we knew it, we were back on the bus and in Kenyan territory. A few hours later we made a brief pitstop in Nairobi and rolled through the night towards Uganda. We were seriously underdressed and the bus was freezing (thankfully I had my wool socks in my bag – thanks Karen!).

Exploring Kampala

Early afternoon the next day we entered Kampala, Uganda’s capital city. The outskirts of the city vaguely resembled the outskirts of Dar Es Salaam, but were not quite as run down as Dar’s slums. Many of the homes had tin roofs vs. the grass roofs commonly seen in Tanzania.

Upon pulling into the Kampala bus station, Tony (the tour operator assisting us with obtaining our gorilla permits) was there to pick us up. We headed to his house / office and made plans to meet the next day to pick up our passes at the Uganda Wildlife Association office. We were then dropped off at the Red Chili Hideaway hostel where we grabbed a couple of beers and watched the monkeys play in our backyard.

Monkeys in our backyard at the hostel

The next day it was exploration time – we headed into Kampala and wandered the streets. We hit up the local market and tried grasshoppers (a popular snack item in Uganda) for the first time. I can describe them as being crunchy, greasy, and probably good with a bit of salt. We observed that the city is a lot more modern than the cities that we have visited in Tanzania. The infrastructure is more contemporary and the people even appear to be more modern – the women wear pants vs. the traditional kanga or long skirts that virtually all women wear in Tanzania. Also, in Tanzania there are mass amounts of 2^nd hand clothes which we noticed are probably 75% Canadian. Did we mention that during our first week of volunteering we were visiting projects in a very remote village and we met a man that was wearing a Prince Edward Island tourism polo – small world.

The city has done an exceptional job getting back on its feet since the Amin days. However, there were a staggering number of child beggars in the streets. Another problem in Uganda is “cross-generational relationships” in which older men date especially young girls – there are large billboards scattered throughout the city condoning the act.

Streets of Kampala

That afternoon we picked up our highly anticipated gorilla tracking permits and Tony and his side kick took us to their favorite local restaurant for some Ugandan food. They were entertaining us with safari stories and started discussing safari experiences with different nationalities. We got a kick out of when they described the Germans as being very “complicated” people to safari with and told us that once a German group had brought their GPS and were quite concerned when they ventured off the predetermined route.

We took our first Boda Boda rides (motorcycles used for public transport) through the city. We are still alive. Once again, enough said. We wrapped up a day of exploring the city and headed back to the hostel to rest of for a day of white water rafting on the Nile.

White Water Rafting on the Nile

Rise and shine – it was time for white water rafting on the Nile (the source of the Nile is located in Jinja, Uganda). It is notorious as being home to some of the best rapids in the world. We had some breakfast and jumped onto the bus Jinja-bound. When we arrived, we had a quick pep talk, met our guide, got geared up (rain coat, life jacket, paddle and helmet) and headed excitedly to our raft.

We had 9 passengers on our raft including our guide. The morning began with a few lessons on paddling, falling overboard, flipping, etc. We learned that the rapids are classed from a grade 1 to grade 5 (commercial rafting companies aren’t allowed to do grade 6 rapids). We would be going over 6 large rapids ranging from grade 3 to grade 5.

In the morning conquered 3 rapids, one of them being the largest rapid, “big brother.” We were on a roll until we hit big brother – our raft did a nose dive into the rapids and our boat bent in half. The passengers sitting on the left hand side (the side which I happened to be sitting on) bounced and were then thrown out of the boat. This happened before we went over the 3 major waves so it was quite a battle. We were all scooped up by the safety boat and put back into our raft in time for some leisurely floating down the river for lunch.

After lunch we did some more floating and had a chance to jump in for a swim. Somewhere in between lunch and before going over a class 5 waterfall, I couldn’t turn my neck to my right hand side or move it downwards. Luckily we had a nurse on board who diagnosed me with probably a pulled muscle in my neck (probably from being whip lashed by big brother). So it was the safety boat for me. The Ugandan rowing the safety boat had superhuman strength and we were all in awe of him. It was amazing to see him work and at one point, all 3 of our rafts were tied to his as he paddled us up the river so we could relax. We chatted and went over the lower grade rapids which were still unreal. Then came the last rapid that is almost guaranteed to flip. I watched from the safety boat and yes, they flipped! The power of the rapids are out of this world. I watched for Jamie’s little red helmet to pop out from under the water and then let out a little sigh of relief. We then headed to shore (along the way spotting a 2 foot long neon green iguana) and headed back to Moshi with a bus load of cold beers. A photographer rafted with us for the duration of the day to capture all of our best moments. P.S – there are crocodiles found in the calm parts of the Nile that we rafted through!

A Little Piece of Heaven Called Lake Bunyoni

It was time to move south to Lake Bunyoni. We took a taxi ride in probably the most congested traffic on the planet. As usual, the instant we stepped out of the taxi at the bus station, we were surrounded, our bags grabbed, and pulled towards the busses going to our destination. Anxious to get going, we bought bus tickets for the first bus heading to Kabale (8km from Lake Bunyoni). To our dismay, when we stepped onto the bus, we were the only ones on it. 4 hours later, after the very LAST seat was filled, we took off for Kabale.

As per usual, the scenery was amazing and the trip flew by. It is very interesting to watch the people going about their day as you pass by – men (and very often small boys no older than 5) tending to and herding cattle, children playing (very young children usually naked) in the dusty yards, women weaving baskets and shelling peas, people napping in the shade in their yards and so on.

We arrived in Kabale at 10PM (much later than planned) with no plan of action. The city was very dark, dusty and there wasn’t a taxi in sight. It looked like the city (with the exception of the men drinking outside and in the pubs and a few flickering candles) was fast asleep. As we got off the bus, a man approached us and advised us we would need a special hire to take us to the Lake as the roads are treacherous. He conveniently had a friend waiting outside who even more conveniently had a brother that was working at the hotel that we had in mind. They agreed to give us a lift. There is no way in hell that I would agree to this in any other circumstance at home, but here in Africa, sometimes you just have to go with the flow and forget that gut feeling. After a 30 minute, very rough ride along the road’s windy edge, we reached the hotel (hallelujah!).

The next day we woke up to one absolutely gorgeous view of the lake just beneath us which we couldn’t see the night before in the dark.

View of Lake Bunyoni from our canoe

Jamie suggested we use this occasion to celebrate our 1 year (and a bit) anniversary. We spent the morning in a canoe ride around the lake and visited some of its islands. One notable island is called “punishment island” – girls that became pregnant before they were married used to be cast away to this island to either starve or drown trying to reach the main land. Another island was used as a leper colony (leprosy is a very common and extremely heartbreaking problem in Tanzania and there are lepers lining one particular street here in Moshi). We spent the remainder of the day relaxing, reading and playing pool (Jamie was determined to redeem himself after his defeat on our 1^st date)

The Bumpy Ride to Buhoma

Once again, we made another awful travel mistake. We took a cab into Kabale and eagerly accepted an offer for a 20,000 shilling ride in the back of a local’s pickup truck. We foolishly refused to take the front seat – we wanted to sit with the Ugandans in the back (why not? It was only 120km to Buhoma – it would be fun!). The first 30 minutes were pretty amusing. The locals were shocked to see 2 mzungos in the back of a pickup truck. It didn’t take long before the cool breeze turned into a cloud of dust filling our eyes and mouths, for the novelty of the amusing stares to wear off and for the back of the truck to hold 5 to 15 people. We stopped in every town for potato pickups which took up the rest of the space on the truck. The roads were unbelievable (if you can call them roads). In two of the villages we encountered some daunting drunken locals. One woman came up to us to ask for money and then kept asking me to take a picture of her (you have to be careful when taking pictures of people in Africa or you could end up footing a bill). She was quite persistent and mildly aggressive. I was pleased to pull away from the village as she picked up her machete. The drunken man in the 2^nd village was quite the same and kept touching us, this time our companions in the back had finally taken a shine to us and threatened the man who left us alone. We were halfway to Buhoma and I wanted OFF that truck!

Another 3 hours later we arrived in Buhoma with very sore bottoms and gritty teeth. We moved into our little banda hut and joined a lovely Canadian couple for supper. We also indulged in our first hot showers in 2 months. It was then time to get some sleep and dream of gorillas!

It’s Gorilla Tracking Time then Moving on to Rwanda

It was 7:00AM and we were ready to track down some gorillas. We were assigned to the “R” group and broke into our group of 6. Obed, our guide, gave us the lowdown on the rules, and we ventured with him and several armed guards into the jungle. Trackers entered the jungle before us and started the hunt for the gorillas. Once located, they alerted us as to their location. Our gorillas had only moved several miles from their location the previous day (lucky as some days they can move much further).

We macheted our way off the beaten track until 1.5 hours later we came upon our magnificent gorillas. We first spotted a baby dangling from a tree, eating. He was almost doing the splits with one knee forward and the other knee behind him, each pushing against a tree, propping him up, (priceless posture) allowing him to eat with his two free hands. We then visited a breastfeeding mother with a small male lazing around beside them.

Mother gorilla nursing

Then came the moment we had all been waiting for: through the thick of the jungle we spotted the king of the jungle - a striking, astonishingly large, silverback gorilla. The silverback’s back turn silver with age and these large males are the protectors of their families.

Tragically, these gorillas are highly endangered (they make valuable, prized souvenirs) and can only be found in the hills of the Congo, Rwanda and Uganda. Each year thousands of poaching traps are removed from these parks. I was quite shocked that poaching was still such a crisis.

The silverback quickly moved on and we weren’t far behind. We pressed forward, slashing our way through the jungle, and stumbled upon the family. The silverback lay on his back in a very relaxing-looking fashion, while scratching his giant chest and belly and releasing boisterous farts. Surrounding the silverback were smaller males and females and one very active and endearing baby playing who frolicked among the group. Off to the side of us were two smaller males that seemed to be completely immersed in eating. Jamie and I were approximately 2 meters from them and they were not giving us the time of day.

Meanwhile the adults of the large group eyed us from time to time, but didn’t seem very interested in us bystanders. However, the baby seemed to almost have the courage (or curiosity) to approach us. He came halfway and then scurried back to his mother (perhaps he had been scolded about approaching these visitors at some point by her).

The baby of the family

We were about 3 meters away from the family, with some vines separating us. It is very common for a mother or silverback to charge while doing the tour, to establish their territory and we were a bit disappointed that we didn’t get to experience this. Visitors are limited to 1 hour with the gorillas and only 1 visit is permitted per day (this is to minimize the animal’s stress and exposure to disease). This was easily the quickest hour of my life. We then tracked back to our banda hut and relaxed for the remainder of the day. That night Jamie and I both came down with wicked colds and Jamie spent the night in and out of a delirious fever.

The next morning we were greeted at our door by a tarantula and then by breakfast.

We did a quick tour of the tiny village of Buhoma and picked up the odd souvenir. We joined 2 French lads in a taxi ride to the Rwandan border and were in for another ridiculous road trip. The taxi driver drove his little car although nothing other than a 4x4 should EVER attempt these roads. In total, we had to empty out of the car four times to give it a push over a bump or out of a hole. I cringed the entire time as the bottom of the car was being destroyed. The plus side of the trip was once again the stunning views - hills with farms and villages and also a large, beautiful volcano. We pulled up to the Rwandan border and waved goodbye to Uganda.