beach days and cows

We left our spoon-fed tours behind and continued on our itinerary with a flight to Zanzibar. I've never done so many inter-regional flights on a trip before but we had been forced to fly instead of go overland because of time constraints. Another indication of how Africa is not very backpacker friendly: long distances with slow buses. So instead of a 24 hour marathon to get to Zanzibar by bus and ferry, we did the 1 hour flight for brevity. Our flight was delayed 3 hours but it still beat a full day on a bus.

Our introduction to Zanzibar was jarring. We were driving from Zanzibar Town (also called Stone Town) to our planned beach holiday on the eastern side of the island at Matemwe Beach. Our taxi driver was a jovial and talkative fellow who went by the name Mr. Jomba Jomba. It was sunny. Palm trees were swaying. We'd caught our first glimpse of the turquoise waters of the Indian Ocean. Paradise. Bliss. And then we hit a cow.

Yep. A cow. Jumped out into the road and Mr. Jomba Jomba hit the brakes. Tires squealed and we were greeted to a Zanzibari thud as the cow hit the front of the car. Dust flew everywhere. Marya and I had been thrown forward but no injuries. The front of the car was pretty crumpled and the cow lay on the road, struggling to breath. A small crowd gathered around the car. Mr. Jomba Jomba was shaking. It was a fairly traumatic introduction to the island and we were very lucky that the car did not spin or flip or that the cow did not come up through the windshield. All in all it was an experience I would not wish to repeat. And it made me thankful that cows are kept in fields constrained by fences in Canada. Unfortunately the cow was killed to put it out of its misery. I felt so bad for the cow owner because cows are such an important investment in Africa and to lose one could be devastating. I also felt bad for our driver since his taxi is his livelihood. The car was still running and we were, of course, only a few minutes from Matemwe. The car managed to limp into town.

Underwater safari

After a lengthy search for a hotel which included me hiking an hour and a half in the midday equatorial sun, we finally arrived at Seles Bungalows. The bungalows are beautiful and there's a chill restaurant which serves some of the most incredible food I've ever eaten. Reasonable price (for Africa) and way, way better than our original accommodation plans: the overpriced dump known as Ally Keys Bungalows. Overpriced, mildew-laden thatched huts with unbearably large spider webs and a concrete cave called a bathroom with a shower head over the toilet. If you ever plan a vacation to Zanzibar, avoid Ally Keys Bungalows.

Now we were in paradise. Remote, white sand beaches and palm trees lining a turquoise ocean. This is the stuff post cards are made of. I didn't even think places like this existed anymore. I thought any stretch of white sand this nice would've long ago been engulfed by Mexican-style high rises and resorts.

Our main reason for being here, beyond doing mandatory sun-laying and surf-splashing, was to attempt to do our PADI scuba diving course to become certified to scuba dive anywhere. Based on my awful experiences snorkelling I was pretty nervous. But using scuba equipment the last four days, I will say that scuba diving is about a thousand times better than snorkelling (Mom, even you could do it, though you say you can't snorkel!). I hate snorkelling primarily because water always splashes into your tube and you end up choking and hacking after inhaling salt water. Its also tough because you are forced to swim on the surface, battling waves that constantly dunk you under the water and push you everywhere. You end up wasting so much time battling waves and currents that you can't enjoy the fish party beneath your feet. Scuba diving eliminates both these problems. First, you can breathe all the time and never have to worry about water rushing into your tube. I was skeptical at first of this "regulator" contraption that supposedly allowed you to breathe underwater. But over the course of four days, the small black mouthpiece slowly earned my trust. Second, you go below the chaos of the surface into a much calmer and serene world below. A serene world full of hustle and bustle. So many fish! So much life beneath the waves! I'm totally clueless about fish and underwater life because Calgary was not a place to grow up learning about coral reefs. Looking around in the water, I'm sure I saw more species of fish in 4 minutes than all those animals I listed that I saw on my safari in 4 days. It truly is a fish party. It looked like a reef straight out of Finding Nemo.

Breathing underwater made me feel invincible in the water because, let's face it, the main problem people have with swimming is that they can't breathe with water in their lungs. They have to struggle to stay afloat to reach that sweet, sweet oxygen on the surface. This limitation of mere mortals is eliminated upon donning scuba gear! You don't even need to TRY to stay afloat any longer! Just breathe and waves, splashing, bad weather and your friend dunking you are no longer concerns....assuming you have air in your tank.

One aspect of scuba diving that I never considered before was the experience of weightlessness in water. It's probably the most challenging aspect (because, if everything is functioning properly, then the only other skill you need is...breathing). Trying to stay weightless is hard because you constantly fill your lungs with air and then start floating away or you exhale and then drop like a stone. It's also hard because everything in water has such a huge delay that you need to start deciding if you're going to run into that piece of coral way earlier than you would on land. This is made more difficult because things appear 30% larger underwater, thus throwing off your depth perception and making you look drunk and foolish. Despite the challenges and initial fears, we completed our PADI Open Water training and are now certified to dive up to 18 meters depth!


In a week, I'll be boarding a flight in Nairobi to go back to a familiar world: Canada. Home. It feels like I've been gone a long time. Long enough that, while not homesick per se, Marya and I definitely have a list of things we want to do and will appreciate when we get home (most of them involve food haha). And, as undoubtedly happens as you near the end of a trip, thoughts of home come back to mind. And, at this time, certain things are calling me back home more than usual. It's raining here today, somewhat fitting for the events back home.

It has been a wonderful and amazing trip that has been so long and with such varied experiences that I don't think I have as yet fully digested the whole set of sights, smells, sounds, tastes and feelings. East Africa is certainly a region of the world that I hope to visit again. So many of my irrational fears about Sub-Saharan Africa were completely unfounded. Problems abound as I've talked about in great depth and experienced first hand volunteering for Ainembabazi, but that certainly wouldn't stop me from visiting.


Thanks for reading.

phase two: uhuru and ngorongoro

I will be back in Canada in less than one week! The time spent here in East Africa has flown by, as usually happens with trips. Our trip has clearly been divided into two very different sets of experiences. Our time living and traveling in Uganda and Rwanda felt like a very rich and rewarding cultural experience where we lived like "locals". We ate local food and took local transport and had many eye-opening conversations with doctors, teachers and random strangers, all who call Uganda home. I became accustomed to local quirks like the subtle wave of your hand to call a cab or the casual method of jay-walking even if a car is barreling towards you. Even after we had left Mbarara, our time spent traveling in southwestern Uganda and Rwanda still felt decidedly "local": hitchhiking, taking local minibuses (called matatus), staying in local churches, and even getting tours of the local Rwandan hospitals. We felt like we were well off the tourist trail and even kind of got used to everyone staring at us. They stared as if we were wearing a giant clown costume. So "local" remains firmly in quotes because throughout the experience, we were still wholeheartedly foreigners worthy of a stare-down.

After stepping onto a plane in Kigali and flying to Arusha, Tanzania, we entered a world of pure and uninhibited tourism. Our plans in Tanzania first began with a 6-day trek up Kilimanjaro, followed by a 4-day Serengeti safari and then capped off with a beach holiday on Zanzibar. This is the quintessential Tanzanian itinerary and the reasons are clear: climb the highest mountain in Africa for bragging rights, see lions and elephants while singing "Circle of Life" and then relax on beautiful white sand beaches with a cold drink. It's the classic tourist trail and if you ever come to Tanzania, I highly recommend the itinerary, even if it is cliché.

Marya and I were so proud of backpacking a wee bit when in Uganda and Rwanda but that stopped when we got off the flight at Arusha. From then on we were spoon-fed like children by a tour company called BaseCamp. The travel forums said it was hard to backpack Africa and it's very true; if you want to climb Kilimanjaro you are required to go with a guide and arrange your own transport to the mountain because no public transport goes there; if you want to go on a safari, you need special permits and your own vehicle. BaseCamp was our lazy man's solution. I've never been on a multi-day tour such as this one. I've never been picked up from an airport by anyone other than family. So it was strange (and admittedly wonderful) to be like a child once again and let someone else arrange your food, accommodations and transport.

The tallest man in Africa

First on our spoon-fed itinerary was to ascend to the lofty heights of 5895-meter Kilimanjaro. The itinerary was spoon-fed but the trekking was certainly not. However, if you ever feel compelled to drag yourself up to the places where the frigid wind never stops and the air is all like, "I'm too cool to be up here so I'll just thin myself out", then I would recommend BaseCamp as a tour operator. Midrange prices, but so worth it! As a disclaimer, our amazement with the company may have been because of our exceedingly low expectations after bad experiences with other treks and tour companies in South America. For the trek, we were joined by Chris and Joel once again after they had done their own thing in Rwanda following the end of their medical elective in Mbarara. Marya and I had told them some horror stories of our near-death ascent of 6088-meter Huayna Potosi in Bolivia, so we were preparing for the worst. Because of this, we had also opted to take the Marangu Route up the mountain which was purportedly the easiest. As an extra caution, we even included an extra acclimatization day at 3700 meters to try to maximize our chances of successfully standing on Uhuru Peak, the highest apex of Kili.

I don't for a minute want to make the trek sound easy...BUT, the first 4 days of the hike are relatively easy. The path is wide and clear and almost always a very gradual incline along rolling hills and valleys. Furthermore, if you're climbing Marangu, you get to sleep in private, wood huts for the first 3 nights. Marya and I were expecting shared shacks with tin roofs and thin air mattresses but the huts were quite nice and the mattresses were so thick that we all slept like babies on the mountain. Flush toilets and even (ice cold) showers (which we never used). There was a big communal dining hall and our cook was a legend. If you want amazing, delicious food for a whole week, maybe you should climb Kilimanjaro. We were so well-fed that I'm pretty sure I gained weight on the trip which, for those that know me, should be a physical impossibility of the universe. This is a trek that can theoretically be done by anyone; one woman was doing it on her own as her 60th birthday present to herself. We saw another group of women who looked well beyond 70 although we never confirmed their age and maybe they'd just failed at anti-aging techniques.

Okay, now that I've spent the last paragraph making the trek sound easy lets follow up with some ugly facts. Firstly, it's cold. Even by the second night, the nights are chilly and by the time you get to the 4700-meter Kibo Huts (the last sleep before summit day) you're in long johns and thick jackets even at midday. Secondly, summit day is hell. The first 4 days are RELATIVELY easy, while still tiring and dusty. The 5th day is hell. You go from 4700 m to 5895 m, a 1200-meter gain. You climb at night. We woke up at 11:30 pm and, in a fog, we threw on our 6 layers of clothing and ate a small "breakfast". The ascent to summit first begins with a gruelling four hours of switchbacks up a steep scree slope. This is followed by a psychologically gruelling two hours along a freezing, wind-blown ridge which contains several false summits that destroy all remaining hope in your soul. Thirdly, it's really bloody cold. Did I mention that already? I'm pretty sure I would've lost fingers to frostbite if Joel hadn't had extra finger-warmers. The frigid wind along the final ridge is numbing and makes you lose all sense of sound and feeling. Fourthly, the air is really thin. I was getting bouts of nausea from altitude sickness as far down as Kibo Huts. Shockingly, I didn't vomit as I think my body realized that vomiting would only be a waste of precious energy that detracted from energy that could be used to gasp for air. By the summit, I think all of us had mild headaches and I was definitely mildly delirious which may have been due to altitude but more likely due to lack of sleep. I was in a fog as I reached the summit. I thought we had lost Chris and Joel and our guide. I said hello to someone, thinking they were Joel but they were actually some random stranger.  We were walking so slow, possibly slower than a literal snail, simply because we could not get enough oxygen to our muscles to move faster. Marya and I managed to will each other onward up the ridge towards to the summit.

Okay, now that I've spend the last paragraph making the trek sound so hellish that no one would ever willingly think to climb the mountain, let me say first of all that we all made it! It's a battle and a challenge but we did it! I stood up there for a few brief moments as the tallest man in Africa. We also had a beautiful, clear night with a moon so bright that we didn't even have to use headlamps for most of the ascent as we climbed through the night. And a clear night was capped off with a gorgeous sunrise high above the clouds. It's 6 hours of hell but you get a 5895-meter sunrise at the top plus 6 full days (minus 6 hours) of good times and easy trekking. Plus, you get to go DOWN after summiting.

Memorable moments of the descent were when we were motoring down the ridge, flying at breakneck speed compared to our snail pace on the way up; we came to a slight uphill along the ridge and all four us attempted to continue at our breakneck speed up this imperceptible uphill section. It left Joel collapsed on a rock, Marya doubled over gasping for air and me with fresh waves of nausea washing over me. It was a quick reminder that, even though we'd summited, we were still well above 5000-meters and had to go slowly! Even on the most insignificant-looking positive grade. The second memorable moment was that scree slope I mentioned earlier. On the way up it was a hellish set of unending switchbacks. On the way down, it was a fantastic scree run! Bounding down Kili through soft scree was a great way to spend a morning. We lost almost 1000 meters of elevation in less than an hour. Sweet, sweet oxygen, beautiful and thick.

Lion King is so accurate

After our successes on Kilimanjaro, our remaining activities were a breeze. Now, all we had to do was sit in a jeep for four days, watch cool animals and eat delicious food from the same cook who joined us for both the mountain and the safari. We bid goodbye to Chris and Joel as Chris headed to Europe and Joel to Zanzibar. Marya and I thought our safari was going to be with a bunch of other people based on how they do similar tours elsewhere in the world. We were shocked to discover that it would just be us, a guide/driver and a cook. A private safari?! I was expecting to be crammed into a bus full of gawking tourists and carted around in a somewhat contrived safari that took us through what amounted to a large zoo. This was not the case. All in all, this was one of the most amazing experiences I've had.

If you find yourself in East Africa and feel disinclined from subjecting yourself to the rigours of Kilimanjaro, I can still wholeheartedly recommend BaseCamp as a safari tour company. I would also say that, unless you are an avid animal photographer nut or an obsessive bird watcher, a 4-day safari is plenty of time. If you're like me, then your sole goal of a safari is to see an elephant and a lion and say, "cool, bro" and I would say a 4-day safari is perfect. Some people go out there for 11 days and, honestly, I think I would get bored. Giraffes' long necks and goofy faces can only amuse me for so long.

I would also say that unless you are an animal nut or a creepy leophile, then don't waste your time at other parks. Do Serengeti and Ngorongoro Crater. It's famous for a reason. I never blogged about it, but I went on two safaris in Uganda and, after experiencing Serengeti, I can safely say the Ugandan safaris were a waste of money and time, compared to the fascination of the Serengeti. For me anyway, as a "cool, bro" kind of ignorant, gawking safari tourist.

Let me also say that with any safari, there is a huge element of luck in what you see. And Marya and I got insanely lucky in our short four days. First of all, if I haven't built them up enough already, our BaseCamp safari guide, Fityayo, was unbelievably impressive and very authentic. He would take us away from touristy areas and drive out to more remote areas away from crowds. I swear he could spot a pair of lion ears 5 kilometres away. The things he spotted were absurd. And, importantly, he TRIED to spot things. Other tour guides just use radios, don't even look and wait to get a radio signal from another guide telling them where the action is. Fityayo didn't even use a radio. He spotted stuff all on his own.

With the help of our guide, we were lucky to see all "Big 5" animals. Lions, buffalo and elephants are easy. But we were super lucky to see an elusive leopard and we spent 2 hours waiting patiently for him to move out of his tree. He finally did and we got to see him just as the sun was setting. We were even more lucky to spot a super rare rhino in Ngorongoro Crater on our last day. This one was particularly impressive because Fityayo spotted it first, before any other guide did and it was so far away! It was a grey speck that appeared small even in binoculars. Because he spotted it first, we got some time alone with it and it walked closer and closer to us. Soon, a few other jeeps had driven by and saw us looking and suddenly, via radios, all the jeeps in the crater were converging on us (and the rhino) to give their clients a good view. We left when it got busy and I felt a misplaced sense of pride at having been there first even though it was all Fityayo. All I'd done is sit there, being a tourist.

One more piece of ridiculous luck is that we actually got to see a female lion stalk a warthog through high grass in perfect Nala-Pumba style. We watched the drama for nearly 2 hours and, it sounds corny, but my heart was actually racing the whole time as we waited for the lion to strike. A stalking lion is a terrifying sight. I never want to have those eyes on me as a target. Finally, Nala lunged when she thought she was close enough but, in a flurry of dust, Pumba got away. I didn't see it, but what followed was probably a conversation with a meerkat and a recognition of long lost friends between Simba and Nala.

The number of animals in this place is absurd. Giraffes become common place. Elephants become "meh". I think in the four days we saw baboons, giraffes, elephants, lions, lion cubs, leopard, rhino, wildebeest, gazelle, hartebeest, hyena, hippo, crocodile, zebras, monkeys, warthog, cheetah, vultures, ostriches, buffalo, tons of birds and probably a few other I can't think of. It's insane. And I was a skeptic beforehand. I thought it would just feel like going to the zoo except in a vehicle. But, thankfully, it felt so much more authentic than that. The authenticity was increased by doing a camping safari. No fences around the campsite and if you had to go to the bathroom at night you were to check the surrounding bush for the glint of eyes and leave the tent in pairs and pee near the tent. At night we heard a few lions one night and a couple other creatures sniffing around and walking near the campsite. Who says you can't sleep in the lion enclosure in the zoo?

I'll talk more about Zanzibar in my next post!

backpacking africa

Before we began our trip, both Marya and I asked the question, "can you backpack through Africa?" I decided to seek advice from the trusty internet and started by scouring various travel forums such as Lonely Planet's ThornTree. It seemed the internet consensus was, "Not really. No one does it. It's more dangerous and more difficult than other backpacker-friendly places like Southeast Asia."

But here I was, riding on the back of a motorcycle, whizzing across Uganda with a backpack strapped precariously to my back, hanging over the back of the motorcycle. Every time the driver accelerated or went up a steep incline, I felt the weight of the backpack behind me, attempting to wrench me off the back and send me to a far-off Ugandan hospital. Here In Uganda, motorcycles-turned-taxis are called boda-bodas. Legend says that the first motorcycle taxis used to transport people from border town to border town and, because Ugandans like to make names obvious, they named them "border-borders" which becomes boda-boda when you put on your African accent. It seemed fitting then that we were bodabodaing towards the sleepy border post of Cyanika which would lead us on into Rwanda. 

Mgahinga

We had just spent two nights in the equally-sleepy, one-street town of Kisoro in the shadow of three classic, conical volcanoes. Kisoro SHOULD be a backpackers paradise. It is full of relatively cheap guest houses, chill cafés and incredibly welcoming and friendly residents. In the surrounding area there are hikes, treks, gorillas, lakes and even snake tracking (for all those people that love tracking snakes). But the guest houses were empty. The cafés longed for hippies with dreads to sip their delicious African tea. The town is ripe for tourism but, as far as I could tell, we were the only backpackers in town. Occasionally, a convoy of shiny jeeps full of pampered tourists would roll through town on their way to a private gorilla tour. They probably came straight from Kigali or one of the nearby $500-per-night safari lodges but they didn't seem to stay in town. 

Perhaps Kisoro is not the thriving backpacker town it wishes it was because it costs $700 each to go on a 4-hour gorilla tracking hike which we opted out of to save our bank account. All the tourist activities are prohibitively expensive in Africa which in many ways is beneficial because it stops the gorilla treks from turning into a zoo as people file through to watch the gorillas for the same entrance fee (and experience) as the Calgary Zoo. Kisoro may also be lacking in backpacking hippies because the town is a windy, 7-hour drive from Mbarara with no bus services and only hitch-hiking via Toyota Corolla as the transport option. Or maybe it's because this town in southwest Uganda is only 5 km from the Congolese border where jungles are supposedly teeming with rebel groups, land mines, rape and murder. There are certainly reasons why this is off the backpacker trail but Marya and I were loving it. We basically had the town to ourselves. No touts. No scammers. No tourist traps. Just genuinely friendly, helpful people who give you a good price and reliable information. This could easily be the next backpacker trail following in the footsteps of Laos' hippie trail, assuming the Congo cleans up its act and Uganda brings tourist-friendly bus services to town. 

A year or two ago, the leader of a major Congolese rebel group was captured on the Ugandan side of the border about 3 km from Kisoro in nearby Mgahinga National Park. Mgahinga was the park that housed those three, picture-perfect volcanoes I mentioned earlier and it was Mgahinga that had brought us so far off the tourist trail as we aimed to climb the second highest of the three volcanoes: Mount Sabinyo. To ease my mother's worry, the Congo has supposedly become more stable in recent months and it was unlikely that rebel groups would be roaming the park. As an extra assurance, we were accompanied on our hike by a guard with an AK-47 who said the gun was primarily for insurance if we came face to face with an angry elephant or water buffalo. Perhaps this is more cause for worry because now we had to worry about rebels, angry elephants AND the guy with the AK killing and robbing us at gun point in the remote national park. So, you may be asking, why were we climbing this volcano? The somewhat silly and trivial reason for climbing the 3700 meter volcano was because the peak lay at the tri-point of three countries: Uganda, Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) which was a pointless geographical oddity that somehow made the mountain more appealing. The more practical reason for doing the hike was in preparation for our assault on Kilimanjaro planned a week later in Tanzania. It would be good to get our hiking legs back. 

The hike up Sabinyo was --in a word-- exhausting. The majority of the hike was along steep, mist-shrouded ridges that shot up to the sky like knives. The mist was thick and dulled all noise except for your own panting as you climbed higher and higher. Much of the way was so steep that they had installed rickety and precarious ladders that we had to scramble up; this was made all the more difficult because of the ever-present mist, which soaked the ladders into slippery death traps. The summit was anticlimactic because of the mist. I climb mountains for the views and the mist dampened that experience (ha!). But we did eat lunch in the Congo and I wasn't immediately swarmed by rebels, so it wasn't all that bad. Our guide didn't shoot us in the back and throw us off the steep, spindly ridges, nor did we encounter a rampaging elephant. On the descent, the clouds parted and we were rewarded with some great views of Kisoro, the Congolese jungles to the west and Rwanda's rolling hills to the south. We couldn't enjoy the views much because we were busy descending those slippery ladders which required great concentration. By the time we landed back in Kisoro, our legs were jelly. The hiking legs we meant to get back turned into screaming-pain legs the next morning. We could barely move. 

Rwandan hospitals

But move we did, on into Rwanda via boda-boda to Cyanika and then minibus from Cyanika to Gisenyi. Gisenyi is a city of about 400,000 lying on the shores of Lake Kivu with its western city limits marked by the Congolese border. Across the border is the city of Goma which has been in the news as the major centre in war-torn Congo and the major base for UN and other aid organizations in the Congo. It was attacked by rebels a few months ago, but the UN recently increased their manpower in the region and the UN, along with the Congolese army, have pushed the rebels back deeper into the jungles. Goma has also been in the news because the city was destroyed in 2002 by the eruption of nearby Nyiragongo Volcano. Lava flowed through the streets and buried much of the city like a modern-day Pompeii. Nyiragongo loomed large on the horizon. It was only about 5 km from Gisenyi. I have dreamt of climbing the volcano for years but, sadly, the volcano is currently closed to tourism. The Belgian director of Nyiragongo's national park had been shot a few months ago in the park, the corrosive ash spouting from the bubbling lava lake has destroyed the huts and rebels have lain landmines on the trails. Now, I love adventure but there is a line between adventure and stupidity. I left my Nyiragongo-climbing shoes behind for another day when the region is safer.

If rebels, landmines and lava aren't enough to deter you from the region there's more! Lake Kivu is a lake that will kill you if you aren't careful. The lake has been known to have "limnic eruptions" which are basically large amounts of CO2 and other gases which erupt from below and rise to the surface. Depending on wind, the cocktail of poisonous gases will glide into town and kill you by asphyxiation. The eruptions are rare, but we were still told not to swim in the lake unless you see locals swimming as well. And if the others' swimming turns to dying, then maybe you shouldn't swim there. 

So, in this land where everything is trying to kill you, it only seemed fitting that Marya soon developed a violent fever and stomach pains the first day we were there. I convinced her to go to the hospital despite her objections as she pretended to be fine while shivering violently. Marya had just spent a month treating people as a docta in a Ugandan hospital and now the tables had turned and she was the patient in a Rwandan hospital. The whole situation was made more difficult because most well-educated people in Rwanda speak fluent French but poor English. I also got to experience firsthand the inefficiencies that Marya had been telling me about for the past month. First of all, you have to pay for everything; from the meds and needles to the gloves and iodine the doctors use, you pay for it all. But, for some reason, the place where you pay and the place where you pick up meds and supplies are at opposite sides of the hospital grounds. So every time a doctor prescribes something or needs a test done, a family member or friend of the sick person would have to go wait in a massive line up to pay and then walk all the way across the hospital to wait in another massive line to pick up the meds or supplies. It was insanely inefficient. Despite the inefficiencies that seemed so reminiscent of Uganda, Rwanda's medical system was slightly better in terms of procedures, methods and availability of medicines and supplies. They actually cleaned areas before jabbing needles and had proper vacuum tubes for taking blood and stuff. 

It was a rough night in the hospital with Marya on rounds of IV medicines to get rid of the pesky parasites partying in her gut. Gisenyi was not a fun city. The hospital and the many geological methods of death aside, it still made me uncomfortable. The roads were all gravel and there were no street lights at all. The sun set at 6 pm and after that, the streets quickly emptied and became dark, dusty and dangerous. The layout of the city was very confusing and spread out making it difficult to get around. All I wanted was a good, quick, reliable meal that I could eat and bring leftovers to Marya. Subway? Opa? Earl's? Nothing. Never had I craved food from home so much. When your wife is sick in hospital, you don't want to be wandering around a foreign city, lost and in the dark, searching for a bite to eat. 

But hey, don't let any of this discourage you from visiting Gisenyi. Lovely city. 

Kwibohora 2014

We were very fortunate to arrive in Kigali, the capital city of Rwanda, on July 3rd, just one day before the 20 year anniversary of the end of the 1994 Rwandan genocide of the Tutsi. It was a weird twist of fate that Marya's sickness forced us to change our original plans so that we ended up in Kigali earlier than intended. She was on a concoction of drugs to stop the parasite party and was feeling significantly better but we still decided to head to Kigali earlier  so that we would be nearer to larger and better medical centres. 

Thus we ended up at Amahoro ("peace" in local language) Stadium in Kigali on July 4th which is Liberation Day in Rwanda. This day marks when the militia group known as the Rwanda Patriotic Front (RPF) entered Kigali and stopped the genocide. The RPF was then considered a "rebel group" lead by Paul Kagame. Twenty years on, Paul Kagame is the much-loved president of the small country and has helped lead the country to greater prosperity, as it is now one of the fastest growing African economies. Rwanda has made leaps and bounds in almost all indicators of development in the last 20 years, from healthcare to education to internet infrastructure to gender equality. 

I think Rwandans have a lot to be proud of considering the country was in ruins 20 years ago, with a million dead bodies littering the streets and bitter tribal divisions that led to deep distrust of even your own neighbours. It's impressive that the country rebounded and rebranded everyone as "Rwandan". The government no longer even acknowledges tribes. And in Amahoro Stadium, the stands were full of young Rwandans, many probably around my age who would have only been young children when the genocide happened. The presidents of Uganda, Kenya, Tanzania and Ethiopia were all in attendance as well as delegates from embassies for countries around the world. There were lengthy and impressive military formations, marching bands, traditional dancers and much pomp and circumstance. It was very cool and really gave a great taste of Rwandan culture considering we were only in the country for a short week. 

Paul Kagame gave a speech focusing on hope for the future and learning from mistakes. It was a very optimistic speech but the whole stadium certainly had a somber air around it. People sat quietly in the stands. There was some cheering and applause but most of the time it was shockingly quiet for a crowd of thousands of people. It blows my mind that everyone in that stadium over 20 years old likely witnessed or participated in slaughtering their fellow citizens. 

While in Kigali, we also thought it fitting to stop at the Kigali Genocide Memorial, which houses a very informative and disturbing museum about the events surrounding the genocide. I found that the most shocking part is how neighbours, friends, employees and bosses all turned on each other. Regular citizens participated. It leaves you with the eerie feeling as you walk around Kigali and see 40 or 50 year old men walking past you and you contemplate how many of them have hacked or stoned someone as part of a disturbing act of genocidal mob violence. The depths of human violence are often unfathomable. 

The disturbing facts of the past should not dampen the optimistic hopes for the future. Rwanda seems to have done an incredible job of learning from their mistakes and moving on. It seems to have been a concerted effort by the government, the military and the populace to create a highly successful state. It is a great example of the people themselves realizing how superficial their differences are. The end of the genocide was not imposed by foreign powers, it was brought to an end by the people themselves. As I read the news about tribal or sectarian violence in Central African Republic, Sudan, South Sudan, Syria, Iraq and Somalia, I wish more people could somehow, by some impossible act of popular consensus, follow Rwanda's example. 

Between the brutal hike, the hospital trips in Gisenyi and the depressing history lessons in Kigali, it might sound like our short 10 days backpacking through southwestern Uganda and Rwanda wasn't enjoyable. That's far from true. It was a great time with many memorable moments. It's a beautiful area of the world. In fact, it's one of the few places where I already have a list going of the things I want to do when I come back! It was a very brief experience, but we did manage to backpack through Africa, taking local transport rather than private safari jeep, staying in churches rather than posh hotels and eating at -- ok, food is our one weakness as we definitely ate out at fancier Western-style restaurants! I could go for some Subway right now...

village life in development

I hope you enjoyed Marya's post about the hospital. As long as you weren't squeamish about cauterizing and needles and tubes in horrible places, it should've been an enjoyable read. She kept it tame and failed to mention the time when I hid in my room as the three of them repeatedly stabbed each other with IVs for "practice". From my room I heard various comments like, "oh man, that was a great vein!" followed by "get some towels, we've got to mop this mess up". Marya appeared in the room with bandages on her hands and a crazed look in her eyes sniffing the air for the smell of fresh blood. In summary, doctors are weird.

Kyabugimbi Bushenyi Nyemyerande Kitwe: What a mouthful

There's no way to put this nicely: Africa is quite poor. And rural Uganda is probably one of the poorest areas of one of the poorest countries in all of Africa. I spent a short 4 days staying in a village called Kyabugimbi which is located in the rural district of Bushenyi, about 2 hours west of Mbarara. The village is 40 minutes from the main highway up a narrow dirt road which winds its way through the beautiful hills and valleys. This is a land where no kid wears shoes and walks 5+ km to school daily. This is a land where younger children who recently stopped breast feeding have swollen bellies from malnutrition as their bodies transition to a diet of cooked bananas. This is a land where everyone lives in mud huts and grows their own food, and anything they don't eat they try to sell at the local markets. This is a land without cars, without electricity, without indoor plumbing, without internet, computers or even cell phones (while cell phones seem to be ubiquitous in Mbarara and Kinoni). This place made Mbarara look like a modern metropolis full of modern conveniences like pavement and metal. Despite the poverty, it cannot be overstated how gorgeous the country is. It is full of lush green valleys and hills filled with banana plantations, fields of cassava, and dotted with mud huts and small villages. The whole landscape is criss-crossed with footpaths and trails linking houses. It was those footpaths that I became acquainted with over four days as I walked between 5 and 10 kilometres each day, conducting surveys with local families in the nearby villages of Nyemyerande and Kitwe.

There was very little English in these poor, rural locales and so I had been joined by Jane, the field coordinator for the Ainembabazi Children's Project (ACP). She had grown up in a nearby village but had managed to finish high school and attend college and now acted as my translator for the week in conducting the surveys. My teaching experience in Kinoni had little to do with ACP's direct work although the organization does have connections with the school. ACP's main program is out in Bushenyi district, working with kids and their families to improve the standard of living in the communities. About 30 kids in the villages are involved with the program and ACP has donated various bits of infrastructure to the local schools such as water tanks, libraries and teachers' living quarters. The organization has now just begun a pilot project giving micro-finance loans to the students' guardians in an effort to promote business and economic growth in the community. The pilot project currently involves just 6 guardians.

My task here was two-fold: first, I was conducting a survey for about 15 of the students, gathering basic information and ensuring they were maintaining their grades. The second part of the assignment was to conduct another survey for the guardians; for those 6 guardians who had received a loan, I was to determine how they used the money and ask questions about whether the loan worked to improve their financial situation; for those other guardians who were not yet part of the loan program, we were to give a similar survey to see if they needed or wanted such a loan.

It was a very interesting experience in so many ways. First, I got to see just how poor the rural education system is. Almost all the kids were failing their classes despite being first, second or third in their class. Second, I got to ask very pointed questions about the financial status of these poor families. Because of the nature of the survey, I ended up asking somewhat awkward questions that I would never have asked otherwise for fear of being rude or culturally insensitive. This included questions like: "do you struggle to pay for school fees?" or "is there enough food at home to feed your family?"

I think this week really highlighted some of the ideas I had been thinking about throughout my volunteer experience with regards to inequality and development. I've summarized these into 4 "lessons" I've learned through a variety of experiences.

As a disclaimer let me say that when I was in Nyemyerande or Kitwe I felt that the cultural gulf between me and these rural Ugandans was just too great. I could not fathom their mindset or worldview. I could only speculate about their wants and desires and hopes and dreams. I couldn't even begin to empathize with them because I felt as though I couldn't put myself in their shoes. Partly because they don't even have shoes.

Lesson #1: It's not about material possessions

This is something I'm reminded of time and time again when I travel. Material possessions are not a very good indicator of happiness or satisfaction. I find that we (as in Western foreigners) tend to place a disproportionate focus on material goods, money and the lack thereof. We see them in their mud huts without any modern conveniences and feel some sort of misguided sympathy for them that they don't have such things. As I walked around the villages, visiting these smiling and warm families, I often found myself thinking not why they had so little but why we have so much. They get by fine with a small hut, with a shared bed and a charcoal stove. They get by fine without computers or cars or microwaves or junk food or Walmarts or all this other clutter in our lives that we use to distract ourselves and make our lives maximally efficient so we can accomplish as much as possible all the time. They don't need any of it to survive because they have been surviving as they are for hundreds of years.

Lesson #2: Canada is better

It may not be about material possessions but it is quite clear that Canada has superior infrastructure. Canada is objectively better than Uganda. It might seem harsh or insensitive but it's true. Uganda is a wonderful place and there are pros and cons to the different cultures and lifestyles but Canada's pros outweigh Uganda's considerably. This is evidenced by the fact that Canada takes in thousands of immigrants every year. I have had teachers, students, taxi drivers and random strangers here ask if I can take them to Canada. I have had people ask how they go to Canada or if I can arrange something with the Canadian government to take them there. They are a happy people but it's not just me who thinks Canada is better, they seem to also agree. And, material possessions aside, Canada has wonderful things like: public healthcare, an awesome education system, well-stocked fridges, stores full of endless brands of things as mundane as crackers, consistent electricity, indoor plumbing, a strong currency, a wealth of natural resources, curb-side garbage and recycling collection, smooth roads, and a thousand other things which can safely be said to be much better than the alternatives present in Uganda.

The discrepancy between material possessions does not concern me. The discrepancy in infrastructure, healthcare and education is the most surprising. Canada is an amazing place to live and it is a strange act of fate that, by no merit of my own, I was born in a place such as this. But, like with material possessions, the norm is to have such things as indoor plumbing and smooth roads. How many times have I complained about the pot-holed roads in Edmonton? We, in Canada, EXPECT smooth roads. We EXPECT quick healthcare service. We EXPECT to have indoor plumbing. No home builder would build a house with squat toilets because no one would buy the house. These higher expectations can make us look like huge snobs relative to Ugandans. I feel like a recent Ugandan immigrant to Canada would be amazed and astounded by every piece of infrastructure that we take for granted. The Ugandans have an amazing ability to put up with terrible circumstances largely because they don't know any different since they have spent their whole lives putting up with the corruption, inefficiencies and the long bumpy road to Kinoni. Infrastructure, education and healthcare are the backbone of development and perhaps on these issues, Ugandans would do well to be brought up to Canadian standards so that they to expect to be healthy, educated and with access to roads, water and electricity.

It is in this regard that I feel most saddened for the people. Time after time on the survey, the students mentioned that they did not have enough food at home. Time after time on the survey, the guardians told us they struggled to afford school fees or textbooks. They are lacking in material possessions and also in necessities. But they are quite a happy people. I spoke to Jane about it and she basically said that the vast majority of Ugandans are happy with their place in the world. They are extremely thankful for what they have. They never complain. They have a love for life and a wonderful communal culture. They chat happily with strangers. They are smiley and energetic and I don't know if I should feel sympathy for them. Sympathy spurs aid but they are fine in many ways on their own. They are a capable people that can build their own way and development aid often seems like meddling. It's a conflicting feeling that I have. They don't need our pity but it also seems clear that our infrastructure is superior.

Lesson #3: Pave it and they will come

Despite those conflicting feelings, I will say a few things I've learned about development here.

Our first weekend in Uganda was mine and Marya's 1st wedding anniversary and we decided to celebrate by traveling to the beautiful Lake Bunyonyi about 2 hours southwest of Mbarara. We stayed in a nicer hotel which met our expectations and standards as Canadians. Indoor plumbing, electricity, wifi, and a beautiful view of the lake and surrounding countryside. We felt a bit like snobs especially after everything I just said regarding infrastructure and materialism. It was here that we met a lovely British couple who lived in nearby Kabale and were also staying at the Birdnest Hotel. The husband was the lead engineer for the engineering firm that had been contracted to pave the road from Kabale to Mbarara (which included the horrible stretch to Kinoni). This road upgrading project is part of a massive multi-government project to make a continuous highway from Mombasa, Kenya to Burundi (around 2000 km of road). It has funding from both the EU and China.

Roads bring economic development. They spur the transfer of goods, ideas and resources. They make the countryside safer by enabling faster communication and response of police or military. A good road network is the key to developing a country economically. This British engineer spoke about the lawlessness of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) because of a lack of interconnected road networks. Southwestern Uganda used to be in similar shape with banditry and disappearances being widespread. But since the government began upgrading, paving and building roads, the country has become much safer. Trade has also increased both within the country and via international trucking. A new road means a new gas station which means a new convenience store and a new hotel for stopovers and it all snowballs into an overall bigger and healthier economy.

The conversation with the engineer was brief, but the more I thought about it the more I realized how brilliant road-building is as a form of development aid. It's a form of aid that I feel like most people don't automatically think of because we are focused on healthcare and education as per below.

Lesson #4: Good healthcare needs fewer babies

Every student I visited in Bushenyi had at least 5 siblings. The most I saw had 9. The least I saw had only 1 but that was because the two parents had died of AIDS before they could produce more children. These people now have access to a clinic in Kyabugimbi which can provide medication and treatment. They also now have one of the best hospitals in the country only a few hours away in Mbarara. As the healthcare system slowly lumbers toward a higher standard, the education system must follow. If people are educated, they tend to have fewer children. Currently, people are still producing many children, expecting some to die due to diseases which are now treatable. Furthermore, they are still producing children despite the fact that children are now a financial liability because of school fees. Before, kids could be used to help in the fields and markets, and some families still opt to have their kids work rather than pay for them to be educated. Uganda is already one of the fastest growing populations in the world and it will only get more pronounced if the infant mortality keeps dropping while the birth rate remains the same.

On the Thursday before we left Mbarara, we invited the medical residents over for dinner. These were the residents which Marya, Chris and Joel worked with most closely during their time at the hospital. Ishaq, one of the particularly chatty residents with a shockingly deep voice, began talking about the state of Ugandan healthcare and education. The education system is certainly lagging considerably behind the healthcare system in terms of attaining a Canadian standard. The schools are awful, overcrowded, and expensive. The teachers are underpaid and often lazy. The gap in quality of education is also very apparent between a city school and a rural school. The schools out in Nyemyerande and Kitwe were in rough shape. The teachers often left early and simply didn't teach their afternoon classes. Most teachers spoke little English despite the governmental requirement to instruct classes in that language. The buildings were literally crumbling to the ground. The textbooks were in tatters. Of all the students I interviewed, all were failing except one exceptionally bright girl named Rinah who managed to get high 80s in most subjects except, surprise, English.

I think the reason for the lag in educational quality when compared to health is because investment in education is very slow and intangible. It is very difficult to measure the efficacy of an investment in education. And, because of this, a potential donor may opt for a more tangible place to give money. With healthcare, a donor can give a hospital a new piece of shiny medical equipment that does a specific task that can save lives immediately. But with education, so much of the quality is determined by the teachers themselves rather than the supplies. There's no point in donating more chalk and desks if the teacher leaves halfway through the day. There's no point in donating English textbooks and new library buildings if the teacher isn't proficient enough in English to instruct the students. I think this is the biggest challenge facing Ugandan education. It's not a lack of supplies or resources but rather a lack of good, motivated teachers. Just this month, the government announced a 25% pay increase for teachers countrywide. That will help teachers be able to work more at teaching rather than holding down a second job to generate extra income. But what they really need is stricter requirements for teaching as well as bigger incentives to work in rural schools. Some of the teachers at the rural schools hadn't even finished high school themselves, and they were already teaching primary school.

Uganda has the goal of mandatory public primary education. They're far from that goal but one of the big things I've learnt about "development" is that it is not a task for the impatient. These things will take years and years and there is no formula for success.


And so, with that, we have finished our segment in Mbarara. It was a wonderful experience and so many people have asked Marya and I when we are coming back. For them it is "when", for us it is "if". It would certainly be nice to come back, but these opportunities don't come up very often. Many people here don't seem to realize how far away Canada is nor do they realize how expensive it is and how rare it is that people in Canada have months off at a time.

It has been good. All good things must come to an end. Now we move into the travelling phase of the trip with plans to first hit Rwanda for a week before flying to Tanzania to tackle Kilimanjaro.