Just to make it clear that it is not just one long holiday, I thought I should tell you more about Shika and the other projects that I have been involved with over the months.
Shika – Shika is now up and running and takes up much of my week. We are open Mon to Thurs, and the children come for 3 hours after school. We have children from Standard 1 (Tues and Thur) and Standard 2 (Mon and Wed) and we are teaching them English and Maths, and a life skills lesson which can really be anything, this week I taught them about Rwanda, in the past we have taught them about hygiene, nutrition, or more creative things like painting, making cards, etc. I can talk to the children now and am very attached to them, though they are hard work!
Make a Difference Foundation – This is the nursery that was set up by my friend David. He runs it in the front room of another of his friends, and invites just about all the children from his village. I went tand helped there a few times, but found it to be very hard work, and really not in my field of expertise. What I did do, though, was introduce the other volunteers there, so from that he had proper teachers volunteering over the summer, and lots of donations of teaching materials.
St Margaret's – The school that I mentioned in my first blog. However once Shika had started up, the timings made it impossible to do both.
Emusoi – A charity that I have visited for the first time this week. It was set up by an American nun in order to educate Maasai girls, who would traditionally not be educated as they are sold to a husband for a number of cows when they reach puberty therefore it is seen that there is no purpose in educating them. They are often brought to the centre by their mothers (the fathers generally disagree with the education and can be violent in opposing it) and the centre provides them with school uniforms and materials and school fees, as well as somewhere to live during the holidays if it is dangerous for them to go home. It gets funding from DifD and USAID, and President Bush visiited when he was in Tanzania. Despite this they still lack funding. I explained that I was an accountant and that if they needed help with any thing of that sort, I would be happy to.
Step by Step – An interesting charity set up by a woman called Margaret who has a daughter with Autism. There are no real services for children with disabilities in Tz, so she decided to set up her own day centre. When I met her, she had been running the centre for a while, but could then no longer afford the increased rent, so decided to build her own centre. This is where the volunteers came in, as painters. I spent many a day staring at the ceiling trying to work out if it needed another coat, or if the paint was just wet. It (re)opened on the 20th September.
Saturday, 25 September 2010
Safari
After 4 months in Tanzania I finally did what most people do within 3 days of arriving - go on safari. Safari being the only kiswahili word to have been introduced into other languages, meaning 'journey'. I mean it in the English sense though, as in I went off to see the animals.
I didn't go alone, though, because, as she put it herself, 'I love to see the big animals', Mum was very keen to come back to East Africa and share the experience with me. This turned out to be mutually beneficial, as she also refused to do a camping safari, so I got the added bonus of doing the safari in style.
We did a 4 day safari taking in Tarangire, Ngorogoro Crater and Serengeti National Parks. We had our chief guide, Gerry, whom I have known for quite a while, who was in charge of animals, and an assistant guide, Godfrey, whom avid readers will realise that I have also known for some time, who was in charge of birds. Birds don't hold a huge amount of interest for me, but even I was impressed by some of the ones that we saw, namely the Kori Bustard and the numerous Kites and Vultures (the latter waiting to take the last pickings after the cheetah, hyenas and then jackals had had their share.
Mum would like me to rescind my comment from Rwanda that the scenery there is much more beautiful than in Tanzania, and I will happily do so, as on this safari we saw some truly breathtaking sights, the peak of which was the Ngorogoro crater which was viewed from the rim. The lodge on the final day was balanced (somewhat precariously) upon this rim and had truly spectacular views, and indeed a telescope, through which we had our first sighting of the Black Rhino. Luckily we also saw one the next day from within the crater, slightly closer up. The two other lodges included a truly luxurious one called the Farmhouse located in a coffee plantation where we had a huge room complete with terrace and open fire, and a luxury tented lodge, which consisted of a giant tent with en-suite bathroom, flush toilet and hot shower, proper beds and dressing tables. Acceptable even to Hester after an initial comment of 'I thought I told you that I didn't want to camp.'
The advantage of this lodge was that you were right in the middle of the park - no fences, if a lion wanted to walk up to your tent, it would do so. That night they choose not to, and we had only hyenas for company. Noisy buggers they are too.
We basically saw all of the the below, including the rocks that they stand on.
Much of the time we had the animals to ourselves, other times they were seriously outnumbered, which felt very uncomfortable to us, so we left them to it where possible.
On the last day, in the crater we got to see a Rhino with it's baby, so after sightings of lions, cheetahs, elephant and buffalo, that gave us our 'Big 5'.
This morning we actually watched a program which must have been from at least the early 0's, as it mentioned the Tanganyika National Parks (Tanzania before the unification with Zanzibar, which is possibly about to be reversed). The program was narrated by a very proper English voice which quite correctly stated that Tanganyika needed to learn how to look after their national parks and wildlife, though inly after the have provided sufficiently for their people. It continued that you shouldn't provide water for the animals of the Serengeti before you have provided the same for your citizens.
I think if the narrator returned now they would be happy with how the parks have been preserved. I'm not sure what they would think about how the nation has provided for it's people though.
But of course, in this blog more than most, the real stories will be told through the photographs, so enjoy the snaps in the 'Safari Pictures' post.
I didn't go alone, though, because, as she put it herself, 'I love to see the big animals', Mum was very keen to come back to East Africa and share the experience with me. This turned out to be mutually beneficial, as she also refused to do a camping safari, so I got the added bonus of doing the safari in style.
We did a 4 day safari taking in Tarangire, Ngorogoro Crater and Serengeti National Parks. We had our chief guide, Gerry, whom I have known for quite a while, who was in charge of animals, and an assistant guide, Godfrey, whom avid readers will realise that I have also known for some time, who was in charge of birds. Birds don't hold a huge amount of interest for me, but even I was impressed by some of the ones that we saw, namely the Kori Bustard and the numerous Kites and Vultures (the latter waiting to take the last pickings after the cheetah, hyenas and then jackals had had their share.
Mum would like me to rescind my comment from Rwanda that the scenery there is much more beautiful than in Tanzania, and I will happily do so, as on this safari we saw some truly breathtaking sights, the peak of which was the Ngorogoro crater which was viewed from the rim. The lodge on the final day was balanced (somewhat precariously) upon this rim and had truly spectacular views, and indeed a telescope, through which we had our first sighting of the Black Rhino. Luckily we also saw one the next day from within the crater, slightly closer up. The two other lodges included a truly luxurious one called the Farmhouse located in a coffee plantation where we had a huge room complete with terrace and open fire, and a luxury tented lodge, which consisted of a giant tent with en-suite bathroom, flush toilet and hot shower, proper beds and dressing tables. Acceptable even to Hester after an initial comment of 'I thought I told you that I didn't want to camp.'
The advantage of this lodge was that you were right in the middle of the park - no fences, if a lion wanted to walk up to your tent, it would do so. That night they choose not to, and we had only hyenas for company. Noisy buggers they are too.
We basically saw all of the the below, including the rocks that they stand on.
Much of the time we had the animals to ourselves, other times they were seriously outnumbered, which felt very uncomfortable to us, so we left them to it where possible.
On the last day, in the crater we got to see a Rhino with it's baby, so after sightings of lions, cheetahs, elephant and buffalo, that gave us our 'Big 5'.
This morning we actually watched a program which must have been from at least the early 0's, as it mentioned the Tanganyika National Parks (Tanzania before the unification with Zanzibar, which is possibly about to be reversed). The program was narrated by a very proper English voice which quite correctly stated that Tanganyika needed to learn how to look after their national parks and wildlife, though inly after the have provided sufficiently for their people. It continued that you shouldn't provide water for the animals of the Serengeti before you have provided the same for your citizens.
I think if the narrator returned now they would be happy with how the parks have been preserved. I'm not sure what they would think about how the nation has provided for it's people though.
But of course, in this blog more than most, the real stories will be told through the photographs, so enjoy the snaps in the 'Safari Pictures' post.
Friday, 10 September 2010
Busman's Holiday
Despite travelling widely in East Africa, I haven't actually seen all that much of Tanzania accepting Kili, Moshi, Longido (Maasai heartland) and what seems like repeated trips on the Nairobi – Moshi highway. So for Godfrey's 30th birthday 3 of us decided to get out of town. 'Twende Mwanza!' - 'Let's go to Mwanza' was my suggestion, and Godfrey and Eli seemed to agree, so off we went.
Buses and coaches are not allowed to travel in the dark in Tanzania (presumably due to the lamentable approach to road safety inherent in all professional drivers in this country) so our safari began very early in the morning. We woke with the muslims observing Ramadan, however food was not on our minds as we walked to the bus. The bus left at day break and after the obligatory argument about who was sitting where, we started off on what turned out to be a 14 hour journey to Mwanza.
Neither GF nor Eli have been to Mwanza before, so I don't think any of us were entirely prepared for the length of journey, nor the dust situation along the way. Rainy season is well and truly over now and most roads are in some state of disrepair or rebuilding, so within minutes we were covered in a layer of dust. GF took the approach of combining my shawl over his mouth and nose, my sunglasses on his eyes as well as his baseball cap, resulting in quite an interesting look, though presumably a slightly less dangerous intake of dirt than the rest of us.
The road went through (do you have a map handy?) Babati, Singida, Nzega and Shinyanga before reaching Mwanza, on the shores of Lake Victoria. I have to say that my lasting impression from this journey is that Tanzania all looks quite similar, really. We past Lake Manyara early, though I must admit I was nodding off at this point as I didn't notice it, and Mount Hanang which is not nearly as impressive as Mount Meru or Kili. Singida was memorable as it is a town of boulders, so tiny houses will be positioned right next to mammoth bits of rock, which looked quite cool, but must interfere with their evening sunbathing.
Other than that, Tz appears to be an endless stream of brightly painted dukas and traffic police. I packed food for the journey but it wasn't really necessary as food is offered to you continuously. For breakfast we had fried meat and bananas, with a mid morning snack of boiled eggs. Lunch was chipsi kuku and samosas with fresh orange and mid afternoon snack was tomatoes. Despite seemingly eating continuously, we were all looking forwards to Mwanza's famous samaki (fish) when we arrived.
We found a decent hotel and then went straight for dinner. The food took a while to come but when it did arrive was absolutely massive. I went for a fish soup which turned out to contain a whole giant fish, two bananas, two potatoes and other assorted chopped veg. Very welcome though.
It later turned out that we had probably been overcharged for the food, not because I am a Mzungu, but mainly because GF and Eli we out of towners, and obviously so. They were outraged – and didn't seem to see the fact that that happens to me constantly.
The next day was Godfrey's actual birthday. 30 years old today! Though he doesn't look a day over 23, lucky sod. We wondered into town in search of Capri Point, the smarter end of town which has a fancy hotel where we could get a good view of the lake. Along the way we picked up a new member of the party, a guy originally from Arusha who now lives in Mwanza and works in the tourism industry. He was still with us, 2 days later. He didn't seem to have much to do that day so he became our unofficial tour guide, showing us the hotel, the rest of Capri Point and the views and Bismarck Rock (featuring on the 1000Tsh note). He also pointed out a man who had been in the documentary film 'Darwin's Nightmare' about the unacceptable treatment and overfishing of Lake Victoria by the powers that be. The film is banned in Tz and the man we saw was now clearly crazy and wandering around aimlessly. The thought was that his present condition is an indirect result of being in the film. I mustn't say more, as the walls have ears. After that he steered us to the beach where we ate more fish and spent a very happy afternoon paddling, drinking beer and listening to music whilst the sun went down.
We headed back to town after that to dance the night away to Bongo Flavour music and dread tomorrow morning's early rise, as the next plan was to catch the ferry to Ukerewe Island the next day.
The reason that I call this a busman's holiday is because whenever we saw some Wazungu, Eli and GF would approach the person accompanying them and arrange to meet them later in order to talk business and create networks between Arusha and where ever we happened to be at the time. Very clever, but not so interesting for me.
What was advertised as a 9 o'clock ferry became 9.30, and then actually 10am before we left the port, making me somewhat annoyed that I had set the alarm for 7.15am. The boat took us out into Lake Victoria to the UK and was a fairly uneventful trip all told, I have certainly been on much more scenic ferry rides, but then I am truly spoilt in that way.
For me the main excitement of arriving was brushing my leg against the exhaust pipe of a pikipiki whilst getting into Eli's uncle's car (he has just moved here from Dar Es Salaam and is the regions head of secondary school education). This resulted in a fairly minor but painful burn, a few tears and a frantic call to my aunt to remind me of the best way to treat burns. The local advice was to put honey on it and leave it uncovered. I followed Julia's advice and cleaned it, disinfected it and covered it. That's the end of my swimming for a few days. Only I could get a motorbike injury without ever actually having been on a motorbike.
My (now very dirty) guidebook – thanks though Nic, it's been invaluable – says that Nansio, UK's principle town is 'sleepy'. We would say that is something of an understatement. There is really nothing going on here, other than net fishing and washing in the lake. Lot's of naked bodies for me to avert my eyes from. Exploring the town didn't take long, so the evening was devoted to eating fish (of course) and catching up with relatives. My Swahili is now moderately good, and good enough to understand the jist of conversations, but I really need to be awake and ready, and that night I wasn't, so I excused myself and left the men to it.
The next day (a scorcher) I followed the advice of the guidebook and did the only thing there is to do on the UK, hire a bike. I dragged GF along for the ride, and on our 25p per hour bikes we explored a bit of the island. Quite pretty, and a few hills to climb to see the views of the lakes, the highlight of the tour being Bukindo Palace. A large house apparently designed by an Italian architect, but still made of barely disguised breeze blocks. I don't think it would be assigned 'palace' status in Europe, but I suppose it was an impressive enough building, though somewhat in disrepair. It was used by the chiefs of the main tribe on the island for 3 generations. The attendant woman (and family) tried to charge me 10,000Tsh to enter, though having read ahead I knew there was barely anything to see. I negotiated down to 3,000Tsh and was glad, as I was shown one room containing 5 drums and a wooden chair. Slightly less impressive for me, as Mum has a drum just like those that she was given as a gift from her sister's stay in Uganda. Godfrey got in for free as my 'tour guide'. Interesting as I decided to hire the bikes, and did all the navigating.
The lowpoint of the tour was Godfrey getting a puncture of the way back and having to walk home, oops.
Something interesting that we learnt about the Islanders is that they are happy for people to do well and build nice houses on the island, as long as they are not locals. Basically any local person who does well would be forced to live elsewhere or face a grisly end, from what I understand. Though they are happy for outsiders to come in and run businesses etc. What a strange idea.
From Ukerewe it was decided that there was no way that we going to go back along the Arusha – Mwanza road, so instead we would go north and above the Serengeti rather than below it. This meant getting the ferry from the North of the island across to Masahunga and then a bus ride to Bunda, and then another to Butiama. This may sound simple enough, but a complicating factor was the fact that none of our bank cards worked in the bank on the island, and we were all down to our last Tsh10,000 (£5). The ferry ride was 15p, so not an issue, but eventually we were going to get into difficulty. The ferry, of course, left late, and we only really got our 15p's worth with a cramped, standing room only crossing spent trying to protect my wound from unwelcome attack from passing legs.
The bus ride to Bunda was about £1.50 each, eating considerably into our money and meaning that we were not able to buy food or water in case we got stranded in the middle of nowhere. Before boarding the ferry I had bought what I though would be a portable, nutritious snack for us all. A pineapple. Obviously it transpired to be a prickly, heavy, inaccessible snack which I proceeded to carry by hand for the next 5 hours, whilst staring longingly at it, imagining what it's juicy, ripe flesh tasted like.
In Bunda we took a farcical taxi journey looking for a source of money, to find that the travelling bank had just left for the week. £3.35 left. The next 4 hours are so confusing that I can't even remember them, but it involved several different means of transport, mostly full to the rafters with people sitting in each others laps, a brief trip into Musoma City for cash and then a hasty retreat to Butiama, the birth place of J K Nyerere, whom I am assured that older readers will be well aware of.
I had never heard of him until I came to Tz and was promptly informed that he was the Baba ya Taifa - father of the nation. And Butiama is his birth and burial place. All very exciting, of course, but at 4.30pm after no lunch and a boiled egg for breakfast, the main item on the agenda was food. We ate at the only cafe in the village and had beef and rice (not much of the former, lots of the latter, as is typical of most portions). Before this though of course, we cracked open the pineapple.
Satisfied, we set about learning about JK. I knew almost nothing, so the learning curve was steep, but to sum up, he founded TANU and instigated the bloodless independence from British rule after returning from Edinburgh University. My guide book says he is universally popular. It is not spoken of, or certainly not very loudly, but I don't think this is entirely true.
From what I read though, despite some mistakes, he did bring independence, literacy and healthcare to the country, no mean feat.
We were shown his mausoleum, his birth place and his widow's current house, on a cliff top with spectacular views. I find it interesting that he spent his life selling the worth of Tz to it's inhabitants and outsiders and improving services, yet when he got Leukaemia and needed treatment, he flew to London and died there.
After the museum we went for a wander before dinner, as lunch really wasn't that long ago. Eli got talking to a woman who lived in the village and was walking that way, so we were all chatting when we past an older man crouching near the road. I assumed that he was doing some kind of work, but when we had past Eli went back to help him, and it turned out that he was actually stuck in the barbed wire of the fence and unable to move. Once released, he explained that he was walking to Tanga (ie, the other side of the country) and swayed into the sunset.
After dinner I settled into our £2.50 room for a very uncomfortable night's sleep complete with too small bed, too small sheets and a mosquito fighting to get inside the night. Given the size of the holes, I'm surprised he didn't succeed. I guess you get what you pay for.
Another early start the next day and another farcical journey over the border and into Kenya using multiple means of transport until we got to some town or other where there may or may not be buses to Nairobi. The outlook didn't look good, actually, as most buses went at noon and it was 12.30, and the others didn't leave til evening. The town wasn't bad, but I think it would have been stretching it to spend 8 hours there. Miraculously one did arrive, and we were 3 of the 8 people allowed on. Another 6 hours and we would be in Nairobi. Again, somehow we were without money, as we were now in Kenya and only had enough for the bus, so lunch and dinner time went by without eating. This was more than made up for, however, by the absolutely stunning scenery that was passing by the window, from almost rainforest type woodland, to steep sandy cliffs, to amazing views of the Rift Valley (now the 5th angle I have seen it from) from a cliff top.
Upon arrival in Nairobi my ability to stay patient (low at the best of times) was really being tested and I was not in the mood for the long walk that occurred next to find suitably cheap lodgings. That said, Nairobi is very expensive and I was also not prepared to spend what the hotels were asking. I wasn't particularly enamoured of the roads in Nairobi either, where pedestrian crossings are unheard of and you basically have to run between the moving traffic with your eyes shut and fingers crossed.
As was the theme of the trip, food was the most important thing on our minds once we had found a suitable hotel, so off we went for a (relatively) extortionate chipsi kuku and Tusker beer.
I think we were all in agreement that we didn't like Nairobi very much and decided to get the bus back home the next day. Another 7 hours along a dusty road, and then home sweet home.
Buses and coaches are not allowed to travel in the dark in Tanzania (presumably due to the lamentable approach to road safety inherent in all professional drivers in this country) so our safari began very early in the morning. We woke with the muslims observing Ramadan, however food was not on our minds as we walked to the bus. The bus left at day break and after the obligatory argument about who was sitting where, we started off on what turned out to be a 14 hour journey to Mwanza.
Neither GF nor Eli have been to Mwanza before, so I don't think any of us were entirely prepared for the length of journey, nor the dust situation along the way. Rainy season is well and truly over now and most roads are in some state of disrepair or rebuilding, so within minutes we were covered in a layer of dust. GF took the approach of combining my shawl over his mouth and nose, my sunglasses on his eyes as well as his baseball cap, resulting in quite an interesting look, though presumably a slightly less dangerous intake of dirt than the rest of us.
The road went through (do you have a map handy?) Babati, Singida, Nzega and Shinyanga before reaching Mwanza, on the shores of Lake Victoria. I have to say that my lasting impression from this journey is that Tanzania all looks quite similar, really. We past Lake Manyara early, though I must admit I was nodding off at this point as I didn't notice it, and Mount Hanang which is not nearly as impressive as Mount Meru or Kili. Singida was memorable as it is a town of boulders, so tiny houses will be positioned right next to mammoth bits of rock, which looked quite cool, but must interfere with their evening sunbathing.
Other than that, Tz appears to be an endless stream of brightly painted dukas and traffic police. I packed food for the journey but it wasn't really necessary as food is offered to you continuously. For breakfast we had fried meat and bananas, with a mid morning snack of boiled eggs. Lunch was chipsi kuku and samosas with fresh orange and mid afternoon snack was tomatoes. Despite seemingly eating continuously, we were all looking forwards to Mwanza's famous samaki (fish) when we arrived.
We found a decent hotel and then went straight for dinner. The food took a while to come but when it did arrive was absolutely massive. I went for a fish soup which turned out to contain a whole giant fish, two bananas, two potatoes and other assorted chopped veg. Very welcome though.
It later turned out that we had probably been overcharged for the food, not because I am a Mzungu, but mainly because GF and Eli we out of towners, and obviously so. They were outraged – and didn't seem to see the fact that that happens to me constantly.
The next day was Godfrey's actual birthday. 30 years old today! Though he doesn't look a day over 23, lucky sod. We wondered into town in search of Capri Point, the smarter end of town which has a fancy hotel where we could get a good view of the lake. Along the way we picked up a new member of the party, a guy originally from Arusha who now lives in Mwanza and works in the tourism industry. He was still with us, 2 days later. He didn't seem to have much to do that day so he became our unofficial tour guide, showing us the hotel, the rest of Capri Point and the views and Bismarck Rock (featuring on the 1000Tsh note). He also pointed out a man who had been in the documentary film 'Darwin's Nightmare' about the unacceptable treatment and overfishing of Lake Victoria by the powers that be. The film is banned in Tz and the man we saw was now clearly crazy and wandering around aimlessly. The thought was that his present condition is an indirect result of being in the film. I mustn't say more, as the walls have ears. After that he steered us to the beach where we ate more fish and spent a very happy afternoon paddling, drinking beer and listening to music whilst the sun went down.
We headed back to town after that to dance the night away to Bongo Flavour music and dread tomorrow morning's early rise, as the next plan was to catch the ferry to Ukerewe Island the next day.
The reason that I call this a busman's holiday is because whenever we saw some Wazungu, Eli and GF would approach the person accompanying them and arrange to meet them later in order to talk business and create networks between Arusha and where ever we happened to be at the time. Very clever, but not so interesting for me.
What was advertised as a 9 o'clock ferry became 9.30, and then actually 10am before we left the port, making me somewhat annoyed that I had set the alarm for 7.15am. The boat took us out into Lake Victoria to the UK and was a fairly uneventful trip all told, I have certainly been on much more scenic ferry rides, but then I am truly spoilt in that way.
For me the main excitement of arriving was brushing my leg against the exhaust pipe of a pikipiki whilst getting into Eli's uncle's car (he has just moved here from Dar Es Salaam and is the regions head of secondary school education). This resulted in a fairly minor but painful burn, a few tears and a frantic call to my aunt to remind me of the best way to treat burns. The local advice was to put honey on it and leave it uncovered. I followed Julia's advice and cleaned it, disinfected it and covered it. That's the end of my swimming for a few days. Only I could get a motorbike injury without ever actually having been on a motorbike.
My (now very dirty) guidebook – thanks though Nic, it's been invaluable – says that Nansio, UK's principle town is 'sleepy'. We would say that is something of an understatement. There is really nothing going on here, other than net fishing and washing in the lake. Lot's of naked bodies for me to avert my eyes from. Exploring the town didn't take long, so the evening was devoted to eating fish (of course) and catching up with relatives. My Swahili is now moderately good, and good enough to understand the jist of conversations, but I really need to be awake and ready, and that night I wasn't, so I excused myself and left the men to it.
The next day (a scorcher) I followed the advice of the guidebook and did the only thing there is to do on the UK, hire a bike. I dragged GF along for the ride, and on our 25p per hour bikes we explored a bit of the island. Quite pretty, and a few hills to climb to see the views of the lakes, the highlight of the tour being Bukindo Palace. A large house apparently designed by an Italian architect, but still made of barely disguised breeze blocks. I don't think it would be assigned 'palace' status in Europe, but I suppose it was an impressive enough building, though somewhat in disrepair. It was used by the chiefs of the main tribe on the island for 3 generations. The attendant woman (and family) tried to charge me 10,000Tsh to enter, though having read ahead I knew there was barely anything to see. I negotiated down to 3,000Tsh and was glad, as I was shown one room containing 5 drums and a wooden chair. Slightly less impressive for me, as Mum has a drum just like those that she was given as a gift from her sister's stay in Uganda. Godfrey got in for free as my 'tour guide'. Interesting as I decided to hire the bikes, and did all the navigating.
The lowpoint of the tour was Godfrey getting a puncture of the way back and having to walk home, oops.
Something interesting that we learnt about the Islanders is that they are happy for people to do well and build nice houses on the island, as long as they are not locals. Basically any local person who does well would be forced to live elsewhere or face a grisly end, from what I understand. Though they are happy for outsiders to come in and run businesses etc. What a strange idea.
From Ukerewe it was decided that there was no way that we going to go back along the Arusha – Mwanza road, so instead we would go north and above the Serengeti rather than below it. This meant getting the ferry from the North of the island across to Masahunga and then a bus ride to Bunda, and then another to Butiama. This may sound simple enough, but a complicating factor was the fact that none of our bank cards worked in the bank on the island, and we were all down to our last Tsh10,000 (£5). The ferry ride was 15p, so not an issue, but eventually we were going to get into difficulty. The ferry, of course, left late, and we only really got our 15p's worth with a cramped, standing room only crossing spent trying to protect my wound from unwelcome attack from passing legs.
The bus ride to Bunda was about £1.50 each, eating considerably into our money and meaning that we were not able to buy food or water in case we got stranded in the middle of nowhere. Before boarding the ferry I had bought what I though would be a portable, nutritious snack for us all. A pineapple. Obviously it transpired to be a prickly, heavy, inaccessible snack which I proceeded to carry by hand for the next 5 hours, whilst staring longingly at it, imagining what it's juicy, ripe flesh tasted like.
In Bunda we took a farcical taxi journey looking for a source of money, to find that the travelling bank had just left for the week. £3.35 left. The next 4 hours are so confusing that I can't even remember them, but it involved several different means of transport, mostly full to the rafters with people sitting in each others laps, a brief trip into Musoma City for cash and then a hasty retreat to Butiama, the birth place of J K Nyerere, whom I am assured that older readers will be well aware of.
I had never heard of him until I came to Tz and was promptly informed that he was the Baba ya Taifa - father of the nation. And Butiama is his birth and burial place. All very exciting, of course, but at 4.30pm after no lunch and a boiled egg for breakfast, the main item on the agenda was food. We ate at the only cafe in the village and had beef and rice (not much of the former, lots of the latter, as is typical of most portions). Before this though of course, we cracked open the pineapple.
Satisfied, we set about learning about JK. I knew almost nothing, so the learning curve was steep, but to sum up, he founded TANU and instigated the bloodless independence from British rule after returning from Edinburgh University. My guide book says he is universally popular. It is not spoken of, or certainly not very loudly, but I don't think this is entirely true.
From what I read though, despite some mistakes, he did bring independence, literacy and healthcare to the country, no mean feat.
We were shown his mausoleum, his birth place and his widow's current house, on a cliff top with spectacular views. I find it interesting that he spent his life selling the worth of Tz to it's inhabitants and outsiders and improving services, yet when he got Leukaemia and needed treatment, he flew to London and died there.
After the museum we went for a wander before dinner, as lunch really wasn't that long ago. Eli got talking to a woman who lived in the village and was walking that way, so we were all chatting when we past an older man crouching near the road. I assumed that he was doing some kind of work, but when we had past Eli went back to help him, and it turned out that he was actually stuck in the barbed wire of the fence and unable to move. Once released, he explained that he was walking to Tanga (ie, the other side of the country) and swayed into the sunset.
After dinner I settled into our £2.50 room for a very uncomfortable night's sleep complete with too small bed, too small sheets and a mosquito fighting to get inside the night. Given the size of the holes, I'm surprised he didn't succeed. I guess you get what you pay for.
Another early start the next day and another farcical journey over the border and into Kenya using multiple means of transport until we got to some town or other where there may or may not be buses to Nairobi. The outlook didn't look good, actually, as most buses went at noon and it was 12.30, and the others didn't leave til evening. The town wasn't bad, but I think it would have been stretching it to spend 8 hours there. Miraculously one did arrive, and we were 3 of the 8 people allowed on. Another 6 hours and we would be in Nairobi. Again, somehow we were without money, as we were now in Kenya and only had enough for the bus, so lunch and dinner time went by without eating. This was more than made up for, however, by the absolutely stunning scenery that was passing by the window, from almost rainforest type woodland, to steep sandy cliffs, to amazing views of the Rift Valley (now the 5th angle I have seen it from) from a cliff top.
Upon arrival in Nairobi my ability to stay patient (low at the best of times) was really being tested and I was not in the mood for the long walk that occurred next to find suitably cheap lodgings. That said, Nairobi is very expensive and I was also not prepared to spend what the hotels were asking. I wasn't particularly enamoured of the roads in Nairobi either, where pedestrian crossings are unheard of and you basically have to run between the moving traffic with your eyes shut and fingers crossed.
As was the theme of the trip, food was the most important thing on our minds once we had found a suitable hotel, so off we went for a (relatively) extortionate chipsi kuku and Tusker beer.
I think we were all in agreement that we didn't like Nairobi very much and decided to get the bus back home the next day. Another 7 hours along a dusty road, and then home sweet home.
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
Uganda
Not content with visiting 3 countries in one month, I thought I should better make it four, this time Uganda. I had a vague idea that I would visit Uganda at some point, but Mum made it much more imminent by saying that she knew of a team of medical volunteers going to Jinja in a couple of weeks to provide free medical care to Ugandans, and did I want to join them? Well yes, I do believe that Uganda would benefit from my vast medical knowledge, so I signed up.
Initially I looked into flights, but the price tag put me off so I went for the cheaper option of the 24 hour bus. It actually wasn't so bad as it sounds, especially as some friends gave me some sleeping pills to take to ease the journey (in the blister pack, if you are thinking that anything odd is going on). So I actually got about as much sleep as normal, albeit on and off.
I arrived at 8.45am and was picked up by Satish, whisked straight to the camp and put to work. Was I squeamish, I was asked? Well, yes, a little, but I've never fainted, so should be alright.
Good, then my job would be dental surgeon. And the dentistry in question was tooth extraction, mixed in with a little mouth tumour extraction where necessary. I thought I would be doing admin somewhere and wasn't quite prepared for holding a bucket whilst people spat up blood and bits of chipped tooth. All good though, and it turns out that I am not that squeamish after all! I probably won't go in for a change of career though, even though the dentist from Stockport did assure me that this is not how they do it at home. However, we were using single use needles, sterilised instruments and clean cotton swabs, so by the sounds of it that is better treatment than they would normally receive.
After that I had the slightly more relaxing job of counting pills into bags in the pharmacy. A slightly crazy tent where 14 people work around a small table whilst a woman with a loudspeaker shouts out the names of the people who have had their prescriptions filled out. Unfortunately she shouts they names out repeatedly, like 18 times or so until they say there are there. Imagine registration at Ferris Buellers school, but all day long.
An Indian lunch followed (most of the volunteers were Indians who were born here and then emigrated, presumably during the rule of Idi Amin), then back to the pharmacy for the rest of the day.
It's much hotter here than in Arusha, and I was still wearing my jeans and boots from the journey, along with a medical coat, so really quite boiling.
After the end of day briefing, I was very happy to come to the hotel and have a shower.
Dinner was at a lovely restaurant called the 2 Friends. A bit of western food cheered me up and the surroundings were beautiful. The conversation was interesting, as all but three people on the trip are Indian, so much of the chat is centred around that.
I didn't know whether to be pleased or hurt when during the discussion about age (one of the boys was born in 1992!) a girl said to me 'there's no way you look that old' on finding out I was 29.
Early rise the next day to be at the camp by 8am, and straight into counting medicines into small bags. And that is pretty much what I did for the next 8 hours. Just before lunch I did take a break from that and start logging meds into the log book instead.
I did manage to smooth a system during the day by changing the 4 stage process of receiving the meds into a 3 stage one, by asking that the stage of logging them into the log book be abolished. It just meant that people were standing around in the sunshine for far too long waiting and getting understandably impatient.
I took lunch at 2.30pm despite not being hungry as I just needed the break, then went back to counting into bags.
Dinner that night was less exciting although it was on the shores of Lake Victoria. The food took two hours to come, and really wasn't particularly special when it did arrive, so a bit of a let down. But the bill was 25,000 shillings each, about £7, so not so bad.
Day 3: Early rise again and got to wash my hair, quite exciting in itself. I was set free from the pharmacy today and was re trained as an optician. There was a bit of unrest amongst the troops,as me being released meant that other people had to take my place and this was not popular, but I think you just have to get on with it. Not everyone shares my view.
The opticians is great as you can give people glasses there & then and improve the quality of peoples lives straight away. Very gratifying. Some people were very funny, like saying that all the glasses that you tried on them were wrong until eventually you would go back to the prescription you started with, and lo and behold, that would be the perfect pair. Exasperating, and either a genuine mistake or an attempt to get frames that they preferred. If the latter, I would give them increasingly ridiculous lenses until they relented.
Also, I learnt to be able to tell quickly what glasses would suit a certain face. Unfortunately there was no mirror (actually, it was fortunate, as we would be there a lot longer otherwise) so they didn't necessarily always agree with you!
My annoyance today was that some of the drugs that we need for the opticians hadn't arrived, this meant that people who had woken to start queuing at 5am to see an optician and are prescribed drugs for their problem then are told to come back the next day for them, and therefore have to queue all over again.
I'm also not entirely happy with the attitude of some of the local doctors. Such as taking more than an hour and a half for lunch when they can see the length of the queues, or insisting on taking lunch at the same time, therefore effectively shutting the opticians down until they are back. Then, after that, leaving at 4pm when there are still queues. It just doesn't feel right to leave people waiting in the sunshine (hot hot hot) for so long. I would rather work through the break, or at least take a quick, staged break and keep people coming through, but that doesn't seem to be the thinking here.
Day 4: More of the same today, in the opticians, trying to give people the glasses they want. What's interesting for me on this trip is learning about 1972 from the point of view of the Indians who were living here at the time. All of the volunteers here but 3 are Indian, and either lived here in 1972, or their parents did. So today, after we went round the central market, we spent some time looking for Shree's parent's shop that they owned before they had to flee the country. They now live in Leicester.
The general thinking is that it was a much better country back then, but since then the infrastructure has been allowed to decay, and the population explosion has just exasperated the situation. It would be interesting to hear the African Ugandan point of view.
It is unimaginably how it must be to be told you must leave the place that you live in, and you are not allowed to take any of the assets you have worked hard for for years. 'The Last King of Scotland' is added to the list of films I must watch again once I am home, joining 'Gorillas in the Mist', 'Hotel Rwanda' and 'Out of Africa'.
The next day was Saturday, and a half day for the camp in which only staff from the factory which is allowing us to use their grounds are invited, supposedly a bit of a break.
Not quite the reality. When we arrived there were lots of women and children queuing and the paediatrician didn't have the heart to turn them away, so they were allowed in along with the factory workers.
My job was as organiser, along with Janice. We had to make sure that the medical books were in sufficient supply (each patient gets one as they register) that everyone was aware that unless they were a paeds or dental case, that their drugs would go direct to the factory the next week, to make sure that the factory didn't send too many staff, etc etc etc. It probably doesn't sound that hard, but with the various things that went wrong that day, Opthalmologists not turning up, non factory workers sneaking in, pharmacy staff going on strike, I did more work that half day than I did the two previous days added together. When I got to have lunch at 2.30, it was a very welcome break.
That afternoon we all went to the Nile resort for a swim and a beer, so the stress of the day slowly eased out of me.
Sunday – Sightseeing day! A late start to accommodate the younger members of the party (I am in a weird age range all of my own, between the teenagers/early twenty somethings and the more mature volunteers, so I kind of swing between the two groups socially, but not quite fitting into either, all at the same time.)
Then to a supermarket to buy supplies for an orphanage that some of the group wanted to visit. After quite a journey trying to find we eventually arrived. Apparently the orphanage had improved a lot since some of the volunteers had visited it the year before, and there were now bunk beds for the children with mosquito nets.
Next stop, to the factory for lunch, vegetarian Indian, as with most days. I like it though. Then off to the source of the Nile (or one of, anyway). A short walk down a tourist shop lined set of steps leads to the water. From the name, I was expecting a spring of some sort, but what it actually is is the point at which Lake Victoria officially becomes the Nile, so really quite wide even at this point. Also, a fifth of Ghandi's ashes were scattered here, so there is a memorial statue to him as well.
A boat took us from here to the Kingfisher Resort, which is laid out beautifully with gardens and swimming pools and little thatch roofed tables. We ate dinner here, and as seems to be the custom, the food arrived 1hr3/4 after we ordered.
For some reason Uganda is leaving me exhausted, I assume it is the heat as I really didn't exert myself at all that day, but again needed an early night.
Monday and Tuesday were my last two days at the camp as my bus left late afternoon on Tuesday. I did a mixture of opticians and pharmacy and general running around type admin. The most important thing I think I achieved in those days was running between different people trying to sort out getting some glasses made for a man called Job who needed a +13.00 prescription in both eyes. I have never looked through glasses that thick, so can only try and imagine what his vision must be like close up, but let's just say that getting these glasses will be life changing for him.
Monday evening we were entertained by a local Muhindi who owns a restaurant in town. Good Indian food, though once a again slow to arrive, meaning that straight after eating we were all quite keen to head home. My last night in Uganda was as comfortable as the rest had been and I got an excellent nights sleep in preparation for a disturbed night on Tuesday.
Lucky I did, as the bus ride this way wasn't quite so idyllic. It was late to arrive at Jinja, so obviously late to leave, we went 30mins then got a puncture so had to change the tyre. The borders were fine, but then my sleeping pill didn't seem to have quite the same effect and I had a restless night. Into Nairobi where I was told the Arusha connection was going to be outside straight away. 2 hours later it did arrive and scooped me off to the Tanzanian border, trying to make up time as it went. Inexplicable the bus waited at the border for ¾ of an hour (normally it's the other way round and you have to rush to make sure it doesn't go without you).
At some point the pill must have kicked in, as the next thing I knew, they were calling out 'Arusha', and I was home.
Initially I looked into flights, but the price tag put me off so I went for the cheaper option of the 24 hour bus. It actually wasn't so bad as it sounds, especially as some friends gave me some sleeping pills to take to ease the journey (in the blister pack, if you are thinking that anything odd is going on). So I actually got about as much sleep as normal, albeit on and off.
I arrived at 8.45am and was picked up by Satish, whisked straight to the camp and put to work. Was I squeamish, I was asked? Well, yes, a little, but I've never fainted, so should be alright.
Good, then my job would be dental surgeon. And the dentistry in question was tooth extraction, mixed in with a little mouth tumour extraction where necessary. I thought I would be doing admin somewhere and wasn't quite prepared for holding a bucket whilst people spat up blood and bits of chipped tooth. All good though, and it turns out that I am not that squeamish after all! I probably won't go in for a change of career though, even though the dentist from Stockport did assure me that this is not how they do it at home. However, we were using single use needles, sterilised instruments and clean cotton swabs, so by the sounds of it that is better treatment than they would normally receive.
After that I had the slightly more relaxing job of counting pills into bags in the pharmacy. A slightly crazy tent where 14 people work around a small table whilst a woman with a loudspeaker shouts out the names of the people who have had their prescriptions filled out. Unfortunately she shouts they names out repeatedly, like 18 times or so until they say there are there. Imagine registration at Ferris Buellers school, but all day long.
An Indian lunch followed (most of the volunteers were Indians who were born here and then emigrated, presumably during the rule of Idi Amin), then back to the pharmacy for the rest of the day.
It's much hotter here than in Arusha, and I was still wearing my jeans and boots from the journey, along with a medical coat, so really quite boiling.
After the end of day briefing, I was very happy to come to the hotel and have a shower.
Dinner was at a lovely restaurant called the 2 Friends. A bit of western food cheered me up and the surroundings were beautiful. The conversation was interesting, as all but three people on the trip are Indian, so much of the chat is centred around that.
I didn't know whether to be pleased or hurt when during the discussion about age (one of the boys was born in 1992!) a girl said to me 'there's no way you look that old' on finding out I was 29.
Early rise the next day to be at the camp by 8am, and straight into counting medicines into small bags. And that is pretty much what I did for the next 8 hours. Just before lunch I did take a break from that and start logging meds into the log book instead.
I did manage to smooth a system during the day by changing the 4 stage process of receiving the meds into a 3 stage one, by asking that the stage of logging them into the log book be abolished. It just meant that people were standing around in the sunshine for far too long waiting and getting understandably impatient.
I took lunch at 2.30pm despite not being hungry as I just needed the break, then went back to counting into bags.
Dinner that night was less exciting although it was on the shores of Lake Victoria. The food took two hours to come, and really wasn't particularly special when it did arrive, so a bit of a let down. But the bill was 25,000 shillings each, about £7, so not so bad.
Day 3: Early rise again and got to wash my hair, quite exciting in itself. I was set free from the pharmacy today and was re trained as an optician. There was a bit of unrest amongst the troops,as me being released meant that other people had to take my place and this was not popular, but I think you just have to get on with it. Not everyone shares my view.
The opticians is great as you can give people glasses there & then and improve the quality of peoples lives straight away. Very gratifying. Some people were very funny, like saying that all the glasses that you tried on them were wrong until eventually you would go back to the prescription you started with, and lo and behold, that would be the perfect pair. Exasperating, and either a genuine mistake or an attempt to get frames that they preferred. If the latter, I would give them increasingly ridiculous lenses until they relented.
Also, I learnt to be able to tell quickly what glasses would suit a certain face. Unfortunately there was no mirror (actually, it was fortunate, as we would be there a lot longer otherwise) so they didn't necessarily always agree with you!
My annoyance today was that some of the drugs that we need for the opticians hadn't arrived, this meant that people who had woken to start queuing at 5am to see an optician and are prescribed drugs for their problem then are told to come back the next day for them, and therefore have to queue all over again.
I'm also not entirely happy with the attitude of some of the local doctors. Such as taking more than an hour and a half for lunch when they can see the length of the queues, or insisting on taking lunch at the same time, therefore effectively shutting the opticians down until they are back. Then, after that, leaving at 4pm when there are still queues. It just doesn't feel right to leave people waiting in the sunshine (hot hot hot) for so long. I would rather work through the break, or at least take a quick, staged break and keep people coming through, but that doesn't seem to be the thinking here.
Day 4: More of the same today, in the opticians, trying to give people the glasses they want. What's interesting for me on this trip is learning about 1972 from the point of view of the Indians who were living here at the time. All of the volunteers here but 3 are Indian, and either lived here in 1972, or their parents did. So today, after we went round the central market, we spent some time looking for Shree's parent's shop that they owned before they had to flee the country. They now live in Leicester.
The general thinking is that it was a much better country back then, but since then the infrastructure has been allowed to decay, and the population explosion has just exasperated the situation. It would be interesting to hear the African Ugandan point of view.
It is unimaginably how it must be to be told you must leave the place that you live in, and you are not allowed to take any of the assets you have worked hard for for years. 'The Last King of Scotland' is added to the list of films I must watch again once I am home, joining 'Gorillas in the Mist', 'Hotel Rwanda' and 'Out of Africa'.
The next day was Saturday, and a half day for the camp in which only staff from the factory which is allowing us to use their grounds are invited, supposedly a bit of a break.
Not quite the reality. When we arrived there were lots of women and children queuing and the paediatrician didn't have the heart to turn them away, so they were allowed in along with the factory workers.
My job was as organiser, along with Janice. We had to make sure that the medical books were in sufficient supply (each patient gets one as they register) that everyone was aware that unless they were a paeds or dental case, that their drugs would go direct to the factory the next week, to make sure that the factory didn't send too many staff, etc etc etc. It probably doesn't sound that hard, but with the various things that went wrong that day, Opthalmologists not turning up, non factory workers sneaking in, pharmacy staff going on strike, I did more work that half day than I did the two previous days added together. When I got to have lunch at 2.30, it was a very welcome break.
That afternoon we all went to the Nile resort for a swim and a beer, so the stress of the day slowly eased out of me.
Sunday – Sightseeing day! A late start to accommodate the younger members of the party (I am in a weird age range all of my own, between the teenagers/early twenty somethings and the more mature volunteers, so I kind of swing between the two groups socially, but not quite fitting into either, all at the same time.)
Then to a supermarket to buy supplies for an orphanage that some of the group wanted to visit. After quite a journey trying to find we eventually arrived. Apparently the orphanage had improved a lot since some of the volunteers had visited it the year before, and there were now bunk beds for the children with mosquito nets.
Next stop, to the factory for lunch, vegetarian Indian, as with most days. I like it though. Then off to the source of the Nile (or one of, anyway). A short walk down a tourist shop lined set of steps leads to the water. From the name, I was expecting a spring of some sort, but what it actually is is the point at which Lake Victoria officially becomes the Nile, so really quite wide even at this point. Also, a fifth of Ghandi's ashes were scattered here, so there is a memorial statue to him as well.
A boat took us from here to the Kingfisher Resort, which is laid out beautifully with gardens and swimming pools and little thatch roofed tables. We ate dinner here, and as seems to be the custom, the food arrived 1hr3/4 after we ordered.
For some reason Uganda is leaving me exhausted, I assume it is the heat as I really didn't exert myself at all that day, but again needed an early night.
Monday and Tuesday were my last two days at the camp as my bus left late afternoon on Tuesday. I did a mixture of opticians and pharmacy and general running around type admin. The most important thing I think I achieved in those days was running between different people trying to sort out getting some glasses made for a man called Job who needed a +13.00 prescription in both eyes. I have never looked through glasses that thick, so can only try and imagine what his vision must be like close up, but let's just say that getting these glasses will be life changing for him.
Monday evening we were entertained by a local Muhindi who owns a restaurant in town. Good Indian food, though once a again slow to arrive, meaning that straight after eating we were all quite keen to head home. My last night in Uganda was as comfortable as the rest had been and I got an excellent nights sleep in preparation for a disturbed night on Tuesday.
Lucky I did, as the bus ride this way wasn't quite so idyllic. It was late to arrive at Jinja, so obviously late to leave, we went 30mins then got a puncture so had to change the tyre. The borders were fine, but then my sleeping pill didn't seem to have quite the same effect and I had a restless night. Into Nairobi where I was told the Arusha connection was going to be outside straight away. 2 hours later it did arrive and scooped me off to the Tanzanian border, trying to make up time as it went. Inexplicable the bus waited at the border for ¾ of an hour (normally it's the other way round and you have to rush to make sure it doesn't go without you).
At some point the pill must have kicked in, as the next thing I knew, they were calling out 'Arusha', and I was home.
Sunday, 1 August 2010
Rwanda
A week with my Mum! We jointly decided to meet in Rwanda, for mutually beneficial reasons. For Mum, she gets to see Rwanda, a place that she has wanted to visit since 1994, and for me, I get to visit a different country in East Africa.
Things I didn't realise about Rwanda:
1)How tiny it is! Really small, like the north west of England, or equivalent.
2)How hilly it is. 'The land of a thousand hills' as they call it. Very different from Northern Tanzania, which obviously has mountains (Kili!) but they are few and far between and very much landmarks. In Rwanda driving through is like being in Postman Pat's van going over the hills.
3)That they don't speak Kiswahili. Annoying, as I am just about getting to grips with it and am back to being completely deaf again.
4)The extent of the genocide – I just about remember the news coverage from 1994, and the graphic pictures, but when you realise just how small the country is, you begin to realise that absolutely everyone living in the country at that time was affected. Something that is really hard to comprehend, no doubt impossible without living there and being able to speak to the people.
After a short flight from Kilimanjaro airport, I was met by Mum in Kigali, along with a woman called Pascalina who inexplicably told me her name repeatedly, 4 times. Pascalina passed us onto our driver for the week, Patrick and we drove off for a tour of Kigali.
Now that really didn't take very long. For me, I was overwhelmed by just how developed it was. All very neat and tidy and well maintained roads which people don't drive along like lunatics, and getting used to the hills. But after that, there really isn't anything to see in Kigali at all.
The one 'attraction' that they do have is the Genoside memorial. An excellent remembrance of what happened in 1994, filled with information notes, videos, pictures and artefacts from that year that give testament to what happened. I won't try and recount it here, other than to say that it is almost entirely unbelievable what occurred, and how preventable it would have been, and mainly, the hope and peace that there now is in the country.
After visiting that, and randomly driving into the courtyard of the 'Hotel Rwanda' hotel, Patrick whisked us away into the countryside. The drive to Ruhengeri was about 3 hours and really reinforced the meaning of a land of a thousand hills. Really beautiful scenery and people along the way. I'd like to think that I could recognise a marked difference between the Tanzanian people and the Rwandan Hutus and Tutsis, but I really can't. They all look amazing to me. Patrick was very helpfully pointing things out to us along the way, but my questions were much more about the people and their way of life, how many children they have (about 7- 8 in the villages) how the orphans have coped since the genocide, how people make a living (mainly subsistence farming- about 90%) and things like that, to try and gauge the difference between Rwanda and Tanzania.
The main noticable difference whilst driving along is just how clean and tidy the place is. This can be attributed to 2 things, firstly, plastic bags are banned in Rwanda, and it is actually enforced, so you don't see any around the place, in ditches etc. Secondly, on the last Saturday of every month every citizen has to spend the morning cleaning a certain area of their town or village (or Friday if they are not allowed to work on the sabbath). Such a good idea, so simple but not only does it make a beautiful unspoilt country, but also helps to build the community spirit in the areas where it was all but destroyed 16 years ago.
Ruhengeri is a small market town of not great note, other than it is on the doorstep of the Volcanoes national park, which plays host to about 15 families of Gorillas. Clearly, we couldn't visit Rwanda without going to see the Gorillas!
The next day we rose early and drove up to the briefing, where our driver fought for a good group for us and we were briefed about what to expect. The two golden rules were: don't get closer than 8m, and don't use the flash on your camera. We were put into a group with 6 Americans, 3 nice, 3 not so nice, and set off. It was about two hours fairly easy hike initially through farmland and then, once inside the park, through bamboo which was being cut down ahead of us. We had a guide, some optional porters, a group of trackers and our own personal armed guard in case the and elephants decide to get a bit friendly. After the trekking we came to a clearing and were asked to leave all bags, food and drink and take only our cameras as we were very close to the family.
It's hard to explain the how it feels when you come face to face with the gorillas for the first time, but I guess privileged would sum it up quite well. I don't know if we were particularly lucky or not, but the family we visited had a giant Silverback who was more than happy to allow us to watch him playing with his sons and grooming them. We spent an hour with them, which went very quickly, but we really felt like we had spent some quality time with them. They are very playful creatures, the boys fighting just like human siblings, although with a little more chest beating than is common amongst their cousins. We got lots of photos and then spent the rest of the time just sitting watching them, making sure the Silverback didn't come too close! Very satisfying. Must watch 'Gorillas in the Mist' now, really.
The next day was similar with a trip to see the Golden monkeys. Very funny animals who live in the bamboo trees. The trek to see these was much shorter and we were there in 20 minutes. Again we had an hour with them. They were much harder to photograph as they are pretty agile, so you'll have to take my word for it that they are there. This time our group was 4 Germans and the two of us. For some reason English people seem to be a bit scarce in Rwanda and we didn't see any others the whole trip. Due to the early morning we had finished that excursion by 9.30, so Patrick drove us to a lodge for morning coffee. It was very nice sitting in the gardens pretending we were really staying there, and Mum spent some happy time bird watching. I sunbathed.
After that we went to a trade fair in the stadium where I bought some earrings and Mum bought tea and coffee, then we watched some traditional dancing before heading back for another of our many meals in the hotel. Good food, but we really did exhaust the menu in our time there!
The third full day was also spent in the Volcanoes National Park, this time doing a hike to the top of the second highest volcano, of which I forget the name (Bisoke). Though at 3,711m, not a small climb. That said, they had very much prepared us for the hikes to see the gorillas and monkeys, both of which had been very light hiking with not much height gain. Also, with having conquered Mt. Kili the month before, I felt no trepidation about climbing a mere sub 4000m peak.
How wrong I was.
We were both completely unprepared for the hike that day. The guide the previous day had said it would be about 3 hours up. When she said up, we didn't realise that she literally meant straight up the side of the mountain. Not like Kili at all, no nice meandering paths to get you accustomed to the altitude. Not at all. Instead a sheer climb up steep muddy slopes. No man made steps, no nice benches to sit on, no long drop toilet, just us and the mountain.
Mum and I were sharing a day bag, and as this was a longer day we had 2 litres of water, a packed lunch, walking sticks and numerous spare layers in it. I was the designated carrier up the hill, but after about an hour it became clear that the $10 it would cost to hire a porter would be money very well spent.
After about 2 hours of this high CV work out along with a good thigh and bum workout, the guide said we were almost half way up. What! That could not be possible. We started quizzing him about the altitude we had gained so far and mentally working out how much further that meant we had to go, surely he was lying. Surely.
The answer was yes, he was a bit, and then when we came out of the rainforest into a grassy clearing, we realised that there really couldn't be all that much further to go. We were right, it was 20m. We were both exhausted, and very happy to see the crater lake emerge from the cloud before us. An hours picnic was next whilst we girded ourselves for the trip down. Whilst quicker, this had its own obstacles.
Mum's knees being two of them. The natural steps really were steep, ie for the two of us not particularly long limbed creatures, well over knee height. On the way up this was a work out, on the way down it was more of a tumble down a mud slide. Somehow I managed to stay upright, but I think I was the only one. Most people were filthy by the end after several falls, and Mum was lead down the whole way by a porter. She would like me to point out at this stage though, that she is 61, and no one else on the hike was over 35.
The hike took us 7 hours in total, and we were both whacked by the end, though we made a mental note that our guide fell asleep on the car ride down.
The next day took us to Lake Kivu. The hotel we were in Ruhengeri had been nice, but the one at Lake Kivu really was something special. It was on the shores of the lake, with a private beach as well as a swimming pool and beautiful gardens. I was very much looking forwards to 3 days relaxation and sunbathing. Unfortunately this was slightly dashed by the rain, but I got a couple of good sessions in.
The rain wasn't the only disturbance though, the other was the presence of a UNHCR conference in the same hotel. Cue outrage from all the other guests that a public authority such as that would stump up for a weeks retreat in one of the smartest hotels in Rwanda for all of it's Kigali staff. Almost unbelievable. This outrage apart, they were also pretty speedy when it came to the meal times. If you timed your arrival at dinner just 5 minutes late it was like there had been some kind of ram raid on the kitchen and there were mere scraps left. Unfortunately we only realised by the second night that we could eat in the bar and order a la carte instead, much preferable.
Other than enjoying the view, the most notable thing we did at Lake Kivu was a morning trip over the border to the Democratic Republic of Congo. We had to buy visa's, of course,and Patrick was not allowed to drive us into a different country, so we had to walk across and one of his friends picked us up and drove us around. We were in the city of Goma and the contrast to the Rwandan side was palpable.
It was clearly much poorer, more crowded, dirtier and overrun with UN staff and troops. We were really not allowed out of the car, as they considered it too dangerous, and Patrick's friend took all our photos for us, as people would not react well to tourists taking them. Goma had also suffered from a lava flow over the city in 2002. This was clearly still evident and there were piles of lava rubble everywhere, and most roads were unpaved.
The public beach on the Rwanda side had been a place of volleyball, swimming and sunbathing. In Goma it was basically a cross between a market and a laundry.
There were 'guns not allowed' signs everywhere and the main form of transport other than UN Landcruisers were home-made wooden bikes for transporting goods. Pretty ingenious actually, but probably not the sign of a wealthy country. A really interesting trip – good to see the difference a border can make.
That evening we fought to stay awake for the world cup final (one of us won this battle, the other didn't!).
And that was really the end of the trip. The next day we drove back to Kigali slowly, exactly retracing the route we had come in and saw it all again. Still as stunning the second time around. Due to flight issues I had a night in Kigali that night, but Mum started her laborious trip home, so she saw me to my hotel room and we said a quick but tearful goodbye.
A night in Kigali on your own is not a particularly thrilling prospect, unfortunately, so I bought some picnic food with small change and watched the best that the 3 channels had to offer. Not much. Early night in preparation for my 4am wake up call.
The flight home (is Arusha home?!) was pretty cool, as on the approach we had an excellent view of Mount Kili and Meru and the pilot allowed all 7 of us that were on the flight into the cockpit to take photos.
Back to work!
Things I didn't realise about Rwanda:
1)How tiny it is! Really small, like the north west of England, or equivalent.
2)How hilly it is. 'The land of a thousand hills' as they call it. Very different from Northern Tanzania, which obviously has mountains (Kili!) but they are few and far between and very much landmarks. In Rwanda driving through is like being in Postman Pat's van going over the hills.
3)That they don't speak Kiswahili. Annoying, as I am just about getting to grips with it and am back to being completely deaf again.
4)The extent of the genocide – I just about remember the news coverage from 1994, and the graphic pictures, but when you realise just how small the country is, you begin to realise that absolutely everyone living in the country at that time was affected. Something that is really hard to comprehend, no doubt impossible without living there and being able to speak to the people.
After a short flight from Kilimanjaro airport, I was met by Mum in Kigali, along with a woman called Pascalina who inexplicably told me her name repeatedly, 4 times. Pascalina passed us onto our driver for the week, Patrick and we drove off for a tour of Kigali.
Now that really didn't take very long. For me, I was overwhelmed by just how developed it was. All very neat and tidy and well maintained roads which people don't drive along like lunatics, and getting used to the hills. But after that, there really isn't anything to see in Kigali at all.
The one 'attraction' that they do have is the Genoside memorial. An excellent remembrance of what happened in 1994, filled with information notes, videos, pictures and artefacts from that year that give testament to what happened. I won't try and recount it here, other than to say that it is almost entirely unbelievable what occurred, and how preventable it would have been, and mainly, the hope and peace that there now is in the country.
After visiting that, and randomly driving into the courtyard of the 'Hotel Rwanda' hotel, Patrick whisked us away into the countryside. The drive to Ruhengeri was about 3 hours and really reinforced the meaning of a land of a thousand hills. Really beautiful scenery and people along the way. I'd like to think that I could recognise a marked difference between the Tanzanian people and the Rwandan Hutus and Tutsis, but I really can't. They all look amazing to me. Patrick was very helpfully pointing things out to us along the way, but my questions were much more about the people and their way of life, how many children they have (about 7- 8 in the villages) how the orphans have coped since the genocide, how people make a living (mainly subsistence farming- about 90%) and things like that, to try and gauge the difference between Rwanda and Tanzania.
The main noticable difference whilst driving along is just how clean and tidy the place is. This can be attributed to 2 things, firstly, plastic bags are banned in Rwanda, and it is actually enforced, so you don't see any around the place, in ditches etc. Secondly, on the last Saturday of every month every citizen has to spend the morning cleaning a certain area of their town or village (or Friday if they are not allowed to work on the sabbath). Such a good idea, so simple but not only does it make a beautiful unspoilt country, but also helps to build the community spirit in the areas where it was all but destroyed 16 years ago.
Ruhengeri is a small market town of not great note, other than it is on the doorstep of the Volcanoes national park, which plays host to about 15 families of Gorillas. Clearly, we couldn't visit Rwanda without going to see the Gorillas!
The next day we rose early and drove up to the briefing, where our driver fought for a good group for us and we were briefed about what to expect. The two golden rules were: don't get closer than 8m, and don't use the flash on your camera. We were put into a group with 6 Americans, 3 nice, 3 not so nice, and set off. It was about two hours fairly easy hike initially through farmland and then, once inside the park, through bamboo which was being cut down ahead of us. We had a guide, some optional porters, a group of trackers and our own personal armed guard in case the and elephants decide to get a bit friendly. After the trekking we came to a clearing and were asked to leave all bags, food and drink and take only our cameras as we were very close to the family.
It's hard to explain the how it feels when you come face to face with the gorillas for the first time, but I guess privileged would sum it up quite well. I don't know if we were particularly lucky or not, but the family we visited had a giant Silverback who was more than happy to allow us to watch him playing with his sons and grooming them. We spent an hour with them, which went very quickly, but we really felt like we had spent some quality time with them. They are very playful creatures, the boys fighting just like human siblings, although with a little more chest beating than is common amongst their cousins. We got lots of photos and then spent the rest of the time just sitting watching them, making sure the Silverback didn't come too close! Very satisfying. Must watch 'Gorillas in the Mist' now, really.
The next day was similar with a trip to see the Golden monkeys. Very funny animals who live in the bamboo trees. The trek to see these was much shorter and we were there in 20 minutes. Again we had an hour with them. They were much harder to photograph as they are pretty agile, so you'll have to take my word for it that they are there. This time our group was 4 Germans and the two of us. For some reason English people seem to be a bit scarce in Rwanda and we didn't see any others the whole trip. Due to the early morning we had finished that excursion by 9.30, so Patrick drove us to a lodge for morning coffee. It was very nice sitting in the gardens pretending we were really staying there, and Mum spent some happy time bird watching. I sunbathed.
After that we went to a trade fair in the stadium where I bought some earrings and Mum bought tea and coffee, then we watched some traditional dancing before heading back for another of our many meals in the hotel. Good food, but we really did exhaust the menu in our time there!
The third full day was also spent in the Volcanoes National Park, this time doing a hike to the top of the second highest volcano, of which I forget the name (Bisoke). Though at 3,711m, not a small climb. That said, they had very much prepared us for the hikes to see the gorillas and monkeys, both of which had been very light hiking with not much height gain. Also, with having conquered Mt. Kili the month before, I felt no trepidation about climbing a mere sub 4000m peak.
How wrong I was.
We were both completely unprepared for the hike that day. The guide the previous day had said it would be about 3 hours up. When she said up, we didn't realise that she literally meant straight up the side of the mountain. Not like Kili at all, no nice meandering paths to get you accustomed to the altitude. Not at all. Instead a sheer climb up steep muddy slopes. No man made steps, no nice benches to sit on, no long drop toilet, just us and the mountain.
Mum and I were sharing a day bag, and as this was a longer day we had 2 litres of water, a packed lunch, walking sticks and numerous spare layers in it. I was the designated carrier up the hill, but after about an hour it became clear that the $10 it would cost to hire a porter would be money very well spent.
After about 2 hours of this high CV work out along with a good thigh and bum workout, the guide said we were almost half way up. What! That could not be possible. We started quizzing him about the altitude we had gained so far and mentally working out how much further that meant we had to go, surely he was lying. Surely.
The answer was yes, he was a bit, and then when we came out of the rainforest into a grassy clearing, we realised that there really couldn't be all that much further to go. We were right, it was 20m. We were both exhausted, and very happy to see the crater lake emerge from the cloud before us. An hours picnic was next whilst we girded ourselves for the trip down. Whilst quicker, this had its own obstacles.
Mum's knees being two of them. The natural steps really were steep, ie for the two of us not particularly long limbed creatures, well over knee height. On the way up this was a work out, on the way down it was more of a tumble down a mud slide. Somehow I managed to stay upright, but I think I was the only one. Most people were filthy by the end after several falls, and Mum was lead down the whole way by a porter. She would like me to point out at this stage though, that she is 61, and no one else on the hike was over 35.
The hike took us 7 hours in total, and we were both whacked by the end, though we made a mental note that our guide fell asleep on the car ride down.
The next day took us to Lake Kivu. The hotel we were in Ruhengeri had been nice, but the one at Lake Kivu really was something special. It was on the shores of the lake, with a private beach as well as a swimming pool and beautiful gardens. I was very much looking forwards to 3 days relaxation and sunbathing. Unfortunately this was slightly dashed by the rain, but I got a couple of good sessions in.
The rain wasn't the only disturbance though, the other was the presence of a UNHCR conference in the same hotel. Cue outrage from all the other guests that a public authority such as that would stump up for a weeks retreat in one of the smartest hotels in Rwanda for all of it's Kigali staff. Almost unbelievable. This outrage apart, they were also pretty speedy when it came to the meal times. If you timed your arrival at dinner just 5 minutes late it was like there had been some kind of ram raid on the kitchen and there were mere scraps left. Unfortunately we only realised by the second night that we could eat in the bar and order a la carte instead, much preferable.
Other than enjoying the view, the most notable thing we did at Lake Kivu was a morning trip over the border to the Democratic Republic of Congo. We had to buy visa's, of course,and Patrick was not allowed to drive us into a different country, so we had to walk across and one of his friends picked us up and drove us around. We were in the city of Goma and the contrast to the Rwandan side was palpable.
It was clearly much poorer, more crowded, dirtier and overrun with UN staff and troops. We were really not allowed out of the car, as they considered it too dangerous, and Patrick's friend took all our photos for us, as people would not react well to tourists taking them. Goma had also suffered from a lava flow over the city in 2002. This was clearly still evident and there were piles of lava rubble everywhere, and most roads were unpaved.
The public beach on the Rwanda side had been a place of volleyball, swimming and sunbathing. In Goma it was basically a cross between a market and a laundry.
There were 'guns not allowed' signs everywhere and the main form of transport other than UN Landcruisers were home-made wooden bikes for transporting goods. Pretty ingenious actually, but probably not the sign of a wealthy country. A really interesting trip – good to see the difference a border can make.
That evening we fought to stay awake for the world cup final (one of us won this battle, the other didn't!).
And that was really the end of the trip. The next day we drove back to Kigali slowly, exactly retracing the route we had come in and saw it all again. Still as stunning the second time around. Due to flight issues I had a night in Kigali that night, but Mum started her laborious trip home, so she saw me to my hotel room and we said a quick but tearful goodbye.
A night in Kigali on your own is not a particularly thrilling prospect, unfortunately, so I bought some picnic food with small change and watched the best that the 3 channels had to offer. Not much. Early night in preparation for my 4am wake up call.
The flight home (is Arusha home?!) was pretty cool, as on the approach we had an excellent view of Mount Kili and Meru and the pilot allowed all 7 of us that were on the flight into the cockpit to take photos.
Back to work!
Friday, 23 July 2010
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