Greenest place on Earth

I’ve been to some very green places but I don’t think anywhere can top Uganda. It was breathtakingly, beautifully green. When I was a child blue was my favorite color but over the last ten to fifteen years I’ve realized it’s green - few things give me the same sense of calm as being outdoors in a green place. So Uganda was pretty much perfection.

After our gorilla trek we were all parched and craving a combo of sugar and water - good old Coca Cola out of a glass bottle was in order. We wandered down to the small hut just a short distance from where we were parked and the woman was happy to serve us some cold fizzy drinks. Unfortunately our driver Jasper discovered that our front tire was dangerously low and when he changed it out for the spare, we found the spare to be low as well, so our adventures for the day were not over - we drove down into the village and we all piled out of the van while Jasper went off to attend to the tire. It began to sprinkle so the six of us huddled under the roof of a shop when we realized that we mzungus were a bit of an attraction. We had attracted some attention when six tall white people climbed out of the van but the local children were particularly fascinated. Their curiosity was endearing, a few of them peeking around corners and shouting “hellllooo”. One very confident little girl approached us and asked us our names. Before we knew it, the three children had turned to ten and the rain came down even harder. What started off as curious introductions turned into a longer term gathering facilitated by the rain. They couldn’t speak much English so I told them I’d sing them a song if they would sing one for us. I sang the “Isty Bitsy Spider” and they sang a song they must have learned in school about loving an education. It was very sweet - and quite long! Then we sang them “Old MacDonald” and they got a good laugh at all the mzungus making animal noises. 

The exhaustion of the day was creeping up on us and we were desperate to find a seat so we popped into a bar in the next building over. It was a tiny place and the beer was warm but it was dry and had stools to give our legs a rest and a friendly owner (see the photo gallery). We nursed our warm beers while the rain continued until finally the wheel was repaired and pumped back up (with what appeared to be a bike pump) and we were finally on our way. I had hoped we would arrive back at camp during the daylight so I could get a better idea of my surroundings but the rain continued, forcing us to take the longer route back and it was dark by the time we got to the boat.

We were all a little forlorn when we arrived at the boat and it was still raining. A good amount of water had to be bailed out of the bottom of the boat before we climbed in and the twenty minute boat ride felt like forever as the rain continued to drench us. I had ambitions of a shower to rid myself of the days sweat and grime and I was well aware that the solar heated shower would be cold at this point, but it still seemed feasible. However, this was my first experience showering at this camp and the charm of the open top shower with the magnificent view of the lake was lost when there was no place to keep a towel dry or hang anything without it getting soaked by the rain. I opted for a “shower” of baby wipes and a change into dry clothes - the heaviest layers I had with me. Our group met for dinner in the canteen but it wasn’t particularly festive as we were all chilled to the bone and exhausted so we had our meals and headed off to bed not long after.

I looked forward to a relaxing morning and planned to sleep in but three brazen little birds with the most obnoxious call kept that from happening. They seemed to enjoy perching on the deck outside my geo-dome and I tried to ignore them but they were LOUD! One of them hopped into the actual entryway of the hut and continued to call so I assumed it was time for me to get out of bed. (see photos of the bird with the orange belly) The sky was overcast but the sun was peeking through so I hung my still-wet clothes over the side of the deck and headed off to breakfast.

The dishes at the canteen were named with a sense of humor and as unadventurous as this particular dish sounded, I was in the mood for Homer’s Flapjacks. They were amazing - much thicker than any pancakes than I’ve ever had - almost 3/4” thick but crunchy and toasted on each side and fluffy inside. And the “European” coffee was almost overwhelmingly rich but the steamed milk perfected it. It was looking to be a fantastic day. Once the sun warmed up the water, I’d take a shower and maybe go for an adventure in a dugout canoe or hike to the village on the other side of the island.

After a leisurely breakfast I decided to wash a few of the really filthy items from the day before so they could dry in the sun. Just as I finished laying the clean items on the deck I heard the unmistakable rumble of thunder and I could see the rain advancing towards our island from across the lake, rippling the quiet surface with a wall of drops. I moved all of the damp clothes under the roof of my geo-dome, draping them over chairs and mosquito nets and made my way back to the canteen. Before I knew it, pea sized hail was pounding onto the metal roof of the canteen and it was astoundingly loud. A few other people were lingering about and we all exchanged worried glances. The hail turned to rain after about five minutes but the rain continued - for hours and hours. Lighting and thunder and a steady rain for almost six hours. I was disappointed that my shower was clearly not in the forecast but thankful that I hadn’t set off on one of my potential adventures. All in all it could have been far worse - my new British friends taught me a card game called Farmer’s Whit, which I’m now obsessed to play again, and we shared a few bottles of wine while we rode out the slow-moving storm in the canteen. After the exertion of the day before, there were worse ways to spend the day - at least the weather provided a valid excuse to be lazy and, despite the cold and dampness, enjoy the still beautiful panorama of Lake Bunyonyi. 

My clothes never fully dried and I needed an extra blanket that night since it was cold enough to see my breath, but the morning brought the return of sunshine and my little birdie wake-up call. I had the chance to have another leisurely breakfast, and can’t even pretend that I was able to ignore the call of Homer’s Flapjacks. I had my first opportunity to really appreciate the beauty of the lake in the sunlight and thoroughly enjoyed the boat ride back to the mainland before we started the drive back to Kigali. I was still in complete awe of the magnificent verdant landscape of Uganda and feel compelled to return in the future. The border crossing was again somewhat lengthy, including a temperature screening (as a form of Ebola prevention) before being allowed into Rwanda. We had some misadventures finding my hotel in Kigali; I’ve rarely felt like four hours in a car is more harrying than flying (other than the four hours trips in traffic between DC and NYC) but I suppose it’s the dirt roads. By the time I got to my hotel I wanted to run from the vehicle. It might also have had something to do with the fact that I hadn’t had a chance to shower since I left Madagascar. My baby wipes shower post-gorilla trekking didn’t really cut it. It was late afternoon by the time I arrived in Kigali so unfortunately I didn’t have the opportunity to see much of the city. I holed up in my hotel and took advantage of the hot shower and decent wifi and wondered what laid ahead of me - officially half-way through my trip. I was excited to have a bigger stretch of time in one place and with one group of students. I was curious about life in a more urban environment after so much time enjoying the natural beauty of these rural areas. I hoped for a unique home stay experience with a kind family and interesting volunteers. To be continued…