Uganda or Bust

I like the freedom that comes with being an intern. Freedom in the sense, that you have no set schedule and freedom in that you are allowed to explore and learn from your surroundings, take for example last weekend.

Mike the other summer intern is leaving in a week to return to the states, so for the past month we had been scheming trying to plan a grand adventure before he departed. One of our co workers alerted to the fact that the Nile river begins in Uganda and that there are opportunities to congregate with other muzungoo (Name less white person), load yourself up in rubber boats, paddle until the river attempts to eat you, only knocking you from your boat sending you further downstream where you repeat this process for several hours. All I needed to hear was white water rafting and Nile, I would figure out the logistical details later. In my mind there is nothing cooler than being able to tell people I conquered Rwanda and the Nile on my summer vacation, plus if you’re into using cheesy lines to meet women this should probably be at the top of the list.

For the last 2 weeks when we were not working we were hammering out the detail on our trip to Uganda, it was Uganda or bust. To see how this trip might go, the weekend before last we had planned a shorter excursion to the rain forest, with the idea being that we would go on the much advertised waterfall hike; in reality it was a chance for Mike to see a waterfall and me to look for monkeys. Pulling this off would prove to be an all weekend ordeal with Saturday spent traveling to the capital where we would buy tickets for a special bus, not the short bus, but the only bus that went to the rain forest, or so we thought. Having to wake up at dawn and wait for the bus to come collect us at the gas station in Butare, we were surrounded by people in their Sunday best waiting for rides to church while we were dressed in shorts and sneakers, we stood out. When the bus finally arrived it was packed to the brim only two seats remained with three passengers needing a ride. The correct response to that situation is don’t deliberate throw your body in the seat while tossing your bag in the other, so as to save it for your buddy. It worked out for Mike and I, however the young lady also needing a ride was not going to stand for it and proceed to screech at us in her language bringing the bus to a standstill, the best I could do was ease up and create a crack that she could hover in until someone got off.

It important to note that this is the first time we had taken public transportation by ourselves, we soon realized that we had no idea how to tell the bus to stop and that we were operating under the assumption that it would stop at the rain forest and let us off, that was a big assumption. About an hour into our trip we found ourselves traveling through the middle of the rain forest, where we saw many monkeys from inside the bus, not what I was going for but I figured the bus would stop at any minute to let me out. It did not, instead it proceeded to travel towards the Congo. Anyone following world affairs can tell you this is not a place you want to be. Luckily for Mike and I the bus stopped before we reached the boarder. Immediately we got off and bought a bus ticket home. Having lunch on the Congolese boarder it was apparent that if we were to pull off the trip to Uganda, we would have to up our game a little and come at our trip with a better plan.

With only a week left to plan we decided to not take any chances and booked ourselves two VIP tickets on the Jaguar bus line, they guaranteed us that we would indeed reach Kampala, Uganda the city where we would be picked up the following day and taken to river base where we would finally locate the windmill we had been chasing for so long. Preparing for this trip we were aware that traveling time would be 12 hours from Butare to Kampala, in our mind it was okay we were traveling VIP. Again making assumptions we thought VIP meant luxury. VIP in Africa means you get a bottle of water 6 hours into the trip The trip to the Ugandan boarder was not bad, the roads are good and the scenery is quite nice, with my Ipod in hand I barley even noticed the loud church music that was being pumped through the speaker.

Some things to note about Rwanda, plastic bags are outlawed, the roads are in good condition and citizens are required to perform community clean up the last Saturday of every month as a result Rwanda is a clean and comfortable country to live in. Uganda has none of the above; once we crossed the border in the bus it became apparent that things changed drastically. Roads became rough and sometimes nonexistent and we were inundated with vendors trying to push street food on us, something that is also outlawed in Rwanda. It’s not that Uganda is a bad place, it’s not; but the differences between the two countries are too apparent not to write about.

With the lack of paved roads the trip became a tad more uncomfortable, but I was dedicated, all I could think about was conquering the Nile, nothing would keep me from that. Occasionally the bus would stop when we would meet traffic in road side villages, giving the street vendors to opportunity to sell us food through the opened bus windows. Having my bottle of water and some crackers I was not all that hungry, Mike on the other hand became tempted and bought a cob of roasted corn, a snack I had enjoyed many time in the Caribbean, I myself almost indulged, but the bus pulled away before I had the chance. I did not know it at the time but I would be thankful for this later.

Preparing for this trip we were told that, once we reached the outskirts of Kampala we would hit serious traffic where we would sit for about an hour. 11 hours into the trip we hit serious traffic, I was pretty sure this was the outskirts of Kampala but one could never be too sure. Mike on the other hand was not going to wait around to find out, you see the corn he enjoyed earlier decided to take its revenge, or maybe it was Raymond, either way within seconds of hitting traffic Mike Jumped up, told me to take care of the luggage and said he had pressing matters he needed to attend to . Before I knew it Mike was off the bus and searching for a washroom in what I hoped was the outskirts of Kampala; otherwise he was searching for a washroom in a random village in Uganda, I had no plan on what to do if that was the case. Luckily for us both we were indeed in Kampala and the youth hostel where we would spend the night was only a few miles from where mike bailed out.

Uganda is an hour ahead of Rwanda in time, we were unaware. The rafting company was to come for us at 7 the following morning, I had my alarm set for 6 Rwanda time. I was still asleep when the rafting company arrived and poor Mike had been taking care of pressing matters all night, but I had come too far to give up now. Throwing some clothes on, Mike and I stumbled to the bus where we would travel another hour to river base completing our quest.