Disclaimer: This post was meant to be published at the beginning of the week, but we lost power and internet for a few days. Today is the first time I've been able to use my computer since Monday. Enjoy!
Everyone says that students who study abroad in Europe have
the most fun because they get to backpack through different countries. Newsflash: students in Africa can
travel too. In fact, Julia and I backpacked all over Uganda these past two
weekends when we had time off from work.
Our first weekend was spent in Kampala, the capital of
Uganda. This buzzing city is the Ugandan equivalent of Nairobi. Shanti Uganda
hosted an art benefit that Friday to highlight the work of local artists and
raise money to expand the birth house. Julia and I spent a night at a hostel
with the other interns and had the rest of the weekend free to explore.
Perhaps the best part of exploring Kampala was our mode of
transportation. Whereas Nairobi is primarily dominated by matatus, Kampala is
overrun by boda-bodas. Also known
as piki-pikis in Kenya, these motorcycles act as taxis. In other words, you pay a small fee to
hop on the back of a motorbike and ride around the city. It’s one of the most
terrifying things I’ve ever done…and I loved it! It’s such a thrill! It feels
like an amusement park ride— you’re dodging cars along with hundreds of other
bikes zipping around you—except that there’s no seatbelt and one wrong move
could end your life. Rest assured Mom and Dad—I’m alive and well. Julia and I
had a blast zooming around the city, riding tandem on the backs of these death
vehicles.
Our friend Rachel riding away on a boda-boda
Our first stop on our self-navigated tour was the Baha’i
temple. Julia had been to the one
in Evanston, IL and was eager to visit another one thousands of miles
away. We had our boda-boda drop us
at the entrance, and we had to walk up a large hill to actually reach the
temple. Before stepping inside, a
groundskeeper demanded that we turn off our phones and remain completely
silent; otherwise we would ruin the calm environment. Whenever anyone tells me
that I can’t make a sound, I usually erupt in laughter. It makes no sense. When
someone tells you to shut up or you’ll ruin the atmosphere of a sacred space,
it’s not usually intended as a joke. It’s like when something tragic happens
and you’re so overwhelmed that your only response would be to cry or laugh—two
extreme emotions where one is significantly more appropriate for the occasion.
My first instinct is usually to laugh, hence why I should be placed in an
insane asylum. Who wants someone cackling at his or her great-grandmother’s
dentist’s wife’s funeral? Long story short—I had a very difficult time
smothering my chuckles in the serene Baha’i temple. That being said, it was
breathtakingly beautiful and extremely peaceful. The Bahai faith preaches equality and balance, and as a
proud feminist I’m all about equality. The focus on internal balance and
serenity reminded me of what yoga teaches its students, and on our way out of
the temple I may or may not have whispered “Namaste” to the groundskeeper.
In front of the Baha'i temple
Our next stop was the Gaddafi Mosque. This was a secular excursion so Julia
and I wanted to give each religious site an equal opportunity to be
admired. Upon entering the gates,
we were greeted by a Muslim woman who demanded we give her 10,000 shillings ($4
US) for a tour. She didn’t even
have a nametag! How were we supposed to know if she was legit or ripping us
off? She told us we must pay and put on the proper head and leg coverings,
otherwise we wouldn’t be allowed inside. We asked if we could just walk around
the outside. No. Could we simply use
the restroom? No, pay first then go.
Finally we caved and handed over the cash. She gave us each a head covering and matching skirt. Women
aren’t allowed to wear pants. That
would mean they are trying to be like men and we certainly can’t have that. Placing
our frustrations with gender norms aside, we dressed up in our new threads and
met up with our tour guide. He took us inside the mosque and told us about Islam,
how to get into prayer position, and he even sang us some chants. Afterward, he
took us to the top of the watchtower. 306 steps later, we were overlooking all
of Kampala. It was breathtaking and reminded me of being on top of the ICC in
Nairobi. All in all, I would say
Kampala is smaller and slightly more spread out than Nairobi. It’s impressive
nonetheless.
Perfecting our prayer positions
At the top of the watchtower, overlooking Kampala
Our final stop was at the tombs of the first four Ugandan
kings and their ancestors. We paid just as much as we did at the mosque, and it
was not nearly as impressive. In fact, the tombs themselves were under
renovation! We couldn’t see anything significant because there was a plastic
shield and caution tape around the outside. In addition, our tour guide was not
nearly as entertaining as the one we had at the mosque. His smile was subpar
and he didn’t sing for us.
A picture of a picture of the kings…because we couldn’t get
a picture of the tombs
And now let me tell you about the food. Oh my god, the food!
It was incredible! One of the other interns was about to go home to Canada
after having worked at Shanti for four months, so our weekend in Kampala was
also a celebration for her. She is my kind of girl because, like me, she is a
foodie! Every weekend she would leave Kasana to go to Kampala, supposedly to
see friends but mainly to try different restaurants. And so, for her last
weekend in Kampala she planned three days worth of fine dining for our entire
group. The first night, after the art fundraiser, we went to an Italian
restaurant. I shared a pizza that was just alright, but my dessert was unbelievable!
After four months without a memorable dessert, I was awestruck by the chocolate
lava cake placed before me. It
oozed warm chocolate fudge out of its center and contrasted perfectly with the
scoop of vanilla ice cream served beside it. The next night we went to a Thai
restaurant and shared pad thai, cashew curry, and ginger curry. They were all
delicious and a nice change of pace from the pasta and chapatti we had been
eating in Kasana. But by far the
best meal we ate was brunch the very next day. Our departing intern raved about this Mediterranean
restaurant’s smoked salmon and Greek salad, so Julia and I had no choice but to
share the two plates. I was served
a mound of delicious, pink smoked salmon.
I had never seen that much smoked salmon before—not even at a Yom Kippur
break fast. It was succulent, salty, and delicious. The Greek salad was less
memorable but I found no faults with it. The vegetables were ripe and crisp.
Seeing at this might be the last upscale meal I would enjoy in East Africa, I
had no choice but to order dessert.
I am a sucker for tiramisu, but the ones I’ve tried in Kenya were quite
disappointing. Most of them were drenched in amaretto and I left the restaurant
feeling tipsy rather than satisfied.
However, I was feeling ambitious and took a leap of faith in the
Mediterranean-cooking Ugandan chef.
He didn’t let me down and my tiramisu came out perfectly moist, with
just the right balance of coffee and amaretto flavoring. Julia ordered an
INCREDIBLE chocolate mousse that was thick and rich and utterly delicious. I
have to admit I was a bit envious of her selection, but being a good friend she
saved me a taste. It was just
enough to satisfy my chocolate sweet tooth that never seems to go away.
Chocolate bliss
Smoked salmon
Tiramisu
Julia has a new passion for taking pictures of food
(all photos courtesy of her)
This past weekend, after finally overcoming our food coma,
Julia and I ventured to Jinja to meet up with our friends who are completing
their IDS there. It was great to see some familiar faces and they showed us all
around the town. In many ways it reminded me of a college town, marked by its
popular main street lined with shops, restaurants, and supermarkets. Of course college towns don’t usually
have street vendors making rolexes for 1500 shillings. No, no—these aren’t the overpriced gold
watches wealthy American tycoons have come to know and love. These are fried
eggs rolled up into a chapatti.
They should probably be called roll-eggs, but I suppose rolex is easier
to pronounce. They’re delicious, somewhat nutritious, and great for when you’re
on the go. It’s the Ugandan equivalent of a breakfast burrito.
Jinja city gals walking to town
Anyway, we had a great weekend hanging out with our fellow
classmates who showed us around the town, shopped with us in the markets, and
introduced us to some great restaurants. On Friday Julia and I went whitewater
rafting on the Nile River, a must-do when you’re in Jinja. I was psyched! I
have been rafting before and I would jump at any chance to raft Class 5 rapids.
Our Jinja friends had gone rafting the week before and prepped us for what we
were in for. Mainly they warned us to remain calm. Because the rapids are so big, we were bound to have our
raft flipped by a wave, in which case we would be tossed around under water and
convinced that our lives were about to end. In reality, we were wearing life jackets and helmets and
regardless of how we got thrown out of the boat, we would reach the surface of
the water within a few seconds.
The last supper
Julia and I were placed in a raft with an older couple from
South Carolina. They were leading a trip of medical students to a clinic in
rural Uganda, and they had a few days to themselves before their group
arrived. They were clearly fit and
had travelled a lot. I was eager to go down the biggest rapids and flip over as
much as possible. Julia and the older man thought it best to let nature take
its course and not rush into a big rapid if we weren’t already headed that way.
The woman wanted to take the safest route possible. I suppose our rafting guide
took a liking to me because every time I said “flip”, we flipped. I’ll be
honest—at times I did feel like my life was flashing before my eyes. But once
we got back into the raft and were floating along calm waters, I was beaming
with excitement and eager to do it again. Our raft flipped a total of three
times and I was more than satisfied.
After we finished rafting, the company provided us with a delicious meal
and free beer. It was the perfect ending to an exciting, adrenaline-filled day.
One of the only pictures where my face isn't blocked by a wave
The following afternoon we headed back to Kampala en route
to Kasana. We met up with another student from our group who is working with
prostitutes in the slums. She told
us stories of her independent study over pizzas and salad. The following
morning we ventured to the Mengo Palace before heading home. This is the king’s
former home now used as a celebration venue for wealthy families in Kampala.
The prince actually had his wedding reception there the previous weekend when
we were in the city. We even saw the wedding procession of cars driving through
the city on their way to the palace.
Those ants in front of the palace are us
(that's what happens when you ask your tour guide to take a picture of you in front of the entire palace)
Finally, after a long weekend of travelling between towns,
catching matatus and riding along in boda-bodas, we arrived back in Kasana. As
quiet and desolate as it is compared to the other two places we visited in
Uganda, I have to say I’ve come to really love it. It’s utterly peaceful and I
missed the neighborhood children greeting me. Of course, when we arrived back
at home the floor was being retiled. Ergo, the kitchen (i.e. refrigerator and
gas camping stove) was in our bedroom.
Even so, I’m glad to be back and it will be hard to say goodbye come
Saturday. It’s crazy how quickly time flies.
There are less than two weeks left until my study abroad is
complete. Luckily my family is
coming afterward to travel around Kenya with me, so I won’t have to say goodbye
to Africa just yet.
Kwaheri ya kuonana!
BREAKING NEWS: Four babies were born while Julia and I were
away this past weekend. Yesterday I got to hold one of them and, with the help
of Sister Mary (the head midwife), we convinced the mother to name her baby
Emma. She is the cutest bundle of joy and I wish I could take her home with me.
I must say—witnessing a birth and having a baby named after me has made this
experience the best IDS ever!
Say hello to my beautiful namesake, Emma
