Weekend Adventures in Uganda

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