On Fashion, Bathing, and Vanity

What to Wear...
People in Uganda are generally very smart dressers. In fact, I was lounging around the housing compound one weekend in my usual pair of shorts and t-shirt that I wear solely around the home when I offered to run a quick errand for the family. The errand consisted of walking to a nearby shop (about a 10-15 min. round-trip walk) to pick something up. I figured I could just go as I was. As I was leaving, Mariam exclaimed, "You're going out in THAT?" Well. I wasn't 'going out'. I was running to the store (and yes, I did go in my shorts which DID feel weird). But, the point is that nobody leaves home without looking halfway decent.

Women at a ceremony, dressed in gomezi

When out and about at work or in Town, the majority of women generally wear knee-length (or longer) skirts and blouses or polo shirts, or suits. While trousers aren't as wide-spread in women's wardrobes, women do wear them. Some women, especially older women, often wear a gomezi, the traditional outfit which is custom-made out of a variety of awesome fabrics and consists of a wide belt, kind of vaguely like the Japanese obi, but tied in the front. On a side note: fabric here is awesome and gorgeous and plentiful, which gives me a 'fabric high'. And let us not forget the accessories: bangles, necklaces, earrings ('ear pins') -- the works. Men wear slacks and dress shirts (ties are optional although commonplace) for the most part. Of course, you get your t-shirt and jeans combos from both men and women but everyone is always so tidy. All articles of clothing are usually meticulously pressed and creased (I'm sure clothing would always be pressed, if there was a constant source of power....). And you don't really see anybody wearing shorts unless you're a primary-school-aged little boy or a teenaged male emulating some musician. The no-shorts situation makes Pan a bit sad, but he's been surviving. The way people take such care with their dress gives everything they do that extra formal feeling (most things are conducted quite formally, as well, even greetings).

Hair is a big deal for women as well. Most women are perfectly coiffed and have had their hair done up with braids, weaves, or other hair methods/accessory type things that I have no clue about. Or covered in fancy head scarves. The men generally keep their hair very short. My host brother, Abdu Rashid (17 years old), is currently trying to grow his hair out. It's about an inch thick and his family is hassling him to get it trimmed. It's pretty funny to watch him comb his hair with a pick daily and he's pretty good-natured about the teasing.

Bathtime Fun-time!

My bathroom (sideways)! The blue basin is my 
bath basin.

The typical bathing method didn't actually take that long to get used to. Sometimes I surprise myself! I will say that the family I live with has piped-in, running water and toilets, so it probably wasn't actually a huge adjustment to make.

So, bathing is via a bucket bath here. How it's done: fill a basin with water. Use the water to rinse oneself. Soap/Shampoo up. Rinse. There are cold-water showers, but my host family spoils me and I get a jerrycan of boiling hot water each night for my bath which I pour in the basin and mix with cold water. I'll admit that it's not the same as a shower or a soak in a tub, but it does the job for the most part (although it's a bit more difficult to get ALL the mud off on rainy days).

Mirror, Mirror, Missing from the Wall...

Despite people taking care of their appearance when they go out, there doesn't seem to be many mirrors about like one might be used to in North America. Certainly, offices and hotels have small mirrors in the washrooms, but it seems that many people make use of small table top mirrors to check your face. Now, I bring this up because for the past few months, I have not been making use of any sort of mirror before going out and usually ended up doing a cursory check at some point during the day if I came across a mirror or reflective surface. This was because: 1) I didn't think to bring one; 2) although I thought to get one, I never got around to and then it got so that enough time had passed that it became pointless to get one. I figured I'd been doing alright until one day when a colleague looked at me strangely and pointed out that I had Vaseline all over my face! I thought that was strange since I don't use Vaseline and haven't been using any sort of face cream so I went to the washroom at work and lo! there was toothpaste all over my face. Of course.

Lesson: Mirrors aren't vital to survival and people are more than willing to act as one for you.

Getting From Here to There and Everywhere

Things I've learned about transportation:


1. The number of seats in a vehicle is just meant to suggest a number of passengers it can hold;

2. A Toyota Corolla can fit about 8 adults, plus a couple of children;

3. A matatu (minibus taxi), which has 14 passenger seats, can fit about 24 adults, plus a couple of children;

4. A boda boda (motorcycle taxi) can fit about 3 adult passengers, plus a couple of children;

5. Riding sidesaddle on a boda boda while holding a purse and grocery bag over a potholey road isn't as difficult as one may initially imagine it to be (although I don't know how women holding swaddled babies do it);

6. Lane markers and centre lines are mere tarmac decor - on the roads that actually have them (i.e. Highways), the lines are ignored;

7. Vehicles have 3 speeds: fast, stop, and stuck in the mud;

8. A vehicle only requires a minimal amount of fuel; thus, passengers should be prepared to pass time should the bus run out of fuel partway to a destination;

9. A trip has the potential to take twice as long as it should to allow time to stop at numerous roadside produce markets to do a bit of random grocery shopping;

10. The road hierarchy is, from top of the chain to bottom: giant trucks, cars/SUVs, boda bodas, & bicycles. The lack of 'pedestrians' on the list is not an oversight; pedestrians don't register on the list. Period.

My Life as an Intern: Data Nerd

Cornelius and I managed to meet with and interview 29 households in the village. Our target had been 30 households, so this was close enough. Why 30? Mostly due to time constraints and also, since the village is made up of approximately 100 households (according to Cornelius), we figured we would have covered a decent percentage of the population. I mean, clearly, there was no scientific method or calculation to how we came up with this number, but everyone seemed satisfied with this total.

Once that was done, it was time for...data analysis!! Now, this may sound boring -- and it totally can be. But it's a necessary part of the process. Of course, since I had designed my own survey tool, this also meant I had to design my own database. Which ALSO meant I got to continue to be annoying to staff at Kitovu Mobile (namely, the ever-patient and helpful Martin) with questions on how to use certain programs, etc. There was also a lot of data I had to go through and input once my database was complete. My nerdy little heart alternated between singing with the joy of doing nerdy, analytical work and crying from the pure tediousness of the task.

Since this was essentially a social science research project, I didn't feel quite so encumbered with hard stats and probabilities and error bars and stupid junk like that (sorry to the research scientists in my life!). I was more interested in themes and opinions and the odd statistic that would highlight some demographic information.

The good thing about having both designed and implemented the questionnaire was that I had a fairly good idea of the preliminary results without having to slog through all the data before I could start developing a project. It also helped that one of the last questions I asked every family was: How do you want to be helped/what would be helpful to you? Here was their opportunity to tell me in practical terms what they envisioned for themselves, if they had the necessary support -- or to tell me to suck it.

*** A tangent (of course) ...
One man who was the head of his household came in partway through an interview and started asking us a bunch of questions about what we were doing there and why we were asking a whole bunch of questions. A part of me wanted to bristle at him (probably a residual effect of CP work). Well, if he had been there from the beginning, he would have heard our spiel about what we were doing! We're there to try to be helpful. We're the good guys (i.e. not corrupt government officials). He then told us that he's seen other people from other organizations, some of whom were Mzungus, come visiting and asking questions before and saying they would help. And then they disappeared (I'm sure there was more to the other side of this story such as funding cuts and the like, but the point is the impact it has on communities and the perceptions that are developed). He and his family (he had 5 little girls and a wife) have been managing and even though they were poor, they'd done it all on their own and without help. What makes us think we can help now or that our help is even wanted? Well, the bristle went out of me at that point. Okay, fair enough, sir (It also turns out he was a wee bit intoxicated, but he still had a valid point). Which brings me back to a question I'd been wrestling with since I first found out I was coming to Uganda -- does foreign aid and volunteerism actually help or hinder the development process? Maybe a bit of both? What about the role of local and international NGOs? What is the effect of us Mzungus who flit in and out of these communities? It goes back to the whole 'exploitation of the poor' discussion (and gives me flashbacks to my BSW days. *shudder*). This is something to explore in detail at a later date, methinks.
                                                                                       ... End of tangent (for now)***

So, thus began Phase II of my project - analyzing data while simultaneously trying to develop a community-based project. This also meant that I got exposed to many lessons of patience (toward others, toward myself, and about situations beyond anyone's control) -- like the time the power went off mid-way through inputting some data (okay, it was multiple times. Like, daily)... and then the generator was turned on... but then that went kaput since it was out of fuel... and then the person who signs the purchasing vouchers was temporarily unavailable so fuel couldn't be purchased right away... so, I started analyzing data with pen and paper... which emphasized yet again, how calculator and technology dependent I've become and made me annoyed with myself... which gave me a headache... so I spent the next hour chatting and 'passing time'...

Season of the Nseenene

'Tis the month of Nseenene (In-sen-nay-nay).

I've been hearing that since the beginning of November, but hadn't really seen any. While I had managed to try some, they didn't really seem to be EVERYWHERE, which is what I was expecting. A plastic mug of nseenene was selling for about 5,000UGX (about $2USD). This is actually fairly high, which indicates that they weren't as abundant. However, a couple of days ago, that changed. As I was leaving for work in the morning, there was a small group of kids out on the road laughing and seemingly just standing there and holding bags and water bottles. Then, I saw them. Swirling around them were copious amounts of grasshoppers flying in and out of the bushes and trees. It was a neat thing to see. And that very day, the price came down to 2,500UGX for a mug. I think the current price is 1,500UGX.

When I arrived home at the end of the day, I came across my youngest host sister, Fazirat (about 8 or 9 years old), in the yard with her own plastic water bottle. Of course, I dumped my stuff off, changed into my shorts and joined her in the farm to go grasshopper hunting! The pros who catch and sell the grasshoppers use big steel drums and a lot of bright lights to catch them and you can see these set-ups in Town. I haven't yet had a chance to watch this. However, there is apparently some controversy with this complete with allegations of bribery (of course), given the whole power situation.

Not being pros nor catching them for profit (but rather for our own personal feast), Fazirat and I had to rely on stealth, quickness, a water bottle to hold them once captured, and our bare hands. It was pretty fun, running around the banana plantation, skulking up to plants and trees and trying to grab grasshoppers; there was a lot of slipping on mud and laughing and yelling. I managed to catch a few out of mid-air, which even impressed Fazirat. I'll admit, I felt pretty ninja. Note: grasshoppers DO bite or pinch or whatever. But ultimately, the whole being-at-the-top-of-the-food-chain thing worked in our favour.

Fazirat on the hunt...

NINJA!!

At one point, my mom called me for our weekly phone chat:
Mom: Hi, Sandra. What are you doing?
Me (in hushed tones): Hunting grasshoppers.
Mom: <pause> ...What?

After spending about an hour sneaking up on the unsuspecting Nseenene, we decided to call it a night (plus, it was starting to get dark). As we tromped up to the housing compound with muddy feet and proudly holding the bottle which was 3/4 full, Mariam (Fazirat's eldest sister, 20 years old) was standing there with arms crossed and shaking her head at us and our muddy states. Fazirat made the quintessential youngest-sister comment (and probably something I would have said to my own older sisters): "Nseenene are your favourite, so why are you shaking your head at us? I'm going to cook them for just me and Alex since WE caught them and you can watch us!" I wasn't around when the wings and legs were taken off, but my host mother, Sophie, fried them up and served them during evening tea the next day. They were DELICIOUS (and yes, we all partook in them). Mr. Jjuuko (my host father) also came home with a big batch so there was plenty to go around.

I see you, Nseenenes!

To the victors go the spoils

My Life as an Intern: Survey Nerd

After a week of orientation in September where I got to hang out with the various departments at Kitovu Mobile (Counselling, Palliative Care, Home-Based Care, Orphans and Family Support), I was placed within the Orphans and Family Support department to begin working on a community empowerment project.

My task: to do a baseline assessment of a rural village (Kyango Bigavu) near Kyotera within which Kitovu Mobile would like to start implementing programs. It was a bit daunting at first since I had to design the survey tool and I pretty much needed and wanted to ask about everything with regards to the socio-economic and political conditions as the villagers saw it. So, after fighting with the wording of and types of questions about a variety of topics (e.g. household demographics, economic factors, health conditions, HIV/AIDS knowledge, social supports, gender-based violence), paring it down as much as possible (because nobody wants to administer or participate in a 12 page questionnaire!), and having it triple checked by 3 different people for cultural appropriateness (which can be trickier than one may think), I was ready to try it out with the community worker. Ssempiira Cornelius, the community worker, had been tapped to work with the Mzungu volunteer. Cornelius is fantastic, by the way. Smart, hard-working, dedicated, skilled, and personable. I couldn't have asked for a better partner!

A typical day going out into the village looked something like this:

I would grab a ride in a truck with a team from Kitovu Mobile who was passing through Kyotera. In Kyotera, they would drop me off at a bus stage and we would very loosely plan a pick-up time at the end of the day. Cornelius would meet me at the bus stage and we would head into and through the village on a motorbike. If it was raining, we would stop and wait out the rain since the 'roads' (I use the term very loosely, here) would have turned into rivers of mud -- not exactly good motorbiking conditions as we learned on one occasion. :)

Cornelius and the motorbike

We then visited various families at their homes where I would interview people, with Cornelius translating everything. I managed to figure out how to ask people for their names and ages in Luganda; I also figured out how to ask the random question, like "how many chairs do you have?" and "do you boil your water?". But I relied primarily on Cornelius. I found that I was able to understand more of the language than I was able to speak, which helped move things along. Each interview took about 40 minutes to an hour to complete. This was partly because of the number of questions we asked and partly because there is a sort of greeting ritual we had to do with each household. I thought I was starting to get pretty good at doing this, although it always seemed to make people laugh (I'd probably laugh at me, too, if I were them!).

Homemade snuff (it's spicy!)

The majority of the people we met with were lovely. They were fairly open to discussing some aspects of some issues (thanks to Cornelius). Some were embarrassed to discuss certain things with me and I get that, but all in all the people I managed to meet with were great at allowing me to gain some insight into their lives. I must say that despite being a village that has been neglected by the various levels of government (National, District, Sub-county, etc.) and despite facing hugely daunting issues that hinder their development (food security and access to water, as examples), you could see the resilience within the community and for some of them, the pride they had in the things they made or grew. I loved doing the household interviews. As dull as it sounds to survey a village, because of the loose-ish format we adopted, it was an overall enjoyable experience.

The lovely Mulindwa Rose, presenting me with a mat 
to welcome me to the community

We always started out by letting people know who we were, which organization we were with, what we wanted to do, the purpose of surveying people from this village, and telling people we were there to learn from them.We never made promises and we tried to be clear that at this stage, we were just gathering information which we would then take back to people who might be able to figure out a way to address some of the issues. This was key and even with this reminder, expectations still got a bit muddled.

*** A tangent (of course) ...
I'm learning that in community development (and likely any work that is done in a developing country), you need to manage expectations: your own and everyone else's. People sometimes automatically assume that because you are showing an interest, all their problems will be solved. This feeling is amplified when the worker is a Mzungu. My own expectations coming into this project were to learn as much as I could about community development and empowerment, doing a community assessment, to interact with as many people as I could, and to hopefully be helpful in some way (even a small way). Thankfully, that attitude worked out fairly well (Robo-Tan in Uganda!). I'm not there to wipe away their problems or to 'save the world'. I can't and I shouldn't expect to be able to in just over 3 months. To want to do so may sound admirable and desirable, but in reality (and in my opinion), that's just arrogant. Secondly, going in with that bent has the potential to lead to a dependent relationship that doesn't foster capacity-building and is not sustainable in the long run because at the end of the day, I'm not living there with them and in these conditions. So, any development project that happens really does need to be community-driven for it to be sustainable and viable in the long run.
                                                                                          ... End of tangent (for now) ***

At the end of the day, Cornelius would take me back to the bus stage where I would wait for the team I came up with to pick me up and bring me back to Masaka. Sometimes I would wait up to an hour or more. Have I mentioned that time moves differently in Uganda? During my waits, I started sitting with a woman who makes and sells local street food. She would speak to me in rapid Luganda. And wait. I would shrug my shoulders. She would slow down and use more hand gestures. I would sort of get the gist of what she was saying and respond in broken Luganda and English with a lot of my own hand gestures. She would laugh. Eventually, the truck would come and with a final laugh at each other and a "Webale!" (Thank you) for letting me sit at her food station, I crammed myself into the truck and headed back to Masaka.

Weird Little Boys are Universal

There's a little boy I pass on my way home on most days. Our regular interactions go something like this:

Small boy (in a forced & creepy, raspy voice): hey! Hey, China!

Me: *big sigh*

Boy (with continued weird voice): come here! Come follow me!

Me: (continues walking)

Oh. Have I mentioned that the entire time he's yelling out to me... He's also crouching in the tall grasses?

Then there's another little boy further down the road who sometimes hangs out with a group of his friends:

Boy (in a high pitched sing-song voice): hey, Mzungu! Be my wife!

Friends of boy: (peals of laughter)

Admittedly, I chuckled the first few times as well. While it got old fast to me, to them... Not so much.

It's nice to know that the ways in which little boys will try to show off don't differ from home all that much...

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Kigali, Rwanda (Nov. 4-6, 2011)

In short, Kigali was awesome. As the capital city of Rwanda, I assume it showcased the best of Rwanda. It was orderly, clean, and well laid-out. It had a very different feel, vibe, and look than Kampala, the capital city of Uganda (which I also assume, in theory, showcases the best of Uganda).

The weekend trip was marked by a lot of wandering around and confusion (e.g. incorrect bus route, incorrect time zone, incorrect citizenship, incorrect street, incorrect hotel....) which made for some good belly-laughs, afterward. We DID notice that the confusion also extended to the elevators at the Hotel des Milles Collines (I couldn't seem to rotate the picture...sorry).

Updated details:
Bussing from Masaka to Kigali was a pain and took about 9-10 hours. We found out much later that the bus we had hopped onto was taking the very, extremely long route out of Uganda. I suppose this is what happens when one travels without much of a plan. I don't know what it is about sitting on a bus all day that is so exhausting, but it is.

At the border, we all got off the bus and had to walk across (after visiting the outgoing Ugandan immigration office). As a Canadian, I had to pay a $30USD entry visa fee. The visa only came into effect in 2010 and I found out afterward from Heather that it's in response to Canada's idiotic immigration policy for Rwandans that has them indicate whether they are part of the 'Hutu' or 'Tutsi' tribe. Um, hello, Canadian government -- but didn't colonial classification of people result in something called genocide in 1994? The government's justification is that they want to prevent perpetrators of genocide from entering Canada. *cue massive eyeroll*.

Rwanda is known as the "Country of a Thousand hills", and Kigali certainly is hilly - beautifully so. And the organized, regulated system of boda boda taxis was a beautiful sight to behold after having gotten used to playing "dodge the boda bodas" on a daily basis. We spent our time in Kigali by visiting the Kigali Genocide Memorial Centre, which houses a beautiful and moving exhibit regarding the 1994 genocide. I know it sounds like it would be super depressing but it was very well laid-out and obviously had the aim of looking forward in hope and learning from this tragedy.

Aside from the museum, we did a lot of wandering around the streets, stopped in at the Hotel des Milles Collines (aka "Hotel Rwanda"), and hit up a crafts market. Popping in and out of dimly lit little shops, looking at crafts (if not made locally, at least made in East Africa), and participating in the "how much is this/how much will you offer for this" dance is always good fun.

On the food front: We had real hamburgers, which we had been missing. And there was a French influence noted in the food, likely due to the Belgian/French colonists.

The next morning, we caught the 5am bus back to Masaka, since we figured it would take another 9-10 hours to get back. It was while we were waiting for our bus that we figured out that Rwanda is an hour behind Uganda which meant we were at the bus station before 4am and had spent the entire previous day an hour off. How does that even happen?! This explains our confusion about why the museum wasn't open yet, at 8:50am (according to Alex's watch) despite the sign saying it was open at 8am. This also explains the patient yet slightly exasperated way the guard at the museum was trying to explain that the museum wasn't yet open when we asked and pointed at the sign (yes, we were THOSE tourists). This also explains why, when we stopped back into the Hotel des Milles Collines after dinner to check out the advertised live music, there was no band playing despite the poster saying they would start at 7pm and Alex's watch said it was 7:30pm. Needless to say, it was a very silent bus ride back to Uganda. Thankfully, the trip back was much more pleasant - we got on the desired and significantly shorter bus route.

A Mini-Treatise On Eating and Drinking

Whenever I get to travel to new and different places, I generally look forward to trying out the local cuisine. It's always an experience and it gives me a better sense of the local daily diet. Plus, I really, really, REALLY love food.

The local food that I've tried in Masaka is not exactly bursting with flavour or spices or variety or creativity (unless you're in Jinja. But I'll save that for its own post). The cuisine does reflect some Arab, English, and Indian influences in terms of types of foods rather than how food is prepared or seasoned. The staple foods are matoke (mah-toe-kay), posho, and cassava. The texture of matoke is kind of like mashed potatoes, so sometimes that's what I pretend it is. I'm not really a fan of posho; it tastes like what I imagine paste would taste like. My host family is a Muslim family and so we also have rice quite often (according to one of my host brothers, eating rice is part of the Muslim diet). Alone, they're pretty tasteless, but if you add salt to anything, taste ratings go up. It's a good thing I'm generally fine with food being on the bland side... but I sure do miss my sesame oil, soy sauce, and cupboard of spices.

A typical dinner at home will consist of one or two of the staple foods served with a 'sauce' which may consist of groundnuts/peanuts, beans, various vegetables, and/or meat. However, since the price of meat has skyrocketed, I'm pretty much on a (unbalanced) diet of veggies (tomatoes, eggplants, avocados, and the occasional squash), bread/bread products, sweet bananas, and eggs... heavy on the bread since it's the most readily available thing! I'm lucky in that my host family grows most of the produce we consume which is fantastic and delicious. They also don't eat a whole lot of meat given the dietary issues of my host father. And since I eat what they eat... well. There you go. Meat is a special occasion food and is generally prepared via boiling.

At lunch, I just go out and see what I can find: bread, buns, samosas, chapatis, rolexes, biscuits. Rolexes are yummy. They consist of a chapati, fried egg with onions (think scrambled egg omelet type thing), tomatoes, and cabbage which is all rolled up like a burrito. These are available on little street carts pretty much everywhere. But as with most street foods, this comes with a caveat: pick your cart carefully! Thankfully, I haven't run into any issues with tummy bugs, yet.

And then there are the beverages. The beverages are quite sugary and sodas are widely available (Mountain Dew is a local favourite). I really do enjoy the sodas here, though and their accompanying mottos ("Mirinda Fruitty. Good for your health!" I highly doubt that, but thanks for trying to make me feel better about it, anyway). Also, if you purchase a drink in a glass bottle, you have to drink it right there in the store and leave the bottle behind. I think the practice is that they send all the empty bottles back to the bottling companies and they are re-used. If you have to get going, the shopkeeper will pour your drink into a little plastic baggie and give you a straw to go with it.

Juice IS available. Sort of. I have orange juice with my breakfast in the morning -- but it's the sugary powdered drink mix kind. If you go to a restaurant, freshly squeezed juices are the more expensive drink item on the menu. So, I imagine that many of the locals forego the freshly squeezed juice option. Interesting, no? People here really love their sugar. The other main thing one drinks here is tea (with heaping tablespoons of sugar added, natch)... but not coffee. Interestingly, coffee plantations are all common and are considered a cash crop -- for export purposes. IF you have coffee here, it's Nescafe instant stuff. And then you have beer. Beer is very much appreciated here (unless you are Muslim in which case you don't drink) and they have a few decent Ugandan brands.

Oh! And November is the month of Nseenene (grasshoppers)!! They actually make pretty decent snacks and are a specialty, particularly in the Masaka region. Apparently, it's quite the thing to actually watch people catch grasshoppers but I haven't come across it, yet.

A paper cone of de-feathered, de-legged, salted and fried grasshoppers.

Nseenene!

Queen Elizabeth National Park (Oct. 21-22, 2011)

In mid-October, the Alexes decided it was past time for another adventure together, so they headed to Queen Elizabeth National Park.

After checking into their hostel, they watched mongooses (mongeese?) and contemplated provoking one to assess their fighting style (they didn't!)...

... before wandering around and encountering warthogs...

... and different types of foliage and pretty little birds.

Canadian Alex and American Alex looked at the sky and debated about whether it was going to rain (it did)...

... before heading to catch a boat that would take them up and down the Kazinga Channel.

Along the Kazinga Channel, they saw hippos...

... birds....

...more birds...

....many, many birds....

... and the nests of little birds...

... and sea eagles (yes, which are birds).

There were also water buffaloes...

... just eating and hanging out...

.... alongside more hippos...

... and crocodiles.

They reached Lake Edward, where the major industries include fishing and transport across the lake...

... before the boat turned around and headed back.

In the evening, Canadian Alex and American Alex decided to be colonials and enjoyed G&Ts at a colonial-style lodge up the road from their hostel.

Early the next morning, the Alexes went on a game drive...

... and soon came upon elephants...

.... saggy, baggy elephants.

They came upon hyenas and watched them for a bit before figuring out that the hyenas were watching...

... a pride of lions feasting on a buffalo.

While the lions fed, Canadian Alex thought about barbequed ribs (true story).

The pride of lions drew a crowd....

... that watched the continued showdown between the hyenas and lions.

The Alexes eventually continued on their way and encountered Ugandan cobs...

... before reaching some salt lakes...

... and bidding the park 'Adieu'.

The End

The Long, Hard Fall

I feel it would be a bit of an oversight on my part to not mention reactions in Uganda regarding Gadhafi. especially since the sigh of relief heard in the West isn't quite as loud or universal here.

The death of Gadhafi was the Big News for weeks. I first heard about it after a Kitovu Mobile team picked me up from a jaunt in the village on the day Gadhafi was killed. The team very matter-of-factly relayed the news to me and didn't really comment on it. They just asked me if I knew who Gadhafi was and said: "the media claims he was killed today." That's it. I will say that what followed was a lively debate about the current Ugandan president, Museveni. Just a brief note: Museveni has been the president of Uganda since 1986. From pretty much the day I arrived in Uganda, I've heard about how Museveni has perhaps been president for a tad too long. Many have voiced opinions that perhaps it's time for someone fresh and new to be in power. And with the news about Gadhafi, there have been some opinions that perhaps other African presidents who have long been in power are next. Of course, there are differences in opinion regarding Museveni as well, with many in support of him.

Anyway, with regards to Gadhafi: There are differing opinions about him and his demise. The newspapers report that the Ugandan president, Museveni, has proclaimed that Gadhafi died with bravery and that he basically died on the battlefield. I should also note that there is a giant billboard near the equator that depicts a meeting between Museveni and Gadhafi (they both look quite jolly in it) which may give some more insight into Museveni's feelings toward Gadhafi.

As for the people: Some regarded him as a visionary of sorts who wanted Africa to be for and run by Africans, without Western influences or at least without kowtowing to the dictates of western superpowers. Others are glad for what has happened given the brutalities and suffering that occurred during his regime. Others think this is an indication that change in Uganda will occur sooner rather than later. Still others are kind of sad because he was so rich and used to give money to Muslim communities and mosques around Africa (there is a large Gadhafi mosque in Kampala. The exterior is quite nice). It's a mixed up bag and I'm really curious about whether these feelings of wanting change in Uganda will continue over the next few months -- and whether these feelings are strong enough to create any sort of push.

Lake Bunyonyi (September 24-25)

Alexander Pan. He's the on-site International Programs Coordinator with the Foundation for Sustainable Development, an agency that promotes sustainable development projects at the grassroots level and brings interns from North America to various parts of the developing world. It's through them that I got connected to Kitovu Mobile.

Anyway, back to Alex Pan. Yes, my near name-doppelganger (but he's an American). Given the time of year, I'm the only FSD intern in Masaka. So, instead of having a natural pool of travel buddies with whom to explore a new area, I've named Alex Pan as my Travel Buddy. He's new to Uganda as well. I'm sure he was thrilled when I informed him of his new title (actually, I never asked him that... but what does it matter, anyway?)!

So, one weekend at the end of September, we headed to Lake Bunyonyi.

Who doesn't love a great little gazebo on the lake?

It's a lovely area and very relaxing -- a great retreat. There were also other Mzungus there, which was oddly comforting. Apparently, this is the one lake in Uganda where you can swim as people claim there is no schistosomiasis here. We didn't take the chance and stayed out of the water, although we did rent a wicked dug-out canoe.

I've re-posted my picture story regarding this little getaway:

One weekend, a couple of Alexes decided to go to Lake Bunyonyi...

... where they rented a dug-out canoe (aka Muzungu corkscrews)...

... which they attempted to paddle in a straight path...

... which was not so successful (perhaps due to American Alex's steering? :D)...

... so, the American Alex decided to try his hand at looking bad-ass while paddling.

Afterward, Canadian Alex and American Alex walked around the area and took in the view...

... and saw a cow...

... and looked at the view some more..

... and appreciated how picturesque it was...

... before relaxing by the lake...

... with a couple of beers, natch.

The End.