Some fun times

Things have been going really well here lately. I have been spending most of my days playing with Brian and Sue who recently came up with a song whose lyrics consist only of “Madisson, Madisson, Diana, Diana.” I have been eating lots of chapatti, drinking some Nile beer, and doing my best to take everything in before this is over and I’m sitting in the States waxing nostalgic. Thursday I made a small child scream bloody murder simply by existing. She was wearing a bright orange dress and looked so adorable that I thought I would greet her. As soon as she saw me there was loud frightened crying and a look on my face that said, “What did I do?” Monica called from a distance, “She fears your color!” Whoops!

Anyway, I figured I would continue the ramblings of my Rwanda vacation. Not all of my time in the country was as serious and momentous as my last entry might suggest. For most of the time, we simply had a lot of fun. We got into Kigali late at night, without a hotel in mind and without a basic knowledge of the languages spoken (Rwandan or French!). This was the way most of our trip would go, without a plan. At first I worried about our lack of planning but the impromptu nature of our vacation allowed us to adventure and rely heavily on the kindness of strangers. So it happen when we first arrived. Cramped into a overloaded taxi van, I found myself practically hugging a nice young man with a video phone watching scandalous music videos. In a crazy twist of fate the man spoke a little English. I asked him if he knew a hotel we could stay and he not only recommended one but also found us a private car to take us there and ensured that we did not get overcharged. Oh thank you taxi man! You have no idea how much you helped us and how much we truly appreciated your kindness. We got to the Hilltop Hotel and randomly met the manager of the place. He gave us a ton of information about where to go and things to see.

The next day we explored Kigali, went to the Memorial Center, and checked out the office of tourism. They told us there about some places we could go to camp and hike which we decided to do the next day. For lunch we went to a place called Bourbon Coffee. It was a cuter, less corporate Starbucks with a full food menu. We sat outside, which gave us an incredible view of Kigali, and ordered some delicious American style food. I had a vegetable sandwich (with cheese!) and French fries. Between the five of us we also consumed a full bottle of Heinz tasty, wonderful, perfect ketchup. Fabulous. Late into the day we went to the supermarket to buy food and water for our next day’s camping adventure in Nyungwe Forest, my very first camping experience ever.

Aftet a long bus ride through practically the whole country (it’s true, Rwanda is small) we arrived at the national park. We were greeted by a hiking guide and some primates as well. It was getting late by the time we got there so we rented our tents and set up camp. The night was one of excited firsts: first time pitching a tent, first time starting a campfire, first time peeing in the forest. It was all very thrilling. The rest of the night was spent around the campfire chatting, telling secrets, and wishing for marshmallows. We met some guys who had been spending their summer exploring the continent. We spent a good time exchanging stories about African transportation (broke down taxis, puking children, cramped spaces, etc.). After a while, we got into our tents and sleeping bags and spent our night in the hills of Rwanda.

In the morning we awoke early and started on our hike. Rwanda is known as the land of a thousand hills and I am proud to say that I successfully hiked one of them. We found out that to hike in the forest we would each have to pay 30 US dollars. LAME. We thought we might be able to get around it by going without a guide. So we followed the signs for the green trail, which we knew was easy. It was gorgeous scenery with beautiful views of the Rwandan hills. We walked into some waterfalls and saw a pretty interesting caterpillar. Some how and without our knowing it, we traveled off our easy green path and stumbled upon what we would later know as the difficult red path. We figured we would continue on our path hoping for that trail’s end. However, when we did not find it after an hour and a half, we decided to turn around and go back. What was once a relaxing simple downhill trek became a strenuous uphill battle with nature. I soon grew exhausted and every group of steep wooden steps felt like another mountain. We finally, breathless and thirsty, made it back to reception where we were promptly and kindly asked to pay our 30 dollar hiking fee. Ho-hum.

From camping, we went back to Kigali where we spent one more night before heading back to Uganda. We were leaving Rwanda a day early to go white water rafter on THE NILE RIVER. I will admit I was feeling mildly (okay, terribly) nervous about the venture as I had never been rafting before and am not the most expert of swimmers. I figured though that the company would not let me go if they thought I might die trying. Right? So we went ahead. We got on a bus early in the morning and after watching a few people bungee jump, we got ready to raft. We were told to get into groups of 9, find life jackets, a helmet, and a guide and we would head to the boats. We did just that and found Greg, a mildly (okay, terribly) attractive white South African with a lack of propriety and a love of flipping rafts. We got into the rafts and learned the basics of rafting. We talked about safety and what to do in sticky situations like being flipped or trapped under the boat (Hold on to the boat, it’s a big life preserver. Get under the boat, find the air pocket, breathe, get out). With all of that talked about Greg flipped us over for practice and we all got back into the boat heading for some sweet rapids.

The morning rapids were supposed to be the tamest, preparing us for an afternoon of grade five rapids. However it was in these that Greg took the liberty of flipping us over. I held on for my life but went under the boat. I did just as I was supposed to except for perhaps a little extra panic than was necessary. The most important thing they told us was not to panic but it just is so hard not to when you are not sure where you will find your next breath of air. Even though it was death defying, being swallowed by waves was completely exhilarating. The day continued on just like the morning, full of rapids, flips and verbal abuse (PADDLE! HARD FORWARD! PADDLE! COME ON!) from Greg. At one point, I was thrown so far from the boat after it flipped that a friendly kayaker had to take me aboard and bring me back to the boat. For the last rapid of the day, we had to climb out of the boat because between where we were and where we were going was a huge group of rapids grade 6 and 7 that are only for the most extreme, skilled kayakers and rafter. It was terrifying to see those rapids up close and know that one wrong move and we could have been in them. Eep! The last rapid is called “The Bad Place” and Greg told us that he had a bad feeling about us going there that day. Instead he opted for the “chicken line” which was not dangerous but still gave us some waves. We got through and had a short bit of paddling to the other side of the river where our belongings and free drinks were waiting. As we paddled, I heard a hissing noise of sorts and when I inquired about it, learned that it was a leak in the raft! Ah, I felt pretty happy to skip “The Bad Place” after I heard that one.

After the rafting, everyone drank and talked and hung out until it was time to get back on the bus heading to Kampala. We had met a woman from Michigan on our boat named Kerry and we chatted with her. She is in Uganda working on a public health proposal for HIV/AIDS education and her company put her up in a really fancy hotel for her time in the country. She invited us over for breakfast and hot showers, partially out of kindness and a little out of pity. We parted ways and went to the travel hostel we got a discount for by rafting.

In the morning I did that which I never thought I would. I took a boda boda in the capital city of Kampala. It was so busy and the driver zipped in and around cars rather dangerously. I was so happy to have survived when we finally reached Kerry’s hotel. We got to her room, which was nicer than any I have ever stayed in in the States. She ordered us room service and trusted us in her room as she went to meetings. We took hot glorious showers and slept in a king size bed with a padded headboard and we watched hours on end of awful movies (Fantastic Four, Herbie Fully Loaded). It was an unexpected wonderful way to finish off our vacation, in the lap of luxury surrounded by American movies and excess.