Murchison Falls

A few weekends ago, we went to Murchison Falls for a safari. I brought my camera with me but being the amateur that I am, I left my memory card at home so the following photos are ones that I've stolen from Krysten.

This is me and Krysten in the back of the matatu that we travelled around in. It's a small, white van that people use as taxis here. On the second day I rode on top of the matatu - slightly dangerous and very painful but a lot of fun.


I forget what these are called but they have cool antlers. Help me out if you know.


Obviously this is a giraffe. I thought that the novelty would wear off by seeing so many of them but we were just as excited with the first one was saw as we were with the last one we saw. I'm sure that our driver wasn't too impressed with us wanting to stop at every giraffe sighting.


This is the Ugandan national bird:


We're watching a hippo :)


Speaking of which, when we were finished our tour for the day, our driver took us to a spot where many people stay just outside of the park. Every day there's a mother hippo that comes up to the grounds and eats the grass.

We got pretty close despite the fact that hippos kill people.

We stopped for lunch before our boat tour down the Nile and we found these lovely warthogs hanging out beside the tables. Everyone was shooing them away but our group liked them. And yes, we did sing Hakuna Matata everytime we saw a warthog.


As we went down the Nile, there were hippos and crocodiles everywhere. These guys look like they're fighting but apparently crocks keep their mouths open as a cooling mechanism. I like to think these ones are kissing ;)


Our final destination:


Okay, so it's not quite Niagara Falls but the journey there was incredible.

Last but not least, my favourites, the elephants!


And another one, for good measure:


That's pretty much it. There were a bunch of really terrible parts to that weekend but it's not even worth mentioning because overall, it was an awesome time. It was definitely a weekend to remember.

The straw the broke the camel's back

Since the day we arrived in Uganda, it was clear that the locals had created a divide between them and the white people in our group.

Yep, this post is about race - I'll do my best not to offend anyone

Many people would stare at us as we walked down the street. While we were trying to get used to crossing the busy roads of Kampala, drivers would often pause to let us pass when they wouldn't give the time of day to any local person.

The second day we were in Kampala we requested a meeting with the opposition leader (the Ignatieff of Uganda) and we were granted with the opportunity that afternoon. Our friend Carol, who had been showing us around Kampala, told me that she was so happy that day because there's no way she would have ever had the chance to meet someone as high-profile as him.

There have been a couple times where we needed boda bodas (the main form of transportation in Uganda) and boda drivers would stop, attempt to kick off their passenger in order to allow us on. None of us have ever accepted those rides, no matter how much we may have wanted to.

Similar situations occur all the time. One day the guys went to play basketball at a school nearby. I went to take photos and because the school grounds are covered in dirt, one of the students went into the school and returned with a chair for me so that I didn't have to sit on the ground. There were adoring children everywhere and there wasn't a chance in the world that I was going to sit in the almighty chair and have the kids running circles around me at a lower level. They were shocked when I plopped a couple of small girls into the chair and opted for the ground.

One of the most upsetting instances though was when a few of us went to the clinic in town. We were all feeling sick so we went for malaria testing (the results are another story in itself). Because I was feeling so nauseous that day, I chose to ignore the fact that we bypassed all of the people in the waiting room. After seeing one "doctor" we had to wait in a hallway for the second "doctor" to take our blood.

As Amber and I waited, there was a woman that was clearly in immense pain. She was curled up in a ball, moaning, with tears streaming down her face. The doctor approached us and we pointed to the woman beside us and said that he should take her first. Instead he picked up the woman and put her into a dingy room to wait while we went in. I can only assume that he misunderstood us, thinking that we wanted the woman out of our sight.

I have been undecided on whether or not most of these acts of kindness were because the locals wanted to treat us well because we are guests to the country or because we are white. I kept telling myself that these were all random acts of kindness but it became very apparent last night that the locals have created a huge divide between themselves and us white folk. They have put us on a pedestal and surprisingly, it doesn't feel nice.

We went to a club called Sasha last night. We were having a wonderful time, taking back a couple drinks and dancing around for our last night out in Arua. Then, as is unfortunately expected at any bar, one guy started to grab at all of us girls. We were handling ourselves fine but all of a sudden it seemed like every guy in the bar started fighting. Our guys were being backed up by the new friends we made and a few skirmishes later, the sketchy guy was being dragged out of the club.

None of us really wanted to go home but I figured I'd go downstairs to check on everyone. Tensions were high as I reached the group of people that kicked out the bad dude. The worst part is, they literally kicked the guy out of the club. One of our new friends came back in and his shirt was covered in blood. Apparently they gave him a solid beating.

This made all of us feel very uncomfortable because we didn't intend for anyone to get hurt. I was ready to go back upstairs and start dancing until the bouncers told us that "no white people were allowed to leave the club."

That was the end of that for me. I was furious. I tried to leave but no one would let me "for my own protection". I wasn't concerned for my safety (although looking back, maybe I should have been) but it was very upsetting to think that some of the people we came with, Tk, Gillian and Jospeh, were able to leave the club if they wanted because they're black but we had to stay inside because we're white and we apparently needed protection.

Last night my frustration was mistaken for feeling like we were being oppressed but in fact, it's the complete opposite. It was an extreme case of the everyday attitudes the the locals have toward us.

I absolutely despise that we are treated better than everyone else because we're white. It's not even because we're guests or because we're foreigners but nine times out of ten, it's because we're white and it's that simple. It's impossible for me to get inside the heads of Ugandans but in my short time spent here, my humble guess would be that it's because white people have money and supposedly that means we have power over everything.

The whole thing makes me sick and has been the main source of my daily anger and frustrations. This is definitely a sensitive topic because it's rare when everyone wants to talk about race issues. I recognize that people go through worse things because of the colour of their skin and so this may not even be my place to speak about it but I have a public outlet to discuss these issues so here I am. If I can get this angry about receiving the positive effects of racial divides, I can only imagine how people feel that receive the negative effects of racism.

It upsets me the most that there are a lot of people in the world that still hold true to their racial divides (whatever they may be). I don't like being called Mundu or Mzungu (white foreigner) and I don't like that people give me special treatment because I'm white. I'm not saying that we need to turn a blind eye to the various races in the world but rather recognize that there are people in the world with different skin colour, culture, religions, etc. and accept them as all the same.

I'm sure that I'm guilty of treating people differently depending on who they are whether it's an unconscious decision or it's the result of a terrible joke but the only way I know how to deal with it from here on out is to talk about it.

In case you didn't know, I love kids

This little girl is too cute not to share. If you click on the photo it will be a much better size.



That's all.

Truth

I think I've felt almost every emotion possible on this trip. I don't think of myself as a very emotional person but I'm sure that most people would disagree with that.

There have been so many times that I've felt angry and frustrated that I can't even count. Those feelings stem from arguments that I have with the people I'm working with, seeing how this country is run or even just from observing the way Ugandan culture has been built up.

I thought I had a lot of patience but there's a huge difference between dealing with a crying baby in Canada and an incredibly slow-paced culture in Uganda. My patience is tested multiple times a day here. Sometimes I let the fury build up and other times I explode. Either way, it's not pretty.

On the flip side, I have also become overwhelmed with joy here. I get excited when I have a yummy meal or see a group of children laughing. I've been moved to tears by the nature around me - sunsets from Arua Hill or seeing a herd of elephants in the distance on the Nile River.



The reason I'm talking about this is because yesterday I had three people tell me that they appreciated the honesty I speak in my blogs. But truthfully, there's so much more I could say.

When I get back home I'm not entirely sure I'll be able to talk about a lot of my experiences right away. Don't be offended, I just need to find a balance between complaining and romanticising the lifestyle here.

In any case, I have one month left and I'm sure in that month I'll have many more experiences to come with plenty of emotional ups and downs. We have two weeks left of the sports program, the grand opening of the Internet cafe, a white water rafting trip, a potential visit to Rhino Camp and the Democratic Republic of the Congo (if the situation gets better)as well as some down time in Kampala. All that before a four-day trip to Europe and then home to Canada again. Wow, that's an exciting month now that I think about it.

Photographic evidence

I finally got my hands on a card reader so I'll be able to upload the photos I've been taking so far a little more often. You will get to see all of my photos in a gallery at the end of my time in Uganda but for now you'll have to deal with whatever patience I have in waiting for the photos to upload on the blog.

My favourite ones so far are pictures that I've taken of children. They are all so curious and make for the best models in town. It's easy to take photos of them because they always get so happy when they are able to see themselves on the camera immediately after snapping a shot of them.

I've found that photography has actually been the best way to put a smile on the faces of these children. Most of them have grown up seeing their parents ask white people for money or perhaps their teachers have taught them that foreigners are rich. Either way, it's rare to go a day without having someone ask for money, a soccer ball or assistance in one way or another. It's heartbreaking to say no to them but I just don't have the funds to provide for their immediate needs and neither do any of the other students that I'm working with at PFAI.

Anyways, I've taken some great shots of the kids I've run into so far and I want to share them with you.

This is Frank

Frank s very shy and has only recently started opening up to me. He is three years old, Ayiko's nephew and is the son of my new friend Maya.

Actually, here's a photo of Maya too. She wants me to name her next child. But I think there's a catch because she also wants me to pay for Frank's school fees when I get a job. Either way, we're good friends and I'm sure that we'll stay friends for as long as possible.




The next photo is of a boy named Steven. He comes out to the basketball nights of our Sports Program and although he doesn't play, he seems like one of those kids that's going to be a great leader some day. Whether he becomes the leader of a country or the mafia, I'm not sure but I know he'll be great.



I have some other great photos too but I can't upload them all. You'll have to check back for my photo gallery around the end of July.

A day in the life of a Mzungu woman

Many women here marry young and they come at a cost. Men offer cows, goats and money to the potential bride's family. The more education a woman has, the better the offer.

I wondered how much a local would offer to marry a Mzungu (white person) like me. Yesterday I found out.

5 security guards at Barclay's Bank: (wave and blow kisses)
me: Bruce, the guards are blowing kisses at me.
Bruce: Hm, let's see how many cows we can get for you
me: no, no, no! Please, no.
(we walk over)

Bruce: Ngoni! (meaning, how are you?)
Guards: Mamoke (meaning, I'm okay)
Bruce: How many cows for her?
me: (embarrassed)
Guard #1: I'll give more than you can handle.
Bruce: 30?
Guards: (abrupt laughter)
Guard #2: I'll give 4. For most women, it would be 2 (which is a lie. Most people can give around 10 and numerous goats).
Bruce: No way. I have to look out for my sister.
Guards: (more laughter)

Before we left, one of the guards pulled me aside to ask for my phone number. I told him that I don't have a phone (an excuse that is true for once). His solution was to buy me a phone.