Back to reality

The last week of the holidays was one of my best in Uganda. I rafted Grade 5 rapids on the Nile for two days which, though truly terrifying at some points, was absolutely fantastic. We also gatecrashed a very expensive hotel in Jinja and spent the day relaxing by the pool; a nice change from our hostel. Finally, on the last Sunday before our return for training we had a goodbye party for a friend of ours who was leaving to go back to the States forever. Sniff.

Grinning like an idiot with the guys at the party


Feeling clean for the first time in five months

Everything has grown tall in the village since I left. The maize and sugar cane have begun to block out the views of hills and forests. It gives the place a claustrophobic atmosphere it did not have before. Subtle changes add to this unfamiliarity: different cows graze outside my window, the hen has had chicks, some of the children have forgotten my name. That life continues in your absence is obvious; but sometimes it takes these small revelations to remind you.

In order to charge my phone in Busede I have to walk 45 minutes to our nearest trading center which is one of the only places with electricity nearby. As my phone has begun to show it's age I have to make this pilgrimage almost every other day, sit and watch the world go by for an hour and walk back to our little house. Thursday is market day so yesterday all three of us decided to trek up the hill and wait for the trucks to arrive from town. Just before reaching the center we were met by a group of over six hundred people, dressed in their best clothes, crowded around two houses by the side of the road. Two of the local boys had been driving a truck in Rwanda and had died in a road accident. We paid our respects at the funeral and continued to the trading center which was deserted: the whole village turns out for funerals. We managed to find somewhere to charge our phones and sat under an acacia tree to chat to some people who had come from town to register villagers for the upcoming elections.
Five minutes later we heard a cry from down the hill. About one hundred people in full dress clothes were sprinting towards us, pursued by a wall of water which over took and drenched them. Within five seconds we had grabbed the stools we sat on and raced to the nearest porch to escape the downpour. It was the first rain the village has had in weeks and the road quickly became a river. We sat munching on roasted corn. "What is central heating?" my placement partner asked. Try explaining the concept of radiators to someone who lives on the equator. It was possibly my strangest moment yet in Uganda.

Holidays - and finally some photos!

The school holidays have begun and that means that us teachers are getting a (hopefully) well earned rest from village life and a chance to explore some of Uganda. It began with a trip to my placement partner's Aunt's "Introduction". This is a traditional wedding which a couple have to take part in before they are able to have a church marriage in Uganda. It has its origins in tribal practices and is quite a spectacle. The ceremony is held at the bride's family's home and the grooms party sit separately for the entire day. Various female family members are paraded in front of the groom's party until finally the bride is "selected", after which the bride's friends pick out the groom by pinning a flower on his jacket. This was followed by a huge present giving session, food, cake and dancing, all of which was fantastic fun.

Women on parade at the introduction

Me in the middle of the dance floor

The next weekend, after tying up all the loose ends at placement, me and three friends (one of which works for a rather generous NGO and thus has access to a car) headed off to Sipi falls on the far Eastern side of Uganda. It was a great opportunity for a little r + r, though we did manage a three hour trek up to the falls and a swim in the freezing cold mountain waters.

Us at Sipi

Next I took a trip out to the Fort Portal area, about a five hour drive west towards the Rwandan boarder. The area is famous for it's crater lakes which pockmark the valley. They are free of hippos and bilharzia which meant I could finally go for a nice swim. As I was the only visitor at the camp site I spent the afternoon with the local kids who had come for a swim in the lake. They let me play on their self-made bamboo boat and were totally amazed that I was able to dive in from the rocks. Though it was lovely to spend some time on my own I did miss sharing the amazing scenery with someone. Occasionally you just want someone to take your picture!

A panorama of Lake Nkuruba

After spending a few days hanging around Jinja and Kampala my last adventure took me out to Lake Bunyonyi (scene of the events of the previous post!). Despite the worm action the area was beautiful. The lake is a result of a volcanic eruption about 8000 years ago which flooded a valley with redirected water from a river. It has over twenty beautiful islands which you can visit by motorboat or dug out canoe. The latter is much nicer and you pay about £1 per person for a 45 minute journey. We rented a motorbike to explore the beautiful views around the lake and headed out to one of the islands for dinner.

Me playing with some of the great kids we met on our walk.

In a dug-out canoe on the lake

Lansing paddling with Noah our "captain"

Having fun on the island

Uganda really is a stunningly beautiful country. Wherever you go lush vegetation and natural features crowd the landscape. The people too are so friendly and always willing to help you out. We got a flat tire on our motorbike about 2k from the hotel and a man from the red cross stopped to help us push the bike back, just because he was headed that way. I feel genuinely privileged that I have had a chance to live here and experience the country from a very different perspective. Those who just pass through rarely get to see events like the Introduction and often just skim the surface of life here. I know I write about disturbing events and the difficulties of everyday life but I honestly wouldn't trade this experience for the whole world.

For strong stomachs only. Seriously.

I've been doing some fantastically fun things and travelling around these last few weeks and I promise to do another update very soon about that (and by that I mean when I actually bloody remember to bring my camera to an internet cafe!). But a story that definitely doesn't require pictures - but which google will happily provide - is what happened to me this weekend. On Monday morning I woke up in my hostel bed after having gone to a Ugandan hip-hop gig in a makeshift stadium the night before. Fun times were had by all and the five angry looking mosquito bites on my stomach and one on my arm seemed a small price to pay.

As the week progressed the bites began to look more and more swollen and hurt like hell. By Friday I decided that they must be infected and resigned to sort it out myself. As I was holidaying beside Lake Bunyonyi in the middle of nowhere I did it the traditional travellers way: with nail scissors and medicinal alcohol. Now it gets graphic. From the first "bite" I tackled I pulled out a tiny wriggling maggot. It looked like this:

Tumbu fly larva, courtesy of google

I must have stared at it for three full minutes. The clearest thought running through my head was...I've got five more of these in me. In some kind of determined daze I put freaking out to one side and proceeded to dig the others on my stomach out one by one, biting down on my tube of deodorant as I went. I was aware of the fact that it was painful but all that I could think of was getting these things out of me. After half an hour I had five holes in my stomach which I cleaned with the alcohol. However, the one on my right arm was extremely deep and frenzied gouging with my left hand was unsuccessful. Resigning myself to sleeping with a worm in my arm I spent a fitful night waking up to horrible shooting pains where it was moving around under the skin.


The next day I took the 12k journey by motorbike to the nearest hospital where I proceeded to baffle the medical technician on duty who called in his superior. While waiting to be seen I felt a stabbing pain in my arm and looked down to see Dave the worm poking his head out of the hole. He had to go.

The hospital: courtesy of google

The doctor on duty still didn't know what it was but decided to give me a local anaesthetic and dig it out of my arm with a surgical blade. Normally I am not scared of needles or medical procedures but I have to admit, lying there on a bed in a Ugandan hospital with a worm in my arm, I was further out of my comfort zone than I have ever been. I think I broke the technician's hand as I lay on my side and had the local administered. It didn't work the first time, or the second. After the third try I just shouted at the man to dig the thing out of me and be done with it. Finally, with lots of blood, he pulled out the worm and, looking at me like I was super-woman for digging the others out myself, dressed my wound and gave me some precautionary de-worming tablets. For all of this attention I forked out the grand total of £2.80.

Since then I have found out that it was a Tumbu fly, probably picked up from sitting on the ground at the music gig. Though it was a pretty traumatising experience I know now that I can deal with it if it happens again...though please touch wood for me that it doesn't.