Interpretive Glance

19th – 22nd October

Fort Portal lies in the west of Uganda, surrounded by mountains and tea plantations. It a lush, green area from where you can visit a range of National Parks, or just sit on a verandah drinking coffee and enjoying the view. 

We stayed in Rwenzori View Guest House, which is a quality Dutch run establishment, where we enjoyed a spacious double room with an ensuite and a verandah. The breakfast was delicious and the family dinners set around a common table were excellent. 

We spent our time visiting Semliki National Park and the Crater Lakes in the company of Molly from the US and English John who we had met in Kampala. Good company and interesting places made for a good time! Semliki is famed for its hot springs where you can bring your own eggs to boil. The walk through the park was muddy but scenic and the hot springs were definitely worth seeing, despite warnings to the contrary. 

The crater lakes were a little underwhelming, but the scenery was still beautiful. 

The Big 6 safari gave us a good reason to venture away from our hermit hole of Red Chilli Hideaway and meet some interesting people. We were a group of 6 – Leila and Joanne from England, Victor and Tom from France and Jase and I from Australia. Day 1 started slowly, with smoke rising from the centre console of the van. “The cap on the radiator was loose,” the driver exclaims, “now everything is ok!” Twenty minutes later we were stopped at the petrol station waiting for our new van to carry us on. Still, these moments are often the most interest times in a trip, when you are given a unique opportunity to interact with the local people. We sat in a roadside cafe sipping soft drinks at Mzungu prices and watching the outskirts of Kampala go by. 

Eventually another vehicle arrived to whisk us away to the Rhino Sanctuary…

Our accommodation in Murchison Falls National Park was at Red Chilli Camp, where we could hear the hippos munching on grass in the campsite at night. These are those moments where you hope beyond hope that you don’t need to go to the bathroom overnight. The warthogs lazing in the campsite by day made for much less threatening company.

Day 2 consisted of a game drive in the morning and then a Nile River Cruise in the afternoon. Unfortunately there were no cats to be seen but there were plenty of other animals to keep us occupied. 

The view from the top of Murchison Falls was truly a sight to behold. The power of the water is immense and not something to be trifled with!

On the way back to Kampala we went chimp trekking, which proved to be a much cheaper experience than the Gorillas, and almost as cool. For the most part, they sat peacefully in the trees, but just before we left the forest a whole family descended from the canopy to move on to a different location. So much noise!

Aside from the animals though, one of the most enjoyable aspects of the 3 days for me was the company. The shared experiences of our group members were fascinating, as were those of others we met. There was much conversation over the state of Africa and what people believe needs to happen. Although, as usual, no conclusion was ever reached and the topic remains an endless mystery. This is a topic on which I have a lot to say, but it’s a work in progress. 

12th – 16th October

Our journey from Byoona Amagara in Lake Bunyoni to Red Chilli Hideaway in Kampala took a total of 12 hours and was so emotionally and physically taxing that we spent the following 3 days in the comfort of the Hideaway’s walls. At least that is my excuse for doing pretty much zilch in Kampala…Although according to reports, we weren’t really missing anything.

We started at 8.30am with a boat trip from the island. Coming into the little dock on the mainland we were given an incidental tour of the local market. Dug out canoes lined the shore packed with large white sacks filled to brim with coal, onions and other mysteries. Women strolled past with vegetables balancing in baskets atop their heads and young men herded their goats and cows in between vehicles on the road. We were the lofty spectators sailing past on our motorised canoe waving at the odd child.

The ensuing taxi ride to the bus station in Kabale ended with a number of heads in our window competing with each other for bus business. I had to firmly ask them all to give us a minute so we could discuss with our driver which was the safest option. The slowest bus of the raggedy lot was apparently Bismarkan, so we chose to sweat out the journey with this company. In actuality, we sped through the countryside at an alarming pace, wind billowing through the open window, swerving to miss the odd animal (or person). 

An affable Ugandan fellow called Dennis sat next to us for half the journey and provided us with a very educated and open minded perspective on Ugandan politics, education and various other subjects. He turned out to be an amazing help as well as interesting company. When we finally arrived in Kampala, battling through the madness of the roads, we found ourselves pulled over on the side of the ride with men inspecting one of the wheels of the bus. All I can say is thank goodness we made it to Kampala before the tyre saw fit to blow. Dennis assured us that the old taxi park was about 200m walk from where the bus kindly died. About 1.5km later we were still walking…

Dennis truly was a life saver. He led us through the throngs of people and vehicles that crowd the streets during peak hour in Kampala. As the sky grew darker we shouldered our packs through the insanity, desperately following Dennis’s white shirt as it darted between minivans and motorcycles. Street vendors blew horns for the following days game between Zambia and Uganda. People moved almost as one mass, leaving tiny avenues on the pavement for the next to fight over. Mud flicked onto us from all angles as we dodged puddles and tried not to slip. Motorcycles surrounded us and came so close they could have shaved my legs for me. We squeezed through almost impossible gaps between the minivans as they jammed up against one another in the battle with the traffic. Occasionally we lost Dennis amongst the madness only to see him waiting patiently for us up ahead. What a champion! Never in all my travels have I seen a city as crazy as Kampala! 

We possibly could have taken the easy option of a taxi to our hostel but for some reason we decided to get one of the public minivans to Red Chilli. This proved to be another hour of sweating profusely underneath our packs squeezed in between 2 others on a row of seats that was definitely not meant for 4. Kampala traffic is so bad that the vehicles often turn themselves off as they sit jammed for up to an hour amongst fellow drivers. This makes for a sweltering ride. Our driver offered to drop us at the gate to Red Chilli for ‘a little extra’. In reality I think we ended up paying about 5 times as much as the locals, but this only worked out at $2 for both of us, so I wasn’t going to complain too much.

Thankfully, we eventually reached our destination – Red Chilli Hideaway. By this stage we were exhausted, sweaty, covered in red dirt and on my part, dehydrated from depriving myself of water so I wouldn’t have to bear myself to 30 or more African men. What a journey!

9th – 12th October

Our time at Lake Bunyoni proved to be a less expensive version of our time in Lake Kivu. We sat, we ate, we watched the birds fly by, chatted to other travelers and played chess with a makeshift board and bottle tops. 

As I mentioned our accommodation was called Byoona Amagara. It is situated on a small island in the lake and is a eco/community tourism initiative with a great selection of accommodation. We stayed in the deluxe geodome from which we had a great view of the lake, and to which we hoped the lake did not have a great view of us…I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in a nice place without a wall before.

The bird watching proved to be excellent, although that is to be expected, as Bunyoni means ‘place of birds’. In an effort to be more active, we took a canoe trip with a very uninspired guide who didn’t seem to know a lot. He did share one interesting piece of information though…there is an island in the lake populated by a lonesome tree and an abundance of reeds. This is where they used to take women who fell pregnant out of wedlock to die, swim to shore or be stolen by another man after a cheap wife. Of course the father of the child was allowed to continue impregnating to his hearts content! Africa is not a continent for women. Thankfully this practice stopped 3 generations ago, but women are only treated fractionally better these days…

The majority of people making the journey from Rwanda to Uganda cross the border between Kigali and Kampala in the eastern regions. As we were in the North west of the Rwanda we opted for the crossing between Musanze and Kisoro in the south west of Uganda. We soon realised why traveling between Kigali (Rwanda) and Kabale (Uganda) is the easier option. Coming from Lake Kivu in Rwanda to Kabale in Uganda proved to be a long journey to take in one day. According to Google Maps it was only a total of around 300km but it ended up taking us about 9 hours to complete.

A small bus took us from Lake Kivu to Musanze where we crammed ourselves in amongst peoples market supplies on a minivan destined for the border. After being quizzed by the border official about our personal lives and assuring him that we would get married soon, we made the crossing into Uganda. An expensive taxi ride took us to Kisoro where we were ushered into a share taxi headed to Kabale. The car was full, as were our high hopes of getting out of there. We learned however, that 5 people in a small sedan does not equate to a full vehicle in Uganda. We were waiting for at least 2 more before we could go. An hour and a half later, a rather hot and frustrated me offered to pay the fare for the 2 missing people and we left. 

After two more hours of playing corners in the back seat we reached Kabale. Here we called our accommodation on the lake to arrange a taxi to the dock. As we were waiting a taxi driver approached us with false claims of being called by Byoona Amagara, and we ended up losing 10 000 shillings to his fuel tank before the real taxi pulled up beside us in the petrol station. Unfortunately no amount of shouting and waving my arms around could claim our shillings back, and we drove towards our destination fuming at the injustices of it all. Really, we can be thankful that the most we have been scammed out of on this trip so far is about $5. Not so bad really… 

A boat ride later and we had reached our destination, ravenous and exhausted, having not eaten lunch or drunk much along the way. Byoona Amagara was the paradise we had been waiting for…

6th – 9th October

Our time in Lake Kivu was more about relaxing than anything else. We began in Gisenyi, the lakeside town bordering with the Congo, but fast decided that this was no place of beauty. There is little for a tourist there, especially in the cheap hotels, although we were enthralled by the crested cranes pecking around in the hotel garden.

After one night in town, we made our way to the Paradise Malahide at Rubona Hill. This made for a more expensive few nights, but we certainly enjoyed our luxury. During those three days we read, ate delicious fish, slept and did a whole lot of nothing. It was magnificent!

3rd – 5th October 2012

“Wow, yes please, don’t worry sir. It will be fine.”

These are the words of Eric, one of our charming hosts at Red Rocks Backpackers. They were said frequently, with sincerity and often in rather bizarre contexts. I especially liked the use of ‘wow,’ and whilst I could have been offended by being called sir once or twice, I didn’t mind so much.

I shall take a moment to mention Red Rocks Backpackers, which is where we stayed in the Musanze Region. Set in the scenic, lush Nkotsi Valley, 8km south of the city, it is a new eco-hostel that is, at this stage, undiscovered, but showing a lot of promise. It is surrounded by beautiful countryside and small villages, and gives you a chance to step outside the gorilla trekking mecca into a more authentic part of the region. Our little double room was simple but tastefully decorated as were all the common areas. There was a little hiccup in the water supply of the area during our stay resulting in no running water, but the staff were very helpful in providing us with buckets. All in all a nice place.

Our main reason for visiting the district was to see the Mountain Gorillas, which was a great experience. We spent an hour trekking through the bamboo forest, following these gentle primates, watching them eat, play and mozy around. Occasionally one walked by close enough to touch but mostly we were blundering around after them in the forest.

The rest of our time in Musanze was spent walking through villages with Caswa and Eric from Red Rocks. Caswa took us up a mountain to one of the nearby villages. The walk was a hot and sweaty climb, although the children who followed us did not seem to bothered by it. I couldn’t quite imagine why anyone would walk up a hill that steep just for curiousity’s sake, but Mzungus are obviously quite interesting…We first reached the local bar in the village where one of the locals tried to entice me with the local banana beer. I was trying to think of a good excuse not to drink the murky, fly ridden substance when Caswa rescued me. I think food poisoning could have been taken to new heights with that brew…The view from the top of the mountain, complete with a new set of curious children, was breathtaking. Although I’m not sure waking up to it every day would be worth the necessary climb with water and all the other supplies.

Our walk with Eric took us on an unexpected detour to the gate of the army base. I believe Eric was interested in seeing the inside of the base and his ‘curious’ white companions seemed like a good enough cover story for him. The guards on the gate summoned their commander, who was friendly enough, but not swayed by these curious Australians. He informed us that is was necessary to make an appointment to see the inside of the base, as he was sure it was in our own country. That was slightly embarrassing, especially since it was a completely reasonable assertion, and we had not even wanted to go there in the first place. But hey, these are all interesting experiences…

As a 10 year old child I remember adults talking of the terrible situation in Rwanda. It involved Hutus and Tutsis and violence. In my mind there were grass huts and angry people. In reality it was much worse…What happened in Rwanda in 1994 was cold, calculated genocide.

An accurate account of the happenings between 1990 and 1994 is likely non-existent, and the information contained in Kigali’s genocide museum is extremely biased. If you formed your opinions from the audio-guide, you would envisage the Hutus as devils with machetes, and the Tutsis as helpless lambs led to the slaughter. The truth is probably somewhat less polarised, but I will share a small snippet of what I have learnt none-the-less. 

Prior to Belgian colonisation, the Hutus and the Tutsis apparently lived in relative harmony. Official divisions between the tribes began as a Belgian initiative, requiring the natives to carry cards identifying their tribes. Hutus were the poor majority and Tutsis the wealthier minority. The Hutus were subjected to a system of slavery which maintained their underdog position in society for many decades. 

In 1959 the Hutus came into political power, and at this time many Tutsis fled for Uganda or other neighbouring countries. The Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) was formed in Uganda over the following decades, consisting of Tutsis from Rwanda. In 1990 the RPF invaded Rwanda, hoping to reinstate power to the Tutsi minority, starting a civil war that culminated in the genocide of over 800,000 Tutsis in 1994. 

Over the course of 100 days, as much as 20% of the countries population was murdered, in an attempt by the Hutus to finally rid themselves of the Tutsis. In many cases the Tutsis were betrayed by the pastors whose churches they were hiding in. Today many of the genocide memorials are churches where all that remains of the victims are piles of clothes and bones.

We visited two of these memorials on the outskirts of Kigali. The wooden pews were piled high with dirty, bloodstained clothes, and the crypts were filled with bones. Many of the skulls bore injuries testament to the machetes that destroyed them. One of the sunday school buildings has a large dark stain on the wall, where young children were flung against. It was a terrible, terrible thing, but Rwanda has done well in acknowledging what happened and attempting to do their best in moving on towards a peaceful society. 

Post genocide reforms have seen Rwanda into a much more stable time. It is now a peaceful place where the government is striving hard to eliminate corruption and build a fair society for its people. I only hope that the improvements continue…  

1st – 3rd October, 2012

Kigali is a small but bustling capital city, where the post-genocide reforms have resulted in a cleanliness and order seen in very few African cities. In fact, I think it is the only place I have been to which is now totally free of plastic bags. They have embraced the paper bag  like an old friend, and littering is an offense that can and will be punished! Very admirable. Apparently it is being set up as a new industrial and business centre in Sub-Saharan Africa, so the economy is set to soar. I’ll be interested to see what happens…with the new president taking a firm stance against corruption, we may bear witness to a success story yet.

I didn’t actually take any photos of Kigali, in part because we spent our time visiting the genocide memorials. Our short visit also did not leave a lot of time for wandering the city, so my experience was limited to the views from bus windows. It felt a little like a large village to me. Mud brick houses line the hillsides dispersed amongst small crops. Motorcycle-taxis (moto’s) convene on corners with their colourful helmets and official vests, waiting hopefully for business. There is a steady stream of people carrying all manner of objects on their heads from A to B. No one is really in a rush, but then, that’s Africa…

Stepping out onto the street, hailing down an already packed mini-van and wedging myself between a couple of locals brought it home for me…I’m in Africa again! And if I hadn’t remembered then, the bus station really brought it home. The chaos is almost majestic. Minivans sporting signs to all imaginable destinations are crammed in on top of each other. Young men in blue and green outfits run alongside taxis rapping on windows, enticing their occupants towards their bus. Legs and arms hang out of doors and windows as people try and cram themselves into moving vehicles. Insanity!

The last 6 months have had their challenging moments, but traveling through Latin America bears no comparison to the craziness of Africa. In saying that, it is not always hard, but it is never simple and you have to be prepared to give up all your expectations and to go with the flow.

We stayed in Discover Rwanda Youth Hostel, which was a friendly but basic place where we met lots of interesting people. It is situated in Kayciru, the leafy, upmarket part of Kigali where all the embassies and official buildings are located. Multiculturalism is at its height with a neighbouring Chinese restaurant that makes terrible dumplings, and a burrito bar down the road, where you can find half the ex-pat population. We met 3 Americans with whom we visited a couple of the churches significant in the genocide. I shall say a few words about the atrocities of 1994 below, but for now let me mention one more thing…

Australians…you can’t visit anywhere without running into Aussies. In Kigali we happened to be in the room next to Carly and Steve, medical students from Melbourne doing a placement at one of the hospitals. We shared drinks and then dinner (terrible dumplings) and bonded over all manner of things before saying goodnight. One of the sadnesses of onward travel is that you cannot always establish long lasting friendships with the people you meet, but in my opinion, the hellos are always worth the goodbyes.  

But now for something a little more serious…

Our visit to Kigali got off to a shaky start when the flight attendants in Istanbul asked for our visa approval letter. I felt a little weak at the knees as I stared blankly at them, feelings of impending doom sweeping in. I produced my American passport sheepishly and they looked relieved, glancing at Jason expectantly. But no…Jason does not have the luxury of dual citizenship to get him out of pickles such as this. All I can say is don’t believe the guide books when they tell you everything will be ok! Fortunately they let him on the plane in Istanbul with the warning that he might be sent back at the first opportunity. “Rwanda is a poor country” they said…”maybe you can work something out.”

After a nervous five hours we arrived in Kigali at midnight. It was the smell that hit me first…the tropical scent of humidity and greenery which is somehow unique to Africa. Inside the terminal was a young man collecting everyone’s paperwork. When he figured out Jason wasn’t meant to be there he just left us waiting. Then started the process of bargaining. “You have to get back on the plane,” he said with a questionable level of commitment. “Can we pay a bit more to get the process sped up?” we ask. “How much,” he asks. We go up and up and up…each time he shakes his head.

And then eventually, “What is the price of thank you in US dollars?” We were at a loss by this stage. Suddenly he takes the arrival form, signs it, and tells Jase to pay his visa fee so he can enter the country. Flabbergasted and extremely relieved, we asked no further questions, and proceeded through as legal visitors.