A week in a rural village

There are 21 of us crammed into a 12 seater van. Our bags are on our laps and at our feet are sacks of rice and fresh produce from the markets. Arms and legs are entangled and bodies fit into the curves of the people sitting beside you. The plan was to be on the road by 10am, but this is ‘Africa time’ and we get on the bus at 5pm. The journey takes about an hour and by the time we get off the bus it is dark. The village we are traveling to is not accessible by road so bodas (motorbike taxis) take us the remainder of our journey. Balancing on the back of the boda, I am wearing my backpack and on each knee I have a bag of supplies. The road is dusty and potholed and I watch a lightening storm light up the night sky in the distance. We are deep in rural Uganda. The village has no electricity or running water, many families have no access to latrines or health care. Sanitation and hygiene is poor and the prevalence of HIV/AIDS and other diseases is high. The life expectancy in these villages is around 42 years for men and 45 years for women. Over the next 2 years FREDA will work closely with village leaders to help the community identify their needs and be supported in making changes. During this visit will be meeting with different groups in the village and facilitating discussions and education sessions about health, hygiene, sanitation, nutrition and domestic violence. Our messages are basic – the importance of washing hands with soap and water, keeping latrines covered to reduce germ transmission by flies, boiling drinking water, HIV/AIDS and eating fruits and vegetables. Arriving in the village in at night means we attract little attention. We have been given the newest house in the village to stay at. It has two small rooms, concrete floor and corrugated iron roof. There is one window which has piece of cardboard where the glass should be and apart from the woven sleeping mats on the floor the house is empty. Later, two foam mattresses are brought to the house – they look well used and have a slightly urinary smell to them. I am grateful at the gesture but feel uncomfortable knowing that a family in the village has given up their beds for us. We take a walk out the back to find the latrine drop toilet which is shared by nearby houses. To get to it we need to go over a pile of dirt, past a pile of wood, past the burning rubbish pit and around the goats and chickens. It seems that the latrine is home to about 50 huge cockroaches which are running up and down the walls. I really hope that I don’t need to use it during the night.  Dinner is served late in the village, often not until 10pm, so we decide to take a walk around the village. We are invited in for a drink at the local pub. We sit on low wooden benches beneath the thatched roof. The floor is mud. We are offered some of the local spirit, made from fermented matoke (green bananas). The white liquor is poured from an old coke bottle into a glass. Even in the dull light from the kerosene lamp I can see how dirty the communal glass is. The drink is strong and burns my throat. It tastes like a mixture of cheap tequila and rubbing alcohol. I figure that the alcohol should at least kill any germs on the glass.  For dinner we are served a huge bowl of cooked green bananas before bunking down for an unsettled night on the floor. We wake to a beautiful summer’s day and it is already hot. Word has spread quickly around the village that we are here and we have many visitors who come past to see us. It is the first time that muzungu (white people) have come to the village and people seem excited that we are here. We walk to a nearby school to talk with the children about sanitation and hygiene as well as HIV/AIDS. On the way we pass children who have skipped school and are sitting on the roadside digging for ants to eat. These ants are huge and look more like flying grasshoppers. For lunch we are served half a fish each (head, eyes, tail, fins and skin attached) which we eat with our hands. In the afternoon we walk about 4km to a nearby village to meet with a group of women. They are gathered on mats in the shade under a tree. Later on we take a walk to Lake Victoria. At the lake fishermen are coming back in, children stand on the waters edge filling jerry cans and women wash clothes laying them on the grass to dry. We walk home watching the sun set. Many of the houses we pass are made from mud with grass roofs. Children run around naked and goats, chickens and pigs roam freely. As we walk by heads peak around doorways and trees. Children are either intrigued by our light skin or cry in fear and run away. Most have never seen a white person before. A family offers us a bowl of fried bugs which they are eating for dinner. I know how rude it is to decline food that is offered. I am also touched by the fact that this family has nothing and most likely don’t know what they will eat tomorrow but still invite us to eat with them. The bugs have little taste apart from the oil they have been fried in but it is the texture as I crunch on them that I struggle with the most. We are offered another local drink. It is in a plastic container on the floor with 6 long wooden straws coming out of it. The drink looks like a thick muddy paste it had a strong yeast taste and is gritty in texture. One sip is enough for me.  We head home, tired and exhausted. I am looking forward to being able to wash as we have walked close to 10km today and I am covered in red dust and sweat. We are given a plastic basin and about a litre of water which I take out the back. As we get ready to go to bed the giant moth we had seen last night reappears and starts swooping around the room, it turns out to be a bat. Travis comes to the rescue and is able to catch it. While this is going on I am ducking every time it comes near me and Cait is curled up in a ball in the corner with her scarf over her head.  A group of children are waiting outside our door in the morning and we play ball with them before we set off for the day. Most of the children in the village are suffering from malnutrition, they have skinny arms and legs and their stomachs are distended due to a diet low in calories and protein and high in carbohydrates. It is heart breaking to see. We speak at school in the morning and walk to another village in the afternoon. On the way we come across a group of girls aged about 3 to 6 years. They walk with us the rest of the way, holding our hands and singing. An old and possibly senile lady runs out to greet us when we arrive, she dances around, sings and hugs us, before making a yodel like noise. I think she is excited we are here. The whole village has come to listen to us and the session goes really well. Back at the village we are staying at we meet with the youth in the evening. We head home on Thursday after planting a community vegetable garden and running a session on nutrition. I am sad to leave this village which has welcomed us with open arms, I have loved my time here and being a part of village life and look forward to the ongoing work we will do with this village over the next few months.

Axx

Welcome to Uganda!

Upon reaching the Ugandan border, we left the bus to walk across the border and apply for our visa in the immigration office.  We were surprisingly greeted in English (one of the first times since being in Africa), paid our $50 US, and were granted entry into Uganda for 3 months.  The landscape and people in Uganda were noticeably different; trash littered the dirt roads, people weren’t smiling much, and we began driving on the left-hand side of the road.  After stopping to get gas about 2 hours into the trip, we headed back out on the road and saw plastic bags and bottles whizzing past our window; all the bus passengers began throwing their out their trash.  We were both a bit horrified but tried to hide our shock as everyone else assumed littering was completely acceptable.  8 hours on the bus, and we arrived in Kampala; the capital and main city in Uganda.  We took a taxi to a local backpackers called Red Chili and tried to regroup and relax.  After meeting another friendly backpacker, an American guy working in Sudan (but in Uganda for a couple weeks), we went out for a yummy Indian meal at the local mall.  The next day, our coordinator, Leslie picked us up, along with a couple fellow volunteers who had just flown into the country.  Leslie was bubbly, positive, and honest about our time in Uganda.  She brought us to the new volunteer house; quite a bit different to where we stayed in Rwanda.  To start, about 10 minutes after we arrived we heard a crashing noise and ran outside to find that a moto driver had skidded off the road and hit a man and a woman holding her baby (the first of 3 crashes we would see within 4 days).  Thankfully all involved were okay, but a shocking sight to see the first few minutes at our new home.  The moto drivers in Uganda are all unlicensed, without helmets, and decidedly a bit scarier than what we had experienced in Rwanda.  The shower at our new home consists of a square concrete room with a hole in the corner and a few buckets along the edges.  To bathe, we must (in a variety of positions) scoop the water from the bucket over our body.  When “nature calls”, we have to climb down four flights of stairs armed with our flip flops, headlamp, toilet paper, and scarf wrapped tightly around our faces (imagine a burglar).  The latrine is a small cement box with a hole in the middle that is rarely cleaned, covered in cockroaches, and the worst smelling toilet I have ever encountered.  We have come up with a strategy to spray one of my scarves with perfume, and then wrap it tightly around our faces, with the headlamp securely on our foreheads.  Because we are uncertain as to what the walls, door, and surroundings may be covered in, it is necessary to balance carefully over the hole while squatting to avoid touching anything.  Clearly it is not the most pleasant experience, but one that is part of many local Ugandans’ lives.  Another common occurrence in Uganda is power outages; we’ve had dinner by flashlight 3 of the 4 nights here already. 

We met our manager, Travis, a local Ugandan man who runs the NGO called FREDA (Foundation for the Relief and Development of Africa) here in Mukono, Uganda.  It’s a grassroots organization that works deep in villages to educate locals about topics like sanitation, HIV/AIDS, domestic violence prevention, nutrition, and sex education.  Travis is open-minded, funny, and passionate about equal rights and development in Uganda.  Growing up poor, and now with a family of his own; he really believes in a positive future for the country. 

Travis took us out to “shake bones” as he calls dancing at a local bar.  While we made up some dance moves (the chicken, nature calls, and making chapatti), we sampled the local beer and tunes.  The next night, our house mum/cook Jackie taught us how to cook over charcoal.  After lighting the coals with plastic (probably not the healthiest fumes to be inhaling), we waited for the coals to heat up, chopped veggies, and chatted about recipes.  We had to fight her a bit when cooking the vegetables for our Africa “stir-fry”, when we wanted to take them off the heat but she insisted they were only half cooked.  Our first week in Uganda has been very overwhelming and exciting, and we’re looking forward to our first week of work in a rural village on Monday J

xo Cait

Last week in Rwanda

For our last week in Rwanda, Amy spent her time up at the rural health clinic in Gisenyi helping test people for HIV, deliver babies and help with emergency care.  I decided to stay in Kigali and work with the women’s cooperative.

For International Women’s Day, I brought in cookies and nail polish to give the women a pamper day while they worked on their crafts.  They devoured the cookies while I painted their nails either pink or red (some of them had never painted their toe nails before!); a much needed break from their usual days of survival and stress.  That afternoon, I took one of the girls that FVA looks after (pays her school fees, helps with rent, etc.) to the local market to buy some new clothes.  Janine lives alone with her father, who is an alcoholic and abusive, where they share a bed (we are hoping the abuse isn’t sexual).  FVA worked with the local community to move her into a new home with a family friend.  Whenever she came by the office, she always seemed to be in her school uniform.  My boss told me she only has a few other clothes, so usually wears her uniform most days.  After trying on a few tops and pants, we tried to bargain with the market vendor to get a good deal on the second hand clothes.  When he tried to charge me twice what a local would pay, I decided to give Janine the money and hide behind the corner of the next stall.  Our strategy worked!  We got some new tops, a pair of pants, and a new pair of shoes, and topped it all of with a cold mango juice on the walk home.  It made me really appreciate all the times my parents took me back-to-school shopping; that so many kids over here never get that experience.  Janine was beaming all the way home.  Although I was sad to say goodbye, it was reassuring that Janine was in a new, safe home and had a smile on her face.  The rest of the week was spent paying for school fees for 9 of the womens' children; thanks again donors :)  One of the women was so grateful she had FVA's driver deliver a hand-beaded pen, set of handmade coasters, and a beautifully written thank you card (in English and Kinyarwanda of course) to our guesthouse.

After finishing our evaluation report to our managers, we set about saying goodbye to all the wonderful friends we had made while in Rwanda.  We had a farewell dinner at our favorite pizza place Sole Luna, and had our last night out at our favorite night spot Papyrus where we danced the night away.  The day before leaving we lied by the Embassy pool, bbq’d and talked about how much we’d miss Rwanda.  We procrastinated so badly that by midnight, we still hadn’t packed (the worst part being that our bus was at 5am the next morning).  To top it all off, our driver to the bus arrived 15 minutes late by foot, and our car wouldn’t start.  Thankfully we arrived at the bus while everyone was boarding, and started our journey to Uganda.  We will never forget the experiences and friends we’ve made in Rwanda.  To put it into words, it was challenging, fun, frustrating, exciting, confusing, and wonderful all at the same time.

Xo Cait

Uganda Update

So Amy and I have to apologize for being so delayed with our next posts.  Unfortunately we had three new entries on the way that were saved on my computer, which has since been stolen.  Although my bedroom was locked whenever we left the house, it must have been stolen while we were in the house.  Luckily my insurance will cover this loss, as long as I get a police report, but we are now without a computer for the next four months.  We will of course attempt to re-write some of the lost posts and put up some new pictures, but until we have access to another computer it may take us a while with work, etc.  Other than the laptop being gone (one of our only sources of entertainment!) Uganda has been great.  Mukono is definitely closer to the Africa we had imagined; streets are chaotic and a bit scary, the toilets are latrines that are 4 flights of stairs down from the house, there is no television, and electricity comes and goes throughout the day.  We are very excited to start work tomorrow, where we will head to a rural village about an hours drive and educate villagers about sanitation, nutrition, HIV, safe sex, and other health issues.  Wish us luck, and we will be in touch as soon as we can!

xo Cait

Gorilla Encounter

The alarm pierced the silence of the night and the three of us sat up sleepily under our mosquito nets rubbing our eyes as they adjusted to the light. Was it already 5.15am? The excitement of the day ahead dawned on us quickly and we were soon out of bed showering and packing the essentials for the day. Dressed in layers of clothes we climbed into the land rover which would take us the headquarters of Parc National des Volcans. At 7.00am gorilla groups are assigned and a briefing is held over a cup of hot coffee.  We were hoping to request to the Susa group and had arrived early knowing that nearly everyone who shows up to the park headquarters each morning is gunning to track this group. The Susa group, the largest gorilla group with 29
members, is also the hardest group to reach and we were prepared for a potentially long, wet and cold trek through the steep slopes of the rain forest. We were in luck, we had arrived early enough and looked
fit enough to be assigned to Susa group. Sitting next to our guide, with the rest of the group in vehicle
ahead of us, we drove for around an hour through villages and over solidified lava flows along the base of the Karisimbi volcano to reach the point were we would start the trek. With wooden trekking poles we
set off walking through the alpine meadows. Fields of potatoes and waist high daisys boarded the grass track. The towering mist covered volcanoes made a breath taking backdrop. Women with babies strapped to
their backs worked in the fields and groups of children ran to greet us. We commented that perhaps the trek wasn't going to be as hard as we had initially thought. The guide overheard this comment and informed
us that we hadn't started the trek yet - the first 40 minutes was just the walk to the edge of Parc National des Volcans. Climbing over a knee high stone wall, we were know in the Parc which is home to the remaining 810 mountain gorillas left in the world. Initially on a track, the ascent started off gently with a gradual climb through the dense bamboo. Later we moved off the track and scrambled for hours through dense vegetation and up steep muddy hillsides, pulling ourselves up on branches and vines. The climb was strenuous and the
thin air at the higher altitude made it hard to breath. With tentative steps we cautiously climbed across a canopy of vines. Leading the group our guide sliced through hanging vines and the thick overgrowth
of stinging nettles using a machete. We had been advised to wear long sleeved clothing as we may encounter stinging nettles. What they hadn't mentioned was that we would be crawling through stinging nettles for
close to an hour and that light weight clothing would do little to protect against the nettles which easily penetrated through our layers of clothes. Our hands, arms and legs stung with the fiery skin rash. It was at
least a good distraction from our burning lungs and headache from the altitude. A group of trackers had set off an hour earlier than us to locate the group, however 3 hours into our trek the trackers radioed through advising they had not yet found them. An hour later, at an altitude of 3200 meters, our guide found discards of bamboo shoots and announced that the gorillas had passed through where we were within the last hour. Minutes later the radio crackled. The trackers had found them and we were really close! We left our bags in a clearing, taking only our cameras with us. Walking single file, the excitement and anticipation of the group could be felt in the air. The guide made our presence known through a series of calls and grunts before coming to a sudden halt. In unison the group gasped. Less than 3 meters away sat a giant silverback crunching nosily on wild celery. It was incredible to be face to face with a 400kg gorilla. No bars, no windows. A humble guest in his domain. We stood in silence watching on in amazement. We moved on after a while to
find the rest of the Susa family knowing they would be close to the silverback, the head of their family. I don't think anything can quite prepare you for the moment when you come upon a gorilla group in the wild; the first glimpse of a black juvenile climbing up a tree, it's mother watching protectively on from nearby; the rustling of foliage and crunching of bamboo as a gorilla reaches for a second bamboo shoot and when a giant silver back rises to size you up. The group was moving and foraging as they feed so we spend much of the next hour on
the move with them. While watching a fully grown female groom herself, one of the guides noticed more of the Susa group ahead and motioned for us to move forwards. The female we had been observing seemed
unfazed by the first half of our group passing by her.  As I moved forward I was aware that she was starting to move. There were two paths that she could take and I was right in the middle. Not wanting to block her path, I stood still feeling fairly calm and expecting her meander past me on one of the two tracks. My heart began to beat a little faster, and was soon pounding as I realized that this 200kg gorilla is now coming directly towards me. What do I do? Do I move slowly forwards? Tip toe backwards? Crouch down? Run? My mind is racing and I think back to the briefing earlier in the day and realize with a sickening feeling that they didn't cover this. We learnt about what gorillas eat, how they breed and about the Susa group but nothing about what to do should a gorilla have you in its sights and moving at pace towards you. I am not aware of anything else around me at this stage and time is moving in slow motion. The gorilla is close enough that I can hear her breathing. Next I realize is that her giant hand is reaching towards me and that she has a firm grip on the calf of my leg. She releases her grip and I feel Cait's hand grab on to my arm pulling me backwards and she is telling me to move. As we step back I exhale not realizing that I had been holding my breath. The gorilla has now turned away and is moving in the opposite direction and Cait and I are taking steady steps backwards. The female glances back over her shoulder at us and then turns. Cait and I freeze. We stand there clinging to each as the gorilla once again is coming towards us. At this point Cait is convinced that we are going to be killed or the very least end up missing limbs or parts of our faces. Our friend Adrian, who is watching on helplessly, told us later that they look on our faces was priceless. Cait and I start backing away, and from somewhere behind the guide assures us it is ok but that we need to get
out of here. He turns and runs, leaving Cait and I no longer in danger but alone in the jungle with 29 gorillas in close vicinity. Meanwhile, Adrian, who was with the second guide and the other half of our group, is also having an up close encounter with 4 gorillas. Having found themselves surrounded by a circle of 4 gorillas, including 2 silverback, they looked to their guide for directions on what they were going to do. The guide
simply replied, "we are trapped". Nothing like stating the obvious. After a few moments one of the silverbacks moved forwards to walk off, gently backhanding the guide as he walked by sending the guide to the ground. Cait and I soon found the rest of the group and were later reunited with Adrian's half of the group. Our hour with the gorillas was now up. The walk back down was slippery in the rain and we came across another 5 gorillas on the way. It was late afternoon by the time we got back to the car, exhausted and covered in mud and with amazing memories and tales of coming face to face with gorillas in the wild. An experience we will never forget.
Axx