Picking up where we’d left off a month prior, we made our return to East Africa, flying into Entebbe, Uganda, near the capital of Kampala, on the shores of the great Lake Victoria. Upon leaving the terminal, the dirt entry and parking lot was calmer than anticipated, with a fair share of Mormon and other Christian missionaries awaiting the arrival of newcomers to help in their efforts that seem to be abnormally concentrated in this country more so than others in the region.
We didn’t plan on spending much time in the busy capital, instead lounging on the shores of the lake before catching a ride to the nearby backpacker’s haunt / weekend getaway of Jinja. I’d say we took a dip in the lake, but unfortunately, many bodies of water in Africa are home to a parasite called Bilharzia, which consists of microscopic snails that seep into your skin then lay eggs 6 weeks later. Sounds fun! The idea of Jinja being nearby is, of course, relative, as the short, 50-mile journey between the cities took no less than 3.5 hours, each way. Thankfully, the ride was made interesting by torrential downpours and endless street vendors at set intervals along the road, selling chicken sticks and matoke (think starchy bananas), along with corn nuts and greasy trail-mixes.
In Madagascar, I was mistakenly expecting one big rainforest, but, as it turns out, I was simply looking in the wrong country. Uganda is every shade of green, and then some. Dense forests, thick grasses, lines of matoke trees, sugar cane plantations, and rolling hills of tea bushes, it’s a literal breath of fresh air (outside of Kampala, that is). While this much green requires a fair amount of consistent rain, we never seemed to be too bothered by the short-lived storms.
Arriving in Jinja, we received our first real taste of backpacker life since we arrived in Africa. Equipped with a bar and restaurant overlooking the Nile River, with campsites, dorm beds, safari tent (glamping) options, and even a waterslide, tours were available for white water rafting, kayaking, sunset cruises along the river, you name it. The outdoor deck provided a view tough to beat. Jinja’s claim to fame is the chance to go white water rafting at the source of the Nile. Unfortunately, after the recent construction of a dam, the number of rapids has been more or less cut in half. Delaying our white-water adventures until Victoria Falls, we instead opted for a relaxing kayak along the shores and small islands of the river. Paddling along the verdant green riverside, we encountered another family laundry day, accompanied by shouts and laughs from the shore, a cacophony of the term used by most all East Africans for white person: Mzungu! Exploring the river islands, we found dozens of different bird species, some brightly colored, some a beautiful black and white. The shores and islands teemed with life. A few fishermen had found their honey holes tucked on the back side of one island, as the currents must have drawn the fish right to them. After a paddling up stream, we began the journey back with a dip in the pleasant waters of the Nile, surrounded by the greenest of hills, save for a few resorts dotted here and there. Nobody around but the birds, complete freedom reigned. As if the sky was somewhat jealous, it didn’t take long before the clouds decided it was their turn to rain. Being caught in a torrential downpour in the middle of a kayak on the Nile River may sound like your version of hell or heaven, depending on your personality, but for us, it was pure bliss. We made our way back across the river to our dock, not caring in the slightest about the driving rain, just us and the birds. Oh, and the giant monitor lizards waiting for us on shore. We slept well that night, to the chorus of cackling monkeys, the cracking of thunder, and the pattering of rain on the tent.
Exploring the town of Jinja a bit, which required a 30-minute ride on the back of a motorbike taxi (Boda Boda) through potholed dirt roads in the pouring rain (noticing a theme?), we noticed a few more western touches than we’d seen in the last month. Coffee shops serving avocado toast, filled with Westerners swapping stories of how much good they’re doing in the area, or the churches they’re running. While much good can come from the help, there’s also clearly a bit of “White Savior Industrial Complex” going on with many who are here. Speaking of churches, Ugandans are quite religious. We passed dozens of small Christian churches, in the most remote of places, enthusiastically worshipping from makeshift stages and extremely loud (and blown out) speakers.
Heading further east, we made our way towards Lake Nkuruba, a small, crater lake with a quaint campsite just above, perfect for another couple days of Ugandan glamping. The journey there was quite the undertaking, consisting of the 3-hour ride back to Kampala, then 6-hour bus across the country as the only Mzungus in sight, then finally a 30-minute car ride up into the hills to our lovely lakeside home. The bus ride was somewhat tame compared to others, as we first listened to an exuberant preacher pray over half a dozen bus riders before hopping off at the edge of town, then watched a couple hours’ worth of social-issue / politically driven music videos on the screen, then nervously watched the bus navigate around baboons scattered in the roadway as we drove through a National Park. The highlight of the ride however, was during a bathroom break in which we found the crown jewel of Ugandan cuisine: the Rolex. Rolex sounds like “Rolled Eggs,” which is basically what we’re dealing with here. A thin omelet wrapped in a homemade chapati (tortilla + grease), with a couple tomatoes thrown in for good measure. It must be up there with the best 60 cents I’ve ever spent. You can find street stands everywhere, and you most definitely should if you happen to find yourself in Uganda.
Our 2 days on the shores of Lake Nkuruba were spent lounging by the lake, hiking through the hills to more crater lakes, viewpoints, and small villages, in depth conversations about Africa with ex-pats away for the weekend, and watching black and white Colobus monkeys swing through the giant trees surrounding. We also happened upon the perfect addition to the Rolex. Walking through most rural parts of Africa, you’ll find fruit or vegetables randomly stacked up in front of someone’s house, or just on the roadside. Often times, kids will throw rocks into mango trees to get them down, or pick what they can from what’s available to try to sell. We happened upon a gold mine during our walk through the hills, as we found an unmanned pile of giant avocados on a blanket, which were very nearly the size of my head. After finding the owners, I made the best 30 cent purchase of my life, a creamy avocado that fed a group of 6 for two meals. What more could you ask for?
The last body of water in Uganda turned out to be the most serene. That is, after we got stuck in another driving rainstorm whilst canoeing across the giant lake for nearly an hour with all our bags in tow. Lake Bunyonyi sits in the southwest corner of Uganda, and is filled with a few dozen islands, some of which contain eco lodges geared towards supporting the inhabitants of the small islands. While we weren’t necessarily weary after having glamped our way through the beautiful countryside of Uganda, the lake itself is the perfect respite from life on the road. We chose to stay at Byoona Amagara, in an open air, thatch roof geodome, with a view of lake, it’s surrounding hills, and nothing else. The lodge provided transport options to get to its island home: a motorboat for a fee, or the free canoe ride. We went with canoe, and we got soaked, and I was dead tired after having to help get us across the massive lake, but hey, at least we earned the serenity. Watching the sun set from the front deck before crawling under the mosquito net surrounding the bed, listening to the sounds of life around and the soft waves of the lakeshore below had me questioning whether I could really be considered a backpacker anymore. The following morning, we walked around the island, joined by a group of adolescent girls that started following us halfway through, leading us to their favorite spots, not a care in the world, happy as can be to talk with us, play games, pick fruit from the trees, and show off their English. I laugh to myself thinking what it would look like back home if parents just let their children run off with a group of tourists passing by. Not talking to strangers hasn’t made its way to these parts yet, thankfully.
Without a care in the world, after learning and teaching some new games to our new friends, we took a quick dip in the chilly lake and made our way back to the bungalow, for another sunset on another lake after another blissful day in another jewel of a country.
Life is Good.