Showing posts with label Uganda. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Uganda. Show all posts

Monday, October 25, 2010

Insight into Ethiopia....


After a day in Addis Ababa, the capital of Ethiopia we are convinced that ‘Addis’ is a very different African city in most respects, in terms of internet though...same old, same old! We dedicate our first day in town to our basic errands, this means the following ‘fun’ chores; 1. Get cranky at the bastard who stole our laptop in South Africa with all my photography programs on it whilst I download my photos using a substandard version of a program whilst listening to Spencer side with the computer and tell me ‘it’s not the computer it’s too many photos’ and that ‘I didn’t really like the other computer anyway’....2. Get a sore back whilst leaning over on an impossible angle to scrub ingrained dust from our clothing...3. Find an internet place where I can use my computer 4. Find an internet place where I can use my own computer and it won’t take me until the year 2020 to upload photos...4.  Crack the craps with the slow internet connection whilst trying to upload photos, again blame the bastard who stole the computer with the program for reducing the resolution of photos! 5. Get cranky at the internet bloke as surely it is somehow his fault that African internet is as slow as glacial movement 6. Upload detailed account of our adventures onto my blog, not at all easy in Ethiopia as it appears that blog sites are blocked, yeah you can upload the blog, but you cannot check that it’s actually there, thanks Megs for being a ‘night owl’ and being the only person online to check it from Australia and message me to tell me it’s all OK! 7. Umm and arrr over purchasing a new pair of jeans or a hat...but buy nothing as they are not ‘like my old ones’ get cranky at the low life bastard that has my favourite hat and jeans!
So we set off on foot, the first walking we have done since Uganda and the first African city walking we have done since Cape Town. I have my money belt hidden inside my undies and pants and am keeping a close eye on Spencers backpack and make him tie up the waist strap, he usually calls me a ‘loser’ or ‘safety sam’ when I make these requests, but hearing more and more stories he is just accepting of my paranoia these days. Safety Sam’s safe tenting in Africa tips; 1. Purchase a sleeping bag with a valuables pocket built in, use this for passport, cash and external hard drive of photos, if all of these things don’t fit, put them in your money belt (no Safety Sam would be caught without one) and tie it to the inside of your sleeping bag near your feet, then sleep IN your sleeping bag! 2. Tie all daypacks together and clip them to a noisy plastic bag, have these located as close to you in the tent as possible, best to have them located in the middle of the tent 3. Ensure limited people see you actually put your pack in your tent before bed 4. Clip your conglomeration of day packs and noisy plastic bags to the zipper of your sleeping bag zipper so that if someone is to slash your tent they have to steal all the bags and sleeping bag with you in it to get at your things....err, I know this goes against my ‘newfound’ principals of spreading your gear out so that if someone is to steal it they just pick and choose the good stuff and leave you with all the worthless gear (to them, but all the mementos that you actually really wanted to keep!)
But anyways, back to the walking, so after the first internet cafe failed to deliver the goods, or actually download a page in 19 minutes we headed off through the wood sales area, along a new freeway and found a modern shopping centre, after spying a bakery we decided that we were in fact hungry, but after walking into the bakery we decided that a crusty bread roll was not for us! We headed upstairs and had a three course lunch of salad, fish and vegies (me), veggie burger (Spencer) and tiramisu (me) and Éclair with hot chocolate (Spencer) all under $8AUD, and good food! There has been a lot of talk on the truck of all the starving Ethiopian jokes of our childhood ‘have you ever tasted Ethiopian food?’, ‘no’, ‘neither have they’ and of course the old Ethiopian in a stack hat joke, well they are really far off the mark, Ethiopian food is really good and in the south it is in abundant supply at ridiculously cheap prices, you can buy four whole chooks for around $7AUD, and they throw in a free chook filleting knife (but wait there’s more!, you get a free plastic bag to keep the chooks in on the truck, until you get to camp, pluck, skin and chop the poor things)
In the shopping centre I had a small ‘language difficulty problem’ associated with the toilet (I know, I know, it’s always SOMETHING to do with a toilet...honestly when someone invents something to stop all bladder and bowel movements for the term of travel in Africa, African travel will become so much easier!) I had been desperate for the toilet as the ones in the campground are pretty close to unusable, and that’s saying a whole lot. There was something wrong with the plumbing so you had to bucket the water from outside, into the smallest cubicles (honestly you hit your knees on the rusted through, holey metal doors) and even with litres and litres of water a decent African style traveller’s liquid poo will not disappear! Hence all of the solid ones are still floating about...worst still, as the plumbing is so bad toilet paper is not to go in the bowl, it goes in a bin beside it, so you are sitting beside an open waste basket with everyone else’s poo streaked poo tickets staring at you, and the smell! Pheww! And that’s not starting on the mess that is the squat toilet! Men’s and women’s toilets are together and the smell can be experienced from quite a distance away...this was how it was that I ended up in the shopping centre in dire need of a loo. So I first go to walk into the men’s, then realise when I hear a lady say something to me in Arhabic... all good, me thinks, so I head to the females a short distance away, the kind lady is still saying something to me in Arhabic...I don’t speak one word of it, (hey I haven’t even been in the city 24 hours) so I assume she is just telling me that I am now in the right place, I start to open the door and realise that she is still talking...hmmm, have the door open by now she is standing up and walking fast towards me, wondering what she wants and figuring I have to pay for the toilet before I use it I stand there stupidly with the door open, then to my absolute astonishment I hear a voice from inside! A lady was in there washing her butt and I had the door opened for everyone passing by in the shopping centre to see in, the kind lady closed the door and I realised that she had actually been saying ‘there’s someone in there’ in English that accented that I hadn’t recognised it! My facial expressions and ‘mybad’ style of head hanging did bring a chuckle out of the lady, I scurried away and luckily found another toilet nearby...and just for your amusement, I started to walk into the men’s before I was quickly corrected!
As I’ve said Ethiopia is different, so is how they tell the time, when the sun rises it is 12 o’clock, one hour after sun rise it is 1 o’clock so on, the sun sets at 12 o’clock, (6 o’clock normal time), after it has been dark for one hour it is 1 o’clock. How do you tell 1 o’clock from 1 o’clock, from the other 1 o’clock (yeah there are three 1 o’clocks everyday in Ethiopia) you use ‘in the morning’, ‘evening’ or ‘night’ to distinguish between them! But if you thought that was confusing...the dates are also different, Ethiopia has 12 months of 30 days and a 13th month of either five or six days, so the outcome of this is that Ethiopia is 7 ½ years behind normal calendars, making it 21/4/2003, making me 23 ½ years old...hmm shame my appearance didn’t change back 7 ½ years as I crossed the border!
We took a taxi into the city to check out St George cathedral, we walked in and I started taking photos, I got three or four off before a man came over and told me that I wasn’t allowed, glad that he didn’t insist on deleting the photos. We were then channelled into the St Georges museum, defiantly no photos allowed there either. There was some pretty old and amazing gear in there, an array of artefacts of the emperor era and the Christian church, old emperor clothing, paintings which needed a good clean and to be put behind glass, old crowns, umbrellas, the man who took us through the museum kept talking about ‘utopia’ and asking if I had seen ‘Utopia’ food places in Australia...it took me most of the tour until I realised that he was actually saying ‘Ethiopia!’, from there we were urged to climb the narrow and winding stairs to see the bell tower, thinking I would get a good view out, I took on the stairs with no handrails to be greeted at the top by four enclosed sides but the biggest bell I have ever seen, about 1m in diameter, my thoughts at that moment were dedicated to ‘just how well is the bell attached to the tower?’ We were then led into the St Georges cathedral, shoes off and seated amongst a procession of bell ringing and humming and drumming of a procession, not being great on religion facts, I am not sure of the name of this procession, but do know that it was a great experience to see. We headed into the centre of the cathedral to view some of the most amazing wall murals I have ever seen (sorry I do realise that I keep saying “the best I have ever seen!” all the way through Africa!, but so true!) even Spencer was impressed at these murals, I was surprised to be allowed to photograph the murals and the inside of the cathedral, although most photos were off the inconspicuous ‘little camera’ the attention drawing ‘big camera’ only came out for a couple of pics!
From there we started the walk to the Ethnological Museum; I completely blame Lonely Planets dodgy maps for my geographical embarrassment, after walking for about 5 minutes I realised that I was in trouble, after an hour I had to admit defeat! We did see some great sights during our walk and defiantly saw parts of Addis Ababa that very few tourists see, we stumbled across the Merkato market, and had a stroll through it, quite glad that Ethiopian touts are not as advanced as other places and will actually listen to ‘no’. After realising that we had walked in the complete opposite direction than we should have from St Georges I insisted that we jump in a taxi to get to the ethnological museum as an ‘easy way out’ ha ha, nothing is easy in Africa! The first taxi driver that we spoke to had no idea what we were talking about, I showed him lonely planet and said the name and address several times, (the chinese remade all the street signs in Addis and stuffed them all up, so maps don’t match the signs!) he still did not understand and by this time we have about 50 people standing around us watching the ‘foreigners’, we walk a little further up the road, followed by roughly 50% of the audience and find another taxi, this time there is a man nearby who is able to tell our driver the location we want to go....Our intended address was ‘lost in translation’ somewhere between our departure point and the National Museum of Ethiopia, no energy left for taxis or trying to communicate in Arhabic of ‘Arhabenglish’ we settled for the National Museum, which was really enjoyable. We viewed the bones of ‘Lucy’ a 3.2 million year old fossil of a hominoid discovered in 1974, which stood upright so is believed to be the oldest relative of mankind. There was a great array of exhibits, however little to no interpretation of what they were, we were able to take photos of all the exhibits, which again surprised me, Ethiopia appears to have a hot or cold approach to photography! After we finished there we headed across the road for lunch, I cracked the crankies at Spencer and blamed him for me ending up with a non-impressive pasta, it was his advice of ‘just pay the extra 5 birr (33 cents) and get the vegetable pasta’ I just wanted tomato and was just going to order the plain tomato, but assumed that the vegies would be in a tomato sauce...no, just dry looking pasta and vegies, but I didn’t admit to him that it actually tasted better than it looked, he however ate the last half and quite enjoyed it! Next cranky moment came when my long awaited strawberry juice arrived, in a shot glass! With a huge straw! I looked at it with disgust and immediately ordered a coke to go with it, then started about bitching and whinging about someone charging 18 birr (about 1.20 AUD) for a shot of juice when a glass bottle of soft drink was 5 birr (40 odd cents), Spencer tells me ‘well you had to know that it wasn’t going to be very big, have you seen strawberries growing anywhere, they must cost a lot, that’s why the drink is so little’, so I slowly sip my juice and get even crankier as it was absolutely delicious and I would have liked for than 20ml of the gear....then 15 minutes later I am brought a large glass of the said strawberry juice! The ‘shot’ turned out to be a ‘taste test!’ the lady waiter must have though me strange to sip the taste test so slowly!
Whilst we were eating local kids tried to sell us chewing gum, taxi and other unwanted items that we didn’t hear what they were, but knew we didn’t need. I was shocked at the amount of kids selling on the streets, and then realised that it was a Saturday, however after consulting the local school statistics I realised that there would probably be as many kids selling gum on a Monday. Only 52% of kids attend primary school and only 12% attend secondary school, hence only 38% of Ethiopians are literate (I do wonder just how many words you must be able to spell and read to be considered ‘literate’) If all kids attended school the workforce would be cut by about half, many families put their kids to work in the fields rather than school. Kids, women and donkeys work hard here, you see women walking miles and miles with huge loads of firewood on their backs, just tied up with rope and sat on their backs, they have to slouch and hunch to keep the wood in place, apparently most loads are around 35kg. It is far too common to see young kids herding cattle, goats, or ugly sheep (I have named ‘Shoats’ as they look like a goat got in with a sheep), sometimes the cows are higher than the kids leading them along the roads, you also see kids carrying impossible loads, if kids in Australia were seen doing such there would be quite a few questions the parents would have to answer! If I ever come back into this world again, I hope that it is not as a donkey in Ethiopia. They are worked and worked and worked and then worked some more, you see them with massive loads of firewood, some loads that would look ridiculously big on the back of a truck, and the donkeys just have to walk along getting belted with a stick because they are not going fast enough! In the rural areas much of the transport is using donkeys, or if you are ‘well off’ you may have a horse, the donkeys are used with wagons to carry families and gear and another stragglers...poor donkeys...and they are such nice looking donkeys too, grey with a white nose and white knees and a black stripe down their shoulder, if I could get an African donkey back into Australia I would save one and start the Bandy Donkey Sanctuary....
We left Addis and dropped into the Great Rift Valley again, at the top of the escarpment it was so cold that I was wearing thermals, polofleece and a maasai blanket (I had thought the Maasai blanket would get a run on the truck as some stage, but didn’t think it would have it’s maiden voyage in Ethiopia!, we were at  about 3000m asl then we dropped about 1000m and the temperature increased by about 10 degrees, t-shirt weather. We then began the climb back up, blanket came back out! Everyone’s cameras were firing as we crossed the blue Nile gorge, it was such a great view down and up that it was worth the cold of having the canvas sides rolled up! But honestly the countryside of Ethiopia is nothing like what you expect, it is green, lush with terraced crops on every available plot...nothing like the image that comes to mind when one says Ethiopia!
We stopped for lunch after climbing back out of the great rift, the menu was all in arhabic and there was little to no English spoken. Nobody seemed to get the right order; I didn’t get mine at all, until I pointed at someone’s egg and bread and made a sign for ‘1’. Spencer ordered the traditional Ethiopian injera, which is a flat bread of a weird texture (like tripe) served with 6-8 dips on it. He asked for it with no meat, I was not confident that this was understood. It came out with one meat pile on it, best avoided. I liked the look of the goats cheese and tomato relish type concoction so I gave my egg coated with curry sauce a rest and dug into the tomato looking gear...and didn’t think at the time that it was all that bad....a couple of minutes later someone pointed out that the tomato concoction was actually raw meat! Urghh! Much to the amusement of everyone else! I completely blame one of our travelling companions who had said previously “maybe today is the day you stop being a vegetarian” ha ha, usually I can taste meat, but I think the whole raw factor disguised the whole situation, plus it was laced with chilli, even the meat eaters took a while to decide what it was, the waiter confirmed it. Now I fear that I will have a massive tapeworm as excess luggage when I arrive back in Australia!
We arrived at our ‘hotel’ at Debre Markos to hear that our tents were not required as we had rooms for the night (and the sign said ‘deluxe rooms’)!...not excited for too long, it’s two people to a bed or sleep on the truck....I was thinking the truck seemed like a better option, expecting single beds (Spencer and I have rouble sharing a queen sometimes!) The rooms are basic, basic, and dirty..I took the risk of infesting my sleeping bag with bed bugs instead of lying on the sheets; the power point was hanging from the wall. The shared toilets are horrendous, I never conclusively found out who the ‘poo smearer’ was but I have tracked them down to residing in Ethiopia! There is like 200 poo smears on the wall of each toilet! The rooms with ensuites had a hole in the floor for the toilet, which doubled as a shower drain....so to flush the toilet you have to turn on the shower....non slip footwear essential in the shower! We didn’t have an ensuite, which I was thankful for as others said that the rooms just smelt of s^&t, however at midnight when I had to get dressed and take on the poo smearers artwork again, I was thinking the smell may have not been that bad. Figuring that anyone smearing poo on the wall had to open the door to exit the toilet I took my chances and left the door of the unisex toilets open, figuring that a little embarrassment was better than touching a poo coated door handle! The following morning I was packing up my sleeping bag and has put my head torch on instead of turning on the light (and no, it wasn’t a fear of touching the power point which was hanging out of the wall) it was just that there were so few signs of ‘luxury’ in our ‘deluxe’ room that I though I was in the tent (and would have preferred to have been in the tent!)
We headed into town for a look and found a pub with a TV (big thing here) and showing the soccer, so we piled in, realizing quickly that I was the only female in the place...apparently only ‘loose females’ would be seen in a bar in Ethiopia, from the looks on a few of the blokes faces, I figured that this was true! I broke my beer ban, no true Australian can turn down a beer in a pub with hay on the floor when it is 3.50birr (20 cents Aussie!) I figured that on a day when I ate raw cow I deserved a couple of beers! The soft drink was 8 birr, so over twice the price of beer, love this country! (after a day of eating two lunches with beer and soft drink, about 10 beers between us and snacks and 4 rolls of toilet paper, Spencer added up that we had spent $9 AUD!) Really love this country! After a stint on ‘truck security’, sitting on the truck as it could not be driven over the dodgy bridge and into the yard, We headed inside for a meal, then off to bed. Not surprisingly the beds had either bed bugs or fleas, which were driving me mad by 11, it was a long night! The bed had once had a foam mattress, however it was so old that the middle of the bed just rested straight onto the bed base, the accommodation charge was 20 birr, so about $1.20 Aussie dollars, so we just figured that the bed bugs were complementary!
I had another Laruim fuelled dream that night, not any more weird than usual, but the larium makes the dreams feel like reality. Usually, when I dream I am aware that I am dreaming, but with the larium dreams, I am usually surprised to wake up alive! In this dream I was in Ethiopia (true) and I went to a pub (also true) and I drank a beer (true too), but in my dream women are not supposed to drink beer and I was arrested and charged and was going to be beheaded! The Australian embassy laughed at me and said they couldn’t help, I was begging saying “all I did was drink a beer, I don’t think death is a fair punishment!”, then I started banging my head on the wall and screaming it seemed so real that I coule even feel my head banging into the wall. Then they were making me kneel down so that they could behead me with an axe type thing on a 8ft pole and I (thankfully) woke up...to my reality of bedbugs and fleas biting! Love Africa! Every moment is an adventure! But on the serious side of life, I am getting off the Larium (used as a malaria medication) after next week, there is little to no malaria from here on in and I will get my fix of adventure from the movies not my own subconscious.
The following morning there was a crime committed on the truck, a very, very serious crime. My roll of toilet paper was stolen....not sure if the person responsible was the same individual responsible for the poo smears in the toilets...hmmm...possible...but honestly what type of low life steals a brand new roll of toilet paper? You would have to be an assole (pardon the pun!)...... But I am onto the ‘poo cloos’ again, there were only three people in and out of the truck in the time the poo tickets were nicked...one I discounted immediately, the other two will have their bog roll examined without their knowledge...it was a special roll, not found in many places, so very traceable! And after that comes revenge!
I spent that driving day sitting in the sleeper section of the cab, the drive is a lot smoother and quieter (you cannot hear the kids yelling ‘you, you, you, gie me money’) but you can see the traffic and that is a problem, I much prefer not to see trucks coming straight at me on my side of the road, we arrived in Bahir Dar on Lake Tana, we are back to camping, but as camping is no big pastime in Ethiopia there are no real campsites set up, we are camped in the grounds of a hotel, our bathroom is simply a room set aside that we have the key for that we use the bathroom. I have not had a proper shower since Nairobi, so am looking forward to a decent scrub! Tomorrow we head up to Lalibela, a seven or eight hour drive for 300km, the truck and many peole on it stay here, this is an additional trip off the truck, then we return and meet the truck again here.
And finally, sorry about the addition of advertisements to this blog site, hopefully it does not affect your viewing (I cannot actually view the blog from here as blog sites are blocked in Ethiopia) Anyways, the advertising may earn me a small pittance for my effort, so tell your friends and hit on the site often. With robberies, hospital visits and a distinct lack of a regular wage (or tenants in our house) we need all the money we can get, even if that comes from ‘selling out’ for the advertising dollar!

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Gorilla encounters and Kenyan Ambulances

Gorilla Tracks
After a terrible night of very little sleep at ‘Red Chilli Campground’ in Kampala, the capital of Uganda highlighted by only my vegetable lasagne which was a hit again, (one bloke ate it and didn’t realise it was vegetarian!) we packed up camp and left at 6am making as much noise as possible in an attempt to wake the bastards off the Oasis overland truck who had kept us awake all night with singing and talking rubbish at the top of their lungs!
A couple of hours later we arrived at the equator (this time crossing back into the southern hemisphere) we were amazed that water does actually flow clockwise or anti-clockwise depending on if you are in the northern or southern hemisphere. We were also very amazed to see that the water will do this only meters to the north or south of the equator. On the equator, the water will just suck down the plughole without swirling either way.The following day we left lake Bunyoni at 1pm for the 3 ½ hour trip to the Nkuringo Gorilla Campsite, this trip was made in a clapped out old Toyota Hiace van with 11 people, tents, mattresses’ and gear for three days packed inside! Initially we were pleased with the quality of the roads, however they deteriorated very soon after someone voiced this!
By time we reached the campsite the road was little more than a goat track with a couple of people in the van feeling a little apprehensive about the lack of guard rails and the huge drop offs the rocky washed-away roads. We came quite close to the border of the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) and some peoples phone started reading service from the DRC phone towers, there were a couple of people who thought that we must have inadvertently crossed into the DRC because our phones were on the DRC towers! That night we had dinner and roasted marshmallows on the fire while talking to people who had tracked the gorillas that day
We were woken up in the middle of the night by a huge roll of thunder, got up to put the rain sheet on the tent thinking that a huge storm was immanent, however it passed around and under us (we were camped at about 1900m) Woke up the next morning very excited, but nervous about NOT seeing any gorillas! After breakfast we were off to the National Park office for our gorilla briefing where our head guide told us that when we see men with guns they are ‘our people’, I was very glad he had told us this as I would have had heart failure when half an hour of driving within spitting distance of the DRC border we pull up on the road and there is two men in dark green uniforms with AK-47 machine guns and gumboots standing there! These were our guards for the tracking…not to protect us from the gorillas, but from poachers who are well armed and pretty dangerous ord  from anyone who had wandered across the border from Congo…we found out later that night that a group of 8 acacia trackers had been kidnapped and killed in the same area in 1999 (Although I knew a few stories of happenings around the area I was glad I didn’t know that earlier!). Other people on our tour tracked the Nshongi family of gorillas and only had one armed guard. We walked through villages and past houses waving at all the kids shouting ‘ello’ and ‘mzungu’ to us, still amazes me at just how excited the kids get to see tourists!
Half an hour later the head guide listens to a message on his radio and tells us ‘good news, the early trackers have found the gorillas’. Trackers go out at 7am and trek straight to where they viewed the gorillas the day before, then follow their tracks to their nests from that night and hope to find them munching on foliage for breakfast not too far away! Our gorillas were still very close to their nests, meaning that we only had an hours trek down into the valley and two hours back, which was a little disappointing as we wanted to see a little more of the Bwindi Impenetrable forest. We sighted 13 of the 17 gorillas in the Nkuringu Gorilla Family, considering there are only 700 mountain gorillas left in the world we were very pleased to see so many. Only certain groups of gorillas have been habituated to be visited by people and only 8 people can visit each family for an hour a day, for the privelidge they currently pay $500US however there is talk that it will increase to $1000US.
The guidelines say that people have to stay 7 meters from the gorillas, however someone forgot to tell the gorillas this! they came closer and closer to us. Because the family which we visited has been habituated for 12 years they were very comfortable with us. At the start of our hour with the gorillas a huge black back called ‘Kirungi’ (black back is a gorilla that is ready to turn silverback ie; become sexually mature) decided that after posing for photos for five minutes that it wanted a snack, so just reached up grabbed the trunk of a tree close by, pulled the tree over and started breakfasting! Not long after this he decided that he wanted to be the other side of us, walking between myself and another bloke who were moving as fast as we could over steep and loose vegetation without disturbing the other gorillas, in the end he passed about 50cm from where I was clinging to the hillside and was every bit as tall as me, only about 8 times the diameter! I was fair crapping myself!
So many of the gorillas were actually too close to photograph by the end of hour with them, my minimum focusing distance is 1.8m and there was a lot of time I couldn’t focus they were so close. At one stage I was taking photos of a gorilla that was up the hill a little bit when I felt something tap on my hand, it was the guide pointing out the juvenile gorilla which had moved right in front of me! I ended up taking less photos than anyone else, but I guess it’s about quality not quantity! I was actually that awed by the mountain gorillas that I spent a lot of time just watching instead of taking photos…with my lens I was just too close to actually see a whole gorilla through the viewfinder!
Near the end of our hour the guide asked who wanted to see the silverback called ‘Safari’ to walk up the hill a couple of meters as he had been sitting mostly out of sight behind vegetation, almost on que he wandered down the hill tord us, stopping about 2-3m in front of us and settled down for some photos. I think that quite a few people stopped breathing at this stage, I certainly did! Our guide almost had to drag us away at the end of the hour, we just wanted to stay there forever! He was saying that we had ‘perfect viewing’ as the gorillas are often not that active, we had witnessed the juveniles playfighting and tumbling and evenually big momma gorilla swatting a couple of the younger ones over the head to sort it out! We started back up the hill, through the terraced villages stopping to have lunch and reached our clapped out old minivan after two hours, two hours spent talking non-stop about gorillas and photography….great topics!
Spencer and I return to camp to find our tent moved and decorated with lots of red balloons and flowers and containing a bottle of sparkling red wine, box of chocolates and card signed by everyone as it was our first wedding anniversary that day….and what a way to spend it!Back at camp we wait for the other group who had to leave earlier as they were tracking farther away, we had all compared photos, downed 500ml Nile special beers and talked non stop about just how amazing the gorillas are, when the other group came back in several hours after us and looking dusty and tired (we had all had hot showers by this time too!) They had all enjoyed their day, but had not been as lucky to get so close, as the Nshongi family has not had contact with humans for as long as the gorillas that we tracked.
After dinner we roasted some more marshmallows by the fire with the gorilla stories still running thick and fast!
The following day we took advantage of lying on our mattresses on the green grass watching the clouds pass over, Spencer and I took a stroll around the village, however I was pretty nervous of walking around by ourselves close to the border of one of the most unstable countries in the world at the moment. That night we sat in our thatched dining room and watched a great electrical storm brew and pass us over, dumping a lot of rain on the campsite.
The following morning we were back in the mini van, this time with 8 passengers, the driver, 16 sleeping mats, 8 tents, 8 rain covers and all of our gear, not the most comfortable trip in the world! We arrived back at Lake Bunyoni, had lunch then prepared for more rain…decided that the best course of action was to get to the bar, download our photos, watch the commonwealth games, talk about gorillas and drink some beer.
That night Spencer had to take a shovel to the toilet with him to ward off the camp dogs! They were crazy mutts! As he got out of the tent they rushed at him, he had to kick one to keep it from biting him, I looked out of the tent to see three eyeing him off, they had dragged our bin bag away and spread in everywhere and then tipped another bin over. Now I understood why the security guard had told me the night before that the dog as a ‘wolf’ as I was patting it thinking it was a nice dog, although close to a dingo!
We are still waiting to receive the magical email informing us that we have tenants in our house…loosing $600 a week when you are not working and haven’t worked for over five months is not a great feeling!
Our ‘jigger’ (still haven’t been able to find someone who knows how it’s actually spelt!) worm holes in our feet have cleared up, after seeing them everyone else is wearing shoes more often! I am keeping a close eye on my skin for any more parasites…
To truly experience Africa they say you need to be robbed….
I think to truly experience Africa you need to-
1.     Be robbed
2.    Get food poisoning
3.    Have a parasite living somewhere within your body
4.    Take local transport (once)
5.    Listen to the wheels of your Kenyan ambulance squeal as you roar through the streets of Nairobi hospital bound
Kenyan Medical Adventures
(this one is rated P for Poo)
So we re-enter Kenya at a quick border crossing (1 hour) and head for Eldoret (previously known as Eldorado he he he) and the much awaited open fire in the bar. Eldoret is about 2200m above sea level, so things were cooling down pretty quickly as we pitched our tents and headed for the bar. We settle in under a thatched roof outside to drink some beer and are quickly surprised by a strange substance falling from the sky…..hail…in Kenya! We wait for a lull in the hail and drag ourselves and beers back up to the bar hoping that the fire is lit…some people adopt the ‘jandals off’ (the Kiwis) technique of moving through the path that is flowing like a river, others adopt ‘thongs on’ (the Aussies) or ‘flip-flops’ (Northern hemisphere) on, dependant upon nationality….then there are the Territorians, who like to throw around the term of ‘pluggers’. I went for ‘pluggers off’ and just about froze my tootsies off!
A few beers later and dinner is ready, we drag ourselves away from the bar and the open fire that has been stoked up nicely by this stage to eat our stuffed pancakes. We find out that we are camped beside the very same African Trails truck that we will be on from Nairobi to Istanbul (called Ruby), some of the people on the truck will be our travelling companions for the next three months. When they roll into the bar, it doesn’t take me long to work out that the African Trails trucks attract a very different clientele than the Acacia trucks. The power goes out and five of the crew start walking to the toilets off the light of one mans head torch, I hear him say “look, a couple of other people are going to have to get head torches of you are going to have to chip in for money for batteries, this is going to cost me a fortune!” ha ha ha. They had a dress up night as it was someone’s birthday, one of the girls who named herself only as ‘Kimberly Clark’ was obviously out for the cheapest dress up outfit available and stole every roll of toilet paper in the campground (except the bar) to dress herself in. I for one thought this was a great joke, until about 1am the next morning when I would have sold my sole for a roll! So after a couple of beers, feeling sober and 100% well, I prepare myself for bed with a 500ml bottle of the best ginger beer ever and head off to tent 649. I wake up in the middle of the night realizing that something was very, very wrong with me, I make my way as quickly as one can, out of tent 649 when you have four zippers to open in the rain and get my ‘pluggers’ on for a quick jog to the camp toilets…once there I realize exactly where ‘Kimberly Clark’ got her party dress from! Not in a position to be choosy, I head for the men’s bathrooms, to find that every roll of toilet paper has been stolen from there too! I make my way down a tunnel (yeah, bars in Eldoret come complete with 20m tunnel entrances!) and find that there is some toilet paper left, sort myself out, steal half of the remaining toilet paper and make my way to the bar and nicely ask the man to ‘sort the shitters out’. So I arrive back at the tent and tell Spencer the grizzly details when I realize that I am indeed sick and have to head back to the toilet again, with both ends well out of control. This continues all night, and I am freezing with the chills. Unfortunately for our travelling companions all of our tents were well packed that night, so when I don’t make it to the toilet and start vomiting near the tent at about 3am, I wake most of them up. By the morning I feel absolutely ordinary and not looking forward to an 8 hour truck trip into Nairobi, after three trips to the toilets in the hour before departure, a hug and cuddle from Maritjie, who arrived at the toilets with a fresh roll on my second trip and strict instructions to Patrick our driver that I would not care where he pulled the truck up, just so long as it was immediately after he saw arms waving out of the window we were off. I lasted in the seat about ½ an hour before crawling onto a mat on the floor at the back of the truck in my sleeping bag and enduring the several hundred speed bumps that Kenyan roads have put in to make sick people suffer! I do honestly believe that the person who decides to put five speed bumps in 5 meters must be a relative of any stupid bitch who would steal all the toilet paper in an African campground!
Somewhere along the way other sleeping mats fall on me, I am oblivious to this, only to the extra layer of comfort once we stop and I add these to my bedding! Eight hours, six million speed bumps, about 200ml of coke and two glucogel sachets later we arrive in Nairobi, I am certain that I need to vomit and get off the truck immediately with quick instructions on the location of the toilets and head in that direction. I manage to get around the first corner before realizing that I am going to faint, get off the concrete path and onto the grass, but continue my way towards the toilet (I still don’t understand how after 30 years of fainting, why I haven’t learnt to just sit down!) only to see the world spin and have a vague recollection of my shoulder smashing onto the hardest grass in the world. I re-enter the world looking at the washing line and about five Kenyan workers hanging over me asking if I’m OK… I manage to croak out a ‘please get my husband off the Acacia truck’ out and before I know it I am in the back of a Kenyan ambulance with the sirens blaring, swerving at top speed towards Nairobi hospital. I got so scared by this stage, I felt so sick and my back and legs were aching and my hands were tingling and I was certain that I had crapped myself as I fell, that I start crying. The driver wouldn’t let Spencer of Maritjie sit in the front, he said they would be driving fast and they may get scared. Apparently the trip to the hospital took 20 minutes, but without the siren would have taken 2 hours, traffic in Nairobi is hell! The ambulance was more of a meat wagon, very little equipment in there; they just take the vitals and get you to a hospital as quick as they can. I remember that the sheet on the stretcher was less clean than the one in our tent! The stretcher didn’t lock into place properly so it was moving from side to side when the ambulance attendant wasn’t holding it, they put a seatbelt around my knees, not sure what that was going to do had the anchors needed engaging quickly. Rounding the corner to the hospital I hear the wheels squealing and start thinking “shit am I dying? Why are they driving so fast?” We arrive at the hospital, much to my amazement; I thought the ambulance was going to kill me quicker than any illness. I get rolled into a room and Spencer gets dragged off to pay in advance, they wouldn’t do anything except ask my name, take my temperature and attempt to undress me until they saw the colour of our Kenya shillings! I had two men trying to get my red zebra t-shirt off me and I am asking for Spencer to help and them to go away and then start stressing about them taking my shorts off me as I had a heap of US dollars and our last remaining cash cards in the pocket, so I manage to remain in my thermals and shorts with my thongs and t-shirt confiscated! My clothing still bore the remains of a passionfruit malfunction from the day before and shit and spew from the previos night, had it not been my favourite item they would have been welcome to it! Spencer was using my credit card to pay, which he then had to bring in for me to sign (his got stolen), I told him to shield me from seeing the price, lest I have a heart attack at that! After payment was made they start punching holes in me to draw blood and pump three bottles of fluid into my arm, by this stage I am certain that I am dying, Spencer is still sorting the insurance and I am flaking it with the thought of needles (yup, still a sook). At some stage Spencer returns and assures me that all the needles are new and were in their wrappers. After the saline starts running into my veins I start to feel marginally better, Spencer gets out the camera and takes a couple of photos, I look like crap.
After a couple of litres of fluid, they walk me to the toilet, no dignity left by this stage, for a urine and stool sample. Urine no problems, they have been pumping fluid into my arm for over an hour, the stool is an issue, no food, lots of immodium and a whole night doing water poos (yup, no colour at all, just water….worst ever) meant that there was no stool to be had. So I get to then wander back, in my wonderful Nairobi Hospital gown gaping to show my thermal underwear (I had had the chills the night before and had not changed that morning) and shorts and bare feet back (still holding drip, gown and my urine sample…and man…they use the smallest bottles over here for such things!) back to another bed for yet another bottle of liquid. It was smaller than the other bottles, Spencer looked at the bottle and at the receipt and told me that the bottle was worth 500 shillings, then told me that we had paid for the stool sample so I would be ‘shitting in the bottle!’
With the fluids still pumping in, I start to feel better, and can even feel by skin plumping up again, the doctor arrives to tell me that I don’t have malaria (which everyone was certain that I did) and my blood was fine and that the results of the other tests would be ready the following day, upon which I could bring in a poo for them to test! Spencer goes off to the dispensary and comes back with drugs and less shillings than he left with and then we are right to leave. Maritjie is still certain that it is malaria, and knows three people that have been misdiagnosed, so we arrive back at the campsite ready to perform a self malaria test from the first aid kit on the truck. So at about 10pm the three of us are in the truck trying to puncture my finger to get a drop of blood big enough for the test, only problem is that I am so bloody (pardon the pun) traumatized by the events of the day, and probably still dehydrated that I don’t seem to be able to bleed. Spencer did the first hole, with a safety pin, I think he hit bone, after that I had to lie down or faint. Maritjie made the next hole, after massaging my finger, and kept exclaiming ‘f&*k’, ‘bleed Allison’ in a strong Afrikaans accent, she does not usually swear, I remember finding this funny at the time. Eventually I was laid on the table, with my feet on the headrests of the seat in front, with my hand lowered into warm water before my arm lowered and the third puncture was made and enough blood was gained for the test to come back negative. There was talk of more malaria tests the next morning…..no thanks, I feel enough like a pin cushion! By this stage I was feeling absolutely crap and just couldn’t stay upright for longer than a minute without feeling the world spin so I was put to bed. Maritjie gave us her room in the campground as she was worried about me sleeping in a tent so far away from the toilet; I declined so many times and then almost died of guilt the next morning when I found out that she had slept on the couch that night!
The next morning I was feeling much better, still far from 100% but have colour back in my cheeks (according to all our travelling companions, to whom I had to tell and re-tell the hospital and ambulance story), and managed to eat a bit of breakfast. I am just hoping that whatever made me so violently ill, managed to pass out in the initial hours and that now I am re-hydrated I will be fine…also very thankful that I was close to the best hospital in East Africa (or any hospital for that matter), as I can only imagine what some of the rural hospitals in Uganda would have been like…
Spencer tells me that we are on day 86 with a little under a hundred days to go….I figure we have had our fair share of luck!
And just for those of us who are superstitious; I was wearing the same t-shirt, bra, undies and shorts as I was the day we were robbed, only difference is that I was wearing my $1 zambian ‘pluggers’ instead of my red crocs….hmmm…is my lucky red t-shirt really so lucky? Or on a pure statistical point of view, is it just because I wear it so often that bad things are starting to happen when I wear it?....