Tuesday August 31, 2010 – Rwanda to Uganda again
We’re up and organized early. Julius’ housekeeper arrives shortly after 8 and we hand over the keys and load our stuff back into the car for a long driving day back into Uganda to Lake Mburu. We’re becoming pros at finding our way around Kigali, thanks in no end to the gps which keeps us on the straight and narrow. We wind our way out pretty directly and get on the road to the border, a short one hour drive. The road is up and down and back and forth, and Sarah keeps talking about motion sickness but never changes colour so we make it without any barfing. We follow a valley all the way, initially it is marsh and rice paddies, then there are sugar cane fields, then extensive tea plantation, and then grasslands for cattle, many of which are Holsteins or Holstein crosses. And always people on the sides of the road – walking, bicycling, and always carrying something. It’s amazing what people can put on their heads and then carry. Elizabeth actually spots a woman who drops her basket, perhaps blown off by the gusting wind. A pretty unusual occurrence.
The border goes well. There are no buses of people, and although the road is lined with lorries, they don’t seem to have any impact on my visit to customs. The Rwandan exit is straightforward, with a very nice lady giving me a wad of toilet paper to deal with Sarah’s perpetually running nose. There is quite a line up of important documents posted up on the inside of the immigration window – identity papers left behind. We exit Rwanda, cross to the other side of the road to start driving on the left again, and then I visit the customs entry. The man asks if I have papers, I tell him I have many papers but he needs to show me the one he wants. That is apparently quite funny, and her picks what he needs out of the pile and we’re off. Then the immigration, where we pay our 50$ each and hand in our cards and passports. There is a brief moment of panic when the man at the counter tells Elizabeth she has only given him 1 passport, she tells him she gave him two, and he starts looking rather frantically under his newspaper and between the pieces of paper on the desk. The woman next to him points out that the passport is in the passport reading machine, and everyone relaxes and laughs.
And so we are in Uganda, an hour out of Kabale where we make a stop for lunch and groceries. We decide to try another restaurant listed in the guide book, which doesn’t have quite the ambience of the café we ate in previously , but the potato chapattis are fine, and we fill ourselves up on carbs and means for the trip to come. A visit to the Hot Loaf bakery, where we buy a double loaf of “butter bread”, some cookies euphemistically named “Vienna pastries” and a couple of the double decker jam cookies I’ve bought before. Solid and filling and quite edible. A trip to an Indian grocery for some fresh stuff to serve as snacks, and then on our way. I rather like Kabale. The dusty roads are filled with bicycles – I feel like I am in the wild west with herd of bicycles instead of cattle moving down the roads. The main road is lined by colourful shops, and many of the buildings are from the 1950’s and have the names of Indian proprietors over their lintels.
And east we head, about three hours of driving to go. But the road for the next few hours is tar so it passes quickly. We gradually move into more agricultural land, acres and acres of plantain and pineapples for a while until we move back into dry cattle territory. The hills gradually smooth out, and all of a sudden the good road ends just around Mbarara, where they are working on it. So we have a few km of dust and dirt and bypasses where the construction is going on, and then we are onto a brand brand new incredibly smooth road that just calls to me to go more than 60 km per hour. We sneak it up to 70 and sometimes a bit more, but there are traffic police in white uniforms, and regular police in blue camouflage, and other police or army scattered along so staying within the speed limit is probably a good idea.
Just before Katuma we leave the main road and re-enter murram road territory – passing through a number of small villages where most of the local populace is gathered around a central building – turns out it is local elections today. And eventually we come to the park gates and Lake Mburu National Park. Just beyond the gate we see a family of vervet monkeys, which sends Sarah scuttling back into the car. Formalities all go well – the girls’ student cards and my letter from UWA giving us reduced entry rate, and all of a sudden we are game viewing. Zebra, impala, birds, warthogs – grazing along the road or standing in the middle of the road. And the game seems really used to people as they just saunter off when we get close, unless I back up for a different view which activates the “backup beeper” and that seems to get them excited. Rwonyo camp is the headquarters and the site of a few very sad looking bandas. We head down to the lake to check out the campground, which is a large expanse of grass sloping down to the lake, and there is a restaurant with a large open thatched dining area. Hippos, warthogs, and birds abound. We decide that the pretty site does not make up for the lack of amenities, and head back up to the office to check into the platform tents that we have booked.
The office is closed but the appropriate person is found and we drive a km or so into the bush, past the parks employee homes, to a rather dilapidated group of large canvas tents raised up on wooden platforms. Each has two single beds with mosquito nets (actually Elizabeth gets the couple’s tent – two single beds pushed together with one mosquito net) and there are bathroom with running water and sit-on-toilets – much better than the very smelly pit latrines at the campsite, and showers. Patrick starts the fire for hot water so we can shower after dinner, and it all seems good. We unpack a bit, do the daily reorganization, and then just as the sun is setting head to the restaurant for beers and dinner. Beers are good, the ambience is good, but dinner, which we ordered up from a limited menu an hour and a half ago for 7:30, still doesn’t come til 8 and the chips aren’t really cooked and everything tastes a bit odd. Not exactly gourmet dining. It becomes full dark while we are eating, the stars come in a clear sky, and as we drive back to the tents, a few km away, we manage to see a white-tailed mongoose and several groups of hippo walking along the road. The showers are a bit of a disappointment – the water system is a bit odd with me turning on a tap in one shower and soaking Elizabeth who was in the next shower/toilet room, and the water coming out the hand tap seems to be about the colour of the average puddle on the dirt roads after a rain. So we pass on the showers and retire to our tents, thoughtfully provided with a burning kerosene lantern so we can see our way in the dark. Under our mosquito nets, and asleep in a flash.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Monday August 30, 2010 – Driving to Kigali, driving in circles in Kigali, and the Genocide Memorial
Monday August 30, 2010 – Driving to Kigali, driving in circles in Kigali, and the Genocide Memorial
Time to leave MGVP, with regrets all round. As Elizabeth put it, it’s started to feel like home here – comfort, friends, and dogs. Mid-morning we pack up, unsuccessfully try and find all our bits of laundry in stages of being cleaned, dried and pressed, and head through Musenzi on the roughly two hour drive to Kigali. It’s windy and up and down and scenic – a typical Rwandan road as far as I can tell. The rain last night cleared the air somewhat and we get better vistas across the fields and hills than we’ve had so far. They are working on the roads, it seems a constant process, and there are great stretches and really really slow stretched. There is often a person at the beginning of a narrow or one way section with green and red flags, but I have to admit half the time I can’t figure out which one is being waved at me. Sometimes the person just seems to be waving at flies with them, which confuses me no end. Elizabeth seems to figure it out better, in fact she has been giving me advice on a lot of things related to driving and navigation – I think I’m at the stage where as a parent I’m becoming stupid and incapable. I gather I will get smarter again in a few years. It’s hard to describe driving in Africa, especially Rwanda and I know I’ve tried to do it before – it’s simply the number of people and all sorts of wheeled contraptions that one shares the road with, combined with the state of the roads that makes it quite unique. Combined with the dust and the smells and the sounds. We are driving at school turnover time – there aren’t enough schools for everyone to go at one so there are morning and afternoon sessions – and in mid-day both groups are out on the road in their uniforms – tons and tons of kids walking and running and playing with balls made of banana leaves and twirling tires and hoops with sticks. Big kids walking with little kids and little kids walking with little kids and little tiny kids walking on their own. We would have fits in North America about kids out on their own when they can hardly walk, but here it seems pretty normal. At one point we hit a stretch of really nice tar that isn’t too windy and I crank it up to 75 km per hour – living big – and then promptly get flagged down by traffic police who tell me to slow down because of the farms (and people presumably). Got away with that one, and its back to max speed of 6o again. Sarah manages to make it all the way to Kigali without getting sick, which is amazing, and just about lunchtime we wind down the last big hill and enter the noise and bustle and traffic of Kigali.
We are staying at the office/apartment that belongs to the PREDICT group, and have to meet Julius to figure out where it is and get the key. That involves a lot of texts, but eventually he tells us to meet him at the Nakumat - a South African supermarket mall, and with some assistance from locals we manage to find it, find parking, and find an open café on the second floor to settle in and eat lunch while we wait for Julius. Prices here are upscale – and the place is full of expats with various accents and affluent well dressed Rwandans. We are pretty sloppy and scruffy in comparison I have to say! Eventually we meet up with Julius and Eddy, the MGVP vet from Congo who is here to get visas for a trip to the US – and we follow them out of town towards the airport where the flat is located in an odd building which seems to hold a combination of offices and living quarters. The PREDICT flat is no different – obviously originally an apartment, it has a small office tucked in one corner. The main door to the hall is large and glass, with a metal grill welded across it. There is a large living room with a lounge set, an empty dining room, a small kitchen, a huge bedroom with ensuite with a fluorescent pink flower comforter, and a second bedroom and bathroom. Plus about 4 small balconies. We are rattling around in it, and it seems very empty compared to MGVP central and all the comforts of home.
Once located we head off to the genocide memorial for Elizabeth, I have been there previously. It is a well done museum that tells the story of pro-colonial and colonial life in Rwanda and how the seeds of the Hutu Tutsi conflict (s) were sown, and then goes through the actual time line of the genocide. There is also an exhibit on other genocides throughout the world – the holocaust of course but a number of other really significant and horrible happenings, some of which never reached public awareness in a big way. Graphic enough but not in your face, unlike a memorial further north where they have placed preserved bodies as they were found when a church of people were massacred. That is apparently very startling. Here there is a memorial garden, and a series of large concrete slabs under which the remains, intact bodies or pieces of people, of 30,000 people were placed. They continue to add more as new graves or mass graves are still found. Impossible to understand, and even more impossible to believe that most of the people one sees on the street lived through it. I have never had a Hutu talk to me, perhaps harder to have been on that side, but the few Tutsi stories I have heard are just unbelievable nightmares.
Next stop is a major craft market. We’re actually pretty much trinketted out, but decide we need another stop before heading back for the night. Kigali is a nightmare to drive in because it is all hills and valleys, roads travel along them, and one finds oneself going in the opposite direction to where you think you should be, doing a u-bend, and then arriving on the opposite side of a valley from where you started after a half hour. The gps was invaluable – trying to follow our not very detailed maps was horrendous. However, we did get into rather a bind when a road we needed was closed, and Elizabeth programmed the gpd to drive us in circles – which we did for a while – saying “weren’t we here before” until she realized what she had done and we all got a good laugh about it. Eventually we did find the craft market – where we felt a bit like the fresh meat thrown into a tank of piranhas, but we looked at a fee things, I actually bought a Rwandan “poo-painting “ (wooden African designs on wood made with cattle dung for texture and then painted ) and Sarah got promises of having her hair and nails done if we came back the next day. We escaped otherwise unscathed, made our way back to the apartment, and settled in to very dull macaroni and sauce for dinner. At least Sarah and I did. Elizabeth has been caught by some kind of a tummy bug – possibly the same one I had for a few days. I’m calling it the “I shouldn’t have eaten three helpings of Thanksgiving dinner and then dessert” bug because that’s what your stomach feels like – stretched to bursting even with no food in it. Poor girl.
Time to leave MGVP, with regrets all round. As Elizabeth put it, it’s started to feel like home here – comfort, friends, and dogs. Mid-morning we pack up, unsuccessfully try and find all our bits of laundry in stages of being cleaned, dried and pressed, and head through Musenzi on the roughly two hour drive to Kigali. It’s windy and up and down and scenic – a typical Rwandan road as far as I can tell. The rain last night cleared the air somewhat and we get better vistas across the fields and hills than we’ve had so far. They are working on the roads, it seems a constant process, and there are great stretches and really really slow stretched. There is often a person at the beginning of a narrow or one way section with green and red flags, but I have to admit half the time I can’t figure out which one is being waved at me. Sometimes the person just seems to be waving at flies with them, which confuses me no end. Elizabeth seems to figure it out better, in fact she has been giving me advice on a lot of things related to driving and navigation – I think I’m at the stage where as a parent I’m becoming stupid and incapable. I gather I will get smarter again in a few years. It’s hard to describe driving in Africa, especially Rwanda and I know I’ve tried to do it before – it’s simply the number of people and all sorts of wheeled contraptions that one shares the road with, combined with the state of the roads that makes it quite unique. Combined with the dust and the smells and the sounds. We are driving at school turnover time – there aren’t enough schools for everyone to go at one so there are morning and afternoon sessions – and in mid-day both groups are out on the road in their uniforms – tons and tons of kids walking and running and playing with balls made of banana leaves and twirling tires and hoops with sticks. Big kids walking with little kids and little kids walking with little kids and little tiny kids walking on their own. We would have fits in North America about kids out on their own when they can hardly walk, but here it seems pretty normal. At one point we hit a stretch of really nice tar that isn’t too windy and I crank it up to 75 km per hour – living big – and then promptly get flagged down by traffic police who tell me to slow down because of the farms (and people presumably). Got away with that one, and its back to max speed of 6o again. Sarah manages to make it all the way to Kigali without getting sick, which is amazing, and just about lunchtime we wind down the last big hill and enter the noise and bustle and traffic of Kigali.
We are staying at the office/apartment that belongs to the PREDICT group, and have to meet Julius to figure out where it is and get the key. That involves a lot of texts, but eventually he tells us to meet him at the Nakumat - a South African supermarket mall, and with some assistance from locals we manage to find it, find parking, and find an open café on the second floor to settle in and eat lunch while we wait for Julius. Prices here are upscale – and the place is full of expats with various accents and affluent well dressed Rwandans. We are pretty sloppy and scruffy in comparison I have to say! Eventually we meet up with Julius and Eddy, the MGVP vet from Congo who is here to get visas for a trip to the US – and we follow them out of town towards the airport where the flat is located in an odd building which seems to hold a combination of offices and living quarters. The PREDICT flat is no different – obviously originally an apartment, it has a small office tucked in one corner. The main door to the hall is large and glass, with a metal grill welded across it. There is a large living room with a lounge set, an empty dining room, a small kitchen, a huge bedroom with ensuite with a fluorescent pink flower comforter, and a second bedroom and bathroom. Plus about 4 small balconies. We are rattling around in it, and it seems very empty compared to MGVP central and all the comforts of home.
Once located we head off to the genocide memorial for Elizabeth, I have been there previously. It is a well done museum that tells the story of pro-colonial and colonial life in Rwanda and how the seeds of the Hutu Tutsi conflict (s) were sown, and then goes through the actual time line of the genocide. There is also an exhibit on other genocides throughout the world – the holocaust of course but a number of other really significant and horrible happenings, some of which never reached public awareness in a big way. Graphic enough but not in your face, unlike a memorial further north where they have placed preserved bodies as they were found when a church of people were massacred. That is apparently very startling. Here there is a memorial garden, and a series of large concrete slabs under which the remains, intact bodies or pieces of people, of 30,000 people were placed. They continue to add more as new graves or mass graves are still found. Impossible to understand, and even more impossible to believe that most of the people one sees on the street lived through it. I have never had a Hutu talk to me, perhaps harder to have been on that side, but the few Tutsi stories I have heard are just unbelievable nightmares.
Next stop is a major craft market. We’re actually pretty much trinketted out, but decide we need another stop before heading back for the night. Kigali is a nightmare to drive in because it is all hills and valleys, roads travel along them, and one finds oneself going in the opposite direction to where you think you should be, doing a u-bend, and then arriving on the opposite side of a valley from where you started after a half hour. The gps was invaluable – trying to follow our not very detailed maps was horrendous. However, we did get into rather a bind when a road we needed was closed, and Elizabeth programmed the gpd to drive us in circles – which we did for a while – saying “weren’t we here before” until she realized what she had done and we all got a good laugh about it. Eventually we did find the craft market – where we felt a bit like the fresh meat thrown into a tank of piranhas, but we looked at a fee things, I actually bought a Rwandan “poo-painting “ (wooden African designs on wood made with cattle dung for texture and then painted ) and Sarah got promises of having her hair and nails done if we came back the next day. We escaped otherwise unscathed, made our way back to the apartment, and settled in to very dull macaroni and sauce for dinner. At least Sarah and I did. Elizabeth has been caught by some kind of a tummy bug – possibly the same one I had for a few days. I’m calling it the “I shouldn’t have eaten three helpings of Thanksgiving dinner and then dessert” bug because that’s what your stomach feels like – stretched to bursting even with no food in it. Poor girl.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Sunday August 29, 2010 – Around the house, drinks at the Gorilla Lodge, and the rains have come
Sunday August 29, 2010 – Around the house, drinks at the Gorilla Lodge, and the rains have come
A sleep in day and another catchup day. We do a load of laundry on our own, and I have to say it doesn’t come out nearly as clean as when Leon does it. I finish my histology reports, Sarah gets her nails done again, Elizabeth works her way through another session of Oz. Another two vet students arrive – from Ohio, to be here for two weeks helping with whatever projects they can be involved with. Jan is going to have her hands full keeping everyone in order as well as getting her own stuff done. Late afternoon Mike and James head off on another bike ride and the plan is for us to pick them up after about an hour – and we will all go to Gorilla Lodge for drinks and to admire the sunset. The only problem is the rains, overdue and needed, start and it absolutely pours down on them! So we pick up two very soggy bikes and riders and continue our way to the Lodge – which is a fair bit along a dirt track that skirts the top of a ridge between two deep valleys – with lakes off in two directions. The lodge is spectacular, and it is freezing and cold with the rain pouring down. So much for the views of sunset! But they set a fire for us and we enjoy the wonderful ambience of the place until after darkness falls. The drive back to Musanze in the rain and the dark is not a treat – the roads are filled with people and bicycles and bodas and no one keeps to the side or the correct side. I would definitely not want to do any more night driving here! For our final dinner we go back to the pizza place – where they have no power. But apparently pizzas can still be made, in the wood oven, so we have a candlelit dinner and then head home in the pouring rain, accompanied by thunder and lightening. MGVP has a generator so we can get ready for bed in the comfort of electricity.
A sleep in day and another catchup day. We do a load of laundry on our own, and I have to say it doesn’t come out nearly as clean as when Leon does it. I finish my histology reports, Sarah gets her nails done again, Elizabeth works her way through another session of Oz. Another two vet students arrive – from Ohio, to be here for two weeks helping with whatever projects they can be involved with. Jan is going to have her hands full keeping everyone in order as well as getting her own stuff done. Late afternoon Mike and James head off on another bike ride and the plan is for us to pick them up after about an hour – and we will all go to Gorilla Lodge for drinks and to admire the sunset. The only problem is the rains, overdue and needed, start and it absolutely pours down on them! So we pick up two very soggy bikes and riders and continue our way to the Lodge – which is a fair bit along a dirt track that skirts the top of a ridge between two deep valleys – with lakes off in two directions. The lodge is spectacular, and it is freezing and cold with the rain pouring down. So much for the views of sunset! But they set a fire for us and we enjoy the wonderful ambience of the place until after darkness falls. The drive back to Musanze in the rain and the dark is not a treat – the roads are filled with people and bicycles and bodas and no one keeps to the side or the correct side. I would definitely not want to do any more night driving here! For our final dinner we go back to the pizza place – where they have no power. But apparently pizzas can still be made, in the wood oven, so we have a candlelit dinner and then head home in the pouring rain, accompanied by thunder and lightening. MGVP has a generator so we can get ready for bed in the comfort of electricity.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Saturday August 28, 2010 – The Imbabazi orphanage and a trip to Gisenye
Saturday August 28, 2010 – The Imbabazi orphanage and a trip to Gisenye
Today we decided to take an excursion. After breakfast the girls and I loaded up in the car with James and Jen for a day trip to the Imbabazi orphanage and Gisenye, on Lake Kivu. Imbabazi is about 45 minutes away on the tar, and then 7 slow km on a bumpy murram road. The Rwandan countryside is very much like the in south west Uganda – hilly and solidly cultivated with houses and small village centres along the road. Also lots of police apparently so we stick to the 60 km per hour speed limit, a waste on the good tar road. We drive past our landmarks – a big rock cliff-face that looks like an elephants head, or the map of Africa, an abandoned refugee camp from the genocide – ragged disintegrating tents and broken down sheds, and turn onto the side road by going under one of the arbours that cross over many of the roads here. The land up to the orphanage looks really productive – people are setting out beds for potatoes and spraying onions and cutting eucalyptus – even the small kids are busy carrying water jugs and huge piles of eucalyptus leaves – they look like walking bushes. We are as always surrounded by cries of “muzungu” and “give me money”, as well as “ama chupa” meaning give me your empty water bottle. But more of the adults smile as we go by – it continues to be amazing what an entertainment we are.
Imbabazi is the continuation of an orphanage started by Ros Carr, a larger than life American woman who loved in Rwanda for over 50 years after marrying and British adventurer and moving out here. Once divorced she set up a pyrethrin farm, then when artificial pyrethrins came on the market she re-invented herself as a commercial flower farmer and the orphanage still continues in that business. Ros was a good friend of Dian Fossey and an absolute legend, she appears in many books about Rwanda during this century. She left Rwanda for a few short months in 2005 and when she came back her house had been stripped of everything of value. At age 80+ she started again, and started to collect the traumatized orphans that were wandering the roads aimlessly. Up to 400 children passed through her care, some reunited with families but others settling into the dormitories she built on her property. The Imbabazi trust continues to care for and educate Ros’ orphans as they grow older.
A young American woman named Devon has just started working here as an assistant manager, and gives us and another group of tourists that shows up the tour. The gardens are impressive, especially given the fact there has been no rain for 3 months. In season they would be spectacular. Green lawns, beds of flowers, rocky paths, and trees and plants brought to Ros from all over the world by her friends. The original house is still there (and was used in the movie Gorillas in the Mist), and Ros was buried on the property. We also tour the orphanage – part of which was once the pyrethrin drying sheds and has in fact been re-constructed to it’s original purpose. There are only about 25 orphans here now, most are boarding at secondary schools, but during term holidays there are almost 100 who are based here. They are trying to create income opportunities on the farm, such as the flower sales, and are looking at developing a dairy and bee keeping. Keeping 100 children fed and clothed and in school fees is not cheap!
Then back up the bumpy road, and another 20 minutes or so, mostly downhill to Gisenye. Sarah has been talking about getting car sick on the windy roads, but so far it seems to be simply discussions about the possibility rather than actual nausea. Jen and James are warned to look out for green-ness, but all continues to be well. We turn left and travel along the eastern shore of Lake Kivu where there is the very large Bralira brewery, source of Primus and Mutzig and maybe several other of the local beers. They draw methane from under the lake and use it to power at least part of the factory. According to the guidebook the grain waste is fed to the local fishes, not sure it they could be classified as a local “beer-fed” specialty. Large wooden canoes with what look like outriggers are pulled up on the shoreline, and they are hordes of splashing and screaming kids playing in the water. Our destination is a hotel/restaurant called Paradis, which turns out to be a lovely place with tables out near the lake on a small rocky peninsula. We have lots and lots of time to admire the view and to watch the myriad of herons, kingfishers, sunbirds, and mousebirds that abound. There is a small island offshore, and various boats that proceed out into the lake, either by oar or by power. Unfortunately it is so hazy there isn’t much of a view across the lake, apparently from Gisenyi the glow of the active Nyiramgamo volcano can be seen at night. Lunch is served on wooden trenchers and is excellent – James and I order local Tilapia, which is grilled over charcoal and served as the whole (gutted of course) fish.
Once fed we backtrack to the main road and turn into Gisenye to see the fruit bats that roost in trees along the beachfront. There is a long stretch of sandy beach and pubic waterfront – there is a wedding taking place with awnings and tents and lots of white linen, a party of some sort with a big sound system which has accumulated a large crowd of local people lining the fence and enjoying the music, and lots of kids swimming and enjoying the water. We admire the squeaking bats up in their trees, get swarmed by the craftsellers, who also kindly tell us that I have not left my car in a good place and there are thieves about who might take our baggages, and dip our toes into the water before loading up for the trip back to Musanze. We can now all say we have walked and sat by one of Africa’s limnic, or exploding lakes and survived. The drive back included a stop at a crafts shop, where James is the big buyer purchasing a stick similar to the ones children use to herd cattle (a cattle bopper we name it) and a carved wooden antelope, black in colour with white striping. We decide it must be meant to be an okapi, although some of the statues, especially the ones with young, look rather like hyenas in the company of small pigs. James gets a major ribbing for his purchase on our return.
Elizabeth’s sewing is ready – her purse and pants look great and the fabric choices work well. And they have even made a similar small purse for Sarah, which sends her into second heaven – she is so excited. Now she has a purse to put her purses into. Whatever! Back to MGVP where Jan and Mike have had a quiet and well appreciated day to themselves, and Jan has even baked a superb banana bread for us all.
Dinner tonight at the Muhubura – a local hangout where Dian Fossey apparently ate and stayed. They have a long verandah overlooking the road, and this is a common spot for the gorilla expats to get together, drink beer, and catch up with each other. We’re joined by max and Jacques, who run the Rwnadan cycling team and have the enormous Boerbull dog, and Katie and Glenn from Karisoke Research station. A long wait, a good meal, and lots of interesting conversation. I chat for a while with a Rwandan who is working as a judge in Musanze – he tells us there is discussion about a law that would specify a maximum of three children – he thinks it might eventually happen. Family is important here, but there is no doubt the country is severely stretched by its massive population. Sarah is having a whale of a time with these social evenings – drinking her pop and sneaking other people’s beer, and telling various people they are either funny or she loves them. Mike is in the funny category, and Jan is her best buddy, especially after giving her a gorilla badge (which she carefully tapes onto her shirt every morning) and nail polish this morning. I like the walk home in the dark after dinner – the outline of the monkey puzzle trees against the sky is truly unusual, and there were even stars out tonight. It looks like the rains are not quite ready to come.
Today we decided to take an excursion. After breakfast the girls and I loaded up in the car with James and Jen for a day trip to the Imbabazi orphanage and Gisenye, on Lake Kivu. Imbabazi is about 45 minutes away on the tar, and then 7 slow km on a bumpy murram road. The Rwandan countryside is very much like the in south west Uganda – hilly and solidly cultivated with houses and small village centres along the road. Also lots of police apparently so we stick to the 60 km per hour speed limit, a waste on the good tar road. We drive past our landmarks – a big rock cliff-face that looks like an elephants head, or the map of Africa, an abandoned refugee camp from the genocide – ragged disintegrating tents and broken down sheds, and turn onto the side road by going under one of the arbours that cross over many of the roads here. The land up to the orphanage looks really productive – people are setting out beds for potatoes and spraying onions and cutting eucalyptus – even the small kids are busy carrying water jugs and huge piles of eucalyptus leaves – they look like walking bushes. We are as always surrounded by cries of “muzungu” and “give me money”, as well as “ama chupa” meaning give me your empty water bottle. But more of the adults smile as we go by – it continues to be amazing what an entertainment we are.
Imbabazi is the continuation of an orphanage started by Ros Carr, a larger than life American woman who loved in Rwanda for over 50 years after marrying and British adventurer and moving out here. Once divorced she set up a pyrethrin farm, then when artificial pyrethrins came on the market she re-invented herself as a commercial flower farmer and the orphanage still continues in that business. Ros was a good friend of Dian Fossey and an absolute legend, she appears in many books about Rwanda during this century. She left Rwanda for a few short months in 2005 and when she came back her house had been stripped of everything of value. At age 80+ she started again, and started to collect the traumatized orphans that were wandering the roads aimlessly. Up to 400 children passed through her care, some reunited with families but others settling into the dormitories she built on her property. The Imbabazi trust continues to care for and educate Ros’ orphans as they grow older.
A young American woman named Devon has just started working here as an assistant manager, and gives us and another group of tourists that shows up the tour. The gardens are impressive, especially given the fact there has been no rain for 3 months. In season they would be spectacular. Green lawns, beds of flowers, rocky paths, and trees and plants brought to Ros from all over the world by her friends. The original house is still there (and was used in the movie Gorillas in the Mist), and Ros was buried on the property. We also tour the orphanage – part of which was once the pyrethrin drying sheds and has in fact been re-constructed to it’s original purpose. There are only about 25 orphans here now, most are boarding at secondary schools, but during term holidays there are almost 100 who are based here. They are trying to create income opportunities on the farm, such as the flower sales, and are looking at developing a dairy and bee keeping. Keeping 100 children fed and clothed and in school fees is not cheap!
Then back up the bumpy road, and another 20 minutes or so, mostly downhill to Gisenye. Sarah has been talking about getting car sick on the windy roads, but so far it seems to be simply discussions about the possibility rather than actual nausea. Jen and James are warned to look out for green-ness, but all continues to be well. We turn left and travel along the eastern shore of Lake Kivu where there is the very large Bralira brewery, source of Primus and Mutzig and maybe several other of the local beers. They draw methane from under the lake and use it to power at least part of the factory. According to the guidebook the grain waste is fed to the local fishes, not sure it they could be classified as a local “beer-fed” specialty. Large wooden canoes with what look like outriggers are pulled up on the shoreline, and they are hordes of splashing and screaming kids playing in the water. Our destination is a hotel/restaurant called Paradis, which turns out to be a lovely place with tables out near the lake on a small rocky peninsula. We have lots and lots of time to admire the view and to watch the myriad of herons, kingfishers, sunbirds, and mousebirds that abound. There is a small island offshore, and various boats that proceed out into the lake, either by oar or by power. Unfortunately it is so hazy there isn’t much of a view across the lake, apparently from Gisenyi the glow of the active Nyiramgamo volcano can be seen at night. Lunch is served on wooden trenchers and is excellent – James and I order local Tilapia, which is grilled over charcoal and served as the whole (gutted of course) fish.
Once fed we backtrack to the main road and turn into Gisenye to see the fruit bats that roost in trees along the beachfront. There is a long stretch of sandy beach and pubic waterfront – there is a wedding taking place with awnings and tents and lots of white linen, a party of some sort with a big sound system which has accumulated a large crowd of local people lining the fence and enjoying the music, and lots of kids swimming and enjoying the water. We admire the squeaking bats up in their trees, get swarmed by the craftsellers, who also kindly tell us that I have not left my car in a good place and there are thieves about who might take our baggages, and dip our toes into the water before loading up for the trip back to Musanze. We can now all say we have walked and sat by one of Africa’s limnic, or exploding lakes and survived. The drive back included a stop at a crafts shop, where James is the big buyer purchasing a stick similar to the ones children use to herd cattle (a cattle bopper we name it) and a carved wooden antelope, black in colour with white striping. We decide it must be meant to be an okapi, although some of the statues, especially the ones with young, look rather like hyenas in the company of small pigs. James gets a major ribbing for his purchase on our return.
Elizabeth’s sewing is ready – her purse and pants look great and the fabric choices work well. And they have even made a similar small purse for Sarah, which sends her into second heaven – she is so excited. Now she has a purse to put her purses into. Whatever! Back to MGVP where Jan and Mike have had a quiet and well appreciated day to themselves, and Jan has even baked a superb banana bread for us all.
Dinner tonight at the Muhubura – a local hangout where Dian Fossey apparently ate and stayed. They have a long verandah overlooking the road, and this is a common spot for the gorilla expats to get together, drink beer, and catch up with each other. We’re joined by max and Jacques, who run the Rwnadan cycling team and have the enormous Boerbull dog, and Katie and Glenn from Karisoke Research station. A long wait, a good meal, and lots of interesting conversation. I chat for a while with a Rwandan who is working as a judge in Musanze – he tells us there is discussion about a law that would specify a maximum of three children – he thinks it might eventually happen. Family is important here, but there is no doubt the country is severely stretched by its massive population. Sarah is having a whale of a time with these social evenings – drinking her pop and sneaking other people’s beer, and telling various people they are either funny or she loves them. Mike is in the funny category, and Jan is her best buddy, especially after giving her a gorilla badge (which she carefully tapes onto her shirt every morning) and nail polish this morning. I like the walk home in the dark after dinner – the outline of the monkey puzzle trees against the sky is truly unusual, and there were even stars out tonight. It looks like the rains are not quite ready to come.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Monday August 23, 2010 – Lounging about at Lake Bunyonyi
Monday August 23, 2010 – Lounging about at Lake Bunyonyi
We woke up to the sound of birds all around us – and not until almost 8:00. From the comfort of our beds we can see out through the open front of the geodome to the lake and the opposite shore. Crowned cranes fly past, there is a range of sunbirds, weavers, and a pair of Heuglin’s robins singing their hearts out from our deck. This is an incredibly relaxing place. Breakfast was a dream – cheese omelets in chapatti, fruit crepes, French toast with honey and an open flask of tea all day. There is a young Finnish fellow here that was at the Crater Lake with us, as well as a range of backpacker types of various affluence levels. One young woman from Toronto, who looks like she just went through chemo, brought collapsible hula hoops and a Tibetan prayer bowl with her as talking points with people she meets along the way. Jan and I are making everyone crazy with our bird books and binoculars, but we’re having fun. After breakfast Elizabeth and I put on our bathing suits and went for a swim of the dock. The water is quite still and very pleasant temperature, that is once you are in. There are so few places in Africa where one can go for a swim in a lake, just like at home. Between crocodiles, hippos, and bilharzias there just aren’t too many options, but this is one of them. There are apparently otters here but I wouldn’t expect to see one from where we are splashing about at the swimming dock. The deck on our geodome is also a great place to sit and catch up this diary as well as keep an eye out for new species. The day passes remarkably quickly in major relaxation mode – reading and sunning, interspersed with a fabulous lunch, tea, more swimming, a stroll around the island (about 15 minutes in total circumference) and even a nap for Sarah. Dinner has to be pre-ordered from the fairly extensive menu – 7:00 as the sun goes down we are again eating by candle lantern and chatting with the others. There is a big group of British university students here who have been building schools, so after dessert we retire to the quieter location on our deck to finish our beers and enjoy the moon and the sounds of the frogs, and the African drums in the distance, before turning in for the night. On the subject of dessert, we had rum balls and I have to say they were the best rum balls I have ever had in my life – a totally unexpected treat.
We woke up to the sound of birds all around us – and not until almost 8:00. From the comfort of our beds we can see out through the open front of the geodome to the lake and the opposite shore. Crowned cranes fly past, there is a range of sunbirds, weavers, and a pair of Heuglin’s robins singing their hearts out from our deck. This is an incredibly relaxing place. Breakfast was a dream – cheese omelets in chapatti, fruit crepes, French toast with honey and an open flask of tea all day. There is a young Finnish fellow here that was at the Crater Lake with us, as well as a range of backpacker types of various affluence levels. One young woman from Toronto, who looks like she just went through chemo, brought collapsible hula hoops and a Tibetan prayer bowl with her as talking points with people she meets along the way. Jan and I are making everyone crazy with our bird books and binoculars, but we’re having fun. After breakfast Elizabeth and I put on our bathing suits and went for a swim of the dock. The water is quite still and very pleasant temperature, that is once you are in. There are so few places in Africa where one can go for a swim in a lake, just like at home. Between crocodiles, hippos, and bilharzias there just aren’t too many options, but this is one of them. There are apparently otters here but I wouldn’t expect to see one from where we are splashing about at the swimming dock. The deck on our geodome is also a great place to sit and catch up this diary as well as keep an eye out for new species. The day passes remarkably quickly in major relaxation mode – reading and sunning, interspersed with a fabulous lunch, tea, more swimming, a stroll around the island (about 15 minutes in total circumference) and even a nap for Sarah. Dinner has to be pre-ordered from the fairly extensive menu – 7:00 as the sun goes down we are again eating by candle lantern and chatting with the others. There is a big group of British university students here who have been building schools, so after dessert we retire to the quieter location on our deck to finish our beers and enjoy the moon and the sounds of the frogs, and the African drums in the distance, before turning in for the night. On the subject of dessert, we had rum balls and I have to say they were the best rum balls I have ever had in my life – a totally unexpected treat.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Thursday August 26, 2010 – a slower day at MGVP
Thursday August 26, 2010 – a slower day at MGVP
Today is a slow, working day. I read slides, Sarah hangs out with doggies and chats to everyone, and Elizabeth reads, does some work on the computer, and starts on some HBO series they have here on a series of discs. Oz, a prison saga. Jen, from Davis California and here to work on her PhD project with James arrives and moves into the girls “bunkhouse” with Elizabeth. Mike and James go for a major bike ride – James wearing a motorcycle helmet because none of the nike helmets fit him. Apparently they attracted a huge following on their travels – local racing them and kids trying to hop on the back of the cargo bikes and grab rides. For dinner we ate at another restaurant close by – Sarah’s has a canker bothering her so she’s on a pasta kick, but her soda makes her cheer up. And home to bed early again.
Today is a slow, working day. I read slides, Sarah hangs out with doggies and chats to everyone, and Elizabeth reads, does some work on the computer, and starts on some HBO series they have here on a series of discs. Oz, a prison saga. Jen, from Davis California and here to work on her PhD project with James arrives and moves into the girls “bunkhouse” with Elizabeth. Mike and James go for a major bike ride – James wearing a motorcycle helmet because none of the nike helmets fit him. Apparently they attracted a huge following on their travels – local racing them and kids trying to hop on the back of the cargo bikes and grab rides. For dinner we ate at another restaurant close by – Sarah’s has a canker bothering her so she’s on a pasta kick, but her soda makes her cheer up. And home to bed early again.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Wednesday August 25, 2010 – baby gorillas, a trip to the fabric market, and pizza for dinner
Wednesday August 25, 2010 – baby gorillas, a trip to the fabric market, and pizza for dinner
After Leon’s breakfast – toast, eggs, coffee and tea, we met up with Magda, the regional field veterinarian, and went off to Kinigi to look at the orphans. Sarah’s big chance to see gorillas. Kinigi is about 30 minutes drive up towards the base of the volcanoes and is the trailhead/base for gorilla trekking as well as the site of the orphanage – a walled compound within which live 6 young gorillas, not really babies any more, with their caretakers. The views of the volcanoes are usually spectacular from here, but with the current dust haze they are barely visible across the horizon. There are 2 mountain gorillas, Maisha and Koboko, and 6 eastern lowland gorillas. All originated from Congo but there were no facilities to care for them there so they ended up here under MGVP. For about 6 years now, but the plans are underway for them to go back. But they are here now and one has diarrhea, so Magda dons mask and coveralls and gum-boots and goes off to look at them, and the girls and I climb up onto the roof of Magda’s truck to look over the wall and view the gorillas. They are mostly interested in what she is doing and line up along to far side of the compound, but once she finished her business and comes back to the truck to join us they all come back and start climbing on their play structure and beating their little chests and wrestling with either other. One of the care givers climbs up onto the structure as well and the smallest one climbs into his lap and settles in for a rest. They are cute and fuzzy and turning into big strong gorillas – no one actually goes in with them now except their caregivers as if they decided to go for you it would be nasty. But we enjoy watching them for another half hour or so, and then climb back down to the ground, which is rather a trick for Sarah, and head back to MGVP for a delicious Leon lunch. Mike is awake and is introduced to the girls.
In the afternoon we go to change money and buy fabric. The best rate for Rwandan francs is at the pharmacists, an Indian man who has been in Rwandan for many many years. And apparently its perfectly legal. He makes his money by giving a horrible rate when selling dollars to Rwandans. I have never seen him smile, and he didn’t smile much while we did our transaction. But as Sarah starts to melt down and refuse to leave and say she’s hungry, he gets a big smile on his face, tells me I must be patient and she reminds him of his daughter, and proceeds to get here a plate of cookies and crackers, brings her behind the counter to sit at his desk, and take her time over her snack. He then gives me a little lecture about how I must be patient, and how her problem is caused by a lack of oxygen and she must practice breathing in the morning and the evening. He gives Sarah a little pep talk about breathing as well, and is very sweet to her. You just never know.
Across the road from the pharmacy is the market – a large cement walled compound filled with aisles and isles of little stalls. Those in the front have mostly clothing and shoes, but in the back there are rows and rows of bright patterned African waxed fabrics. We go up and down the rows for a while, and finally choose a morseau for some pants to be made, and another for an over the shoulder purse. We get a bit swarmed by everyone trying to sell us their stuff, in a combination of English and French, but they are all good humoured about it. There are many small children with their mothers and Sarah has a good time talking to them, tickling them, and patting their heads. But one little boy hides his head under his mothers skirt, and then cries when Sarah tries to play peek a boo with him. Apparently some mothers tell their kids the muzungu will get them if they don’t behave. So some of the little ones think we might just be boogey-men. We take the fabric across the road to a tailor shop – a dozen men and women sewing away on treadle machines, and Elizabeth shows the pants she wants copied, gets measured for them by the senior tailor – a novel experience having a strange man measure her hips and inseam, and we tell him to make a purse like Jan has had made, and if there is fabric left over then a little one for Sarah.
Back again to MGVP to sort out odds and ends, look at some slides, and sort some of the beautifully clean and ironed laundry that Leon and Felicien have been working through. The water, which was off this morning and might have been off for several days, has come back on so we are all happy at the prospect of hot showers.
For dinner we walk down the road a bit to the Volcanos - a bar/restaurant with a wood-fired pizza oven and a nice open verandah on the second floor. The pizzas of course take some time, and are delivered two by two as I guess that’ what the oven takes, but it’s a nice evening.
After Leon’s breakfast – toast, eggs, coffee and tea, we met up with Magda, the regional field veterinarian, and went off to Kinigi to look at the orphans. Sarah’s big chance to see gorillas. Kinigi is about 30 minutes drive up towards the base of the volcanoes and is the trailhead/base for gorilla trekking as well as the site of the orphanage – a walled compound within which live 6 young gorillas, not really babies any more, with their caretakers. The views of the volcanoes are usually spectacular from here, but with the current dust haze they are barely visible across the horizon. There are 2 mountain gorillas, Maisha and Koboko, and 6 eastern lowland gorillas. All originated from Congo but there were no facilities to care for them there so they ended up here under MGVP. For about 6 years now, but the plans are underway for them to go back. But they are here now and one has diarrhea, so Magda dons mask and coveralls and gum-boots and goes off to look at them, and the girls and I climb up onto the roof of Magda’s truck to look over the wall and view the gorillas. They are mostly interested in what she is doing and line up along to far side of the compound, but once she finished her business and comes back to the truck to join us they all come back and start climbing on their play structure and beating their little chests and wrestling with either other. One of the care givers climbs up onto the structure as well and the smallest one climbs into his lap and settles in for a rest. They are cute and fuzzy and turning into big strong gorillas – no one actually goes in with them now except their caregivers as if they decided to go for you it would be nasty. But we enjoy watching them for another half hour or so, and then climb back down to the ground, which is rather a trick for Sarah, and head back to MGVP for a delicious Leon lunch. Mike is awake and is introduced to the girls.
In the afternoon we go to change money and buy fabric. The best rate for Rwandan francs is at the pharmacists, an Indian man who has been in Rwandan for many many years. And apparently its perfectly legal. He makes his money by giving a horrible rate when selling dollars to Rwandans. I have never seen him smile, and he didn’t smile much while we did our transaction. But as Sarah starts to melt down and refuse to leave and say she’s hungry, he gets a big smile on his face, tells me I must be patient and she reminds him of his daughter, and proceeds to get here a plate of cookies and crackers, brings her behind the counter to sit at his desk, and take her time over her snack. He then gives me a little lecture about how I must be patient, and how her problem is caused by a lack of oxygen and she must practice breathing in the morning and the evening. He gives Sarah a little pep talk about breathing as well, and is very sweet to her. You just never know.
Across the road from the pharmacy is the market – a large cement walled compound filled with aisles and isles of little stalls. Those in the front have mostly clothing and shoes, but in the back there are rows and rows of bright patterned African waxed fabrics. We go up and down the rows for a while, and finally choose a morseau for some pants to be made, and another for an over the shoulder purse. We get a bit swarmed by everyone trying to sell us their stuff, in a combination of English and French, but they are all good humoured about it. There are many small children with their mothers and Sarah has a good time talking to them, tickling them, and patting their heads. But one little boy hides his head under his mothers skirt, and then cries when Sarah tries to play peek a boo with him. Apparently some mothers tell their kids the muzungu will get them if they don’t behave. So some of the little ones think we might just be boogey-men. We take the fabric across the road to a tailor shop – a dozen men and women sewing away on treadle machines, and Elizabeth shows the pants she wants copied, gets measured for them by the senior tailor – a novel experience having a strange man measure her hips and inseam, and we tell him to make a purse like Jan has had made, and if there is fabric left over then a little one for Sarah.
Back again to MGVP to sort out odds and ends, look at some slides, and sort some of the beautifully clean and ironed laundry that Leon and Felicien have been working through. The water, which was off this morning and might have been off for several days, has come back on so we are all happy at the prospect of hot showers.
For dinner we walk down the road a bit to the Volcanos - a bar/restaurant with a wood-fired pizza oven and a nice open verandah on the second floor. The pizzas of course take some time, and are delivered two by two as I guess that’ what the oven takes, but it’s a nice evening.
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