Rwanda & Burundi

I spent a mere week in Rwanda, a country dubbed the 'Switzerland of Africa'. Although Uganda was also a land of dense green, scrunched hill upon hill, thick forests, and tiny villages, Rwanda did indeed surprise me with its sheer natural beauty, unique landscape as well as the level of development.

After leaving Kampala, (not without taking a bite out of the famed nightlife, two nights in a row working magic on the dance floor 'til dawn, watching movies and wandering the city with a fellow couchsurfer Stephan, getting my hair braided with super hero blue lightening bolts, (much to the glee of the salon :), and topping it all off by attending a ba'hai sunday service in a temple, in which they opened all 6 sets of double doors in around the circular chapel so that the light mixed with the choir voices, swirling around, up to the turquoise ceiling and back down to each person... enchanting!), I took a night bus to Kisoro. I was warned against doing so, but found no other option so off we went into the darkness.

Let me just say, in my humble opinion, Ugandan bus drivers drive like they clinically insane. The road was, as usual, underdeveloped, pitted and potholed as well a continuous series of winding switchbacks and you would not believe the speeds in which we were flying! I lost count of the number of times that every passenger was ejected from their seats and in one, very harrowing instance, the bus nearly crashed, grinding to the right, wheels on my side in the air, people tossed to the side, ladies calling upon "Jesus Christ!" clutching their babies and suddenly we pitched the other direction, a plume of dust filled the bus, we wobbled, found a balance, and amazingly did not slow down AT ALL! The passengers complained loudly, but there was a wall between the cabin and the driver and I, having remained surprisingly calm, kept trying to assure myself that I was going to see the gorillas. We were not going to crash, because I could feel I would see the gorillas... the power of positive thought I figured :).

Fortunately, we made it in one piece, I tracked down a hotel that had rooms with private bathrooms and hot water - I needed a shower after what turned out to be a 12 hour journey (vs. the claimed 8). Alex in Kampala had helped me arrange a permit so I checked in at the office and prepared for tracking gorillas the next day.

The visitors center at Mgahinga National Park is very well developed with a lot of information about the animal life in the forest and the history of the protective efforts for the endangered mnt. gorillas. I was signing in and suddenly there was a rustle behind me. The trail into the forest came to a T just a couple meters from the visitors center and a man came running from around the corner. A giant flash of gray whizzed by followed by a loud CRACK! BANG BANG! "Was that a gorilla?" I asked. Another man raced across the T following the flash with a gun in his hands. Another couple shots rang out and three hikers emerged, huddled together, one girl clutching her back. We had seen these hikers enter the forest just a minute or two earlier and apparently they had come face to face with an angry buffalo who had knocked her down and stepped on her before running away... THIS is why you go hiking in Africa!! It was an exciting opening to our own gorilla tracking.

After a short briefing, four paying trackers including myself, our guide, and our security set out to meet a man with a machete who would lead us to where the gorillas were last sighted and we would track them from there. Because of the buffalo incident, our guide chose to take us around the base of the mountain, outside the forest through charming settlements. As always, children came running from their hiding places and farm animals paid us no attention. Once we forged into the forest, the path, when there was one, was steep. We bushwhacked to an opening where we came upon the most beautiful creatures! I massive silverback gorilla, turned to glance at us and I imagined him thinking, 'Ah... they're back'. I wonder if they notice it's different people each time or if the presence of a few familiar faces is all that matters.

We were meeting the 9 members of the Nyakagezi family. The only family of the three in Mgahinga that is habituated to humans. We kept an average of 7m distance and were allowed to follow them as they moved from tree to tree to bush for a maximum of one hour. The babies swung haphazardly from limbs and the incredibly muscled silverbacks lazed on the ground, sometimes rolling around and even reaching over to caress the babies when they came near. They are so human-like! I wanted so badly to go up and cuddle with them, just to be enveloped in their enormous arms, a giant gorilla hug! They really seemed not to care at all that we were following them and the next thing you know, our time was up and we had to return, bidding farewell to our distant relatives.

The next morning I hired a motorcycle taxi to take me and my seemingly-heavier-by-the-day backpack to the border. Just 10k, but along the ubiquitous bumpy, rocky, uneven roads that I've become used to. My abs and quads were straining to keep me upright as gravity tugged on my bag. I have imagined myself falling off one of these moto-taxis on numerous occasions as we rumbled along, and now, I need not wonder any longer. On one particularly steep hill, the bike slowed to chug it's way up and I felt that hand of gravity tighten and yank me backwards. I'm sure with the upmost of grace, I fell off the bike and down the hill. Tangled in the straps, I lay there for a moment before righting myself and dusting off the scratches. My driver, horrified, rushed to help me and would not let me touch the bag, but insisted on carrying it in front of him, however uncomfortable, which actually made the ride a lot easier. Once at the border, I walked into no-mans land, signed out with the police in their little shack, signed out with immigration and for the first time, there was no visa fee to enter the next country!

My first stop, Gisenyi, a resort town for the Rwandan wealthy was somewhat unimpressive. I had decided to hop the border into the Democratic Republic of the Congo, but recently the border rules changed due to corruption, so I would have to email some director in advance, receive an official letter of invitation and then proceed (with a possible tripling or more of the visa fee?), so that was out. Instead, I continued on down Lake Kivu, one of the most scenic drives of my entire trip through gleaming tea plantations, so many hills you'd think they stole them from neighboring countries, each with several little huts perched atop and interesting little villages sprinkled throughout. Kibuye is a small town and the real highlight has been the Bethany hotel. Set right on the water, a gorgeous view of the peaceful lake from my porch and wifi (such a luxury)! I went for a jog followed by a swim in my own little cove this morning and feel so refreshed!

My first stop, Gisenyi, a resort town for the Rwandan wealthy was somewhat unimpressive. I had decided to hop the border into the Democratic Republic of the Congo, but recently the border rules changed due to corruption, so I would have to email some director in advance, receive an official letter of invitation and then proceed (with a possible tripling or more of the visa fee?), thus, with my limited schedule, I did not have the time to verify and so that option was unfortunately out. Instead, I continued on down Lake Kivu, one of the most scenic drives of my entire trip through gleaming tea plantations, so many hills you'd think they stole them from neighboring countries, each with several little huts perched atop and interesting little villages sprinkled throughout, often along the edge of a steep dropoff and the most comanding views! Kibuye is a small town and the real highlight has been the Bethany hotel. Set right on the shore, a gorgeous view of the peaceful lake with it's many hills tipping into the waters from my porch and I must not forget the wireless internet (such a luxury)! I went for a jog in the morning followed by a swim in my own little cove and wonder if there is anything so refreshing!

I made the short two and a half trip to the capital of Kigali through even more inspiring countryside and met Hannes, another couchsurfer who invited me to join him and a local friend to the Kigali Expo. A two week event focusing on commerce during the day and turning into a random bunch of stages with dancers and DJs. I was SO entertained! I think by this time it is clear that I like to dance, but for once I was more interested in watching the locals dance! The majority male crowd danced together so very enthusiastically, perhaps it had something to do with the late hour and the generous amounts of beer available, but I had never seen anything like it. Dressed to the nines, with fedoras and scarves and chic style, they had a repertoire of dance moves that made me grin.

The following day, I ventured into the city on foot, first crossing a valley, one of the many as the city is built on even more hills than Kampala. To get anywhere requires several ups and downs, but it was warm and quite a pleasant walk. The first thing I noticed was how very clean the city was. More so than any other capital and the streets were wide and fairly well developed. Rwanda is the first (and only that I know of) country that requires motortaxis to not only wear, but provide helmets and they actually follow the rules of the road. There was an order and a sense of progress absent in my previous travels that was impressive. Kagame, the president of Rwanda who was actually being sworn in for a third term of seven years on the Monday that I was in town, is apparently attempting to turn the city into an attractive place for investments and business development by, among other things, installing a network of fiber optics. I see a lot of interesting changes taking place here in the next decade.

That night, I was invited into a Rwandan home to celebrate a birthday and served dish after dish of delicious food and the following day, thwarted by bouts of serious downpoor as well as the inexplicable closure, I was unable to visit the genocide memorial, but did manage to try the popular Rwandan buffet for dinner and check out a couple afterhours hotspots.

The next morning, I awoke early to catch a 7hr bus to Bujumbura, the capital of Burundi. I had heard conflicting information about requiring a special invitation to enter, and the price of the visa ranging from $20-$50 USD, but I already missed out on the Congo so I was going to try my luck at the Burundian border. Luck was with me and the visa, with the assistance of a very helpful local, was easy to obtain and only $20! Yet another extremely helpful Rwandan (thank you again Fabrice!) who happened to study in the US, was absolutely a life-saver as Burundi is even more francophone and my limited french was very ineffective. We discovered, after a lengthy process and several motortaxi rides that there were no passenger ferries running to Tanzania, which is a shame because I had heard the trip down Lake Tanganika, one of Africa's deepest, is beautiful. This means my last week will be spent retracing my steps, busing back up and around Lake Victoria (rather than through Tanzania, which would take the same amount of time, but offers no direct buses and no paved roads... I debated for quite some time over which route to take, usually preferring the more rustic/scenic route, but in end decided to visit my friends in Kamapala and Nairobi once more).

Skipped Highlights

I've missed a couple major stories, so here is a quick synopsis:

The wedding in Arusha

The most random series of events that I have ever witnessed. Dan and I, dressed to the nines in our new, custom tailored African duds, danced and laughed our way through approximately 8 hours of one odd tradition after another, an absolutely stoic, straightfaced wedding party, standing in the back of a truck with the band as we circled the prominant round-a-bouts in town and stopped to take pictures in the middle of one, watched 60+ yr old ladies popin' their booty like they were 40 yrs younger, were called to dance down the aisle to the front and then fed bits of cake in front of everyone and watched strange performances including a man with socks on his hands dancing on his knees with empty glass bottles in his hands and mouth! This was one of the highlights of my time in Africa!

Hunting with the Bushmen

We awoke very early in order to find the Bushmen around dawn. Our lug of a bus trundled through the bush until suddenly we spotted a fire just off the way and could just make out figures hidden behind the brush. Once we disembarked, they wasted no time in frivolities, handed two of us bows (I got one! :) and began jogging away - no words necessary, we were off! To be honest, "hunting" with a bunch of tenderfoot westerners loping behind, I can't imagine they really expected to make a kill, although I have heard of others getting lucky. There was one point in which some little furry animal rushed by and although I drew my bow, there is no way I ever would have let an arrow fly. I ammused myself quite contentedly running around and shooting at random targets, developing quite a good aim if I do say so myself ;) Those trees and bushes didn't see me coming!
We visited the blacksmith in his shop made of twigs and branches. He showed us how he melted scraps of metal into bracelets and arrowheads and we took turns trying out the airbags and stoking the fire. The man commented that I was very good and that I would make a good wife - I'd better make sure to let my next suiter know!
Finally, following Dan's lead, I climbed onto the roof of our bus, while it was moving mind you, and we were soon joined by a couple of the other staff for some bus surfing and the very best way to take in the African countryside! The boys even got some mid-air high-fives with other buses!

Final Final Ceremony

The last ceremony in Mongola Ju was a day filled with both joy and early-onset nostalgia. They had set up a volleyball net and we played a few rounds surrounded tightly by the children who would squeal anytime a rally would end. We played a million hand games and danced and sang with the students. A group of older students sang several goodbye songs in english and it was so lovely and sad that it brought tears to my eyes. They unveiled a sign commemorating the work done by Rustic Pathways and gave us not one, but two gifts. Each of the female staff got kitenges, the cloth wrapped around by the women and the guys got super tight TShirts that said Dubai on them, ha! Then we were presented with a couple gourds on strings and were told that this was the traditional "lunch box" taken on long journeys. Wonderful! We then shared boxes of donations made by the students with the heads of the school as well as a big pot of Guacamole accompanied by their rice and chicken - An African Thanksgiving :)