Uganda and Rafting on The Nile

This past weekend was a 3AM wakeup to sing and make eggs in a basket for Arley's birthday face before our excursion to our brother country of Uganda. By 5AM we were on a big, crowded, hot and sweaty, 12 hour bus ride over the equator to Kampala, Uganda. Rural Uganda proved to be pretty similar to Rwanda. Similar landscape, house structures, and animals. However, very different people. If you read my last post, you would have learned that the Rwandan personality is a generally enclosed, and introverted. Contrastingly, Ugandans are generally loud, outgoing, and absolutely not afraid to say what they're feeling. We would hear a lot of "HEY i want to marry a muzungu!", "HAlloo i love youu", "Shakira!", and "My Size!" Not that we don't hear this in Rwanda, but they are a little louder about their feelings in Uganda.

Kampala was big, hot, dusty, polluted, crowded, trashed, and more developed than Kigali. Almost every night we were there we went to get ice cream at a small Italian ice cream shop called "Choi Choi". We were too excited about getting ice cream. Our guest house (the African equivalent to a hotel) had wheat bread for breakfast! Another thing we get a little too excited about over here in Africa. (You would be surprised at the foods like cereal that cost over 20 dollars in Rwanda). They also have absolutely no concept of skim milk. Everything is full cream, unpasteurized milk straight from the cow's utter. This one had some getting use to.

On Friday we walked all over Kampala - through the biggest market in Uganda, to the Friday market that makes our markets look like Walmart (I wanted to buy everything), to the biggest Mosc in Uganda (there is major Muslim influence in Uganda), and to the very well known Mekerere University. That night we went to an amazing Mexican restaurant and an outdoor traditional Ugandan dance show. This show included Ugandan drummers, singers, and dancers who love to shake their booties. Each dance and dance move in Ugandan (and generally everywhere in Africa) symbolizes a part of Ugandan culture and society (for example, their hand movements mainly symbolize the horns of a cow).



The next morning at 6:30AM we all pilled into into the white water rafting bus to trek out to the Nile River. They provided us with tea and coffee, Rolexes (an omelette rolled up in chapati - aka my new favorite), fresh fruit, helmets and life vests. Nicoya, Ali, Mikaela, Arley, Ryan, Rae and I jumped into our raft with our Ugandan guide Dave D. who saved my life about four times. Let's just say i now understand what drowning feels like. However this feeling was quickly recovered by the rush of excitement we felt every time we flipped. And yes, we flipped every time. While the goal in American white water rafting is to stay on the raft, the goal in African white water rafting is to flip the raft.

It's all a blur when it happens. First it seems like you're going to make it; then you see the wave rushing back in your direction and you know its over. The boat flips and all you feel is the power of the waves and the rapids swallowing you and forcing you to lose all sense of direction as you tumble as if you're in a washing machine. You try to pull yourself into a ball so it is easy to float to the top but you don't float to the top because the waves keep pulling you back under. You feel like your lungs won't be able to hold any longer and you feel like you will inhale half the nile river with the breath you need to take. After a time that feels way too long, the rapid is over and you can finally relax. However, because of the impact of the waves, you still feel like you're drowning and gasping for air.

As your trying to figure out what just happened, the kayakers come around and rescue the drowning people. As you hold onto their kayaks like you're swimming with dolphins, they bring you around to nearby rafts. Everyone is discombobulated. People are climbing and being pulled into random rafts. When the impact is over, everyone is traded back to their respective rafts. And then it is peaceful again. Whenever the rapids are over, the guides allow us to take our helmets off and swim around. The water is the perfect temperature; warm but refreshing.

Because class six rapids = death/suicide, we were obligated to raft over to land and walk around this rapid. It is incredible watching so much force and power crashing against each other and rushing down the river. We walked along the side of the rapid as Davey D. brought our raft around. The end of the class 6 rapid was the class 5 rapid. This was it. As we approached the wave, the only thing i can say to explain how i was feeling is "this was it". There wasn't too much thinking going on at this moment. Probably because i was peeing my pants. It was like rafting into a tsunami. We flipped before i knew what happened and the same powerful force came over me. I thought i was going to drown for the third time. This rapid was 10 times more intense than what i have described above. This rapid was my definite favorite. The excitement of the rapid had me shaking and coughing up the Nile River for the next 15 minutes.

You'd think i would have gotten use to the rapids each time. But it seemed as though they kept getting more dangerous. The waves would come over me and i would keep getting stuck underneath the raft. Not a fun place to be when the waves just keep gushing into your face. When i finally get out, i am still being dragged underneath the raft. Dave. D. rescued me once again.

After the six hours of rafting was over, they provided a big dinner for us and our sunkissed, sore bodies. It was much needed before our 2 hour trek back to Kampala.

Recently what I’ve been learning here in Rwanda is that what you see on the outside is not always what you find out on the inside. I am learning this especially with these boys that I tutor. On the outside, they are just dirty little schoolboys. At first I didn’t really look past that. I knew they were supposedly on the street stealing or doing drugs, but when I saw them, they seemed too young and innocent to do any of that; I was just their teacher. However, learning more about the boys and seeing them on house visits, I have started seeing that each of these boys has a story that would break anyone’s heart. Some boys sleep on the ground in their one room house (I can’t even really call it a house), some have AIDS, some boys sell themselves to get drugs, some boys steel at the market to get food for their family. Clearly these boys aren’t just the young innocent boys you see in the classroom.

I see this a lot with Rwanda as a whole. Rwandans are people who don’t show their emotions. On the outside everyone seems fine; however, on the inside people might be hurting. This phenomenon enhanced quite a lot with the end of the genocide. The pain and the hurt people have felt because of this mass murder get bottled up inside of them. People don’t talk about the genocide now. Secretly they are hurting, but on the outside they seem fine. The month of April (the month the genocide took place) is the one time Rwandans show their emotions regarding the genocide. They gather at the national stadium to mourn and let out the pain that has been bottled up all year long. This is the one time in the year they feel they are able to show how they have been hurting.

Not only do I see this pattern with the street boys and the genocide, but I see this pattern in every day conversation.

A normal greeting in Rwanda goes like this:

 “Mwatamutse Neza”  (Is the morning fine?)

“Mwatamutse” (goodmorning)

“Amakuru?” (How are you?)

“Ni Meza” (I am fine)

These words are spoken word – for – word every time two people greet.

Every time you greet someone with “Amakuru”, the responder always says “Ni Meza”, no matter how he/she really is feeling – kind of reminds me of American culture too. Same with the greeting “Bite” (what’s up?) – the responder always responds with “Nbjieza” (I’m good). As I am writing this, I am hearing Rwandans speak these words.

The same idea coincides with the architectural structures of developing Rwanda (in Kigali only). On the outside, the buildings look beautiful and interesting. However, on the inside, the building might not be so efficient, space –wise. Instead of the square, every-inch-used buildings we see in New York City, Kigali has different shaped buildings that take up a considerable amount of space compared to their efficiency. The buildings might look “fine” on the outside, but their infrastructure might not be “fine”. I am learning these sorts of ideas all the time as I am living in Rwanda.