It feels like the setbacks never fail in Ndejje. Just when we think that we have established an after school program that can be successful, the locals who are supposed to be our support system here start to show that they don't understand why we are even doing the program in the first place.
The local director for Soccer Without Borders has been trying to help Courtney, Heather and me establish a good program to get kids into the youth center after school. We have a set schedule so that Tuesdays we have reading, Wednesdays games and puzzles, and Thursdays art. We have known for a while that it would be difficult to get students after school for a number of reasons: 1.) The concept of a youth center doesn't exist here, so people don't see it's value yet, 2.) Parents want their kids home for chores after school, and 3.) Many of the kids don't get out of school until around 6:30 pm.
Now, we understand that we won't be able to work with EVERY kid because of their parents' refusing them, and we are trying hard to address that, but we aren't getting any help from the locals. The local director and the Head Mistress (principal) of Hope Primary School have apparently been getting calls from concerned parents about where their kids have been after school and why they are getting home so late. We have tried sending home letters to be signed by parents so they understand what's going on. However, the calls keep coming. We have asked the Head Mistress to either give us their names (either of parents or the children) or have those parents call us, but she refuses to do either. How can we fix the problem if we don't know what the problem is?
The local director and Hope's Head Mistress have suggested that we limit the time we spend at the youth center with the kids so that we send them home at 5 pm. That literally would give us 15 minutes with the kids. They have also suggested that we start doing what we have planned for after school during the one hour a week that we spend in the classrooms with P3-P7. That completely defeats the purpose of our youth center. We have been here for 7 months trying to establish an after school program for the entire community, meaning getting kids for schools all over Ndejje to come to work with us, and they want us to throw that all away. We aren't here only to cater to Hope Primary School.
I've known for a long time that Ugandans are afraid of change and don't like new ideas. That's why they've had the same president for 25-going-on-30 years. That's why every restaurant serves the same five dishes in Ndejje. And it's why no one seems to understand, or even want to learn to understand, why Soccer Without Borders is here in the first place. Yes, it is hard work to establish an after school program. What we need is locals who are willing to do the heavy lifting, which is proving hard to come by. I don't care if that means Courtney, Heather and I will have to go to every kid's home and talk to their parents. I don't care if it means that we only get 30 kids who we know are able to come on a regular basis. It will all be worth it to know that we have established something that the kids can rely on and develop from. Now, all we need to know is which house we need to visit first.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
The Poles are Closed
Sorry for the delay... We've been banished from Kampala for the past week+ because of the elections in Uganda. Normally, elections are a peaceful and sometimes even exciting time, but in Africa, they are usually cause for fear and caution.
The elections went off without a hitch, thankfully, and there has been no major violence in Kampala so far. The problem with elections here, is that opposing sides are pinned so fiercely against one another. The National Resistance Movement (NRM) has been the ruling party in Uganda for 25 years now, ever since the overthrow of vicious dictator, Idi Amin. Oh, and did I mention that Yoweri Museveni has been the President of Uganda for that entire time? Originally, he was limited to two 5-year terms, but he was able to extend the number of terms indefinitely by changing the constitution. Obviously, this isn't the most democratic practice, but the common folk of Uganda see it as a good thing, because he has "brought peace and prosperity for the people" and "he is the only one who knows how to do the job in Uganda" (Quotes coming directly from my imagination as a summary of what villagers have been telling me).
The opposition party doesn't exactly have it's act together either. The Forum for Democratic Change (FDC) is the strongest opposition, but is no where near as powerful as the NRM. Part of the problem is that it is a coalition party, meaning that it is made up of a union of smaller parties. Unfortunately, one of the fears or the people is that if the FDC were to get into power, the party members wouldn't share the same ideologies and doctrines, and the government would split, running in different directions towards different issues.
What it ultimately comes down to is money. The NRM controls the government and the national purse. Actually, the NRM spent 85% of this years national budget on political campaigns, and it shows. You can't walk anywhere in Kampala without seeing a yellow NRM sign or Museveni's face with his trademark farmers hat, since he's "One of the common folk". And surprisingly (kind of), the cities are actually the FDC's strongest voter bases. The rural areas just tend to support Museveni (M7 to his friends) because they are uninformed voters and fear that the country will fall back into war and obscurity if someone else is left at the helm.
So elections are always a toss up... Kind of. The NRM won handily, with 68% of the votes, thus starting M7's sixth (and final?) term. Some think that Museveni will try to become the first president of the East African Community in 2017, if the position is established that is, giving himself a nice little retirement package. Who knows if this election is over yet though. Rumor has it that the opposition is still trying to stage a demonstration in the upcoming weeks. But don't worry. We've already hatched an escape plan including a military transport and a place to stay near to the US Embassy.
The elections went off without a hitch, thankfully, and there has been no major violence in Kampala so far. The problem with elections here, is that opposing sides are pinned so fiercely against one another. The National Resistance Movement (NRM) has been the ruling party in Uganda for 25 years now, ever since the overthrow of vicious dictator, Idi Amin. Oh, and did I mention that Yoweri Museveni has been the President of Uganda for that entire time? Originally, he was limited to two 5-year terms, but he was able to extend the number of terms indefinitely by changing the constitution. Obviously, this isn't the most democratic practice, but the common folk of Uganda see it as a good thing, because he has "brought peace and prosperity for the people" and "he is the only one who knows how to do the job in Uganda" (Quotes coming directly from my imagination as a summary of what villagers have been telling me).
The opposition party doesn't exactly have it's act together either. The Forum for Democratic Change (FDC) is the strongest opposition, but is no where near as powerful as the NRM. Part of the problem is that it is a coalition party, meaning that it is made up of a union of smaller parties. Unfortunately, one of the fears or the people is that if the FDC were to get into power, the party members wouldn't share the same ideologies and doctrines, and the government would split, running in different directions towards different issues.
What it ultimately comes down to is money. The NRM controls the government and the national purse. Actually, the NRM spent 85% of this years national budget on political campaigns, and it shows. You can't walk anywhere in Kampala without seeing a yellow NRM sign or Museveni's face with his trademark farmers hat, since he's "One of the common folk". And surprisingly (kind of), the cities are actually the FDC's strongest voter bases. The rural areas just tend to support Museveni (M7 to his friends) because they are uninformed voters and fear that the country will fall back into war and obscurity if someone else is left at the helm.
So elections are always a toss up... Kind of. The NRM won handily, with 68% of the votes, thus starting M7's sixth (and final?) term. Some think that Museveni will try to become the first president of the East African Community in 2017, if the position is established that is, giving himself a nice little retirement package. Who knows if this election is over yet though. Rumor has it that the opposition is still trying to stage a demonstration in the upcoming weeks. But don't worry. We've already hatched an escape plan including a military transport and a place to stay near to the US Embassy.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Training Fresh
The SWB-Ndejje Team has recently decided to go separate ways with our local staff member, Deo. Although he was a decent coach, all he was interested in was coaching a older boys team, a select team. He didn't practice, or even buy into, many of the Soccer Without Borders beliefs--equality for women, giving all ages equal practice time, making sure the kids have fun--and it showed in his actions both at training and at home.
Now we can start anew. We had our first training since his departure on Saturday, and it felt great. We were able to run the practice how we wanted to without having Deo sitting around doing nothing, bringing down the energy of the training, and frustrating Heather, Courtney and me. We also now have the opportunity to find a different local coach who understands that SWB isn't just about soccer--It's actually more about the education. We can find someone who will want to learn how to be a SWB coach, who will actually enjoy the kids. No more throwing out a soccer ball and sitting in the shade for an hour.
Although finding a new coach in Ndejje will be a daunting task, it is so much better than the alternative: Doing nothing, continuing to allow Deo to hinder SWB's teachings, and passing this problem off to the next set of interns. It may be hard to find someone who is motivated to become the type of coach SWB wants, there is no other way to show the kids here that they don't have to succumb to the norm. That they can change their life's course by changing their mind set and starting to think for themselves.
Now we can start anew. We had our first training since his departure on Saturday, and it felt great. We were able to run the practice how we wanted to without having Deo sitting around doing nothing, bringing down the energy of the training, and frustrating Heather, Courtney and me. We also now have the opportunity to find a different local coach who understands that SWB isn't just about soccer--It's actually more about the education. We can find someone who will want to learn how to be a SWB coach, who will actually enjoy the kids. No more throwing out a soccer ball and sitting in the shade for an hour.
Although finding a new coach in Ndejje will be a daunting task, it is so much better than the alternative: Doing nothing, continuing to allow Deo to hinder SWB's teachings, and passing this problem off to the next set of interns. It may be hard to find someone who is motivated to become the type of coach SWB wants, there is no other way to show the kids here that they don't have to succumb to the norm. That they can change their life's course by changing their mind set and starting to think for themselves.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Sending Refugee Kids to School
A new school term has started in Uganda. Although this means that we will hopefully have more time to work with the kids since they will not be studying as much for their end-of-year exams, it also means that many of the children in Ndejje will not be able to go to school anymore. We have noticed that there are many kids in the area that aren't going to school yet, mainly because they can't afford the school fees for the term at this point. They are waiting for their parents to raise the money, IF they can raise the money, before going to class, which means that they are all getting behind in their schoolwork.
One of the great things about Hope Primary School, the school Soccer Without Borders - Ndejje has worked with most closely, is that they allow refugee children to enroll. Most of the schools in the area are funded by the government, which requires them NOT to admit refugee children. Although some school have secretly been letting refugees enroll anyways, Hope P.S. is one of the few openly accepting them AND letting them enroll at a nominal price. That being said, most of the children that we have seen "waiting" to go to school have been refugees.
I have talked to Jacques, the man who started Hope P.S., and he has told me that the fee for refugees to go to school for the entire year is only $30, or 60,000 Ugandan Shillings. I would like to invite anyone who is able to help to click on the link on the right hand side to donate. I can't help but ask when a child can get an education for the price of a night out or of a new sweater.
Thank you so much for your support. Anyone who does sponsor a child for the year, I will be sure to send you a picture of the one that you sent to school.
One of the great things about Hope Primary School, the school Soccer Without Borders - Ndejje has worked with most closely, is that they allow refugee children to enroll. Most of the schools in the area are funded by the government, which requires them NOT to admit refugee children. Although some school have secretly been letting refugees enroll anyways, Hope P.S. is one of the few openly accepting them AND letting them enroll at a nominal price. That being said, most of the children that we have seen "waiting" to go to school have been refugees.
I have talked to Jacques, the man who started Hope P.S., and he has told me that the fee for refugees to go to school for the entire year is only $30, or 60,000 Ugandan Shillings. I would like to invite anyone who is able to help to click on the link on the right hand side to donate. I can't help but ask when a child can get an education for the price of a night out or of a new sweater.
Thank you so much for your support. Anyone who does sponsor a child for the year, I will be sure to send you a picture of the one that you sent to school.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Back in Ndejje
Time moves fast, and life changes just as quickly. In what feels like only the time span of one day, I have gone from enjoying last laughs and a last supper with Sarah, Kyle, and Ryan, to mindlessly passing time in transit, to crying myself to sleep over homesickness, lovesickness, and anxiety about the next 5 months of my life, to peacefully watching the sleeping hills of Ndejje under the early morning moonlight.
I have never stayed up this late/woken up this early here in Uganda. Such a contrast. Probably the only time I will actually feel true quiet here. The moon is full, bright enough to write from. Although I do miss my home and the ones I love, I feel somehow rejuvenated in coming back. Recharged. Even if most of the sense of adventure is gone, I think that I am more focused, repurposed. I know the frustrations ahead of me and now expect complications and setbacks in everything I do.
Going home was a reminder of how lucky people in the West truly are. Even though Americans are falling left and right on to hard times, there is so much more opportunity for growth and education then there is here. Seeing how elementary school children are cared for and nurtured in our school system -- thanks largely to the teachers who actually care about what they are doing -- makes me want to work even harder to make a difference here. Maybe the older generations are hopeless, but the children aren't. Reeducation is often spoken in a negative light, synonymous with brainwashing even. But this is different. This is showing children that they don't have to grow up with the same backwards thinking as their parents This is grassroots social change at its finest.
I have never stayed up this late/woken up this early here in Uganda. Such a contrast. Probably the only time I will actually feel true quiet here. The moon is full, bright enough to write from. Although I do miss my home and the ones I love, I feel somehow rejuvenated in coming back. Recharged. Even if most of the sense of adventure is gone, I think that I am more focused, repurposed. I know the frustrations ahead of me and now expect complications and setbacks in everything I do.
Going home was a reminder of how lucky people in the West truly are. Even though Americans are falling left and right on to hard times, there is so much more opportunity for growth and education then there is here. Seeing how elementary school children are cared for and nurtured in our school system -- thanks largely to the teachers who actually care about what they are doing -- makes me want to work even harder to make a difference here. Maybe the older generations are hopeless, but the children aren't. Reeducation is often spoken in a negative light, synonymous with brainwashing even. But this is different. This is showing children that they don't have to grow up with the same backwards thinking as their parents This is grassroots social change at its finest.
Friday, December 3, 2010
A Trek in Three Parts (The Conclusion)
Part III
(Originally written on 11/23)
Mt. Sabinyo: 3669 m above sea level, 1300 m from base to peak, 3 separate peaks each providing different technical challenges, 14 km worth of trail from base to peak and back. This was the volcano that Courtney and I chose to climb. We were given three options: the first being the tallest volcano, the second being the smallest, and the third, Sabinyo, being the most difficult. If we were going to scale a volcano, we were going to do it right.
The forest leading up to the base of the volcano changed quickly as we approached Sabinyo. First, it was typical secondary forest with scattered clearings allowing the challenges ahead to be in clear view. Next came a spectacular bamboo forest towering above us. The array of thin bamboo stalks gave the forest an incredible amount of depth. It felt like we were hiking through Eastern Asia rather than Western Uganda. We crossed a river several times over wooden bridges until the bamboo gave way to secondary forest again. Within two hours, we were at the 'official' start of the volcano.
The terrain told us immediately that we have arrived, no long a slightly rising slope, but a more than 45 degree incline. The ground was wet from the constant mist that cloaked the mountain side, so the man-made steps consisting of stripped tree limbs that had been nailed into the soil almost did more harm than good because of how slippery they had become. We wound our way up the volcano, mostly on the makeshift stairs, but we also had to cross ladders from time to time that were more horizontal than vertical. Crossing them required some support from the surrounding trees. Soon, we were deep into the tropical part of the volcano. The moss that clung to trees in this forest, however, was gray rather than the bright green we saw in Bwindi Impenetrable. It felt like we had stumbled into Sleepy Hollow when the mist passed through the most covered trees, but rather than creepy, the sight was more comforting when we paused from time to time to rest and take in the surroundings.
The first peak seemed to be the most difficult to summit. There were a few points where I started to question if I could make it to the top of the first peak, or if I DID make it, would I want to continue on to the next two. As we rounded the top of the first though, there was no doubt in my mind that I needed to go all the way. The view from the first peak showed us parts of Rwanda and the Congo, but the most impressive view was that of the next two peaks that rose high above us.
The path between peaks one and two rested on a ridge that couldn't have been much more than 6' wide with sheer drop-offs on either side. Surprisingly, the path wasn't frightening at all, and the view down into the valleys bellow was breathtaking -- not that I had that much breath to take at that point.
We made it to peak fairly easily and took a breather. Once this I started to notice was how different the surrounding had become. Of course, the gray mist surrounding us remained constant, but all of the vegetation seemed much softer, yet desert-like compared to what we had hiked through on the way up to peak one. It felt as if we were standing on layers of lush moss rather than solid ground. Suddenly, all I wanted to do was reach the final peak, as if my whole being had just reached the same conclusion in that instant and that there was no other possible direction my life could go from there.
Peak three proved to be a difficult one to reach. The trail started out much like the first two peak trials did, but soon we reached a long series of ladders. Much like the stairs, the ladders were made of pieces of limbs that had been striped of their bark over time. The constant mist also made them incredibly slippery. Some parts of the ladders were completely vertical. Als that point, I made the mistake of looking down behind me into the gray oblivion below, but I couldn't let fear get in my way, not when I'd already come that far. Eventually, the ladders cam to an end, and it was only a short hike from there to our goal.
To be honest, the summit wasn't what I expected. It wasn't a crater by any means, and we were completely surrounded by clouds and mist. However, it felt like we had found some piece of uncharted land on a distant planet. The ground was made up of large volcanic boulders covered in soft green moss, and there were small palm-like trees all around us. It seemed that the hill we were on simply disappeared into the gray. As we sat on the peak, soaking in our accomplishment, the mist gave way to show a spectacular view of Rwanda to the left, the Congo to the right, and another peak of the volcano further ahead of us deeper into the Congo. The spot where we were sitting was actually the exact point where Rwanda, the Congo, and Uganda met.
After waiting a while to see if the clouds would open again only to get rained on, we decided to head back down Mt. Sabinyo. I have to say, even though it was much easier going down hill, the ladders were infinitely harder going back. The fresh rain on the bare wood didn't help either. After getting past the first peak again, we were on the home stretch when Courtney slipped on one of the rocks we were climbing down and twisted her ankle. Surprisingly, she showed amazing will power and made it the entire tow hours we had left to hike back to our transport, albeit at a bit slower pace.
When we got back to our hotel, we set out on a new quest -- a quest to find some travellers to split a private hire ride back to Kampala, neither of us wanting to get back on a Ugandan bus anytime soon. Luckily, we found a couple from London who, after hearing our horror story of the ride out, reconsidered getting on a bus themselves and opted to come along with us. Now at least I can sleep soundly tonight and not have to worry about whether or not I will ever make it home alive and be able to tell this story to anyone...
(Originally written on 11/23)
Mt. Sabinyo: 3669 m above sea level, 1300 m from base to peak, 3 separate peaks each providing different technical challenges, 14 km worth of trail from base to peak and back. This was the volcano that Courtney and I chose to climb. We were given three options: the first being the tallest volcano, the second being the smallest, and the third, Sabinyo, being the most difficult. If we were going to scale a volcano, we were going to do it right.
The forest leading up to the base of the volcano changed quickly as we approached Sabinyo. First, it was typical secondary forest with scattered clearings allowing the challenges ahead to be in clear view. Next came a spectacular bamboo forest towering above us. The array of thin bamboo stalks gave the forest an incredible amount of depth. It felt like we were hiking through Eastern Asia rather than Western Uganda. We crossed a river several times over wooden bridges until the bamboo gave way to secondary forest again. Within two hours, we were at the 'official' start of the volcano.
The terrain told us immediately that we have arrived, no long a slightly rising slope, but a more than 45 degree incline. The ground was wet from the constant mist that cloaked the mountain side, so the man-made steps consisting of stripped tree limbs that had been nailed into the soil almost did more harm than good because of how slippery they had become. We wound our way up the volcano, mostly on the makeshift stairs, but we also had to cross ladders from time to time that were more horizontal than vertical. Crossing them required some support from the surrounding trees. Soon, we were deep into the tropical part of the volcano. The moss that clung to trees in this forest, however, was gray rather than the bright green we saw in Bwindi Impenetrable. It felt like we had stumbled into Sleepy Hollow when the mist passed through the most covered trees, but rather than creepy, the sight was more comforting when we paused from time to time to rest and take in the surroundings.
The first peak seemed to be the most difficult to summit. There were a few points where I started to question if I could make it to the top of the first peak, or if I DID make it, would I want to continue on to the next two. As we rounded the top of the first though, there was no doubt in my mind that I needed to go all the way. The view from the first peak showed us parts of Rwanda and the Congo, but the most impressive view was that of the next two peaks that rose high above us.
The path between peaks one and two rested on a ridge that couldn't have been much more than 6' wide with sheer drop-offs on either side. Surprisingly, the path wasn't frightening at all, and the view down into the valleys bellow was breathtaking -- not that I had that much breath to take at that point.
We made it to peak fairly easily and took a breather. Once this I started to notice was how different the surrounding had become. Of course, the gray mist surrounding us remained constant, but all of the vegetation seemed much softer, yet desert-like compared to what we had hiked through on the way up to peak one. It felt as if we were standing on layers of lush moss rather than solid ground. Suddenly, all I wanted to do was reach the final peak, as if my whole being had just reached the same conclusion in that instant and that there was no other possible direction my life could go from there.
Peak three proved to be a difficult one to reach. The trail started out much like the first two peak trials did, but soon we reached a long series of ladders. Much like the stairs, the ladders were made of pieces of limbs that had been striped of their bark over time. The constant mist also made them incredibly slippery. Some parts of the ladders were completely vertical. Als that point, I made the mistake of looking down behind me into the gray oblivion below, but I couldn't let fear get in my way, not when I'd already come that far. Eventually, the ladders cam to an end, and it was only a short hike from there to our goal.
To be honest, the summit wasn't what I expected. It wasn't a crater by any means, and we were completely surrounded by clouds and mist. However, it felt like we had found some piece of uncharted land on a distant planet. The ground was made up of large volcanic boulders covered in soft green moss, and there were small palm-like trees all around us. It seemed that the hill we were on simply disappeared into the gray. As we sat on the peak, soaking in our accomplishment, the mist gave way to show a spectacular view of Rwanda to the left, the Congo to the right, and another peak of the volcano further ahead of us deeper into the Congo. The spot where we were sitting was actually the exact point where Rwanda, the Congo, and Uganda met.
After waiting a while to see if the clouds would open again only to get rained on, we decided to head back down Mt. Sabinyo. I have to say, even though it was much easier going down hill, the ladders were infinitely harder going back. The fresh rain on the bare wood didn't help either. After getting past the first peak again, we were on the home stretch when Courtney slipped on one of the rocks we were climbing down and twisted her ankle. Surprisingly, she showed amazing will power and made it the entire tow hours we had left to hike back to our transport, albeit at a bit slower pace.
When we got back to our hotel, we set out on a new quest -- a quest to find some travellers to split a private hire ride back to Kampala, neither of us wanting to get back on a Ugandan bus anytime soon. Luckily, we found a couple from London who, after hearing our horror story of the ride out, reconsidered getting on a bus themselves and opted to come along with us. Now at least I can sleep soundly tonight and not have to worry about whether or not I will ever make it home alive and be able to tell this story to anyone...
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
A Trek in Three Parts (Cont.)
Part II
(Origially written on 11/22)
Yesterday was our rest day in Nkuringo. It would have been a great day, perfect weather in a perfect setting, but I was suffering from a bit of dehydration. By the end of the day and after many cups of tea I was feeling much better, and I was able to enjoy sitting around the bonfire. One thing Courtney and I realized was how much we missed being with Westerners our own age, so it was refreshing to sit and talk with our fellow travelers. Also, I got to play a little guitar for the first time since our training in Burkley, CA back in August!
The majority of the hiking today was down hill and on dirt roads, but we traveled over 25 km by foot. The first part of the trek led us down from Nkuringo through mountain farmlands. The fact that people are able to cultivate the practically vertical mountain sides is beyond me, let alone the fact that their families live on the very same slopes. The different types of crops produce different shades of green making the mountains seem to be draped in patchwork quilts. Although this might sound to not be as nice to look at when compared to the rainforest from the day before, the fact is, it may have been even more stunning. Every corner we rounded, we came face to face with even more majestic mountain tops and valleys.
Eventually, the mountains gave way to a great view of Lake Mutanda, the next part of our day's journey. Once on the shore, we got into a dugout canoe and set off. Our trip across the lake was supposed to take three hours, but we were able to make it in two and a quarter (largely thanks to my help paddling, I might add... *Brushes knuckles on his shirt*). The lake was pristine and, for the most part, pretty calm, but every time Evarist and our canoe guy, Moses, switched sides or when Evarist stopped to ladle some water from the bottom of the canoe, Courtney and I both felt that we were going to tip over, but Evarist and Moses hardly seemed to notice.
Once on solid ground again, we made our way to Kisoro through small towns and banana plantations. Kisoro itself seemed like a pretty normal town by Ugandan standards and boasted a brand new tarmacked road that lead straight the to border of the DRC (Congo). One unmistakable quality of the town, however, were the three volcanoes that loomed overhead, much bigger now than they had seemed from Nkuringo. There they stood, undaunted, almost taunting us about the day that lay ahead...
(Origially written on 11/22)
Yesterday was our rest day in Nkuringo. It would have been a great day, perfect weather in a perfect setting, but I was suffering from a bit of dehydration. By the end of the day and after many cups of tea I was feeling much better, and I was able to enjoy sitting around the bonfire. One thing Courtney and I realized was how much we missed being with Westerners our own age, so it was refreshing to sit and talk with our fellow travelers. Also, I got to play a little guitar for the first time since our training in Burkley, CA back in August!
The majority of the hiking today was down hill and on dirt roads, but we traveled over 25 km by foot. The first part of the trek led us down from Nkuringo through mountain farmlands. The fact that people are able to cultivate the practically vertical mountain sides is beyond me, let alone the fact that their families live on the very same slopes. The different types of crops produce different shades of green making the mountains seem to be draped in patchwork quilts. Although this might sound to not be as nice to look at when compared to the rainforest from the day before, the fact is, it may have been even more stunning. Every corner we rounded, we came face to face with even more majestic mountain tops and valleys.
Eventually, the mountains gave way to a great view of Lake Mutanda, the next part of our day's journey. Once on the shore, we got into a dugout canoe and set off. Our trip across the lake was supposed to take three hours, but we were able to make it in two and a quarter (largely thanks to my help paddling, I might add... *Brushes knuckles on his shirt*). The lake was pristine and, for the most part, pretty calm, but every time Evarist and our canoe guy, Moses, switched sides or when Evarist stopped to ladle some water from the bottom of the canoe, Courtney and I both felt that we were going to tip over, but Evarist and Moses hardly seemed to notice.
Once on solid ground again, we made our way to Kisoro through small towns and banana plantations. Kisoro itself seemed like a pretty normal town by Ugandan standards and boasted a brand new tarmacked road that lead straight the to border of the DRC (Congo). One unmistakable quality of the town, however, were the three volcanoes that loomed overhead, much bigger now than they had seemed from Nkuringo. There they stood, undaunted, almost taunting us about the day that lay ahead...
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