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Quad-Biking in Jinja: The Aftermath

I smell. My clothes are covered in dirt. I haven’t shaved in over a month and my beard is caked in grime and dust. Life in Africa is a dirty business. Tony, Wendy, Michael and I, have been on tour with Absolute Africa for the past 25 days, the last week of which we spent on safari in the Masai Mara in Kenya and the Serengeti in Tanzania.

In the day we’ve been cruising around in an open top 4×4, the boys hanging out the roof with cameras and binoculars, the humid wind whipping past our faces, while the girls sit politely below talking about whatever it is that girls talk about. At night we’ve been camping miles from civilization, our tents pitched deep inside the park, a few thin sheets of canvas the only thing protecting us from the creatures lurking in the darkness.

Elephants, lions, rhinos and scores of other animals roam freely over hundreds of square kilometres of open terrain, our guide warning us severely against leaving our tents in the night in case we encounter a hungry predator lurking amongst the tents – this message compounded by the scuffling and grunting we heard outside while curled up warm in our sleeping bags.

African Buffalo

We’ve just arrived in Arusha, Tanzania this morning and it’s here that Tony, Wendy, Michael and I leave our overland tour with Absolute Africa and resume independent travel for the remainder of the African leg of this trip. Our tour with Absolute was terrific, our yellow monster of a truck handled the jarring, potholed roads with ease – although not always to the comfort of its passengers clinging on for dear life inside. The food was delicious; curries, meat and stews – a far cry from the baked beans on toast I was expecting and the guides were knowledgeable, helpful and everything else you would want in a guide. The other people on the truck were great and we spent many happy days and drunken nights exploring and enjoying the continent together. It was with some definite sadness we said our farewells this morning, although not quite ready to say goodbye for good we’ve arranged to rendezvous with the group a few more times over the next few weeks.

It’s been fascinating meeting the people of Africa. I think one of my fellow travellers summed it up best when she said “It’s arrogant to come here and pity their way of life”, which made me realize that’s exactly what I was expecting to do. It’s true that the Africans largely live a basic existence – there are still many tribes that live in their traditional ways and in the cities the public infrastructure definitely isn’t at the same standard as us in the West but this doesn’t seem to affect their quality of life much. All the people I have talked with are friendly, happy and seem optimistic about their future.

In Kenya we visited with a Masai tribe who still live in the same way they have for centuries, their homes are small, dark primitive huts made from sticks, animal dung and reeds. The huts take the whole tribe two months to build and last six years in the harsh desert sun, the dung and reeds fusing together to make a basic waterproof ceiling for the wet season.

Masai Warriors

A Masai chief can take up to seven wives, (which they normally do), and single families swell to up to 70 people and fill an entire settlement which is surrounded by a rudimentary fence to keep lions and hyenas from attacking them and their livestock at night. To find a bride, a young Masai warrior must leave his tribe and walk huge distances to other communities in search of a suitable girl. Upon finding a potential wife the young warrior must offer her family a dowry, traditionally a lion which he has killed, but in modern times with the rise of tourism the government have outlawed the hunting of big cats so the Masai trade goats or cows instead. If I was a young Masai warrior I think I’d be quite pleased with this development, I’m not sure I would fare so well against an angry lion with nothing but a spear to protect me.

Interestingly, Masai children don’t belong to their parents, but to the community as a whole so everyone in the tribe actively participates in raising the young. To enter adulthood the Masai must complete a rite of passage, for the young men this involves being held down and circumcised by the elders of the group, if they move or make a single sound during the ceremony they are deemed unworthy of being Masai men and are cast from the tribe. As delightful as this sounds, I have to confess to being pretty pleased not to be a Masai myself.

Lioness With Her Kill

Tomorrow night we will be leaving Arusha en route to the island of Zanzibar via Dar Es Salaam. Zanzibar is renowned for some of the best scuba diving in the world, so I see a lot days underwater ahead and mojitos on the beach front in the evening.

Anyway, I’m back in the city now so I have no excuse for being so gross. Time to find a shower and put on some clean clothes.

Mark
http://marksteele.co.nz

Mark and Mike At The Ugandan Equator

I’ve never felt so white in all my life. My friends Tony and Wendy, and my cousin Michael and I have now spent roughly a fortnight on African soil and its impossible not to notice how severely our pale flesh stands out amongst the sea of black faces, I feel like a neon sign glowing in the night.

We’ve already adjusted to ‘Africa time’, the ambling pace of life here. Never order food if you have less than an hour to spare and don’t expect your taxi driver to be putting the pedal to the metal any time soon – it’s a little annoying at first but soon enough the warm, humid hours seem to expand and a lethargic relaxation kicks in.

The four of us spent a few nights in the Kenyan capital city Nairobi before venturing to Entebbe, Uganda to join a tour with the company Absolute Africa for three weeks. Nairobi is charmingly nicknamed ‘Nai-robbery’ after the huge amount of street crime that goes on there. After reading dire warnings in the Lonely Planet which were then compounded by the unfortunate tales shared by hostel staff, we nervously made our way in to the city, eyeing suspiciously every thing that moved en route.

Perhaps threatened by our fearsome New Zealand strength, apart from one solitary chap trying to flog a budget safari, we were left completely alone as we hunted the streets for the Ugandan embassy. After a confusing hour looking for the government building we finally found it down an unmarked alley and up a winding staircase where we handed over fifty American dollars, collected our visas and were on our way.

Chimpanzee Grooming

That night, we made our way to the bus station and jumped on a rickety old bus, full of fat African women in bright colours eating and talking at full volume. Within minutes of departing the bus decided to die, prompting some emergency roadside repair by the driver. Finally, after an hour sitting in the darkness the bus rumbled back in to life and we started our bone shuddering overnight bus ride over the horrendous potholed dirt roads to Uganda.

We were thrown violently thrown side to side, up and down in our seats, the air seemingly as often dust as it was oxygen. Tired, grumpy and with a film of sweat and dirt caking my face, it was with great pleasure that after six torturous hours, the road thankfully smoothed out and the heat dropped to a non-sweat inducing temperature allowing us all to get some much needed shut-eye. Having donned my ever fashionable eye mask, bright yellow ear plugs and inflatable neck pillow I drifted off in to an uncomfortable sleep only to be roused sometime after by an angry militant sporting a Russian machine gun. After kicking us all of the bus, bleary eyed at 4 o’clock in the morning, we were given not one, but two rough friskings on the road side by the Ugandan police, before being allowed to return to our seats and resume our restless slumber.

After nearly sixteen hours on the bus we arrived the following morning in the Ugandan capital Kampala. After waiting an age for them to release our packs from customs we jumped on a crammed mini-van which then took us another couple of hours to the small town of Entebbe, where we met our huge yellow Absolute truck and thankfully completed our current adventures on public transport.

The following morning, after an evening of getting acquainted with out fellow passengers (coincidentally almost half of which are Kiwi) we took a two hour boat ride across the choppy Lake Victoria to visit a chimpanzee sanctuary. Encompassing an entire island, the refuge now provides a safe home for sick or at risk chimps which are rescued from the jungle and brought here before eventually being re-released back in to the wild. Chimps, being 99% similar to humans in DNA are susceptible to many human diseases so the remote location of the island protects the chimpanzees from our illnesses, but also from people who are out to kidnap them for zoos and private collections around the world.

Baby Gorilla

The chimps are fed by sanctuary staff five times a day, one of these feedings we were fortunate to be able to watch. We were led to a wooden viewing platform perched high above a wire fence which surrounds the dense jungle. With loud squeals and much stomping the chimps made their way down to feast on the fruits lobbed towards them by their keepers, squabbling and fighting which each other the whole time. From their physical appearance to their behaviour and interactions with each another it’s easy to see the genetic similarities with us homo sapiens – it’s kind of creepy to be honest.

It’s now been a few weeks since we met our big yellow truck and we’ve since driven countless bumpy miles, visited three African countries, seen chimpanzees, monkeys, gorillas, lions and scores of tiny black children in ragged clothes bouncing up and down, waving excitedly at us perched high up in our vehicle as we thunder through their small villages.

Christianity undoubtedly has a very strong foothold here, people merrily walk around toting Bibles in hats proclaiming their love for the Lord and vehicles everywhere are sign-written sporting Bible verses and slogans like “No Jesus, No Life – Know Jesus, Know Life”. Preachers enthusiastically evangelise on public buses, working themselves in to a frenzy of excitement, their arms flailing and their voice booming with the power of the Lord – much to the mirth of my heathen self.

Absolute Africa Crew

We spent a few nights in Ruhengeri, a small Rwandan town, which is evidently a little off the usual tourist track – both adults and children alike stared openly at our alien pink skin as we wandered around buying groceries. I waved at one little girl on the street side which sent her scurrying frightfully to hide behind her mother, one cautious eye peeping out at me from behind her protectors leg.

The highlight of the trip thus far was easily the visit to the Volcanos National Park in Rwanda. After hiking through the dense forest with our trousers fashionably tucked in to our socks to protect us from the vicious fire ants, we visited a family of 27 gorillas living wild on the side of a volcano. I was expecting to view the primates from afar, but we soon found ourselves right in the middle of them all.

The gorilla family was composed of mainly adolescent and adult gorillas plus two babies and four super size Silverback gorillas, all of which seemed completely unperturbed by our presence. Standing off to the side of a narrow path in the muggy forest, we watched in awe as the gorillas climbed trees and then stormed past us in a cacophony of screams and chest beating. Once, with me at the rear of our group, we were following the gorillas up a narrow path through the heavy growth when I turned slightly and out of the corner of my eye caught a glimpse of something black behind me. I turned around to find just a metre behind me a quarter-ton Silverback idly watching me amble up the path.

Gorilla

Our guide had reassuringly warned us earlier on that running from a gorilla will only cause it to chase and beat you, so with my heart suddenly beating at a thousand beats a second I tried to slide slowly out of the way, my foot creeping back inch by inch. Suddenly the monstrous beast howled and charged forward sending me careening backward in to a bush as he crashed his way up the path, leaving the ground shaking in his wake.

Having left Rwanda we’re now camped out in Jinja, a small Ugandan town where I’m presently sitting with my laptop overlooking the river Nile, sipping a cold beer. We’re less than two weeks through the nine we are spending on the continent, so there is still plenty of time ahead. We part ways with the tour group in a little over a week, but not before doing two safaris through both the Serengeti and Masai Mara where we’ve already been warned about leaving our tents during the night in case we encounter Hippos or Elephants while doing our business.

After resuming independent travel, the four of us are going to slow the pace right down and spend a week or two diving off the coast of Tanzania and Zanzibar before continuing our journey south.

Stay tuned.

Mark
http://marksteele.co.nz