Saturday, 26 February 2022 09:05 pm
Vacation Report: Kenya and Uganda
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deckardcanineI've been back since Monday, but I still get tired in the early evenings, which is one reason I've waited this long to update DW. Mind you, I'm better rested now than I was in Kenya and Uganda. I've never had so little sleep in three weeks before.
If you're interested only in the animals, see my photos here. I'll be talking mostly about other things.
One nice thing about traveling these days is that the tour groups are smaller. Mine consisted of four Americans, three Canadians, a Brit, a Swiss, and a Colombian, in addition to our leader, driver, and cook. It's easy to get to know and remember a dozen people in 16 days. By the end of the journey, we were pretty emotionally attached, with many hugs goodbye and even some sobs from men. I especially intend to maintain contact with a snake owner who instantly became a Downscale fan. (No, we didn't meet any snakes in the wild.)
There wasn't nearly as much hiking as anticipated, so I'm trying to catch up on exercise now. For most of the trip, we spent much of the day riding a truck that had been converted into a bus but was still called a truck, stopping sometimes for washroom breaks, lunches, and grocery or bank runs. We typically got up before dawn and had early breakfasts and late dinners. Most evenings, I turned in immediately after dinner, unless I opted to shower and wait to dry first. This is not to say I was unsociable or unfun; I did hang out for drinks sometimes.
Putting aside the distances, travel in those parts isn't easy. We learned that "African free massage" refers to driving on unpaved roads bumpier than any I've encountered elsewhere, and "African time" indicates the likelihood of severe delays. Twice we had traffic jams that took two hours to clear up, and from the sound of it, we were lucky. Once our driver decided to take a shortcut via a ditch, causing the tall vehicle to tilt about 45 degrees, so we crowded on the high end. That must have been the most alarming moment of the trip for me, because I discovered that when I shout, I sound like my dad watching sports.
My other fears generally amounted to a slow burn. On our first night in tents, we were warned not to go out in the dark if we could help it, because dangerous animals were liable to attack then. Indeed, about 50 cape buffalo passed us, one close enough to jingle a hook on my tent. The hyena call didn't help either.
The Intrepid description made it sound like I'd spend most nights in a tent. Thankfully, most venues offered upgrades for a modest price. I spent a total of four nights in a tent and could have done fewer, but I didn't have enough Ugandan cash once, and when there weren't enough rooms to meet the party's demand, I took one (or, y'know, didn't) for the team.
I don't know how Intrepid expected us to take all their packing suggestions and still have room in our truck lockers. I made do with rather few articles of clothing. One place did my laundry, enabling me not to wear ripe clothes too much. I had brought detergent and string for a clothesline, but between short stays and high chances of rain, I used the former barely and the latter not at all. (Temperatures ranged from slightly cool to hot but not sweltering, BTW.)
Our cook prepared most of our meals, often calling on us to chop vegetables and wash dishes. Lacking a dish towel, we had to shake the water off with a flapping motion, which is about as efficient as making fire with two twigs. They were great meals in both quality and quantity, with accommodations for individual diets, so I rarely felt an urge to snack. At my drowsiest, I skipped dinner (thankfully nothing exotic that time) and still wasn't all that hungry in the morning. The few times I ate at restaurants, I found the food adequate but the service painfully slow.
There were certainly different standards for professionalism. ATMs dispensed grubby old money. Places of business, even important ones like police stations, often resorted to handwritten signs in need of proofreading. Many buildings had other companies' logos on them, because that was the only way they could afford a paint job. A broken-down truck had been left on the side of the road for years. And the less said about washrooms, the better.
That said, I was actually pretty impressed at how much development had gone on in these countries. I could access the Net almost anywhere, and from the looks of it, people didn't consider that a major luxury. The supermarkets were better stocked than my home one had been lately. All sorts of industrialized amenities were available, just not consistently. Even the tenants of little corrugated metal hovels didn't look like poster children for charities. Poverty is not synonymous with desperation.
My photos don't really capture the farm animals we commonly saw in towns. Goats outnumbered dogs. Chickens and maybe pigs outnumbered cats. I think I saw turkeys but didn't know right away because of their small size.
Locals usually acted happy to see our truck, with even children waving at us. Some kids asked us for pens, apparently a sign of genius to their minds, but Intrepid advised that they would fight if there weren't enough pens to go around. We encountered more aggressive vendors than beggars, and the only likely thieves were guys at the border offering to exchange one type of schilling for the other. (I suppose I'd have been more likely to get robbed if I'd wandered alone in Nairobi.)
Most Kenyans and Ugandans knew a passable amount of English; the rest could communicate through them. Unfortunately, their accents can be difficult for untrained ears, and even unmasked speakers often had to reiterate. When another tourist asked what was making holes in the campgrounds, she heard the answer as "squealers," but I correctly surmised that the speaker meant squirrels. We learned a smattering of Swahili in turn, advancing my perspective on The Lion King.
About the "unmasked" part: They respect COVID-19 precautions about as much as we do, meaning they completely disregard the distancing markers and don't always keep their masks up, even in administrative positions. Still, we had to get tested multiple times.
I'm happy to report that none of us appeared to suffer any major illness or injury, and I for one didn't lose any property involuntarily. My new friend wasn't so lucky: He lost a GoPro in water. Speaking of water, I accidentally stepped in a stream for a moment, so it is possible that I'll come down with symptoms of bilharzia next month.
Concern for this possibility was not my main reason for opting out of white water rafting: I simply didn't want to deal with wet clothes in this context. Others in the group spent that morning shopping in town and walking by the Nile. I alone went horseback riding -- something I wanted to try in New Zealand nine years ago, but it required more than one customer then. These were relatively small horses with an 80-kg maximum capacity, but I don't think they were ill-treated. Mine, Hunter's Gold, largely followed the lead of the guide's horse. I consider it a victory that I kept my balance at all speeds. We found a mewling kitten on the path of our one-hour ride; thankfully, the horses didn't step on it. Hunter's Gold evidently wanted to do his own thing but obeyed. I rewarded him afterward by petting his head and neck.
I did not watch much TV on the trip. While hotels had nice flat screens, they got few channels. Programming was mostly foreign, not just from the U.S.: I recognized a dubbed telenovela. The most bizarre mix of entertainment came when a radio played Rick Ross's uncensored "Same Hoes" in between Christian rock songs.
Christianity is the majority religion of both countries, tho Islamic influence isn't hard to find. Some places had worship chants for hours starting around 3 a.m. At my suggestion, on a Sunday with little to do, four of us attended part of a Catholic mass. We'd been misinformed about the starting time, but that's just as well, because it was long. And a good deal more energetic than the masses I've known elsewhere.
One of us observed that this all-Black church depicted a White Jesus. I guess I'm used to that sort of thing. Me, I noticed that in our entire journey, I saw only two non-Black residents, namely a pair of shopkeepers from South Asia. No wonder every White person was identified as mzungu, "going around."
Possibly the biggest differences between American and African mindsets pertain to superstition. Artisans won't create the likeness of a hyena for fear that they'll hurt themselves. Sitting under a yellow-barked acacia is thought to cause fever, albeit not yellow fever. We saw ads for a circumcision service and even a parade for two pubescent boys about to be circumcised. (I'm not against the practice as long as it's not on girls.)
The most different people we met were on the Masai reservation. They measure their ages in ranges. Men take multiple wives, but women can never have a second husband even after his death, so widows tend to need extra support. They continue to live in traditional buildings, except for indoor plumbing and a modicum of electric lighting. The young men who greeted us invited the male tourists to join their dance, and one got to try his hand at spear throwing and archery. Wish I had, even if I'd bomb at it.
Overall, it was a rewarding experience. You just need a lot of patience for it.
If you're interested only in the animals, see my photos here. I'll be talking mostly about other things.
One nice thing about traveling these days is that the tour groups are smaller. Mine consisted of four Americans, three Canadians, a Brit, a Swiss, and a Colombian, in addition to our leader, driver, and cook. It's easy to get to know and remember a dozen people in 16 days. By the end of the journey, we were pretty emotionally attached, with many hugs goodbye and even some sobs from men. I especially intend to maintain contact with a snake owner who instantly became a Downscale fan. (No, we didn't meet any snakes in the wild.)
There wasn't nearly as much hiking as anticipated, so I'm trying to catch up on exercise now. For most of the trip, we spent much of the day riding a truck that had been converted into a bus but was still called a truck, stopping sometimes for washroom breaks, lunches, and grocery or bank runs. We typically got up before dawn and had early breakfasts and late dinners. Most evenings, I turned in immediately after dinner, unless I opted to shower and wait to dry first. This is not to say I was unsociable or unfun; I did hang out for drinks sometimes.
Putting aside the distances, travel in those parts isn't easy. We learned that "African free massage" refers to driving on unpaved roads bumpier than any I've encountered elsewhere, and "African time" indicates the likelihood of severe delays. Twice we had traffic jams that took two hours to clear up, and from the sound of it, we were lucky. Once our driver decided to take a shortcut via a ditch, causing the tall vehicle to tilt about 45 degrees, so we crowded on the high end. That must have been the most alarming moment of the trip for me, because I discovered that when I shout, I sound like my dad watching sports.
My other fears generally amounted to a slow burn. On our first night in tents, we were warned not to go out in the dark if we could help it, because dangerous animals were liable to attack then. Indeed, about 50 cape buffalo passed us, one close enough to jingle a hook on my tent. The hyena call didn't help either.
The Intrepid description made it sound like I'd spend most nights in a tent. Thankfully, most venues offered upgrades for a modest price. I spent a total of four nights in a tent and could have done fewer, but I didn't have enough Ugandan cash once, and when there weren't enough rooms to meet the party's demand, I took one (or, y'know, didn't) for the team.
I don't know how Intrepid expected us to take all their packing suggestions and still have room in our truck lockers. I made do with rather few articles of clothing. One place did my laundry, enabling me not to wear ripe clothes too much. I had brought detergent and string for a clothesline, but between short stays and high chances of rain, I used the former barely and the latter not at all. (Temperatures ranged from slightly cool to hot but not sweltering, BTW.)
Our cook prepared most of our meals, often calling on us to chop vegetables and wash dishes. Lacking a dish towel, we had to shake the water off with a flapping motion, which is about as efficient as making fire with two twigs. They were great meals in both quality and quantity, with accommodations for individual diets, so I rarely felt an urge to snack. At my drowsiest, I skipped dinner (thankfully nothing exotic that time) and still wasn't all that hungry in the morning. The few times I ate at restaurants, I found the food adequate but the service painfully slow.
There were certainly different standards for professionalism. ATMs dispensed grubby old money. Places of business, even important ones like police stations, often resorted to handwritten signs in need of proofreading. Many buildings had other companies' logos on them, because that was the only way they could afford a paint job. A broken-down truck had been left on the side of the road for years. And the less said about washrooms, the better.
That said, I was actually pretty impressed at how much development had gone on in these countries. I could access the Net almost anywhere, and from the looks of it, people didn't consider that a major luxury. The supermarkets were better stocked than my home one had been lately. All sorts of industrialized amenities were available, just not consistently. Even the tenants of little corrugated metal hovels didn't look like poster children for charities. Poverty is not synonymous with desperation.
My photos don't really capture the farm animals we commonly saw in towns. Goats outnumbered dogs. Chickens and maybe pigs outnumbered cats. I think I saw turkeys but didn't know right away because of their small size.
Locals usually acted happy to see our truck, with even children waving at us. Some kids asked us for pens, apparently a sign of genius to their minds, but Intrepid advised that they would fight if there weren't enough pens to go around. We encountered more aggressive vendors than beggars, and the only likely thieves were guys at the border offering to exchange one type of schilling for the other. (I suppose I'd have been more likely to get robbed if I'd wandered alone in Nairobi.)
Most Kenyans and Ugandans knew a passable amount of English; the rest could communicate through them. Unfortunately, their accents can be difficult for untrained ears, and even unmasked speakers often had to reiterate. When another tourist asked what was making holes in the campgrounds, she heard the answer as "squealers," but I correctly surmised that the speaker meant squirrels. We learned a smattering of Swahili in turn, advancing my perspective on The Lion King.
About the "unmasked" part: They respect COVID-19 precautions about as much as we do, meaning they completely disregard the distancing markers and don't always keep their masks up, even in administrative positions. Still, we had to get tested multiple times.
I'm happy to report that none of us appeared to suffer any major illness or injury, and I for one didn't lose any property involuntarily. My new friend wasn't so lucky: He lost a GoPro in water. Speaking of water, I accidentally stepped in a stream for a moment, so it is possible that I'll come down with symptoms of bilharzia next month.
Concern for this possibility was not my main reason for opting out of white water rafting: I simply didn't want to deal with wet clothes in this context. Others in the group spent that morning shopping in town and walking by the Nile. I alone went horseback riding -- something I wanted to try in New Zealand nine years ago, but it required more than one customer then. These were relatively small horses with an 80-kg maximum capacity, but I don't think they were ill-treated. Mine, Hunter's Gold, largely followed the lead of the guide's horse. I consider it a victory that I kept my balance at all speeds. We found a mewling kitten on the path of our one-hour ride; thankfully, the horses didn't step on it. Hunter's Gold evidently wanted to do his own thing but obeyed. I rewarded him afterward by petting his head and neck.
I did not watch much TV on the trip. While hotels had nice flat screens, they got few channels. Programming was mostly foreign, not just from the U.S.: I recognized a dubbed telenovela. The most bizarre mix of entertainment came when a radio played Rick Ross's uncensored "Same Hoes" in between Christian rock songs.
Christianity is the majority religion of both countries, tho Islamic influence isn't hard to find. Some places had worship chants for hours starting around 3 a.m. At my suggestion, on a Sunday with little to do, four of us attended part of a Catholic mass. We'd been misinformed about the starting time, but that's just as well, because it was long. And a good deal more energetic than the masses I've known elsewhere.
One of us observed that this all-Black church depicted a White Jesus. I guess I'm used to that sort of thing. Me, I noticed that in our entire journey, I saw only two non-Black residents, namely a pair of shopkeepers from South Asia. No wonder every White person was identified as mzungu, "going around."
Possibly the biggest differences between American and African mindsets pertain to superstition. Artisans won't create the likeness of a hyena for fear that they'll hurt themselves. Sitting under a yellow-barked acacia is thought to cause fever, albeit not yellow fever. We saw ads for a circumcision service and even a parade for two pubescent boys about to be circumcised. (I'm not against the practice as long as it's not on girls.)
The most different people we met were on the Masai reservation. They measure their ages in ranges. Men take multiple wives, but women can never have a second husband even after his death, so widows tend to need extra support. They continue to live in traditional buildings, except for indoor plumbing and a modicum of electric lighting. The young men who greeted us invited the male tourists to join their dance, and one got to try his hand at spear throwing and archery. Wish I had, even if I'd bomb at it.
Overall, it was a rewarding experience. You just need a lot of patience for it.