Anyway we were scouting the Falls because we are planning to take the orphans for a school trip. 65 of the older students from the overall student body of roughly 200. Many of them have never left the village. It was challenging dealing with the lawlessness and corruption that was rampant. Everybody and their mother (often literally) wanted us to pay them something to be there. There were three different grass huts that wanted made up "entrance fees" or "guide fees". It was another realization for me how often we take for granted that we have structure, organization, and regulation. Basic principles, I know. These often seem as foreign concepts here. From the office to the pitch. At home, if we want to go somewhere we pay a flat and often reasonable fee; rather than haggle and barter with random men and children with furrowed brows, dark glasses and rusty machetes. I just about had enough of the bullying and manipulation. Eventually we just started ignoring them.
There were also some great highlights other than the falls, which were incredible! There were actually three falls, one of which was roughly 275 feet high! I had an engaging conversation with a Ugandan man about the pros and cons of "Muzungos" (white people) in Uganda. He was a climber, trained by the Italians in the Alps and he apparently put up the 1st climbing routes and rappel stations (including Sipi Falls itself) but it became too demanding to deal with white tourists that he returned to the fields as a farm manager. He still climbs with his friends when he finds the time.
He seemed patriotic, genuine, and optimistic. At the same time he was very upset with his countrymen (the corrupt and the beggars) and blamed more than a little of the problems Africa faces on the West and their misdirected good intentions and thirst for resources. At the end of our conversation I offered to pay for his beer and he kindly refused. He had already payed, he said, and it was doubtful he would have another. We shook hands and parted.
Moments later Therese and I found a beautiful boulder along the road and stopped to play on it. I am a terrible rock climber but I found excitement and success (attributes not necessarily mutual in my rock climbing resume) as we played around for a half hour waiting for a ride back to Mbale.
Eventually after walking a while in the hot sun, we hitched a ride on the back of a dumb truck (a first for both Therese and I). It was economic, we paid 4,000 Ug Shillings (or roughly 2 dollars) for the hour long ride back to town. It was also efficient because it left when we wanted and it didn't make any stops. It also rarely slowed for the numerous pot holes and water bars that plague the roads here. I appreciated the wind to cool us down but by the end I felt as though I had been in a rock tumbler and sand blasted.
The last couple of days have been a little rough. I finally came down with something and it put me out hard! I think it was a bacterial infection in my gut. Probably from eating shit somewhere. A wise man once told me "Never eat shit! Not even a little! Not even your own!" I tried to heed his advise but it is absurdly difficult to avoid in this country! I don't know how I got it. There are so many possibilities it is nauseating, literally.
In the grand scheme of things I actually made out quiet well. I was only sick for about two days in a place where it is not uncommon to be sick for months or years! I didn't even take any real medications other than Tylenol. I am as right as the rain that falls every afternoon here. I'm back to playing soccer with the kids on Friday nights on their nightmarish field. T.I.A. ("This Is Africa").
He seemed patriotic, genuine, and optimistic. At the same time he was very upset with his countrymen (the corrupt and the beggars) and blamed more than a little of the problems Africa faces on the West and their misdirected good intentions and thirst for resources. At the end of our conversation I offered to pay for his beer and he kindly refused. He had already payed, he said, and it was doubtful he would have another. We shook hands and parted.
Moments later Therese and I found a beautiful boulder along the road and stopped to play on it. I am a terrible rock climber but I found excitement and success (attributes not necessarily mutual in my rock climbing resume) as we played around for a half hour waiting for a ride back to Mbale.
Eventually after walking a while in the hot sun, we hitched a ride on the back of a dumb truck (a first for both Therese and I). It was economic, we paid 4,000 Ug Shillings (or roughly 2 dollars) for the hour long ride back to town. It was also efficient because it left when we wanted and it didn't make any stops. It also rarely slowed for the numerous pot holes and water bars that plague the roads here. I appreciated the wind to cool us down but by the end I felt as though I had been in a rock tumbler and sand blasted.
The last couple of days have been a little rough. I finally came down with something and it put me out hard! I think it was a bacterial infection in my gut. Probably from eating shit somewhere. A wise man once told me "Never eat shit! Not even a little! Not even your own!" I tried to heed his advise but it is absurdly difficult to avoid in this country! I don't know how I got it. There are so many possibilities it is nauseating, literally.
In the grand scheme of things I actually made out quiet well. I was only sick for about two days in a place where it is not uncommon to be sick for months or years! I didn't even take any real medications other than Tylenol. I am as right as the rain that falls every afternoon here. I'm back to playing soccer with the kids on Friday nights on their nightmarish field. T.I.A. ("This Is Africa").
OMG, TIA, you made me laugh and giggle out loud. I also got your e-mail. I love you both and miss you. I know you are having the time of your lives. xo, Mom
ReplyDeleteoffered to buy the beer. classic deluca :)_
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