Tharcisse Renzaho

Wednesday (the 16th of June... I'm a little behind!) was just a great day all around and led into a bubbly and beautiful Thursday morning. We had all told our placements we were taking the day off, so when the morning rolled around we slept in, gathered our passports and headed to the ICTR building to watch a trial.

The International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda is held here in Arusha. This is where all the trials for people who were found to have been involved with the genocide are held. The trials are all open for public viewing; all you need to present is your passport!

The ICTR is a little village in itself. Not entirely sure what all goes on in there, but there are a lot of interns around Arusha that are there working.

We found one appeal that was underway, each grabbed a set of headphones and took a seat. The appeal was for a man named Tharcisse Renzaho.

Tharcisse was a Rwandan governor who set up roadblocks, supplied the genocidaires with rifles, fired government officials who opposed the genocide and ordered the murder of the journalist Andre Kameya. He was sentenced to life in prison in June 2009 and we saw the appeal to this decision. Throughout the appeal they mentioned how he had instigated the invasion of Hôtel Des Milles Collines; where we had stayed not even a week prior. To hear the names of places is one thing, but to have been there, know what they're talking about and be able to create the proper mental image is another completely. I really wonder how someone is able to defend a man like him, and how he has already been acquitted of several of his crimes. I guess you do what you gotta do to get the job done.

After the trial, we had lunch at our favorite café and Cassie and I booked our tickets to Zanzibar! We were scheduled to leave the next Thursday.

Back To Business.. Or Just Work

The Final Catchup! Been a busy week, here's what I've been up to!

When we got home on Friday, the house was definitely a little busier. Eight new volunteers had arrived, and settled in, while we were away. It's strange to come 'home' to find brand new faces that are starting to fall into 'your' routines. We were hoping to be perceived as these mystical and oh-so-worldly creatures, but we fooled no one. Delirious from lack of sleep and overall overwhelm-ment of the trip, we must've given a great first impression before we crashed at 8pm.

Saturday was spent at Kigongoni.. A nice way to ease back into life in Arusha; lounging by the pool all day, rehydrating ourselves (try this - beer and sprite, surprisingly delicious). Didn't even burn! Must really be getting the hang of this African sun thing, that or the switch to 45 spf did the trick. Isaac made us a great dinner (we're starting to get more fruit and veggies now!!!) and once again we were the first to bed!

Sunday the gang was heading off for the waterfall hike, and three out of the five of us old timers stayed behind. Meghan, Andrea and I had a great sleep-in and took our time heading downstairs to prepare our breakfast. Good thinking the day before had us pre buy a ton of fruit, so for breakfast was the best fruit salad you'd have ever seen, along with the mandatory and always delicious banana pancakes. They will never get old. After breakfast we strolled down to the Maasai Market to do a little souvenir shopping. I got my aunties their little gifties and bought myself a few paintings. I even had a painting specially done for me, which I picked up on Monday. I am just sooo domestic. After the market we had a few hours to kill; guacamole seemed like the best choice. We walked to the nearby fruit/veggie market and got all the ingredients and enough veggies to make a superb veggie tray. Aside from the pancakes, the day had almost no significant carbs! That was a first for sure. After dinner was all cleaned up, Cassie and I made banana chocolate chip small cake-ies (muffins).

Monday we went to work. It was weird having to go back after taking so much time off. I took one of the new volunteers to Camp Moses with me, as she needed to do her orientation to LOHADA (the 'head office' ... really just mama's desk... is at Camp Moses) before starting work at Camp Joshua. We walked in and Teacher Juliet took me by surprise, asking me to give the orientation.. This was all fine, and I just explained the background of the organization and what their hopes and ambitions are, etc etc. I gave her some information to look over and went to find my little guys. I'd missed Bryson and Joseph!! After a good little catch up (as much as you can with 2 year old Swahili speaking boys), I went back to check on the girl I'd left in the office. We chit chatted a bit until a group of 7 or 8 people came into the office; led by a local but the rest were caucasians. 10 minutes or so after the had arrived, Juliet led them back to my part of the office and said "Oh, this is our Project Co-ordinator, Lindsey!"... this was definitely news to me. But a promotion none the less! Then she went on to say "have a seat, she'll do your orientation". Sweet. We toured around and I did the best I could for this group of Americans. They'd be working with LOHADA for a month or so, splitting time between Moses and Joshua.

Later in the afternoon I went downtown to meet up with Cassie and go to the market to pick up my painting. We had a much needed cool down at Africafe and then headed home. Needless to say, yet another early night!

Tuesday Moses, Nelson and I went to pick up the bread for the orphanages, as Mama Wambura was out of town and no one else, other than Nelson, had a vehicle. After a few wrong turns, where I ended up being right in the first place, we made it to SunKist and picked up the weekly donation of 10 loaves. The rest of the day was pretty uneventful, until after dinner. Realizing that we had taken Wednesday off work, we decided to take advantage of the night. We called up our favorite taxi driver and headed to the movies. We saw Shutter Island which is surprisingly good, coming from me who will normally only watch romantic comedies. We made it till 11 o clock or so before calling it a night. Wednesday was going to be our big ICTR girls day!

Milles Colinnes to Kampala Coach

Kampala Coach, the bus company we used to get to and from all of our major destinations, is nothing like Greyhound.

After visiting the memorials outside of Kigali, we headed back into town to check in at our new hotel. We had booked this one before we even left Arusha, knowing the history that this place held... That and it just happened to be one of the only 4 star hotels in Kigali....

The Hôtel Des Milles Colinnes, or Hotel Rwanda, housed something like 600 Tutsi's during the Rwandan genocide. The hotel manager was a Hutu but had a Tutsi wife and wanted to protect not only his family but his people as well. Calling in all of the favors that were owed to him by prominent figures in international society, the manager was able to keep the Milles Colinnes a reasonably safe and invasion free place for the majority of the genocide.

We were not disappointed when we arrived at the hotel! Having carried our backpacks with us all day, we were filthy, sweaty and exhausted tourists. The concierge and receptionist greeted us with enormous smiles and handed us a cool cloth and a glass of fresh fruit juice while we checked in. They chuckled at us when they asked for our luggage and we just sort of shrugged and explained our backpacks were all we had. We embarked up to our rooms and collapsed on the queen sized bed and basked in the air conditioning! We were in heaven. I decided later to venture a bit around town and the other girls went to lay by the pool.

Just before dinner we headed up to our rooms, and flicked on the TV. I think only my mom would know how elated I became when the Grey's Anatomy season finale part 1 was on. Naturally, the four of us crowded onto the bed and didn't even question leaving the room for food until the show was over. For dinner we decided to head to a nearby Chinese restaurant, and devoured all of our food, including the deep friend bananas we got for dessert. We all slept like babies that night.

In the morning we woke up early, not wanting to miss a minute of Milles Colinnes luxury. The continental breakfast did not disappoint with five different types of fresh fruit juice, full fruit spread, eggs benedict, sausage, omelette chef and who knows what else. We gorged ourselves and then threw on our bikinis (not the greatest combination) and headed to the poolside. We soaked up the sun, (and didn't burn!) and grabbed a quick lunch to end our stay.

After we checked out, we went to the final genocide memorial. Because of the road construction it took us a little while to get there, but that only made it seem more worth while and captivating when we arrived. The Kigali Genocide Memorial was the most tourist-y of the memorials. It was complete with audio tour, and was sparse on the human remains. It taught me more than the others, going into depth of the pre, during, and post genocide situations.

The most heartbreaking part was the children's room. It had huge posters of different children who had lost their lives in the genocide, and descriptions of the young people they were.. For example one said "Name: Eric, Favorite Toy: Bicycle, Favorite Food: Chips beef and eggs, Best Friend: His sister, Behavior: Calm, Killed: Gashed with a machete."

After the memorial, we went to the bus stop to wait for our bus back to Arusha. We got there at 530, with our tickets say we were to depart at 6pm. Of course this was pretty far fetched, nothing in Africa is ever on time. We grabbed some fries and beer and sat and waited. Finally at 8pm the bus rolled in and we were off. Kampala Coach was going to be our best friend for what was supposed to be only a 30 hour trip.

We all fell asleep quickly, and didn't wake up much except for the occasional border crossing or dropping-people-off-pee-break. The bus was full the whole way, so you can imagine our surprise when we woke up at 645 the next morning in Kigali and we were the only ones left on the bus. oops. We scrambled off, half asleep, and tried to explain to the guy at the desk that we were trying to get to Arusha. He said oooh Arusha, okay hop on the bus in front of your old one. So we did. Then when the ticket checker came by us, after the bus had left the station, he said nope wrong bus and proceeded to call someone. This someone came and got us off the bus and explained that it was going to Nairobi and wouldn't leave for Arusha from Nairobi until much later. Instead, we needed to wait in Kampala until 1pm for our bus to Arusha. So we did. We found a little cafe in a Mzungu mall and just hung out. We walked around, stopped at a little market, and finally 1230 rolled around. We found our way back to the bus station only to be informed that the bus had no room for us and instead we were going to be put on the 4pm bus. Back to the mall we went. We ate our third meal of the day at the cafe, they loved us, and wandered around feeling sorry for ourselves. The break in Kampala was a nice way to break up the million hours we were supposed to spend on the bus, but a nine hour stop over is a little much. Kampala is a beautiful city though, and I'd love to spend more (planned) time there!

Back on the bus we went, and we were more than lucky to have no stops that lasted more than 20 or so minutes the whole way home!!! After crossing the Uganda/Kenya border, we learned that the Kenyans stop all the busses, bring them to a police station (different from the one we were stopped at on the way to Uganda), and inspected to ensure the busses weren't hijacked. We all got off, had our purses searched, and were on our way. Uneventful, but it instilled a bit of fear in us girls who had bus-jackers as the last thing on our minds until then. The rest of the ride home was extremely bumpy, with us getting air off of our seats on a couple of larger bumps. We were relieved to arrive in Arusha at 11am on Friday. Stinky, hair matted, exhausted and much more worldly than when we had left, we must've been quite the sight to see. The whole trip only took 38 hours, and it didn't even seem that bad! Kampala Coach was our home, but I never hope to see the inside of one again. Needless to say, Cassie and I opted to fly to Zanzibar next weekend...

Nyamata & Ntarama

I've been putting off this post for a while now.. I really don't know how to describe the emotions this day brought about within me, and how to explain what I saw and experienced. Here goes.

We got up early and happily checked out of the hotel, knowing that the night that lay ahead would be much more comfortable. After realizing we really actually had no clue where we were going or how we were getting there, we headed downtown to try and find someone to point us in the right direction. Luckily we found just that!

A man at a travel agency told us the names of the memorials, two out of town and one in town, that we wanted to see. He said we could rent a car for 30,000 Francs, or about $60 USD, or take a taxi for a smaller fraction of the price. We knew we could do it cheaper. After all, sisi ni waafrika. We are African!

Really unconfident in the directions and other information we'd been given, we figured we'd settle it once and for all and went to an internet cafe to research what we should've done the day before. In just 10 or so minutes, we found out that yep we'd been given the right info all along. The people at the cafe were more than helpful and pointed us to the local bus/dala dala station where we could find a bus to take us first to Nyamata, which was about 35 km outside of Kigali. We got the the station and payed 600 Francs (just over a dollar!!!) to go all the way to Nyamata. We were stoked. About an hour or so later we arrived in what we figured was the right town.

Quick (and extremely limited) background to the Rwandan genocide. The Belgians colonized Rwanda and divided the people into two main races, the Hutu's and the Tutsi's. They were divided on physical characteristics, the Hutu's (I think) having lighter skin and smaller noses.. the Tutsi's were darker and had wider noses. This alone I find incomprehensible. When the Belgians were there, they preferred the services of one of the races, I can't remember which. When they left, they left a different one in charge (I think this is close to how it went). All hell broke loose as each race wanted revenge on each other for inequalities suffered over the past years. Genocide was eventually declared on the Tutsi's, who were dubbed cockroaches by the Hutu's.

The strangest part (or what I found strange at least..maybe not so much strange as intriguing) of Kigali was the fact that no one really seemed to know what we were talking about when we asked where the memorial's were. I'm still unsure of whether this should be accredited to the language barrier or the fact that the genocide is not talked about openly, and that the memorials were not put in place for the benefit of the locals. I'm thinking it's a mixture of both.

We were told to walk about five minutes down the highway and we'd find what we were looking for. Sure enough, we came across a weathered sign pointing the way to the church that had been turned into a memorial. Nothing could have prepared me for what I experienced next.

We up to the church and a local guide approached us and told us he would give us a tour. The second you walk into the church you are overwhelmed with the sight and don't know where to look first. Laid out on the pews were the bloody clothes of the 10,000 people who had been viciously murdered there. This was not a big building by any means, and I am still flabergasted and a little unsure of how exactly 10,000 people fit inside. We walked to the front of the church and were asked to observe the blood stains that still remain on the ceilings and walls. The door to the church had a gaping hole where a grenade had been thrown and bullet holes littered every available space on the floors, ceilings and walls.

We walked to the back of the church where on tarps lay the skulls and other bones of several hundred people. The guide explained that in this spot, children were thrown against the wall to be killed, and if not killed on impact were used to test the sharpness of the machetes. The more swings it took for the head to become severed, the duller the machete was said to be. I still don't know how I can even type words like these. How this actually happened and wasn't just some crude fable is beyond me, and I still haven't come to terms with what I saw.

Next, we were invited downstairs where some of the possessions of the victims had been preserved, along with more skulls. There was a single coffin which held one young woman who had had a stick shoved through her vagina and pushed as far up as it would go. Her coffin, we were told, represented the atrocious and cruel ways so many lost their lives.

We went outside and stood over two mass graves. They held the bones of over 45,000 people. I stepped down the first flight of stairs and attempted to enter the room with the skulls, but couldn't manage. I observed from the landing for a few minutes before I just found it to be too much. That many bones in one place is the most indescribable sight. I really don't know where to begin. What I have the most difficulty coming to terms with is the way two races who had lived in harmony for so long simply turned against each other. Hutu's and Tutsi's, neighbors and friends, suddenly mortal enemies. Doing anything to eliminate the other.

We were brought to two individual graves, one was of a nun who had tried to seek help for those who found refuge at the church. We stood in silence for a few minutes before signing the guestbook and leaving our humble donations and heading back down the dirt road. No one said much as we made our way back to the bus stop.

Emotional charged already, we were not in the mood to argue and have difficulties finding our way 5km or so up the road to the second memorial, Ntarama. No one seemed to know what we were talking about, we were flustered with the language barrier and we just didn't know what to do. I felt like a complete fool, sauntering into this country and expecting these people to understand our English. When we figured we had drawn enough attention to ourselves and were extremely unsuccessful in finding a way to Ntarama we just started walking up the road. Soon enough some bikes (yes, pedal bicycles) pulled up beside us and said they would take us to Ntarama for only 500 Francs. We agreed and all hopped on our own bike. Not only were we a little extra chubby from all the chapati we've been eating, but we also had all of our backpacks with us as we were in-between hotels. These little biker men were troopers and huffed it all the way up the hill and to the memorial. We were lucky to have found them as the memorial was waaaay out of the way and I really don't think we would have found it on our own.

When we got there, we saw a lot of the same mzungu's we had seen at the first memorial. All of them were there in their private cars. I have to admit I felt a little smug about the fact we did it cheaper and more 'local-ish'. You have to admit, it is kind of impressive.

These memorial was very similar to the first one we went to. Again, the church was presented in the same way, with the clothes and bones right in front of us. Seeing it for the second time didn't make it any easier. 5,000 people were murdered in this church.

Out back we were taken to a building that had previously been used as a Sunday School. The lady led us to the back and said "See the stain on the wall? That's from the babies that were thrown against it and killed."

We went into a hut behind the school and were told it used to be a kitchen. The bones of the people who were burned in it were still on the floor.

I don't know how, after all of this, we hopped back on the bicycles and went back into town. How is it right that we could just leave all of that behind? I felt like there is so much more I needed to do, needed to see, but really there wasn't. Something that traumatic doesn't seem like it should be able to just be walked away from. How were we expected to continue on with our day after walking through the death site of hundreds of thousands of people? Somehow we did.

We got on the bicycles.

Then on a bus.

And found our way to Hôtel Des Milles Collines, better known as Hotel Rwanda.

Welcome to Kigali, Land of No ATM's

Marlee and I in Kigali!

Still bouncing off the walls with the adrenaline from our jump, the rest of the day in Jinga, Uganda, flew by. Meghan and Nelson left to go back to Arusha in the early afternoon, and it was just us four girls left for the rest of our journey! Marlee and I explored downtown in the late afternoon, talking about the extraordinary differences we had seen in just Tanzania and Uganda alone. In Arusha, we usually walked down paved roads, not the dirt roads Jinga had. Jinga seemed to me more of a tropical paradise, more relaxed and less city-like than Arusha. It was really like comparing apples to oranges. The similarities seemed to stop at they are both African countries. The differences were amazing, seeing as only Kenya divided them.

We carefully timed our dinner, making sure we'd be full but not needing to use the washroom during our bus ride to Kigali, Rwanda. We hopped in a taxi just before 11 on Sunday night and went to the bus station. The tv in the station was turned onto Grey's Anatomy, yep I was stoked. This made the 45 minute late bus seem almost enjoyable. We boarded and scrambled to find our seats, but to our frustration they were already occupied by a less-than-willing-to-move local. After several unsuccessful attempts of asking him to move, as these seats were ours and we had the tickets to prove it, (the bus was moving by this time) I went to the front of the bus and got the attendee to help us out. The local begrudgingly was forced to move and we snuggled into our seats.. None of us really knew how safe it was to go to sleep, especially since we hadn't exactly made friends with our seat neighbors.

After a few hours of on and off nervous sleep, the bus came to a halt. Still half asleep, none of us really payed attention to why we were stopped, as this was a frequent occurrence. You can imagine our surprise when we fully opened our eyes and saw that a man with a large gun had made his way to the back of the bus and was standing over us pointing to our bags and motioning for us to open them. Too nervous about what he could possibly do, we obliged. I was mostly just worried about him taking my cameras... I knew I'd be wanting to take a lot of pictures over the next few days. All went well with the searching and after everyones stuff had been gone through the bus was off.

After the most bumpy road you could possibly imagine (all unpaved of course), we arrived in Kigali at about 1130 Monday morning!! Drowsy and a little uneasy to be setting foot in completely unknown territory, we made our way off the bus. Unsure of even where to begin, we figured it would be best to exchange a little bit of money and grab a taxi to a hotel name we had found in Lonely Planet. One of the men who worked at the bus station helped us out big tim, finding us a taxi and making sure we got a decent rate to our hotel.

We all stared in awe as we made our way up the road to Hôtel Isimbi. Rwanda is truly a country of a thousand hills. The city of Kigali, being no exception, seemed to just be one large hill itself! Everything built into its side, and the road twisting around it, the hill seemed to go on forever. We arrived outside of the hotel and walked up to the reception. Because Rwanda's languages are Kirwandan and French, we were at a complete loss in the communication department... I really hate to say it, but maybe I should have payed more attention to Mme Aubin.. That was really hard to even type. We finally got across that we needed two rooms for the night. We got our keys and tromped our way up the six flights of stairs to our humble abodes. Humble isn't quite the right words.. Each room had one double bed and a bathroom, and that was about it. Two of us went to each room and collapsed onto the beds. Knowing we didn't have much time to waste while in Rwanda, we headed into the city to do some exploring about an hour later.

It is the strangest feeling, being somewhere you and those you are with know absolutely nothing about. We had no map, no guide, no clue really. But we did it! Whatever it is I guess....

First things first, we needed money. We found the Bank of Kigali, figuring it was our best bet for an ATM. We quickly learned that all the ATM's in Kigali were down and that we had to go up to the third floor of the bank to have the teller do the withdrawal manually. After talking with some girls who were from Canada and the US and had lived in Rwanda for 7 or so years, we learned that the whole country doesn't take international debit cards. Sweet. I was happy I had my visa. Until I got to the teller and the big fat declined showed up on the little screen. I didn't even know what to do. Overwhelmed with exhaustion and frustration and confusion and all of these emotions that I had no idea how to deal with I just felt like screaming and crying and just laughing all at once. I let a few tears slide and figured I'd just call VISA and find out what was wrong. When I took out my phone to dial the customer service number, of course I found out my Tanzanian SIM card wouldn't work in Rwanda.

Mission number two was to get a working phone. Finding a SIM card wasn't hard, as they are sold on every street corner, and I was lucky to have a couple of extra USD to exchange for Rwandan Francs. I got my phone working, bought a couple of minutes and was set. We found a Mzungu cafe to grab some lunch and were all good. After being assured by the amazing girls I was with that it didn't matter what lunch cost, we were all to order exactly what we wanted. They'd spot me the difference till I got my money junk sorted out. Almost unanimously we ordered big fat bacon cheeseburgers and milkshakes to boot. While we were waiting for our food, the first phone call I made was to my mom.. Looking back on this, it probably wasn't the best decision. At 4am her time, I think the last thing she was expecting was a call from her daughter in Rwanda. It didn't help matters that as soon as I heard her voice I began to ball. Everything I had been feeling for the last few days seemed to just release at the smallest reminder of home. After assuring her I was okay and that we were all safe, we tried to figure out my credit card issues. One phone call to VISA later and I found out I had officially max-ed out my card. Shit.

We toured the city a bit more, then realized we were all too exhausted to appreciate much. We headed back to our hotel to find it had no running water.. So much for a refreshing shower. After a quick lie down, we headed downstairs for dinner. Orange Fanta was once again our savior, and we devoured the food as soon as it was placed in front of us. After dinner, and with much difficulty, we found out the names of the memorials we wanted to see the next day and had some idea of how we might go about getting to them. Off to bed we went, preparing ourselves for the emotional day that we knew lay ahead.

3, 2, 1.... Bungee!!

Saturday and Sunday were the two most extreme days of my life. Hands down.

After a quick breakfast, we were ready to begin our day of rafting! Before this, I'd never done anything like it before, only heard about it from my parents. I was pretty excited, and at the time had no reason to be nervous. We were given a quick safety briefing at the hostel, threw on our life jackets and helmets, and piled into some trucks with about 50 other mzungu's. We drove 20 or so minutes, the arrived at the point in the Nile River where we'd begin our 30 km journey. Since we were a group of 6 and there were only groups of 7 allowed in the rafts, we being the Canadian pushovers that we are, split ourselves up and paired with two other groups of four. Cassie, Andrea and I went with two guys who roomed with us at the hostel and their two friends, all who were from Colorado. Meghan, Marlee and Nelson went with another group and we were off!

I was the only one in my raft who had never rafted before, so the nerves began to set in early. The first thing we learned was how to hold a paddle, the second to never let go of your paddle, and the third to try and always hold onto the boat. So much to think about! I was a little flustered. Before I knew it, our (we think he was Kenyan or Ugandan) guide Alex, had us tipped over and into the water. Already panicky, there was no way I was going to be able to hoist myself back into the boat. The first time the boys hauled all of us girls back up, and after that we were determined to do it ourselves! We paddled around for a bit, then hopped out to swim down the first rapid, that was only a class 1. After this one, we were all able to lift ourselves into the boat no problem! Ready for our first real rapid, we were off!

The first rapid we had to paddle through was a class 3, and I was terrified. We made it through that one, but flipped on the next. Flipping really wasn't as bad as I thought it would be! Having my confidence restored, I felt like the class 5 rapid we were about to attempt was a piece of cake. We did brilliantly! Well.. the boys did... I called 'get down' for myself, and hid in the middle of the raft while the boys kept paddling. The other girls didn't paddle much on the rapids either so I didn't feel too bad. We did a few more rapids, flipped once, got scared and jumped out once when I thought we were going to flip, then reached a flat stretch for lunch. We all were given almost a whole and extremely delicious pineapple along with some Glucose Crackers. After lunch time flew by, we went backwards down a waterfall and saw some of the villages who are situated along the Nile. Before I knew it we were heading into our last rapid.. Much to my relief, we had gone the whole day without seeing a crocodile and no one had gotten injured more than a broken nail and a bloody nose on one of the boys. As we approached the last rapid, we were warned that if we were to flip we needed to swim hard and to the right or else we would be caught up in the class 3 rapid below. It began to rain and the water was getting choppy. Alex told us we needed to paddle hard through it or else we wouldn't make it. More than a little nervous, we flew into the rapid. I even have picture proof that I paddled the whole way through! We were the first raft through and did not flip. An amazing day!!

After we walked up and loaded up into the vehicles, we went to the main hobig bbq dinner. I'll skip the part where we drove on wet dirt roads and skidded into a few banks. Oops. TIA.We ate overlooking the Nile, and it was breathtaking! Headed back to our hostel with the others who went rafting and played some cards. It was nice to just hang out for the evening and talk to some others who were doing a lot of traveling. Two of the guys we met up with were doing an around the world trip, and the two others had come and met up with them and had already climbed Kili all together. I learned even more about Africa's history and shared some different opinions on western lifestyles! All in all, an excellent day!

Sunday morning we woke up a little nervous. Today was bungee day! For breakfast I ordered banana pancakes after much contemplation... In Africa, you never really know what you're getting when you order it. Much to my relief, three fluffy pancakes along with maple syrup soon after arrived. Delicious! We packed our bags and headed down the road to our bungee spot. We walked into the lodge and saw the spot we'd be jumping from. 45 meters above one of the rapids we had gone down the day before! Intimidating to say the least.

We weighed in and headed up. Three of us stayed at the bottom to get pictures of the other two (Nelson wasn't jumping), and then we switched. My stomach started to twist as I climbed the stairs to the platform. We snuck a peak over the edge... 45 meters is really high up. I told the other girls that I'd like to go first, not sure if I'd go through with the jump if I didn't! I edged my way over the the end where I sat in a chair and had my feet bound together. I was assured I was more than safe and that there shouldn't be any doubt in my mind that I could do it.. After all, I'd already seen two of my friends go before. The guy running it told me that when I got to the edge and he counted down I was to spring forward and dive like Pochahontas. I got up and hopped my way to the edge. I peered over and almost puked. My whole body went numb and I was convinced that I couldn't do it. I stood on the edge for 2 and a half minutes freaking out.. Doesn't seem like a long time, but it really is. The guy coaxed me through and explained that if I were to get all undone I'd have to do the walk of shame and wouldn't even get my money back! Pfft, I was determined to show him who was getting their moneys worth. I steadied myself as he counted 3, 2, 1, and on bungee I jumped.. More like stepped. But I pulled myself into the dive position and plummeted into the river below. What an exhilarating feeling! I can't even begin to explain the different emotions running through my head as I fell. Of course I was more than safe and a raft zoomed over to pick me up as soon as I stopped bouncing up and down. A pretty cool day, but not something I want to do again!

Red Dirt Road..

Thursday we were all more than anxious to get our journey started.. The four girls that I room with, our Swahili teacher/Tanzanian friend Nelson and I were all in for the trip of our lives! Even though it is Africa, we made sure we were at the bus station at 3, even though check in time wasn't until 330 and the bus wasn't supposed to leave until 4. We sat impatiently chittering about how excited we were and all the amazing things we were going to do.. Then we started getting antsy.. 4 o clock came, no bus. 430 came, no bus. 5 pm, no bus. Finally 515 the bus rolled around the corner and we all hoped on. Nelson had been smart and booked our tickets far enough in advance that we were all in the front seats, with plenty of leg room. We were in for a long trip. As we sang along to the Shaggy and Sean Paul that were played over the loud speakers the bus ride didn't seem that bad! We caught some quick zee's and before we knew it we were at the Kenyan border. Things went lickety-split, we got our visas, experienced our first of many squat toilets, and were headed for Nairobi. All the way, we followed a long and unpaved red dirt road, that has now turned me and most of my clothes that strange color that won't come out.. and never again will I complain about speed bumps in Canada!

Chilly, but still in good spirits we had another pee break in Nairobi (this squatter was so gross and sketchy it puts my Ecuador bathroom to shame, and that's saying a lot...) around 2 in the morning or so and were off to the Ugandan border.. Not more than three or four hours later and we were at our third or fourth police stop. Side story - the police in Kenya are just an extension of the corrupt government.. They'll do anything for an extra buck or two, including stopping busses and asking for a bribe. They lay down spikes across the road and don't let anyone by until they feel they've payed enough. This one however, was a different story.

A guard hopped on our bus with a huge gun and sat down right in front of us. He directed us down the road, and at this point we had no clue what was going on and we were just excited to get moving. Until we found out we were headed to the police impound lot. They parked our bus and any other poor suckers who happened to be in public transit in the same place and time. We were all waiting to get 'inspected'. Three or four hours in, nap time was exhausted and it was time to find something to do. Kampala Coach (the bus company) sprang for Fanta's, so we grabbed a few and headed for the squat toilets. Back to the bus we headed and were more than pleased to hear that the inspector was on his way. After seven long hours, a man in a white lab coat showed up claiming he was the inspector and took a look at our bus. Didn't open the hood, didn't go inside, just walked around. I'm assuming after this the bus driver payed his dues for whatever the inspector found to be wrong and we were on our way!

We crossed into Uganda around 4 in the afternoon and were almost to our destination, Jinga. Because of the Kenyan delays, we weren't sure if we were going to make it in time to do the bungee jump. We got into Jinga at around 530 and met with the guy who would take us to our hostel. After booking our tickets to Kigali for Sunday, one day later than planned, we were off to start our adventures! We checked into the hostel and were informed that we would have to wait until Sunday to do our bungee. Because we were so exhausted from our extremely long day of travel, we were fine with this.. plus it meant staying an extra day in Uganda!

After a briefing by Nash, the Kenyan who worked at the hostel, we were stoked to dive into our amazingly inexpensive but delicious burgers. Uganda is the cheapest country I've spent time in so far! 2,200 Ugandan Shillings = $1 USD, and a burger and fries was only 6,000 shillings. Water was 500 shillings and 750 mL of beer was 2,000 shillings. We were in heaven. After demolishing way more food than necessary, we clambered into bed. More than excited, and a little nervous, for the rafting we had in store the next day!

Just Around The River Bend....

I'm in a Disney mood now, especially after finding 102 Disney movies on one dvd for 4,000 shillings, or about $2.50. The Lion King is surprisingly accurate and lots of the characters names, mostly from Lion King 2, are actual Swahili words.. Kovu means scar in Swahili and he's Scars descendant in the movie! And tomorrow we're leaving for the longest river in the world, the Nile, so the river bend song from Pocahontas is going through my head.

This week has flown by. Monday I got to the orphanage and found that the computer had broke, so a lot of the work I was supposed to do I wasn't able to. TIA. I came home to get some work done here and e mailed an article to the Arusha Times. I'll put a picture of it up when it gets printed! Ronnie and I went to Camp Joshua and hung out there for a little while. During the kids lunch I played soccer with them.. At first they were not too keen on a female playing, but after they saw that I sort of knew what I was doing they were more than happy to have a mzungu join! After they went in, two of the other volunteers there asked if I wanted to join them in a class. They explained that much of the time the teachers just don't feel like going so they don't. We went into a grade 1 or 2 equivalent class and drew some pictures with them. We tried to get our bus tickets reserved from Kimpala to Kigali but weren't able to. After dinner we played some scrabble and drank Konyagi. That stuff will never get good.

Tuesday I didn't even attempt to go to the orphanage.. I worked from home and have arranged to take three of my kiddies to different hospitals to get worked on... Bryson to an optometrist, Esther to an orthopedic surgeon and Joseph to a hospital in Moshi. I'm pretty excited! Later in the afternoon I went into town and met with Jennifer, an old volunteer, and we talked in depth about what I needed to do to make this place work. I left our meeting feeling more positive than I had in a long time. I think it's do able to clean up a lot of the mess here, especially since I've been working so closely with Teacher Juliet! After that, I went to the Arusha Times office and met with the editor there. A very nice man who is super stoked to have someone writing articles weekly for the paper! The stuff I'll be writing on is really up to me, this past week was just an update on LOHADA and what they've been up to! The next group of volunteers are also starting to arrive, but we'll (we being the 5 girls that remain from the May arrivals) miss most of it as we're on our big trip!

Today I went to go meet with Mama Wambura and Juliet at the orphanage. They were more than ecstatic that I had gotten an article to the paper and had finished the newsletter for LOHADA for the month of May. I hung out with my little boys for much of the morning, and learned how to say "you are wet", "mama, Joseph is wet" and "don't throw". Juliet and I went through more of the sponsorship records, trying to decipher who has and has not paid over the last few years.. Record keeping isn't one of the strong points of African culture. In the afternoon I went into town with a new volunteer to get some pictures to send to my kiddies sponsors. We grabbed some snacks for the trip tomorrow and I'm just waiting now for my amazing dinner of chapati. Mmmmmm. Deep fried goodness.

About our trip! Me and four other girls, along with Nelson (our Swahili teacher and favorite Chaaga) are whipping up through Kenya into Uganda tomorrow. On Friday we'll arrive (after a really long bus trip) and then do a bungee jump. Saturday we do a white water raft down the Nile and then get on a bus to Rwanda. We're going to stay one night at Hotel Rwanda or Des Milles Collines, and visit the genocide memorials. We'll stay for another day or so to explore Kigali and then head home! Should take about a week to do, long long bus rides... I'm more than excited for this trip!