Your Miracle Is On the Way
Find someone you like on their good days and their bad days.
—Elliot's wise words on the occasion of their 10th anniversary
Oh boy, do I have a treat for you today. (Elliot might have said good days, bad days, and wacky days.) When we visited the mosque in Kampala we ladies were compelled to wear skirts and headscarves (which were provided for us), and we, being Western feminists, were NOT happy.
On the upside, my sister gave me the most amusing video out of everything we've recorded on our travels. Watch it after noting these facts:
1. We were confused by the signposts in a Rwandan town on Lake Kivu, which seemed to have two names: Karongi and Kibuye. (But now that I'm googling them, it looks like Kibuye is the town and Karongi is the district.)
2. Bilharzia is a disease caused by parasitic worms that live in freshwater.
(I hope this video doesn't offend any Muslims who may randomly happen upon my blog. She mocks all religions equally, if that makes any difference. Just imagine all the fun she'd have doing a song-and-dance number in this getup!)
The minaret has 272 steps. (Jill counted.)
One of Kate's shots from inside the mosque:
We also visited the Tombs of the Buganda Kings at Kasubi (ceiling detail above) and the Baha'i Temple (below).
A few last notes from my journal:
Kampala was originally built on seven hills [somebody had Rome in mind!] We did not see much of the city's opulence—my most vivid memories are of the usual dusty red roads packed with one-room stores or houses of simple brick and mortar, truck cabs stacked on corrugated tin roofs. "Beauty Parlor" or "Dry Cleaner" looks like a hovel. All the buildings very very crowded together. One of the guidebooks talks about tourists coming to see the wildlife but the people are just as interesting, and that is true. Friendliest children ever. ("A mzungu!", with delight.) Gorgeous women in vibrant wax-printed fabrics, perfect posture, carrying plastic water jugs or baskets of bananas or avocados on their heads.
We had a couple of lovely last meals in Kampala—Colin promised us wholesome traditional fare, and it was delish. We even had banana juice. (Banana juice!!)
At our last lunch we all dared each other to eat these INSANELY HOT PEPPERS. WHOOOOOOOOOOOO.
This concludes my Uganda-Rwanda-2013 recap (about time, right?!) Next week (or maybe the week after), back to Israel/Jordan!
My Daemon is the Zebra
Okay, so I have a bunch of "spirit animals"—owls and foxes, definitely—but while in Africa, my daemon is the zebra. They're just so...improbable. Blend in? What for?? 
After our time in Rwanda, we braved the chaotic border crossing one more time and headed to Uganda's Lake Mburo National Park. This park (despite its accessibility) isn't as popular as Queen Elizabeth, Bwindi, or Ishasha because of its low "big five" count: there are no elephants and no longer any lions. (At least one pride was poisoned by local farmers for killing livestock.) 
What do you find at Lake Mburo? A whopping 315 species of birds, plus:
7pm, 4 September 2013
Stayed behind at the Mburo campsite while the others went for an evening drive in search of hyenas...We saw zebras and impalas today! And I got a good pic of a vervet monkey and her baby suckling. Lots of baby animals. [Vervet sighting—Elliot talking about service monkeys instead of dogs.] Hippos grunting down the lake from the restaurant.
You will also find some very ballsy warthogs, who drew uncomfortably close to our tents. The vervet monkeys, too, were hopping all over our Land Cruiser looking for nibbles. 
Gorgeous sunset that evening:
Kate: "I'm going to have a kid just so I can be an a-hole to him." (After giving me a hard time for not eating the second plate of rice, and telling me it's the last thing I'll eat for a week.)(And yes, she actually said "a-hole.")
Back to Kigali
When I am at the market, in the midst of a large crowd,I always think I might just find my brothers.—Rose, age 10
This is the blog post I have been putting off for two years. As I type this I'm still not sure I'm actually going to write about the Kigali Genocide Memorial Centre. What can I possibly add in terms of response or commentary?I suppose I can talk about my feelings as we moved through the exhibit: horror, disbelief, disbelief, disbelief, and more horror; and then, whenever we encountered victims' faces or belongings (or video interviews with survivors talking about their lost loved ones), I felt sadness. I was thirteen when the Rwandan genocide occurred, and while we talked about it in our social studies classes, it always seemed so abstract, so thoroughly unbelievable. Genocide was something that only could have happened in the Bad Old Days, back when my grandfather was indirectly fighting the Japanese on a destroyer in the South Pacific. But the "Bad Old Days" can and do revisit themselves upon the present, usually with new faces and different governments involved.I took a lot of notes that day at the museum (because again, I thought I might be able to come up with some sort of intelligent response here):
Fire is a symbol of death + mourning in Rwandan culture. Elephants = memory, fruit trees = children.
Dogs eating corpses in the streets.
Fabric retrieved from a mass grave: a fitted sheet printed with the Superman emblem.
Children beaten and thrown into septic tanks. Women forced to kill own children before being killed themselves.
Catholic priests implicated in Rwandan genocide—told Interahamwe where Tutsis were hiding. WHY???????????
"Education is part of the answer to denial." (re Holocaust survivors speaking in schools)
Human beings do unspeakably evil things to other human beings, and I can have no intelligent response to that fact. I can only renew my commitment to a peaceful life, which means not responding to anger with more anger, but with compassion; and easing the suffering of others wherever and however I possibly can. I can also pray that anyone who is engaged in conflict, as a victim or as a perpetrator (or who might fall into both categories) will somehow be able to find peace and clarity out of suffering and confusion.
Lake Kivu
High time I got back to my travel blogging—we (Kate and Jill and I) are heading to Georgia to visit Alex in November, and I'd really like to have finished my Uganda/Rwanda and Israel/Jordan write-ups by then. 
September 1, 2013, 6:30pm LAKE KIVU!!! I'm sitting on the ledge of a terrace looking out at one of the most breathtaking views in recent memory. Or ever. So so so lovely. Hills like paper cutouts receding, receding into the pale evening horizon. A calm gray lake. 
September 2, 2013, 10amWe are sitting inside a church where more than 11,000 Tutsis were killed during the genocide. Outside there is a memorial with rows of skulls in a glass case beneath a small crucifix. The stained glass is of the crudest design I've seen, but it throws such bright and beautiful shapes on the cement floor.I keep saying to myself, "Let me be love." And I realized—actually began to "internalize" it, maybe—that there IS no me. I know I am beginning to internalize that truth because it actually felt good this time to face it. 
Namirembe dress
The garment-a-month challenge I set for myself in January (inspired by Annika) is working out pretty well even though I am two months behind. I would never have finished five garments in six and a half months without this self-imposed motivation! 
And of course, the more I make the more compliments I get, which gets me even more psyched to start on the next project. 
On our Uganda/Rwanda trip back in August 2013, Kate and Elliot and I spent a good bit of time at a craft market in Kampala shopping for fabric. They'd just bought their house and were looking for an eye-catching print to hang on the wall, and I was hoping to find something fun but not too "busy" for a dress project. As soon as I saw this subtle and vaguely botanical print (are they berries? squash? nuts? acorns?) I knew three yards of it were coming home with me. Kate convinced the shopkeeper to cut a six-yard swathe in half (they wanted me to buy the whole thing, but I knew the three extra yards would only sit in my stash for years)—she is so good at bargaining, while I'm still working on doing it despite my discomfort. 
I think of this sewing project as the Namirembe dress because "Namirembe" comes from the Luganda word for "peace," and it's a popular name for girls. The story goes that the first Namirembe was a great benefactress in the Christian community. 
Apart from the fabric origin, I don't have much in the way of notes on this project; it's the same mash-up as the unicorn dress, Mary Adams + Simplicity 2591, but this time I included the pockets from the Simplicity pattern. The practicality is so worth the extra sewing! 
As you can tell by the photos on my news page, this has been my go-to gussied-up-authoress outfit for the past month and change (I finished it just before my NYC event on May 6th). It is flattering and funky and I get appreciative looks and gentlemanly compliments every time I wear it. My favorite comment came from my friend Jaclyn's roommate, who asked if I'd ever lived in Africa while I lounged in their hammock at a recent tea party. She'd lived in Kampala for awhile, so she recognized the fabric. 
I lined the bodice with black batiste left over from the cathedral dress, but I haven't lined the skirt yet. I really need to do that if I want to be able to wear this dress through the fall and winter. (Otherwise the fabric clings to my stockings. Slippy acetate/rayon lining = free movement.)I have to confess that when I'm almost finished with a sewing project, I get lazy. I haven't actually sewn in the bodice linings of either this dress or my unicorn dress, just basted them in place so I could wear each of them ASAP. I also had to re-sew this zipper. I showed up at Kate G's office the day of the McNally Jackson event and heard the ominous sound of snapping threads as I took off my jacket. But literary agents help you out with all kinds of things, not just book deals, haha—Kate put in a safety pin and I was good to go. 
More sewing projects to blog about soon! 
I Praise the Cleanliness of Rwanda
(Continued from In Which We Are Nearly Trampled by an Elephant at Midnight.)
So we had that late-night incident with the forest elephant, and I tossed and turned until morning (or would have, had there been any room to). It had occurred to me that I'd been eating pineapple, and at bedtime I got lazy and relieved my bladder at the edge of the campsite. What if the elephant smelled pineapple in my pee??I became increasingly convinced of my guilt as the day went on and we packed up and set out for Kigali, the capital of Rwanda. (Immigration control was more tedious than we expected, but then that is the definition of bureaucracy.) 
Apart from a bit of ongoing car trouble, our evening in Kigali was very enjoyable. The hostel is wonderful (lovely breakfast included—awesome homefries not pictured), and we had filling burritos at a Chipotle-esque place down the street. Then we took two taxis downtown for some proper exploring. 
After awhile of wandering the residential back-streets, where children ran up to us and grabbed our hands to make sure we were real—everywhere we went kids would gleefully shout “mzungu!", which means "white person" by way of "ghost"—we stopped for juice at a random restaurant on the main drag. I said, “Guys, I have to tell you something. I think it's my fault we almost got trampled by an elephant."I told them my theory about the pineapple pee, and they said I was being ridiculous. (Whew!) 
I was comfortable with the vibe in downtown Kigali; apart from the kiddos, I don't remember anyone looking at us as if we were remarkable. We even met a guy who tried to sell us sunglasses at nine o'clock at night. 
The next day we headed south to Nyanza, former seat of the Rwandan kings. There's a reconstructed palace compound, which is well worth a visit—we had a very friendly and knowledgeable tour guide, and the cattle herder sang a beautiful pastoral song as we toured the farmyard—and a newer and much grander palace on a hill is now the site of the Rwesero Art Museum. Lots of interesting contemporary art—sculpture, especially—but the children's room was our favorite. 
Next post: Lake Kivu, then back to Kigali to visit the Genocide Museum.
In Which We Are Nearly Trampled by an Elephant at Midnight
(Continued from The Long Road to Rushaga.)
We fell into our tents that night, tired and happy to be reunited sooner than expected. When Jill and I woke up the others were already off on their gorilla trek, and we had a languid morning—fresh fruit for breakfast and "showers" before walking back to Rushaga for a tour of the village. 
The village walk was fun, if a little awkward at times. Inescapably you become—as if you weren't already!—a very silly tourist. That said, we really enjoyed watching the ladies dancing and weaving trivets and baskets. (I'd intended to post a video I took of the dancing, but now that it's time it doesn't feel quite right to put it up. Does this make sense? Maybe it will if you keep reading.) Everyone was very kind and friendly, and genuinely so, as far as we could tell. 
This may look like poverty by first-world standards, but we got the sense that the people of Rushaga were quite content with their lives. Enuth, our guide, told us that everyone here is adequately fed—that all their basic needs are met. 
Still, it was hard not to feel horrified by the state of their schoolhouse, and I was very awkwardly aware of how privileged (and therefore ridiculous) I must look as an American tourist. We're told on the nightly world news and charity infomercials that children all over the African continent are living and dying in abject poverty, and it's hard to tell how "typical" a place like Rushaga is when their situation just outside a national park no doubt greatly benefits their economy.What I'm trying to say is, I felt grateful all over again for the many blessings and opportunities I've been handed, but at the same time I didn't want to think of the people I was greeting as deprived in any way. An unresolvable paradox, I suppose. 
After our tour of the village, Jill went back to rest and Enuth took me past the camp to the most perfect waterfall I've ever seen. On a hill across the narrow valley I spotted Spencer coming back from his gorilla trek and called to him that we'd be eating lunch soon, which felt a little bit magical—finding the familiar inside the unfamiliar—or at least way more coincidental than it actually was. 
We had a lovely (if wonky) meal that evening—including freshly made guacamole served with potato wedges. Jill and I stayed up late having a heart to heart (they happen naturally enough when you are tent-mates), and around midnight one of the camp staff came over to ask if we had any pineapples in our tent.Wha? (Of course not. Rule #1 of camping = no food in the tent.) The man explained that an elephant had been spotted in the forest outside the village, but not to worry, they'd be awake and vigilant all night long. Elephants love pineapple, apparently.(Oh, and have I mentioned that there are no protective barriers between campsite and forest?)Jill and I kept talking for another hour or so, and then I got up to pee. Contrary to what the attendant had told us, no one appeared to be around or awake. A few minutes later, bladder relieved and all ready for beddy-bye, I reached for the tent zipper...and heard a stomping noise, and the sound of cracking branches and shuddering leaves, in the trees just beyond the campsite.I froze. And heard it again.SHIT! SHIT SHIT SHIT! We are about to be trampled by an elephant and we can't see a thing!Jill was still awake, of course. She followed me down to the cabana where our meals were served, and we only briefly wondered if we were overreacting. (Hells no, we weren't overreacting! A day or two before a mama elephant had nearly charged the Land Cruiser, an experience which dosed us with a healthy fear of elephants. We'd unintentionally driven between her and her baby.)Kate and Elliot came down a minute later, having heard the stomping noises for themselves. Spencer was wearing earplugs, but we finally managed to rouse him, and we all grabbed our sleeping bags and piled into an empty banda. 
(A banda is a one-room hut; ours had three single beds in it. We made do.) From a journal entry the following day:At first I couldn't get settled in the banda—too much nervous energy—and when I realized Jill was chewing Nicorette to calm down and now had to figure out how to dispose of it, I cracked up giggling, and eventually Elliot cried out in exasperation, "I feel like I'm camping with a bunch of three year olds!"Sorry for keeping you awake, Sir Pooh. In the morning we ventured out of the banda to find our tents intact, but I don't feel the slightest bit ridiculous for being on the safe side. Besides, it's the best story of the trip. (All Uganda and Rwanda entries.)
The Long Road to Rushaga
After three nights at Queen Elizabeth National Park, we headed down to Bwindi Impenetrable Forest National Park. That day turned out to be longer and crazier than we ever could have anticipated! First we drove several hours to Buhoma only to realize that Kate, Elliot, and Spencer were signed up for gorilla trekking on the opposite side of the park, at Rushaga—meaning that we'd have to drive all the way around the park to get there. "Buhoma," Spencer sighed. "The campground of lost dreams." (Several days later we realized how this mix-up had occurred: Dorcas, our travel agent, had explained the arrangements to Spencer when she'd woken him up one night at 3am California time. I wouldn't have gotten it straight either.)
The second snafu happened an hour or so en route to Rushaga. It became increasingly clear to Colin and Elliot that the brake pads needed to be replaced, and when we pulled over (in the middle of noplace, mind you) it seemed like we were as good as broken down. The kids had to face the possibility that they'd lose $500 apiece (gorilla trekking ain't cheap, which is why I opted out), and the prospect was a tiny bit painful. 
Then another van came along with only two passengers—a honeymooning couple from Spain—and even though their guide saw our predicament as an opportunity rather than genuinely wanting to help, he got the job done. Jill and I said goodbye to my sister and the guys, figuring it would be at least twenty-four hours before we saw them again.Colin wanted to press on—to find a town with a mechanic—so we got back on the road not too long after they did. What's the worst that can happen?, I thought. We spend the night in the car. No big deal. 
It was a strange afternoon and evening. Even though we really missed the kids, driving all that way through some absolutely gorgeous mountains with a squeaky brake was a weird sort of bonding experience for Jill and Colin and me. I felt calm because I knew everything would be fine. "I will get you there, and I will keep you safe," Colin said. And he did. 
We arrived at Rushaga after nightfall, and walked down to the Nshongi campsite with our bags. The place was packed with a large tour group who'd done the gorilla trek that day, so much so that when the kids showed up the staff initially told them there wasn't any more room. We found them putting up their tents on the edge of the site, and Kate jumped in surprise when she saw me. It felt so good to be reunited much sooner than we'd anticipated. 
We didn't get even one proper meal that day, but we made up for it the day after—and the kids got to see their gorillas! 
There's much more to tell you about Rushaga, of course—Jill and I took a tour of the village, which was really lovely, and late that night we got the fright of our lives!
Queen Liz, part 3
(Queen Liz part 1, Queen Liz part 2.) We stayed at two different settlements in Queen Elizabeth National Park—two nights in Mweya and one night at Ishasha. While we were stopped at the gate on the way in, a baboon with a hurt paw (a piece of barbed wire stuck in his skin! so sad!) sidled up to the car and seemed to be begging for food.I looked down and gasped. I had seen my first (and only, so far) baboon willie. It was bright pink and as long and thin as a drinking straw. 
Ishasha is not renowned for its exhibitionist baboons, however. People go there to see the climbing lions. 
Two lionesses asleep in a fig tree. (HOW AWESOME IS MY LIFE??) 
The Ishasha campsite was in a pretty clearing in the woods by a river. Baboons and hippos in close proximity, but there were guards keeping us safe. 
There were lots of highlights in Ishasha—the lions, our hearty alfresco dinner that night, and a nature walk with Bernard, who proved himself an excellent guide. I picked up a lot of animal facts (elephants are sexually mature at the age of twelve, and their pregnancies last 22 months; hippos spend 90% of their time in the water, and grow up to 3½ tons; colobus monkeys don't have thumbs), but my favorite part was when he explained why he believes the first Homo sapiens lived in Uganda. "When you are here," he said, "you are at home." A lovely thought. 
(All Uganda and Rwanda entries.)
Queen Liz, part 2
And I shall conclude this entry with the best booze ad I have ever seen: 
(All Uganda and Rwanda entries here.)
Eating Vegan in Uganda and Rwanda
When we travel we always pack a lot of nuts, dried fruit, and other protein-rich snacks (like wasabi peas and sesame sticks—bless you, Trader Joe!) Fortunately, Ugandan cuisine is rich in beans, rice, and root vegetables, and there is always fresh fruit available. 
Queen Liz, part 1
En route to Queen Elizabeth National Park, we saw a mini-bus with these words decal'd on the back window:
IF GOD SAY YES
WHO CAN SAY NO?
It made me happy. On the way into the park, we saw a pair of lions lounging in the long grass. (Holy crap, we really are in Africa!)We arrived at Mweya later than anticipated, around nightfall, and some of us (who shall remain nameless) panicked when faced with the prospect of spending the night at a wide open, unguarded campsite. We realized that if the park rangers aren't expecting anyone—or if you don't arrive early enough—there won't be anyone there in the evening to light a fire and keep the animals away. Jill offered to spring for a night at the fancy-pants lodge up the road, but we nixed that idea as soon as we realized how much it would cost. (Take your biggest estimate and double it! Sheesh!) Fortunately there was a good hostel-restaurant nearby, so we had a cute and very reasonably priced little cottage to ourselves for the next two nights. You should have seen the stars.
(If you are wondering if I got enough to eat as a vegan, it was all good. I ate so much hearty tasty food in Uganda and Rwanda that I'm devoting an entire post to it!)
In the morning we got up before dawn, and saw many beautiful animals and landscapes:
Next time: WE WERE THISCLOSE TO A LEOPARD AND IT WAS GORGEOUS!(All Uganda and Rwanda entries here.)
Hello Kampala!
Before we left for Uganda I got to spend a couple of nights in D.C. with the fam. Kate and Elliot bought a house earlier this year, and it was so much fun to see it for the first time and ooh and ahh over all the improvements they've already made. We had a little happy-new-house pre-trip root beer toast (nice root beer, no high fructose corn syrup!), and I found this fortune inside the cap. It was a little bit disconcerting, actually, because taking myself less seriously is something I have to work at on a daily basis.
Laid over in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.
First things first: we set up our tents at Kampala Backpackers Hostel. I expected to feel disoriented—seeing as this was my first time in Africa—but everything felt new and fresh and exciting, even something as simple as sucking on sugar cane from a street vendor:
After wandering around our neighborhood for a bit, we met up with Spencer's friend Ambrose (from his first trip to Africa in 2007), and experienced mall food Uganda style:
This photo doesn't actually capture how intense it was. A waiter from each restaurant in the mall hurries to your table and tries to get you interested in their menu over everyone else's. It was a relief when we all finally decided on what to order!The next morning Colin met us at the hostel, and after a brief trip to the travel agency to iron out the details and pay our balance, we drove down to Queen Elizabeth National Park. We had to stop for fruit, of course:
SO CUTE!
Jackfruit. I loved it in India—I remember it tasting like a cross between pineapple and mango—but we never got around to buying any this time. I did snack rather compulsively on passionfruit though, haha. Next time: Queen Liz, part 1!(All Uganda and Rwanda entries here.)
Home from Uganda!
We're home from Uganda and Rwanda! I couldn't have asked for a better first trip to Africa. So many magical moments and feelings of peace and connectedness with my dear sister and friends--peace and connectedness with most of the people we met, come to think of it. Colin drove us everywhere we wanted to go, and by the end of the trip we considered him a true friend. What a lovely man.
Joyful dancing, singing, and drumming at Rushaga. (I also took video, coming in a future post.)
Sunrise at Queen Elizabeth National Park.
Kate and Elliot celebrated their tenth anniversary (!!!) on this trip.
Gorgeous landscapes nearly everywhere we went. This one en route to Bwindi Impenetrable Forest Park.
We camped in (or just outside) three national parks and in the backyards of two city hostels.
Jill, me, Spencer, Kate and Elliot, camping on our own little terrace overlooking Kigali, the capital of Rwanda.
Zebras at Lake Mburo.
Inside the minaret at the national mosque in Kampala.
We watched a pair of lionesses sleeping in a fig tree at Ishasha (at Queen Liz).
We are so ready for Broadway.
Everywhere we went, children waved and smiled and called out to us (these little girls were until the moment I took out my camera). Friendliest kids ever!
Spotted on the drive from Kigali (in Rwanda) to Mbarara (back in Uganda).
We saw lots of baby animals on our safari drives. This one is a vervet monkey at Lake Mburo. AGGHHHHH SO CUTE.
An elephant and her wee one, spotted at Queen Liz.
In this (accidental) shot Elliot looks like he is four years old and has just gotten away with something naughty.More photos coming next week, hopefully. (I'm building my new website on Wednesday, and I'm not sure how long the blog will be on hiatus while I make all the necessary tweaks. More on this tomorrow!)
Gone Swimmin'
We're off to Uganda and Rwanda tomorrow! ("We" being me, Kate, Elliot, Jill and Spencer--the whole Peru crew.)
You have to strategize when planning your trip reading and knitting; the reading must be enjoyable but not so much of a page-turner that you blow through it and have nothing to occupy you afterward, and the knitting must be very portable and relatively mindless. Socks are ideal, but I haven't felt like knitting socks for a good while now, so I'm going to start on this cardigan in happy yellow Hempathy yarn (made of hemp, cotton, and modal). I need more yellow in my life. As for reading material, The Uses of Enchantment is easier than it looks. Fairy tales + psychology!Catch you on the flip side—two more entries after this one in September, and then I get a brand-new website!