Kayaking the Nile

When I was younger, I was obsessed with Egypt.  I wanted to be an archaeologist and spend my days in the hot sun working near the banks of the Nile, finding mummified cats and perfume bottles.  The discovery of King Tut’s tomb was the single most exciting thing to happen to me at age 12. 

This weekend I went to the source of the Nile in Jinja, Uganda.  From the famous waters of Lake Victoria, the Nile starts its path in Uganda and flows all the way down Africa.  The Nile river can be as spiritual as the Ganges but can also be brutal, crashing down waterfalls and forming grade 5 rapids.  At the Ganges, I said a prayer, closed my eyes, and let my oil scented rose petals join the slow flow.  At the Nile, I said a prayer and got into a kayak to join some of the rapids. 

The Mouth of the Nile

My kayak was a two person kayak and I sat with Sean—a friend visiting from Malawi.  There were 8 of us, including Kiira, my dear friend from graduate school who is now working in Cambodia.  Kiira and I always meet in the strangest places, last time we met we traveled around Shanghai together.  (http://chelseatosea.blogspot.com/2012/01/first-day-in-shanghai.html).

When we started to see the waterfalls and rapids ahead of us we expressed our terror to our guide: Colin, our instructor from Ireland.  He basically just told us to shut up and get on the water.   Sean and I made a good team.  We were swift and sure of ourselves and approached the first rapid laughing.  We were told to not stop paddling even when the rapid was all around us.  Physics and stuff.  The waves rose taller than my head and I was no longer in the Nile but in the Pacific Ocean navigating a storm.

I saw a wave grow over us and I knew.  It crashed down and threw me into the water.  Sean went with our kayak across the river and I flew with my paddle the other way.  My life jacket popped me up but every time I sucked in for a breath a wave crashed over me and filled my mouth.  Choking and gasping, I scrambled for air.  Trying all the while to hold onto my paddle, because even in my terror I was concerned to lose it and to have to pay for damages. 

But then I hit a wall of water.  My paddle went in the other direction.  And I was sucked down spinning violently.  I got stuck in a whirlpool.  Sucking me down lower and deeper even the life vest had no effect. 

I had not taken a breath so there was no air in my lungs.  Just water.  I was under water for 9 seconds.  No profound thoughts went through my head.  No thoughts of regret, no flashes of a storyboard life.  Just “I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I don’t like this.” 

Good to know.

Then the whirlpool popped me up choking and gasping and still very much not liking this.  Colin (my future husband) was above me reaching out his hand.  “Hold on, grab the back of my kayak!” My eyes were bloodshot, snot was pouring out of my nose, and my stomach was bloated with water.  But I batted my eyelashes and held on tight.

I got myself safely back into my kayak and made it down the reset of the rapids without incident. 

Kayaking the Nile was the single most fun event of my life.

And I’m a little more fearless now. A little more appreciative.  A little more baller.

A moment

I grinned at the boy who grinned back.  He turned to face me and I saw a large, white mass growing, and oozing out of the side of his head.
I looked away.

A mother grabbed my skirt and gave me her daughter.  The back of the little girl's head was necrotic and looked like it had been eaten away.  There were flies in it.
All I could say was, "I'm sorry.  I'm not a doctor."

Holiness to me are moments that blind me to the past and future, granting me complete presence.
Mountains do this to me.
Love does this to me.
And so do moments like these.

I am not thinking, only seeing.  A feeling rising up from the bottom of my stomach and settling in my throat. I smell of sick bodies 5 people thick all around me.

I go in to see the doctor and explain this new tool I developed to help better track malaria testing.

But the boy is still outside.

But the girl is still waiting.

Update, 2 months in, Uganda

I've been here now for almost two months.  It feels like a week.

I spend a lot of time in the field.  Trying to call data collectors to find out why they are two hours late.  Trying to print things in the precious moments between power outages.  Trying not to let my New York sensibilities scare the nice Ugandan people.

I pick up a lot of babies because that is what I like to do.  I gave a piece of my banana to a little girl who waited, alone, in the dirt, for her mother to leave the clinic.  She started choking and then threw it up all over herself.  I should probably not feed the babies.

My team is amazing and we make the numbingly bumpy car rides fun.  Vicky talks about her boyfriend and "why won't he propose already?" I talk about how, at the end of the day, all I really want is someone to share coffee with.  Nescafe doesn't count.

I've made so many friends.  They're all very sexy.  Liz is an american journalist who travels around Africa writing stories about genocide.  Fluff pieces really.  Emily works on the South Sudan humanitarian crisis.  Jenny is dating (and the mother of his son) a Ugandan superstar.  Leanne goes deep into the field providing family planning to those who need it most but are most scared.  Morgan is leaving us.  She is moving to Papua New Guinea to work on domestic violence an epidemic affecting almost 100% of women.  And I've got my mosquitoes.  Which is super sexy.

I've joined the mountain climbing club of Uganda and every week I climb some rocks and drink some adrenaline and get stronger and fight my fear.  Also it helps that the other rock climbers are gorgeous.

I don't know where my long term base will be or when I'm going to come home for a visit, but I'll keep you all posted.

I'm planning to go to Ugandan mass in continuation of my education to learn and understand what sustains people beyond the medicine.  What gives people dignity and strength.  Maybe I'll even get my hair braided.

Maybe not.

Camping in Uganda

7 people piled into a car.  I wonder how many of my posts start like that?

For Easter weekend, we went camping in Lake Mburo—a National Park in Uganda.  Lisa’s boyfriend, Sam, drove us through the mountains for 4 hours and we jammed out to Rihanna.  We knew we were close to the campsite when the birds started getting crazy big and colorful.  The Ugandan bird is a Grey Crane and we had the fortune of seeing a few over the weekend.

The campsite was surrounded by Mburo Lake.  It’s more than gorgeous—it’s terrifying.  The lake is infested with giant crocodiles and hippos—the most dangerous animal in the world.  The hippos, lay waiting for nightfall to rise up from the lake, eyes first, and walk onto dry land.  They look like a big roly poly bundle of goodness, but they can run 30km per hour and crunch a body in half.

We built a campfire to ward off the camp’s many predators: hippos, crocodiles, hyenas, lions, leopards, and wild buffalo.   Also because camp fires are the best things ever.  I brought a pot and fried up some bacon and beans.  Those of us who had boyfriends cuddled with them.  Those of us who did not, cuddled with the wild boars.  (Just kidding.)  The stars shattered the night with their light.  We sat in a circle and drank whiskey, and stared giddily at the circle of forest and water just beyond our firelight.  When we were tipsy enough to take off fear’s edge, we went to sleep.  We awoke when the hippos came out.

The Hippos sounded like the Devil’s laughter.  They surrounded our tents.  I thought we would die.  Something was chewing something else by my ear all night.  If I reached out I could touch it.  I hoped it was a lion.

In the morning, I went out of the tent and could see all the animals’ footprints from the night before.  It looked like it was a Lion King party.  Footprints revealed that the animal by my head all night was a gigantic, dangerous, wild buffalo.  Oi.

It rained on and off all day so we spent it in the car trying to spot cool animals.  We saw zebras, impalas, waterbuck, wild boar, wild buffalo, and the Easter bunny.  We played cards by the lake.  

Suddenly scores of baboons swarmed our camp, and before we could get back to our tents, they had unraveled all of our tinfoil which they gnawed on, threw all of our bottles until they shattered and overturned all of our garbage.  Baboons are the assholes of Africa.

At night, 4 of us got in the car with a ranger who stood in the sunroof and directed a huge spotlight for a night drive.  This was the way to see the big scary animals.  It was very muddy so the car kept almost stalling.  Which was the most terrifying thing every because, if the car got stuck in the middle of the lionsleopardshipposohmy, we may as well have been the goat lowered into the T-Rex cage in Jurassic Park.  The car never did stall.  And we saw a zeal (that’s the right word—look it up) of zebras, morosely marching in a single file line and thinking “Crap it’s night again, please don’t eat me, please don’t eat me.”  AND I SAW A POD (that’s the right word—look it up) OF HIPPOS!  Wildest craziest beautifulest sight.  No hyenas, lions or leopards, but there is always next time.

The second night I slept like a baby because I am a pro.

Impalas against the Sunset

Part of the Crew

Monkey on the Prado

ZEBRAS!

Me and my boo

Logistics

We need 37 tablets for our study.   I visit 3 stores, it will be $829 more to buy here than in the US.  What if we shipped it to the Boston office and then DHL?  DHL cost $4000.  Who’s coming to the US?  Coleen is.  What if we shipped them to Coleen and then she brought them to Uganda.  But she’s not going to Uganda, she’s going to Tanzania.  Maybe she could pass them off to Laura in Tanzania who can then bring it back to Uganda.  Oh but Laura is going to the DRC first, and that would mean 3 countries worth of customs charges.  Ok what if she stopped over in Uganda, and before switching plane to Tanzania, she dropped the bag with a hired clearing agent who finished the process?  Ok.  But Amazon only lets you order 3 tablets per account.  Ok so let me get all my friends and family to order tablets from Amazon to send to her address.  We only have 24 hours for it to make it to her on time.  Oh my god, it’s not 3 per account, it’s 3 per account per credit card!  All of my orders have been cancelled.  Maybe Coleen can go to Best Buy directly.  Ok she has the tablets.  Tablets are going to cost $800 in custom charges $200 in clearing charges, $400 for the clearing agent, and 2 days for the clearing.  But Coleen’s flight was cancelled until next week.  OK pushing study back by a week.  Ok need Best Buy to email invoice before tax and discount.  1 hour on phone later, then will get it to me in 48 hours.  They do not get it to me in 48 hours.  OK will call again.  How will Coleen meet the clearing agent?  How will she get her suitcase?  OK she’ll buy a new suitcase so it can stay with customs.  Flight delayed again.

Coleen gets off the plane, passing customs, passes clearance, and never once was stopped.  She didn't have to pay one cent.  We saved over $1000.  

We have the tablets.

Weekend Adventures

The dark rain clouds rush in so fast with such teeth chattering loud thunder it’s positively Armageddon.  I love the storms.  They’re sudden and adrenaline inducing and the perfect metaphor for my experience so far in Uganda.

On Friday night I stayed late at the office for a goodbye party for a coworker.  I had never been to a Ugandan party!  And I’m a bit of a culture hoarder so I couldn’t wait to soak this up.  A beautiful spread was laid on the table set on the grassy area just under the big tree.  And I thoroughly enjoyed the KFC, Pizza, and my heated discussion about the NY Knicks.

Saturday was a bit more out of my comfort zone.  Myself and 5 other girls (we had to count our duckling heads to make sure no one was lost) waded into the muddy, tarped market Owino.  Owino is a used clothes market so dense and expansive we needed to hold hands.  What made this market different than the markets I’ve been in India, Thailand, Bangladesh was the touching.  My arm and shirt was grabbed by every vendor promising to have my size. 

“Oh my beautiful future wife, come see these pants.” 

I could probably find a husband by sticking my hand out and hailing one like a taxi.

I did find some fun Italian leather shoes from Italy for $8 and a pair of Ban Rays sunglasses. 

With my feet caked in mud, I went to the dvd store and stocked up on every season of every television series ever.  For 50 cents.

I went to a friend’s art show and supported her charity to empower women suffering from domestic violence by buying some art.

Then I went to a house party where Ugandan boys jumped off the roof into a pool.  I was a nervous wreck.

The moral of the story?  KFC is good in any country but the Knicks are not, I can find a husband at the store, House of Cards is the best show ever, and I hope I never have a boy.

Walk home from office