Paul and I left in the morning for Jinja. We found a taxi at 930a but once again sat there until 1030a until the taxi was full. This “full” was only 16 people in the van—not full by Ugandan standards. This leaves room to pick up others along the way. We had been warned that the trip would take two or three hours but it was only about 90 minutes from the time we left Mukono. In true Ugandan transportation form, we were asked to get off the bus just outside Jinja because the taxi decided to go elsewhere. We arrived Jinja on Bus #2. (Two weeks ago we were coming from Kampala and there were five people on the bus who decided they wanted to go to somewhere other than Mukono, the taxi’s original destination. The driver decided to throw the rest of us out on the road so that he could accommodate the group with more money. We waited in the sun for fifteen minutes until another taxi came by that could take us the rest of the way into Mukono. You can get stranded virtually anywhere here!)

On the way there we passed through Lugazi, the last town in Uganda to have had a child found beheaded in human sacrifice in order to satisfy some witch doctor. I looked closely to see if mothers were keeping their children closer and YES! It is the first time I have not seen small children wandering the streets alone. They were all within eyesight of their mother or their father. There was a picture of this Lugazi child on the front page of the paper last week, his 6 year old head laying a few feet from the body, and the villagers standing around staring, horrified. The villagers tracked down the culprit, burned his house and belongings, and nearly beat him to death before police arrived. I think this guy is toast. As he should be.

Jinja is the second largest to town in Uganda although it is certainly not a metropolis by any standards. My purpose in wanting to go was to see the source of the Nile as it flows from Lake Victoria, but was thrilled to simply be in a town that had actual sidewalks! And the streets, although primarily dirt, weren’t pocked with pot hole after pot hole.

We were starving when we arrived and so went to an outdoor restaurant attached to a hotel, thinking that hotel food is generally safer to eat. The problem was that anything we tried to order, the waitress shook her head and said it was unavailable. It turned out that there was no electricity so everything was unavailable except coffee, chappata bread and old omelets. We were excited to have a real cup of brewed coffee so we ordered that. Forty minutes later we were delivered a thermos of hot milk and a tin of instant coffee. It was actually pretty good even though it wasn’t the brewed coffee we had hoped for. Paul bought corn cakes across the street.

Jinja suffered badly during the Amin years and subsequent period of economic and political turmoil. Still, you can see that it was once beautiful. There is some really nice colonial era Asian architecture, complimented by thick and lush tropical vegetation, and surrounded by jungle. The buildings, however beautiful from a distance, are upon closer inspection bordering on slums. Nothing has been painted or cleaned in 30 years, windows are broken or missing, frames rusted, interiors are gutted, etc. Much of Uganda is this way. Nearly all of Mukono is the same. But again, my ankles and hips appreciated the sidewalks made of bricks. In the town center there was a small patch of muddy garden. In order to keep pedestrians off of it as they cross the street, they had strung barbed wire.

This is where in 1858 Stanley and Livingston argued over the exact location of the source of the Nile. (Dr. Livingston I presume?)

We took a boda to the site which has been designated the actual source of the Nile. This is a major tourist destination, although most of the tourists were from other African countries. To enter, it costs 2,000 Ush if you were Ugandan (black) and 10,000 Ush if you were not Ugandan (muzungu). We had a nice laugh over that. We get the Special Muzungu price everywhere we go.

Once off the road there is a series of steep steps down to the river, lined with merchants charging double for all of their wares. Still, it was pretty fascinating and I picked up a small wooden bowl. Paul and I hiked down to the water and took a few photos of the river. We were approached by a young black man who had a boat and offered to take us to the “exact location of the source” where the lake and the river merge. After a bit of haggling over money we got in his boat and off we went to a very small island. The young man was a wealth of information, showing us the marker in the water which is supposed to be the demarcation line between the lake and the river, telling us that it took water 3.5 months to travel from our location to the Mediterranean Sea, etc. In the distance we could see another island which houses the Ugandan federal prison. He also told us that we can take a boat from Jinja to Tanzania and enter Tanzania without a visa. It is cheap and takes 18 hours so I may do that before I leave here.

There are no Nile Crocodiles or Hippos at the mouth of the river because there is also a spring there that causes a hard current and it is too much work for them. So these animals are all in town, along the river. I hope to go back next weekend and do a horseback safari for a few hours to see them.

We left the Nile and took a boda on a longish ride to Bujagali Falls, and a thrilling series of grade five rapids below the falls. Our boda driver dropped us about a mile from the falls. As we walked the muddy road in, we passed a grazing bull that was tied by some sort of vine to a nearby tree. I told Paul that if he kissed the bull I would pay for his trip back to Mukono. I was really only kidding, but Paul slowly approached the seemingly docile bull and as he got within a few feet of him, the bull reared his head up and decided to charge Paul. Paul jumped back and out of the way, but I got a photo which is pretty darned funny. We laughed the rest of the way in. (Thank goodness for strong vines attached to the bull!) Paul said I should remember that he is Scottish and they will do anything for moneyJ

The falls are also a tourist destination and there were a couple busloads of Muslim children who all wanted their pictures taken. I asked one boy what his name was and he told me “Michael Jackson”. I yelled, “HEY EVERYONE WE HAVE MICHAEL JACKSON HERE!! and asked him to dance. He got embarrassed and all of the children cracked up. Still, several of them tried to moonwalk for me.

The falls are wild and dangerous but you can get quite close. I was shocked to see two men go through the falls hanging on to only empty jerry cans. As they make it through they wave and everyone cheers. Paul has decided to go on a raft trip out of Jinja next weekend (while I horseback safari) and he wants to do the jerry can trip through the falls and subsequent rapids. Ive tried talking him out of it because of the danger of what is IN the water, not just the strength of it. Everywhere I go I am warned not to touch the sand or the water because of the parasites in it. Paul however, is 24 and still believes himself to be bullet proof.

Speaking of bullets, there were several soldiers there. I got brave and asked if I could take their picture (which is supposed to be off limits). They said yes, and struck their meanest looks. I took a picture and then told them I wanted another, but I wanted them to smile. They didn’t want to smile so I told them I wanted to show American women just how handsome Ugandan men were, but that in order to do that they would have to smile. So they let me take two more pictures and they all sort of posed like models (with rifles) with big smiles on their faces. I then showed them their photos and they were pleased. Pardon me guys, but I think that young men are the same around the world. Anything for women!

There is a grass hut there where you can buy beer AND there were toilets!!! So we each bought a beer, hit the toilets, and braved another boda back into Jinja. We found a taxi and took off for Mukono. Ten minutes later the radiator overheated, we pulled over, everyone poured out of the taxi and they bought a couple bottles of water to pour into the radiator. We were off again for another 10 minutes when the van totally died. Still, the driver’s assistant demanded that Paul and I each pay him 5,000 Ush. The entire trip was supposed to be only 4,000 Ush and we were still an hour from Mukono! We refused and each gave him 2,000. Again, a Special Muzungu price. The other passengers apologized to us. Ugandan taxi and boda drivers embarrass the general populace since they are chronic rip off artists. Again…we waited in the sun for another taxi…which didn’t take too long.

It was dark when we returned and we walked to the Colline Hotel (where I am today) to get adult beverages before we completed the walk home in the dark. I ordered a run and coke. I got a rum and hot coke. I forgot. No ice here. Gaaaak!

We have all of next week off as it is report week for Beacon of Hope Uganda and we don’t report. We met some young people working at a nearby orphanage with 850 children. They are leaving on Monday so we will go visit the orphanage next week and perhaps work there. This orphanage is served by a doctor from Denver, CO who comes down three times per year and he is supposed to be there now. Katy the deaf teacher, will come from Bushenyi to stay with us the following week so she may be able to help as well. If there is time at the end of the week I may also venture over to Entebbe via the dreaded Kampala and see if I can get a boat over to the Ssese Islands. I understand the boat and hotel (the boat leaves once a day so you must stay there) is very expensive for muzungus but Ill find out before I go. The following week I believe we work in Gomba at another orphanage BoHU had to place children when our orphanage had to close for lack of funding.

I am also writing a concept paper next week for the Minister of SOMETHING to ask for money for land. He actually asked for the paper! I think we may have another donor lined up to partially pay for the actual building construction of an orphanage for us. Then all of the children can come home to their own district where many of them have relatives, even though those relatives cant take care of them (very elderly, or too young. ) Following that, I will work on finding an engineering organization to perhaps set up a water purification system for us, beds, etc. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I need to find money to purchase some sort of a used car so we can reach the villages more cheaply, and the ever present need for school sponsorships for our orphans. What I need, is to win the lottery.

Outta here now. I came to the hotel today with my computer in hopes of being able to pull down some internet on my mobile modem but nada nada lemonada. It now appears that about 40 people are about to be baptized in the hotel swimming pool…

* *

It is now morning. Last night a man came slowly up the road in front of where I live with a bull horn, announcing something that sounded rather desperate. Scovia said that he lives in the neighboring village and is announcing that his 10 year old daughter has disappeared. With all of the kidnappings for human sacrifice that has been going on, I am sure he is terrified.

Once a week a truck drives by playing the loudest possible music. The truck sells things like charcoal and plantains that are difficult for women to carry from the market. (Sort of the Ugandan version of Schwanns). This morning I was out front watching my neighbor children—in this case all of them are boys—when the truck started down our road. Most of the children move to the road and dance to the music as the truck approaches. This morning they are all wearing just tee shirts and no pants. These little kids can really dance even though they are all very young. So there danced all of the little boys…their little dingles danglingJ
Alice I have learned, is only 15 years old. She has completed grade 5. She now considers herself too old to be with that age group, even if she had money for school. I pay her 30,000 Ush or about $15 US per month, and Isaac and Scovia give her free room and board. She works for all of us from sun up to sun down, washing clothes, babysitting, cleaning, cooking… Of her 30,000 she receives each month she is saving 20,000 per month to go to beauty school and sends 10,000 to her mother. It could take her all of her life at $10 per month to get into beauty school. Still, if she can be trained as a beautician she will someday be able to support herself and her mother. I wonder if Isaac and Scovia will be able to pay her anything after I leave. I worry about her all of the time.