Entebbe!

August 30

It is the afternoon, I’m back in Mukono, and I am told the electricity has been out for the past day. We’ll see how long my computer battery lasts…

I left for Entebbe on Friday, with my backpack containing a clean shirt, a rain jacket, a change of underwear, my camera, 2 bottles of water and my toothbrush and hairbrush. I had money in the bottom of my pack, in my wallet (which is wired to the inside of my pack), and in my wristband. I figured if I were robbed at the taxi park, no one would get it all unless they were in no hurry. They would have to disrobe me to find my credit card.

All of my fears of the dreaded Kampala taxi park were for nothing, because I stupidly disembarked about 6 miles prematurely in a small taxi park in Nakawa. Nakawa serves Port Bell but has few taxis daily to Entebbe. I was in luck as there was ONE about to leave for the Entebbe Airport. I figured going to the airport would be fine. The traffic was horrendous, and it took over two hours to reach Entebbe. Once in Entebbe I noticed the difference between this town and any other I have found in Uganda. It has paved streets, clean sidewalks, lots of trees, and an actual park. I knew one of the things I wanted to do in Entebbe was to visit the Botanical Gardens so when I saw the sign I called “Stage!” and they let me off. Bad move. I should have read the entire sign. The sign was an advertisement for the Imperial Hotel at Botanical Gardens. I stood there feeling stupid but then. . .boda boda to the rescue!

In five minutes I was at the Botanical Gardens. The BG is a 75 acre preserve, originally the massive grounds of a very wealthy Dutch family (and later an English family) who imported plants from all over the world. I paid the Muzungu price to get in and started walking. Soon, a man who introduced himself as James caught up with me and told me that I didn’t want to walk alone. He said that he knew the gardens, was a botany student, and besides, he could take me into the jungle where the old Tarzan movies were made. Sale! Welcome aboard, James.

James pointed out every tree, shrub, monkey, bird, termite mound, and spider in the park. He showed me things I never would have seen had I been on my own. . . Chinese cinnamon, cinnamon, mahogany, every possible type of tropical tree, ironwood, you name it, it was here. We saw many monkeys and twice encountered wild dogs--once a set of pups with Nasty Mother nearby and James took a wide path around them. We climbed hills, walked to Lake Victoria’s shores, climbed more hills, stopped and sat, and James started looking ill. I noticed he had no water and it had to be over 100 degrees. When I asked about water, he shrugged it off.

As we entered the jungle I noted several bright blue bags hanging from trees in various areas. James told me that tsetse flies which cause river blindness are attracted to blue, and there were areas in the jungle containing heavy communities of the little buggers. The bags were intended to attract them to specific areas. Since I was wearing blue jeans, he steered me far from any of the blue bags. The jungle was incredible! It felt just like walking through Tarzan movie, with screaming African Gray parrots, African eagles, 200 foot vines, streams, swampy areas, velvet and Colombo(?) monkeys who also screamed our arrival. Tarzan and Jane must have worn lots of insect repellent.

A couple hours later we had hiked a good area of shore and I was pooped, but James was totally wiped out. I gave him 20,000 Ush and said goodbye. He was polite and said goodbye. As I left, I saw him sit on the ground, slumping shoulders, head hanging between his knees, and something told me something was seriously wrong. I went back and offered him my remaining water. He took it, but then looked worse. The problem, it turned out, was that James hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours. My guide had become an impromptu guide hoping for a tip large enough to purchase himself a meal. I was hungry and so invited James to lunch. We went to a Chinese garden restaurant. He ate all of his lunch and most of mine. He looked slightly better. He also thanked me so profusely that I was embarrassed.

I then asked around town for the solar panel production plant, but no one had heard of it. George to the rescue! He looked it up on the internet for me, but by the time I had the information it was the weekend. I will visit them the morning I leave for the states. If there is any possibility I could start some sort of solar light assembly project for them with our widows I would be ecstatic. I don’t have a lot of hope for that, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.

I chose to stay at The Boma Guesthouse and asked a boda boda to take me there. On the way, the boda driver pointed out local sites, including a large war memorial to no particular war, built by Arabs (I guess when you want to make a gift to another country, it needn’t make any sense.)

I arrived at The Boma. The Boma is located in a pretty, leafy suburb of Entebbe. At the entrance, there is a tall wooden wall squeezed between two round slabs of concrete. On the concrete is painted “The Boma”. In the center of that wooden wall is a door of perhaps only 4 foot high. There is only that munchkin-sized door, and a doorbell. I rang the bell and an armed guard opened the door, bent over to see me while making certain that I could see the rifle on his shoulder. I also had to stoop to go through the door, and entered Muzungu Heaven!!! The Boma is a series of small buildings surrounded by exquisitely manicured grounds. The interior is furnished in a cross between African and British Colonial, the staff is warm and welcoming, had a full bar (and ICE made out of mineral water!!!) and it is clean, clean, clean. The lobby is small, but cool and exceptionally comfortable, and behind the lobby is a library with books from all over the world for visitors. Each room had its own veranda, with two chairs each. Best of all, it had running water which meant a SHOWER and a TOILET . When I got to my room I was soooo excited to see a king sized feather bed w/canopy mosquito net, screens on the windows, and an electric fan. Finally, they have a first class restaurant (for guests only). I didn’t think I was hungry, but the owner pushed her spicy pumpkin soup at me and I inhaled it. It is owned and run by a very young Finnish couple, she a serious runner, and he, just plain serious. (As an aside, President Musevini’s Entebbe home is a stone’s throw from The Boma so I felt pretty darned secure.) I rinsed out my day’s shirt, changed, drank a Bailey’s on the veranda, and hit the sack. Slept like a dead woman.

On day two I knew I hadn’t spent enough time in Entebbe and decided to stay. I grabbed my pack and headed out for town in hopes of finding a Stanbeck Bank, which is the only bank in Africa that has reliable ATM machines. On the way, I stopped at the war memorial, which like everything else in Uganda is in ruin. The fountains are dry and the statues are encrusted with bird poop. Onward…I was walking up the street and was soon joined by William…

William, was Day 2’s version of James. Poor locals latch onto foreigners and hope to show them around for a tip. William is a music student and he knew where Stanbeck Bank was. He also purported to be a local expert (aren’t they all?) on the area animal preserve. Went to the bank and then took the long walk to the shoreline and the animal preserve. On the way, I saw a sign for the Jane Goodall Research Foundation and made mental note to stop there on my way back. William, his sisters and his mother were refugees from Rwanda. His father and brothers were murdered during the war. His mother has since died. He was shocked and pleased at the music on my Ipod. He figured I must be okay.

William led me on a 9 HOUR walking safari. True to his word, William knew every nook and cranny of the preserve, pointing out animals I never would have spotted had I been alone—like monkeys watching us from the trees. Some monkeys let us get pretty close, one momma velvet monkey with her baby hanging upside down from her belly actually threatened me. From a good distance we saw warthogs, water buffalo, lions, and rhinos (no elephants thanks to Idi Amin who managed to kill off most large animals in Uganda). Our only frightening moment came with an ostrich at the end of the day. The mammoth bird was at a distance eating. William started whistling and making noises, hoping it would lift her head so that I could get a photo. She not only lifted her head, she started running toward us, and ostriches can really move fast!! William grabbed my arm and we FLEW down a steep embankment and out of the way. The ostrich actually could have caught up with us but evidently decided the downhill was too much trouble.

We headed on down the hill to the shores of Lake Victoria and came across what I think he called a Monitor Lizard. This little monster was at least 4 foot long and perhaps 10 inches wide and moved like lightening. It crossed in front of us and moved so quickly I couldn’t grab my camera. I paid William 20,000 Ush, said goodbye, and headed back to the Jane Goodall Research Foundation. On the way I learned that I could spend the night on the preserve for $10 US. The preserve has waddle huts with grass roofs with mattresses in them, but no mosquito nets. I took a look and decided with no security, and the proximity of the lake, and the mosquitoes from the lake, that I would go back to The Boma instead. But were I 20 years old, with my own sleeping bag and mosquito net, and a bit stupid, I would have stayed there. Think of the animal sounds one could hear in those places at night!

A guard let me in at Goodall and I met some of the staff, telling them I knew a man who had been the USA director of the foundation. Whether they knew him or not (I couldn’t tell), they were most welcoming. Almost instantly I felt exhausted from the heat and the walking. I cut the visit short and headed back toward the Chinese gardens.

The walk to the Chinese gardens was hot and uphill. Sometimes I stopped in vendors’ shops simply to be able to stand in one place and cool down. About one block from the gardens a boda stopped. I told him I was only one block away from my destination and he started to leave. Then he stopped and said “get on, I will take you for free”. I must have looked like I felt. I got on, and he took me. I offered to pay him and he refused. Ya gotta love Ugandans.

As an aside, Amin’s former palace with pool, stables, landing strip, etc., is now the world’s nicest Army barracks.

Back to The Boma and Muzungu Heaven for the night. I took the worlds longest shower in the evening and then another in the morning just for good measure. This morning I took off in search of the Entebbe taxi park and after several wrong moves, found it. On the taxi I met a wonderful Ugandan woman who runs and orphanage in Gulu with 500 children. We talked all the way to Kampala and the DREADED KAMPALA OLD TAXI PARK. The woman from the bus insisted on staying with me until I was safely on a bus. Then she left.

As the taxi doors closed, a woman behind me slapped my shoulder and said “Get off”. I was startled and just looked at her. Then they all started yelling at the driver to stop and all told me to get off. It seems they were being helpful. Sometime between the time I got on and the time we left, the bus had decided not to stop in Mukono, but since I didn’t understand Luganda, I didn’t know. So I got off, wondering where in hell to find a bus to Mukono. In the end I found one and actually made it home at a reasonable hour. And I wasn’t robbed.

It started to pour down rain as soon as I arrived, and since there is no electricity I figured it must be nap time. Nothing like a good sleep in the rain provided you have an Ipod to drown out the sound of hard rain on your tin roof.