Fuck you, Hemingway! (Part II)

We started the day at 6:15am by picking up a simple breakfast and coffee before meeting the ferry. Sunrise on the White Nile - absolutely incredible! Quiet, calm, imperial... This, and the rest of the day, showed me why the colonialists strove to dominate this land, the ultimate conquest.

The safari (which means "journey") was indescribable, but I'm going to try anyway. Elephants, giraffe, baboons, African buffalo, warthogs... at one point, rumor of an elusive lioness spurred an impromptu off-road expedition. Alas, the lioness and her cubs had moved on.

The road was rough, but I couldn't sit - not even for a moment. I stood on my seat and leaned over the open roof of the van, jostled constantly but blind to the pain. At one point, I even climbed up and sat on the luggage rack. My ribs are bruised, my head concussed, but my spirit is soaring after our 4 hour game ride.

I now have a greater understanding of the nomenclature of Disney's "The Lion King." Lion=Simba, Warthog=Pumba, etc, etc.

We returned to the ferry for lunch, a shower, and a nap. Then we embarked on a boat tour of the Nile - hippos, elephants, crocodiles, and an array of gorgeous birds, including the ever-industrious kingfisher. Our tour guides were wonderful, and one of them was smoking hot!

I had a great conversation with one of the tour guides (not the hot one). He told me how all the animals - ALL (hippos and baboons especially), eat a certain type of fruit and are intoxicated by it. You could bitch-slap a fruit-drunken hippo but he will have no idea what's going on. I told him about elephants raiding a rice beer factory in Thailand and how they went on a drunken rampage afterward. The tour guide burst out laughing in the high-pitched Ugandan style, and immediately said "Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!" in an impersonation of the elephants' apologies the morning after. I surmised that the elephants probably saw humans doing it and thought they should too. He seemed surprised by this observation, but agreed that it must be so.

The boat tugged us upstream to the falls while we sipped "Nile" beer and Kate tried to control her disgruntled bowels. We passed a spot where Hemingway supposedly camped (hence the title of these posts), then we turned around and coasted downstream back to the ferry.

Adrienne's quote of the day: "Can you imagine how difficult it would be to butcher an elephant with a chainsaw? It would be impossible!" (Don't ask me how this became a topic of conversation...)

We had dinner and wine; afterward, Hannah and I smoked under the stars. After Hannah was dive-bombed by a firefly, she grew terrified of potentially larger predators sneaking up and eating us, so she ran into the cabin. I stayed; sprawled on the blanket, mesmerized by a meteor shower fanned with fast-moving equatorial clouds.

Let it be known: February 26, 2009, was the best day of my life to date.

Red Chile Camp

No power! Hooray for candlelight.

I go outside to administer the morning dose of bug spray and admire the pre-dawn sky. The constellations look different this close the equator and, due to a complete lack of light pollution, you can see myriad more stars. They look so close, like the most vivid of backdrops dangling just inches from my face. Strange, exotic birds are slowly waking all around me - and then a bat flies by, disarmingly close.

This moment is officially over.

Murchison Falls National Park - Red Chile Camp (aka Fuck You, Hemingway! Part 1)

After drinking heavily at Tuhende last night and staying up WAY too late (Adrienne didn't sleep at all due to jet lag), after "Operation Get Adrienne Laid After Her Dad Died" failed despite initial successes in stages 1 and 2, we rose early to go on safari. We could only find 2 bodas for the 4 of us and our packs, so we were forced to double up. A mzungu jogger passed as we were climbing onto the bikes, saying: "Please be careful on those things." I wanted to slap her silly. As if she'd ever even TRIED the locals' primary mode of transport! She probably had her own car and driver, behind the barbed wire and walls of her husband's compound.

Anyway, she totally cursed us because Adrienne and Hannah's boda tipped over immediately. The driver recovered admirably, no one was hurt, and we made it to Red Chile-Kampala in good time.

The bus ride took HOURS. Overall, it was fairly comfortable despite the 107 speed bumps (I'm not exaggerating: 107). We had lunch at a ghetto cafe in Masindi. You can learn a lot about a culture in its restaurants. Useful Discovery #4: In Uganda, most of the items on the menu are unavailable. The waitress will politely take your order, go to the kitchen, and return to your table 20-40 minutes later, saying only: "The salad is finished." Or, "The sandwiches are finished" in her soft Ugandan accent. You pore over the menu a second time, finally saying, "Um, okay, can I get the french fries?" The waitress laboriously writes this on her pad of paper, goes to the kitchen, and returns about 45 minutes later saying: "The french fries are finished." Using your strong powers of deductive reasoning, you finally ask, "What ISN'T finished?" and she looks at you blankly, as if you're speaking Latin.

The poverty level really hit me during our drive through the countryside. Cow dung huts and thatched roofs, women all wearing identical dresses cut from the same 19th century puff-sleeved patterns, schoolchildren in their matching uniforms, "strip malls" all painted either yellow or hot pink, all selling cell phone minutes. Women with babies in arm, balancing loads on their heads. Slogans painted on homes, with handmade designs saying "good is life" and other surprisingly positive mottoes. It made me hate my ungrateful, over-entitled American self.

Africa has turned my misanthrope inward.

We shared a bus with 2 world-traveling Canadian/Afrikaners (whose return flight to North America was scheduled to depart from India in 11 months), 2 Scots, and 1 Kiwi. As we approached the van that would take us from Kampala to the Red Chile Camp at Murchison Falls, I could see the 5 of them stiffen and sigh when they realized 4 American girls were riding with them. One of the Scottish women still refuses to look me in the eye.

Upon arriving at camp, we learned of an optional and inexpensive upgrade from a tent to a bungalow. We immediately threw the concept of "roughing it" to the wind at the thought of having a shower and a toilet. We encountered 2 massive spiders and a teeny tiny shower gecko named Eugene, but for the most part the wildlife prefers to stay outside. We rationalized our upgrade by deciding that it's a higher quality vacation for Kate, who's stressed, and SAFER because she isn't taking anti-malaria pills.

So strange... warthogs roam at will through our camp. They scavenge with their snouts to the ground, their front legs bent at the joint to allow them easier ground access. Hippos migrate through the camp at night, when it's quiet. I haven't seen them do this, and I've been cautioned to keep my distance. Apparently hippos and water buffaloes are the most dangerous animals in the preserve. Who'da thunk?

In Kampala and making jet lag my bitch

I took some Mogodin last night and slept like the dead. I'll take some tonight, and hopefully my jet lag will be cured. No waking up at 4am for me!

I woke up late under my mosquito net and felt stiff but refreshed. Kate's flat is very nice - clean and cozy, very light and airy despite the bars over the windows and the iron cage over the door (the apartment complex used to be military barracks). I drank some coffee and ate some fresh fruit, stretched a bit, and then went for my first boda ride!

The primary mode of transportation in Uganda is the motorcycle-taxi, aka the boda-boda. Motorcycle drivers wait at "stages," where you negotiate a price to your nearest destination. As a "mzungu" (white person), you can automatically assume that you're being charged at least double (probably triple). Luckily, Kate is adept at haggling with boda drivers... and off we went! There's nothing more exhilarating than buzzing through heavy traffic and innumerable pedestrians at break-neck speed on the back of a motorcycle!

Apparently, it's bad etiquette to actually touch the boda driver. As a single rider, it's possible to avoid contact by gripping onto the seat underneath your tush. But when doubling with another rider, it's impossible not to be pressed from crotch to shoulder against the driver.

3 people on 1 motorcycle? Does that freak you out? Imagine 5 or 6, AND their groceries/live chickens/newly purchased pieces of furniture?

I am the Paris Hilton of Uganda. I was wearing a skirt and was loathe to ride "side-saddle" on the boda. Instead, I reached between my legs and pulled the extra fabric of my skirt forward between my thighs, creating an improvised pair of shorts so I could swing my leg over the seat of the boda. It's possible that I inadvertently flashed my hoo-hoo to a crowd of Ugandans standing nearby. Oh, well. I was wearing very large underwear so it's doubtful they saw anything!

We ate at La Fontaine, the cafe Kate used to live above when she first moved to Kampala (Kisamente). My palate was boggled by a salad that consisted of fresh avocados, mangoes, and BACON!!!! It rocked my world. Afterwards, we bought souvenirs and kitty litter at the market across the street.

Useful Discovery #3: white people all look alike to Ugandans. It's so funny to me, how relative everything is. My boda driver asked if Kate, Adrienne, and I were sisters because we "resemble in face and size." We don't look AT ALL alike, in face OR size. But I decided not to fight it and replied, through my laughter: "You should see our mother!"

London-Dubai-Addis Ababa-Entebbe (aka "If only I could sleep sitting up")

Emirates is the best airline EVER! I especially love that there are light-up constellations on the ceiling when they dim the cabin for sleeping hours.

The airport in Dubai looks like a space bubble. I've never been to a more luxurious, ginormous, busy airport in my life. Even the restrooms glisten with the hygienic gleam of the future... weird.

Adrienne and I watched the sun rise over Dubai as the plane descended, and we started to get really excited! It's finally starting to feel real... we've ditched frigid North America in mid-February and escaped to sunnier climes! I immediately ran to the nearest restroom and swapped my sneakers and sweater for flip flops. It's 28 degrees Celsius!

For the eleventy-fifth time, we boarded a plane. Somewhere between Dubai and Addis Ababa, I lost my will to live (photograph omitted due to its inherently unflattering nature).

After a (relatively) short layover in Ethiopia, we arrived in Entebbe about 2:30pm. Ethiopia was very dry and brown from my aerial vantage point, which made me quite nervous, but flying into Entebbe, I saw Lake Victoria! This lake is so huge that it creates its own weather patterns. It's the second largest freshwater lake in the world, second only to Lake Baikal in Siberia. Baikal always evaded me, but Victoria was quite welcoming. Everything was lush and green; the soil red like in Oklahoma, but slightly more orange.

Ethiopia, from the plane window (looks a bit dry, huh?)

Lake Victoria!

Our descent into Entebbe airport, Uganda

Kate met us at the airport, after screaming at a gaggle of taxi drivers like a true expat. The 45 minute drive from the airport to Kate's flat in Kampala (Bugalobi Flats) was indescribable, to say the least. My favorite part of any trip is the ride from the airport to the destination, staring jet lagged through the car window at the new land surrounding you, watching the unfamiliar airport terrain morph into unfamiliar suburban terrain, and then into unfamiliar urban terrain. It's calming to sit back in the taxi and watch the country zoom by, comforted by the knowledge that a) you've survived the hellish travel required to arrive at this destination, and b) you have a whole vacation ahead of you in a strange new world.

NYC - London

Thankfully, the British children were quite well behaved! So polite... even the ones who got sick and fainted from motion sickness were quietly apologetic.

I can't sleep on planes. It's completely impossible. I normally sleep curled up on my side - I can't sleep sitting up! When my head nods forward, my neck jerks and I find myself incurably awake. I slept for maybe 20 or 30 minutes during the 7 hour flight, and spent the remainder of my time watching movies or reading.

Upon our arrival at Heathrow, Adrienne and I wandered around for quite some time, searching for a lounge to spend our 8 hour layover in. We paid $60 for the privilege of hanging out in the AA lounge, and the miraculously hot showers made it worth every penny. After cleaning up, I found a recliner in the sleeping/reading room and was actually able to fall asleep. Beautiful, wonderful sleep!

THEN some dumbfuck Americans decided to tromp into the designated quiet room. They were shuffling around, chewing, rustling newspapers, clinking coffee cups onto the glass table tops, opening cans of Coke, cracking their knuckles, booting up their laptops - all while WHISPERING to one another. What's the point in whispering? Why feign common courtesy when you're waking 5 sleeping people?

I have never wanted so much to maim and/or kill in my life. Damn these Americans and their sense of entitlement, their blind belief that they deserve better than the communal snacking area (which was, incidentally, empty), that they are due a still corner in a room of weary travelers, so they can crunch their chips and slurp their Cokes!

At first, I wasn't sure they were Americans (they were whispering, after all). But I knew, just from their demeanor, that they were my countrymen. And then they spoke louder, buoyed by their successful entrenchment in the sleeping room (after all, no one had kicked them out yet! Why not speak louder?), and it was clear they were from the States.

To be honest, in my jet-lagged fog, I did feel guilty (kind of) about the vehemence of my reaction to their invasion. I writhed in my chair, shooting them the iciest of slumber-disturbed glares. Oh, they noticed. And they tried to be slightly quieter, I think, but they sucked at it. They made no move to leave. This was eminent domain in its simplest incarnation.

I realized, while laying there and fuming, that my first reaction to any stranger is annoyance and hostility, born of sheer misanthrope most likely. Even if they are undeserving, I still react in such a way. As I write this, a large huffing and wheezing businessman has attempted to enter the room twice, and both times I have deflected him on the threshold with a no-nonsense scowl from my recliner. He glances at me with trepidation; like a wild dog asking entrance to a new pack's den, he hovers to the side of the door and peeks around the corner with uncertainty and longing.

I am a jerk.

Instead of being open to people, I am almost instinctually hateful. My first reactions (to almost anything) are negative. Granted, I see the positive side quite quickly (usually within a matter of minutes) and I acclimate accordingly. I will warm up eventually - just give me time.

How can I eliminate this knee-jerk reaction? People who react this way to me hurt my feelings; I am fully aware of the needlessness of my spite. But how? Adrienne is so open and kind to new people; she is genuinely interested in their stories and enjoys the interaction. Her family is the same way - no surprise, when comparing our responses, that I was raised by a loner who distrusts all humankind. I guess I could have turned out worse! At least I open up with time!

But now I feel slightly validated. Adrienne just woke up in her neighboring recliner, glanced over at the noisy Americans, and hissed: "They're real assholes." She hates them too! They must be awful people, then!

Ok, so maybe I wasn't over-reacting this time? Maybe they deserved it...

Reading notes: Maria Theresia von Parades, "amaurosis nervosa."

NYC - Brooklyn and the Village

We had breakfast in a bustling dinner in Adrienne's Sunset Park neighborhood. The diner was incredibly small but I was amazed at its economy of space. I was a little scared of the waitresses, but damn they were efficient! On the menu over the counter, there were photos of the diner's "famous" dishes. Believe me, these pictures were less than appetizing. The sausages resembled fingers and fecal matter - the quality of the photos did the food no justice. As long as you avert your eyes from the pictures while eating, you'll be fine.

Sustained, we went to Greenwich Village for an afternoon of pampering before our big flight. We got manicures, pedicures, foot and shoulder massages for a mere $60! It was AWESOME! I had to squelch my feelings of guilt as a tiny Cambodian woman scraped dead tissue off the bottom of my feet (Useful Discovery #2 - don't feel bad, they want your money. This lesson will prove very useful in the formal colonialist Uganda). The women working there seemed quite happy, gossiping with one another in their native language. They often pointed to our feet, falling into a deep discussion before bursting into laughter. It was a little unnerving, but totally worth it to get our winterized feet in flip-flop-wearing condition for Africa. We had Grey's Papaya hot dogs for lunch then went home, showered, and watched "Love Actually" while eating pizza. We almost missed the taxi to JFK at 8:45pm... Adrienne has a hard time turning off an unfinished movie, but finally conceded that it would be ridiculous to miss our flight to Africa just so we could watch the last 10 minutes of a movie she'd already seen.

At JFK, while waiting for our flight, I noticed an enormous crowd of people at the far end of the terminal. Squinting a bit, I could see they were moving closer. As they neared our gate in the almost empty terminal, I began to get nervous. It was a group of about 30-35 preteens, escorted by a few overwhelmed adults. I looked at the other waiting passengers and saw they were all exchanging anxious glances. When the massive group of British kids stopped right in front of our gate, we all sighed with resignation. It seems to be a prerequisite for any international flight - a massive group of children in some way, shape, or form. What else had we expected, really?

Adrienne and I headed straight to the only open airport bar.

MCI - Terminal A

My very first flight is delayed, rendering my connecting flight to New York impossible. I can't help but think that this does not bode well for the 47 OTHER flights I have to catch to get to Africa by Monday.

Luckily, they booked me an even better flight: a nonstop to Laguardia on the in-flight cookie-baking airline, Midwest! I only have to wait over 3 hours to catch my new flight. With a 24 hour layover in NYC, an 8 hour layover in London, and shorter layovers in Dubai and Ethiopia, I may as well get used to killing time in airports. Useful Discovery #1: time flies when you're drinking over-priced cheap wine! Problem solved.

I sobered up (a little) just in time to go through security, but promptly got drunk again on the plane. The flight was relatively empty except for the screaming 3 year old girl in the seat directly in front of me. I'd seen her and her father in the terminal - they'd been waiting far longer than I for this flight, and she was exhausted. Her lungs, unfortunately, were just getting started. I quickly learned that I could silence her by making faces at her. The flight attendant noticed what I was doing just as I was starting to run out of ideas, and brought me a free glass of wine to "repay" me for quieting the screaming child. Of course, I had to continue - the whole flight was counting on me!

Now my face is sore.

Finally, after a breathless taxi ride from LaGuardia to Adrienne's apartment in Brooklyn, my travels for the day were finished. We drank beer and played Rock Band before going to bed around 2am.

Дети Picasso - Африка (Песня Красной Шапочки)

Если долго долго-долго
Если долго по тропинке
Если долго по дорожке
Топать, ехать и бежать
То, пожалуй, то, конечно,
То наверно верно-верно
То возможно можно-можно
Можно в Африку придти
А-а в Африке реки вот такой ширины
А-а в Африке горы вот такой вышины
А-а крокодилы, бегемоты
А-а обезьяны, кашалоты
А-а и зеленый попугай
А-а и зеленый попугай
Но как только только-только
Но как только на дорожке
Но как только на тропинке
Встречу я кого-нибудь
То тому, кого я встречу
Даже верю верю-верю
Не забуду буду-буду
Буду "здрасьте" говорить
А-а, здравствуйте реки вот такой ширины
А-а, здравствуйте горы вот такой вышины
А-а крокодилы, бегемоты
А-а обезьяны, кашалоты
А-а и зеленый попугай
А-а и зеленый попугай
Но, конечно, но, конечно,
Если ты такой ленивый
Если ты такой пугливый
Сиди дома, не гуляй
Никуда тебе дороги
Косогоры горы-горы
Бури, ряки, реки, раки
Руки-ноги береги
За-а-чем тебе море вот такой ширины
За-а-чем тебе небо вот такой вышины
А-а крокодилы, бегемоты
А-а обезьяны, кашалоты
А-а и зеленый попугай
А-а и зеленый попугай
А-а в Африке реки вот такой ширины
А-а в Африке горы вот такой вышины
А-а крокодилы, бегемоты
А-а обезьяны, кашалоты
А-а и зеленый попугай
А-а и зеленый попугай

zeniths

Nothing to say,
I am content.
Dreaming upright,
Floating outright.
I am alive,
Nothing to say.