Masks

Finally finished finishing (applied a couple layers of Tung oil to protect the wood) the Congolese mask i bought in Uganda last year and placed it next to the mask i bought in Costa Rica this year. On the left is a mahogany fertility mask from the Songa tribe in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (possibly this place?). On the right is a Boruca ceremonial mask carved from balsa wood by Gonzalez. The Boruca mask was used in the "Danza de los Diablitos" ceremony which reenacts the European invasion and repression of the natives, and as the ceremony is very physical, the mask is missing a tooth.

More Sights

Rented a car and drove around the Costa Rican countryside for a few days. If you still think rollercoasters are fun, try driving through Latin American mountains sometime. Narrow bridges, cliffs, washouts, passing around mountain corners - American Mountains don't really compare, though if you find yourself doing an inversion while driving you may be wishing you were safely attached to a track.

Driving also provides the opportunity to stop where i want, and so have been able to take the following typical photos.




Standard volcano/lake scene. That's Arenal Volcano, which is visible from La Fortuna, provided you get there during the daytime, and which, if you ask "what city am i in?" while in Fortuna, you will be pointed out "didn't you see the volcano?", as if a volcano is visible from only one city.




Llanos de Cortes waterfall, just outside of Bagaces but far enough off the road that it is a very tranquil place to visit. It is one of the prettiest waterfalls i've seen.




Standard sunset beach scene, as seen from Playa Hermosa, Guanacaste.

Perspectives

Rafting down the Pacuare River in Costa Rica, swimming through the calmer parts, canyon walls and waterfalls on either side.





I've seen these scenes a million times from the riverbanks and overviews, never from in the river. It's quite a change of perspective and i enjoy the new take on old views.

It was relatively safe - our guide fell in the river within the first ten minutes but pulled himself back in quick enough, and a Spanish woman almost fell in but held on to the side and we pulled her in just before she was crushed between the raft and a very large boulder. Yup, safe enough for anyone to try.

Travel Plans

In Italy, and all i can think about is how much i'd rather be in Mexico or Zambia. Still, Rome is a nice enough place.

Yer out!

Had i been on that plane, there would have been one survivor - work has warned me that i'm not allowed to die or otherwise have anything bad happen to me. Instead, my relation to current events has me stranded in Zagreb for a day, a result of the immovable force known as the Italian strike. Had i been more on the ball, could have checked out Ljubljana, but in the wee hours of my Zagreb arrival, was not comprehending which country was on strike (how could i wonder?)

Wandered around Zagreb, a city i've wandered around in the past - at least this time an old man did not proposition me within the first ten minutes of my arrival. Went to a sculptor's museum and saw how a three dimensional artform can become a two dimensional work.

Added a couple k's of liquid to my pack, wonder how customs will like that.

Listened to a Belgian complain to me about graffiti, and brag that Belgium has none. That country's not even 12,000 square miles, probably can't find anything decent to tag - not that i support mindless sparypaint, the main variety found in these parts.

And now just wait. And wait. And wait, for the first post-strike train to Venice.

Everyone's Hero...

...except the hooligans. Bruce Lee was gone, having been desecrated after a football match. Back next season, after a thorough cleaning and repairs. Perhaps i will be too, if the Kosovo vote fairs well.

Rebirth

I remember my youth. So well, in fact, that my memory exagerates events exponentially, as any frequent and astute reader will be aware of. But even my over-active memories of my own experienced civil war are no match for the history lessons available by walking the streets of Mostar.

Sure, a number of buildings have been full repaired, no visible damage whatsoever. But a number of inhabited buildings still show the bullet holes and shell damage of recent history. And peppered between both of these, the empty husks of buildings, glass shattered, walls appearing as a strange war-time stucco.

Ah, life.

Is there an architecture school that teaches to build for civil war? To consider not just what the building will look like immediately upon completion, but upon destruction too? All my life i have been shown the end result, the death toll of countless buildings. Did the Colliseum architect, Pompeii's legions, the Mayans, the Khmer, consider what their structures would look like, covered with lava, dirt, trees, time?

Bucharest, Day 1

Slept 12 hours, despite the usual hostel racket. Finally no winesap worries, no koolwhip concerns. Wandered aroun the rest of the day. Hurried activities prior to my departure helped me forget my compass, but still i maintained a fair sense of direction. This town is nice enough, standard Eastern European city. More Belgrade than Prague.

I think the scale on my maps is off by a factor of two, else i'm terribly out of walking shape. Enough English spoken here, getting around is rather easy, though eating still a bit difficult. The language holds many similarities to Italian, but different enough i'm not sure what kind kind of chicken that was. Still, the language, coupled with the Roman alphabet, makes sign reading, and thus getting around, rather easy.

Safety First

Going through immigration as i'm leaving de, the officer asks, "Only in Germany for one day? Where are you going to now?" "To Bucharest." "Romania? Be Safe."

What's so dangerous about Romania? Oh, excepting maybe the roaming packs of stray dogs that even killed a tourist last year. Get some Thai over there, that problem's gone in a couple weeks. I've had my rabies shots and instictively protect my jugular... usually. I think i'll be ok.

Partial Arrival

Uneventful flight. The days leading to vacation left me so exhausted that i missed watching 2 movies i'd yet to see - listened to them as i slept, but from what i've learned in my class, that doesn't count.

In Frankfurt, managed to push the right buttons to get a train ticket from the airport. Don't know where exactly i am, just hopped on the first train. It's a lazy Sunday afternoon, i'm the only one in an Italian restaurant. Eating a penne boscaiola, though no meat. Pasta is a little overdone, but this is a Calabrese restaurant and i do not know their style.

Called in a reservation from the airport - i'll be staying at Butterfly Villa Hostel the first couple nights in Bucharest. I don't care much for hostels, despite enjoying each one i've stayed at, especially Backpacker's Hostel in Kampala. I recommend that over any $$$ hotel i've been in. Well, except maybe one in Switzerland.

I'm off to battle keyboards, and hopefully find my way back to the flughafen.

Ssh

Got ssh to work on my phone. For those of you who aren't jumping with joy right now, this means i can pretty much do all of my work from my phone. Sure, it's a little on the slow side, but i'm used to working from places like the Gobi Desert, Chanchamayo, and Kisoro, so it's not that slow.

Took a bit to figure out, mostly because i didn't do my research properly. Instead i contacted T-Mobile tech support, and they graciously helped me through my problems and directed me to the faq and forum i should have noticed in the first place.

Africa Photos

For lunch i had one of my favourite pitas and rewrote my script to make the montages more circular. Here is a comparison of various stages:




This montage is made up of 1502 photographs which is all i took on my last vacation. The center is photos of mountain gorillas, the edges are mostly birds around lakes. Now you've seen what i saw in east Africa.

I haven't sorted them yet, will do that over the weekend and then begin editing some 1000 photos from my last 3 trips.

Peru Montage, Take II

Ok, figuring out a simplistic spiral wasn't that tough, fit well into lunchtime:


The pattern (and the problems with the algo) becomes more apparent the smaller you go:


The images also need to be sorted better - using the mean instead of average of the pixel values should help a lot. Next time. And the time after that, maybe recognize the pattern inside each image.

Photos from Peru

Remember Christmas? I started looking through my photos from my Winter vacation.



Sure, same boring montage of the selected images as i did with the Mongolia photos. If my brain were up to it i'd montage them in a spiral fashion after some other Peruvian relics; for now the simplistic algorithm rules the night.

Either i've misplaced my photos from back in Lima or i didn't take any, who knows. Again as with the Mongolia photos, i'll get around to editing them Later.

Mongolia, revisited

Finally sorted through the images i took during my summer vacation in 2006 and made a montage from the unedited images. Sometime Later i'll get around to editing them all as well. I think i'm missing some, but maybe my memory is sketchy.

My Other Job

What i was working on before i left:


It's a two-sided picture frame, took me a few months (ideas come quick, real work is tough) but finished it before i left. The outside is a simple red oak with an inside groove wide enough to hold a piece of glass, white matte board, newspaper, black matte board, and the cut wood (also red oak veneer). The Japanese girls i met while traveling in Kenya said the characters were indeed very legible.


What i'm working on now:


Yes that's me, and from the length of the hair, the Cass beer in my hand and the dry, rocky plains surounding me, you can tell i'm in the Gobi Desert, Mongolia. Figured it was time i went through some of those old travel photos, not to mention i have a Plan for some of them.

(so the French guy we were travelling with says to me, "Why do you Americans feel the need to wear shirts and caps proclaiming where you're from?" I look at his Quechua brand jacket and bag and respond, "Why do you feel the need to advertise a native language from my home country?")

Bella Roma

Spent yesterday walking around and eating pizza at various sites - Vatican City, Piazza del Popolo, Termini, Villa Borghese, the Pantheon, the Colloseum.

Met Maudy (friend from high school) about the old times, the new times, the differences between the two, traveling, staying put, and all those things that you can only talk to with someone who knew you in high school and has also bounced around the world.

Were a couple relaxing days; even found a bar i went to once a few years ago that served a great pint of Guinness (and they still do), and a new bar that does the same.

Time to go home.

Moving Backwards

It rained the mornings of my last couple days in Ugandan, which slowed me down a little (no fun riding on the back of a moped in the rain). Eventually Monday afternoon came and i headed off to the airport. 2 hour flight to Addis Ababa, 4.5 hour wait there (and there's no place in transit to change money, and the food/drink joints don't take Ugandan Shillings or make change for large US bills), finally an 8 hour flight to Rome, arriving at 6am.

Somehow my bag gained 6kg and walking around downtown looking for the hostel i'm staying in is no fun, but i finally found the place, and it's nice enough, though i'm paying the same amount that i paid for 4 rooms and access to a pool in Nairobi.

I wonder why i'm in Rome again, it's a nice enough place, i like to wander around and sit and nap around town. A good lazy end to the vacation, i guess.

Sunday Stories

I was going to buy some fancy dishes and flatware. Other choice was hiring someone to paint my house. A high quality table saw, or a road bike for summer transport. Instead, i bought a ticket to Africa. Stupid work, making me take vacation. Will have to continue using the 3 mismatched plates and bowls, paint the house myself, hand saw everything (and rig my own jigs), and continue to bike to work on the same run-down mountain bike (hopefully a little better when i get back).

The French guy who manages Bussi Island tells me a story: he's running Bussi Island as a place to relax, and would like for the employees to relax too. He's tried: when the mid-afternoon sun comes out and the heat reaches its peak, he tells the gardner to take a break, come back in an hour. The guy disappears for the rest of the day. The next day, when the French guy asks what happened, the employee apologetically says, "Boss, i can't work with a break, i can't handle it, i need to only work from 6 - 7 straight." This lines up with something John told me, that Africans don't have the concept of vacation. Maybe i'm Ugandan at heart.

Nice Hike

Hell's Gate. A little less impressive than the name suggests, it's rather dusty. There's a nice gorge, and a side gorge off of that where part of Tomb Raider was filmed (second country i've seen that in). Not sure the Japanese girls were anticipating the roughness of hiking-through-riverbed (including jumping-through-small-waterfall).

After lunch, stopped at a souvenir shop and enjoyed the Japanese haggling for a bargain that wasn't there - it was an overpriced shop.

A couple hours later we were back in Nairobi.

Jimmy Stories

Get some beer in Jimmy, out come the good tourist stories. Note that by definition these stories may be prejudiced, stereotyped, anecdotal, etc, etc.

He mentions that you don't mess with the wishes of Israeli tourists - they want to do what they want, e.g. find their own way up the mountain, no need for a guide, or stop to camp in the middle of the savanah, forget the prepaid hotel. Don't cross one or all are against you. Do what they want no matter what, they'll always have your back and treat you well at the end. Each one carries a knife (who doesn't??) and for every ten there will be a gun that they brought via airplane (take it apart, each one takes a tenth of the parts).

Germans like to drink, will even want to skip the next day at the world famous park in order to head to the closest town for many beers.

Chinese tourists have few manners, each one will stop on his own time to go to the bathroom, even wanting to stop minutes after someone already stopped for this (and they don't bother walking off to the bush to piss, they'll go right in front of the bus). They like large lenses on their cameras, making you stop and turn off the vehicle, and yelling for everyone to stop moving so they can get the shot. And they bring their own food (don't try the noodles).

Japanese, always an old man who wants to sit right in the front of the bus, and always must have the seatbelt on. Luckily will translate for the rest of the bus (hey! that's one i know, somehow i managed to be the person who was able to best understand Irish, Japanese, Australian and Kenyan English and thus translate between the 7 others when necessary).

Beware pissing off matatu (east African minibus) drivers that you hire to drive you around, they may get you drunk, steal your money, and leave you in the middle of nowhere.

Good times in Kenya

Drive around Lake Nakuru park. Pink flamingos, rhinos (white), bufallos, girafes, baboons, rock hyrax, etc, etc. Is a very nice park, nice view, even has the remnants of a water road used in the fliming of Out of Africa (a popular movie in these parts).

After lunch, the Irish girls head off to climb Mount Kenya, a mountain that stradles the equator yet has numerous glaciers on top of it. The 3 of us go on to Lake Naivashu. We arrive early enough to wander around the town a bit. Jimmy, the driver, found a hotel for us and took off, saying he'd be back in 2.5 hours to take us to find food, so we have some time to walk.

And so i find myself leading 2 Japanese girls around a dirt poor town that i've never been in. Even better, they're both wearing facemasks (the thin white paper kind you see doctors wearing) and snapping photos of everything. After aimlessly walking around, we stop in a local joint (Jolly Pub, iirc) for a drink before supper. A nice enough place, the bar has bars around it to prevent people from reaching over and stealing everything. The pub even comes with the standard drunk, and he even speaks English about as well as the standard drunk in the States.

Missing Trades

Feel so much better - only felt ill this morning, not like i was dying.

Another game drive, then we head off. At one stop i trade my carbiner and 300KSh for a rosewood rhino - these folks like their trading, and i like that. The guy originally wanted 2500KSh for the rhino. The carbiner cost me about $1, so i think i did good. Except that i've no carbiner now.

Lily asks me if i can fix her tripod. Get as far as i can, then realise i need my leatherman for something neither a sword nor a club can do. Show her what to do once she has the appropriate tools. Reminds me that i helped fix Barbara's camera yesterday, and almost needed the leatherman's scissors for that. If i did now, i wouldn't be able to fix their camera either. Oh well, no need to guess what my fix purchase upon return will be. I'll have a number 2 engraved on the new one.

Lily takes off to look for Mountain Gorillas in Rwanda or Uganda. I've told her i've heard there's a long wait in those places, but none for seeing them in DRCongo, she doesn't want to go. The 5 of us contine on to a nice hotel in Nakuru. Nice, but still rough around the edgesç the sink drains into a pipe that runs into the wall, then down to a hole at the bottom of the wall, and from that hole, into a hole in the floor, the same hole the shower drains into.

A Note About the Leatherman

No, it's not stolen, or lost, that i am aware of.

If you see a leatherman with my name and website on it and it's not in my hands, please note i traded my leatherman and 700KSh for a Masai sword and club. Traded it with Alex, Tony's younger brother. Aren't those dandy Masai names?

Feel odd without my leatherman at my side, can only imagine that Alex feels the same without his weapons (though he should still have a spear handy). Feel a certain helplessness - without that tool, preparations, scenarios, change.

Tuesday, more pain.

Stomach still cramping. Drove around more bumpy roads, more gazelles, *beestes (gnu's, even), jackals, zebras, giraffes, elephants, and this time hippos, a single crocodile, and a few black rhinos in the Tanzanian distance.

Towards the end of the day we stopped at the Masai Mara village located just outside the park gate. 1000KSh gets us a grand tour of the place and allows photo-taking. Among other things, the money goes towards a school they built for the surrounding community, paying the 4 teachers (just elementary school, for anything else long distance travel and boarding is necessary). Still feel odd about taking photos of the people.

My stomach started feeling much better towards the end of the day.

Masai Mara Day 1

Despite being feverish and having a stomach ache to die for, managed to book myself this safari. 3 days Masai Mara, 1 day Nakuru, 1 day Naivashu. They picked me up at 8:30am (really didn't want to get out of bed, quite ill), after which (in order) we pickd up Lily (Australian, traveling for about a year) and Satoko and Ryoko (Japanese, travelling for 1 day), and then met Barbara and Joanne (Irish, travelling for a couple weeks). We arrived at the Masai Mara park around 4 and promptly saw elephants, zebras (note the soft "e"), lions, hyenas, giraffes, and all manner of gazelles and birds (though no one save me seemed interested in the birds, or any smaller creatures). Was a good day, though the bumpy ride did nothing for my terrible stomach ache (fever was left in Nairobi).

About that illness - yes something i ate in Kampala threw me for a rougher ride than any African road possibly could. I know i'm supposed to assume a fever is malaria, but think i've had food poisoning enough to recognize what it is. Luckily was feverish for just Saturday and Sunday - today only my stomach hurts. A lot. Felt like vomiting most of the time, but kept it away. Had to hold back other unwanted flows the rest of the time. Ah, how i love travelling.

Our campsite is a very nice place. Permanent (cement floors) large tents. Masai warrior guard, also keeps the campfire going (it's quite chilly at night). Running water, even hot. Would have electricity but the generator is out. I was expecting something more like the Mongolian Gobi Desert Excursion - by comparison this is very luxurious.

Kenya, Day 1

Early wake, though woke many times to the sounds of barking dogs. Felt better at first, but after breakfast slowly went downhill. Perhaps the milk or the juice? Short flight to Nairobi, but with this stomach, surely better than the 12 hour busride. Had emailed for a room reservation the night before, it went through. I've arranged for a safari starting tomorrow - the info desks at the airport are there to sell us stuff. Unsure of the details of the safari, was through a feverish haze, but i think it sounded good.

Walked around Nairobi a bit. Maybe not the best to do in this condition, supposed to be a bit dangerous, nicknamed "Nairobbery". Can it be that much worse than any other 3rd world city?

First impression: Nairobi is to Kampala as Bangkok is to Phnom Pehn.

Couple Points

Things i miss: my keyboard, my cats, my bike, making stuff.

Notable differences between Uganda and the States: bodaboda transport (cheap rides on the back of aggressively-driven mopeds/motorcycles), no street lights (remember Ann Arbor during the blackout?), very rough sidewalks (if there are any) with open 4+' holes in various places, very loose traffic rules, almost all Americans i meet are missionaries, or missionary-related.

More Kampala Walking

Back to that mall for some trinkets. Food Court is very different - first you sit in the court, various waiters bring you menus from the 6 food joints & you order from them. Eventually they bring you food (quite a wait just for a couple veggie spring rolls). I prefer the ordering-food-out-of-bus-window routine.

Tomorrow i fly to Nairobi, haven't arranged a hotel or anything there yet.

lazy friday too

Spent much time looking at crafts. Ate at a local joint run by a man named Abdullah. Says he spent 6 months in a Monroe jail, something to do with taking his kid back home, in disagreement with the mother in Detroit.

Bought a ticket to Nairobi for Sunday.

John picked me up later in the evening & ate dinner with his family at their home in Entebbe. The house is on a large plot of land, though he says it's small compared to older plots. They grow bananas, oranges, tangerines, mangoes, vegetables and chickens in the back.

Later in the evening his son (also named John) took me to Knight Riders, a local club that's not in the tour books and, according to John, has less prostitutes than the one that is. I slowly learn to play Ugandan pool (much more structured than rural Cambodian pool) and lost two games. Perhaps could have won the third, but there was none, too tired.

Slow day

Wandered around town. Found a mall. Ate some Indian food.

Kampala Return

Wake at 4:45am to catch the fast bus at 5. It stops by around 5:30 and we're off for Kampala. 30 minutes later the glass in the window by my seat falls out to the road, shattering. It's a cold ride through the mountains, but after some time the sun emerges and it's warmer. While we're still in the hills, the bus breaks down. Just overheated, the driver tweaks some tubes and we're off. For a few minutes. Eventually we reach Kabale - it's been a number of stops-to-let-the-bus-cool-down later, but here we can stop for some time while the radiator is replaced.

At least we fared better than one of the buses we were racing (yes racing. One of the other drivers even did the "On your mark...") - it got too close to the edge of the road and toppled into the ditch, luckily it was towards the mountain not towards the cliff (i wonder why there aren't crosses on the side of the road here, at the site of fatal accidents, like there are in Latin America. There are a lot of Christians here, can't believe they don't ever die on these roads).

The replacement radiator (not a new one) doesn't fit the same bolt holes inside the bus, so the mechanics clamp it to the old, broken radiator and place both in the bus. Took a couple hours, but we are happily off towards Kampala again, wind and dirt full force in my face.

After another couple hours, more problems. They forgot that buses need petrol to run; we're out. It doesn't take that long for another bus to bring us some fuel, but just filling up doesn't fix the problem. After a few tweaks, a few false starts, and a couple hours, we're again on our way.

17 hours after we started on the fast bus, we reach Kampala. I've half of Uganda on my face, and another bus experience to talk about.

In the Midst of Gorillas

Wake up at 5am, Daniel collects our passports and money. 30 minutes on the back of a pickup to the border, wait in Uganda as Daniel handles immigration for us, walk across to DR Congo, wait a bit more. Passports stamped a couple times, walk a bit to the Toyota Landcruiser that will drive us to the Park. We're joined by the driver and 2 armed (kalashnikov's) guards (soldiers? they're dressed as such and look to be 14 and 17 years old).

It's about a 1-2 hour drive through the Congo countryside until we stop and walk for 45 minutes to the Park. Beautiful countryside - rolling hills covered in lightly terraced farmland, few trees left.

Much of the road is lined by houses and storage baskets. The houses are the same style as those in Western Uganda - about halfway into the busride to Kisoro the brick houses started giving way to cheaper houses. Partially due to building material availability, i suppose, the houses are wooden frames with wooden furring strips (note the wood used is very rough, not treated, mostly regular 2x4 studs we might use but roughly hewn wood). That framework is filled in with rocks, then mud/clay is stuffed into the gaps, and if it's an important building, that is covered with a kind of plaster. A thatch roof or corrugated metal covers the small single room house. The storage baskets are large, 1 meter diameter, 3 meter tall reed woven baskets placed in a wooden frame to elevate them off the ground and give them a thatch cover.

The kids along this route are quite happy to see us, waving and yelling "jambo!" at us, sometimes asking for money. I wonder how many Congo kids will ever see an American. I wonder how many Americans will ever see a Congo kid.

3 long brick houses in a U shape form the Park's ranger station. We are met by a number of rangers and trackers, and a number of small children who've run from some surrounding houses to gawk at us. The ranger repeats what Daniel told us the night before, the Rules of Gorilla Trekking - only one hour with the gorillas, stay 7 meters away, beware the angry red ants, cough/sneeze facing away from the gorillas, etc, etc.

Then we're off, the 6 tourists, 2 armed (kalashnikov's & machetes) rangers, 1 machete-wielding tracker. 2 or 3 hour hike at around 2200-2500m (approximately 1.5 miles high), through thick jungle. There is a path but it is rather overgrown in many places. Other places are quite muddy - it isn't raining now but has recently and the air is heavy. The various plants lean over, brushing against us. The rangers cut most of the prickly ones back for our benefit, though be the end of the day we'll still have some spiky things sticking out of our arms. We see various small animals along the way - ants, beetles, mosquitos, moths, lizards, large snails, a centimeter-long worm-like creature that wants to burrow into my hand, etc, etc.

We reach another group of trackers and rangers, lead by Augustine, who tells us they left early in the day to locate this gorilla family's present location. Close by, a low rumble - one of the gorillas playing. They are but a few meters away, and after a few paces a young gorilla swings in to greet us.

The younger ones are curious, the older are hungry. The 200+ kg silverback roars, he's dug up the earth around a tree and is eating the red ants he's uncovered - these are medium sized ants, and aggressive, if you move too close to the tree they'll swarm over your feet. Up your boots, but your pants are tucked into your boots (as recommended by Daniel), so up your pants, and your undershirt is tucked into your pants (as recommended by me), so up your undershirt to your bare chest and back, where they proceed to inform you of their anger. Luckily few make the journey that far (side note: 5 hours later when we've returned to Kisoro, i'm finally taking off my boots, a few ants are still biting my boots, gnawing at the laces, making sure i got the message. Apparently they didn't get the message that the war was over).

Back to the gorillas: it's like being in a zoo, except there are no bars, nothing separating you from them. No guarantee what they'll do, swing down to grab your hat, run past you to go get some other food, sit and idly ponder their day. They're peaceful, happy to eat and play and wonder why we're just standing around. Wonderful animals, are they any different from my cats?

Passport

New stamps in my passport.

Kisoro, Uganda

11 hour bus ride. Mostly fine - packed, dirty,relatively uncomfortable seats, lots of stops, but fine - though the last 2 hours was dirt road. In a small border town now (or, close to border). No street lights here, but few in Kampala as well. There is one shop offering internet access until 9pm - it is slow access, though not as slow as in the Gobi Desert. This town has internet access, wonder if there's a similar placce in Continental, OH, this town is a little smaller than there.

We've yet to meet Daniel, the man who is supposed to be arranging the Gorilla trek for us. Instead we have met 2 Polish travellers who will be joining us. There isn't much to do here, which is ok, we've been up a long time and surely will have to wake early for the trek.

One of the Polish fellows has a bottle of Waragi (local gin) and some tonic, after some drinks and some food we'll all sleep well.

Day 5 remainder

There are 3 others going with me to see the Mountain Gorillas - An Australian couple from Adelaide and a fellow originally from the Netherlands. Tomorrow we'll be heading to some small town in the West, the next day we trek to see the gorillas, and the following day we head back to Kampala.

After finally waking today, i just wandered around town, found a decent collection of crafts shops and bought my niece a t-shirt. Will but trinkets for others towards the end of my trip, just wanted to make sure she's got something first, she's at a potentially braty age (what age isn't?).

Day 5

Slept for about 13 hours, with minimal interruptions. My body is sore and bruised from yesterday's rafting, with a couple minor cuts (one girl in our raft got a little banged up - hit the rocks while flailing underwater and got3 nice cuts on her leg). Maybe i'll look into walking around downtown this afternoon.

I've heard there will be a number (4? 5? 6?) of us heading west to see the Gorillas tomorrow. Should cut down on one or two of the costs a little. Did i mention they're picky about their bills here? Many places don't accept US $100 bills from before 2000, which about half my bills are (guess they're progressive here).

There was a good variety of people rafting yesterday, including people from CIDA, a variety of Americans (half volunteers in and around Uganda, half on vacation), Australians, South Africans, and a variety of others i don't remember. lots of discussions and arguments about politics and volunteering and social conditions in general. People care, or want to sound like they care, it's great. The raft i was on was comprised solely of Americans, perhaps some conspiracy, perhaps because the rafts were organized by "wild" and "mild" levels, and we all wanted as wild as possible. Our guide - Graham, an Irish fellow - seemed to be the functional manager of the place. Was a great guide, he instilled both confidence and adventure into the experience and it would not have been the same without him.

Enough talk of yesterday, time to get my feet wet today (it's been raining all day).

Rafting

It's a roller coaster ride with no guarantee of safety. You kind of know which way the raft will go, but even the guide has no certainty of exactly what will happen. and once you're thrown off the raft, or the raft flips and everyone is flailing about under water, there's no guarantee how long you'll be under water or how bruised/cut you'll get. Still, its not really very dangerous - the guides first walk you through the basics and after some practice on the slower moving parts of the river, you're ready for category 5. On the Nile, there's enough water flowing through the rapids that as long as you tuck in your limbs and don't panic too much, you should be safe. It was one of the best experiences of my live - rollercoasters used to bore me, now they'll surely put me to sleep.

When i returned i received an unfortunate letter from John - a cousin of his died today and he will be travelling to the funeral tomorrow, so our plans have been cancelled. Not sure what i'll do.

Day three

Made my way to Kmapala, to the Backpacker's Motel. A minibus with 16-17 people, much more comfortable than the Cambodian pickup with 27 people hanging off the sides. It's a rather nice place, this hostel. A campground in Kampala, along with a numbre of dorms and singles and doubles in buildings, a bar/restaurant, and even decent internet access. There are some monkeys in the trees out back (one even showered me with tree debris while hopping overhead as i was writing this - better than pelting me with feces), i guess seeing monkeys here is like seeing deer in downtown Ann Arbor (yes, i have).

The phone system here is similar to that in Mongolia, either you have a cel phone or you walk to a local vendor-person and pay for their phone service - they have to repeatedly add minutes to their phone from calling cards they purchase, and charge you a little more than the cards to make a profit - their system of payphones. he transport is similar to Cambodia - bodaboda are the mopeds you take around, though not as daringly as in Phnom penh (perhaps the police are more restrictive here?).

Walked just down the hill andgot ahold of John. He stopped by and we talked a bit, i gave him the rum from Amin (8 year reserve, special blend i kpicked up in Amsterdam). When he left the receptionist said "you're in good hands". I lead a blessed life.
Tomorrow i go rafting on the Nile, category 5 rapids, i guess that's a lot? I've never been rafting before, can't be any worse than my father's driving (at least when he was younger).

John has invited me to spend the afternoon with his family on sunday, and then on monday i am headed towest to go see the mountain gorillas, a former cryptozoological creature. Mokele mbembe, are you next?

Day Two

Wandered around Entebbe for a bit. A walk through a 100-year old botanical garden - imagine the arb in Uganda. They have chipmunks here, and even herons and egrets; I could be in Michigan except for the monkeys.

The local beer is ok, typical of the pilsners you find in 3rd world countries. There's a great Chinese restaurant in Entebbe, i ate there twice. Missed John Make-Mukasa (my boss's friend), the hotel didn't know what room i was in when he stopped by.

I'm rather nervous here, wondering how long my money will last, what i'll do next, how i'll get there, what i'm doing here.

Day one

8 + 8 hours (approximately) fly time and i'm walking across the tarmac towards Ugandan Immigration. The airport is more rundown than even Cambodia's Ratanakiri branch, which, despite being a dirt-paved runway and wooden building, was quite well-maintained. Still the lines are short and 20-30 minutes later i'm staring into a mass of African faces smiling and holding signs of various hotels - i don't spot mine.

It's different than Peru, where the instant you leave customs a horde of taxi drivers assault you for the privilege of driving you onwards (note - that's similar to to Ulaan Bataar, except they're more obviously drunk there). Instead, in Uganda a beautiful smiling black woman kindly asks, "what hotel are you looking for?" And she promptly finds the man i'm looking for, despite her being from some other hotel. Thank you, ma'am.

And for the record, only four: Shooter (c'mon Mark, you can do better, did you just need the money?), Breach (somehow it barely clung to a suspenseful feeling), Flags of our Fathers (Band of Brothers, now in Asia!), and Letters From Iwo Jima (wonder what they thought of this in Japan, or Korea).

Flight

Uganda, June 5, 2007. I bought my ticket over the weekend.

No, i'm not going due to watching a recent film about the place; i'd heard of Idi Amin before even watching Mississippi Masala. I'm going because i want to get back to Africa.

My current plan is to circle Lake Victoria counter-clockwise. I've a contact in Uganda thanks to my boss, an Ugandan immigrant. From there i'll travel to the border with DRoC, peer across, and wonder where that last great cryptozoological creature is, let him know i'll catch up to him soon enough. South to Rwanda, witness the river in that country. East to one of the tourist hotspots, look at a nice crater. North, but not too far north, not too far east, or i'd be back where i started. But to Kenya nonetheless; i used to have some friends from there, still have a spearhead she gave me. And back across the river, maybe do some white-water rafting (if you're gonna do it for the first time, might as well be at the source of the Nile, eh?), maybe fish some Nile perch, maybe just enjoy the land. At least that's the current plan - it will probably change substaintially once my feet touch African soil again.

And don't worry, i've already told my brother what to do with the life insurance money (yes, WCC gets a scholarship in my name, to support those who travel - now i really gotta watch my back, everyone's gonna want me dead).

It should be a great trip. Maybe when i get back, if the ceiling mural is done, i'll finally have that house-warming party.

Peru 2006

The differences are many, from the daily trash pickups, enough casinos to rival Vegas (tragamonedas - i hear the Chinese tourists especially enjoy them), walled houses/barred windows (no wonder the Dead always rise in the States, they'd never make it here), political graffiti, etc, etc. It's a little bit difficult to describe all the differences between such a foreign country and the US, sometimes so much so that it's difficult to even spot them - when i travel here i know that it is so incredibly different yet it is taxing to try to describe why.

Rome, 2006

Frank and i went biking some 50+ km through the countryside by Frankfurt. We covered all kinds of terrain and were quite exhausted afterwards, and running so late that we missed all but Brazil's last goal. The France-Korea match was rather nice to watch, though - we sat surrounded by a bunch of Koreans cheering "De Ha Mingu" (sp?) among other things, and their enthusiam was wonderful.

Got home at around 1am, which left 30 minutes to pack and make it to the train stop to catch the 30 minute train back into Frankfurt (which i just made, thanks Frank!), where i waited about 35 minutes for a 2 hour bus ride to the Hahn airport, for the 2 hour flight to Rome, Ciampino, and took a 1 hour bus to catch the 30 minute metro ride to Termini, the central train station. Been up for a while now, but i'm right close to Termini in the same internet cafe that i always go to in Rome. I don't think the employee recognizes me, but i recognizes her, she's the same Peruvian woman who was working here before.

Now I'm off to wander around Rome, again. Probably nothing too fancy, like the Vatican or the Colloseum, but something less dramatic like the outskirts, to see all the crazy apartment buildings they have there.

I've a lot of older posts i should make, but don't have the time right now. Look for old posts later on, i have to backdate a bunch of them.

birthday party

My mom's wanted a new cuckoo clock for quite some years, so as she's close to der Schwarzwald (where cuckoo clocks are made) now's her chance to get one. Siegfried drove us to the area, with Heinz (who says he needed a new head after last night) coming along as a translator. While there, we saw what claims to be the largest cuckoo clock in the world cuckoo at 2pm. Think i got it on video too.

Afterwards we walked around the largest waterfalls in Germany as well as through some other small towns in the area. On each small town's central plaza is an area where a large screen has been set up. When a football game is on, the plaza fills up with people coming to watch it on the big screen and enjoy the many shops set up around it. Also, the town buildings are lined with German and other flags. I've heard various Europeans say how strange it is to see U.S. streets lined with U.S. flags, but the World Cup changes everything, being partiotic takes on a new meaning. It's a wonderfully festive time town throughout the country.


We returned around supper time and Dorle made me some good vegan fried rice with tofu, and i was told that Rebecca had invited me to a party to celebrate her and a cousin's recent birthdays. The party was a gathering of 30 or so locals in their 20's, along with a lot of local beers and buckets of sangria with long straws in it.

It was a great party, and luckily for me plenty of people spoke some degree of English and spoke with me throughout the night. At times everyone started speaking German (or Schwabian (sp?), to be exact) but i just sat back and enjoyed the interpersonal interactions.

Ended up getting home around 3:30-4am, another well-worth it long night.

Just like the ketchup

6:30am taxi to Chinggis Khaan Airport. 3 hour wait, then 6 hours aboard an Aeroflot Russian airplane with very small seats and the largest bathroom i've ever seen on a plane. 5 hour wait in Moscow airport, a dingy little place with poor organization. 3 hour flight to Frankfurt and my father greets me holding a bag of clothes. Frank is around the corner and Siegfried's outside fretting over the car. Franks bids goodbye (for now) and we head off to Backnang.

2 days ago i was racing across the Gobi Desert at 40 kmph listening to Cloud Nine Music; now i am racing on the Autobahn at 200+ kmph listening to an automated German voice giving directions.

Heinz is a jolly old man having a family gathering. I meet a plethora of people that i met 25 years ago but do not remember, and i meet Rebecca, a cousin (almost everyone here is a cousin of mine, to some degree) who was only in her mother's womb when we were last in Germany.

Many beers later i am (at my mother's request) drunkeningly explaining all the photos and people in my mom's photo album to Rebecca. Eventually everyone heads off, and we get driven to Siegfried's.

The Omen

The last day of Desert travel was a little more uneventful than the rest; my mind is too blanked out (maybe overwhelmed by my stench?) to think of much more to say; i also have to rush through a few errands before the end of the day. If all goes well, i'll be in Frankfurt in about 30 hours.

One good point to mention - on the way back we passed by some tourists heading out of UB for 20 days (desert and western forests). One of them was Italian, from Rome. Figure that's a good omen.