'A king's time as ruler rises and falls like the sun.'
Mufasa, The documentary 'The Lion King'
Nice to have some sunny days in Wellington, walking the Oriental Bay beat with the wife. Feeling a bit more settled. Nice to have been out to Petone a few times, take in that sea air and start to set the house up again. Will be good to get back into work on Monday.
Had a good catch up at a cafe on Cuba Street with Niko, a Tanzanian volunteer and former Arusha maize field snuggle mate. Good to riff about how we feel coming from 'there' to 'here'. Optimism for the future in NZ all round.
While the sun has set on Tanzania, the great Circle of Life turns ever on and a sun will rise again with me in Africa. Just not right now...gonna take in the Kiwi scene for a good time!
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
Comfortably Numb
Slowly coming out of a jetlagged, dislocated daze back to the (finger quote marks) 'real world'. Got baggage from customs. In Wellington, popped into work. Getting ready to move back into the Petone pad. Catching up with friends. Had the final debrief and handshake from the Volunteer Agency 'thank you for not setting back Africa too far'
Everything is pretty much the same. Pretty much.
(twiddles thumbs)
Will have to think of interesting things to put in the blog. No more elephants. But lots of power, water, good food, and fantails. Finding it hard to talk about Tanzania to people though...dunno why, just find it hard to compress a year of craziness into a few soundbites..Ill keep trying!
Everything is pretty much the same. Pretty much.
(twiddles thumbs)
Will have to think of interesting things to put in the blog. No more elephants. But lots of power, water, good food, and fantails. Finding it hard to talk about Tanzania to people though...dunno why, just find it hard to compress a year of craziness into a few soundbites..Ill keep trying!
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Chillin' with family
Still jetlagged. Good to soak up time with family and kiwiana (sheep, beaches, bad journalism etc). Feeling a bit dislocated/sad being away from chickens, sheep and dusty roads, staring locals etc. But nice and peaceful in Waiuku.
Went out to Kiratahi beach with my ma and mke today. A anti-Zanzibar beach ie rips, black sand, long stretches of deserted coast.
(water!)
(wife and my ma walk along)
Monday, March 14, 2011
Leaving on a Jet Plane
(last saunter in Moshi)
Friday March 11th was our last full day in Tanzania. We spent it uploading Uganda photos to Facebook (well okay, I did that while my increasingly annoyed wife said we had more important things to do), farewell lunches, buying last minute trinkets and re-packing our bags. The wife took some last photos of the evil toy dogs that lived at our (now) former rental house.
(so long you noisey furry b@st@rds)
We had a motley collection of carry on/check in luggage to take home consisting of kettles, wooden giraffes, flutes, Nintendo games etc etc. All the odd shapes were going to be a nightmare for x-ray scans in airport security.
Increasingly, the fact this would be my last day wandering dusty, brown foot trails, dodging chickens and goats and exchanging greetings with smiling locals while Mount Kili sat in the distance. Sigh. Farewell texts and calls from kiwi volunteers made me a bit more morose. As well as the fact that we just saw an email from the NZ volunteer agency saying the Africa programme was going to be wound up...maybe they read my blog? um..just glad I did it while I had the chance.
We went to Doctor Bob’s house for goodbye margaritas and had a touching goodbye from his live in gardener that we had know for a while. We kept drinking, listened to music, watched the high brow comedy ‘Step Brothers’ before heading out at 10pm for food at ‘Pub Alberto’ before paying the ridiculous cover charges and dancing until 2am at Moshi’s biggest night club-Club La Liga. Laser lighting, Tanzanians gyrating to deafening local music and friendly hookers dancing with my wife seemed like an appropriate send off.
Daniel is leaving tonight on a plane
I can see the red tail lights heading for Spain
Elton John (duh)
Nursing headaches the next day, we had brunch at the Union Café (another touching farewell from a waiter there..guess we have been in this town for a while!) before packing up our bags in Dr Bob’s car for the ride to KIA airport. We met our volunteer handler there and said goodbye. I hope our handler will be okay with the whole end of the Africa programme thing. There will still be kiwi volunteers in Tanzania at least till the end of this year.
After an amusing incident with Aviation Security making us pull out the wife's flute case (guess it did look a bit like a disassembled sniper rifle on x-ray)Wwe flew to Dar Es Salaam with Emirates, rang Chunga our guide and friend from our Kili climb to say goodbye at the Dar airport, then did the 5 hour flight to Dubai. This weird little lit up city in the desert night. We had an 11 hour wait there, we should have slept but instead we trawled surprisingly dull mall shops, argued about trivia,I pleaded for games/DVDs, stuffed ourselves with complimentary Emirates food etc etc. The time there dragged. I wanted to jump on a flight to Beirut that was at its 'final stage', I was that tired/bored. Finally we where on the Emirates plane again for the 12 hour flight to Melbourne. Sat next to a nice guy called 'Aussie James'. Watched Wall Street 1 and 2. Couldn't sleep. Drank lots of coffee. Watched 'Born Free'-a mistake, it made me sad for Africa. Had too few bathroom breaks. So bored. Finally we got into Melbourne, feeling wasted.
The 3 hour flight to Auckland dragged but finally we were in. Customs/MAF were pretty chill about all the wooden, bamboo, trinkets etc we were bringing in. Good to see my ma. Surreal seeing pavement, groomed lawns, no Africans in rural Waiuku. We passed out like dead people at 8pm. Slept 12 hours or so.
Tuesday, tried a brief jog, my lungs hurt with all the pollen. Stupid asthma in stupid NZ. So weird to have no one noticing us as we jogged IM NOT SPECIAL ANYMORE sob. Nice to see some NZ sheep though and chill out at my ma's house.
Um....(looks at watch) sure I got a few more blog entries in me before I shut this down...
Manfred the nondescript average NZer
Heart of Dougness: Sthwest Uganda Part 3 Finale
After a good night’s sleep on my two-dinner-full-belly (don't ask it needs diagrams and mime to explain) I woke to find a heavy mist over Lake Bunyoni below our hilltop lodgings. Doh. While we waited for the mist to clear we had breakfast and interesting conversations with our driver/guide. We covered diverse subjects such as D.R.C ‘it is a cursed country’ to Tanzania/Uganda differences ‘we have more cheese than them’ to the ignorance in our home land of New Zealand about Uganda. To some people, all they know of Uganda is Idi Amin. I mean it was all I knew of the country at one stage, but I just hope people are open to learning a bit more if the opportunity arises.
Our guide was disappointed to hear that New Zealand had ‘extreme danger’ travel advisories regarding the gorilla safari in Uganda. Interesting-and I suppose obvious- how things like that affect in a real way the tourism/economy of developing countries. I never had any sense of any immediate, credible danger during my time in Uganda. Just some irrational fears and a lot of awe at the beauty of the surrounds. In my own view, I would downgrade the travel warning to ‘high’, qualify that rating with good, up to date intel and place it only on specific regions in Uganda.
The mist had lifted as we three chattered revealing a stunning vista of lake and islands.
(Lake Bunyoni, Mount Mura Bora in the background)
The lake has 27 islands and is one of the deepest in Africa. The view reminded me of the tourist hotspot Lake Knysna in South Africa, but even more pretty.
(time to go, mke!)
We drove down to the water past a hotel that was Idi Amin’s former lakeside retreat, from the hustle and bustle of being a tyrant. The wife and I jumped in a boat and puttered out for a relaxing hour long jaunt.
Lots of cormorants and kingfishers looking for food as locals were ferried back and forth in eucalyptus wood boats. Part of the lake is in Rwanda; Mount Murabora of the Uganda/DRC/Rwanda shared Virunga ranges was in the near distance.
Back at shore and off the boat we jumped back in our vehicle and began (another) long drive back to Kampala for the night. Past the turn off to the Rwandan border (22 km away) lots and lots of road works, cows and fruit markets, lots of bucolic views of pastures and cultivation and a ‘burn off’ that had gotten out of control and was now an inferno.
It was about 730pm as we got into the outskirts of Kampala (looong drive) and immediately got held up in a huge unmoving traffic jam. Cursing, our driver turned around and tried to find an alternate route. As we drove, I saw armoured cars with water cannons and troops of heavily armed Police stationed at roundabouts. According to the radio, there had been protests today against the results of the recent election. Peaceful democratic protests ain’t too big on this continent. Protesters had been dispersed with an intimidating display of force. I took some surreptitious snaps of the roundabouts as we drove and hopped I wouldn’t get noticed.
Finally crawled to our hotel in central Kampala and after dinner, we relaxed watching the feel good Sam Raimi horror ‘Drag me to Hell’. Thursday, our driver met us early and glumly drove us off to Entebbe airport to fly back to Kilimanjaro. As we got to Entebbe Airport, we were stopped by Police for a weapons pat down. Prudent, I guess. A couple of UN heavy lifting helicopters thundered overhead from the nearby UN airbase. We said goodbye to our driver and friend and headed off to check in. Some medium turbulence as we got into Kilimanjaro Airport (I’ve had more bumpy landings in Africa than anywhere else) but otherwise got back to Moshi safe and sound. As we had moved out of our old pad we would be crashing at our friends’ houses over the next two night before we departed Tanzania.
Do the gorillas. Any money/time is well worth it. Do Uganda. It’s safe, beautiful and fascinating yo. I want to do more of that country one day. Happy to pass on details of our tour company if anyone wants it.
Our guide was disappointed to hear that New Zealand had ‘extreme danger’ travel advisories regarding the gorilla safari in Uganda. Interesting-and I suppose obvious- how things like that affect in a real way the tourism/economy of developing countries. I never had any sense of any immediate, credible danger during my time in Uganda. Just some irrational fears and a lot of awe at the beauty of the surrounds. In my own view, I would downgrade the travel warning to ‘high’, qualify that rating with good, up to date intel and place it only on specific regions in Uganda.
The mist had lifted as we three chattered revealing a stunning vista of lake and islands.
(Lake Bunyoni, Mount Mura Bora in the background)
The lake has 27 islands and is one of the deepest in Africa. The view reminded me of the tourist hotspot Lake Knysna in South Africa, but even more pretty.
(time to go, mke!)
We drove down to the water past a hotel that was Idi Amin’s former lakeside retreat, from the hustle and bustle of being a tyrant. The wife and I jumped in a boat and puttered out for a relaxing hour long jaunt.
Lots of cormorants and kingfishers looking for food as locals were ferried back and forth in eucalyptus wood boats. Part of the lake is in Rwanda; Mount Murabora of the Uganda/DRC/Rwanda shared Virunga ranges was in the near distance.
Back at shore and off the boat we jumped back in our vehicle and began (another) long drive back to Kampala for the night. Past the turn off to the Rwandan border (22 km away) lots and lots of road works, cows and fruit markets, lots of bucolic views of pastures and cultivation and a ‘burn off’ that had gotten out of control and was now an inferno.
It was about 730pm as we got into the outskirts of Kampala (looong drive) and immediately got held up in a huge unmoving traffic jam. Cursing, our driver turned around and tried to find an alternate route. As we drove, I saw armoured cars with water cannons and troops of heavily armed Police stationed at roundabouts. According to the radio, there had been protests today against the results of the recent election. Peaceful democratic protests ain’t too big on this continent. Protesters had been dispersed with an intimidating display of force. I took some surreptitious snaps of the roundabouts as we drove and hopped I wouldn’t get noticed.
Finally crawled to our hotel in central Kampala and after dinner, we relaxed watching the feel good Sam Raimi horror ‘Drag me to Hell’. Thursday, our driver met us early and glumly drove us off to Entebbe airport to fly back to Kilimanjaro. As we got to Entebbe Airport, we were stopped by Police for a weapons pat down. Prudent, I guess. A couple of UN heavy lifting helicopters thundered overhead from the nearby UN airbase. We said goodbye to our driver and friend and headed off to check in. Some medium turbulence as we got into Kilimanjaro Airport (I’ve had more bumpy landings in Africa than anywhere else) but otherwise got back to Moshi safe and sound. As we had moved out of our old pad we would be crashing at our friends’ houses over the next two night before we departed Tanzania.
Do the gorillas. Any money/time is well worth it. Do Uganda. It’s safe, beautiful and fascinating yo. I want to do more of that country one day. Happy to pass on details of our tour company if anyone wants it.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Heart of Dougness: Sthwest Uganda Pt 2
Woke up early Tuesday morning excited about the day’s impending, impenetrable forest mission. Went outside the banda to see black clouds racing in. As the wife and I chugged down coffee in the dining area, the rain began. Bucketing down. The biggest volume of water I’ve seen come down this year in one sitting. As 30 minutes of solid sheet like downpour continued, the recriminations began amongst our marital unit as to who’s idea it was not to bring raincoats to Africa. (Okay, I was the one who thought we would not need raincoats this year…oops.) As the rain kept on and muddy rivers of rain water washed down slopes about as, we started to worry maybe we would not be allowed on a daylong wet rainforest trek with just a Petone themed tee-shirt and a light blue jumper between us. The forest in front of us was swathed in mist. Gorillas. Mist. Yeah!
Our guide grabbed us after breakfast and after registering, permits in hand (at US$500 each, these bloody apes better put on a stellar show for us) we went to the start point for the trek. A gaggle of wazungu tourists (all of them kitted up handsomely for a rain forest expedition, making the wife and I look like charity recipients) milled around near the park headquarters as the rain finally started to subside. A Ugandan Wildlife Authority (UWA) Ranger gave us all a briefing on the importance of the Bwindi area to the conservation of mountain gorillas. I’m a bit thick but I still don’t totally understand why mountain gorillas are so ridiculously endangered. I think they are fairly sensitive to adverse changes in their environment?
We were also given rudimentary instructions on safe distances from gorillas (7 metres), dos and don’ts (no eating, screaming around the apes) etc. No kids under 15 allowed on the trek; apparently one of the reasons for this is that young/baby gorillas will make a beeline to ‘play’ with human youngsters. UWA trackers were already out in the forest trying to locate the ‘Furry 6’ for us.
The tourists were then divided at random into groups of 8-10. Each group would track a particular family of gorillas. Our target family was the ‘Mubare’ family. 7 individuals led by a large, lazy silverback male. The ranger showed us mug shots of each gorilla to the wife’s great delight.
Our intrepid group of trekkers was an interesting mix. A Canadian couple our age, an older Australian geologist with some great stories, an ancient Germanic couple, a Belgian woman (for heaven’s sake, don’t mention Belgian colonies in East Africa) etc.
I felt a bit apprehensive about the random fitness levels of our group’s members. While I am no elite gorilla tracking athlete, tracking mobile animals does require a certain level of speed. After quickly hiring a couple of raincoats, from the park headquarters (phew) we all piled into our various 4WD vehicles and shot off over muddy roads to the start point at 1800 metres for our trek. Off we set-as it started raining again-up an uphill track past terraces and huts towards the forest entry point.
The elderly Germanic couple (E.G.C) immediately started puffing and panting and stopping. Really? Did they know this was a mountain gorilla trek? Sigh. Unlike Kilimanjaro climbing, you can’t naturally separate a group out into different speeds of ability; you all have to stick together.
We met up with another couple of UWA rangers toting Ak-47’s who would join our posse. I was a bit dubious of the stated reason for two machine guns: in order to warn any rogue gorilla we came across with a shot in the air. Think it was more a deterrent to the human ‘guerrilla’ variety.
(The Bodyguard)
After a 2 hour hike, we got to the entry point to the forest.
It certainly looked impenetrable. With the ‘Predator’ soundtrack playing in my head we descended into the jungle.
(goin in!)
It took an hour of medium/hard slog up and down through mud and thick vegetation to get near the moving gorillas. I couldn’t even see a track at some points, we just blindly followed our guides through a humid, thorny heaven for plants. We heard a lot of birds and monkeys. And the increasing pants and gasps of the slowing/stopping E.G.C. I hoped to Mungu we did not lose a chance to see the gorillas due to the E.G.C not spending enough hours on the Stairmaster.
After an hour we met up with the trackers who were already in the forest and BAM suddenly there was a black, furry shape sitting in the bushes in front of us.
The ‘Furry 7’ had unhelpfully chosen to dine that day in uneven, wet terrain, so gingerly we moved silently in and around the black shapes. The gorillas were in various stages of munching on leaves, climbing up trees or just staring into space. It was hard to keep your balance and take photos (couldn’t figure out how to turn off the flash, so had to cover it with my hand so as not to enrage the gorillas).
I was a little ‘ho hum’ about the size of the gorillas and then ‘Jeepers!’ we saw the big silverback leader of the troop. He was huge. I couldn’t believe how close we were getting to the gorillas, as we clambered on slopes to get good photos.
A mother whisked a baby on her back and shot off into the bush. The other gorillas started moving away from us. I started to feel vaguely guilty about us humans harassing these apes who were just wanting to get their munch on. Dian Fossey of ‘Gorillas in the Mist’ fame was resolutely opposed to making gorillas a sideshow. Ulp. And our ‘7 metre safe distance’ was totally out the window. We were pretty much at the mercy of the passive beasts…A gorilla brushed past one girl. I was about 2 metres from a lazy adolescent.
As I hunched down and watched him cough, scratch and look into the distance I started to feel some of the gorilla magic. They have expressive faces and big sad brown eyes.
‘Old souls’ as the wife called them. I got a bit closer to the adolescent, but as he silently bared his teeth and stared right in my eyes, I thought better of getting too close.
(Smiley ape)
So my guilt had been replaced by a fascination with how haunting it was to see these beings trying to eke out a living in their forest home. This unique experience was certainly worth all the travel time, credit card debt and vague Congo fears to do it. Magic.
(contemplation)
All too soon our time was up with the family and we moved away. As thunder rolled overhead, we headed out of the forest.
(out of the forest and back down)
After getting ‘gorilla tracking certificates’ and the obligatory tee shirt we met our guide and set off on the 100 km+ journey through another part of the Bwindi forest towards our night’s lodgings.
(stopping at a lookout)
On the drive, I kept thinking about the ethics of gorilla tourism (how many people must be pestering them every day?! ), Dian Fossey (must read her book) and sad, simian eyes. It was a long drive through beautiful rainforest. Bwindi is pretty spectacular. A different vibe to the Tanzanian plains I was used to. We left the forest behind and got back into a cultivated/populated area. We drove past an energetic group of kids singing (unknowingly) political slogans in favour of the current President.
(black and white colobus monkey we saw on the drive)
We stopped at one spot with a panoramic view of a valley and in the distance, the Virungas: the Ugandan/Congo/Rwandan shared volcano chain. Rwanda was pretty close by. I realised at that moment I would never be free of Africa for the rest of my days. There are worse things to be addicted to, I guess.
At 730pm we finally got to our lodge on a high hill by beautiful Lake Bunyoni. Couldn’t wait for the morning to see what the Lake actually looked like. And okay, yes I did order two dinners by mistake, in a story that would be too dull (ie embarrasing) for this blog. But I ate enough meat to power a lion for a year that night, groan.
To be continued
Our guide grabbed us after breakfast and after registering, permits in hand (at US$500 each, these bloody apes better put on a stellar show for us) we went to the start point for the trek. A gaggle of wazungu tourists (all of them kitted up handsomely for a rain forest expedition, making the wife and I look like charity recipients) milled around near the park headquarters as the rain finally started to subside. A Ugandan Wildlife Authority (UWA) Ranger gave us all a briefing on the importance of the Bwindi area to the conservation of mountain gorillas. I’m a bit thick but I still don’t totally understand why mountain gorillas are so ridiculously endangered. I think they are fairly sensitive to adverse changes in their environment?
We were also given rudimentary instructions on safe distances from gorillas (7 metres), dos and don’ts (no eating, screaming around the apes) etc. No kids under 15 allowed on the trek; apparently one of the reasons for this is that young/baby gorillas will make a beeline to ‘play’ with human youngsters. UWA trackers were already out in the forest trying to locate the ‘Furry 6’ for us.
The tourists were then divided at random into groups of 8-10. Each group would track a particular family of gorillas. Our target family was the ‘Mubare’ family. 7 individuals led by a large, lazy silverback male. The ranger showed us mug shots of each gorilla to the wife’s great delight.
Our intrepid group of trekkers was an interesting mix. A Canadian couple our age, an older Australian geologist with some great stories, an ancient Germanic couple, a Belgian woman (for heaven’s sake, don’t mention Belgian colonies in East Africa) etc.
I felt a bit apprehensive about the random fitness levels of our group’s members. While I am no elite gorilla tracking athlete, tracking mobile animals does require a certain level of speed. After quickly hiring a couple of raincoats, from the park headquarters (phew) we all piled into our various 4WD vehicles and shot off over muddy roads to the start point at 1800 metres for our trek. Off we set-as it started raining again-up an uphill track past terraces and huts towards the forest entry point.
The elderly Germanic couple (E.G.C) immediately started puffing and panting and stopping. Really? Did they know this was a mountain gorilla trek? Sigh. Unlike Kilimanjaro climbing, you can’t naturally separate a group out into different speeds of ability; you all have to stick together.
We met up with another couple of UWA rangers toting Ak-47’s who would join our posse. I was a bit dubious of the stated reason for two machine guns: in order to warn any rogue gorilla we came across with a shot in the air. Think it was more a deterrent to the human ‘guerrilla’ variety.
(The Bodyguard)
After a 2 hour hike, we got to the entry point to the forest.
It certainly looked impenetrable. With the ‘Predator’ soundtrack playing in my head we descended into the jungle.
(goin in!)
It took an hour of medium/hard slog up and down through mud and thick vegetation to get near the moving gorillas. I couldn’t even see a track at some points, we just blindly followed our guides through a humid, thorny heaven for plants. We heard a lot of birds and monkeys. And the increasing pants and gasps of the slowing/stopping E.G.C. I hoped to Mungu we did not lose a chance to see the gorillas due to the E.G.C not spending enough hours on the Stairmaster.
After an hour we met up with the trackers who were already in the forest and BAM suddenly there was a black, furry shape sitting in the bushes in front of us.
The ‘Furry 7’ had unhelpfully chosen to dine that day in uneven, wet terrain, so gingerly we moved silently in and around the black shapes. The gorillas were in various stages of munching on leaves, climbing up trees or just staring into space. It was hard to keep your balance and take photos (couldn’t figure out how to turn off the flash, so had to cover it with my hand so as not to enrage the gorillas).
I was a little ‘ho hum’ about the size of the gorillas and then ‘Jeepers!’ we saw the big silverback leader of the troop. He was huge. I couldn’t believe how close we were getting to the gorillas, as we clambered on slopes to get good photos.
A mother whisked a baby on her back and shot off into the bush. The other gorillas started moving away from us. I started to feel vaguely guilty about us humans harassing these apes who were just wanting to get their munch on. Dian Fossey of ‘Gorillas in the Mist’ fame was resolutely opposed to making gorillas a sideshow. Ulp. And our ‘7 metre safe distance’ was totally out the window. We were pretty much at the mercy of the passive beasts…A gorilla brushed past one girl. I was about 2 metres from a lazy adolescent.
As I hunched down and watched him cough, scratch and look into the distance I started to feel some of the gorilla magic. They have expressive faces and big sad brown eyes.
‘Old souls’ as the wife called them. I got a bit closer to the adolescent, but as he silently bared his teeth and stared right in my eyes, I thought better of getting too close.
(Smiley ape)
So my guilt had been replaced by a fascination with how haunting it was to see these beings trying to eke out a living in their forest home. This unique experience was certainly worth all the travel time, credit card debt and vague Congo fears to do it. Magic.
(contemplation)
All too soon our time was up with the family and we moved away. As thunder rolled overhead, we headed out of the forest.
(out of the forest and back down)
After getting ‘gorilla tracking certificates’ and the obligatory tee shirt we met our guide and set off on the 100 km+ journey through another part of the Bwindi forest towards our night’s lodgings.
(stopping at a lookout)
On the drive, I kept thinking about the ethics of gorilla tourism (how many people must be pestering them every day?! ), Dian Fossey (must read her book) and sad, simian eyes. It was a long drive through beautiful rainforest. Bwindi is pretty spectacular. A different vibe to the Tanzanian plains I was used to. We left the forest behind and got back into a cultivated/populated area. We drove past an energetic group of kids singing (unknowingly) political slogans in favour of the current President.
(black and white colobus monkey we saw on the drive)
We stopped at one spot with a panoramic view of a valley and in the distance, the Virungas: the Ugandan/Congo/Rwandan shared volcano chain. Rwanda was pretty close by. I realised at that moment I would never be free of Africa for the rest of my days. There are worse things to be addicted to, I guess.
At 730pm we finally got to our lodge on a high hill by beautiful Lake Bunyoni. Couldn’t wait for the morning to see what the Lake actually looked like. And okay, yes I did order two dinners by mistake, in a story that would be too dull (ie embarrasing) for this blog. But I ate enough meat to power a lion for a year that night, groan.
To be continued
Heart of Dougness: SthWest Uganda Part 1
So after a lot of booking hiccups, 'Extreme Risk' travel advisories, incensed travel insurance providers and what not, we were finally to be on our way to Uganda. The 'Pearl of Africa' with all the surrounding hype about its beauty and bloody history. This trip would only be a sampler of the south of the country in a short time frame, with the main aim being to track the rare mountain gorillas. I also wanted to get a sense of how different-if at all-to Tanzania another East African country was.
We flew out Sunday; the flight from Kilimanjaro took 1 hour, 40 minute and we got into Entebbe under a stormy sky. We met our tour guide and began the 40 minute drive towards Kampala. To the side of the Entebbe Airport was the old airport, which was the site of the famous 1976 raid by Israeli commandos to free the passengers of a hijacked Air France flight. Now, it is the site of a massive UN airbase; the biggest in East Africa. The plane geek in me loved to see the lumbering Russian built aircraft in their white UN paint jobs.
(UN Airbase)
We drove the hilly road (not used to hills after the constant flat of the Moshi/Arusha area) up towards the centre of Kampala. We noted a sign marking our (former) NGO’s Ugandan hospital complex. The vehicles in Uganda seemed a bit newer/better maintained than those in Tanzania. I also observed far more camouflaged, machine gun toting police than I was used to wandering about. I guiltily enjoyed our guide’s perfect English (the number 1 language of unity in Uganda) and the 80’s tunes playing on the car radio. We chatted about corruption in the recent election (‘that’s Africa’) and a recent serious lack of rain.
We got through traffic congestion and crazy 'roundabouts' to arrive at the ‘Holiday Express’ budget hotel. We chilled the rest of the night.
(downtown Kampala)
Monday, we left at 730am as we would have a long, long drive to reach our destination, the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest way off in the South West of the country. Bwindi is a 300 sq km ancient rainforest that is home to half of the world's remaining mountain gorillas (ie 350 or so of 700). We drove past wetlands and papyrus filled swamps till we got to the actual Equator for a photo opportunity.
We even watched an experiment showcasing the different directions water turns as you pour it down a funnel on either side of the Equator. The Coriolis effect (look it up). Still not convinced it’s not all a hoax.
We drove on through nondescript towns, past long horned Ankole cattle (seem in better condition than livestock in Tanzania), bustling fruit markets and past the Lake Mburu National Park (sorry only zebra and impala, locals poisoned all the lions).
As the day went on we got further southwest and higher up-getting towards 1800 metres. The roads got increasingly rougher and the surrounds more beautiful.
Saw a hill full of quartz glittering in the sun. Lots of waving, dancing, friendly, begging children. Increasing green hills and gullies covered in a patchwork of demarcated terraces and little cultivated plots. We stopped for a photo opportunity by one amazing vista. A ‘hidden treasure’ as our guide put it, indeed.
(wife takes in the view)
(you can see the terraces on the hills behind)
Uganda, at least what I was seeing of it was uber scenic. I liked the orderly beauty of the terraces. Didn’t like so much the many eucalyptus trees everywhere (imported from OZ, used for firewood, boat building etc).
Send me to the Congo, I’m free to leave…
‘Congo’ by Genesis
As dusk approached, we were drawing nearer to both the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest and um, a border with er, the Democratic Republic of Congo. If you aren’t familiar with the history/reputation/plight of that country, go read Wikipedia. Despite our guide’s assurances that the Lord’s Resistance Army (again, look it up) were no longer in DRC and that he took cross-border gorilla safaris into DRC all the time, I grew a bit pensive. We drove past tea plantations and through a village (Butagota?) where smugglers used to go to and fro from DRC. Only 'used to'? I asked the guide how porous the border was with DRC. Very porous, he seemed to indicate.
I was startled when the guide pointed to a nearby hill and said that was DRC right there. A short 30 minute walk and you’d be in it.
(that hill is DRC)
I suddenly clicked how close we were to the border. Cold irrational sweat.
(the closest point to DRC...its just past those banana palms in the background))
Interlude
Sigh, ok Im going on about DRC a bit much. I'm really not trying to create a selective, sensational, danger focussed interpretation of trekking around Africa. Okay, yes I am. To an extent. I like a bit of adrenaline. And yes, I am an entertainer/pathological attention seeker. But in all seriousness, what I have found on travels to places like Israel and such is that, the chance of something bad happening to you if you be sensible is actually, really small. What am I trying to say...there are pockets of danger in Africa, that I find both intriguing and scary. Pockets exist in every country on earth. Avoid the pockets. Not the whole country/continent. But don't take a blanket and picnic lunch into DRC. It's a pocket.
At about 7pm, we arrived weary at Buhoma, the entrance settlement to the forest. Gorilla themed signs where everywhere in town, great to see the locals recognizing the economic potential of those apes. Our lodging was in a group of bandas (huts) near the entrance to the forest.
We had a good view of the forest from our dining area…wow pretty um dense.
Our lodgings were pretty primitive but they got the job done. I was still lapsing into talking Swahili to Ugandans to their bemusement or blank stares. (They can understand Swahili but they don’t seem to relish speaking it with me with the same gusto as Tanzanians.)
Under brilliant stars and lightening flashes in the distance and after making sure the door was locked against the Lord’s Resistance Army, we called it a night. Big gorilla-ry day tomorrow! It's been a long time since insurgents from Rwanda or DRC have caused serious havoc in Bwindi Forest. Peaceful, as. Just gotta hope it stays that way. Also hope it doesn't rain (we didn't bring raincoats, surely the name 'rainforest' is just for show...)
To be continued...
We flew out Sunday; the flight from Kilimanjaro took 1 hour, 40 minute and we got into Entebbe under a stormy sky. We met our tour guide and began the 40 minute drive towards Kampala. To the side of the Entebbe Airport was the old airport, which was the site of the famous 1976 raid by Israeli commandos to free the passengers of a hijacked Air France flight. Now, it is the site of a massive UN airbase; the biggest in East Africa. The plane geek in me loved to see the lumbering Russian built aircraft in their white UN paint jobs.
(UN Airbase)
We drove the hilly road (not used to hills after the constant flat of the Moshi/Arusha area) up towards the centre of Kampala. We noted a sign marking our (former) NGO’s Ugandan hospital complex. The vehicles in Uganda seemed a bit newer/better maintained than those in Tanzania. I also observed far more camouflaged, machine gun toting police than I was used to wandering about. I guiltily enjoyed our guide’s perfect English (the number 1 language of unity in Uganda) and the 80’s tunes playing on the car radio. We chatted about corruption in the recent election (‘that’s Africa’) and a recent serious lack of rain.
We got through traffic congestion and crazy 'roundabouts' to arrive at the ‘Holiday Express’ budget hotel. We chilled the rest of the night.
(downtown Kampala)
Monday, we left at 730am as we would have a long, long drive to reach our destination, the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest way off in the South West of the country. Bwindi is a 300 sq km ancient rainforest that is home to half of the world's remaining mountain gorillas (ie 350 or so of 700). We drove past wetlands and papyrus filled swamps till we got to the actual Equator for a photo opportunity.
We even watched an experiment showcasing the different directions water turns as you pour it down a funnel on either side of the Equator. The Coriolis effect (look it up). Still not convinced it’s not all a hoax.
We drove on through nondescript towns, past long horned Ankole cattle (seem in better condition than livestock in Tanzania), bustling fruit markets and past the Lake Mburu National Park (sorry only zebra and impala, locals poisoned all the lions).
As the day went on we got further southwest and higher up-getting towards 1800 metres. The roads got increasingly rougher and the surrounds more beautiful.
Saw a hill full of quartz glittering in the sun. Lots of waving, dancing, friendly, begging children. Increasing green hills and gullies covered in a patchwork of demarcated terraces and little cultivated plots. We stopped for a photo opportunity by one amazing vista. A ‘hidden treasure’ as our guide put it, indeed.
(wife takes in the view)
(you can see the terraces on the hills behind)
Uganda, at least what I was seeing of it was uber scenic. I liked the orderly beauty of the terraces. Didn’t like so much the many eucalyptus trees everywhere (imported from OZ, used for firewood, boat building etc).
Send me to the Congo, I’m free to leave…
‘Congo’ by Genesis
As dusk approached, we were drawing nearer to both the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest and um, a border with er, the Democratic Republic of Congo. If you aren’t familiar with the history/reputation/plight of that country, go read Wikipedia. Despite our guide’s assurances that the Lord’s Resistance Army (again, look it up) were no longer in DRC and that he took cross-border gorilla safaris into DRC all the time, I grew a bit pensive. We drove past tea plantations and through a village (Butagota?) where smugglers used to go to and fro from DRC. Only 'used to'? I asked the guide how porous the border was with DRC. Very porous, he seemed to indicate.
I was startled when the guide pointed to a nearby hill and said that was DRC right there. A short 30 minute walk and you’d be in it.
(that hill is DRC)
I suddenly clicked how close we were to the border. Cold irrational sweat.
(the closest point to DRC...its just past those banana palms in the background))
Interlude
Sigh, ok Im going on about DRC a bit much. I'm really not trying to create a selective, sensational, danger focussed interpretation of trekking around Africa. Okay, yes I am. To an extent. I like a bit of adrenaline. And yes, I am an entertainer/pathological attention seeker. But in all seriousness, what I have found on travels to places like Israel and such is that, the chance of something bad happening to you if you be sensible is actually, really small. What am I trying to say...there are pockets of danger in Africa, that I find both intriguing and scary. Pockets exist in every country on earth. Avoid the pockets. Not the whole country/continent. But don't take a blanket and picnic lunch into DRC. It's a pocket.
At about 7pm, we arrived weary at Buhoma, the entrance settlement to the forest. Gorilla themed signs where everywhere in town, great to see the locals recognizing the economic potential of those apes. Our lodging was in a group of bandas (huts) near the entrance to the forest.
We had a good view of the forest from our dining area…wow pretty um dense.
Our lodgings were pretty primitive but they got the job done. I was still lapsing into talking Swahili to Ugandans to their bemusement or blank stares. (They can understand Swahili but they don’t seem to relish speaking it with me with the same gusto as Tanzanians.)
Under brilliant stars and lightening flashes in the distance and after making sure the door was locked against the Lord’s Resistance Army, we called it a night. Big gorilla-ry day tomorrow! It's been a long time since insurgents from Rwanda or DRC have caused serious havoc in Bwindi Forest. Peaceful, as. Just gotta hope it stays that way. Also hope it doesn't rain (we didn't bring raincoats, surely the name 'rainforest' is just for show...)
To be continued...
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Uganda Prolouge
Writing this in an internet cafe in Kamapala, Uganda. Friday, was of course our last day at work. We got cool kitchy gifts and interesting farewell speeches. I dispute the assertion by the Country Director that I was twice the size of what I am now when I started there...but thanks for the compliment...I think. Got given a cake also as a farewell gift...had to carry it home past children shrieking for cake at the local primary school, sigh.
Saturday was a blur of shifting, packing, a Kiwi volunteer farewell luncheon (it was nice...but started feeling dislocated, like what the heck is going on..Im leaving?), then magaritas at Dr Bob's, 80's music,dancing, peaking early, feeling sad, sending melancholy texts...power cut. Finished the night listened to Queen (power back!) and debating insights into post-apartheid South Africa with Daudi. Good times.
Will write about Uganda/photos another time, but all I will say at the mo is
1)biggest UN airbase in East Africa YEAH! this plane geek loves the ex-Soviet cold war surplus cargo planes now working for the UN
2) so weird being in a different African country to Tanzania. It's so...polite and ordered so far...hm...
laters!
long drive tomorrow...all day to get within range of gorilla tracking...wish me a safe gorilla baiting time!
Saturday was a blur of shifting, packing, a Kiwi volunteer farewell luncheon (it was nice...but started feeling dislocated, like what the heck is going on..Im leaving?), then magaritas at Dr Bob's, 80's music,dancing, peaking early, feeling sad, sending melancholy texts...power cut. Finished the night listened to Queen (power back!) and debating insights into post-apartheid South Africa with Daudi. Good times.
Will write about Uganda/photos another time, but all I will say at the mo is
1)biggest UN airbase in East Africa YEAH! this plane geek loves the ex-Soviet cold war surplus cargo planes now working for the UN
2) so weird being in a different African country to Tanzania. It's so...polite and ordered so far...hm...
laters!
long drive tomorrow...all day to get within range of gorilla tracking...wish me a safe gorilla baiting time!
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Last Day at Work
'The volunteer wishes to say a word....
FREEEEEEEEDDDDDDOMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!'
[voiceover] In the Year of our Lord 2011, patriots of New Zealand - starving and outnumbered - charged the fields of Kilimanjaro. They fought like warrior poets; they fought like Scotsmen, and won their freedom.
(exit music, roll credits)
FREEEEEEEEDDDDDDOMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!'
[voiceover] In the Year of our Lord 2011, patriots of New Zealand - starving and outnumbered - charged the fields of Kilimanjaro. They fought like warrior poets; they fought like Scotsmen, and won their freedom.
(exit music, roll credits)
(we took) No prisoners! No prisoners!
This post rambles more than usual. Got so much on my mind!
Almost out the door at our NGO,a day to go. What a time it's been. Like Kevin Costner in 'Dances with Wolves' I wanted to 'see the frontier'. I got to see it alright. Hasn't been the easiest 12 months that's for certain. But I guess it has also forced me to beef up my skills in areas like relationship management, presenting complex ideas simply and meaningfully etc. But a lot of it came down to being punchy-to pushing and pushing and pushing through other people's apathy/poor planning. As they say in the documentary 'Batman Begins':
'The training is nothing. The will is everything. The will to act.'
Did I make a difference in the long term? Buggered if I know. I'm not a development expert. Clients/partners need to own the solutions to make them sustainable. They have to want the outcome and to run with it once you are gone. So a lot of my work has been being a steady, discrete influence on people in charge for incremental change...Gently and slowly. Still so much to do, but lamentably I have a mortgage to get back to...I feel like my work has been less about 'big wins' and more about breaking the ground in or setting a small foundation for future work. That's what I tell myself at least.
Could I work in Development again? Hmmm. I feel very ambivalent about it all. That said, there are good people and initiatives out there that focus on capacity building as opposed to money dumping. I'm interested in micro finance initiatives: http://www.kiva.org/
I'm also still interested in the idea of sustainable human rights capacity building in areas of the world that needs it.
"The most potent weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed." Steve Biko
I like the idea of raising people's self esteem about the quality of life they should demand.Plus I will never be free of an addiction to Africa. So, never say never again (that's a Jame Bond movie title, but it really happened).
Respect to all the Kiwi volunteers who are staying and keeping on with the good fight. But I'm ready to go. A humbled, slightly dejected, Peter O'Toole at the end of 'Lawrence of Arabia' who has outlived his usefulness here.
Like any workplace you leave I will miss the joking and fun times with colleagues. I'm happy I can point to at least 2-3 times when I did make a difference because I pushed. As I frantically finish up, my co-workers are trying to rope me into the big re-write of HIV training modules in prisons that would not have happened but for me holding a line. I'll stay in touch with them.
The good thing about human rights capacity building is a lot of it is intuitive to people-despite culture differences-just by virtue of our humanity. Concepts like 'fairness' and 'dignity' can be understood and run with (with the right inputs) by local people.
It’s been a fascinating experiment to work/live alongside the wife 24-7(never again). Has the crucible of this experience seems to has made us a stronger unit? Maybe a more hardened unit. But yeah, I don’t think we’ll be opening a business together anytime soon! ;-)
Lastly on a usual random note, Joesph Campbell, the mythologist, says that the common essence of the myth of the 'heroic journey' is that:
A hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder: fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive victory is won: the hero comes back from this mysterious adventure with the power to bestow boons on his fellow man
I have walked in a realm of wonder and terror. I will return to walk amongst you soon Kiwis. But I will be far less of a hero and more of a humbled squire. My quest nears its end, only a gorilla stands between me now and a raspberry bun from Pak n Save, Petone.
Skills exchange is dead. Long live skills exchange.
Manfred
PS
Updates may be a bit sporadic over the next while. Not sure what the Internet access will be like over the next while...wish us luck as we trek through the Ugandan jungle in a few days in search of 500 pound trophy apes!
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
We'll always have Marungu Waterfall
There is nothing wrong with two guys who are both leaving Tanzania soon taking in one last cheeky afternoon at a waterfall in Marungu. Okay, I was a little surprised when the chilly bin with margaritas was produced but all good. A fun bromance afternoon.
This is a ridiculously beautiful continent. Floating under waterfall spray after several margaritas...Africa, I can't quit ya.
This is a ridiculously beautiful continent. Floating under waterfall spray after several margaritas...Africa, I can't quit ya.
making it up as i go along
So a lot on in the next few days. Gotta tie things up at work, pack things for shipping, get our housekeeper sorted with new employment (she saved our sanity in this place. truly.), gotta draw out lots of American dollars for our last hoorah in Uganda. It's all coming too fast.
Friday
last day of work, I anticipate awkward inter-cultural farewell scenes..
Saturday
farewell from the NZ volunteers and welcoming in a new volunteer. Like the beginning of Platoon with the tired old vets going out and the rookies coming in. Moving things out of our flat. Partying in Moshi with fellow volunteers into the wee hours of Sunday.
Sunday
Get our hung over carcasses to the airport and fly into Entebbe, Uganda. There till Thursday night. Fly back to Moshi.
Friday
Crashing at a friend's place in Moshi. Last full day in Tanzania. What to do on this day...hmmm
Saturday
Fly out of Kilimanjaro via Zanzibar (sigh), Dar Es Salaam, Dubai, Sydney?Melbourne? (not sure), Auckland. I dunno, it was kinda booked a bit rushed...so long as I have inflight movies I'm cool.
Plus I have to take the Staff of Ra to the Map Room in the lost city of Tanis, in order to find the Well of Souls and thus the location of the Ark of the Covenant before the Nazis get to it. Gonna be busy.
Friday
last day of work, I anticipate awkward inter-cultural farewell scenes..
Saturday
farewell from the NZ volunteers and welcoming in a new volunteer. Like the beginning of Platoon with the tired old vets going out and the rookies coming in. Moving things out of our flat. Partying in Moshi with fellow volunteers into the wee hours of Sunday.
Sunday
Get our hung over carcasses to the airport and fly into Entebbe, Uganda. There till Thursday night. Fly back to Moshi.
Friday
Crashing at a friend's place in Moshi. Last full day in Tanzania. What to do on this day...hmmm
Saturday
Fly out of Kilimanjaro via Zanzibar (sigh), Dar Es Salaam, Dubai, Sydney?Melbourne? (not sure), Auckland. I dunno, it was kinda booked a bit rushed...so long as I have inflight movies I'm cool.
Plus I have to take the Staff of Ra to the Map Room in the lost city of Tanis, in order to find the Well of Souls and thus the location of the Ark of the Covenant before the Nazis get to it. Gonna be busy.
Monday, February 28, 2011
The Road Goes Ever On
(The 2010 marathon route, the 2011 route is essentially the same)
Wow. The marathon business was a quite bit harder than I expected it to be...its Tuesday and I am still in pain/limping/having trouble sitting and standing up. My legs have tightened up something awful.
As race day got closer, I was starting to get a bit more subdued (read-freaked out)about the whole thing. The moments of terror were offset though by the fun moments like registering and getting my race number, buying up sodas and bananas for post race recovery and most importantly hanging out with friends and fellow full/half/5 km fun run runners.
Saturday night, a whole group of us went out for the pre-race eats, an injection of carbohydrates at a local multi-food-discipline eatery. In hindsight, I wonder if my choice of fish burger and chips was the best elite athlete fare. At least it was a better choice than Daudi's slightly-past-its-used-by-date prawn sushi. Good choice to send that back to the chef methinks, Daudi man.
(the last supper...)
Retired to bed at 10pm and was kept awake most of the night by the yapping toy dogs that live at our place. I fitfully slept, dreaming of inflicting animal cruelty. We were woken at 530am by blaring bass music from the nearby Stadium. Maybe acting as an alarm clock for the locals?
The wife and I dressed quickly and ate some banana. Daudi turned up, we made sure we all had on some red/black colours on ie Canterbury colours to support Earthquake ravaged Christchurch. Just enough time for a quick Superman symbol vivid tattoo on my arm for luck, then we headed out the door for the stadium ie a 10 minute walk from our place.
(elite athletes at 530am Sunday morning)
We got to the start line at 627am...cutting it a little fine. Hmmm were not as many people running the full marathon as I thought there would be. Hoped I'd kinda blend in more. Had time to do some mock hamstring stretching and other stadium crowd pleasing moves, a quick cross of myself and BANG and my trainer (ie my wife who has run 3 marathons before) and I were off.
The first stretch was a fast paced (for me) grind down the main road leading to Dar Es Salaam out of Moshi. I felt okay. Had to keep an eye out for traffic trundling along or pulling over to the side to pick up/let go passengers. No road closures in Tanzania nor designated running lanes, I'm afraid. Not as many race marshals or water stops as I would have liked and not a portaloo anywhere. Oh well, elite athletes must do as elite athletes do. A sprightly old Tanzanian was getting a lot of acclaim from bystanders 'Babu! Babu!' they shouted enthusiastically.
As we jogged towards the turn around point, we saw the Kenyan/Tanzanian race leaders shooting past us in the opposite direction. Cuss me. They were ridiculously fast, inhuman. Sprinting hard, and they would maintain that pace for the remainder of the 42km race. (The winner this year, a Kenyan, did the full marathon in 2 hours, 17 minutes and 8 seconds. That's phenomenal. My final time would be far less stellar.)
We turned around at the 8km mark, had some water and headed back into the suburbs of Moshi...funny I wasn't seeing many other runners in sight. Awkward. Nor a lot of route signage in town. Lots of curious or laughing locals, dog carts and the odd vehicle to avoid. People busting their gut laughing as we ran past a big fruit/vege market. Liked the guy who yelled out 'Superman!' on seeing my hastily applied arm tattoo as I ran past.
Between the 15-18km mark my pace was noticeably slowing, and I was having the odd walking break. I stopped for a cheeky toilet break behind a convenient termite mound.
After more water as we got over the 21 km mark (ie halfway) I was really, really feeling it. My quad muscles were screaming. Every step felt increasingly like someone was stabbing my thighs. I began to feel nauseous, like I didn't want any water or any of the energy gels my wife was carrying. I had never felt that bad during a run before. Think I just was feeling the distance. Despite my trainer/wife's best efforts to encourage me, I started increasingly walking. We were going steadily uphill now, increasing the gradient as we headed towards the Mountain.
Around the 28 kilometre mark I was increasingly despairing, hating it, whinging and sniffling with the pain. My wife remained patient. I got so angry cos I wanted to run but my legs were hurting more and more every time I tried to just get into a good pace. Mentally, I was not in a good place. I kept telling my trainer to bugger off and leave me to walk alone so at least she could do a good effort, but she refused. Was sick of kids coming up to ask for money/Ipods/cellphones. Sick of local spectators snorting with contempt as we trudged past. Saw wazungu runners heading back down the hill swarmed by local kids or in one instance almost taken out by impatient drivers.
We met up with Daudi who had burnt us off but was having trouble with an old knee injury. As we trudged, our intrepid friend Intrepid turned up on the back of a motorcycle with bananas for us. She had run a half marathon that morning and was now here to give support to her fellow elite athletes. Cheers! We also got encouraging phone calls from Dr Bob along the way which helped our spirits.
I walked/shuffled/jogged in smaller and smaller spurts on towards the 31 km turnaround point. The scenery was beautiful with rolling coffee fields but I was too self pitying to care. The wife tried increasingly harder to shake me out of my funk and get me to run....but it hurt so much. I did have a nice chat to a mellow American runner and a wiry old Canadian on the way: 'look at it this way, you are beating everyone who stayed home on the couch'.
I felt a bit better mentally once we got to the turnaround point and were going down hill, but my legs kept feeling worse. Agony (as I kept telling my trainer repeatedly). It was around noon and the Sun was becoming more and more of a factor beating down on us.
As I felt more hope as we got closer to 38, 39 km marks, I started shuffling a little bit faster. Funny how hope/despair affects physical performance.
By now most of the water stops had been dismantled, we were two runners in a race that-bar a few other stragglers-was pretty much over. We were moving amongst vehicles and pedestrians just going about their Sunday business. We periodically saw an ambulance drive past to check if we were okay.
About the 41 km mark, I finally kicked off the funk and put everything into a final run for the finish line. Was funny running towards the stadium as lots of people were heading out of it home...we had no idea where to go. Finally we got directions and headed into the home stretch. The 'Start/Finish' arch had been taken down already but I didn't care.
(here they come!)
(there they go!)
There were still a lot of people in the stadium, and a live band so we got some cheers (particularly from our support crew) as we hit the finish line.
Yes! 42.2 km done in a very poor time of 6:54. But yo, I went the distance.
Official race results:
http://www.kilimanjaromarathon.com/upload/Results/42_2KMRaceResults.pdf
(My trainer is happy it's done, cheers Bibi Stones for the photos!)
People were congratulating us but I was spacing out in the hot sun. I grabbed my medal/t-shirt for finishing and vainly looked for some shade. Bibi Stone's husband drove me home and I collapsed on a bed in a darkened room. I hoped I wasn't going to suffer the same fate as the first marathon runner in 490 BC. I was dehydrated, hadn't eaten solid food all day, had feet covered in blisters, chafing in places you don't want chafing and I could barely sit/stand/move. I started chugging back sodas and water. The wife came home with the others and we headed (slowly and painfully!) to our stalwart American friend Doctor Bob's place for showers and celebratory margaritas!
Daudi (who rocks for completing the event on a bad knee) and Bexter eventually headed off home to Arusha, Intrepid, Franatee and I decided to stay the night at Dr Bobs. More drinks and we slowly faded to sleep while watching the movie 'Run Fatboy Run' on a computer.
We had sensibly taken Monday off as leave in order to recover. We swam in the YMCA pool, said goodbye to Intrepid (maybe for the last time before we leave Tanzania, sigh) then we relaxed the rest of the day.
My 'trainer' without my knowledge had not drunk/eaten enough Monday to recover properly so come monday evening, she was really ill. C'mon mke, you need to drink more freaking water! I put her to bed and kept an eye on her. Tut. Tut. She's feeling much better now though.
Jerry's Final Thought
So 'marathon' is now ticked off the bucket list. I'm sure some serious runners are likily to sneer at my paltry effort and maybe wonder what the point was if I didn't put in lots of long distance training and thus not get a respectable time. 'Were there only old people behind you?' a manager asked at work when I told her my time. Ha.
But I'm only really racing against myself ain't I? And just goin' the distance is a big deal for me. Yeah, I'm disappointed at my time but humbled as well. You can't be mentally or physically strong without the good prep. Rocky had heart, but he put that heart into training hard. I'll get there.
I'm still stoked I finished this thing. Without my wife encouraging me to run consistently this year, making me believe it was possible that I could finish a marathon, I wouldn't have done it. I was her support climbing Kili, she was mine as we ran/walked a marathon. We fill each other's gaps.
We did it. Yo Franatee, we did it.
(3rd, 4th and 5th to last place getters hang out after the run)
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Kilimanjaro Marathon in two days
'You know what you have to do. Do it. Do it.'
Duke to Rocky, Rocky IV
A running event seems a pretty unimportant thing compared to the events going on back home in post-Earthquake devastated Christchurch. I've felt flat, down and far from home all week thinking about this tragedy. Yet proud of the kiwis and rescue workers digging deep and helping each other out. The thoughts and prayers of us volunteers are with you all. If you have not seen it already, this link shows where you can donate to victims of this disaster :
http://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/article.cfm?c_id=1&objectid=10708187
All the wife and I can do for now is to dedicate our marathon effort to the people of Christchurch, to your grit and your pain and endurance. I'll try to find some items of red and black colour -ie Canterbury colours- to wear.
I haven't done enough long runs to prepare for this event. Yes, I have been running fairly consistently while in Tanzania but they've mostly been short distance. I'm not in the right shape, too soft from my desk job. I don't have fancy gear, just a black singlet and shorts. All I got is heart.
A 42.2 kilometre run starting Sunday Feb 27 2011 at 630am. A route starting at Moshi Stadium at 630am, running down the road that goes to Dar Es Salaam before turning and winding around the suburbs of Moshi town before heading up, up, up a gradually steep incline towards Mount Kilimanjaro before turning at the 31km mark or so and careening down again to the finish line at the Stadium.
I just wanna go the distance. I want to earn some self respect. I want to represent for the people back home who are doing the real suffering/work/grieving/rebuilding.
Let's see what happens.
Postscript
Just went and officially registered/paid. No backing out now. The race number alloted to me is '126'. If you want some obscure trivia, '126' is considered a lucky number in Judaism:
In Hebrew, each letter also has a numerical value. So, for example, the word for "life" in Hebrew is composed of two letters whose numerical value is 18.
126 is 7 times 18 ie 7 x "life" =life for each day of the week ie a blessing.
Duke to Rocky, Rocky IV
A running event seems a pretty unimportant thing compared to the events going on back home in post-Earthquake devastated Christchurch. I've felt flat, down and far from home all week thinking about this tragedy. Yet proud of the kiwis and rescue workers digging deep and helping each other out. The thoughts and prayers of us volunteers are with you all. If you have not seen it already, this link shows where you can donate to victims of this disaster :
http://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/article.cfm?c_id=1&objectid=10708187
All the wife and I can do for now is to dedicate our marathon effort to the people of Christchurch, to your grit and your pain and endurance. I'll try to find some items of red and black colour -ie Canterbury colours- to wear.
I haven't done enough long runs to prepare for this event. Yes, I have been running fairly consistently while in Tanzania but they've mostly been short distance. I'm not in the right shape, too soft from my desk job. I don't have fancy gear, just a black singlet and shorts. All I got is heart.
A 42.2 kilometre run starting Sunday Feb 27 2011 at 630am. A route starting at Moshi Stadium at 630am, running down the road that goes to Dar Es Salaam before turning and winding around the suburbs of Moshi town before heading up, up, up a gradually steep incline towards Mount Kilimanjaro before turning at the 31km mark or so and careening down again to the finish line at the Stadium.
I just wanna go the distance. I want to earn some self respect. I want to represent for the people back home who are doing the real suffering/work/grieving/rebuilding.
Let's see what happens.
Postscript
Just went and officially registered/paid. No backing out now. The race number alloted to me is '126'. If you want some obscure trivia, '126' is considered a lucky number in Judaism:
In Hebrew, each letter also has a numerical value. So, for example, the word for "life" in Hebrew is composed of two letters whose numerical value is 18.
126 is 7 times 18 ie 7 x "life" =life for each day of the week ie a blessing.
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