Lake Bunyonyi

Finally! Victory! I actually made it out of Kampala for a weekend, with the intent aim of... relaxing!

I didn't even bring my computer. That is serious dedication to the cause. It also helps that the law was on my side.... human subjects research regulations restrict me from being toooo loose with where I take my computer (since it contains data on human subjects research... uh... subjects).

I'm going to let pictures drive this post, since that's most of what anyone (myself included) really cares about! Just a couple stories...

To set the scene: remember the bedraggled tone of my post about field pretesting in Rakai, tack on a few massively hectic round-the-clock work-days and a delightful half-day spent trying to trans-continentally resolve trans-continental identity theft/bank-account-fraud until 12:30am Thursday (er... Friday).

The plan was to leave Good Friday morning (public holiday) at 6am for the ~8 hour drive to Lake Bunyonyi, thereby missing traffic and arriving at the lake early enough to enjoy some daylight. And then Jill (who was to be driving) called me at 11pm on Thursday to inform me that she was having car troubles and a mechanic would be coming in the morning, so hold tight. Long story short, we were finally in the car at noonish.

Getting out of Kampala makes me feel like this

Snack for the road, anybody?

And then we had the joy of dealing with a nation-wide gasoline shortage! Fortunately we managed to find a Shell station (ahhh... America) with fuel after only about 45 minutes of hunting. We decided to be smart and fill up a few extra jerry-cans to be safe. We tossed ("placed") them in the trunk, loaded up, and hit the road. The smell of gasoline was bothersome, but we figured it would air out and go away. Buuuut it didn't. In fact, it got progressively worse. Finally, after deciding we'd probably killed off enough brain-cells to forget about work, we decided to pull over and investigate. Sure enough, one of the jerry cans (read: former vegetable oil container) had a leak. Terrific. While Laura busied herself trying to clean the leaked gasoline out of the car, Jill and Selima communicated a need for a new container to a local lady in sign language and yours truly got his Macguyver on.

For extra safety!

(my favorite moment of this experience was when a girl walked by and asked us if that was gasoline or wine. Because logically we'd be tying jugs of wine to the back of our car?)

Aaaaaand off we went, right as rain and only a little bit high from accidentally huffing gasoline fumes.

Drive and drive and drive we did.

Sweet, they're still there.

Seatbelts are for sissies. So are seats. Or sitting.

Apparently this secondary school costs on the order of $5,000 per term.

Repping the Northern Hemisphere. Hard.

Jill proves her transhemisphericality.

Also, roads are for sissies.

Good Friday parade... or something.

See? By comparison our solution was quite safe.

A bit of a frontier-town feel, eh?

Aaaand that's about where photos of day 1 end. We made it to Mbarara before sun-down (route: Kampala -> Masaka -> Mbarara -> Kabale -> Lake Bunyonyi), at which point Jill expressed her desire to switch drivers (she'd been behind the wheel for about 6.5 hours). "Sure" your fearless narrator thought, "I can do this! I've driven twice for a total of 20 minutes in Kampala in a compact sedan, driving a lifted SUV at night on country roads for 2. hours should be no sweat!"

I have NEVER worked so hard driving, or been so exhausted afterwards. No streetlights, narrow roads, rampant pot-holes, oncoming drivers who feel the need to remind you of their presence by turning their high-beams on right when they pass, and the fact that African folks wearing dark clothing at night are damn hard to see... it was an adventure, to say the least!

But we made it! And I'll admit I was giggling uncontrollably most of the time (little-boy-monster-truck fantasies made real + nerves).

We stopped in Kabale and wolfed down one of the fastest meals I have ever seen four people concurrently eat - we were almost to the lake and ready to be there. The restaurant staff were clearly STOKED to have gotten the bazungu (for all of 5 minutes). Added to the general theme of fuel-related safety by hacking a small water bottle in half with my leatherman, sticking the small end in the gas tank, and, while Jill poured the extra fuel from the (vegetable oil) jug through water bottle, stabbing an air-hole in the back of the jug to prevent "glugging". Twice (two jugs of extra fuel) Macguyver round two, complete.

The boat ride across the black water in the black night surrounded by little black islands under a massively star-studded sky made it all worthwhile.

As did seeing where I was when I woke up the next morning.

Path from our cottage up to the restaurant/lounge

Byoona Amagara, on Itambara (sp?) island

The eight of us decided to disregard the ominous clouds and choppy waters and take out a couple dug-out canoes.

After about 45 minutes of failing miserably to go any definable, chosen direction, the rain started. My thought process went something along the lines of "Eff it!" and before I could give myself time to think I was diving out of the canoe into the water.

It's hard to describe the feeling exactly, but there was something about swimming in a beautiful lake in the pouring rain in Africa that was kind of amazing.

I realize it may sound silly to those of you freshly emerging from winter, but having the opportunity to be genuinely cold was wooooonderful. We bundled up and a few of us decided to put our heads together to remember how to play cribbage. Successfully! Cribbage became a theme of the weekend. And the Trans-Bay Alliance (former San Francisco resident + this former East Bay kid) held down the victors' title pretty consistently, thanks to hands like this:

Yeah, Justin. You already know you're about to get handled.

The other half of the Trans-Bay Alliance

The cottage, decorated with clothing soaked in the Rainy Canoeing Experiment

Hi Jupiter!

Swings should be everywhere, always.

"Haha! That cow is nudging Adam!"

"Haha! It's really going for him!"

"Hah- uh... wait. Adam, why are you running? Oh no now it's going for Laura!"

Laura: "GUYS SERIOUSLY GET THIS COW OFF OF ME"

[Audio track: little boys in tree laughing maniacally]

Adam makes trans-lake contact

Jill solidifies the relationship

"A UGANDAN CRESTED CRANE A UGANDAN CRESTED CRANE A UGANDAN CRESTED CRANE!!" (Uganda's national bird, on the flag and the state seal)

You can juuuust see our cottage sticking out over there

Crawdad-fisher's catch

Later, several of this little guy's family members wound up in my tummy.

Keeping it classy.

Mom and Mitch: next dogs' names?

Relaxing is reeeeally hard work.

Went for a long walk on the mainland on Sunday.

"Canteen" - must be a school

Ants are assholes. But at least they're really really efficient assholes. Gotta respect that a bit.

Mitch? Comments?

Found some little inn, comprised of 4 little bungalows and a 4-story turret. Played South African Monopoly. Ate the most expensive matoke, potatoes and beans I've ever had - 7000 shillings! (~$3.50)

Wound up back at the car and decided to drive around a bit.

This country is insultingly beautiful.

Driving back down to the lakeshore. I drove this road 2 nights previously in the pitch black.

Oh good! This makes me feel even better about my driving experience!

Canoed back to the island

"I grew up on the lake. That's why I am able to make the canoe go where I want it to."

Jerk.

The open-air shower. We couldn't figure out why the ladder was there...

View from the cottage

Aaaaand back to Kampala we went, despite the protests of the staff of the Byoona Amagara who told us we could continue staying for free, and even threatened to not call the boat to take us back to the mainland. I shoulda complied...

Jill means business.

Even the drive was pleasurable

Also also buses are for sissies.

This picture is purely for Mom: even in Uganda they've figured out to put soap in the squeegee-water at gas stations.

Some sort of inclement noise was coming from the front of Abigail's car. Justin and I discovered a screw had gone missing where it was supposed to hold together 2 plastic panels. And, Macguyver round 3, we fixed it with a safety pin.

"Let's stop and grab snacks at-- whaaaat?"

"Okay, how about Banana Chick Hunger Care instead...?"

And... homeward bound. Towards the storm (metaphor? pathetic fallacy?).