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B-something Lake Bukoba Jinja Kakamega Kampala Kigali Mfangano Island Mwanza Nairobi

The Unbloggable: My International Vacation

Well, I’m back, but I’ve been slow in posting because so much happened on vacation that I was overwhelmed by the idea of writing about it.  Now that a little time has passed, though, I feel more comfortable skipping a lot of the details, so it’s a bit easier.  So here we go!

The vacation started with a trip through Nairobi to the Kakamega Rain Forest:

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A flower in the forest just after the rain.  “Good morning, morning glory!” as some would say.

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Playing cards after our hike (and drying clothes by the fireplace):

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From Kakamega we headed across the border to Uganda, which is basically like Kenya except with more BBQ’d meat, to the town of Jinja where we slept along the Nile River.  Here’s a view of the sunset as seen from where I was eating a pizza.

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Of course we didn’t go to the Nile just to eat pizza… a bunch of us went rafting the next day, and a few of us even stayed along the river and continued rafting for the day after that as well!  Here’s a clip from the DVD we bought of our adventure.  It looks like a generic promotional video, but I am in fact in quite a few of the clips.  In my raft I sat in the front row… try to find me!


From Jinja we headed to the capital of Uganda, Kampala:

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And from there we went to small lake where we stayed a couple nights on a picturesque island.  I hiked to the other side of it and took this picture looking back at the hostel:

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From there we headed to Rwanda and the capital city of Kigali.  Rwanda is quite different from the other countries on the trip because it was not a British colony; it was Belgian.  As a result, the language is French, the food is better, and the vibe is just generally different.  Kigali’s downtown is in the background here, and in the foreground is the entrance to the Kigali Genocide museum:

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Outside of Rwanda, most people know little of the country other than its genocide.  I was no exception, and in addition to the Kigali Genocide museum, we also headed out of town to the site of a church where, during the genocide, 10,000 people stood in cramped quarters hoping that the church or the priest would help them.  The priest ratted them out and they were all killed over the course of a few days, and although a site has been set up behind the church for the bodies, the curators have left all the clothes in the church itself, and they also left behind everything else like the shrapnel holes in the roof and the blood on the altar.


In the back they have graves for the bodies what could be identified, but for everyone else they just had the bones on shelves:

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Something like this is difficult to write about, and I think I’ll favor brevity here on my blog.  I think the hard part is that, as a student of the West, I thought my understanding of the Holocaust would help me grasp a situation like Rwanda’s, but I had a hard time applying what I knew about human psychology to this tragedy.  About 10% of the country’s population was killed in a short span of time, but it wasn’t the case that brainwashed military goons were given orders after they’ve already been in the army for a while; rather, a small militia was able with some pathetic propaganda to mobilize much of the general public to not just rat out their neighbors, but to outright kill them with machetes.  It’s hard to come to terms with such a thing, and it hung heavily on my mind as I enjoyed this otherwise pleasant country.

Well, in any case, our group of four travelers split up while we were in Rwanda.  Two people flew back to Kenya, but I and one other continued on.  We headed to Tanzania and crossed over this waterfall at the border:

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The main thing we did in Tanzania was to take the biggest remaining ferry that is still running across Lake Victoria.  It’s an overnight from the town of Bukoba to the bigger city of Mwanza.  Getting to Bukoba from the Rusumo Falls was a hassle, mostly because we were at the whim of people to help us figure out transportation, and those people were liars and cheats.  We made it, though.

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From Mwanza we decided we were done with Tanzania, so we headed up to Kenya, specifically toward Mfangano Island, where supposedly they have some ancient cave paintings.  From the small motor boat that goes to Mfangano I took this picture of the neighboring boat, “The Unbwogable,” which was the inspiration for the title of this blog post.

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On the island we were discovered by a gang of small children who followed us everywhere.  I would pick them up by the arms and swing them around a bit as we’d walk, which was good fun, until one of them slipped, fell, and cried ceaselessly, making me worried that the islanders were going to think I was trying to kill all their children.  My friend (pictured below) ended up getting sick on the island (which had a ton of Tsetse Flies, although that’s not what made him sick), and that combined with the general hostility I encountered was enough motivation for us to head back to the mainland the next morning.

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From the mainland we hitched a ride on the Zain-marketing-mobile to a small ferry that crossed the lake (yet again) where we met a bus that took us to Kisumu, which is the third-largest city in Kenya behind Mombasa, my home here.  In Kisumu my friend stayed in the hospital while I stayed in a nearby hotel.  Here’s a view from my room with Lake Victoria in the background.  Not so glamorous:

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The next day I enjoyed a premium lunch at the nearby sailing club, where I overheard an Indian lady complain about the number of non-members (which was a reference to me I think,but hey, I paid the daily membership rate, so buzz off!):

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After lunch I walked over to an animal park of some sort.  It was pleasant, although not generally noteworthy other than this beautiful lakeside walk along some old railroad tracks:

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One of the animals in the park was this bee:

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From Kisumu I took the train back to Nairobi.  Here by the Kisumu train station waiting room is the kind of sign that reminds me that I’m not in America:

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The train is much like the Mombasa-Nairobi train.  I think there were fewer passenger cars, and fewer options in the dining car,  but otherwise it’s pretty similar.  The train even goes through similar-looking slums just outside Nairobi.


In Nairobi, I found Dr. Pepper in stock at the health food store (“Doctor” – remember?) so I bought one and brought it to a nearby sushi restaurant, where they refrigerated it and served it with my sushi boat.  Talk about a hard life!

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I then had a few days of official Peace Corps business in Nairobi, and then I took the bus back to Mombasa.  Whew!

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Mombasa

You have no friends in Kenya.

This is what Facebook said to me as I was setting up my account.  A presumptuous statement, but perhaps correct.

Anyhow, I set up the account a while back, but today I actually approved all my outstanding friend requests and officially stepped into the Facebook world, probably five minutes before MyFacester 2 will come along and replace it, negating all the work I put into setting up all my privacy rules.  Oh well.

I’m also now Linked In, although I didn’t put quite as much time into that.

I suppose I spent my day off doing all this online networking because this weekend left me Internet deprived, as my home became the unofficial Mombasa WiFi hotspot for visiting volunteers.  As much as I complain about my Internet connection, I heard “this is the fastest Internet I’ve used in Kenya!” on more than one occasion.  One volunteer uploaded pictures for the first time for his family to see.

From left to right, you can see three simultaneous uses for the Internet: updating the One Laptop Per Child XO-PC to support a Safaricom modem, uploading pictures to Picassa, and doing research for work:

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As usual, spending time with volunteers means eating nicer food than usual.  Most significantly, we discovered a sushi bar not far from Mombasa (it took me about 45 minutes on a matatu).  I was very happy, and the experience also made more room in wallet, in case I want to use it to hold things besides money.

The restaurant is also a club, and we were there the night before for some dancing.  I can’t say for sure who he was, but there appeared to be some sort of Indian prince there, and he sat with impeccable posture in the corner, surrounded by his jesters, who all danced around him and acted ridiculous while he looked around stoically, motionless except for his bejeweled feet tapping to the music.  I wish I had my camera at the time.

We also made a trip to the beach, because we have to live up to our “Beach Corps” nickname.  I wanted to swim, but unfortunately the tide was so low that I walked toward the water for half an hour before I gave up and came back to the shore.

Others continued further, and were met with even more resistance: two volunteers stepped on sea urchins, and one reacted by falling over and landed on even more sea urchins.  We called the Peace Corps Medical hotline and were informed that papaya should be rubbed all over the wounds.  So, we got some papaya and yes, it did seem to look better the next day.

Before we called Peace Corps, though, someone suggested using some combination of tweezers and a lighter to remove the stingers, and here are they are attempting to make that work (wide angle lens used to protect the identities of the potentially embarrassed):

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