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Location:Rwanda
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Baby Gorilla
I previously mentioned that we had seen a baby gorilla in Rwanda. This is the best photo. The group we trekked has the largest Mountain gorilla in the world and the youngest. We knew this from Dr. Fawcett. Mom shielded this one week old quite carefully, but Alex was patient and nailed this shot. Check out the ear. Any Darwin-doubters out there?
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My African Friend
This morning we drove from northern Rwanda to Kigale, it's capital. Some of our group headed straight to the airport but several of us went to the Genocide Center Memorial. This was my third trip to this remarkable "museum". The Memorial explores all aspects of the Rwandan genocide but also addresses other genocides in history. The Memorial grounds also serve as a burial ground for genocide victims--it is a Memorial, a museum, a garden and a cemetery all wrapped up in one. It is boldly graphic but not overdone. I cannot imagine anyone experiencing this place without being profoundly moved. I intentionally avoided visiting on my third trip here because I find it so disturbing. I did not hesitate to take Alex, however. I firmly believe that stretching your soul once in a while is essential. We also need an occasional reminder of how truly fortunate we are. Traveling in the
"Third World" (I believe, "low-resource" country, is currently PC) for 12 days and then finishing at the Memorial is a huge dose of medication.
The irony is that my downward-spiralling heart flip-flopped 180 degrees when, after finishing the Memorial visit, I was thrilled to meet my friend Bosco in the parking lot. Bosco was my colposcopy assistant and data manager during my previous trips to Kigali. Bosco may be the nicest person on the planet. We became good friends. He followed my "Care Page" last year and sent me encouraging notes. Bosco was going to school in the Congo when the genocide happened. He lost three sisters and numerous other relatives. Nonetheless, he is a happy, cheerful person. He is exceptionally bright and fluent in English, French, Kinyarwanda and Microsoft Office. He inspires me.
When I was last in Rwanda in 2007, his wife was pregnant with their first child. Since then his daughter, Inessa, was born and 18 months later his son, Declan, was delivered. I had only seen pictures. We went to lunch and a relative dropped off his kids. He had previously written me that he wanted me to be the first "muzungu" (a mostly-affectionate term here for white persons) to shake hands with his kids.
They showed up in their Sunday best. Declan was initially a bit scared to get shoved into the arms of a white person, but Inessa was unfazed and very interested in my iPad. I know one word in Kinyarwanda--"witwande", which means "what is your name?". I said "witwande" to the little girl and she immediately responded, "Inessa"! Talk about pulling at your heart strings.
Eventually, Alex got both the kids playing Skee-ball on my iPhone. Steve Jobs should have had a film crew there! I was also very impressed with Alex's innate parenting skills. We had a great two hour visit. I will miss them.
It has been a fabulous trip, but once I again I realize there is no place like home.
WCB
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"Third World" (I believe, "low-resource" country, is currently PC) for 12 days and then finishing at the Memorial is a huge dose of medication.
The irony is that my downward-spiralling heart flip-flopped 180 degrees when, after finishing the Memorial visit, I was thrilled to meet my friend Bosco in the parking lot. Bosco was my colposcopy assistant and data manager during my previous trips to Kigali. Bosco may be the nicest person on the planet. We became good friends. He followed my "Care Page" last year and sent me encouraging notes. Bosco was going to school in the Congo when the genocide happened. He lost three sisters and numerous other relatives. Nonetheless, he is a happy, cheerful person. He is exceptionally bright and fluent in English, French, Kinyarwanda and Microsoft Office. He inspires me.
When I was last in Rwanda in 2007, his wife was pregnant with their first child. Since then his daughter, Inessa, was born and 18 months later his son, Declan, was delivered. I had only seen pictures. We went to lunch and a relative dropped off his kids. He had previously written me that he wanted me to be the first "muzungu" (a mostly-affectionate term here for white persons) to shake hands with his kids.
They showed up in their Sunday best. Declan was initially a bit scared to get shoved into the arms of a white person, but Inessa was unfazed and very interested in my iPad. I know one word in Kinyarwanda--"witwande", which means "what is your name?". I said "witwande" to the little girl and she immediately responded, "Inessa"! Talk about pulling at your heart strings.
Eventually, Alex got both the kids playing Skee-ball on my iPhone. Steve Jobs should have had a film crew there! I was also very impressed with Alex's innate parenting skills. We had a great two hour visit. I will miss them.
It has been a fabulous trip, but once I again I realize there is no place like home.
WCB
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BETTER LATE THAN NEVER!
Reviewing my "draft" posts, I realized I had never sent this. It was WAY early in our journey. The following was written almost two weeks ago.
Alex has done an excellent job describing our Chimp trek today. My extraordinary good luck with Primate trekking continues. I had been told that chimp trekking was a much more precarious process than gorilla trekking. Chimps are constantly on the move and tend to hang around high in the trees, making observation by tourists difficult. I have been warned that many a group has trekked for hours and hours only to catch a brief glimpse of a chimp or two high in the trees. We got out of our vehicles and as the Park Ranger started to give his schpiel, two chimps crossed the road 20 yards behind him. It was Chimp-o-rama for the next two hours and we never wandered more than a hundred yards off the forest road.
Our first day and a half have been spectacular. We are staying on the edge of an ancient crater:
The birding is spectacular:
-
And there are dogs here:
Braving the potential acquisition of schistozomiasis, Alex and I decided a swim in a volcanic lake in Uganda was a must:
The weather is perfect--warm and sunny during the day, cool in the evenings, minimal humidity.
Bill
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Alex has done an excellent job describing our Chimp trek today. My extraordinary good luck with Primate trekking continues. I had been told that chimp trekking was a much more precarious process than gorilla trekking. Chimps are constantly on the move and tend to hang around high in the trees, making observation by tourists difficult. I have been warned that many a group has trekked for hours and hours only to catch a brief glimpse of a chimp or two high in the trees. We got out of our vehicles and as the Park Ranger started to give his schpiel, two chimps crossed the road 20 yards behind him. It was Chimp-o-rama for the next two hours and we never wandered more than a hundred yards off the forest road.
Our first day and a half have been spectacular. We are staying on the edge of an ancient crater:
The birding is spectacular:
-
And there are dogs here:
Braving the potential acquisition of schistozomiasis, Alex and I decided a swim in a volcanic lake in Uganda was a must:
The weather is perfect--warm and sunny during the day, cool in the evenings, minimal humidity.
Bill
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Location:KIGALI AIRPORT, RWANDA
Friday, August 13, 2010
Guhonda!!!!!
Alex might be mad at me, but I had to quickly post at least a picture or two of this huge gorilla. There are a lot more great pictures, including a glimpse of a one week-old baby gorilla!
Alex wants the Bears to recruit this guy to play defensive line.
Okay, three pictures.
WCB
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Alex wants the Bears to recruit this guy to play defensive line.
Okay, three pictures.
WCB
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Location:Rwanda
Primate Photos
Here are three Gorilla Pictures from our trekking in Bwindi, Uganda. Alex describes our trek in great detail in a previous post. He took all the photos.
Last night we were joined for dinner by Dr. Katie Fawcett, the current Director of the Diane Fossey Gorilla Fund. A PhD primatologist, she gave us a great deal of insight into these amazing creatures.
We have just returned from an even better trek in Rwanda. We visited the Sabyinyo Group, the same group Cathy and I trekked in 2005. The only silverback in this group, Guhonda, is the largest gorilla in the world. We got VERY close to him. At one point, he took off down a path so close to Alex that the guide had to grab Alex's shirt and pull him back. I think Guhonda grazed Alex on the way to wherever he was going. At one point I was less than 6 feet from him. We were extremely lucky. We will post pictures from today's trek soon, I hope.
WCB
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Location:Parc du Volcans, Rwanda
Good Primate Karma!
En route from Myewa Lodge in the northern sector of Queen Elizabeth National Park to our current location, we stopped off for our second scheduled chimpanzee trek. A single group of chimps have been habituated in the K Gorge, a spectacularly beautiful mini-Grand Canyon. For perspective, our family has enjoyed many hours in the Rio Grande Gorge near Taos, New Mexico. This Ugandan gorge is less wide and considerably less deep, but as you descend you encounter lush tropical forest.
The Park Rangers will only allow groups of 8 to visit the chimps. Since
there are 13 of us, we had to go in two shifts. Alex and I volunteered to go in the second group. As we waited approximately two hours at the Ranger station, Alex and I played SkeeBall on my iPhone: I can't remember who won.
The first group returned enthusiastic but not ebullient. They saw half a dozen chimps but all were quietly resting high in the trees. They said the walk in the base of the gorge was spectacular, however.
Our group readied to go. We got a short briefing from our guide, Bernard, a very charming and knowledgeable, AK-47-toting, Ugandan. As we were about halfway down the easy descent, the chimps started SCREAMING. We reached the small river at the bottom of the gorge in about ten minutes, turned right and there were Hatari and Brutus sitting in branches about 15 feet above the ground! Hatari is the alpha male of this group and Brutus is number 3. They were both lounging in the tree and seemed to intentionally keep their backs to us. We waited them out, however. We moved around the base of the tree as best we could given the density of the ground foliage. Finally they both turned toward us and, eventually, the sun broke through the dense forest canopy, albeit briefly. Hatari finally gave us this view. We watched him for a half hour or so and then walked through, and out of, the canyon. Yes, the scenery and vegetation were beautiful, but nothing compares to gazing eye to eye with one of our ancestors.
WCB
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The Park Rangers will only allow groups of 8 to visit the chimps. Since
there are 13 of us, we had to go in two shifts. Alex and I volunteered to go in the second group. As we waited approximately two hours at the Ranger station, Alex and I played SkeeBall on my iPhone: I can't remember who won.
The first group returned enthusiastic but not ebullient. They saw half a dozen chimps but all were quietly resting high in the trees. They said the walk in the base of the gorge was spectacular, however.
Our group readied to go. We got a short briefing from our guide, Bernard, a very charming and knowledgeable, AK-47-toting, Ugandan. As we were about halfway down the easy descent, the chimps started SCREAMING. We reached the small river at the bottom of the gorge in about ten minutes, turned right and there were Hatari and Brutus sitting in branches about 15 feet above the ground! Hatari is the alpha male of this group and Brutus is number 3. They were both lounging in the tree and seemed to intentionally keep their backs to us. We waited them out, however. We moved around the base of the tree as best we could given the density of the ground foliage. Finally they both turned toward us and, eventually, the sun broke through the dense forest canopy, albeit briefly. Hatari finally gave us this view. We watched him for a half hour or so and then walked through, and out of, the canyon. Yes, the scenery and vegetation were beautiful, but nothing compares to gazing eye to eye with one of our ancestors.
WCB
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Location:Ishash Tented Camp, Southern Uganda
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Ugandan Gorilla Trekking
The problem with an impromptu African safari is that this continent requries a lot of foresight and planning. Billed as a primate safari, our trip was intended to primarily feature two gorilla treks, one in Uganda and one in Rwanda. As the last two to join the group of travelers, Dad and I missed the window during which we could have purchased Ugandan Gorilla Trekking Permits. So, as we entered the Bwindi Impenetrable National Park, we had no idea whether or not we would actually be able to search for our ancestral amigos. Our lead driver, a slick character who missed his calling as a talent agent or used car saleseman by the name of William, told us he had a friend who would take us on a "nature walk" for a significantly reduced fee that would essentially act as a black market gorilla trek. Needless to say we were more than a little skeptical. However, William's wheeling and dealing resulted in actual Ugandan gorilla permits; well, almost. William secured us the right to hike with gorillas that were not entirely habituated.
Let me explain. An ordinary gorilla trek allows a tourist one hour with a family of gorillas that, over time, learned to feel at ease when humans came to visit. This is a process that takes years and multiple generations of gorillas to come to fruition and without it, the gorillas have the potential to act like any other wild animal would and, if frightened, tear us limb from limb. So we had no guarantees: maybe we wouldn't find the gorillas, maybe we would see a patch of fur from the distance, maybe the male silverback would hoist me above his head and the entire family would bow to me as their deity. We just didn't know.
William excitedly told us that our group (Dad, myself, our intrepid safari leader Jim, and two thirds of the family we went chimp trekking with the first go around) was the closest to the gorillas. The night before prompted several excited fist pumps between Dad and I, seeing as upon arrival we had to realistically consider the possibility that we would not have the opportunity to trek. Our fist bumps turned out to be somewhat premature. Ugandan English is an interesting paradox; while the driver's english was very proficient from a word, structure, and pronounciation standpoint, the actual transmission of ideas was not always successful. What William originally meant was that our group was the closest once we had actually arrived at the beginning of our hike. It took us three and a half hours of ungodly bumpy, dangerous mountain roads for us to get to the base of our hike, on top of which was a thirty minute period when we sat in a hostel and drank tea while waiting for the go ahead cell phone call. And to think we had anticipated a fifteen minute drive. What William really meant was that our group was the closest after our drive, only fifteen minutes away. Well, we had traveled thousands of miles by air and miserable ground to get there and the minor snafu in translation was not exactly a major detterent.
Or was it? We met our ranger guide, Imhe (that is as close to his name as I can recall). We literally walked off the road and into the forest. This forest, known as the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest, is aptly named. In my years of outdoor experience, I have summitted Lobo Peak in New Mexico, hiked up and down the Rio Grande Gorge, portaged sixty-five pounds of canoe and an additional fifteen of backpack while weighting no more than one hundred pounds as a younger teenager through swamps so wet that murky brown water concealed my lower appendages, and in between all of these hiked damn near every mountain trail in Northern New Mexico with a minimum altitude of seven thousand feet. Now that I've listed my hiking and exploring C.V., you should realize that I am very experienced and adept at hiking, climbing, trekking, or whichever verb you wish to use for the action of exploring long distances on foot. Given that experience, I need to make one thing absolutely clear: this was far from a leisurely stroll through the jungle.
The initial descent, for the first leg took us from a mountain top into the adjoining valley, was analogous to jumping into an elevator shaft. The forest in Bwindi is so heavily populated by green growth that the dirt floor was rarely to be seen and often covered with at least three inches of foliage, either dead of alive. If you weren't careful any step could cause you to lose your footing, a fate that befell all six of us. Luckily, because the hill was so steep, it only took about fifteen minutes to get down to the gorilla clearing; except, to our instant dismay, the gorillas were not to be found. After all, these wild apes were free to wander as they saw fit and had no obligation to wait for us. The descent was only the beginning.
Gorillas have no problem moving through a forest because they are more or less unstoppable mounds of muscle. The same could not be said of us humans. We spent the next hour and forty five minutes descending into one valley, then climbing up the next mountainside, only to see that the gorillas had once again turned back down into the valley. Our feet were constantly harassed by snare-like vines that tripped everyone, as well as hidden holes in the undergrowth and fallen logs. This, coupled with the extremely angled slopes, made for a pretty difficult journey. After about two total hours, our guide let us rest while he went of alone in search of the family. The five of us sat, dejected and exhausted, wondering why in the hell we consented to pay large sums of money only to chase after animals far superior to us in virtually every non-mechanical mode of transportation. Jim inappropriately mentioned that he only saw evidence of one gorilla that was strongly resisting habituation (the gorillas always knew where we were) and the four tourists couldn't decide whether seeing only onr gorilla or none would piss us off more.
Then Imhe came back and said the gorillas were just up ahead. Yeah, we had heard that line before. Still, we ducked under branches, crawled on hour hands and knees, and braced ourselves with walking stick and jungle plants alike to keep upright until--there they were!
There were three, just hanging out in trees as one would imagine a gorilla would. We saw a mother, an adolescent, an even a silverback, which in all of my dad's three previous gorilla treks, he had never seen in a tree. They were close, maybe thirty feet away. We began snapping bad pictures when all three promptly returned to the ground and began walking away. We followed the three into a clearing (it wasn't a clearing before the apes had their say) populated by ten of the fifteen members of the family. We hiked around the perimeter of the area and saw three silverbacks, four mature mothers, two adolescents, and even one tiny gorilla baby. I thought it could get no better until I briefly locked eyes with the largest silverback.
Ndamukung Suh, the defensive tackle recently drafted #2 overall by the Detroit Lions, is listed at roughly 6'"4 305 lbs. He was my favorite player in college football this year and repeatedly destroyed every opposing athelete. This silverback was almost twice that size and half the body fat. With a head that could have outweighted me and a torso unrivaled in size by any steroid using bodybuilder, it was easy to ignore that the behemoth's shoulders and arms were strong enough that bench pressing a thousand pounds would be the equivalent of a human pushup. Looking briefly into unnervingly human eyes, I wondered to myself if this gorilla was the progenitor of intellectual thought. This was partly because of the venerable, wise expression of his face, but my sentiment carried an evolutionary and biological element as well. The Bonobo ape, currently endangered and living in Zaire/Congo (which we may have unknowningly crossed into unknowingly), is currently considered the species most genetically similar to homo sapiens. Gorillas are not that far off and look so frighteningly human that I swear this silverback could beat me at chess. I quickly averted my gaze as the pre-trek literature explicitly prohibited eye contact with the potential giant killing machines. Far be it from my skinny ass to challenege the most muscular creature I have ever seen to a dominance competition.
During this trip I realized that my poor photography skills does not preclude me from taking good pictures. Quite the contrary, with digital cameras photography skills have been rendered obsolete; when you can take hundreds of pictures, just keep shooting and eventually you will stike gold. I did and will post some of the highlights at the end of this post. We saw the baby, protected by its mother, eating leaves on the ground. I ventured a little too close and the silverback grunted a very understandable, "I'm bigger than you, get away from my kid." I backed away. We saw the adolescent hanging in the tree; he was clearly a snotty teenager because he stuck his tongue out at us a la Michael Jordan. A bush rustled and out emerged a silverback, who had remained hidden no more than twelve feet from where I was standing. Let me reiterate: I stood twelve feet from a silverback mountain gorilla in the wild, accidentally threatened his child, and lived to tell the tale. Wow.
My dad began this blog by stating that his previous gorrilla experiences were some of the paramount achievements and experiences of his life. I completely understand where he was coming from; I have seen a lot of the beauty of nature. I've seen bull elephants, lion, leopard, and cheetah, whales, great white sharks, vistas from the tops of mountains, bull moose, Victoria Falls and as of this trip, every damned eagle known to mankind. I've seen some of the architectural highlights of Europe, like Big Ben and Parliament, the Duomo, Loch Ness and the accompanying castle the name of which is currently escaping me, the Louvre, the Sagrada Familia, and countless other wonders of mortar and stone that have faded into vast expanses of my memory. I have been very fortunate. But nothing, I repeat nothing, has ever equaled the sublime wonder of seeing these magnificent animals existing in their own environment. None of us even felt the spine rattling, nausea inducing, three hour Land Cruiser ride back to our lodge because the endorphins stirred by viewing these kings under the mountain hardly waned.
And the best part? I get to do it all over again tomorrow.
**Update** Rwandan internet is not strong enough for me to upload our very high quality pictures to this blog. Pictures will be circulated when we get back to the states.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
First picture!
My very literate son has done an excellent job of describing our experiences thus far. Obviously, the one missing thing has been posting pictures. As this was the most important point of this blog, I am a bit frustrated. It is not for lack of trying. I am carrying several tons of technology with me. I have an iPhone, a digital Nikon SLR camera, an iPad with Bluetooth remote keyboard and too-numerous-to-count cables, batteries, microchips and microchip readers. I have hundreds of gigabytes of something.
Here are my excuses. At our first lodge there was dubious Internet access and certainly no Wi-Fi. Our second lodge (from where I am writing now) has Wi-Fi in the lobby but my iPad, which contains all my pictures, can't log on for some reason. I had the entire IT group at the lodge (Okay,two people) scratching their heads about it. Alex's laptop logs in just fine, thank goodness. We discovered that his laptop reads digital chips so we can download our pictures here. So, as you can see from this picture of "Crocodile Banzhaf", we are good to go. Unfortunately, our accomodations for the next four nights are permanent tent camps and Internet access may not up to snuff.
Here is my summary:
1. flight--- no sweat. All you need to make 24 hours of travel tolerable is an iPad, noise-cancelling headphones and season three of "30 Rock". I still have a few episodes to go.
2. The five hour car ride to Kibale Forest for chimp trekking was okay too. The roads in Uganda are excellent.
3. Ndali Lodge, our first accomodation, is my idea of heaven on earth. Perched on the narrow rim of an ancient volcano, the Lodge has 8 individual huts with no electricity, plenty of hot watera and views to die for. The place is owned by a young British guy, Aubrey, and his Ugandan wife, a Yale law graduate who gave up her corporate law practice in Manhattan to return to her homeland. Aubrey's grandfather bought the land long ago and then was kicked out by Idi Amin. They were invited back in the 1990s and created the lodge. The birding outside our our room was the best I have experienced in Africa (or anywhere else). The food was outstanding. There is a volcanic lake just below the lodge--they could not entirely endorse swimming in it for fear of the unlikely acquisition of a parasite. Alex and I went swimming. Best of all, they have four dogs all named after characters in "Faulty Towers". "Polly" slept in our room one night.
4. Chimp trekking in Kibale Forest was amazing- Alex has covered it.
5. We also went on a "swamp walk" in Kibale Forest. We saw 6 different species of primates in 3 hours (not including chimps, gorillas or baboons). Birding was outrageous. We saw a Great Blue Turaco--google it. It is basically a pale blue turkey with a black crest and a red and yellow beak.
5. We then drove to Myewa Lodge in Queen Elizabeth National Park. We are high on a hill that overlooks a natural channel between Lake Edward and Lake George, two of the Great Lakes of Central Africa. We took a three hour boat ride today and saw lots of elephants, cape buffalo, hippos and, of course, amazing birds. There are "pet" warthogs on the lodge grounds that remind Alex of our labradoodle, Carmen.
Tomorrow we leave at dawn for our second Chimp trek. We then continue on to the Ishasha Tented Camp for two nights. If there is Internet access, I promise I will post pictures. We have gorilla trekking awaiting us later in the week. The permit for Rwanda is secured but we have no guarantee of access in the Biwindi Impenetrable Forest here in Uganda. Somehow, I think we will make it happen.
WCB
The Heart of Darkness: Chimp Trekking in Kibale Forest
The morning began at 5:45 am. One of the staff at the Ndali Lodge, our current place of residence, woke us with coffee and after a quick breakfast, the group began our drive to the Kibale Forest at around 6:30. After about an hour long drive that featured one spectacular view of a Ugandan sunrise we arrived at the Kibale headquarters. Five people (my father, myself, and a family of three that is traveling with us) piled in a land cruiser and drove off into the forest.
I didn't wear a watch or have any sort of timepiece on my person and my sense of time, or lack thereof, was entirely displaced. I'll do my best. we drove for what seemed like ten minutes into the jungle, parked the car, and exited with our gear.
Our ranger guide, Jofar, began briefing us on the chimpanzees. We knew going into this excursion that there was no guarantee that we would even see a single primate; after all, nature doesn't exactly keep a timely schedule. Jofar looked to be in his twenties and was a rather diminutive person. He was about 5'8", very thin, and had an oddly small head. Despite his mousy body, Jofar still looked impressive. I think that was probably due to the AK-47 assault rifle slung over his back. If you are unfamiliar with an AK-47, it is the gun Hollywood has convinced us is the Russian terrorist's weapon of choice universally recognized by its banana clip.
"These primates are habituated; there are about 120 habituated chimps out of 1200 in Kibale Forest," began Jofar. "I don't know how long we are going to have to trek before we see them, but if we do find them remember that while they are habituated, we still need to give them space and..." Jofar suddenly looked puzzled as five rich white people started pointing, smiling, and grabbing their cameras. Jofar turned and quickly mimicked our response.
Two chimpanzees, not thirty seconds into the briefing, generously decided to walk across the path and into the jungle to our left.
"Follow me!" Jofar darted off the path and guided us straight into the jungle. Now, if you know me you may also know that I don't follow directions particularly well and I always have to be in front when exploring. Naturally, I boxed out everyone else and followed Jofar's every step as we left the lit jungle path and disappeared into the dark, lush flora of the Ugandan jungle.
I had slept approximately 4 legitimate hours since leaving on Monday. Jet lag confused my internal clock as to when the hell I was supposed to be sleeping and my dad's snoring reminds me of when I shot an M-16 machine gun at college. [The M-16 is the cooler, more reliable cousin of the AK-47.] At this early hour I should have been completely exhausted. Conversely, I was completely alert as I somehow managed to traverse a jungle floor covered with vines, roots, and small plants without taking my eyes off of the two chimps. Finally, the chimps came to a halt near a fallen log. We stood about twelve feet from them and watched.
"The big one is named Tabu," Jofar knowingly instructed. "We call him that because his left hand was caught in a snare and now it is lame." It was noticeable; poor Tabu sat with his left hand bent awkwardly on the jungle floor. "All chimp families have an alpha male. His the strongest and has to win many fights. The chimps all have levels, from top to bottom. Tabu is the fifth chimp from Mobutu, the head of the family. [Mobutu was a dictator of Zaire/Congo.] Tabu is about 45 kilograms and 37 years old. [Chimps can live to 55; Mobutu is 43.]" A smaller chimp played behind Tabu, but this six year old was nameless. "We don't name them until they are 10, because we don't know their habits yet." All of the chimps have names that mean something regarding their personality.
If you have ever read Conrad's The Heart of Darkness, well, kudos. Pre-1900 literature is tough to get through. While the novel is ultimately about the potentially savage nature of man, the undertones of excitement and mystery of being human in the wild jungle became very apparent as I watched Tabu. We were not at a zoo. This wasn't Disney' recreation of the Serengeti in Florida. This was it, the darkness that Conrad spoke of over a hundred years ago. Man did not control this realm; this was Mother Nature's domain. We were the intruders, the nonnative species, the foreigners in Tabu's land. This moment was precisely why Dad and I traveled thousands of miles.
The light was terrible due in equal part to the time of day and the dense foliage above. Even though we stood so close to Tabu and his little friend, we were unable to get any great photos. We watched Tabu for a while, but I quickly grew anxious. I could hear the shrieking bark of other chimpanzees, undoubtedly informing their family that humans were around. I wanted to see more and wandered away from the group in search of the elusive chimps I could hear. My complete inability to stay in one place comes directly from my mother. Don't blame me.
In the jungle, sight becomes your third most reliable sense behind hearing and, believe it or not, intuition. It was dark enough that making out the tar black chimpanzees was nearly impossible unless you knew exactly where to look (or if the chimps were kind enough to park it right in the middle of a clearing. Thanks, Tabu). You have to hear the rustling branches and the falling fig pits to put yourself in a position to wonder if I was a chimp in the jungle, where would I be?. I trusted my ears and my gut instincts and quickly found one chimp in a tree and another running across the ground. Bending over to get a better view, I felt a stinging pain in my left calf, then a similar pain on my right thigh.
Safari ants. Damnit, Alex! I most likely should have been paying attention when the guides told us to tuck our pants into our socks. Safari ants have big mean pincers on their heads that locals actually use in place of sutures to close wounds. So yeah, they hurt a bit. I slapped at the little devils and tucked my pants in. Ouch! Another little stinging pain in my leg! Touche, Mr. Enterprising Ant. I slapped at him and, figuring he was dead, moved back to the group.
Tabu decided he was no longer interested in staying put for us tourists and suddenly ran off. We followed quickly, but Tabu knew the jungle better than us weird upright walkers. We tried to keep up, but that resulted in Dad (and camera equipment worth more than I am) faceplanting onto the jungle floor. he was fine, but had fallen because in our effort to keep pace with #5 there was no time to close the monopod. It ain't easy moving through the heart of darkness with seven feet of camera equipment. We learned our lesson. [Editor's Note, as I am rewriting this three days later now that I have internet access: I know the "heart of darkness" is generally a reference to the figurative meaning of the phrase. We are speaking more literally here.]
We turned around and headed off in the opposite direction. Jofar guided us back across the jeep path to one enormous tree that surely seemed thicker and taller than the rest. The man knew his stuff: in the tree were at least 10 huge chimpanzees swinging, sitting, eating figs (60% of their diet) and generally monkeying around. Because at this stage in our lives I am more nimble than my father, I took the camera and wandered around the massive tree's perimeter, silently begging the chimps to position themselves for a better shot.
I've previously lamented my complete inability to take a photograph of any reasonable quality on this blog and that problem followed me into the jungle. It probably didn't matter. A professional couldn't have taken anything better that what I shot. The combined forces of bad sunlight, an infinite number of tree branches, our foot long SLR lens that lacked any natural stability, and primates apathetic to our goals prevented any great pictures.
All of the sudden the jig was up; the chimp erupted into their piercing wail and abandoned tree. I guess they were done being the objects of our interest and wanted to go monkey around elsewhere. We watched them glide through the forest and elegantly descend up to fifty feet from the branches to the ground and said our goodbyes to the Kibale chimps. Keeping pace with those creatures is something I will always remember and I simply can't wait to do this again with gorillas.
ACB
I didn't wear a watch or have any sort of timepiece on my person and my sense of time, or lack thereof, was entirely displaced. I'll do my best. we drove for what seemed like ten minutes into the jungle, parked the car, and exited with our gear.
Our ranger guide, Jofar, began briefing us on the chimpanzees. We knew going into this excursion that there was no guarantee that we would even see a single primate; after all, nature doesn't exactly keep a timely schedule. Jofar looked to be in his twenties and was a rather diminutive person. He was about 5'8", very thin, and had an oddly small head. Despite his mousy body, Jofar still looked impressive. I think that was probably due to the AK-47 assault rifle slung over his back. If you are unfamiliar with an AK-47, it is the gun Hollywood has convinced us is the Russian terrorist's weapon of choice universally recognized by its banana clip.
"These primates are habituated; there are about 120 habituated chimps out of 1200 in Kibale Forest," began Jofar. "I don't know how long we are going to have to trek before we see them, but if we do find them remember that while they are habituated, we still need to give them space and..." Jofar suddenly looked puzzled as five rich white people started pointing, smiling, and grabbing their cameras. Jofar turned and quickly mimicked our response.
Two chimpanzees, not thirty seconds into the briefing, generously decided to walk across the path and into the jungle to our left.
"Follow me!" Jofar darted off the path and guided us straight into the jungle. Now, if you know me you may also know that I don't follow directions particularly well and I always have to be in front when exploring. Naturally, I boxed out everyone else and followed Jofar's every step as we left the lit jungle path and disappeared into the dark, lush flora of the Ugandan jungle.
I had slept approximately 4 legitimate hours since leaving on Monday. Jet lag confused my internal clock as to when the hell I was supposed to be sleeping and my dad's snoring reminds me of when I shot an M-16 machine gun at college. [The M-16 is the cooler, more reliable cousin of the AK-47.] At this early hour I should have been completely exhausted. Conversely, I was completely alert as I somehow managed to traverse a jungle floor covered with vines, roots, and small plants without taking my eyes off of the two chimps. Finally, the chimps came to a halt near a fallen log. We stood about twelve feet from them and watched.
"The big one is named Tabu," Jofar knowingly instructed. "We call him that because his left hand was caught in a snare and now it is lame." It was noticeable; poor Tabu sat with his left hand bent awkwardly on the jungle floor. "All chimp families have an alpha male. His the strongest and has to win many fights. The chimps all have levels, from top to bottom. Tabu is the fifth chimp from Mobutu, the head of the family. [Mobutu was a dictator of Zaire/Congo.] Tabu is about 45 kilograms and 37 years old. [Chimps can live to 55; Mobutu is 43.]" A smaller chimp played behind Tabu, but this six year old was nameless. "We don't name them until they are 10, because we don't know their habits yet." All of the chimps have names that mean something regarding their personality.
If you have ever read Conrad's The Heart of Darkness, well, kudos. Pre-1900 literature is tough to get through. While the novel is ultimately about the potentially savage nature of man, the undertones of excitement and mystery of being human in the wild jungle became very apparent as I watched Tabu. We were not at a zoo. This wasn't Disney' recreation of the Serengeti in Florida. This was it, the darkness that Conrad spoke of over a hundred years ago. Man did not control this realm; this was Mother Nature's domain. We were the intruders, the nonnative species, the foreigners in Tabu's land. This moment was precisely why Dad and I traveled thousands of miles.
The light was terrible due in equal part to the time of day and the dense foliage above. Even though we stood so close to Tabu and his little friend, we were unable to get any great photos. We watched Tabu for a while, but I quickly grew anxious. I could hear the shrieking bark of other chimpanzees, undoubtedly informing their family that humans were around. I wanted to see more and wandered away from the group in search of the elusive chimps I could hear. My complete inability to stay in one place comes directly from my mother. Don't blame me.
In the jungle, sight becomes your third most reliable sense behind hearing and, believe it or not, intuition. It was dark enough that making out the tar black chimpanzees was nearly impossible unless you knew exactly where to look (or if the chimps were kind enough to park it right in the middle of a clearing. Thanks, Tabu). You have to hear the rustling branches and the falling fig pits to put yourself in a position to wonder if I was a chimp in the jungle, where would I be?. I trusted my ears and my gut instincts and quickly found one chimp in a tree and another running across the ground. Bending over to get a better view, I felt a stinging pain in my left calf, then a similar pain on my right thigh.
Safari ants. Damnit, Alex! I most likely should have been paying attention when the guides told us to tuck our pants into our socks. Safari ants have big mean pincers on their heads that locals actually use in place of sutures to close wounds. So yeah, they hurt a bit. I slapped at the little devils and tucked my pants in. Ouch! Another little stinging pain in my leg! Touche, Mr. Enterprising Ant. I slapped at him and, figuring he was dead, moved back to the group.
Tabu decided he was no longer interested in staying put for us tourists and suddenly ran off. We followed quickly, but Tabu knew the jungle better than us weird upright walkers. We tried to keep up, but that resulted in Dad (and camera equipment worth more than I am) faceplanting onto the jungle floor. he was fine, but had fallen because in our effort to keep pace with #5 there was no time to close the monopod. It ain't easy moving through the heart of darkness with seven feet of camera equipment. We learned our lesson. [Editor's Note, as I am rewriting this three days later now that I have internet access: I know the "heart of darkness" is generally a reference to the figurative meaning of the phrase. We are speaking more literally here.]
We turned around and headed off in the opposite direction. Jofar guided us back across the jeep path to one enormous tree that surely seemed thicker and taller than the rest. The man knew his stuff: in the tree were at least 10 huge chimpanzees swinging, sitting, eating figs (60% of their diet) and generally monkeying around. Because at this stage in our lives I am more nimble than my father, I took the camera and wandered around the massive tree's perimeter, silently begging the chimps to position themselves for a better shot.
I've previously lamented my complete inability to take a photograph of any reasonable quality on this blog and that problem followed me into the jungle. It probably didn't matter. A professional couldn't have taken anything better that what I shot. The combined forces of bad sunlight, an infinite number of tree branches, our foot long SLR lens that lacked any natural stability, and primates apathetic to our goals prevented any great pictures.
All of the sudden the jig was up; the chimp erupted into their piercing wail and abandoned tree. I guess they were done being the objects of our interest and wanted to go monkey around elsewhere. We watched them glide through the forest and elegantly descend up to fifty feet from the branches to the ground and said our goodbyes to the Kibale chimps. Keeping pace with those creatures is something I will always remember and I simply can't wait to do this again with gorillas.
ACB
Explanations
Hello all-
We have varying and wavering access to the interweb over here, so these posts may be a bit anachronistic. We will try to post pictures, but because Dad puts his pictures on a machine manufactured by Steve Jobs we are naturally having difficulties.
A note on pictures: the two major activities we have done so far (chimp trekking and wetland walk) are not conducive to taking good photos. We have an SLR, so when we get good pictures they are far better than those of the point and shoot variety. However, the SLR, low lighting, and secretive animals have made actually getting good pictures difficult at this point. We are doing our best.
We have varying and wavering access to the interweb over here, so these posts may be a bit anachronistic. We will try to post pictures, but because Dad puts his pictures on a machine manufactured by Steve Jobs we are naturally having difficulties.
A note on pictures: the two major activities we have done so far (chimp trekking and wetland walk) are not conducive to taking good photos. We have an SLR, so when we get good pictures they are far better than those of the point and shoot variety. However, the SLR, low lighting, and secretive animals have made actually getting good pictures difficult at this point. We are doing our best.
Thoughts on poverty
We all know the Sartrian Stare even if the name doesn't ring a bell. It's that piercing look stemming from a visage that is at best blank and at worst vile. The only purpose of that look is to pass judgement on the person, a judgement that is almost never positive. Every day that I've been in Uganda I have been on the receiving end of the Sartrian Stare. Our travels have taken us into many small towns and villages in Uganda. Every single person along the side of the road gives me that glare and I must admit, it's beginning to take it's toll on me.
Well maybe that isn't entirely accurate. We drive past an impressive number of schools populated by an overflowing number of tiny African children bound together in matching checkered uniforms. The youngest children, no older than five, rush to the side of the road with beaming smiles and wave shouting, "How are youuuuuu?" at us as we drive by. I doubt they have any idea what that means, seeing as their inflection is completely wrong. Odds are they just learned the phrase through repetition and don't fully understand its meaning, but still. The kids love us. Their innocence blinds them to the second most obvious differences between me and them.
The primary difference is simple; I'm a white man with blond hair in Africa and believe me, I stick out. The kids look at me and see the obvious difference in pigmentation and my weird hair that hangs over my forehead instead of clinging tightly to my scalp. Their adorable looks are those of fascination and are definitely not the Sartrian Stare.
But those older than about five know that the most salient difference is not our skin: it's our money. Older Africans have seen us white folk before and there are no looks of intrigue. This continent is incredibly poor, even for the third world. Adandoned construction projects dot the landscape and are vastly outnumbered by buildings only half finished and flanked with unused raw materials such as bricks or metal siding. We have seen small children wander off into jungle more dense than even the most wild, unkempt patches of American vegetation carrying plastic jugs two third's their size in search of a natural water source. We've seen countless numbers of men pushing bicycles up steep hills loaded with at least sixty pounds of green bananas (a starchy dietary staple) in their barefeet.
I was always one of the more wealthy of my friends in Evanston, but I hardly noticed socioeconomic differences. When I went to Duke I met people so wealthy that my social status was relegated to that of the kids shouting, "How are youuu?" And now it has come full circle, my skinny ass sitting atop the economic pyramid. I can imagine those who will read this and wonder how on Earth I could worry about such things when I am on a vacation of this indelible nature. The only way I can respond is that you don't get the Sartrian Stare to this magnitude. I do.
Dad has developed an immunity to the look and rightfully so; his work in Rwanda between 2006-2008 single handedly saved hundreds of Rwandan women from certain death by cervical cancer. He's earned his niche here in Africa. I haven't, but would like to somehow. I take solace in the rationalization that my individual impact on tourism, one of the key pillars of the East African economy, does more for Uganda than 99% of its own inhabitants. But I also know that the theory that money trickles down carries about as much credibility as the sales pitch of a traveling healing-tonic salesman.
Please do not take this post as any indicator that I am not having the time of my life (again). Everything so far has been wonderful and the best lies ahead. Just know that it isn't all fun and games, because while the excitement of watching an irate bull elephant rip a candelabra cactus tree from the ground pulls on one corner of my heart, the unenviable and regrettably unchangeable plight of the average African citizen pulls on the opposite.
ACB
Well maybe that isn't entirely accurate. We drive past an impressive number of schools populated by an overflowing number of tiny African children bound together in matching checkered uniforms. The youngest children, no older than five, rush to the side of the road with beaming smiles and wave shouting, "How are youuuuuu?" at us as we drive by. I doubt they have any idea what that means, seeing as their inflection is completely wrong. Odds are they just learned the phrase through repetition and don't fully understand its meaning, but still. The kids love us. Their innocence blinds them to the second most obvious differences between me and them.
The primary difference is simple; I'm a white man with blond hair in Africa and believe me, I stick out. The kids look at me and see the obvious difference in pigmentation and my weird hair that hangs over my forehead instead of clinging tightly to my scalp. Their adorable looks are those of fascination and are definitely not the Sartrian Stare.
But those older than about five know that the most salient difference is not our skin: it's our money. Older Africans have seen us white folk before and there are no looks of intrigue. This continent is incredibly poor, even for the third world. Adandoned construction projects dot the landscape and are vastly outnumbered by buildings only half finished and flanked with unused raw materials such as bricks or metal siding. We have seen small children wander off into jungle more dense than even the most wild, unkempt patches of American vegetation carrying plastic jugs two third's their size in search of a natural water source. We've seen countless numbers of men pushing bicycles up steep hills loaded with at least sixty pounds of green bananas (a starchy dietary staple) in their barefeet.
I was always one of the more wealthy of my friends in Evanston, but I hardly noticed socioeconomic differences. When I went to Duke I met people so wealthy that my social status was relegated to that of the kids shouting, "How are youuu?" And now it has come full circle, my skinny ass sitting atop the economic pyramid. I can imagine those who will read this and wonder how on Earth I could worry about such things when I am on a vacation of this indelible nature. The only way I can respond is that you don't get the Sartrian Stare to this magnitude. I do.
Dad has developed an immunity to the look and rightfully so; his work in Rwanda between 2006-2008 single handedly saved hundreds of Rwandan women from certain death by cervical cancer. He's earned his niche here in Africa. I haven't, but would like to somehow. I take solace in the rationalization that my individual impact on tourism, one of the key pillars of the East African economy, does more for Uganda than 99% of its own inhabitants. But I also know that the theory that money trickles down carries about as much credibility as the sales pitch of a traveling healing-tonic salesman.
Please do not take this post as any indicator that I am not having the time of my life (again). Everything so far has been wonderful and the best lies ahead. Just know that it isn't all fun and games, because while the excitement of watching an irate bull elephant rip a candelabra cactus tree from the ground pulls on one corner of my heart, the unenviable and regrettably unchangeable plight of the average African citizen pulls on the opposite.
ACB
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
We Made It!
The Banzhaf men have arrived in Kampala, Uganda. We are tired, our internal clocks are confused, but we are still very excited. We head out early tomorrow morning to get the Ndali Lodge for game viewing and a chimp trek (at some point) in the Kibale National Park.
We are in the Serena Lake Victoria Hotel, which looks amazing even in the dark. Wonder what it will look like in the sunlight.
ACB/WCB
We are in the Serena Lake Victoria Hotel, which looks amazing even in the dark. Wonder what it will look like in the sunlight.
ACB/WCB
Monday, August 2, 2010
Who knew it could be so easy?
Well, having reviewed my son's first post, I have come to several conclusions. First, regarding the Red Carpet Club, it is now clear to me that he is easily amused. Second, why have I invested all this time, money and effort into this trip when all I had to do was drive him out to the airport to hang out here? Lastly, that college degree sure has paid off. When we sent him to Duke, he was already the master of BS. Now he uses bigger words. Woven into his drivel are references to Led Zeppelin and Kevin Garnett. I am so proud.
Now on to Brussels and then to Entebbe. I am looking forward to seeing an animal that is NOT a labradoodle.
WCB
Now on to Brussels and then to Entebbe. I am looking forward to seeing an animal that is NOT a labradoodle.
WCB
United Airlines presents The Red Carpet Club
Hello internet, this is Alex. My debut on this blog that has already been polluted with far too many non-African posts will continue with that theme to reveal to you all that I have indeed found the earthly manifestation of the Viking Valhalla. Hammer of the Gods, drive my ship lands (specifically right next to Gate C16). Be not afraid! For inside those double doors lies the United Airlines Red Carpet Club. For those of you who have not been experienced, the Red Carpet Club (RCC) is United's Admiral's Club and it may be the single most wonderful place on planet Earth. Why we are leaving this bastion of elegance and leisure for a primitive world of dust is entirely beyond me.
The RCC is adorned with leather couches and chairs of every color, size, and sexual orientation, a full bar with two complimentary drinks, an espresso machine (the twelve steps will have to wait; I do not supremely love myself and will succumb to chasing my own liquid dragon), free WiFi, power outlets (how could it possibly have taken this long to get power outlets?), snacks of the both the healthy and lethal variety, plants that are either real or front runners for the Flora Oscars, and gorgeous views of...well...the tarmac. Shit, even the planes look nicer from here. I've spent the past 2 months decking out what will soon be a very nice apartment in Wicker Park, yet I think all of my efforts were in vain. Nothing could be nicer than this place.
It's very quiet here. You don't often get that in airports.
So this begins the trip of a lifetime, the opportunity to experience the mystery and majesty of nature at her finest: the male silverback gorilla. Pound for pound, these wrecking machines are unstoppable Olympians that would not hesitate to rend me limb from limb. Naturally, I can't wait to stand as close as ten feet from them. I will be forever indebted to my dad for ushering me into the world of the primates, provided I do not offend the gorilla family and ensure my swift demise.
I would like to wrestle a chimpanzee, an animal that we will most likely encounter frequently. Now, the actual chances of this bout ever occurring are exactly zero, but that does not prevent my wayward subconscious from wondering. Wikipedia says the largest chimps clock in at 150lbs, which is just below my fighting weight. So from a measureables standpoint, we are even. Everyone I have told this too has instantly denounced my plan, saying things such as, "Alex, this is a horrible, horrible idea" and "You moron, they will bite and claw your eyes out." Evidently they forgot that I once wrestled and almost won a match. I also destroyed my freshmen year of high school gym class "King of the Mat" competition. Take that, Sam. I think my resume speaks for itself. "Anything is possibleeeee!"
Unfortunately for all of those following this blog, both my father and I have way too many ideas and this blog makes it just too easy for us to share them with you unfortunate readers. Some will be entertaining, informative, and/or intriguing. Most will not. Sorry about that. But there should be plenty of great photographs(maybe movies) because unlike me, my father actually knows how to properly operate one of them picture making devices.
If we have internet access one of us will check in after what could be 26 straight hours of travel.
-ACB
The RCC is adorned with leather couches and chairs of every color, size, and sexual orientation, a full bar with two complimentary drinks, an espresso machine (the twelve steps will have to wait; I do not supremely love myself and will succumb to chasing my own liquid dragon), free WiFi, power outlets (how could it possibly have taken this long to get power outlets?), snacks of the both the healthy and lethal variety, plants that are either real or front runners for the Flora Oscars, and gorgeous views of...well...the tarmac. Shit, even the planes look nicer from here. I've spent the past 2 months decking out what will soon be a very nice apartment in Wicker Park, yet I think all of my efforts were in vain. Nothing could be nicer than this place.
It's very quiet here. You don't often get that in airports.
So this begins the trip of a lifetime, the opportunity to experience the mystery and majesty of nature at her finest: the male silverback gorilla. Pound for pound, these wrecking machines are unstoppable Olympians that would not hesitate to rend me limb from limb. Naturally, I can't wait to stand as close as ten feet from them. I will be forever indebted to my dad for ushering me into the world of the primates, provided I do not offend the gorilla family and ensure my swift demise.
I would like to wrestle a chimpanzee, an animal that we will most likely encounter frequently. Now, the actual chances of this bout ever occurring are exactly zero, but that does not prevent my wayward subconscious from wondering. Wikipedia says the largest chimps clock in at 150lbs, which is just below my fighting weight. So from a measureables standpoint, we are even. Everyone I have told this too has instantly denounced my plan, saying things such as, "Alex, this is a horrible, horrible idea" and "You moron, they will bite and claw your eyes out." Evidently they forgot that I once wrestled and almost won a match. I also destroyed my freshmen year of high school gym class "King of the Mat" competition. Take that, Sam. I think my resume speaks for itself. "Anything is possibleeeee!"
Unfortunately for all of those following this blog, both my father and I have way too many ideas and this blog makes it just too easy for us to share them with you unfortunate readers. Some will be entertaining, informative, and/or intriguing. Most will not. Sorry about that. But there should be plenty of great photographs(maybe movies) because unlike me, my father actually knows how to properly operate one of them picture making devices.
If we have internet access one of us will check in after what could be 26 straight hours of travel.
-ACB
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Rwanda is safe
This will be my fourth trip to Rwanda, but my first as a tourist. It is an astonishingly beautiful country nicknamed "The Land of a Thousand Hills". I have also heard it called "The Switzerland of Africa". Yes, it is impoverished and densely populated, but if you can see past its "third worldness" it is a truly wonderful place to visit as not only is it beautiful but its people are kind, generous and very gracious to visitors. It is also very, very safe.
Many Westerners know Rwanda only because of the 1994 genocide (Hotel Rwanda, rent it if you have never seen it), so it is understandable that I am usually asked about safety when I tell people I am traveling there. There is no disputing that the genocide was a horrific event. In 90 days, Hutu extremists murdered close to a million Tutsis. The dead counted for nearly 10% of the Rwandan population. That would mean the equivalent of 30 million US citizens.
The genocide ended when the Tutsi rebel army won the civil war that had been raging on and off for several years. Huge numbers of Hutus fled the country and large numbers of Tutsi, living-in-exile, flooded into the country. The new government basically started a new country from scratch. Where they have come in the past 16 years is pretty darn astonishing. During this entire time the country has been led by Paul Kagame, the current President. There is considerable debate as to Kagame's methods, but I don't think anyone disputes that Rwanda's economic growth and its security are nothing short of amazing. Last year, Rwanda's GDP grew 8%! Thats almost unheard of in sub-Saharan Africa. Certainly, some of this is due to a large infusion of foreign aid ("pity money" as some Rwandans call it), but there is some true leadership and vision going on there, too. Kagame's very committed to science and technology: Internet and cell service is WAY better there than in Evanston.
The government is also hyper-vigilant regarding safety and security. In addition to constant concern about ethnic hatred bubbling to the surface, they know that economic growth and prosperity require security. The army is huge, well trained and ever-present. The police are numerous. Apparently, crime is dealt with severely. The net result is a very safe place for visitors. When I have lived there, Caucasian female college interns walked the poorly-lit streets of Kigali at midnight with purses in hand without concern. I feel safer there than any European capital.
I know less about Uganda, but there are some similarities. The post Idi Amin Uganda has had its ups and downs, but overall it has been considered a very safe place for travelers in the past 20 years or so.
So other than Alex's stated desire to wrestle a gorilla, I think we will be okay. Cathy says I am posting way too much before we actually leave so you may not see any new drivel for a while. Or at least until tomorrow. I have a long essay titled "Paul Kagame: Visionary Leader or just another African Dictator?" coursing through my veins. It will make Cathy cuckoo.
Bill
Many Westerners know Rwanda only because of the 1994 genocide (Hotel Rwanda, rent it if you have never seen it), so it is understandable that I am usually asked about safety when I tell people I am traveling there. There is no disputing that the genocide was a horrific event. In 90 days, Hutu extremists murdered close to a million Tutsis. The dead counted for nearly 10% of the Rwandan population. That would mean the equivalent of 30 million US citizens.
The genocide ended when the Tutsi rebel army won the civil war that had been raging on and off for several years. Huge numbers of Hutus fled the country and large numbers of Tutsi, living-in-exile, flooded into the country. The new government basically started a new country from scratch. Where they have come in the past 16 years is pretty darn astonishing. During this entire time the country has been led by Paul Kagame, the current President. There is considerable debate as to Kagame's methods, but I don't think anyone disputes that Rwanda's economic growth and its security are nothing short of amazing. Last year, Rwanda's GDP grew 8%! Thats almost unheard of in sub-Saharan Africa. Certainly, some of this is due to a large infusion of foreign aid ("pity money" as some Rwandans call it), but there is some true leadership and vision going on there, too. Kagame's very committed to science and technology: Internet and cell service is WAY better there than in Evanston.
The government is also hyper-vigilant regarding safety and security. In addition to constant concern about ethnic hatred bubbling to the surface, they know that economic growth and prosperity require security. The army is huge, well trained and ever-present. The police are numerous. Apparently, crime is dealt with severely. The net result is a very safe place for visitors. When I have lived there, Caucasian female college interns walked the poorly-lit streets of Kigali at midnight with purses in hand without concern. I feel safer there than any European capital.
I know less about Uganda, but there are some similarities. The post Idi Amin Uganda has had its ups and downs, but overall it has been considered a very safe place for travelers in the past 20 years or so.
So other than Alex's stated desire to wrestle a gorilla, I think we will be okay. Cathy says I am posting way too much before we actually leave so you may not see any new drivel for a while. Or at least until tomorrow. I have a long essay titled "Paul Kagame: Visionary Leader or just another African Dictator?" coursing through my veins. It will make Cathy cuckoo.
Bill
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Bill and Alex go in search of their ancestors
Well, we have not even left yet and already I may have a mutiny on my hands. It seems that Alex is upset that I did not use the above title for this blog instead of Banzhafrica. I had jokingly suggested we use the "ancestors" title--he liked it and did not think it was a joke. He is now threatening to set up a rival blog to compete with me. After short contemplation, I say "bring it". Healthy competition is a good thing. I bet he thinks his English degree from Duke puts him in the pole position. However, I will not go down easily. Perhaps I will amend the title of this blog in an effort to reconcile with the boy. Let me sleep on it.
This week I have received a bunch of emails from the guide of our tour containing information about the bombings in Uganda. In these messages he reassured us that we will be in very rural areas, and as such, not in a high risk situation. It prompted me to contemplate how time and experience can change the way we react to certain life events. In 2003, our original itinerary had us flying in and out of Nairobi. Several weeks before our trip, British Airways cancelled all London to Nairobi flights indefinitely due to information that Al Qaeda was planning to try to attack commercial aircraft at the Nairobi airport. Our guide re -routed us through Dar-es-Salaam, Tanzania but Cathy and I were so shaken that we came very close to canceling the trip. Thankfully, we muscled up the courage to forge ahead because we went on to have an amazing trip. This time when I heard about the Ugandan bombings, I was completely unfazed. In fact, I think it is likely that we will be even safer as a result---Ugandan security will be on ultra high-alert.
I certainly have not become more brave. Its simply that I have had time to intellectualize how incredibly remote the chance of being harmed in a terrorist incident is. Remember the ever-so-recent failed car bomb in Times Square? That car was on the corner of 45th and Broadway. Do you know how many times I strolled by that exact corner this winter? About a zillion.
In the last ten years, Uganda and Rwanda have been amongst the safest places one could travel. More on why this is in upcoming posts. So fear not, our journey will definitely be going off as planned. Whether you will hear from Alex on this site or somewhere else remains to be seen!
Ciao
Bill
This week I have received a bunch of emails from the guide of our tour containing information about the bombings in Uganda. In these messages he reassured us that we will be in very rural areas, and as such, not in a high risk situation. It prompted me to contemplate how time and experience can change the way we react to certain life events. In 2003, our original itinerary had us flying in and out of Nairobi. Several weeks before our trip, British Airways cancelled all London to Nairobi flights indefinitely due to information that Al Qaeda was planning to try to attack commercial aircraft at the Nairobi airport. Our guide re -routed us through Dar-es-Salaam, Tanzania but Cathy and I were so shaken that we came very close to canceling the trip. Thankfully, we muscled up the courage to forge ahead because we went on to have an amazing trip. This time when I heard about the Ugandan bombings, I was completely unfazed. In fact, I think it is likely that we will be even safer as a result---Ugandan security will be on ultra high-alert.
I certainly have not become more brave. Its simply that I have had time to intellectualize how incredibly remote the chance of being harmed in a terrorist incident is. Remember the ever-so-recent failed car bomb in Times Square? That car was on the corner of 45th and Broadway. Do you know how many times I strolled by that exact corner this winter? About a zillion.
In the last ten years, Uganda and Rwanda have been amongst the safest places one could travel. More on why this is in upcoming posts. So fear not, our journey will definitely be going off as planned. Whether you will hear from Alex on this site or somewhere else remains to be seen!
Ciao
Bill
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
How the trip came about
My love affair with Africa started in the summer of 2003. Cathy, Alex, Drew and I spent a month traveling in Tanzania, Zambia and South Africa. We spent about an hour in Zimbabwe and have the passport stamps to prove it, but it doesn't really count. The first three weeks we travelled with good friends and were guided by Jim Heck of Explorers World Travel. Except for a trip to see Victoria Falls, the first three weeks were spent game viewing in "the bush". I found the game viewing fascinating and exciting. I was never bored. When there wasn't action on the ground, there were almost always birds to watch. There are more than an thousand species of birds in East Africa.
In the years since, I have returned to Africa three times, always to Rwanda. The first trip Cathy joined me but the second two were solo trips. All three trips were related to a medical project I was working on and not intended as tourism. However, Africans take their time off very seriously, and I was never able to convince anyone to work on weekends. So, on each trip I went gorilla trekking on Saturdays. The famed Mountain Gorillas of this region number only about 700 and can only be found in the bamboo jungles of the Virunga mountains, a beautiful range of volcanic mountains that share the borders of Rwanda, Uganda and the DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo). Most of the gorillas seen in Western zoos are Lowland gorillas, a far more common, smaller, less beautiful species. The Mountain gorillas were made famous by the movie "Gorillas in the Mist", which dramatized the work of Dian Fossey. There are 8 "habituated" gorilla families in Parc du Volcans in Northern Rwanda (and Congo). A very limited (and lucky) number of permit-carrying tourists are guided by experienced rangers to these families each day: once found, you are allowed to observe the gorillas for one hour only. You are supposed to stay 10 feet away from these amazing ancestors at all times. What is truly stunning is that you can easily get that close! With the exception of the birth of my children, my three gorilla treks are the most exciting and awesome events of my life. Since the first trip with Cathy, I have dreamed about taking the boys.
In May, I got an email from Jim Heck offering me two spots on an August Primate Safari to Uganda and Rwanda to trek for chimpanzees and Mountain gorillas. My initial response was no-way: I have been away from work so much in the past year I could not imagine asking for yet more time off in the peak summer vacation time period. My interest was tweaked enough, however, that I checked the vacation schedule, and lo and behold, none of my partners had asked for time off during those two weeks: karma. I played the cancer card against myself and then summoned the courage to email them all with my request. Being the amazingly generous group that they are, they all immediately told me to attack my "bucket list" with gusto. I knew that Cathy was unlikely to be able to get the time off, that Drew was committed to his summer music festival in California but the itinerary would allow Alex to arrive home in time for the start of law school orientation.
So off we go. The only thing left to do is to figure out how to get Drew to Rwanda in the future. I am sure I will think of something.
Best,
Bill
Banzhafrica Prologue
Dear Friends,
Alex and I are going on an adventure. In the first two weeks of August, we will be traveling to Uganda and Rwanda on a Primate safari. Depending on WiFi availability, we will be writing to update our readers frequently. Though our focus will be on African wildlife, culture and politics, we will feel free to opine on a wide range of topics. We hope that you will post comments on our musings and also keep us updated about the comings and goings in your lives.
Best,
Bill
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