A flashlight, toilet paper, and a water bottle. The 3 things you need in Africa. I once visited Uganda, Kenya, Tanzania, and Egypt during my second summer of veterinary school. I had always wanted to travel to Africa. I discovered in veterinary school, that if you were willing to perform a research project and write a paper to be published in a journal for the school, you could get help financially with the trip. Brilliant. I would research anything St. George's wanted me to in order to get to go to Africa. My project proposal was testing the prevalence of Brucellosis in Uganda in kobs, goats, and cattle and exploring the human-domesticated wildlife interface. I worked ages that spring semester on the proposal, in between studying constantly for exams, planning the collection methods, locating places to gather the supplies once I got there, communicating with the veterinarians I'd be working with, flight searching, and strategically packing. I arrived in Entebbe, Uganda, exhausted, and without my “strategically packed” luggage. Fantastic. I had organized this trip to maximize as much of Africa as possible in a short amount of time. I had 4 short weeks to perform the research project, analyze my results in the lab, pop up to Egypt and see the pyramids, climb Mt. Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, and camp in the wild. Without my bag. First things first, I had to find a place to sleep. And by organize “my trip”, I for some reason did not think it was necessary to figure out my transport from the airport and what hotel to go to that first night. There was just so much to do for my research project that the thought of arriving in Africa by myself, alone, bag-less, not knowing a soul, never crossed my mind. I went to the tourist desk and asked for help. The nice lady helped me locate a very cheap room and even offered to drive me to it instead of me having to pay for a taxi. I knew I'd like Africa. I only needed the room for one night as I was to be back at the airport headed to Egypt to see the pyramids the next evening and hopefully my bag would have arrived by then. I arrived at the room, I guess it was a room, paid in advance, read the sign over my door to “lock all valuables at ALL times”, and collapsed onto the twin bed draped in a mosquito net, lifeless from traveling. Wow, they weren't kidding when they told me to take my anti-malarial drugs the entire time I was in Africa. 3am. I had to use the toilet, mosquitos buzzing all around. I envy people who can sleep straight through the night without having to get up and go pee. It's the same song and dance every night. 3am...slightly stirring, realize I have to pee, question whether I can just fall back asleep and make it until morning as I know once I get up, it will be nearly impossible to go back to sleep, try to "make it", awake again 20 minutes later, get up, but here's where I outsmart myself. If I get up but only open 1 eye, stumble to the bathroom, pee, and crawl back to bed, I can usually fall back asleep quite readily. But if I open both eyes, game over. So, I grab my room key, reach for the bed side lamp “one-eyed” to turn the light on, it doesn't work, in fact no electricity works during the night at this 5 star hotel, now fumble in my purse for my flashlight (why do I have a flashlight in my purse? because my mother always told me to pack my valuables and necessities in my carry-on, a lesson that takes a few times to learn), grab the flashlight, and make my way out into the open to the communal bathroom. Bathroom? Hole in the ground. At least I can see with the flashlight, and yes, I absolutely have both eyes open at this point as this is not your typical 3am bathroom trip. Toilet paper? Great. I learned about the second most important thing you need to carry with you in Africa. Never mind, I'm tough like a pioneer woman right? I'll just drip-dry and head back to bed. And I actually fell back asleep without the help of Benadryl.
Next day, Uganda is beautiful, so green, so earthy and natural. Foreign places always look so much better in the daylight. I call the airport to find out about my missing bag. They have located it, but it won't arrive until the day after I leave for Egypt. Ok, then I decide I need to get into town and find a market for a few changes of clothes. The front desk said I could just hop on the back of a Boda-Boda (motorcycle taxi) and get to town to find a cheap market for clothes. I decide while I'm in town I might as well visit the bus depot to buy my bus ticket from Uganda to Tanzania for when I return from Egypt. Boda-boda actually does not equal motorcycle taxi, it equals death wish. This boda-boda weaves in and out of traffic on the right side of the road and the wrong side of the road with me clinging on the back of him for dear life in a skirt whilst resorting to closing my eyes, as it's really a heart-attack waiting to happen if I watch his every move, and he arrives at the bus depot, complete with a screeching halt nearly launching me off the front of the death machine. I survived. Thank you Mr. Boda-Boda for not annihilating both of us in traffic with your ever so keen driving skills. I walk into the bus depot and buy the ticket. I am traveling by bus to Tanzania because I want to save money and not fly. I didn't quite realize that it would be a 27 hour bus ride without a toilet, deboarding and walking across each country's border through men with guns, and reboarding on the other side. By myself. I find that out later. As I'm buying the bus ticket and asking in broken English, as I’m not quite fluent in Swahili yet, how to get to the market, I meet Godfrey. Godfrey immediately introduces himself, helps to translate, and offers to escort me through the market. Another little angel I've met. Godfrey explains that if I were to go to the market alone, I'd get quite ripped off but not if I go with him. So I agree to let him help me. Not only does he take me to the market to buy a few changes of clothes at a fair price, but he also offers to go to the internet cafe and let me use some of his minutes to quickly email my parents that I am alive in Africa. I've recently become more and more aware of how just the right person or thing I need in life manages to appear at just the right time. Angels. So I spend the afternoon with my new friend Godfrey in the park who introduces me to my new favorite fruit, Jack fruit, tells me all about his missionary work in Uganda, and even helps me get back to the airport that evening to catch my red-eye flight to Egypt. I say my goodbyes, and we agreed to maybe meet again when I return from Egypt.
Egypt. Well, let's say I'm quite bipolar about Egypt. My little travel guide said it was perfectly easy for a single, white, Christian, non-covered female to navigate around Egypt easily. Wrong. I think the way to see Egypt is to do the "sheltered, 4 star, greyhound bus tour group" sight-seeing version. I usually prefer to stay in hostels to really experience the true culture of each new place. Probably not in Egypt, at least not alone. But nevertheless, I find myself landing in Cairo at 9 am. Not wanting to waste an entire day of sight-seeing, I go immediately from the plane on a bus headed to see the great pyramids at Giza, backpack in hand. And let’s clear something up. Travelling light is definitely THE secret. Of course, the fact that my massive Northface hiker’s “Mary Poppins” backpack is “lost in transit” did help me obligatorily with my “travelling light” motto. And I'm doing this in my I don't speak and can't read a word of Arabic, I'm definitely an American tourist, would anyone like to rob me outfit? I luckily find a sweet girl who speaks English who helps to tell me which public bus stop to get off at. And not 2 hours later, I'm walking up the ramp to the main entrance of Cheops. It's breathtaking. I'm almost to the gates when I'm approached by an Egyptian gentleman asking if "beautiful lady would like to see pyramids on camel vs. on foot?" Oh yeah, you bet. This was what I'd always dreamed of, pyramids via camel-back. I look at him sort of pondering the safety of the situation, when the gate guard chimes in "He's good guide, go with him". Well alright, if Mr. Policeman Guard says it's safe, it must be. I follow camel man back down the hill to the stables. He shows me to my sturdy horse. “Horse?! You said camel.” "Lady, we have to ride horse to other stable to get camel. It's very close". Oh, phew, I thought I was being bamboozled there for a minute. I agree to follow camel-man on horseback to the nearby stables. Three streets and four turns later, I'm in the middle of downtown bustling Cairo, no pyramids in sight, following camel-man, and am suddenly quite scared. Idiot. Let the praying begin. I see camels in the distance. Thank God. We swap the horses for camels and proceed back to the pyramids. Except this time we're going a different way. We're entering the pyramids from the back side. I think, “Oh wow, I’m pretty priveleged. This must be the important persons, sultans of the desert, secret entrance. Sweet.” We get to the gates and camel-man slips the guards some money, and then tells me we have to leave one camel behind. He has to ride on my camel if I want to go. Great. I am being bamboozled, and this is no “special persons VIP entrance”. But I can actually see the pyramids now. I'm so close. I agree to leave 1 camel behind as at least this camel has 2 humps, but now camel man wants to ride behind me on the camel. Think again Casanova. I want to view your every move. So 1 camel and 2 horses less, we are finally tromping through the sands of time to the great pyramids. And it was everything I had dreamed it would be. Absolutely fascinating that something so magnificent could be built so long ago. The tunnels inside being a cool, musty adrenaline rush. I only wished I could see inside of one with its entire splendor like it used to be. So we're back on the camel headed out the back-door entrance after viewing all 3 pyramids, passing through the shady guards again, when camel-man offers to give me "one" for free. Give me "one"? What? He says yes, points to the length of his forearm, and says Egyptian men are blessed, and no one would have to know. I can't believe I'm actually hearing this, and I want to vomit. "Casanova let me off this camel NOW!!!" "But lady you still owe me 40." "I absolutely do NOT, and I'll walk the rest of the way to the Sphinx!" I arrive at the hostel late that evening practically in tears. There's no way I'm going back out in Cairo by myself for the rest of the trip. I'll just sit here for a week. Luckily the hostel manager helped to find me a very cheap tour group to be able to join and see a few more things. I'd be able to get down to Luxor, Aswan, Philea, see the Cairo archaeological museum, go back to the Sphinx for a laser light show, and tour all around inner Cairo too. I agree so that I don't miss out on Egypt. Nice hostel, nice staff, not so nice bed-bugs. I went to breakfast the next morning and while waiting for the rest of my tour members to join me, started discussing how many mosquitos there were at night in Africa. "Mosquitos? Those aren't mosquitos. Those little bites all over your legs are bed-bug bites. The hostel's infested with them. I'm Chris". This trip just keeps getting better and better. Chris would later be quite a good friend as we travelled down to Aswan via train together and would also be crucial to a train ride incident on the way back. "Hi, Chris, I'm Brittany". Chris is from Australia. I'm always amazed at all of the Aussies I meet traveling. These people have figured it out. They get to take 1-3 month holidays every year and still keep their jobs. Oh no, I much prefer my 2 weeks vacation and 60 hour work weeks thank you very much. So Chris and I agree about one thing in Egypt. The history and sites to see are absolutely unmatched in the world. However, present-day Egyptian society confounds the whole mysticism. Societies operate differently for different reasons, but this one has no respect for the environment. People throw their trash on the ground until it's piled 2 feet high everywhere in sight and smoke continuously in all public places like cancer hasn't been invented yet. It's just such a shame as the place has so much to offer, the reason for my bipolarness towards Egypt. But nevertheless, Chris and I thoroughly enjoyed the tours throughout the south of Egypt and even shared a bottle of wine overlooking the Nile River one evening.
The train ride back up to Cairo. 6am and the train attendant comes to each car to ask what we'd like for breakfast. I ask if the price of the breakfast is included in this 1st class ticket. He says yes. Great, I'm starving. Stinky cheese and moldy bread later, Mr. Train Attendant comes by to collect money from the breakfast. What? He told me it was included. I was on a freaking budget. If I had had oodles of money to burn I would've just cut my losses, but I didn't. I refused to pay for the terrible breakfast as he lied to me. Well then, he'll just have to call the conductor over. One huge scene, floods of tears, the threat of being taken to Egyptian court, and 4 hours later, Chris is begging me to let him pay for the breakfast so we can just get out of there. I agree, but am extremely annoyed. I'm tired of being taken advantage of in this country. He tells me to pick and choose my battles. Maybe he's right. I'm still learning. A few days later, I'm headed to the Cairo airport again reminiscing over the magnificent sites I've seen as my taxi driver is throwing his drink and straw out the window whilst smoking a cigarette when I realize I am definitely still bipolar about Egypt. Will I ever go back to Egypt? Yeah, on the sheltered four-star greyhound bus tour package.
Mt. Kilimanjaro
I arrive safely back to the Entebbe, Uganda airport to find my trusty strategically packed hiker's back-pack waiting for me. I've never been so excited to see my things in all of my life. It was perfect timing as I needed to get to the bus depot that afternoon for an evening departure to Tanzania. I get to the bus depot and guess who is waiting for me? Godfrey with an entire bag of jack-fruit. Even though I've only known Godfrey for 24 hours prior to me leaving for Egypt, he feels like an old friend. I tell him all of my Egypt stories over a cup of maziwa. Another love I discovered in Africa. They make their tea in milk there, maziwa, (vs. water and adding a spot of milk at the end) which is soooo much better. Godfrey finds my travels quite ridiculous but wants to hear all about the majesty of the pyramids. A few hours later, I'm on the non airconditioned bus headed for Mt. Kilimanjaro. Toilet paper, flashlight, water bottle, strategically packed backpack, jackfruit, check. 3 hours into the bus ride I'm scanning the back of the bus and the road for a toilet. By road I mean, dirt road, unpaved, no street lights, no signs, definitely no Texaco with a slushy machine or a bathroom . Huh, well, I'm about to pee in my pants, so I do the typical American thing and mosy to the front to tap the bus driver on the shoulder to ever-so sweetly ask him just how close we were to a rest-stop. Rest-stop? Next rest-stop, Nairobi, Kenya. Apparently Africans don't drink water and don't have to pee, ever. And I'm religious about drinking enough water. Well, sir, I'm not going to make it. Mr. bus driver pulls over, and I get to squat on the side of the road in a ditch in front of a 50 passenger bus full of African faces glued to the windows observing the scene. At least I have toilet paper. Back on the bus, next adventure, deboarding the bus to walk on foot through the Uganda-Kenya border guards and gates through customs whilst being haggled to buy something from every craftsman in sight, and clinging to my passport for dear life. We do this again at the Kenya-Tanzania border. We're about 3 hours away from Moshi, Tanzania when I decide I'll have some jack-fruit as I'm famished, and then I'll wash it down with my water-bottle I filled up from the sink at the last border crossing. I refuse to buy bottle water ever. I think it's the biggest waste of money. Well, Africa is one place you should probably buy bottled water. And do I have a little bit of the Jack fruit? No, I eat the entire bag as it's my new found favorite fruit. Thanks Godfrey. I arrive to Moshi to meet my veterinary school friend at noon. Jason was studying in South Africa while I was doing my project in East Africa, and we decided to meet in Tanzania to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. My bus was late, and I had 1 hour to unload all that wasn't necessary to climb the mountain, store it at the hotel's luggage facility, and get ready to start hiking the world's tallest free-standing mountain. Jack fruit and sink water. Oh man, my tummy is hurting. 6 tums later we're on our way. I'm keeping this to myself. We get to camp 4 hours later that night, and I'm running for the toilet/hole in the ground every 30 minutes groaning in pain. No secret. I make it through the night. Next morning, surprise Mother Nature. Awesome. I am the athlete that Mother Nature visits 2, maybe 3 times a year max. Of course it's going to happen as I've got Traveler's tummy and am attempting to climb 20,000 feet. Why not. Day 2 here we come. I just need to stay hydrated. Now climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro isn't a technically difficult mountain to climb, it's the altitude that's the challenging part. Day one is a 4-5 hour hike. Day 2 is a 3 hour morning hike, break, and a 3-4 hour afternoon hike. Day 3 is a 2 hour morning hike, tea break, 3 hour afternoon hike, lunch break, 3 hour hike to the last base camp, dinner, sleep from 8pm until 11pm, wake up, start ascending via flashlight the last 5,000 feet at midnight because if you wait until daylight the ice melts making the climb too slippery, arrive at the top, enjoy the view, descend 3-4 hours to base camp again, eat lunch, hike an additional 4 hours to the lower base camp, and FINALLY sleep a full night. Then another full day's hike, another sleep, a final half-day hike, celebration ceremony complete with dancing and certificates, goodbyes, and another 27 hour bus ride back to Uganda. Smooth as molasses. Well, yes, if you don't get altitude sickness. It's 2am on that final ascent via flashlight, and I feel a wave of nausea rush through my body. Oh come on. Really? Am I going to be vomiting on this trip too? I apologize to anyone reading this that is squeamish about bodily fluids. I am a veterinarian. I see it ALL every day. I am not fazed by much anymore. So, 5 vomits and 3 dry-heaves later, one very concerned guide who keeps insisting I have mountain sickness and that he needs to get me down fast, me denying this and blaming it on the jack-fruit still (I mean seriously, I was less than 3 hours away from the summit of the world's tallest free-standing mountain, he'd have to be kidding if he thought I was calling it quits now), Jason remarking how he's never seen so many fluids come out of one girl on one trip, and we finally make it to Ohuru Peak. And it's absolutely every bit as breathtaking as I thought. Totally worth it. We take a few pictures, but I'm actually extremely weak at this point. I keep asking them to just let me sleep for 20 minutes because I'm soooo tired. It's not that I was out-of-shape. I was extremely in-shape. I was just so sick and very badly affected by the altitude. You can't predict who will be affected by altitude and who won't. And I was the girl asking our guide before the trip that if one of us can't make it to the top, there better be someone to lead the other person the whole way to the summit or else I wanted my money back. Reality check. Jason was my stronghold, my Mt. Kilimanjaro. I would have never made it without him. Our guide actually had to walkie-talkie for one of our porters to come half-way up the mountain to help assist me down with him. When I arrived at that camp they tried to make me eat some soup. Yeah right, that didn't stay down. I slept for an hour and then hiked down further. They just needed to get me down as quickly as possible. Then it was really weird, it was like I woke up. Once we reached 12,000 feet, I was absolutely fine. Mt. Kilimanjaro is something I'll never forget. I'll forever be grateful to Jason, our guides, and our porters. We all need people to depend on, people that help us through life, spiritually, mentally, and physically. You can't be Mt. Kilimanjaro all on your own. But seeing the sun rise over the top of the world's tallest free-standing mountain, priceless.
Uganda
I finally arrived back in Uganda for the real reason I came to Africa, to perform my Brucellosis project. I met Dr. Enyel and Dr. Atimnedi. Dr. Atimnedi was originally going to oversee my project, but due to family circumstances, he couldn't. I was sent then with Dr. Enyel and Dr. Masembe to Lake Mburo and Kabwoya Wildlife Reserve to collect samples. Awesome, the stuff I was dying to do! I'd be camping in the outdoors amidst lions and elephants, really roughing it. They picked me up in the Land Rover and asked why I'm wearing a skirt. Well, why not look pretty in Africa? I might run into my future husband in the field and a skirt might better my chances. "Well, it's not as hot as pants, and I can squat over the holes effectively." Oh, I'm such a lady. No husband catching with that one. "Alright, but I hope you brought pants for when we're chasing after the kobs after we've darted them". "Oh yeah, I have pants too". I have EVERYTHING essential in that backpack: pants, tank tops, shorts, my stethoscope, skirts, toilet paper, flashlight, water bottle, a pen and paper, shampoo, moose for my curls, test-tubes for the sample collections, the Daninject dart gun in the back, lollipops, a cocktail dress in case I did meet that husband, hiking boots, gear from climbing Mt. Kili, my camera, etc. They just don't understand girls. I climbed over the side of the Rover in my skirt, buckled up, and we were off. Temporarily. 3 hours into the trip, I notice our driver is going quite fast. We cross over the equator and speed through a town passing by a cop on the side of the road who is now waving us down. He is on foot. Why we turned around I'll never know. I repeat, he was on foot. The policeman tells our driver he was seriously speeding, is under arrest, and has to appear in court this afternoon, and oh by the way, can he drive the cop into town too? I move over to make room for the cop. We go back into town, and I find myself in court in Uganda. The judge tells the driver he can either pay 1 million Uganda shillings or go to jail. This is sounding like an Austin Powers movie. The driver refuses to pay the ridiculous sum of 1 million shillings and gets put into jail. So now, Dr. Enyel, Dr. Masembe, and I are sitting on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere waiting on our driver to serve his time in Africa. In the meantime, we negotiate with the judge and sort out a lower fee plus a few hours in jail vs. an entire night. Bargain. And later that night, driving a little less fast, we're back on the road again, headed to Lake Mburo. We arrive at the park, find our camp, and call it a night. The next morning I open my hut to an entire herd of wildebeasts. I nearly screamed for the entire African continent to hear, as I was just so surprised to see such a sight. It was really very cool. This wasn't the first time I'd have an animal audience. I went to take a quick bath in the outdoor shower, and as I opened that curtain to head back to my hut, I was greeted with an entire herd of impalas. They were just looking at me like "Hey, so what were you doing in there?". Amazing. I walked back to my hut to throw on pants and boots and a tank top, grab my stethoscope, and head to the Rover as we have mysterious zebra deaths to investigate. Apparently 10 had died over the last few days from unknown causes. We head out to observe the zebra herds and to look at the most recent one that died. When we arrived, we decided we needed to do a necropsy. Now, I'd never done a necropsy before as I'd only completed 4 semesters of veterinary school by that point, but when asked if I wanted to suit up, I instinctively replied "Absolutely!" One full-body white suit similar to the ones in the movie Outbreak, gloves, and a mask later, arm-deep in zebra intestines, I'm thinking this just doesn't get any better than this. Call me crazy, but I love adventures and anything epidemiology-investigation related. We determine this zebra died from Angiostrongylus lodged in its cranial mesenteric artery. We took samples. We never did find the cause of all of the mysterious zebra deaths, but never mind, we were headed to Lake Mburo for the kob darting just as soon as we helped relocate an escaped eland. Eland? Yeah, an animal 3 times the size of the Bluebell cow and our next project is to dart it, get it on the back of the Rover, and transport it back to the National Park. Count me in. The darting of the eland proved quite challenging though as there is no published scientific data on exactly how much Etorphine and Xylzaine you need to properly anesthetize an eland. We attempt round 1. A few traffic stops and wobbly eland road crossings, 10 buckets of water being poured over the eland as we were worried about fatal muscle myositis/hyperthermia, and three darting rounds later, we managed to properly anesthetize this eland and lift him into the rover via quite a bit of man-power and ropes. Eland transport, success. Now it's off to the next park, Kabwoya Wildlife Preserve. At Kabwoya, I learn the art of darting a wild animal, watching it within its herd, chasing it via the Rover until it goes down, jumping out of the Rover as you have less than 5 minutes to get to the animal, blind-fold it, put it in sternal recumbency, find its external jugular vein, take a blood sample, heart rate, temperature, and respiratory rate, take a photo, reverse the anesthesia, and get the heck out of there before it wakes up. This is awesome. We collect about 15 kob samples, 10 cattle and 10 goat samples. The goats and cattle samples don't need the darting ceremony although it's actually so much easier to collect blood from an anesthetized animal vs. a bucking calf. All in the fun though. At Kabwoya Wildlife Preserve, I also get to camp in my tent amidst the kobs and impalas, and perform a baboon necropsy. You could call me the necropsy queen at this point. I also help to dart a very angry bush-pig the local wildlife veterinarians had affectionately named “Laura Bush” at the Uganda Wildlife Center. Later in the week I analyze my results at the laboratory in Entebbe testing them for Brucellosis and and blood hemoparasites. My news-breaking scientific research results....0% Brucellosis prevalence rate. Boo. I did find a few cattle with Babesiosis though. I suppose I should be happy for the animals and their disease-free status, but I guess I was hoping for something a little more earth shaking. Oh well, 0% prevalence rate or not, Africa was an experience of a lifetime not to be missed as long as you bring your flashlight, toilet paper, and water bottle.
drip-dry? gross...
ReplyDeletewhats a kob?
do you rememeber what casanova looked like? i am started my tracking process...now...loaded and cocked