Monday morning started slow with the plan of Aaron, the night
guard, taking DeAnna, Chalice and I to a “village” at about 10:30. We were
under the impression that this village was a relatively short boda ride away
and would only take a couple hours, but that thought was quickly dispelled as
we were walking towards the road to grab bodas and Aaron mentioned the necessity
of a boat ride across Lake Victoria and another boda ride to get to our
destination. We, of course, were stoked about the idea, so after a quick stop
in town to meet Aaron’s brother, Job, and get some cash, we hailed down 3 bodas
and took the 10 minute trip to a small community on the shore of the lake to
grab a boat. Aaron and Job took care of making the arrangements (Ugandans
always give better deals to fellow Ugandans) so after a short wait, the 5 of us
piled into an awaiting boat just like the one we took at Bujagali falls, were
joined by a handful of other Ugandans and headed off across the massive expanse
that is Lake Victoria.
The trip was beautiful; the sun glistening off the water, the
friendly chatter between us and between those who had joined us, the gentle hum
of the motor and the sound of the water as the boat sliced through it. We had
no idea where we were going but in no time at all, the driver ran the boat
ashore and the group of us awkwardly climbed over sacks of flour and crates of
soda to jump off the furthest tip of the boat, just narrowly avoiding the water
itself. As it turned out, Aarons idea of an island was more of a peninsula, but
I was immediately enchanted. As we walked up the skinny path from the water, the
bushes and trees thinned out to reveal a network of rudimentary dirt paths that
weaved through a neighbourhood of thatch huts and small brick homes. This
punctuated by beautiful trees, flowering bushes and ground cover, the waves and
greetings from the adults who were milling around the homes and the constant
cries of “Mzungu! Mzungu!” as the children would run out to meet us. After
about a half hour, the path intersected with a “main road” lined with shops and
we found 3 more bodas to take us on the next leg of our journey; a 20 minute
ride up to the highest point of the peninsula where we would find the small
school that we now knew was our destination. This trip would have been more
suited for a dirt bike or ATV (the boda that Chalice and Job were on tipped
over at one point, pinning the driver beneath it) but it was a blast and as we
neared the top, the corn stalks thinned to reveal the most incredible view of
the lake and the lush vegetation that surrounded us. It was stunning.
Upon arriving, we found a group of young children being taught
under the shade of a tree, in front of one of the two small shacks that house
the other children while they’re learning. The next hour or so was spent
meeting the teachers, the students, getting a tour of the two “classrooms” and
sitting down in the head teachers tiny office, which consisted of a table and a
few plastic chairs, to learn more about the school. Genesis Pre-Primary School;
run by almost all pastors since earlier this year after one of them received a
vision about serving this particular isolated community by giving these kids
the chance at an education.
After our meeting, in which we were informed that their greatest
need at this time was pencils, we piled into one of the classrooms with all the
staff and students to hear a few songs and have the chance at the head
teacher’s request to each say a word of encouragement to the kids through
Aaron, acting as our translator. I was overwhelmed by the beauty of this place
the second we stepped onto the shore, but there was something about watching
these children, looking into over a hundred pairs of little eyes as we sat on
the bench they had brought in for us to sit on that, I believe, left an
impression on each of. This school gives them a hope and a chance at a future
and we could not ignore the need for us to come alongside them, so there is now
a plan to purchase pencils, textbooks and other supplies in town to bring back
to them some time in the next couple weeks.
Us girls assumed we’d be going back the same way we came, but it
became very clear that that wouldn’t be the case as we followed Aaron and began
a rather treacherous decent down the side of the mountain towards the water. We
had about 8 kids in tow (the youngest ones who were finished school) who didn’t
need our help as they did this hike daily from the fishing village we were
headed to, but Aaron and Job were gracious and offered their hands to us girls
through the steeper, rockier portions of the trek; I questioned the wisdom of
wearing flip flops many times during the hour it took to reach the village. It
was a charming place, at the very least. Mukene (little fish) were laid out to
dry in the sun, likely to be shipped off to Jinja and other towns to be sold in
the markets, and the shore was lined with numerous long fishing boats; one of
which we would be hiring to take us back to Jinja. All of us were starving at
this point and were informed that we had two choices: go straight back to Jinja
or stop at an island off in the distance that we were told had a restaurant.
Not wanting to pass up any opportunity for adventure, we
quickly decided to head to this unknown island to see what we could find. It
turned out to be a bird sanctuary/resort called Samuka Island that housed a
restaurant and a handful of little cabins. The place was deserted. We were
greeted by a woman upon arriving and were told that the restaurant had no menu
and, essentially, no food, but they could scrounge up chicken and chips for
each of us if we chose to stay and wait.
About an hour later, after a
considerable amount of silliness due to hunger and sun exposure, we had the
best chicken I’ve probably ever tasted. Part of this silliness involved singing
some rather bad harmonies to worship music care of Aaron and his guitar that
ended up getting us a job offer from the manager of the resort to entertain his
guests, but we’re pretty sure he just wanted us to come back and bring our
friends for the benefit of his business.
After lunch, we returned to our awaiting taxi boat and enjoyed the
half hour ride across the lake as the sun was beginning to go down. This boat
ride included a whole lot more craziness from the three of us girls and, we’re
thinking, took away any doubt the Ugandans had that us Mzungus are just plain
crazy.
We docked, rather awkwardly, at the edge of Jinja in an industrial
part of town which included a leather factory and the foulest smell I think
I’ve ever encountered, but we had the chance walk through the community where
Aaron grew up and met a couple members of extended family on the way. As a side
note, Aaron became a Christian in his late teens and it was a choice that got
him disowned from his immediate family.
On our way, we made a quick stop at market to buy veggies and
chapatti for some homemade salsa and DeAnna and I’s boda ran out of gas on the
way, but we made it home; exhausted, a bit burnt, but incredibly grateful.
I hope this post doesn’t read too much like a point form
description of the day, because it was incredible. There were so many moments
that we just looked at each other and asked, is this real? I have always said
that Epupa Falls in northern Namibia was the most beautiful place I had ever
been, but this place, this part of Uganda comes very close. In Aaron’s own
words, “This is the real Uganda.”
