Sipi to Amudat, the land of thorns

I made the crazy decision to enter into a totally different part of Uganda: Karamoja region, the land of thorns. I met a Dutch couple while in Sipi who spoke highly of a place called Amudat where they work with the Pokot tribe. The Pokots are mainly found in Kenya, but few Ugandans know that some have ventured over the border and have been here for quite some time. The Pokots are traditional people, wearing many colourful beads and beautiful clothing. Cattle is very important to them, so important fathers are willing to circumcise their daughters to receive a higher dowry (more cattle) than uncircumcised daughters. Female Genital Mutilation (FGM) is common among the Pokot even though it is illegal in Uganda and has been since the early 2000's. In comes ZOA, a Dutch NGO (apparently famous, although I had honestly never heard of it until meeting this Dutch couple) who promotes education, gives shelter to girls that run away from their fathers for fear of FGM, hire engineers to provide sustainable water sources and even promotes conservation! This organization seemingly does it all. **EDIT: here is their website http://www.zoa-international.com/content/uganda** I'm very thankful to stay at the ZOA headquarters in Amudat where I have been given permission to pitch my tent at no cost. Annemieke, the female half of the Dutch couple, and a local ZOA employee have taken me to a local school where many of the girls have fled to from their distant villages to seek education and avoid FGM. The girls were so happy to see us visitors. We each introduced ourselves, where we're from and what we're doing here. Of course it took a bit of convincing from the local employee, who was translating into Kiswahili for the kids, for the kids to believe that I had traveled "all the way" from Entebbe. Initially people around here think I traveled by motorbike, which impresses them enough, but then when it is further explained that no motor was involved it's difficult for them to comprehend. I, however, am all the while thinking in the back of my mind that it's really no big deal seeing as how I've met someone recently who's traveled by bicycle from Ethiopia and have spoken to many who have traveled the whole continent by bicycle! That, would certainly blow these kids' minds. I realized when I was introducing myself that I should have a map of the world on me (or there should be one in each classroom) to *show* the kids *where* tiny little Canada is in the world, since they have not a tiny clue. 

Amudat town with Turkana people from Kenya dressed in colourful traditional clothing with beads and dreaded mohawks.

**PHOtO ADDED** local ZOA employee sporting Pokot beads and holding the Pokot man's traditional stick,also covered in beads.

**PHOTO ADDED** Pokot man's seat he carries with him everywhere.

So that's where I am, how about HOW I got here? Well, it was a two day trek on dirt road and dirt road only (other than the 12km downhill from Sipi -what a hoot!). The first day started out a bit dreary as I had no idea what to expect, an obscene amount of water on me and enough food for a few days just in case. No one I knew/contacted had ever cycled here before and those who have driven it don't necessarily take note as to how often they see a fruit stand, a bore hole or a school -my food, water and shelter. I had been cycling along at a very slow pace compared to what I was used to on the tarmac and didn't feel like I was really pushing myself, which can get me down in any situation. Having not cycled for 3 days beforehand, my appetite was not active, but I had eaten here and there throughout the morning. I saw a fruit stand around lunchtime and thought I'd stop for a banana or 3 (they were tiny) because I didn't know the next chance I'll get to have one. After a couple of bites my eyes start going dark, I loose motor function in my hand holding the banana, it drops and then so do I. I had been straddling my bike because there was no where to lean it against, so that comes down with me. I'm conscious as soon as I hit the ground, but weak. Luckily there was a vehicle full of army dudes, some of whom picked me and my bicycle up. The women manning the fruit stand were all telling me to rest. I sit down on the ground next to my bike in the shade. "What the hell just happened?", I asked myself. I have never in my life fainted and I could not pin point what would cause me to fain in that moment. I go through the possibilities: am I dehydrated? No, I've been drinking plenty of water as I have excess of it and even refilled my water bottle at a village earlier just in case. Am I hungry? Well, like I said my appetite had been smaller than usual, but I had made sure to eat in the morning as I usually do. Am I sick? I had not been feeling 100% the previous day, but nothing serious, just a little tired and queazy with no repercussions and I felt fine the next day. Still, two days later, I have no idea why I fainted. I felt 100% amazing right after the 1 hour nap I had on the ground in front of the fruit stand and have ever since. Was I scared? When I was going blind, yes, otherwise not really. It came as fast as it went it seems. I got a ride on the back of a banana/rice/women and children transport truck with my bike for the next 10km to make up for lost time and rode for another 15km that day. Felt like I had more energy than that morning. In fact that afternoon ride was one of the best yet! I rode through the Pian Upe Game Reserve, full of vast wilderness and beautiful scenery, including a view of Mt. Kadam. I stayed at the Ugandan Wildlife Authority that night (for which I payed too much for camping, but they had flushing toilets and security) with a resident crowned crane. This crane is very habituated and probably well fed by humans. But, as many of you know, there's no way he's going to get food from my hand. He followed me most of the evening, pecking at my tent poles, displaying of sorts, and trying to steal my dinner. It was a bit of a love-hate relationship, but ended very nicely as he respected me and my food, let the food alone and came a lay next to me eventually falling asleep. Cute, cute, cute. One of my more diverse days of riding so far.

Part of the lovely downhill from Sipi.

My friend the crowned crane.

Crane, tent, bicycle.

Mt. Kadam view from the UWA campsite.

My friend displaying for me.

Good morning Mt. Kadam!

The next morning I watched the sunrise over great Mt. Kadam while I took down my tent in a bit of drizzle. It will rain on and off for the remainder of the day, which was refreshing and I much prefer rain over the hot hot sun. I traveled through what locals here don't even call "villages", but small collections of huts in the wilderness. I saw for the first time people dressed in traditional tribal clothing and jewelry yelling non-English words my way. Don't have a clue what they were saying, but I could tell they have never ever seen a mzungu female riding on a loaded bicycle through their non-village. Mt. Kadam remained in view for almost the entire 60km trip, it just kept going and going and going. It's a very spectacular mountain with jagged edges and "foothills" if you will. The greenery on the jagged foothills make them look prehistoric. 

The non-villages.

Random sunflower field...

Another side of Mt. Kadam.

So far, the journey on the dirt road had been flat flat flat, which I was thankful for. I don't mind hills on tarmac, but I couldn't imagine hills on a dirt road with this weight. Well, my imagination was not needed, I got to experience a nice dirt hill first hand. Complete with loose rocks and all. I walked some of it. The grade was high and the hill seemed endless. It took me about an hour to reach the top with a mix of pedalling and pushing. I was relieved to be at the top, but I was exhausted already and I still had 25km to Amudat. These next 25km will be tougher still with ups and downs and very little in the way of washboard-free terrain. For the next 3 hours my body, bike and bags were rattled to no end. I imagine if I was not alone, knew where I was going or wasn't so tired and discouraged from pushing my bike up that hill I would have seen that stretch in a different light. Unfortunately, this was not the case. The positive side, however, was that there were hardly any people and the very occasional vehicle. This was the least populated route I've taken yet, so it was quite peaceful with only the sounds of the birds, cows, thunder and little rain drops. Thank goodness, because I don't think I could have handled a grown man yelling "mzungu" at me in that moment very well. Having said all of this, all I had to do was think of my two tree planting friends riding a tandem bicycle on a mountain bike trail complete with roots, rocks and hills and a smile or even a giggle came about as I thought to myself "well, if they can do *that* on a tandem, surely my Surly Troll and I can handle this washboard bullshit". And if I really wanted to laugh out loud, all I had to do was think of my other tree planting friend giving up on his bicycle so much so that he got off of it, grabbed the back wheel and dragged the bike upside down a few hundred meters down the street. People and bikes have seen more difficult times Krisz, consider yourself lucky.

Dirt road hill. 

Reward given by the hill: view.

I reached Amudat in pretty good time. It was just after 3pm. Although exhausted, I was so happy to see the smiling faces of Annemieke and Adam, the Dutch couple, to greet me in ZOA. I was even more pleased to arrived at the ZOA gates able to state my name and have a question-free welcoming as the guards had been informed of my arrival. This was a very positive feeling after such a trying afternoon. Since then I've been shown around ZOA headquarters, the town of Amudat, I told you about the school, we've had dinner together, visited a church and been woken up at 5am to a blaring horn to wake the whole of WORLD it seems because, for God's sake, it's time to pray! And pray they did in amplified song form for the next two hours...the same song over and over again. Ah well, all part of the African experience, right? 

More of Amudat.

**PHOtO ADDED** I forgot to tell you that I can also see Mt. Kenya from here in Amudat!

I am now contemplating my exit strategy as my options are dirt road and more dirt road. Apparently, I might have an option to take a ride in a vehicle back to Mbale tomorrow = pavement! So, I think I'll head there tomorrow and then make my was to Soroti where Annemieke has already arranged for a bed for me in an orphanage. Perfect. I'm eager, though, to get to the southwest and visit some national parks where wildlife is abundant and I have some contacts. I'll get there. I have a feeling Rwanda is going to have to wait until next trip, which I'm fine with as I'm loving Uganda and don't want to rush it. Traveling by bike: my schedule, my itinerary, my agenda. Total freedom, ultimate liberty. Never traveling another way again.

Cycling from Kampala to Jinga to Sipi falls

I have been trying to publish this for a week. Finally found some internet!

I have been told the worst of the traffic is over. It took me probably 2 hours to get out of the city of Kampala. I walked-a-bike most of the time to avoid the car conjestion. No matter, the remainder of the route from Kampala to Jinga was stunning and so much fun! Small rolling hills, village after village as I followed the edge of a forest. I was surrounded by tropical jungle the whole time. There are tiny agricultural plots within the forest, but I wouldn't be able to tell they were there without the people working in them. I stayed in a beautiful school the first night in Naggalama. It had lots of open space, lots of shade-making trees, and tons and tons of kids of whom had never seen a tent before! I drew quite a crowd when setting it up. The school clearly makes a big effort to educate the kids on what is acceptable when it comes to sex. They have things like "Avoid bad touches and presents for sex" and "Do not take part in harmful traditional practices like early marriage" literally written on the walls! On the outdoor walls no less. 

The following day was even better and I went much farther since I didn't have to endure any traffic, just the regularly intervaled boda boda, matatu and truck. The forest grew more and more lush and the villages more and more simple/desolate. Meaning more and more "mzungu!" "mzungu"! I swear the roosters are cackling "mzungu!" at me haha. Again, when kids do it, it's cute, I just ignore the adults when they call out "mzungu". Mid-day got pretty hot, so I took a 5 min break under a shady tree (straddling my bike as there was no where to lean it up against and there's no way I'm laying that baby down!) and a family of vervet monkeys decided to cross the road right in front me, including mama with a babe. 

I arrived in Jinga in good time, ate a s**t ton of food and proceeded on an 8km dirt road to the hostel campsite. A friend I had met in Kampala was waiting for me there and laughed as soon as she saw me because I guess my face was covered in red dust! Staying here at the source of the Nile (well, in the viscinity anyways) is beautiful. Serene views, cool breeze, but still touristy. I have had one day rest and I'm ready to continue on to Sipi falls. I need to get out of the touristy areas. They're killing the budget and not condusive to learning about Ugandan culture. Having said that, I'm very greatful for the people I have met from all over -Poland, Egypt, India, etc. Lovely, wonderful people I hope to keep in touch with.

Venturing outside of the comforts of mzunguville I found myself sleeping a night at a school with a bed and a lock for my door. I had to wash from a bucket in a concrete room with a hole for a drain (also where excretion occurs), but at least I could wash! I was very thankful to have found this school because I hadn't seen much of anything for the last 20km or so. Very beautiful scenery though! Plenty of grenery interspersed with farmers' fields and the occasional swamp consisting of what look like giant green dandelions when their seeds are out. Some run down canoes exist in the swampy waters to fish tiny fish, which are dried and sold on the street. 

The headmaster of the school welcomed me into his home for dinner, very humble dwellings with curtains for doors and barely enough light to see each other's facial features. As I struggled to wash down the fatty meat with a soda, their gift to me as their "special guest", the room proceeded to fill with smoke as I believe their wood stove used for cooking was inside their two or three-room ventilation-less home. I was very grateful for the food as there was plenty of it and felt badly that I was the only one with a soda in hand, a cold one at that. Conversation was difficult being that English was not all that well spoken and I barely could keep my eyes open having cycled some 75 or so km that day. Needlesstosay, I slept like a baby and pushed on the next morning to arrive a Hines Mission **EDIT: here is their website hineskids.org**, about 8km from Mbale. Here I had such luxuries as hot water and a CLEAN room and bed with electricity, a real toilet and real shower! They took good care of me, fed me, gave me COLED bottled water and the kids from the orphanage sang gorgeous songs filled with harmonies and a well-played djembe.

This next day of cycling involved getting through Mbale, which was a walk in the park compared to Kampala, then enduring some road construction, lots of pot holes, lots of ups and downs, all rewarded with the toughest climb yet up to Sipi falls -situated on the side of Mt. Elgon. For those of you who know of and have cycled Schnebly in Sedona, Arizona it's about the same length, but paved with a shoulder, some flat areas, but times the steepness by one million and picture dragging a 40km bike! oh yeah! This was a doooozzie! I had to walk the last 2 or 300 meters and a couple of kids pushed me up the last 100 meters-ish (of course asking for payment at the top, so I gave them each a handful of cashews). Schnebly-esque and cashews -this hill really made me think of you Dad!

A sigh of relief is an understatement to how I felt when I saw that sign reading "Sipi" at the top of the hill, even more relief was felt when I saw the sign to my accommodations shortly thereafter reading "Moses campsite". This is where I am writing from now, with the humble falls in view. It is the dry season, so nothing spectacular, but I didn't come for the falls (I've been to Brazil, tough to top the many falls there, oh yeah, and there's Victoria Falls ;) ) I came for the peace and relaxation. Cycling 3 days in a row each consisting of between 65 and 80km, it's time for at least 2 days rest. It's been great a day, I've met some amazing people (some of whom may have convinced me to alter my route a tad) and taken a taxi 12km further up from here to buy some much needed cookies and juice. Nights are cool and breezy and life is quiet here in Sipi -just what I need right now.

It's amazing how many languages I passed from Kampala to Sipi. I don't know how many, but at least a half a dozen if not more. Most languages are similar to Luganda, the main language spoken in the south, and you can at least get by with Lugandan "hello" and "thank you", but the language spoken here in Sipi is totally different and only spoken on Mt. Elgon! The change in language is shockingly drastic from the bottom of the mountain to the top. It sounds more like Arabic and Hindi than Luganda.

Change in education level has also been obvious as I move further from the south. Namely English is spoken less. For example, little Jean Paul of only 6 years old whom I stayed with in Entebbe spoke English without issue. Now I'm finding most kids don't know how to say hello, instead they say "how are you", not realizing that when I say "I'm fine, how are you?" it's a question, not simply a greeting. "I'm fine" is a common response when I say hi.

The bore whole in Naggalama school.

Everyone has to wait their turn, take their turn carrying, filling and pumping.

Mid jump!

My tent under the umbrella tree with the "Malaria kills" sign on it AT&T he Naggalama school.

Lots of these signs around the school.

The school choir singing beautiful harmonies.

Not enough buildings for all the students. Class is often outside.

Few get the chance to sit under the shade of a tree...can't imagine what it's like to take notes outside when it's raining.

Early morning hours are the best when cycling all day. 

Misty jungle, beautiful to watch while you're pedalling.

Strange, giant dandelions....or some kind of water-loving plant.

Sunset view from he hostel in jinga.

Second monkey species! The red tail.

One of the views from the hostel in Jinga. Lots of birds again :)

Floating vegetation down the Nile.

My tent to the right of a giant bird nest in Jinga.

The giant bird nest.

Early morning sun as I ride out from Jinga.

Unexpected, interesting vegetation. Not sure what is produced here.

The school I stayed at with a bed, a bucket shower and where the headmaster invited me to his home.

A couple of canoes were situated here, ready to fish tiny fish dried and sold on the street.

Swampy with that dandelion-esque plant.

On the road.

Tiny plots everywhere...jBrown :)

First sight of mt Elgon in the distance. 

Mt. Elgon a bit closer.

Some serious elevation gain in a mere kilometre, maybe less!

Quite the view already, only gets better from here.

Lots more uphill ahead.

After another hour or more of peddling in granny gear and going about as slow as one can go on a bike without loosing your balance and falling over is where  I started walking. This picture shows a morsel of what I had accomplished.

I could see Sipi falls in the distance....there is an end!

Here she is from my campsite, sorry Moses' campsite.

The slope on the valley looking out from Sipi. Hard to tell what the land used to look like as most of it is now cultivated.

The other campsite called Crow's Nest across the valley.

My tent and steed and hammock of course!