Bushenyi/Rubirizi

 

New Experiences. Another layer of this pursuit is the need to create space for experiences outside of the norm. It seems logical to predict that exposing oneself to the same stimuli continuously and consistently will produce more or less the same result. I want [and I think we all need] a new approach to life. So, off we went to Bushenyi for a week in the rolling hills of western Uganda.

Familiar faces. Aunt Flo has been in my life since my mother’s first year in Gayaza. My mother’s friendship with the Baingana clan is so intertwined with my own life’s story that, for ages, I searched for a blood connection. Surely, only blood could justify their constant recurrence in my story. It turns out we aren’t related. There is a cousin of mine who married a cousin of theirs but that's as far as it goes. Anyway, Aunt Flo, when she found out that I was looking to travel around the country, offered to host us in Bushenyi. Free road trip. Yeah.

 New experiences. Ayiko blossomed in a way that I could never have envisaged. There’s something magical in giving a child acres and acres of clean green space to roam. He climbed trees, walked with the cows, chased the dogs, scattered the chicken, rolled in the grass and, most importantly, he made a friend. They leapt over the language barrier [Edwin speaks mostly Runyankole] and made a connection that I could not have choreographed in my dreams. It is true what they say, football is the language of the world. As long as you can toss the ball back and forth, anything is possible.

Aleru – well she won Aunt Flo over. As soon as she’s weaned, I’m shipping her over for a sleep over. Away from the hustle of home, I had time to just be with her, to watch her smile, listen to her laugh and let her find peace knowing I was there – not on the other side of the house worrying about dinner or laundry.

New knowledge. I feel like I’ve been given a glimpse of my children’s true potential. I can see what would happen outside the confines of the formal education system and outside of the brown and grey of the city.

We were fortunate to link up with [aunt] Rachel, who happens to teach in Bushenyi. She introduced us to a lovely nook called Ankole Resort. If ever you find yourself in the area and need a comfortable place to hide out in, I think they’d take good care of you. They’ve got excellent muchomo too.

We drove through tea country to the rift valley. Now I know where Igara tea comes from and I also want to own a plot on the edge of the escarpment. Sadly, tourism is down since there are few foreigners trickling into the country [locals are not known much for travelling in-country]. However, it meant that the lodges we stumbled in to were so excited at the promise of guests that they gave us the grandest of tours.

Tea Country

If you’re ever in the area [or even if you aren’t] look out for the Observatory and Katara Lodge on the highway to Fort Portal. They are luxury and beauty with the added gift of gazing at the plains of the Queen Elizabeth national park with Lakes George and Edward, as well as the Rwenzori ranges in the distance. If you are lucky, you might catch a lion in action as you sip your mojito.

View from the Observatory

View from Katara Lodge

We’re definitely going back to Bushenyi.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Jinja

Image
We had been driving through the narrow marram road in the Madvhani sugar plantation for more than 20 minutes. The only people we saw were workers clad in gumboots and coveralls, some of them carrying machetes. The cane was tall enough to create a canopy above the car and dense enough to prevent us from seeing beyond a half a meter. I was convinced that every person who appeared and disappeared into the plantation was quietly plotting our demise. I half expected to find an ambush around each corner. You see, I had been told stories of how the plantation owners valued their cane almost as much as human life. I did not expect it to be so easy to drive around their estates – uninvited. But there we were – wandering around like we were the owner’s children. Tutu [the munaSummer from my previous note] was ever hopeful, as usual, that we were not going to succumb to some serial killer-ish end. Yiyi was, as usual, asleep from the moment we hit Jinja road 2 hours earlier. Jess [NOT Jesca!],...
Read more

Ibanda

Image
  Perspective. That is why I initiated this process. I hoped that seeing something new might rearrange the boxes in my head in a more meaningful way. Perspective is what this particular trip was all about. So, full disclosure – there are three of us on the road now. Yiyi is now a veteran traveller and is introducing his sister Aleru [a. k. a. Leritu] to the wandering ways of his mother. Ibanda is my mother’s birth place. Given that we made the trip with my mother and two of her sisters, we, of course, did the rounds with the usual relatives; my eldest uncle - the clan leader, my various cousins and their children. This particular trip, however, was about my grandmother. the Aunts and the Children You see, my mother is writing a book about my grandfather, who was a great preacher, priest and reverend of the Anglican Church. He was particularly active during the great revival of the 1930s. Stories are told of him on his bicycle weaving his way through the hills of Ankole, Toro, B...
Read more

Nwoya - PaKwach

Image
When you stop to picnic in a national forest reserve on the side of the road, is that encroachment? Nevermind that there was a herd of goats grazing right next to us! The forest got me thinking that this could be a natural alternative to the oily fast food restaurants for long distance travelers. To the calm and shade of the trees, add benches, tables, rest rooms and decent, affordable eateries – and we might just have stumbled onto the idea of the year! Or not. Who will maintain the spaces? The National Forestry Authority? Uganda Wildlife Authority? Ministry of Tourism? Local Council? Just thinking about the bureaucracy is already too much drama. Anywho, it was a nice stop over – courtesy of grandpa Nyeko. Yiyi and I were headed to Purongo, Nwoya district, along with his Papi and Grandpa [we do not have a pet name for the Acholi Jajjas yet – working on it!]. We’d picked up a pineapple in Luweero and the entire drive the car smelt like it had been sprayed with pineapple air freshener...
Read more