All by myself...

Back from Burundi like a boomerang, it's time for Kigali round 3. Bryan Adams is blasting from the stereo of the nearby bus station, the caffine from my 8th cup of coffee (it's so cheap!) is keeping me wired and the countdown to Israel is on.

Burundi ended well. Ashley and I gourmeted it for the last few days, enjoying amazing grilled fish, wood oven pizza, chocolate mousse and (of course) the magestic grand Primus. Alas, as our Franc stash ran low we jaunted for the border on an air conditioned (glorious) bus that played movies for our enjoyment. This somehow cost the same as a regular minibus ride. I heart Africa.

Football/soccer with the president never worked out. We got close on our last day and caught a sneak peak of him between some bushes, but unfortunately the army saw us and chased us away. As it turns out, there is a special "protocol" that we neglected to follow that allows you (meaning any foreigner) audience with the head of state. Ah well, we got close. Next time I'll get a picture with the dude, haha.

Anyhow, I've got a few days to relax in Kigali, then a few more to relax in Kampala, then a few more in Nairobi. You get the idea. Life is good.

Cheers,

-Dave

P.S. My application to graduate was finally approved. I graduated with "distinction" (what that distinction is is unclear at the moment) and my diploma will arrive in Florida in the next 3 weeks. Groovy.

I'm not an idiot (really!)

Just so you know, all mispelled words in this journal are being credited to the forced use of French keyboards, poor African spell checking devices and my own quirky sense of humor.

Really, I know what I'm doing.

Ceers,

Dqve

Failure!!!!

Soccer with President Nkurunziza didn't work out, he had a meeting. However, we may get a shot on Wednesday. He's said to never have missed a mid-week match! Burundi still has yet to disappoint on a large scale though. Our friend Dominique has left for a week trip to Georgia/Armenia before his new job starts, but we've met a Quebecois named Sylvain who should fill the drinking buddy void. Our other (as of yet unmentioned) friend, Patrice Faye, has proved hard to find, but great to talk to. He's the only non-clergy foreigner to ever have been awarded Burundian citizenship and is somewhat of a national celebrity for being the Burundian Croc Hunter (in fact he was supposed to work with the pre-dead Steve Irwin to track "Gustave", a 7 meter croc living in the nearby lake). His house is hilarious, filled with souvenirs from all over the continent from hios 20+ years stay in Burundi, captured snakes (endless vipers, pythons, cobras, mambas and an anaconda), crocodiles and rodents who serve as dinner for these creatures. He's been in two international films (Search for the Killer Croc and a Japanese movie that apparently was viewed by 15,000,000 Japanese this past March) and is set to work with National Geographic this year, so it's fair to say this dude has his share of stories to tell.

In other news we were thrown out of yet another over-booked hotel, and have since moved on to bigger and better things. Our new lodgings, costing 50 cents more per nite offers a king siwed bed, clean showers and friendly staff. For those thinking of coming to Bujumbura (and you really should, it's fantastic), Saga Residence dowtown is the place to be. Rooms are supposedly $20 per nite, but we paid $10 after a day's worth of haggling by Ashley.

The only bad news to tell is sort of funny in it's own right. There was a mid-day dowtown pick pocketing attempt made yesterday by two guys who will henceforth be titled the Worst Pick Pockets on the Face of the Earth (WWPPFE for short). These WWPPFE tried to distract me and reach in my pocket (which had my camera), but were horribly unsubtle about it. One looked too drunk to do much distracting (which comprised of poking at my plastic trash bag containing the remnants of lunch) and the other put TWO hands (unheard of among respectable pick pockets) in my left pocket. One WWPPFE was set asunder by a thorough slap from Ashley, while the other got an albow to the shoulder and a severe cursing by myself (in French AND English!). Looking dismayed, one WWPPFE ran and the other pretended he was a beggar who got mixed up in the whole process. In return for their carefully planned assault they managed to get...well, nothing really. Maybe some lint...maybe. I know it's probably foolish to joke about attempted robbery, but when the attempted robbery is in itself a total joke I can't resist the urge.

Learning from yesterday's experience I am today much less conspicuous, sans day-pack. I remain confident that with this subtle difference I should be able to completely blend in with the locals. Really, it's pretty easy for a caucasian Canadian-American to blend in in urban Burundi, seriously. No, seriously! Honestly! They can't tell the difference!

Sigh.

Cheers,

Dave

Burundinsanity

After three fairly tame days in Butare (we hiked Parc Nyungwe to see monkeys and waterfalls, saw the Rwandan national museum and drank on the porch of Hotel Ibis) we took a weird matatu ride from Butare to Bujumbura. The driver would taken hairpin turns at _à Km/h (really fast on African mountain roads), clap along to songs on straightaways and play nothing but solid tunes all ride long (Boyz-II-Men, Justin Timberlake, Toni Braxton, etc). The only downside was the cramped seating situation (14 people in a van) and the one carsick dude who threw up out the window the entire ride post-border crossing.

So here we are, the captial of Burundi! Our first day was spent just getting used to the city, which is far different from anything else I've ever seen in my life. Sprawling urban areas on a plain before the lake, stretching east to the mountains leading back to the main road. No tall buildings, reasonably constructed roads, nice people and more French language practice than I've had in a while (no rebels either!). Despite the ominous travel warnings Burundi is almost absurdly safe (mening of course that it is no more dangerous in my mind than Kampala or Mombasa), although taxis are useful in the evening. No hassles, no police wanting bribes (in fact they're among the friendliest roadblock guards I've ever seen!) and certainly nothing to be overly concerned with safety wise.

We had our first dinner at Dong Fang, a local Chinese place. After that delicious meal it occured to me that I need only dine Chinese in Kigali and Dar es Salaam (or Dodoma, depending on who you ask) to have had spring rolls in the capital cities of all of East Africa, sans-Somalia. Friday involved a quick swim in Lake Tanganyika (one of the few lakes in East Africa with enough currents to kill the vectors of bilharzia), a small meal at the Saga Plage and dinner at a happening resto-bar. Drinking was likely to have followed, but health would not permit it so it was off to bed at around 7 pm. Our French ex-pat friend, Dominique, showed up at our room with his girlfriend around 9 surprised to find us in bed (and even more surprised to see me sleeping in a tent indoors to save money), but promising to take us out the next day.

The next day we took off in his car to an unknown place, stopping on the way to see the place where Livingstone apparently met Stanley (very bizarre), buy some oranges at a local market, check in on some post car-accident aid workers (Aid workers, for those who don't know, drive like idiots. Worse still are UN drivers!) and spend the rest of the day chilling at a beach that had more of a Carribean feel than an African lake feel. Amazing swimming, good food, good company, good times. Our dinner took us back to the Saga Plage, where we camped for the evening. In hindsight, camping in a nightclub was really stupid, sleep was minimal and the DJ seemed to love MC Hammer.

Today we awoke to people shouting at us (mzungu, why are you in a tent?) and telling us to co;e chill with them. Mind you, they're drunk and it's 6 am. We eventually join this small group of young ladies and one gentleman, later on realizing that they zere all prostitutes servicing the US armed servicemen. Gorgeous people (well, all but one of them), but quite drunk and quite aggressive to the other locals so we didn't spend too much time with them Oh, did I mention that 3,000 Burundian male youths were on the beach doing military excercises (no they weren't rebels), trying to swim to Congo (seriously) and watching us take our tent down. The prostitutes may be trying to follow us around town so they can offer us "services" but Dro and I aren't very interested.

From there the day got weirder. We left the plage around 8 (I'll be honest, we had found some leafy things and were really, really hungry as a result) and headed to Kapa Bakery. Kapa is owned by a series of Cypriot-Sudanese brothers who arrived via Congo (loooooong story) who absolutely love our company and make the best pasteries in town. Apparently today breakfast was on the house (Merci Gabriel!) so we ate well. On our way back to find a hotel, we ran into Dominique randomly, went back to Kapa for coffee, found a random Greek Orthodox church to gawk at and headed to our new guesthouse (named Guesthouse) which was actually the same guesthouse as before. We were even given our old room back! Our attempts at napping were thwarted by a seemingly impromptu drum rally right out side our room.

You can't make this stuff up.

So this evening the plan is (seriously) to see if we can play soccer with the President of Burundi, have a nice dinner with Dominique and get our party on away from any potential hookers.

Dro and Ashley leave tomorrow for Rwandam but I may stay a few more days here. Bujumbura is absurd in the best way possible.

Cheers,

-Dave

I'm an idiot

Mother's day is next week. I suck, although I still love my mom nonetheless.

Cheers,

-Dave

Things never seem to go according to plan...

Our vacation to Lake Kivu was interrupted by some conference that stole our hotel room from us. It was relaxing while it lasted, gorgeous views, good food, new friends and cheap beer. We saw the clouds turn red with the glow of Congolese volcanoes, Dro and Ashley canoed to an island restaurant and ate goat (I was sick with a headcold) and we made friends with a nice group of American post-grads. So, with no home in Kibuye we returned to Kigali (we're staying with our new American friends who have a house outside downtown). Tomorrow it's off to Butare, followed by either Parc Nationale Nyungwe or Bujumbura. Burundi is a must visit since we already bought our visas, but when we make it there is starting to get confusing. Stupid overland transport systems. Anyhow, happy mother's day to Mom and pleasant greetings to all non-motherly readers. Tonight we're celebrating at the only Mexican resto in Rwanda. This could get interesting.

Cheers,

-Dave

Has it really been a month?

Considering how often I update this, I'd be curious as to who still reads it. Haha, anyhow I'm writing from Kigali, Rwanda and having a great time. Before I get to current events I feel like y'all need a bit of a recap.

So yeah, things finished up in Mikinduri on April 24. Pete and I wrote a 35 page joint audit of the entire organization which is apparently currently being used at a large meeting in Nairobi as we speak to determine the future of the organization. Whoa. The month ended fairly well, we were given a live chicken as a reward for our hard work (his name was Tasty and he was lightly battered and deep fried) and seemed to have deserved it. By the time we left meetings had be regularized (as opposed to "whenever") and projects were to be consistently monitored and audited per our suggestions. There were some hard times though. Kids (who weren't being given the money they were asking of us) began throwing rocks at us, someone turned off our water (we fixed it ourselves) and I got some nasty skin infection from an allergic reaction. Such are the trials of a foreigner in rural Kenya. All in all though, while I don't know if I'll ever spend another full month in Mikinduri (there is nothing to do), but I know I'll keep in touch to make sure all is well.

From Mikinduri it was back to Nairobi with Pete. We saw a movie (300, it was sweet!), hit up the bar scene, had buisness meals with Silvanos (our chief advisor), enjoyed sushi and generally revelled in the joys of urban life (did I mention there was drinking?). Pete Dumoulin is by far one of the best travel companions I have had the pleasure of chilling with. His presence is sorely missed and our time spent in Nairobi was the culmination of an epic one month experience.

From Nairobi I travelled to Lake Nakuru to meet up with Alejandro (another friend from the McGill trip) and off we went to Kisumu to spend the night. Kisumu is supposedly the 3rd largest city in Kenya, but you wouldn't know that from its relaxed atmosphere. We were able to walk around at nights with no hassle (impossible in Nairobi), and eat spring rolls and pizza. From Kisumu it was off to Kampala where we spent two nights camping at a backpacker's hostel. Our fellow backpackers proved extremely entertaining as one of my nights was spent out at an outdoor concert until 6 AM (some of the most popular artists in Kenya and Uganda were on hand), and the second spent at a houseparty hosted by a British guy who has been living in Kampala for over a year now. Very, very, very good times in Kampala.

From Kampala was the 9 hour bus ride to Kigali. We arrived in the late afternoon at the One Love Club hoping to set up our tents, but their "campgrounds" was actually a cement parking lot. We booked a room instead. Our first day in Kigali has been plagued by rain (although it's quite sunny now), the fact that it's Labour Day (changing money is pretty much a no-go) and the absence of a working ATM in the city. Aside from that the city is gorgeous, the people are very friendly and I've been getting to use my (extremely rusty) français. Plus there's passionfruit flavored Fanta!

From here we spend another two nights in Kigali, then move to Gisenye or Kibuye (we thought about trekking to the Congo, but upon research found that "active militia and Interahamwe rebels in the Eastern Provinces" was a fairly strong disincentive to making the trip. Oh well, haha. Instead of Congo, we'll head to Butare (still in Rwanda) and use that as a base to make our way to Bujambura, Burundi. Bujambura (although a travel warning exists) is probably safer at nights than Nairobi, so there's no need to worry about us. There we'll do some day trips to other parts of Burundi, return to Rwanda and from there I'll head to Jinja, Uganda for whitewater rafting and back to Kampala for another round of bar attending. All this is up in the air though, so if the next entry says something totally different, don't get all mad at me.

The bottom line? Life is grand.

Cheers,

-Dave