Thoughts of a Nomadic One

There are many tmies during my trip when I've thought, "What have I gotten myself into?" Other times, I've thought, "What am I gonna do next?" or, "I hope I come out of this alive."
Sitting in the backseat with my left hand firmly clenching the handlebar, bare white knuckles showing, I was definitely dealing with the latter question.

Speeding down the highway(if you call the only 2 lanes of road with bicycles, motorcycles, matatus, buses and cattle) at speeds of 120 km/hr, one felt as safe as being in a tin can traveling at Warp 6. To make matters worse, the driver was honking at any living thing close to the road the whole time to let others know of our (speeding) approach. Instead of taking evasive actions when head-on collisions seems certain, this maniac of a driver simply flashes the headlights and both speeding cars subtly avoid each other. This was the pattern of my 7 hr ride to Kibale/Lake Bunyoni and back to Kampala.

The voyage to the lake was a beautiful one with incredible sceneries ranging from savannas, plantations, rural life and lushous mountains with side cultivations. The area is described as the Switzerland/New Zealand of Africa, the Mother of Pearl. I can understand why.
We took a boat ride to the Bushuro island and around the 900m deep Lake Bunyoni. There was even an island, pointed out by our guide, where pregnant women were left on if they weren't married.

After getting some hassles at the Ugandan/Rwanda border, I reconsidered the benefits of going to Kigali for 2 days rather than going to Tanzania early. While I really wanted to see for myself how much it has recovered from the genocide, I believed it was more important to make my time in Tanzania as valuable as possible rather than splitting it with Rwanda.

I'm sorry it took so long to write a post. There are no excuses and a lot to cover. After arriving in Entebbe and transferring to Kampala, Thomas and I spent the first full day walking about the city. We went to the market with Grace and each bought a khacki cargo shirt for $5 USD. The place was amazingly cramped with extremely narrow paths(sometimes leading to deadends). Salespeople were also always calling you or taking your harm and hand. It felt a lot like navigating a dungeon. In terms of my impression of an African city; populous, somewhat dirty and organized chaos, thrifty. The hundreds of white matatus(minibuses crammed to the full) at the taxi park was a sign to behold and the bodas-bodas make walking dangerous.

Day 2: Visited the Bahai temple in Kampala (only one in Africa and each continent!) with 9 doors and a great choral ensemble. After the service, I decided to stay and attend the discussion on Bahai marriages (also because my ride were) and it was real interesting to see their views and process. Had a great lunch at Thomas' Jaja's place and loved Ugandan coffee (like Ugandan tea, made with half hot water, half milk, boiled, then tea/coffee added with optional spices/cinnamon). The typical Ugandan meal is composed of generous portions of matoke (plantains like mashed potatoes), beans, meat (chicken, goat, pork), passionfruit juice, chapoti (naan-like bread). Thomas and I also visited the decrepit Ugandan Museum. We had roasted meats with Grace in the evening (yum, roasted pork and goat!) as well as some Ugandan sodas called Stoney (ginger pop) and Marinda (cough-syrup taste).

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Day 3: Went to Jinja to see the Bajagali falls and the source of the Nile river with Grace and Thomas and our crazy driver. I considered paying someone to perform a Bujagali swim (go over the rapids/falls with nothing but a Jerry can) but decided I didn't like paying someone to risk their life.

Finally, today started with a 6am departure to Kibale passing the equator. Thomas commented that since the car we were in had government plates and since I was sitting in the back while he and the driver were in front, I looked like a Chinese diplomat. I'm sure my dour and humourless expression (due to the maniac driving) contributed to looking like a mainlander.

Other humourous instances include all the slogans on the matatus (minibus) such as:

"In Shaalah" - By God's Will
"Jesus is Lord"
"I (heart) Samona" (Samona is a skin care product)
"Jesus Saves" - (Hope he doesn't need to in order to ride the matatu)
"Never Give Up" - (Until there's a crash of course)
"Bulletproof" - (More metaphorical I believe)
"Essy" - (Hahaha)
"Timekeeper" - (haha prob not very safe then)

Other things I found hilarious:
- Whenever we approach an unofficial rest stop/drive thru, 10-15 people will shove produce or other snacks in your face ranging from roasted plantains, cauliflower, nuts to grilled meats, live chickens/fishes.
-The Ugandan saying, "Only the drunks drive straight" due to the ridiculous amount of potholes on every street
-"Kamwocha", a district of Kampala, literally translated as "It Burns"
-A Kampala school motto is: "Strive Regardless". When there was a newspaper article about a man stalking a woman as his love interest, she was quoted as saying, "He must've been from that school since he kept trying and I kept saying 'No'"

That's all for now.
Until next time!

Okay.

So it wasn't quite first class. However, the glasses of (free and good) red wine and (real, not Bambino or El Presidente) champagne, the brunch (consisting of fresh fruits, fillet of beef, rhubarb tarts and Godiva chocolates) and the fully reclinable seats with so-much-legroom-I-can't-touch-the-seat-before-me all contributed to a pretty good flight. Of course, this was the reward for a day of delay in Dubai.

After spending half a day with Catherine and her family in London, I had been really worried about whether I would reach Gatwick airport on time. The tube traffic at Knightsbridge had been held up due to high traffic and the roads weren't great either. However, luck was on my side as I somehow caught a bus straight to Victoria Train Station and took the Gatwick Express arriving 1 hour before takeoff (or so I thought). Check-in was somewhat problematic since I didn't have an onward ticket out of Uganda as required. I intended to overland from Uganda to Tanzania through Kenya, flying out from Dar es Salaam. The manager at Emirates was nice enough to "reserve" a "ticket" from Entebbe to Dar es Salaam to show Ugandan passport control.

There was some minor delay at the gate and then we got on to the plane. Take-off was scheduled for 9:08 p.m. but that didn't happen until 2 hours later. While everyone was on board, a passenger developed a medical emergency and she and her family had to get off. All the baggages of the plane had to be taken out in order to find the luggages of that family. A carry-on security check then had to be performed in order to make sure nothing was left behind. The delay pushed our landing time 2 hours later, preventing myself and other passengers from making their connection flights.

While the delay wasn't the worst thing to happen to me, I felt horrible since I only had 4 hours to warn my friend Thomas not to pick me up in Entebbe. As soon as I got to the complementary hotel provided by Emirates, I tried to dial the cell phone number provided to no avail. I then proceeded to walk around in the 44C heat with my black long sleeve shirt (London was 18C) searching for internet that didn't cost $1/minute. In the end, I found a place that charged $5 for 15 minutes and proceeded to fire off an email to Thomas as fast as possible, hoping he would check before he left.

While the delay did set me back I think, in the end, it was exactly what I needed. I took a long afternoon nap, took a bath, watched a decent movie for a change (Remember the Titans) and got a pint of Guinness. Of course, like the other delayed passengers, my backpack wasn't sent to the hotel as I made them promise me 3 times. This caused some confusion and required a personal trip to the airport baggage services. (*One positive note: While searching for baggage services, I found free internet in the Emirates First/Business Class section. A saving of $5 per 15 minutes!)

During my wait in Baggage Services, I also attempted to talk to the attractive Emirates service woman and it went something like this:

Her: Have a seat sir, it could take a while.
Me: So, what did you do to get stuck in this position down here?

<If she laughs, proceed to Page 4>
<If she ignores you, proceed to Page 9 - The End>

Inevitably my lack of time and money contributed to a short story.

While I showed unwanted interest in the hot Emirates lady, I would be on the receiving end later at the pub. Satisfied that I hadn't spent much money at all in Dubai for 1 day, I decided I needed a Guinness. The pub a few steps away from my room would provided just that as well as an assortment of older couples, bored businessmen and young Asian girls. As I walked into the pub, I felt the attention of the latter group; 5-6 girls of SE Asia origins hanging around in the corner. I ordered my Guinness and leaned back on the bar to watch Wimbledon highlights. I noticed in the corner of my eye that they were still eying me (understandably, I am a rare specimen in this part of the world, nonetheless an Asian Canadian!) One of them approached me, young, about my age, nothing extraordinary.

She asked, "By yourself? Want some company?"
Not sure where the conversation was going, I decided going with a questionable response, "Is it going to cost me anything?"
"Just a little", she replied.
I replied, "Sorry, just a poor student stuck in this city, I don't have any money to buy you drinks." I'll never be a sucker for that I thought as she walked back to her friends.

Moments later, I heard the bartender telling a waitress to shoo the group of non-drinking girls away and tell them to come back later. as the waitress told the girls, one of them left and the old guy next to me quickly rushed out. A minute later, the two of them came back to the bar together and that's when it slammed into me.

The girls were escorts!!!

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I am writing this now in Nairobi, Kenya, transiting to Entebbe, Uganda. I'm not sure if I'll be visiting Nairobi or Kenya anymore since even locals say it is dangerous. I'll look more into it and make a decision in Uganda.

Salam Maleku!

Jerusalem Syndrome can be defined as the process of fanatical attachment to the city due to it's religious sacredness. Many faithfuls fall under the syndrome and spend all of their money remaining in the Holy City. This is also the disease Steve (Aussie from Sydney) and I made fun of Chris (American from Chicago) for. However, by my 2nd day in Jerusalem, I was starting to develop anti-Jerusalem syndrome. I found the city too radically religious and cramped, causing minor claustrophobia.

The journey between Jerusalem and my flight required 8 major security checkpoints varying from metal detectors and X-ray, 2 minutes of questions regarding where and what was I doing in Israel to the full search and swabbing of everything in my backpack and daypack. After all that was completed, I got on my flight for London!

This is where things start turning for the worst.
London Heathrow Airport Terminal 4 had been evacuated on that due to a suspicious package and all flights had been canceled. Passengers on planes at the terminal were not allowed to get off. By the time we got in line for the passport control (8 pm), some had been waiting since 1 pm. It took me 3 hours to actually get to passport control by which point I had witnessed 2 fights, seen a woman pass out and attempted to hit on a Vancouver girl going to Ghana.

Once out of the arrival area, I found myself in a place similar to an international refugee camp. There were no buses, shuttles or underground trains running and there were no rooms left. Airport staff were handing out mats, blankets, juices and sandwiches to the stranded passengers. (The funny thing is, I intended to sleep in Terminal 4 that night, just didn't expect the other 5000 people!)

Since I was meeting Catherine and her family at 11 am in Terminal 3, I decided to walk over from Terminal 4 instead of waiting for the shuttled at 6 am. I mean, "How far could it be?"
This is where things get much worse for me.

1:30 AM - Leave Terminal 4, follow the signs towards Terminal 3
1:50 AM - This is great! Making good pace, nice view, fresh air.
2:10 AM - Should be just around the corner, shouldn't take much longer.
2:40 AM - Where am I?
3:00 AM - Where the FUCK am I?
3:20 AM - (Police pulls up to me, "You can't walk to T3, there's a tunnel, you should take a taxi.")
3:40 AM - (Get to a checkpoint with 3 police officers, one of them stops a bus and puts me on it for free)
4:00 AM - Arrive at Terminal 3, puts mat down in arrival area, pass out.

Back in London again.

As the minibus pulled into the town centre opf Ramallah, a large group of men with green cloths used as masks walked down the main street with AK-47s pointed at the sky. They were chanting various slogans. Fully covered women were crying and there were bullet holes and bombed out houses everywhere.

If that is what you immediately thought when you heard "Palestine", then you are wrong. While images from the media may show you a lawless territory festered with terrorists and suicide bombers, the truth is quite different.

In my time in the West Bank, I've met people with diverse opinions and backgrounds as well as a society with a wide specturm of class and stability. Throughout my time there, I've found a people that is proud and will not surrender when they've been kept down so many times. The situation between Israel and Palestine is extremely personal and too complex for me to discuss here. However, I can only hope that there can be peace, prosperity and freedom for all people in this region someday soon.

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I arrived in the Tel Aviv airport early and took the bus to Jerusalem. There, I realized there was something very different: when I looked at an available seat on the bus, it was taken by the M16 of an Israeli soldier. Instead, I sat down beside a young officer reading "The Fountainhead" by Ayn Rand. We struck up a conversation and he talked about his desire to study grad school in Canada and army duties. He also asked me why I chose to travel to Israel since it's not a typical tourist destination for a non-pilgrim.

Once at the bus station, it took me awhile more to get used to being searched and having bags x-rayed at the bus station and mall entrance. The numerous soldiers aged 18-20 with M16s, grenade launchers hanging around the station also threw me off since they look just like highschool kids with army uniforms and guns.

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I took the bus to Ramllah that afternoon and the difference was astounding. I arrived on a deserted Friday (since it's their holy day) and made my way to the center to meet Zab. Ramalla h was a lot more run down than Israel of course and more so than Egypt and place s in Turkey as well (as a result of corruption and Israel's economic strangulation).

Locals were extremely surprised to see a tourist, nonetheless an asian looking one! I spent the rest of the first day hanging out with Zab's family, walking about town with him and his cousin Dina, getting a coffee ground psychic reading by Zab's great-aunt anbd meeting some of his friends at Birzeit University for drins and sheesha.

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Day 2: The day started early with a visit to Jalezone refuge camp to see the kids there. The group of people I was with were international students studying at Birzeit who were to volunteer to teach kids English, French, dance, etc. For lunch, we had a great fallafel sandwhich for 1 NIS ($0.25). I then attended a lecture on the partition wall at the University. In the evening, I attended two art exhibit opening with the Zabaneh family and a party with Zab and Yasmine.

I really wish I had more time and resources. I would have loved to volunteer teaching music or computer science to the kids at the camp. Perhaps that is where I can do volunteer work through an NGO sponsored by Accenture in the future.

• **

As my minimus pulls away from Ramallah towards Jerusalem, I think about the desperation and hope of the Palestinian people, the cool people I've met, the pink and purple sun sets over the hills and houses of Ramallah. When people ask me whether I thought there was a solution to the conflict, I always say this the same thing. Of all the places I've seen, people I've talked to, they all want the same things. Freedom, Peace and Prosperity. I'm a realist (combination of optimist and pessimist) and though it may take a long time, I do believe that there can be a solution that ensures everlasting peace and harmony between Israel and Palestine.

Salam Maleku

Acknowledgements: I want to thank Chris Zabaneh and his family for their hospitality and generosity! Chris provided so much opportunity and diverse experience in my time in West Bank, it was truly enlightening.
I am looking forward to seeing his work (images and documentary)!

As the plane climbs steeply after take off, I look out my window at the giant metropolis that is Istanbul. I reflect upon my last 2.5 days in this amzing city and my time in Turkey.

I arrived in Istanbul's asian bus stop (Dudullu) early in the morning after spending a day in Cappadocia. I had paid 50 YTL for the day tour of Cappadocia and the area was mesmerizing. The fairy chimneys and beautiful landscape looks to be the inspiration of Gaudi's work! We visited an underground city, Christian frescoes in cave churches, cave dwellings. We were then forced to see a demonstration and shop selling Onyx. There was even a stop called "Star Wars Set" due to the landscape's similarity to Episode IV's sandman scenes. Another overnight bus and I was in Istanbul. It had been a gruelling 3 days since I hadn't had a shower or slept in bed for 3 full days.

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My stay in Isanbul was like living in a palace. I had amazing home cooked meals from Baris' mother, laundry done, private shower, my own room with a double bed with internet. I was personally shown around the major destinations of the city by Baris as well as famous popular local hangouts and eateries! But much more valuable to me, was getting insight and perspectives of someone who had lived and grown up there. Getting a discounted haircut from his friend, having a beer like the locals, having famous kofte at Sultanhamet kofte. These are priceless experiences that are hard to get as a tourist.

It was also extremely good to catch up with people and getting messages from friends and damily. I've now been gone for a full month and though I've seen amazing sights, met amazing people on the road, it makes me miss Canada ever more. So, I encourage you all to send me messages, emails, Facebook posts. It helps a lot on the road, when I'm stuck in a bus station for 3 hrs, when I'm lost in a new city, when I see others with their best mates.

Finally, I want to thank Baris and his mom again for the wonderful hospitality. I don't know if I'll live that well again until I get home and the food was amazing! (Baris, I need the recipe to that desert!)

Teshekur Edirim!