I'm a little behind as I haven't had a lot of access to the Internet lately. The weekend before last we went to Jinja in Uganda to do some river rafting. It was expensive and painful but very worth it.
We left at a reasonable hour and took a very comfortable matatu to Malaba, on the border of Kenya and Uganda. We crossed the border on foot and I found it to be everything that Hollywood might make out a border crossing in the third world to be. We crossed a bridge and although there wasn't much security you got the feeling that there was much more that you couldn't see, and it was in a depression that seemed to magnify the heat of the day.
Uganda was immediately different; the people looked different; we couldn't tell if they spoke the same language (which they do and they don't); and the currency was worth way less but the prices were much higher. The matatus were the same but somehow different. We all agreed that they were much less pleasant but we couldn't say why because they were just as full, dirty, hot, sweaty, stinky, and uncomfortable. I guess it came down to driving. The roads were in better condition but the drivers were not. We passed a couple of bodies that had been knocked from Piki-Pikis and we even got hit (very lightly). We were all stopped for road works and our driver tried to budge ahead and then merge. Apparently the guy behind wasn't happy and decided not to stop (or was too busy blocking everyone else). The weirdest thing was our driver ended up having to pay the other guy, even though he was in front and he had the damage to his car (just a crumpled tail-light).
Anyway, we did arrive safely though the Piki-Piki ride to the hostel was pretty scary (and fun) too. They had a bar that had about the best view possible, right up on the banks of the Nile.
The rafting itself was fun and only once was it scary for me (on the first time we flipped when I couldn't get enough breath between rapids). Although one of the others in particular was a little more scared, we all had a blast. They flipped us a lot but we wanted that - the water was beautiful and that was half the fun.
The other raft that went out that day was full of American army guys who got flipped at the worst part early on and didn't end up enjoying it much at all. A couple of them were scared to death and even claimed they'd rather be back in Afghanistan or Iraq than out there again.
The worst part about it was that although I slathered on the sun cream, I got very burned, at least on my legs where I hadn't already built up a tan. The cream washed off and after 6 hours in the sun (it rained lightly briefly but was mostly clear) I couldn't stand without pain. It went away in a day or two thankfully.
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