But teach-ah, do you have culture in U.S.?

I had to laugh at this question because it was adorable, in a certain way. But the more I thought about it, the question revealed that the student who asked it– Kule Christopher– did not understand that “culture” was something everyone had. To him, “culture” was something that he was told his people had. Outsiders came to his village and marked their songs, religion, dances, and food as “culture” because it was different from what they had experienced. So really, he was asking if we had songs, dances, and particular foods. But he did not understand that a person cannot exist without culture; the two are inextricably linked and the latter is made visible by a person’s habits, attitudes, and values, not just by their songs and dances.

We were sitting in the library during lunch: Cassie, Matt and I, and three of my students, Christopher, Kato, and Deborah. Christopher’s question prompted an explanation of the cultural diversity in the United States, which led to a dive into our nation’s history with immigration, slavery, race relations, and inequity in school funding. Then, we returned to looking at a children’s encyclopedia. In a half hour, the students’ brains must have stretched out by the inch; we discussed medieval castles, musical instruments,  parachutes and gravity… there was so much they didn’t know! One of my favorite conversations went like this:

Christopher: “But teach-ah, what is this one?”

Me: “It’s a dragon. It’s not real. It’s fiction, which means pretend, remember?”

Kato: “But teach-ah, is it a reptile?”

Me: “It’s not anything. It’s in a story.”

Christopher: “But it has scales, and 4 limbs…” (We’d just learned about about reptiles in science.)

Me: “Yes, you’re right. If it were real, it would probably be a reptile. But it’s not real.”

Kato: “So they’re liars.”

Me: “Ha, well no, they’re just telling a story. Sometimes a story can help you learn a lot, even if it didn’t really happen. Like the story about the girls fighting; it didn’t really happen, but now you know not to fight, because it hurts people.”

Kato, second from right, is a serious thinker.

At one point, we came across a picture of an astronaut. “But teach-ah, why is he wearing this?” “He’s in outer space. Do you know what outer space is?” We looked for some books on outer space to help explain (good thing we had just organized the library and knew where those books were!). The rain softly pattered on the insulated library roof– while it pounded the tin classroom roofs– as we casually flipped through books on outer space for hours. The rest of the staff were in meetings, and children had abandoned their assignment to debate, because the rain was too loud. More and more children kept gathering around to gape at the pictures, ask questions, and listen to my explanations. I loved the questions– “But teach-ah, what is this one?”

I realized that this was the kind of learning I loved, and it was missing from my classroom. Students’ minds were being blown, they were fully engaged, and they were directing the learning. I was sitting next to them, not standing in front of them. I was connecting with them one-on-one, feeling free to explain slowly, not rushed by the threat of a 60-minute limit. We stumbled across questions to which even I did not know the answer. I made promises to bring in videos of things like zero gravity, of which students wanted proof that it actually existed.

Granted, there were maybe 20 students in the library, whereas I have 34 students. And we were talking about multiple topics at once, whereas I am forced to cover one topic in Science, which has a limited number of books. But I have hope that I can somehow capture the feeling of passionate discovery that reigned over the library that afternoon and work it in to the classroom. Because, as Enoch reminded me during his latest observation, I’ve been too caught up in getting the information to them rather than letting them discover. I guess I just felt guilty that I was so far behind; I’m supposed to have started talking about sound energy, but I haven’t gotten through animals yet. I’ve only covered vertebrates and still have invertebrates left. It was really hard to get students to notice things for themselves, so I think I subconsciously decreased their opportunities to do so, in order to make things move along.

But ultimately, I would like my legacy at this school to be changing their way of thinking, and helping them to understand one topic really well rather than cover all of the information. I want to get through sound energy because I think I can make that topic engaging for them. But if I don’t get there, they can look up the answers for their tests in the textbooks and hopefully now they would be passionate enough about learning to find more out for themselves.

I’m also very hopeful that my upcoming field trip will help accomplish this goal. In case you haven’t heard, I organized a fund for family & friends across the world to donate money towards a field trip for my students. We raised so much money that we are able to take two more classes along! We will be going on a boat ride on the Kazinga Channel, to a zoo, weather station, and museum in Mweya, a salt lake mine,  and to visit the Equator. All the animals we’ve been discussing will be there! Plus, this is literally a once in a lifetime chance for many students. They’ve never been on a field trip before! When I announced the news, they were SO excited. It’s wonderful to see kids so excited about discovering new places. I think I can help channel this excitement into a realization that the world is a huge and wonderful place filled with so many interesting things to discover.

Hearing the news about a field trip

Look at those smiles!

The trip is next Friday, so stay tuned for photos & stories. Thank you to everyone who supported & made this happen!

Testing, Testing, 123

Mid-term examinations were initially planned for Monday and Tuesday of this past week. On Monday, we arrived a bit late, and scrambled into our classrooms amidst the pouring rain. I found my students talking in self-made groups, sprawled across the room, some intensely studying their notebooks, others simply talking. “Aren’t you supposed to be testing?” I asked Deborah. “Yes,” she replied, “they were supposed to start very early.” “So, why didn’t you?” “Because of the rain,” Benet answered for her. “So… you can’t test when it’s raining?” “No…” they all laughed, “we don’t have the tests.”

There was too much misunderstanding happening here, so I went to ask Teacher Rau. Teacher Rau is a skinny, lively young man with a few crooked teeth, but a wide, joyous grin. He always wears well-ironed khaki pants and a collared shirt, but sometimes wears a blue apron that falls past his knees to protect himself from a coating of chalk, which adds to his slightly goofy façade. He is the P6 class teacher, meaning that he minds their affairs, like attendance, and teaches them two subjects rather than one. He teaches math and social studies, but I feel closer to him than to either of my actual co-operating teachers. We often exchange glances as students giggle at his bodily-function-based jokes during his animated lectures.

So he explained to me that Headmaster King James and Deputy-to-the-Headmaster John (my CT for science), and Head of Academics Erasto (my CT for English) were all hereto forth absent. This means that the head office, where all the examinations were kept, was locked. So were the P4 classroom and the library, and the keys to both were kept, of course, in the head office. Cassie, Matt, Alex and I were all told that we wouldn’t be teaching neither Monday nor Tuesday, so we didn’t have any lessons formally prepared. Many other teachers were unsure of what to do, too, in case it was announced that testing would begin right after we began teaching.

The goofballs decided to make a fake Teacher Rau in his absence

The rain eventually let up and I found Erasto, John, Rau, and King James talking outside my classroom. “So are we testing?” I asked King James. He answered no, and gave a reason that sounded to me like “the students do not know enough.” So, we hadn’t taught them all the material that would be on the tests? This is exactly what I had inquired about before; I had been worried that I hadn’t taught enough and wanted to know what would be on those tests– why hadn’t they told me? Frustration boiled up inside me, and almost burst out in a really unprofessional way.

But I kept my cool, and I discovered that there had been a serious misunderstanding somewhere in the conversation. What King James had really meant to say was that there weren’t enough copies of the test for every student. Why hadn’t they been sure to order enough? Hadn’t they taken a census of the school? I kept the questions rolling. Finally, I reached the true explanation.

Schools are not required to take mid-term examinations here. Mostly private schools take them on to assess their progress. Only the end-of-term exams are administered by the government. So schools independently place orders with an examination company in Kasese. But the company in Kasese gets their stock of exams shipped from Kampala, and out of fear of ordering too many and being in financial limbo, the companies underestimate the number of exams they will need. So even though a school will place an order and have a pick-up date, they might not get all the exams they need, and they will have to wait until another shipment comes in from Kampala. The only solution I see to this problem is conducting a census of the schools in Kasese district and having them register for exams with exact numbers (or overestimates) far in advance. However, this would require manpower and expensive travel to visit schools, widespread internet access, or a speedy and effective mailing system to conduct the census. I don’t think that the district has the resources for any of these options. Plus, registering the number of students in advance would be very difficult, considering that students show up even weeks after school has started.

So this problem was much bigger than what met the eye. It was connected to the same structural problems that trickle down and affect so many Ugandans’ lives. Knowing that, I was much more capable of accepting the present conditions and seizing the opportunity to play games with my students. We had a lot of fun and I felt much more connected to them after.

Some of the class's younger boys playing volleyball

Tuesday also passed without testing, but finally Wednesday began with Math and Science exams. As they were testing, I did some much-needed planning. On Thursday, though, I stupidly asked to see the science exams, just out of curiosity. This prompted the question, “Oh, will you be marking them?” Seriously? I thought, this is how I’m presented with the fact that I’m supposed to grade them? John said that we could share the work, but I knew that this meant I’d do them all. I understood that John was busy (with planning my field trip, on everything else) so I was alright with doing the work, but it was extremely frustrating to receive this news after testing. I felt out of the loop for this whole process. I politely asked John and King James to please inform me of their expectations beforehand, because it made a big impact on how I would need to plan my time. I don’t think they fully understood my point of view, because I suspect that they have projects dumped on them all the time without warning and probably thought that I was being whiny. But I figured that it would be better to be honest and open rather than harbor negative feelings.

So I spent the entire day grading 34 100-question examinations. Most of the questions were from other grades; only 8 were from this grade. To my relief, most students answered the 4 questions I had taught correctly. The ones who struggled with them struggled with everything, so I didn’t feel like I was to blame too much. However there were 4 questions from material I hadn’t covered yet, and John wouldn’t let me “not count” those questions. So, if they had successfully understood what I taught, their scores would be 8 points higher. I felt awful, even though these tests don’t officially count for anything. Still, the exams were disastrous. The average score was a 49.3%, the highest 78%, and the lowest a sad 29%. It seemed like a memory test, to see if students could reach back to 3 years ago and recite a line regurgitated from a textbook. Most of them failed to do so. I could tell that some used context clues and analysis to make educated guesses. The rest of the class definitely needs instruction on how to do this.

These two, incapable of coordinating poses, actually rocked their exams, relatively speaking

I did the best I could to mark these questions, but many related to experiences that my students, not I, would be exposed to on a daily basis. For example, what do I know about removing worms from pigs? Or about the principles of the Primary Health Center? I hadn’t learned the material they learned in previous grades, so I didn’t know which heating process was which or which communicable diseases were considered a part of the classic 7 deadly diseases, and I didn’t have the internet to find out. I found several flaws in the answer guide, so how would I know if the answers it gave for material unknown to me would be correct? How would I know if a student gave a perfectly logical answer, but it just wasn’t listed in the answer guide? This was another reason I was frustrated. No one was there to help answer my questions and I seemed like just the wrong person to do this job.

So now I have to spend time reviewing the answers to this test, which takes away from my time to teach new content. I think that the whole process was a pretty useless exercise. But I suppose it could scare some students into studying harder for their end-of-term exams. I don’t like scare tactics, and I don’t like end-of-term exams, but they will need to pass them to move on to the next grade, which is a government-issued policy.

What a structural problem indeed.

Here's a picture to cheer you up! Mbambu Ruth is my soul mate.

Extracurricular Activities

It’s now the rainy season here. After such intense heat, the cool breezes feel amazing. One day, I was actually cold. But it’s probably been in the low/mid 70s most of the time; I’m not sure because there are no thermometers around here. But anyways, the rain has begun to limit activities at school, and I think it will start limiting our capacity for adventurous endeavours too. It’s hard to go to plan going to town, a trip to another city, or a hike with the constant possibility of sudden downpour.

Collecting rain water

However, last Saturday, we were spared a downpour until we got home in the evening. We were able to spend the morning at a talent show at a local secondary school. Our neighbor, Juliet, is a prefect at the school, and invited us to watch. In a few words, it was amusing, fascinating, confusing, frustrating, uncomfortable, and thoroughly enjoyable (simple emotions are rare for me). Upon arrival, we were ushered into the head office to shake many people’s hands, then led outside to watch some netball and volleyball games (simultaneously). At this point, the stares we received were expected. But it felt very strange to awkwardly stand on the sidelines alone (with Robert, Juliet’s brother) without talking to any of the students. We waited a long time for the actual talent show to begin, and being “out of the loop” was frustrating. But I had to remind myself that not only was it in Uganda, where time passes more slowly, but it was also entirely student-run. So naturally, once the show began, it was filled with hilarious problems, like speakers squeaking. We had to leave early, so all we saw were a few rap acts and “miming”– basically singing karaoke with the original singer still on the track. Audience members danced up to the “stage” to hand candy and money to the performers they thought were good. Many acts were entertaining and made me smile, but some made me really uncomfortable, as I watched male eyes (even those of the staff) following 16-year-olds’ bums shake. Maybe that’s just my culture talking, though. Unfortunately we left before the banana-peeling, egg-cracking, dancing, and eating contests began. Those sounded pretty interesting.

Juliet & Robert doing a duet

The crew heading back home

Later that day, we went to a lodge with an infinity pool. The view was breathtaking and it felt amazing to wade and relax in cool water. Our food took several hours for some reason, but it was delicious. I felt much more rich than I am, spending a leisurely afternoon at a ridiculously gorgeous hotel in a foreign country. It was wonderful, but it almost felt like an experience that didn’t belong to me. These sort of things are done by someone who can easily drop thousands of dollars at a resort, an isolated island of privileged people who think they leave knowing the country but never have any authentic contact with everyday life in that place. However, it was our celebration for Alex’s birthday, and I think we are at least aware enough of our privilege to not take the experience for granted.

Behold.

When we got home that night, we got some work done, but then spent some bonding time playing “Never Have I Ever.” None of the details shall ever be revealed to another soul. Anyways, we had started boiling a large pot water (for drinking) and left it in the kitchen while we played the game. When Cassie went in the kitchen for a snack, she found smoke and left immediately. Alex and I investigated and found roaring flames over the stove top! We freaked out, but fortunately our emergency reflexes kicked in and we grabbed some bottles of water to put the fire out. Luckily, I had just filled up a 2 litre bottle, out of fear that the water would go out again. So the fire was managed and the burn marks on the walls wiped off. Apparently the gas line from the tank to the stove top had come loose somehow… we’re not really sure what else happened. But we had to get a new stove.

new digs

At least you still feel loved if you burn dinner.

Another experience of note was attending a funeral (called a burial here). During classes on Wednesday, Doreen came by and collected money for a burial for a student’s uncle, saying that the burial would happen that same day. I had heard that burials were very expensive and happened very often, so I wasn’t too surprised that the collection was same-day. Later, she announced that we would be attending. I hadn’t expected that, but I’d heard of groups before us attending weddings without knowing the bride/groom all too well, so it didn’t seem like it would be too strange. We left school early and piled SIXTEEN people in the mini-van (eight adults, eight children- don’t tell the police) and drove about 15 minutes to the man’s house, where burials are typically held. It was great to see more of the surrounding area and see people’s houses up close. There were SO MANY people there– probably almost 200. The deceased was an uncle to at least 3 of the children with us, and probably somehow a relative of the rest of them. None of the students were in my class, but I knew a P3 student named Win (which I think is an adorable name) fairly well. She took my hand and led me everywhere throughout the burial. I was so glad to have her; her hand somehow signified a connection, a legitimate justification for being there, and confidence in my ability as a teacher to connect to students. Even though it was her uncle’s funeral, she didn’t seem too upset. In fact, most the people around didn’t seem very sad, and some were even making small talk as the man was lowered into the ground. However, the man’s wife and close family, who were in a procession, conveyed an intense sorrow. The wife let out heart-wrenching wails– the kinds of cries that shake your bones and leave cracks in your soul. I ached so badly to connect with her in some way, to help her, or even just understand her. I know I will never forget her face. The face of grief is universal, so that much I was able to decipher. But the rest of the ceremony eluded me. I was disappointed to not hear more of the ceremony to see how things are done here, but I wasn’t about to be pushy at a funeral for someone I didn’t know. 

Usually we spend Saturdays taking trips and Sundays getting work done. But this weekend we have nothing planned for Saturday, which I’m actually pretty relieved about. I love exploring the area and taking advantage of the fact that I’m in Uganda, but I do have a job to do, and I really need the extra time to plan lessons. There’s so much to do around the house, too! But next weekend I’m hoping to do a home visit.

I’m off to sleep but I’m writing a post about teaching tomorrow. I promise it will be interesting! Thanks for reading!

Here's a picture of a praying mantis!

The Top 5 Things I Learned About Teaching This Week

1. Learning is so much more meaningful when it is student-led.

For each unit in science– for example, birds or mammals, I go to the library and find as many books as I can about that topic. I was having trouble finding one about fish, though, so I asked a student, Masereka Benet, to help me. He tried for a few minutes before exclaiming, “But ah! It is too messy here!” Benet was recently elected the Academic Prefect, which means he’s in charge of the library, but he just then realized that the library was a disaster. He decided that we should organize it.

The last P6 teacher from UW (hey Angela!) had her class arrange the library by creating color-coded labels. They learned about literature genres and alphabetizing. They did a great job. The only problem was that the rest of the school did not follow their system. So books were haphazardly thrown everywhere. The curriculum I’m covering this term does not include these topics and I don’t have time to fit something extra in, and I literally could not fit all of my class in the library, so I didn’t want to take on the project as a class. But I was glad that Benet raised a concern and decided to do something about it, so I pledged to help him during our lunch and games time. 

Re-vamped library with the prefect's new rules

Benet & Kato chillin'

Mumbere Hanlord and Kule Christopher joined our team, and other students helped along the way. It was great to see students sweeping, organizing, and devising plans by their own initiative. We tackled several problems– younger students didn’t know how to properly put books away, new books didn’t have labels, space is limited– and each step of the way, I asked them questions instead of telling them what to do.

The results were great. We found some baskets and labeled them according to the sections. This way, young students only have to match the color on the book to the color on the basket. We created new labels for the unlabeled books and are just waiting on tape to put them on (the school didn’t have tape). We posted the rules publicly and are planning an assembly to educate the whole school on how to use the system.

I’m so proud of these kids’ efforts and I’m glad we had all that time to spend together!

Christopher & Deborah

Makin' labels

Another great example of this is my English curriculum. Last week, I started reading The Giver as a context for debating. The Giver is about a community that has a lot of rules, some of which have really negative consequences for the individual, and I wanted my students to consider this content as a way of exploring ways of thinking outside of their own communities. I was planning on debating whether the rules concerning lying, uniqueness, choice, and risk were just or not. But the unit got off to a rocky start. Enoch came to observe the first lesson, in which I stupidly planned to model discussion and then have them discuss after reading an entire chapter out loud. My thought was that the first chapter would give them an adequate introduction, and that if I went any slower than that, I would never get through all 23 chapters. I didn’t have the money to make copies of the chapters, and I only had one copy of the book. How else would I do it?

But the kids were confused, falling asleep, and uninterested. Enoch was correct in pointing out that the text was difficult for the kids to follow. So the next day, I tried breaking the 2^nd and 3^rd chapters up, with activities in between, and re-phrased a lot of the book to simpler language. I just felt too strongly that the students were not exposed to enough literature and the content was needed. But after a few failed activities, and a student asking me if they could read it instead of me because they couldn’t understand me, I decided to give up.

This happened to perfectly coincide with a spontaneous debate erupting in my classroom. Towards the end of a failing activity–a sinking ship– some students started debating whether lying was always wrong or not. The debate was a little superficial, but genuine, so I let it continue. Two camps emerged: lying is a sin, and lying can’t always be a sin. When it felt like it was hitting a dead end, I threw out the idea that sometimes people lie to save another’s life. I gave the example of an armed man asking where an innocent person was so he could kill them. The ensuing conversation was sophisticated and passionate.

The next day, I asked students to show me their normal debate format, because they usually debated quite frequently during the school’s “social development” time every Friday, and they seemed to enjoy debating. They organized everything themselves, choosing leaders and speakers. But their discussion was lackluster and boring. The chairperson chose members of the audience to speak at random instead of when the members wanted  to express their opinions. Afterwards, I asked the students to compare the debate from the previous day to this debate. There was an overwhelming push to return to yesterday’s format because it was more fun.

But I raised the issue of participation; while about 20 students were really engaged, the 14 others did not speak at all, and some were doing other work. So they suggested having a speaking order. But then, I pointed out, it would not flow like a conversation, and people would be forced to speak when they had nothing to say. When the students were stumped, I suggested the format of “inside/outside.”

Inside/outside is when you have an inner circle of students debating while an outer circle watches. After time is called, they switch. Except I added that we cannot switch until everyone in the middle has spoken at least once (I plan on boosting it up to twice, three times, etc. as time goes on). I also had to split the class into 4 groups because of the size. This format worked BEAUTIFULLY. They debated the classic Heinz Dilemma, with a few details changed, in groups of about 8. The quiet ones felt comfortable enough to speak, and the loud ones were forced to let others have a turn.

And all of this happened because the students took control.

2. Getting to know your students can’t wait.

It’s been really difficult for me to build relationships with my students. I usually am able to bond with my students using sarcasm, a common TV show, or an agreement that the way school is taught is boring. But I don’t have any of that here. Using any sort of slang is out of the question; students didn’t even know what “hi” was. I have no common interests with them, and I already know that most of their interests include football and netball, because there isn’t much else here. I also do not have a consistent time to play morning meeting games. I’m running out of time to cover the curriculum anyways.

But I realized that you can’t wait to get to know students. You can’t assume that it will come in time. Because next thing you know, you’ll be halfway through your time with them. And your ignorance of their lives will affect their learning now. If they don’t feel comfortable enough to share that they have malaria, or were sent home for not having shoes, you will not understand their seemingly irrational behavior and will be unjustly mad at them. And if you don’t know how they think, what they want, and what they’re capable of, you will not understand the work they turn in as well as you could. If you don’t watch the girls play their surprisingly violent ball game, you won’t know that they are actually very strong women, not passive, quiet girls. If you do not visit their dormitory and watch them tend to younger students, you will not know what is really expected of them. 

The girls' dormitory

Biira Bridget, Mawa Deborah & Sarah Sanyu hanging out during lunch

Sharing posho & beans

Bridget wanted a photo of me eating posho haha

If you don’t start having conversations with them, you won’t get the joy of talking about starfish, career aspirations, swear words, seasons, contraception (that was a funny conversation), two-story houses, and scuba diving. 

And you wouldn't be able to hang out with these cuties.

3. Organization is key.

I love America for having planning time within the school day. I will never take that for granted. It has been so difficult to plan on my own time. In fact, I have no “my own time,” apart from the trips we have planned. That and a schedule that remains the same every day would be really nice. But it all comes down to resources; they can’t make it that way, because they’re understaffed and lacking funds. They also lack resources for me to use to take attendance and plan lessons, and for a space for me to use. So due to all of this, I’ve felt really disorganized, which makes it difficult to teach. I can’t establish the routines I want to, and I can’t always easily find what I need.

The rest of organization, though, falls on my own shoulders. I need to find a good grading system that shows actual learning but is accessible, intentionally make time to accomplish my goals, and have a place for note-taking. All of this is hard to navigate for the first time, and it affects my teaching a lot.

4. It’s necessary to have structured ways for students to demonstrate learning.

Students here are not used to demonstrating knowledge in ways other than tests and rigid writing activities. Therefore it has been really hard for me to gauge their content mastery with novel activities. I’ve found that I have to think very critically about how to test to make sure I’m not adding an element that has not been taught. For example, what if I ask them to brainstorm something, but they do not know how to have productive group discussions? The skill has to be taught as well as the content. I also have had to teach how to ask a good clarifying question if they don’t understand me, because they will just say “teacher, I have not understood” (which is an improvement from the beginning), but not which part they didn’t get. I have also discovered the need for structured, mutually comprehensible ways of getting and giving feedback.

5. Establishing your educational intentions helps.

Students aren’t able to read your mind and guess why you’re doing what you’re doing. They won’t always know that you teach differently from another teacher on purpose. I’ve found that stating my philosophy openly and honestly is easier than being cryptic or not addressing it at all. It’s easier to establish that you have different expectations and then keep those as a reference point.

So, in sum, this week of teaching was much better than the last 3. I still made many mistakes and had many frustrating things happen, but I was able to handle them a lot better with the new relationships with my students.

Thanks for reading!

A greasy box can help you understand taxonomy!

I brought in a fish from the market to learn about the structure of a fish, and practice making observations

Dead fish! Get your face closer!

Safari So Good!

Posing with Basco John

 Every time I hear the word “safari,” I think of the title of a Scooby Doo movie that has been sitting in my parents’ basement for years. I didn’t understand until recently that it’s supposed to be a word play on “so far, so good.” But my safari last weekend was so good, so it seemed like a fitting title to me.

So we left the house at 6:30 AM on Saturday, and did not return until about 6:00 PM. It was a full day.

Upon arriving to Queen Elizabeth National Park, we first saw a gorgeous sunrise.

A reward for waking up early

We saw a few animals like kob and waterbucks and had to chase a hippo off the road, but the most exciting thing was finding a group of lionesses hunting some warthogs. The lionesses successfully isolated one warthog, but he got away. Later, though, we saw him trodding back to where the lionesses had gathered after giving up, painfully unaware of their presence. 

5 Lionesses!

 

 

Their dinner

We moved on, then stopped at a hill overlooking a salt lake that is used for salt mining. I tried some in its raw form; even though it looked like dirt it tasted like salt!

Salt lake mining

Then we ventured out to find some elephants. They are so majestic!! I felt like I was among dinosaurs, because they move so slowly and ominously. But they also looked like such gentle giants. The babies were playful and the mothers patient. 

Down at the Kazinga Channel

We stopped for lunch and I FINALLY got to try a Castle Milk Stout—the only dark beer around here that I’ve tried to order several times but, even though it’s on the menu, resturants never seem to have. I had a typical meal of fried goat meat, rice, and vegetables. I also had some chapati, my favorite snack of deep-fried dough (kind of like naan but greasier). The restaurant was on top of a hill overlooking the Kazinga Channel—it was absolutely blissful.

Meet my new best friend

The view of the channel at the restaurant

Finally, we embarked on a 2 hour boat launch on the Kazinga Channel. SUCH LIFE! There were elephants, buffaloes, baboons, lizards, hippos, kingfishers, cranes, storks, and even a rare black forest pig. We had another beer and enjoyed the breeze. The experience was only a bit tainted by the obnoxious tourists sharing the upper deck of the boat with us.

Thanks for the zoom lens, Uncle Leung!

Kingfisher!

Hippos!

I felt very tourist-y, going on a safari, even though the animals were so amazing and beautiful. Basco John, our tour guide, said that Ugandans have started to visit the park only within the last few years. Before then, safaris were seen as a mzungu thing. It’s cheaper for Ugandans to enter the park, but paying for transportation to even get to the park is an issue for many people. So do not leave this blog post with the impression that safaris are everywhere and super frequent for everyone in Africa. The animals that live in the parks are constricted to those environments because the rest of their habitat has been destroyed. They are protected animals because they are very few; they aren’t just roaming around where people live. Except in the villages within the park.

The Basongora are a tribe that traditionally herds cattle. When their cattle are attacked by lions, they poison the lions. This has been and continues to be a problem for environmentalists who see the need for lion repopulation, and for park officials who wish to maintain the tourist attraction. I learned all this a year and a half ago in an Ecology class at UW. We studied predator extirpation in Queen Elizabeth National Park and Parc National de Virunga (on the other side of the Congo border) and biodiversity in the Albertine Rift, where the Rwenzori Mountains are. I never dreamed that I someday I would actually be in those places! So that made the experience particularly cool.

The majestic Ugandan kob

A less flattering photo

The water buck lets a nasty fart out when it's threatened. The secretion soaks through its meat and therefore makes it undesirable to eat. So it can still be attacked and eaten, but the predator will not likely come back for more. What a cool defense mechanism!

A lake with sulfur-- injured hippos come to heal!