Uganda
Scott McAdams, 7/25/2022
“What the fu** am I doing here?” I thought while squatting hunched over, knees bent at a 60-degree angle, crammed inside a 4'x4' outdoor toilet stall. Insects buzzed most crevices of my body and the smell would make you miss your great aunt’s breath. It was pitch dark. The headlamp and N-95 mask were my saving grace. And prayers. Prayers that I did not miss the hole in the ground…
[now that I caught your attention with the dramatic cold open, let me back up a step for an important Author’s Note and some background on this adventure]
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Author’s Notes:
#1 In this piece I’ll write about my experience in Uganda. I’ll talk about things that made the priveleged American in me “uncomfortable” and “unfamiliar”. At no point should my expression of emotion and feeling come across as ungrateful. You’ll come to learn I found the people of Uganda to be some of the freindliest and most welcoming I’ve ever met. Especially our hosts — of which, there were many — whom we now consider dear friends. So, friends of Uganda, if you read this, just understand we were experience things for the first time… and we’re a lot weaker than you in many ways.
#2 You’ll see I italicized a few things in note number one. Mainly to point out that this interpretation of my experience in Uganda is my own. However, my wife (Megan) was by my side through the vast majority of it and she is owed a whole lot of credit for emotional, psychological, and physical support. Oh, and the majority of the planning. She basically gets co-authorship of anything in here she wants and can recuse herself from anything foolish that I say!
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I’m sure you are eager to get an explanation for my ‘WTF moment’ that I opened with…
This was my first number two during our 6-night stay at the Hope 4 Youth primary school in Mukono, a small village just east of Kampala, Uganda’s capital city.
OK. Now that we are off the edge of the cliff, let me back up a bit and tell you what Megan and I are doing in Uganda in the first place.
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We’re 33 years of age. We’ve both been fortunate to have nice careers that allowed us to pay off student loans and live in big cities. Further, we both worked for companies that benefitted (fiscally) from Covid. We we’re working a lot during the heart of the pandemic. I understand this is something we should be thankful for — and we are, truly — but it had another effect, too.
As we ricocheted from bedroom to kitchen (working space) to dinner table (working space) and back again, like a boring ping-pong match, in our 900-sq. foot apartment we asked ourselves “is this what life is all about?”… I know we weren’t alone in this form of questioning; the great resignation has been well documented. When people signed up for marriage, kids, roommates, etc., I’m fairly certain the lawyers left out the clause about 24/7/365 quarantine time!! And as much as this joke will live on infamy — because it is truly timeless — I realize the pandemic was likely even more challenging for those who had to do it alone.
The Covid pandemic was and continues to be awful. Quarantine stunk out loud no matter who you were (challenge me, introverts!). We asked ourselves a ton of questions that no one was around to answer. We learned a lot (because we had all the answers, duh).
“Is this what life is all about?”- us, on repeat
“[resounding] No!”- also us, on repeat
“Let’s quit our jobs and travel the world to gain some perspective on how good we really have it before we begin the next chapter of our lives.”- an agreeable conclusion that took very little convincing from either party
So, that’s what we did. We quit our jobs (gracefully, I think!) and put a plan in place to go see the world in a different manner than we could if we were doing our standard 7–10 day corporate America vacations. We’ve got many principles for the trip but the few that derive from having the luxury of time include: travel slow, travel far from home to places that would be difficult to execute on vacation time, chase Summer, experience life & culture beyond the western world, give back where we can, don’t run out of money, and “take the road less traveled” (during planning I came up with this fun motto that I think people will really like… maybe it catches on and becomes a tagline or hashtag or something!).
Based on the principles, we roughly decided on an itinerary that included two months in Africa, two months between Japan & SE Asia, two months across Australia & New Zealand, and if we’re still married, two months in South America. Before all my former European and Canadien colleagues start yelling “why not us!!” please recognize we’d rather use this time to learn how to order pad thai using only hand gestures before we have another ham & cheese croissant! (kidding, kind of. We love you and your parts of the world. We absolutely plan to come through during our travels. Just directionally, we have deprioritized the places we have been before.)
Holy shit. This is the point in the piece I realize I’ve entirely buried the headline. But if you’ve ever heard me tell a story before you know how important I believe the details are. If you’re still with me (god bless you!), grab another drink, here’s when I tell you how we chose Uganda and what we are doing here.
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Early June 2022 we set out for Cape Town, South Africa — thanks to good recommendation from our neighbor in San Francisco who’s traveled the world extensively and called Cape Town a “top 5 city in the world”. We spent 3+ amazing weeks ingraining ourselves in the culture: learning about the rise & fall of apartheid, visiting the Langa Township, hiking the mountains & beach paths, touring wine country, testing as many of the hundreds of coffee shops we could to see who knows how to make an iced coffee(IYKYK), befriending locals to teach us how rugby works, and eating our way through town. Very few places in the world can claim mountains, ocean, big city, rich wildlife, and plentiful countryside (w/ a world-class wine country) all together like that. I could live in Cape Town; I absolutely loved it.
After Cape Town, we headed northeast in South Africa for a safari on a private game reserve connected to Kruger National Park. This experience was not only incredible but we owe just the idea of a safari a major credit to why we visited this part of the world. I could write all about the animals, the game drive experiences, and the tremendous people that hosted us — but that’s not why we’re here. Let’s talk about Uganda.
During planning I flipped through the Africa section of a trip-builder book. Knowing we had our first ~month planned between Cape Town & Safari, I was in charge of figuring out what was next. I flipped to a page on Uganda (yoo-gaan-duh), not even sure I knew how to pronounce it at the time, and two things caught my attention: they called it “the pearl of Africa” and it featured a body of water called Lake Victoria, one of the primary sources of the Nile (this is argued amongst Ugandans and I don’t really have the authority to make a statement on it). “Sweet!” I thought. In hindsight, no idea why I gave a hoot about the nickname — after all, they call Dayton, Ohio “the Gem City” and I’ll let you be the judge. Go Flyers! — and I later learned that Lake Victoria was pretty much unswimmable due to a bacteria. Nonetheless, I chased down some resources to see if anyone I knew would be willing to shed some light on Uganda. And we struck gold!
I went back to our neighbor who recommended Cape Town, assured he had been to Uganda before given his tales of traveling throughout Africa. “Nope. Never been. But I do have a dear friend, who, if willing to help, knows everything about Uganda!” We were then introduced to Sara. She was ecstatic to learn that other Americans she had a second connection to had interest to visit Uganda. At the time of this writing, we’ve yet to meet Sara IRL. We had one 90-minute Zoom call where the magic happened. Despite it all, Sara and I recently exchanged texts deeming “we are connected for life [whether we like it or not]” thanks to the magnitude of our experience in Uganda, and her willingness to make it all happen through connections.
When the magic was happening, Sara told us Uganda was her second home and she’s dying to get back. Covid has stifled travel for her and we later learned, for the vast majority of tourism into Uganda. During our Zoom call, Sara told us about a few inspiring organizations she was involved in throughout the country, assuming we’d have no interest and really just wanted to hear about the gorillas! [Uganda (and surrounding countries Rwanda and Congo) are famous to tourists for the ~1,000 or so gorillas left in this world, occupying the Virunga Mountains. ~500 of the gorillas are ‘habituated’ meaning they are comfortable and safe with human interaction. After all, we share like 97% of the same DNA as gorillas.]
Yes, we acquired tracking permits for the gorillas and had an out-of-body experience with these beautiful, gentle creatures. But, like Cape Town & the Safari, that’s not what this story is about… let me get back to that Zoom call.
Sara rifled through a few of the organizations she had been involved in with cautious optimism… “I’m sure you two don’t have much interest in volunteering at a children’s primary school while you’re there?” Actually, that’s right up our alley. “We would love to!” The list of ‘Sara’s Projects’ went on and not only did they keep striking a chord, but we had no reason to object. We knew nothing about Uganda and a close acquintance of a good friend who called Uganda her second home that was willing to hand over her playbook. Remembering our core principles, much to our new friend Sara’s delight, we were in for it all. Not knowing what we had signed up for, Sara went on to make dozens of local introductions for us in Uganda. And like that, our next 21 days of the trip were planned.
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If you Google “Uganda” you will learn it has a population of ~45 million, the official languages are English and Swahili (Luganda is a third language that is widely spoken), it became an independent country in 1962 following a near-70-year run under UK governance, holds hostile elections every 5 years, and ranks somewhere in the mid-90’s on global GDP.
My interpretation of this research (like most projects I did during my youth) = you will learn nothing. You must visit to learn about the beautiful culture and people of Uganda (this principle applies to most everywhere, I imagine — other than Wrigley Field, it’s fine just to watch the game at your local pub). Seeing is believing.
The poverty is real. And harsh. For someone like me, at least, to see and experience. Honestly, it looks just like it does in pamphlets I’ve read and movies I’ve seen: dusty dirt roads, ripped clothing, starving children, dim-lit or altogether abandoned storefronts.
The most alarming aspect of the poverty that I witnessed in Uganda was power & water, or lack thereof. These two things I use in some aspect for almost every moment of my 24-hour daily cycle. Think about it for a moment. Then, think about having to walk two miles (or more… a lot more!) to town to fill up a plastic jug with (non-potable) water to retreieve for your families laundry, meals, “showers”… And unless you have superpowers and can carry a dozen heavy (25+ lbs at least) jugs in two hands, you will be back tomorrow. Let’s hope the well hasn’t dried! [note: these tasks are widely carried out by women and children] Ugh, don’t get me started on electricity. A luxury in this part of the world.
However, the poverty [and people who experience it] here behaves differently than it does in other parts of the world (as it relates to what I’ve witnessed). It’s not dangerous or mean or even sad. There is not civil unrest. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact. The people look after one another. Smiles and laughter are abundant and contagious.
And to visitors from the western world? About as welcoming as it gets. You’re treated like a celebrity. “mzungu! mzungu!” became our favorite greeting from locals — a swahili word meaning ‘white person’ but not in a way that’s offensive, rather, it’s a way of saying “we see you and thank you for being here”. Imagine that!
If you’re lost and need help with directions, locals will walk you to your destination — not looking for a handout either, just to ensure you enjoy your experience in Uganda and experience a “safe journey” as they like to say. If you stop into someones home, you’re not allowed to leave until you’ve accepted a warm welcome that usually consists of some local fare, tea, and a biscuit for the road. [it’s like if you entered my folks house you wouldn’t be allowed to leave until you agreed to a drink!]
What might ‘look’ unfamiliar, uncomfortable, dangerous even… isn’t. It just takes some getting used to.
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One of ‘Sara’s Projects’ we got connected with was an introduction to a man named Herbert. A very special man we are lucky to have met.
Herbert has a wife and four kids at home. They reside in the villages of Kisoro — a region (and town) in the southwest corner of the country — that is widely dependent on tourists to come through and track gorillas [note: “track” is a term I learned on this trip that basically means ‘do a tour/hike up into the mountains to go see the gorillas’. You’re welcome for the free grammar lesson.].
Herbert got a degree (seemingly rare) in social work at university up in Kampala but came back to Kisoro for work in tourism, acting as a gorilla tracking guide. He worked for a private company that cared (and relied) on the bottom line; no fault here. As I understand it, this is where Herbert met Sara.
The company offered group tours of the gorillas, chimpanzees, golden monkeys (that are also uniquely found in this part of the world), and visits to the Batwa Tribe (commonly known as pygmies).
In my own words, the Batwa Tribe is a centuries old group of people native to this area. They lived (for centuries) high in the forests of the Virunga Mountains as hunter-gatherers. It was not until 1991 — maybe the wildest part of this story — when the Batwa were kicked out of their land without compensation or support to reestablish their livelihood.
From Wikipedia (a source that got me through college for all the haters!):
In a report on the Batwa people in October 2021, a reporter for the PBS Newshour called the Batwa “among the poorest inhabitants of one of the world’s poorest countries”.
Thirty years later, some thousands of Batwa find themselves surviving in the modern world of Kisoro, Uganda and it’s surrounding land… thanks to people like Herbert.
In 2016, after many years of reliable income for his family with the tourism company, Herbert decided that charging tourists to visit the Batwa when profit goes to the company’s bottom line just wasn’t right. He decided to do something about it. After selling his car and rounding up his savings, Herbert created a non-profit organization, bought 20 acres of land and began developing. Today, ~25 families live in small huts on this beautiful land at the base of the Virunga Mountains.
When Sara heard Herbert’s story and his vision, she knew she had to get involved. That’s just the type of person she is. I think she may have had something to do with the water source here…
During our visit to Kisoro, we got to spend many days with Herbert, getting the great pleasure to know him personally: a warm, kind, soft-spoken man with a huge smile that he shared often. We heard stories of his home life and got to see pictures of his kids. We hiked Lake Mutanda together — which reminded me of a hike Megan and I did a few years back on the island of Maui. But the highlight was our private visit to the Batwa land Herbert (and friends) have developed over the last 6 years. This was like getting the office tour of Twitter from Elon Musk… errr… I mean Tesla! (sorry, cheap joke, back to being serious)
It was amazing and intimate and incredibly emotional. Throughout the few hours we spent there I felt a wide range of emotions from joy, to anger, to extreme sadness, to feeling as if I had an unwarranted privelege in life.
Seeing children walk around covered head-to-toe in dirt, without clothes, wondering where they might find their next nursing mother had me nearly doubled over in pain… how do they survive? I thought. I never found the answer to that but seeing the strong teenage boys and girls lead ritual dances and have well-conducted english-language conversations with us left me with hope. Maybe it’s mind over matter — like my other new dear friend from Uganda, Dorothy, instructed me to believe. Whatever it is, somehow, they band together to survive.
My cure for the pain and sadness? Those smiles. The waving. The welcoming. And hope.
Once I pulled myself together, we headed for the exits. Only on our way out we ran into a Batwa woman in her early 90’s (!!!) who was coming back from one of her daily chores: collecting firewood. Through Herbert’s translations (she was speaking their native language), she was thanking us for coming to visit their land. I begged Herbert to let me help her carry some of that wood on her head back to her hut. He inquired. She avidly shook me off but began to cry saying “You’re our first visitors since Covid hit — hopefully life is starting to get back to normal. We’re so thankful you came to see us. Had I known, I would have never gone for firewood today!”
This was the lifelong lesson on perspective that I needed.
Thank you Herbert for the work you do. You make the world a better place.
Thank you Sara for introducing us to this wonderful country, this man they call Herbert, and the support you’ve given him. We’re forever indebted.
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That night, like all of our others in Kisoro, we returned to our lodge. Like many other lodges in the area, it caters to traveling tourists (like us — mostly Europeans and Americans) visiting the area to track gorillas. This place was awesome. Quaint, peaceful, good comfort food (french toast that’ll change your life), and fully stocked bar. Also, strong trees in the courtyard that accomodated for my afternoon hammock sessions! Major key.
On our last night at the lodge, I cried like a baby. None of my family will be surprised by this. Rather, if they’ve read this far (doubtful!) they will laugh their ass off! I’m always crying.
We became closely acquinated with the staff members here — like most places we’ve stayed on our trip, the staff becomes our family. Enaging in nightly discussions about life, family, food, the local economy and politics became the norm. One particular fella served us our meals each morning for breakfast and each evening for dinner. We got to know him. We got to love him.
What hurt me was hearing what he has to go through to feed his family. He works somewhere between 350–360 days a year and spends most nights overnight at the lodge because of early mornings/late evenings catering to customers. He makes about $10/day. And this is a good life. He’s happy to have the work and “if I can send my kids to school that’s all I care about”.
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After a week in Kisoro, we took a sweet prop plane up and across the country back to the capital city of Kampala. From there, we went another hour east to Mukono Town where we spent a week volunteering at Hope 4 Youth (HFYU), a private primary school (P1-P7, or ages ~7–15ish) for about 230 students. This was the scene of the crime from my opening act…
A man called Peter started the school in 2008 with “a few children under a tree” on family land. Now HFYU educates ~250 students (w/hot lunch everyday), houses a few staff members on-property, and provides a place for dozens of graduates (now young adults) to come back and volunteer their time with the kids. Like Herbert, Peter pledged his life to creating a better life for these children and it was remarkable to see first-hand.
We stayed “on-campus” so-to-speak, neighboring up next to a few of the teachers who lived in the same building. While our days were filled with classroom visits, a library clean-up project, and sports with the kids, our evenings involved a short walk to the town market, cooking local fare, and playing card games with our new neighbors.
The quarters were tight. The days were long. It was challenging to live without running water, electricity, and a proper toilet.
But my goodness did we gain a new appreciation for the little things in life. Not to mention, our new neighbors (now friends), took great care of us. Peter and Miss Florence and the rest of the HFYU staff catered to our every need. We are forever grateful for the experience to stay at HFYU in the manner we did — and like most organizations around the world, they haven’t had many visitors since Covid hit… so, yea, we got treated like celebrities! (and thank you, Sara, again! Another plug from her)
To the teaching staff, senior boys, and senior girls who come back to volunteer your time — keep it up. You are those kids role models and you will change their lives. You already have. The obedience in the classroom puts my third-grade homeroom to shame. The advanced english most of your students speak is remarkable. The weekend sports, nutrition, library, and farming projects you have developed are impressive, you have strong ground to build on.
Like many schools throughout Uganda, resources are limited. HFYU relies on fundraising to keep the lights on, let alone build better infrastructure. The last few years have been tough. Keeping staff hired was a challenge. All to say, what we saw last week was a foundation for success — and what better sign of success than happy, enthusiastic, well-behaved students who want to learn!!
Did I mention the kids? There are too many interactions and funny moments to recall here but we fell in love. Our hearts will forever be with HFYU and we hope to stay connected & involved for many years to come. Here are a few pictures to help tell the story!
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Why did I choose to write about Uganda?
Why didn’t I write more about Table Mountain, one of the 7 wonders of the world? Or the penguins and baboons we met down in Simon’s Town. What about the Big 5 we saw on our Safari? How about all of the insane food we have eaten on our trip so far?
The world does not need another travel blogger who excels in food porn and portrait mode selfies. This is not a knock on anyone who does this. As a matter of fact, we spend most of our evenings reading those blogs for reviews and recs figuring out what to do next. Please keep them coming!
Also, I have IG and plan to keep pumping that site with all my favorite sunsets, eggs benedicts, and influencers in the wild. Don’t you worry.
Uganda deserves this more.
You won’t hear me suggesting “you need to” or even “you should” travel to Uganda. Even during good times, we all have enough issues in our backyard to try and solve for. How could any of us possibly make a big enough impact to create meaningful change in a country so far removed from my radar? Near impossible.
That day when we visited the Batwa, I felt utterly and entirely moved. I felt compelled to share my experience. Then the school visit happened — and lots of other Ugandan-experiences in-between — and so I decided to reflect on Uganda as a whole and a few special people trying to improve this country for generations to come. We’re just lucky to have walked the same streets.
My message is this: if you have a desire and the means to travel, do it. When you do, try to veer off the beaten path a bit to see what else is out there. It will likely excercise your heart and your mind; I’m no doctor but I think that’s probably a good thing. And if you don’t have the means or desire to travel, that’s OK too, but check things out in your own backyard where I’m certain there is more to explore.
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And if you want to travel to Africa, you must. If you can make time for Uganda, hit me up, we know the best local expert + travel agent in the business for an authentic experience!
For anyone who is still with me, you’re a saint. Thanks for reading!
Until next time, “safe journey”!
