Ok so I was intending on putting my whole typed blog update but I ran out of time so I just had to stop after loading one picture so here is some more.
Now I have been to the top of mount Waneli twice. Mt Waneli is a large mountain that stands just beside the town of Mbale. It is huge and looks magnificent from my house here in the village. I watch the sun rise from behind it when I get up early and its just glorious. My Ugandan friend Lydia is originally from a village up the very top of the mountain so she has taken me to the top twice.
The first trip.
We went to town around 9am to find a truck that was heading to the top. We had to wait for quite some time so we waited in a café and had chai (milk tea). We then paid our 1000 shillings each and jumped in the front of a truck carrying some goods to the top of the mountain. They are quite dodgy in that they will send all the people that want to ride in the back of the truck, to a point on the road that is beyond the police check point. So all the people have to get Bodas about 2km out of town so the driver doesn’t get a fine. So after a short drive we got to the point where they were to wait and they all jump on the back of the truck.
So we drove up the mountain. It was just glorious. It has beautiful views all the way of magnificent waterfalls that stretch possibly 200m down the mountain. There are many villages that line the roads. We saw many little children carrying jerry cans to get water from the well or from some of the many natural springs of water on the mountain. Most of the children are far too young to be sent to get water but that’s how they do it here in Uganda. They never seem to keep an eye on their children.
Of course they don’t often see a Muzungu so many of them were very excited to see me sitting in the front of the truck. A few kids gave me evil glares then they would draw their finger slowly across their throat attempting to scare into me the idea that they wanted to kill me. Hmm sick idea of a joke, or a very scary thing that a child so young would have such a hate for muzungus.
The mountain has so many villages scattered across it. We see many women and children sitting outside their huts as though there is not a worry in the world or no urgent duties that need doing before the sun goes down. Others wash clothes in brightly coloured basins that strike a contrast with the mud, stick and straw huts in which they sleep. Bent over at the hips, often resting one arm on a knee they draw the cloth out of the soap sud filled water, scrubbing twice the cloth against itself then plunging it back into the water. At the same time they shift the cloth in their hand to allow a new space to be scrubbed against itself producing suds, as an almost indicator of the soaps quality and effectiveness. Other basins that line the ground outside the hut doors are also water filled however this time a little dark bottom can be seen from a child bathing. Siblings may assist in splashing enough water on the childs body to give it a good cleaning. Again the African style of drawing water out towards the body has the hand cupped slightly and the thumb lined to ensure maximum amount of water reaches the body. The little bodies can often be seen with a ring of beads tied around their midrift. I have been told that it is an attempt to ensure the child grows to have a small waist and a good African bottom. Cows munch on the grass asending high up the mountain. The rope attached to their foot is pulled taught as they stretch to the furthest point it will allow. Struggling against the rope and yet there is plenty of grass for it to chew within ropes reach but somehow not desirable enough for the cow.
We reached the station point where we were to get out and start walking up towards Lydia’s village. We had a beautiful hike up the mountain. Once we reached Lydias village we where met by her uncle and aunt and their eight kids. They are all gorgeous kids and the smallest ones were scared of me. We went and had a look at the sight that Lydia is hoping to turn into a camp site for tourists so that people up the top can attempt to break out of their poverty cycle.
The view is absolutely amazing. Mbale town can be clearly seen as well as all the little huts scattered through out the Mbale district in their own little villages. The drop from the mountain is so sudden that you feel you could do a road runner trick and run off the edge and just keep going.
The family told us they were give us some lunch so we waited around. We went and met her Grandmother who was just gorgeous. She has a tiny hut about 1.5m x 2.5m. She fed us Irish with curry sauce which was sooooo good but we had to leave room for our lunch. We visited a few other families and was warmly welcomed by them all. She showed me the school which was quite sad to see. Just a large mud hut, no chairs or desks and one broken blackboard. I cant imagine how much the children can actually learn when they have no pen, paper chairs or desks.
Finally Lydias stepmom (in other words the second wife of her father. He has quite a few wives and many children.) had lunch ready for us at 5pm. So we ate the toughest chicken I have ever had to bite through. I thought you would need dog teeth to be any way successful at eating it. I watched Lydia and used some of her techniques to rip through the meat. As I was the guest of honor I was given the “pleasure” of eating the gizzard. For those that don’t know, the gizzard is the part of a bird that is filled with stones and does the initial digestion of any food consumed by a bird. I forced myself to try it and I even took a photo as evidence. Once I got to the stones I had to give up so Lydia’s step mum was more than happy to finish it for me. I think I have failed to mention to you the Ugandans eat with their hands.
I really needed to be heading home in order to get there before dark but Lydia and her family had a “chat” / heated discussion about someman that has ripped them off and never given them some doors they paid for. SO by the time we left the sun was going down. One of the little girls from a nearby hut run out and handed me 1L of milk in a cavera (plastic bag). It was such a beautiful gift from such a poor family to give me a whole litre.
We started to descend and they asked Lydia if the muzungu would be fine walking down and just as I said Yes I slipped down onto my butt. So they ran and got a stick for me. They also gave Lydia and I a huge sack of Irish, sweet potatoes, pumpkin and maize on the cob. So two little boys carried about 10kg on their head. It got dark at the point where we reached the road. We were too late to get a truck that was coming back down the mountain. So Lydias cousin put the massive load of food on her head and walked without hands balancing and we started what we thought would be a long dangerous walk down the mountain and back to town. It could have taken us hours and was extremely dangerous to be moving at night as that’s when people attack and kill once night comes. We walked about 20mins when a piki piki (motorbike) came past. It already had 2 men on the bike but Lydia stopped them and they were happy to take me with them. So me and my bag and my cavera of food squished on the bike. Thank goodness they drove slowly on the gravel bits as we could very easily slip when its such a stead descend. I made it home safely but worried the Duffields a little which I fully understand.
SECOND TRIP
The second trip that we made up the mountain was with Beth and her father, grandmother and grandfather that had come to visit Beth. Her grandparents are 80yrs old but they are fit people. So we bought some sweets for the kids that we knew would follow us on the mountain. Again all the way the children screamed out to us. This time Lydias father was driving us all the way. There again were some stops up the mountain to get some snaps. We made it to the top after having to get out once because we got bogged. Again the family was happy to see us.
We had lunch there again, had another look at the glorious mountain. This time while I waited for the grands to climb to the view point I was able to spend time taking in the glory of God. It is truly spectacular.
We left after lunch and drove all the way down in the tray of the ute and tried to throw sweets for the children as we went. Some of them were so scared they ran as if some muzungu was throwing grenades at them. It was actually quite horrible to see just how frightened they were when we threw things at them. But others knew they were sweets and we caused a few punch ups as they fought over the sweets. On the way down we saw a school mission statement that made us laugh. Have a look.
Possibly the funniest sign Ive ever seen. Hmm would you consider sending your kids to this school???
We then drove back down the mountain, ate some quality muzungu food at Oasis restaurant, got a lift home with Lydias friend and dropped off some school materials, nearly got eaten by a dog when our car got bogged in the mud as it was raining heavily but made it home safely.
This is my favorite photo of the trip. They are such beautiful people.
Here I am using a coal iron. We have to use these occasionally when we have no power. They work pretty but sometimes leave ash on your clothes. 
This is me with fat little 4yr old Anisha. I was carrying her African style because she had fallen asleep and the best place to put a baby in Arica is on your back. She just woke up for the photo.
here is a snap in Robs work place. We just wanted a photo of us together in Uganda but it could be anywhere really.
Patricia and Bea in traditional outfits called Kitengi. Two daughters from the Congo missionary.
