Lake Kivu

Laura and I set off for Lake Kivu on last Saturday AM. Luckily for us, the public transport is very close, about a 5 min walk from our house. There are a myriad of companies that offer trips from Butare to other cities. I found the buses to be rather organized, and left according to a strict schedule. This is different that my previous experience in Africa, when the bus left when there were enough people on it.

Most of the buses are “White Bullets,” 20 passenger vans that are shaped like a bullet, and painted white. They are Japanese made, and drive fairly well, and provide a comfortable ride.

We got a one way trip for 2 for about $8 total. Not bad, I know. We stopped off in the 2nd biggest town in Rwanda, Muhanga, and then hopped on a different bus for Karongi (old name Kibuye) on the shores of Lake Kivu. Lake Kivu is a volcanic lake that sits on the western border of Rwanda, and shares coastline with Congo on the other side of the lake. It is a pristine location! Here is a picture from the dining room from our hotel:

Luckily, there was a cheap room (~ $8 US for 2 beds) available. Laura and I prefer the cheaper options when it comes to hotels, for the most part. I will say that occasionally it is important to splurge on occasion, especially when living overseas.

It was a rather relaxing time away from life in the city. A lot of reading, chilling, and catching up with family back home. The food at the hotel was good, and plus there were not a lot of eating options in town, according to the Bradt Guide (Best guide about Rwanda, period.)

Our hotel arranged for a boat ride to Amohoro Island (remember the name for peace?) in the middle of the lake on the Rwandan side.

So swimming in any lake in the world is not without risk, even in the US. The freshwater lakes in Africa offer a different spin on safe swimming: infectious disease. There is a well known disease called Schistosomiasis that lives in Fresh water lakes and streams around the world, especially in Africa. It lives in small snails in the water. Larva emerge from the snails, latch on to your skin, and enters the blood. and causes problems months to years later. The species that is most endemic (i.e. native to) Sub-saharan Africa is called S. haematobium. The latin scholars among you will notice the haem- prefix, which means blood. It will cause our urine to turn red from bleeding, and will lead to bladder cancer. Now, depending on who you speak to, this may or may not be a problem in Lake Kivu. According to our guides, this was not a problem (a common saying about anything in this amazing continent.)

So, I took the plunge, and cooled off in the waters, even raced our boat driver in a freestyle/butterfly race. Well, after a tasty dinner and some further research, Schisto does exist in Lake Kivu in some areas. Luckily, Schisto is easily treated if caught at the right time, and there is a relatively cheap antiparasite medication that will cure you. In fact, my research shows that some de-worming campaigns have focused on this condition in other parts of Africa, including the shores of Lake Kivu.

Monday was spent reading some more, and getting some beach time in. Here is their version of a beach on Lake Kivu:

We then went on a sunset cruise with the same boat driver as yesterday. Folks, my favorite time of day is sunset. It provides a time to reflect on the day, lessons learned, and for improvements. Whenever I travel, I love to watch the sunset. It truly was a perfect sunset, and it served as a good way to end our trip:

We got up early the next day, (5 AM) and started our return to Butare. We had to stop off in Kigali to pick up Adolf, Laura’s good friend from Uganda. This is his first trip ever out of Uganda. He took an overnight bus from the capital, Kampala, and traveled about 12 hours until he arrived in Kigali around 4 AM. We left Kibuye around 530 on the first bus out, and met up in the Bus/Taxi park on the Northwestern part of Kigali. For the uninitiated, African Taxi Parks are a sea of humanity, and can be a complex thing to navigate. Luckily, we found him, and went on our way to purchase some goods at the local supermarket that are note available in Butare.

She has known him since he was a teenager in her former village, and accompanies her to the Orphanage whenever she is there. He will be living with us for the next month to help Laura on a month long educational session planned for the adolescents at Miryante, teaching them life skills for when the time comes for them to leave the Orphans home, and strike out on there own.

It is truly a good thing to see Laura excited about her upcoming month with Adolf, and her month long sojourn back to Miryante in October to spend time at a very special place for her. It has been difficult for her, as she has not had luck finding a nursing job here in Rwanda.

So, enough for now. More soon on life here in Butare, and orientation at the hospital.

Cheers,

cjc

Hello all-

We are back from Lake Kivu since Monday, and I just got done with Orientation at the hospital. It was a very positive day thus far.

My thoughts are with New Orleans today as it celebrates 10 years since Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans on 8/29/2005.  First there was a storm, then a man-made flood. That city I still love has beaten the odds, and is a better place than it was pre-Katrina (at least in my opinion, I am sure there are others out there that think differently. I am proud to have called it home for almost 9 years. Here is to New Orleans, and continued recovery.

Instead of waxing philosophically today about recovery, loss, triumph, all that stuff, I thought I would repost what I wrote 10 years ago.

I promise I will write more soon, and post pictures. Internet is a struggle here.

New Orleans, here is to you!

cjc

_________________________________________________________________________________

28 Aug 2005

Well, I was intending to use this beautiful Sunday afternoon in Mali to talk more about life in general here in Mali, the people I have met, the crazy, other worldly sights I have seen, and other such thoughts. However, my mind and my thoughts are with my friends in New Orleans, who are bracing for the sting of Hurricane Katrina. Since I have been living in New Orleans, there have been at least 5 tropical storms/hurricane scares, 2 of which I have evacuated for. My first ever experience was my first week of school at Tulane while I was earning my MPH. The first two days of school were cancelled, and yet nothing hit New Orleans. A few months later we were hit with another scare, one which forced us to evacuate to Memphis. Nothing really came of it though. During my first year of medical school in 2002, our first round of exams were cancelled due to a hurricane scare. Last Fall, while on my OB/GYN rotation, Hurricane Ivan was headed right for New Orleans, and forced us to evacuate to Houston. While that storm missed New Orleans, it did cause some minor damage.

Before I left New Orleans at the end of June, the nascent hurricane season had yet to rear her ugly head anywhere in the Atlantic. I recall packing up my belongings and storing the non-essentials that I really didn't need while I was in Africa at my cousin Mary's house in Mid-City. She allotted me some storage space in the first floor/basement of her raised double shotgun (New Orleans version of a duplex which is so named because you can shoot a shotgun through the front door, and the bullett will traverse the house and exit the back door). I recall pessimistically thinking that this might be the last time I would see any of my stuff, my old house on St. Mary, or possibly even some of my friends whose bradaggio is bigger than their brains, as I had the nagging suspicion that a hurricane would hit while I was away, and wipe out the city that I so loved. I hate being right (maybe). . . .

While this post is being written about 24 hours before Katrina will hit, I cannot expunge the thoughts of my "other home" from my worried soul: experiences I have had there (Mardi Gras, Jazz Fest, parties on the street), people I have met (classmates, best friends, lovers found and lost), the sights, sounds, and smells of an eclectic, hip, lost, treasure chest of a city, one that has somehow managed to live and breathe anew with each hurricane that endangered it. Somehow, New Orleans will find a way to survive this one; it has before, and it will again.

New Orleans, I salute you, I miss you and I wish you well my stoic friend.

Inshallah (God Willing),

Craig

Hello all-

Jet lag is now essentially gone. sleep has much improved.

I have started a garden, and planning a compost pile now with the help of our guards.

Magnum, the dog, is settling in well. Since I have been off, we usually make coffee/tea in the AM, and take him for a walk throughout the neighborhood, called Taba. We then run him in our yard at night. Per our new friends Medie and Robbin, Americans from CA who work for HRH, we live in the "yuppie" part of town. While walking through the neighborhood, we get a lot of stares from the locals. I guess walking a dog is not really a thing here. But, we enjoy it nonetheless.

I am still figuring out how to upload pics to this blog from my phone. I guess there is yet another app I have to download to do that. Yes, there is an app for your app for that app! Ugh.

We are off to Karongi (formerly Gisenyi, a name change I will describe later.), which is on Lake Kivu, Northwest of here. In theory, it should be about a 4 hour bus ride. We need some relaxation time before my orientation begins at the hospital next week, and Laura's friend from Uganda arrives next week to work on her orphanage.

Hope all is well back in your neck of the woods. Drop me a line on the reply link if you wish.

Will likely post again sometime on Tuesday evening, internet permitting.

A tout la heur (see you soon),

Craig

20 August-

I am usually somewhat lucky with travel, especially internationally. However, the start to this journey was far from the usual. 

So my journey to Rwanda was supposed to have started on Tuesday, Aug 11, with a 510 pm flight to NYC, then Amsterdam, then Kigali. There were only 1 hour layovers, so it would have been tight, but I had my Birkenstocks on, which would have made barefoot running through the connecting airports a breeze!

On the way to the airport, my Delta app dinged, stating the flight was cancelled. My Mom was driving my car to get used to it (I lent my 2011 Nissan Altima to my parents while I am away, Gulp.) Needless to say a few choice WTF and F-bombs were dropped by both of us. We continued to drive downtown to pick up my Dad from work as I called the Delta agent. She did not seem to understand that my final destination was Rwanda; she was too focused on the earlier parts of the trip. After some gentle coaxing by me, she then rebooked me on a flight for the next day, leaving at 250 pm to Atlanta, then to Amsterdam, then Mt Kilamanjaro, airport, then Kigali.

Well, I should have known more issues would have happened. After a rather productive, and relaxing lagniappe (Cajun for a little something extra) day with the parents, my Mom and I departed again for the airport. No texts this time stating the flight was cancelled, nor was there any bad weather anywhere on my journey. I get to the airport, say my tearful goodbye, and then head in to the check-in counter. Donna, the Delta ticket agent, seemed a little nervous; she seemed new? I arrived at 115 to speak with her. Needless to say we spent some quality time together over the next hour and 10 minutes! Apparently, my passport information on my ticket was incorrect, and her system stated I needed a visa to show her prior to issuing a ticket. I checked in online prior to arriving at the airport, and all of my information was correct online. I showed her emails, documenting to the contrary that I needed a Visa. After multiple phone calls to Delta people, the issue got fixed. I am still not sure what the problem was, but it was fixed. I think the Delta agent that re-booked my ticket made a mistake. So the  relaxing time at Cleveland Hopkins International Airport I had envisioned now became a mad dash to security. So, I have to ask Donna to get me through the TSA security line, VIP-style, and barely board my fight to ATL. Oh yeah, did I mention the $675 in baggage fees I had to pay? (3 of my own, and 2 of Laura’s; luckily this is reimbursable.) They would not give me a break on that. 

I connect to ATL fine, and board with no problem to Amsterdam. I get my seat, and relax for a bit, which then becomes longer than usual. Turns out there was a slight mechanical problem with the luggage bay doors, so that put us back by 20 minutes. I hear the engines start to purr, and think, OK, here we go. Then an announcement crackles over the intercom: "Any medical professional, please report to the back of the plane.” So, I get up, and walk back. There were a few people surrounding an elderly women, who looked out of it and pale. Turned out she had a seizure. I will spare you the remaining details. Needless to day, this delayed us even more. The most important thing was that she was OK. But she refused to get off the plane, stating she was fine, and did not want to be monitored, not be checked out my medical personnel off of the plane. She was heading on the trip of a lifetime to a certain destination in Africa, and was determined to make it. After some coaxing from the Delta staff, she begrudgingly deboarded the plane. Total delay in ATL: 2 hours. Needless to say, no one on that plane was going to be making their flights. 

I got in a few cat naps here and there, enjoyed the good KLM food, watched some quality movies, and made it to Amsterdam relatively intact. They had said Delta had already rebooked our flights. Well, that was not the case. I deboard the plane, and ask the lady in charge where to go to get my new ticket. I saw the long line, and my heart dropped a bit. In addition to the long line, I guess in Amsterdam, if you ask another agent at another booking location for assistance, they walk right up, and cut in front of others. So that took an additional hour. I was able to now get a flight from Amsterdam to Nairobi, Kenya, then a brief stop in Entebbe, Uganda, then Kigali, Rwanda. This would now get me in at 1145 pm.

The next leg from Amsterdam to Nairobi was fairly straight forward, except for the end. They had to re-approach due to being to close to another plane landing, then undershot the landing area, and had to be towed in to the correct location, and then had to reposition the stairs. 

Luckily, the rest of the trip from Nairobi to Uganda to Rwanda was a breeze. I arrive in Rwanda, exhausted, and expecting my luggage to not have made it. Luckily, all 5 pieces were there!

So, here is the comparison of the trips:

Should have been: 26 hours (including time change), 2 stops, leaving Tuesday, arriving at 710 on Wednesday.

Reality: 32 hours, 4 stops, leaving Wednesday, arriving at 1145 pm on Thursday!

The best part of the trip: seeing Laura at the airport, with my driver!

Oh air travel, how you vex me so.

More to come soon (internet signal depending) on life here in Rwanda, and my upcoming work.

Amohoro,

Craig

10 years ago, last week, I departed on my first year-long adventure to Africa. It is truly amazing what else has happened since my first trip, both good and bad. I am a better person for it, and I have learned a lot. I am looking forward to seeing what the next year(s) has in store for me. 

Here is a link to my previous blog: craigermali.blogspot.com.

Much more to come soon. 

Craig