Sister Therese

A friend wrote me a message, telling me about a German lady, who lives in Africa since decades as a nun and founded several dispensaries. If i’m passing by that area i should visit her, he suggested. And indeed, it seemed i’m pretty close there anyway.

On my way i got stopped by the traffic police. Once more. While the officer check my papers he wanted to know where i’m heading to. I told him the story of the old lady, doing so many good things for local people. I admire to meet her and maybe making some photos of the place she founded, i explained. As the officer has seen my camera he wanted me to do a portrait shot of himself. I did. With a smile on both of us he let me go.

Just ask for ‚Sister Therese‘ when you reach the town, my friend advised me. And indeed, even the people on the street didn’t recognized the name of the dispensary, they reacted promptly on the name of the nun. But Sister Therese doesn’t live here anymore. The new chairman of the small hospital organized a nice chap who’s guiding me to the new founded dispensary of Sister Therese. It was about an hour drive or so. Maurice asked me to stop in a village to introduce me with the chief, who owns a shop. It’s all interesting and so much to learn about, but also time consuming. Finally we reached the dispensary and i met Sister Therese in person. After a brief tour trough the building and nearby garden, she told me her story by a soup and tea. Since she was a young girl she wanted go somewhere far. As a young nun she went to Southern Africa, studied to become a nurse and stayed many years in Zimbabwe. Many stories about trouble and terrible times, in Southern and later in Eastern Africa, but also about never ending hope and times of happiness. Her eyes are always smiling even when she’s telling dark stories. A truly strong woman, which i’d like to spend more time with, but it got late and time to leave for me. Despite the short time with her, it let a deep impression on my way out of the bush.

Rough Road To Kenya

I could take the nice tarred road out of Uganda, but the scenery on the northern slope of Mount Elgon was to tempting. The road became more bumpy and dusty with every mile, but bigger also the people smile. From time to time i had to stop for a photo, or just for the stunning view, or simply to give way to a big truck on narrow roads. Time schedule got lost. Instead of a few hours drive i needed all day to reach the Kenyan border post. The last village before frontier i found a fuel station where the diesel pump worked by hand. Can’t remember when i had such a laughter with tank guys filling up my diesel tank.

The Salt Lake

Katwe is a village at northern end of Lake Edward. Along a dusty, bumpy road are some shops and gloomy bars. Most of people living in the houses scattered in the neighborhood or next to the huge lake. At first glimpse just another quite village somewhere in Uganda. But there is something special. Just next to this village, beyond a low crater rim, a small lake appears. At the shore are many ponds in different sizes and colors, mostly dark reddish to almost black. The high quantity of salt makes it worth to collect it. This business grew over generations, and the trade system is still the same. There is no big company who owns the salt, but families taking care for their own plot. A plot usually get inherited to the next generation of the family. Beside the plots, there are also men who walking in the middle of the shallow lake. With iron sticks they break the salty rocks from the ground of the lake and bring it on rafts on land. The salt, crystalline or as rocky plates, get shifted on shore, protected by plastic sheets or covered with dry grass, till they sold and moved by trucks.

Coffee Plantation

On the volcanic soil, coffee grows better and is tastier than where else, they say. So, i visit a coffee plantation near Kisoro to proof it. The friendly people here explain the entire process from the seedlings to green beans to the ripe red ones, from harvest to the inner beans and drying process, from stamping off the skin to roasting over the fire. But best of all, the coffee tasting at the end. For the next weeks i know exactly where my coffee was grown.

Hike Trough Border Villages

Early morning a young guy approached me. He offered tours. Despite my plans to travel further, i got convinced to spend a day longer in this area. Julius, the young tour guide, promised me, not only to guide me for an hike along the Congo border, but also showing me authentic village life, where he’s born. I didn’t regret my decision. Trough villages and over farmland, he brought me to a cave, climbed up an hill with craters, where every inch is used as agriculture land, introduced me with school and showed me the spring, where village people get their drinking water. On this hike, i got the whole lot impression of country life in Uganda.

Pygmy Village

The pygmy people, they call themselves Batwa, used to live in the forest, where they survived as hunters and gatherers. As the forests became national parks, the Batwa got relocated without access to new hunting and collecting areas. Lost in a strange environment, many became addicted to alcohol and start with begging too. They get abused as cheap labour, survive from the leftovers of other ones or get some income from dancing and performing for tourists.

Neza, who works for an organization, which takes care for the Batwa communities, explained me the difficulties of their life. I got interested to see the real life of these people rather than visiting a tourist performance. I’m invited to join a meeting, but was expected not to come barehanded, since the Batwa rely on food and goods coming from outside. A 25 kilo bag of maize flour was my ticket to the community. But first i met a few people in the office of the organization UOBDU and got introduced to several people, as a lawyer, accountant, shop keeper of the souvenirs and the head of organization. With her i had a longer talk and learned more about the misery of the Batwa people. In short; the government neglect the Batwa, the local people don’t care, but abuse them as cheap labour and many Batwa refuse to work at all, since their culture were hunting and gathering, what is now forbidden to them. UOBDU is trying to reduce the suffering and bring them education, it got explained to me. What’s the goal for the future, i asked. Good question, was the thoughtfully reply, but still lacking the answer.

A new dirt road leads up to mountains, passing many small villages and little farms. Here in the valleys lives the Batwa in neighborhood with Hutus and Tutsis, i learned. But it seems they don’t help each other out. We arrived a tiny farm. Now we had to wait till the word spread in the neighborhood, that the members of the organization arrived. Everyone who joins the meeting had to put the name on a list and either gives a signature or a fingerprint. Then started a three hour teaching with loud words, many gestures, big laughters and role play. The topics, as i learned later, were about violence between neighbors and within family, the right of education for children and young marriages. At the end of the meeting the people gathered around the vehicle of UOBDU. Everyone who attended and signed the list for the meeting got a soap bar and some food. What was the real motivation for people to join the meeting, and will be a constantly flow of donations from foreign organizations the real future of those people? i asked myself when i passed the majestic volcano behind Lake Kayumbu.

Hike Around Lushoto

The Usambara mountains offers stunning views from their cliffs. Definitely a must for a hike or two. But also the small villages along the edges are worth a visit. Here some photo impressions…

Bagamoyo – Fishermen At Beach

It was quite late when i arrived my camp in Bagamoyo. I grabbed my Nikon and went to nearby beach. To my surprise it was pretty busy there. Teenager played football or jumped in acrobatic style in the sand, bicycles and tricycles went around, a young, blonde teenager climbed a palm tree and collected coconuts. The main activities were the returning fishermen, who sold their catch right at the beach. Surrounded by a crowd, the men sold the catch of the day in bundles to the best offer. Right at the beach, the fishes were cleaned and carried home for fresh dinner.

Zanzibar – Jambiani People

The biggest surprise was the openness of the village people. Despite all the tourism on the beach, the village just back of it, seems hardly to see any foreigners. Old people greeting friendly, while kids waving and shouting enthusiastically to me. Some small kids were even so afraid of a strange looking white man they started to cry. But mostly i got a open smile in my camera and laughters after they’ve seen their faces in the screen. If someone would ask me about the most beautiful spots on Zanzibar, i’d response in the smiling faces of the  village people.

Doors of Stone Town

The influence of the trade route from Arabia and India is also visible on the many ancient doors of Stone Town.