From Addis, we caught a flight to
Nairobi, Kenya. Lydia and Julia pulled the lucky tickets to sit at the
emergency exit row, and were asked to move, so that they could switch with
“someone more qualified to operate the door.”
In other words, they were too small.
Other than that, the flight went without a hitch. My biggest issue was that my seat back
decided that it was happy where it was and nothing could move it, despite the emergency
exit row being directly behind me, giving the people in the next row extra leg
room anyway.
In any event, we landed in Nairobi and relaxed in the plane while it was
refueled and new passengers got on.
Luckily for us, about seven people got on, leaving a great deal of room
for everyone. I know Ginger took an
entire row to herself; I sat in the seat right next to the emergency exit so
that I would have leg room and a window. The leg room did wonders; I fell
asleep as soon as we were in the air. I awoke to the left side of my body
chilled beyond belief. Cold air from outside the plane was leaking
through the emergency door, and I was very uncomfortable. I had no time
to move away before the fasten seat belt light came on and I was stuck in that
seat.
After we
landed, I found that Ginger, Lydia, Julia, Chris (Champion, the Beam one is
Christopher for our purposes), Kim, Vickie, and Lizzie all awoke with a jolt
when the plane hit, not touched, the ground. I've been hearing about that
landing from them since.
Because I
was not expecting to fall asleep, my rude awakening at the hands of low
temperature put me in a bit of a sour mood. I realized it, though, and
once we finished filling out our cards about who we are and why we want entry
to Burundi, I kicked myself back into gear and helped get our twenty-three
suitcases onto carts to bring to our transportation to the Swedish Guest House,
where we're staying for the first two nights and our last night in
Burundi. The driving rules here are crazy, but they make perfect
sense. Everything has its proper place. If it's not in its place,
it gets honked at. It's that simple.
Today has been a very
full day, and it's still not over. First thing in my morning, not
necessarily everyone else's, the two present Willettses decided to go take a
closer look at a pair of pet monkeys tied to a tree a few hundred yards from
our rooms. From what I've heard, I was still asleep, they loved J.D. They
were tossing seeds to them, and one monkey was quite friendly. J.D. held
out a handful of seeds, and one came out of the tree to grab a handful and
climb back up. The second came over from the ground and, while he ate
none, felt J.D's arm and hugged it, then ran off. Lydia saw that they
seemed friendly enough and took some seed to give it a try. She held out
her hand, he gave the seed some interested sniffs. He must have smelled
something good, because he took her wrist and bit down on her hand. In
the words of J.D, "[Lydia] squealed, [the monkey] squealed, and everyone
got worked up." On our way to spot some hippos at Lake Tanganyika,
we stopped at the local hospital for Lydia to get some just-in-case shots and
her bite wound cleaned.
For a snack at the
"yacht club," where we watched for hippos, David brought us plates of
fried whole minnows with lime, tomato, and onions. We all enjoyed them
greatly, except, of course, for Kim, who despises the very notion of eating
anything that previously lived in water, no matter how fried. As we got
up to leave, David spotted a hippo, so we all rushed back to watch the hippo
and finish our snack. It was then that Gagnam Style came on.
Ginger, Lizzie, and even Kim danced to it. The workers at the club were so
entertained that they played the song two more times. The second time it
played, J.D. joined in.
After the
lake, we went to see the site where Livingston met Stanley. It's a
beautiful precipice overlooking the plain upon which sits Bujumbura, the
capital of Burundi. To the west, or left
if you’re facing Buja, is Lake Tanganyika.
Directly to the south, between the sheer cliff and Buja, runs a
river. Because the rainy season was
over, the river was very low, but it was apparent that it floods during the wet
season. To the east were huge, gorgeous
mountains that rose up suddenly out of the plain. The rock was interesting. It was, as Christopher complained on the way
there, just a rock (he’d been there before), but the vista was well worth the
drive.
After a quick lunch and rest, we went to a “museum,” which turned out to
be more of a zoo. Our guide told us
about three crocodiles on display and the differences between them and then
took us to a cage housing a lone chimpanzee.
J.D. had clearly not gotten his primate fill for the day, because he
excitedly shook hands and high-fived her.
Our guide told us that she was depressed recently after her family died
of disease. The actual museum portion
was a replica of pre-colonial Burundian housing. After the tour of the grass huts, we passed a
crocodile being fed. We, of course, crowded around the cage to see it chomping
around a still-moving unidentifiable rodent.
The next cage over was the one where people were getting pictures taken
holding the tail of a live crocodile.
Except for Gretchen, Christopher, and Kim, we all got our pictures taken
holding its tail. One of us was even
photographed fleeing in terror after the crocodile decided to flick its
tail. I’ll not name names, but I will
say that while she had it, she held the tail quite gingerly. We then went to the house of snakes. Lydia, ever adventurous even after squaring
off with a monkey, held a few, along with the rest of us. On our way out, J.D. had another tangle with
the chimp, who refused to let go of his arms.
From the zooseum, we went to the THARS office in Buja to use the wifi,
and then to David and Felicite’s house for dinner. They showed us around their gardens and
rabbit cages. They were not, mind you,
pet rabbits.
A link to J.D’s blog for a decidedly
different take on things: www.psychopastor.com
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