From dusk till dawn, adventure with the fellowship
Blijf op de hoogte en volg Edwin
06 Mei 2015 | Oeganda, Tisai Island
Today I find myself, like many mornings here, waking up before my alarm, when the rooster shouts and the birds chirp behind my window that the sun has come. I roll over one more time until I get up to start the adventure of the day. We will visit an island called Tisai, amidst the big Bisina lake (according to the locals a small lake). Once a month our group embarks on this mission to resupply the people there with antimalaria and anti HIV drugs, as well as providing malaria and HIV testing, education and counselling. The day became a true adventure with obstacles, boat-race, motorcycle chase through the wilderness, wild animals, sunburn, fear of abandonment, and a happy home coming.
Upon my arrival at the hospital, our departure point, the vehicle engine broke down. Someone got spare parts in the closest shop 6km away, and we continue our way to the shore of Bisina Lake. Arriving there, delayed, our colleagues with 2 motorbikes were awaiting our arrival in a swamp-like area, and we struggle on to reach the ferry. Hearing the word ‘ferry’ and occasional cows being transferred, I imagined a semi-big rectangular boat, or maybe just a square floating ferry like Bucklebury ferry from the Lord of the Rings, perhaps even being pulled by a rope. To my surprise our ferry acquired the shape of 2 canoes. As we arrive the second obstacle arises: the motor for the canoe has to be collected from the nearby village. We load the first boat with people, after which it is being pushed like a gondola in Venice towards and through the lake. An hour later we load the second boat, now motorized, with our motorbikes, pharmacy box, some colleagues and me and it is navigated through the swamp onto the lake. At this time we start the motor and we whoosh off through the water, like a true speedboat, at the same time the clouds make way for the sun and I decide to smear sunprotection, unfortunately my tender Muzungu skin was already burned without noticing.
As we arrive on the island, our fellowship splits in two. The first part will work ashore, the second part consists of 3 colleagues and me and we hop onto the 2 motorbikes (yes, 3 people on 1 motorbike, and 2 on the other) along with our share of the pharmacy box. We speed off into the bushbush. The other bike already disappeared behind the thick green bushes and trees, and we chase them on tiny dirtroads, evading trees, thorned bushes, and the occasional cow. Birds fly away from bushes as we pass them with our roaring bikes. We race through the swamp-like island and several times get stuck where the dirtroads are covered with water. We push ourselves onto more solid ground, as I hold on to the pharmacy box and the rear of the bike, and finally arrive to the village (10-15 traditional houses, walls with mud, cow dong, and wood) and its central big shadow-producing tree. I can’t imagine how to get here or away from here when the rain would start, let’s hope (or pray) the rainclouds will leave us alone. Setting up, I notice the kids around probably haven’t encountered a wild Muzungu before. They stare at me with big eyes, and occasionally poke my skin. A small girl comes to me and holds my hand, she points at my backpack and asks in Ateso ‘uncle, uncle…. What is that?’. It’s nice to see not every child is scared for my appearance. More and more kids draw closer to hold my hand, I pet a few on their heads, then sit down with my colleagues at our tables.
My colleague starts with a small introduction in Ateso and English, and quickly we continue registering the people, pricking their fingers for blood, testing for malaria and HIV, and explaining the results separated and individually afterwards as well as giving treatment. An estimated 75% of the children has malaria here, it’s quite confronting. My little Ateso is appreciated as they reply me with smiles when I take the bloodsamples and say ‘yoga paran, biaibo ijo? Mame epipil?’(good day, how are you? No pain?). When I reach number 25 I look behind me and see a horizon full of grey clouds coming awfully closer. We speed up as I feel a few raindrops, I ask my colleagues when we will leave, thinking about the dirtroads and the likely scenario of getting stuck when the rain comes pouring down. The clouds are now above us and the sound of thunder increases our workspeed, I notice how calmly the villagers stay. The clouds move along, rumbling, and we can finish the work with number 44 without rainfall.
I receive a guided tour, make many pictures, learn how they catch and smoke their fish, and even see a freshly caught mudfish (roughly 1.5m still wiggling carnivorous fish). My colleagues buy some fish, and we rush off. By now the sun is setting, and soon the dirtroads will not be visible anymore. We manage to speed through the bushes, grass, swamp and find our way to the shore.
While the sunset is reflected in the water of the swamp and lake, we find ourselves deprived of our companions and motorized boat. It seems they left without us, I feel like in a movie. Then the boat reappears and I feel somehow relieved. As would be in a movie, the boat had run out of fuel, and without, it can’t take us and the motorbikes back. By now darkness is setting, mosquitos are attacking, and more grey clouds surround us from all sides, with lightning in the distance . The boatman leaves us for 30min to get fuel, when he returns we quickly set off, navigate our way through the swamp and lake in darkness, with occasional fireflies passing by and lightning flashes in the horizon. We get stuck halfway, push the boat manually along, and get ashore safely. We continue through the swamp by motorbike, getting stuck, pushing the bike, and find on the land our companions and car as a welcoming committee. I send a message to the guesthouse that I’m late for dinner but safely on my way after today’s adventure, and I step in the car, ready to go ‘home’.
Upon my arrival at the hospital, our departure point, the vehicle engine broke down. Someone got spare parts in the closest shop 6km away, and we continue our way to the shore of Bisina Lake. Arriving there, delayed, our colleagues with 2 motorbikes were awaiting our arrival in a swamp-like area, and we struggle on to reach the ferry. Hearing the word ‘ferry’ and occasional cows being transferred, I imagined a semi-big rectangular boat, or maybe just a square floating ferry like Bucklebury ferry from the Lord of the Rings, perhaps even being pulled by a rope. To my surprise our ferry acquired the shape of 2 canoes. As we arrive the second obstacle arises: the motor for the canoe has to be collected from the nearby village. We load the first boat with people, after which it is being pushed like a gondola in Venice towards and through the lake. An hour later we load the second boat, now motorized, with our motorbikes, pharmacy box, some colleagues and me and it is navigated through the swamp onto the lake. At this time we start the motor and we whoosh off through the water, like a true speedboat, at the same time the clouds make way for the sun and I decide to smear sunprotection, unfortunately my tender Muzungu skin was already burned without noticing.
As we arrive on the island, our fellowship splits in two. The first part will work ashore, the second part consists of 3 colleagues and me and we hop onto the 2 motorbikes (yes, 3 people on 1 motorbike, and 2 on the other) along with our share of the pharmacy box. We speed off into the bushbush. The other bike already disappeared behind the thick green bushes and trees, and we chase them on tiny dirtroads, evading trees, thorned bushes, and the occasional cow. Birds fly away from bushes as we pass them with our roaring bikes. We race through the swamp-like island and several times get stuck where the dirtroads are covered with water. We push ourselves onto more solid ground, as I hold on to the pharmacy box and the rear of the bike, and finally arrive to the village (10-15 traditional houses, walls with mud, cow dong, and wood) and its central big shadow-producing tree. I can’t imagine how to get here or away from here when the rain would start, let’s hope (or pray) the rainclouds will leave us alone. Setting up, I notice the kids around probably haven’t encountered a wild Muzungu before. They stare at me with big eyes, and occasionally poke my skin. A small girl comes to me and holds my hand, she points at my backpack and asks in Ateso ‘uncle, uncle…. What is that?’. It’s nice to see not every child is scared for my appearance. More and more kids draw closer to hold my hand, I pet a few on their heads, then sit down with my colleagues at our tables.
My colleague starts with a small introduction in Ateso and English, and quickly we continue registering the people, pricking their fingers for blood, testing for malaria and HIV, and explaining the results separated and individually afterwards as well as giving treatment. An estimated 75% of the children has malaria here, it’s quite confronting. My little Ateso is appreciated as they reply me with smiles when I take the bloodsamples and say ‘yoga paran, biaibo ijo? Mame epipil?’(good day, how are you? No pain?). When I reach number 25 I look behind me and see a horizon full of grey clouds coming awfully closer. We speed up as I feel a few raindrops, I ask my colleagues when we will leave, thinking about the dirtroads and the likely scenario of getting stuck when the rain comes pouring down. The clouds are now above us and the sound of thunder increases our workspeed, I notice how calmly the villagers stay. The clouds move along, rumbling, and we can finish the work with number 44 without rainfall.
I receive a guided tour, make many pictures, learn how they catch and smoke their fish, and even see a freshly caught mudfish (roughly 1.5m still wiggling carnivorous fish). My colleagues buy some fish, and we rush off. By now the sun is setting, and soon the dirtroads will not be visible anymore. We manage to speed through the bushes, grass, swamp and find our way to the shore.
While the sunset is reflected in the water of the swamp and lake, we find ourselves deprived of our companions and motorized boat. It seems they left without us, I feel like in a movie. Then the boat reappears and I feel somehow relieved. As would be in a movie, the boat had run out of fuel, and without, it can’t take us and the motorbikes back. By now darkness is setting, mosquitos are attacking, and more grey clouds surround us from all sides, with lightning in the distance . The boatman leaves us for 30min to get fuel, when he returns we quickly set off, navigate our way through the swamp and lake in darkness, with occasional fireflies passing by and lightning flashes in the horizon. We get stuck halfway, push the boat manually along, and get ashore safely. We continue through the swamp by motorbike, getting stuck, pushing the bike, and find on the land our companions and car as a welcoming committee. I send a message to the guesthouse that I’m late for dinner but safely on my way after today’s adventure, and I step in the car, ready to go ‘home’.
-
18 Mei 2015 - 20:04
Fokko En Wietske:
poeh poeh welk een avontuur, maar wel alles foorstaan en een ervaring rijker.
Nederland is hierbij aardig rustig en minder abontuurlijk/uitdagend.
groeten vanuit het vlakke land hier, zie uit naar je volgende verslag
-
19 Mei 2015 - 14:22
Wim De Vrij:
Wat heb jij je avontuur mooi beschreven. Ik zie het helemaal voor me hoe het is gegaan. Mooie foto's. Vooral foto nummer 6 vind ik prachtig.(foto van zijkant boot met voorbij razende waterlelies - on the lake to Tisai island) Vorige week heb ik enkele foto's genomen van het uitgestrekte buitendijks gebied met hier en daar een Colombiaans accent. Ook erg fraai. En natuurlijk beleven wij hier in Nederland ook allerlei spannende avonturen: Zou de bus wel op tijd komen? Krijg ik mijn lekke autoband wel verwisseld? Nee, nu even serieus. Vorige week samen met Susana een woning bekeken. Zeer geschikt voor jullie. Nu een week wachten op een telefoontje van de verhuurder om te horen of hij met jullie in zee wil. Eergisteren de verjaardag van Yinthe gevierd. Toen de voordeur in Heeten werd opgedaan zei Yinthe direct: "Ik ben jarig". Ze stak onmiddellijk 3 vingers omhoog om aan te geven hoeveel prille jaren zij inmiddels ons leven verrijkt. Toen konden we binnenstappen en begon een gezellige ochtend.
Deze week weer lekker aan het werk en dan hebben we al weer een lang (Pinkster)weekend vrij.
Wat is het leven toch mooi! -
24 Mei 2015 - 16:51
Gerrit De Vrij:
Het is hartstikke leuk om jouw verslagen te lezen. (Waar heb je trouwens zo goed Engels leren schrijven en spreken?) Zo kunnen we je aardig volgen en meegenieten van je avonturen en het (medisch) leerproces wat je doormaakt. Wij houden ondertussen ons hier onledig met het lezen van de krant, boodschappen doen en wachten tot het echt mooi weer wordt.
Je kunt je ongetwijfeld herinneren van je broer die je voorging op wereldreis, dat, toen hij wat overmoedig werd en dacht dat ie wel alles kon hebben en eten zo langzamerhand, ontzettend ziek werd. Dat ga jij natuurlijk niet doen.
Het verbaast mij toch wel dat je al zoveel medische ingrepen min of meer zelfstandig mag uitvoeren en zoveel assistentie mag en kunt verlenen.
Wij zijn 7 mei op de verjaardag van oom Gerard geweest in het revalidatiecentrum Innersdijk in Ten Boer: hele familie was er inclusief zijn 2 kinderen en 2 buren. Het bleek voor ons eergisteren wel een dure verjaardag te zijn geworden, want 2 bekeuringen binnen voor te hard rijden (heen- en terugweg bij Ten Boer: je mag daar maar 60 en ik dacht 80.
Daar zullen jullie minder last van hebben, denk ik; hoe zijn de wegen daar eigenlijk tussen de steden en dorpen.
We kijken uit naar je volgende stukje. Hou je goed en de groeten, ook van Ciska natuurlijk.
-
31 Mei 2015 - 10:03
Genaro:
Wow! Even when I am late in catching up reading (I will get there though), is a really nice detailed narration.
Looking back to that day, what do you think and how do you feel about it?
The firs impressions can be so strong and nice to look back. Did you eat the smoke fish? Does it taste like anything you try before?
It was also funny to find similitude with my own country, if something doesn't work, just fix it and keep going!
I didn't get one thing though, is the place totally isolated from the rest? How often they get supplies? Is it dependent from the hospital?
Lets see what other adventures we can read, luckily I still have material to catch up!
Reageer op dit reisverslag
Je kunt nu ook Smileys gebruiken. Via de toolbar, toetsenbord of door eerst : te typen en dan een woord bijvoorbeeld :smiley
