Kazinga

2^nd of February, 2018.

The trip to Kazinga already started wrong, in the night before, with the guys kind of fighting about something.

We suppose to wake up at seven, leave the house at eight, and reach Kazinga at nine because then we would have enough time to not rush and see at least two sights. But I am the first one to get up at 7.20 a.m.; we reach Kasese at nine; we have to wait for the breakfast until after 10 o’clock; and we only reach Kazinga probably after 12 o’clock. I am already pissed off. We already have spent a lot of money just with breakfast and transport.

Once in there, everything goes different from the simple plan K. had explained to us before. We should walk around a little, talk with some fishermen and try to get a ride in one boat to see some hippos and crocodiles. But there is a huge “organization” (more like a scheme, really) between the tourist guides and the fishermen (who could not answer to us without accepting their orders). So they are charging us a fortune for just one hour ride in a boat. If it wasn’t for us, this same boat would stay at the harbor the whole day, doing nothing, if it was not for us.

The guys get hungry soon so we walk to a restaurant, not before buying some bread, thinking of a future snack. At the restaurant, the prices are similar to those in a hotel in Kasese, so the guys just get some Pocho, Matoke and rice with beans. Funny thing happened with the beer they ordered. They would share a bottle, so the waitress supposedly should bring a glass. But according to her, the owner is a Muslin man, who does not want people drinking beer in the glasses. What? Yeah. It was OK selling the beer but using his glasses to drink, no. Luckily, she told us that before opening the bottle, so the guys simply said they would not take it. Now the problem was another: because they buy the bottles from another place (What?), meaning they do not have their own storage of beer (maybe because they are Muslins), so they could not simply “put it back”. They could keep it and wait until a next costumer come and order a beer, but no. After a couple of minutes, we had our glass.

D. and I are not accepting to pay but K. says he would pay and that is it. We take the boat. The first group of hippos we find it is more apprehensive because they have a baby with them, so we do not get that close. But within the second one, maybe just adults, they are showing up and do not care about us, so we get kind of close and they are coming out of the water. We get some good photos! The fishermen say that usually the lions come in that area to drink some water. Of course I wish we could stay and wait for them but unfortunately we could not: the fishermen could not leave us over there alone and pick up us later because it would be too danger (I still do not know what they would be able to do that we would not! Maybe everyone just run into the boat and we leave) but if they had stayed, they would charge more. So after over an hour we come back. 

K. wants to go back home. I am not happy at all coming here just for that. I mean, I loved the hippos but definitely it was too much money. There is another option, another village with some salt mines. We see a truck coming and decide to do hitchhiking. The guy stops and he is going until where we need. Inside the truck we talk and the place supposed to be in the middle of the way to Kasese. The guys planned about how much time we would spend and around what time should we come back home. But then, the truck driver suddenly has to stop and would have to wait for a long time for someone. There we go, back to the beginning again. I buy some peanuts while K. talk with the guys from the buses. In the end, would be too expensive to get in there. So let’s just come back to Kasese and have some beers.

We have three Niles each. If we were not drinking here, at the Ururu 50 Hotel, and had simply bought the beers in a shop and brought back home to drink, as I suggested, we could’ve saved 4000 Francs. With that money, we could pay for our rides back home. But the guys want a place to chill.

As usual, we have our deep conversations about some important topics. This time it is about money. To sum up, my point is: the money we invest in space research (billions of Dollars), should be simply used to help and feed every single human being in the planet, who are dying now for lack of food. Instead of hoping to find answers and solutions out there (if that’s really true), we should focus on fixing the problems we can here and now; I believe if we blow up the whole monetary system, something good could come out of that; and I never will accept or get it why there are some millionaire (and beyond) people, while so many have simply nothing. They both are against every one of those theories and D. keeps saying that some of those millionaires are investing in some good sustainable projects and help a lot of people. And because of that they can keep their fortunes remained? So, if you are a millionaire, and uses 2% of your fortune to “help” others, is OK to keep eating gold while there are still millions of people leaving in misery?

In the end we are already kind of drunk and I remember getting upset with D. (and now remembered again, even more) when he asks me, in an accusing tone, what was I doing to help the people and the planet, because he was running his Eco Project. I do not remember exactly what I answered but I know it was not a good answer. I have some ones now: I am helping him with his project; my plans are to keep on doing volunteer work, which is a way to help those people who cannot afford employers, helpers or teachers or whatever, and also keeps me out of the monetary system; maybe it is not that much, but comparing with what I have in life right now (almost nothing) it is a lot. I can put my head on the pillow at night and sleep very well and not feel guilty for having millions in a bank accountant (which I don’t even have), while so many people in the world are dying of hunger in that same night.

When we get home, they just pack their stuff and leave. Now I do not know if I dreamed or if it was for real that I heard D. yelling while they were leaving: “Goodbye, Lei! We love you!”