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Just a quickie message to y’all… (even before I post the back blogs from Uganda!)

TUNE IN to CFUN (1410 am dial) Radio this Sunday, August 24th at 4pm to hear an interview with yours truly on Vancouver’s latest travel radio show.

I’m now off to beautiful British Columbia mountain biking and will update blogs upon my return.

Fiona
Babe With A Backpack

After a rather arduous journey from Vancouver to Kampala, I’m finally here. It involved a bit of bribery (in Seattle of all places) to cut a line at the airport, and then a lengthy layover in Amsterdam (but refreshed with an airport shower) followed by a slight hassle checking into the hostel, but I made it! I’m so relieved as it feels like this trip has been in the planning stages forever and a day. So now I sit at the Kampala Backpackers, checking my Facebook messages like a true addict whilst trying to map out my bus journeys for the days ahead. I’m in heaven.

And to top it off, it’s my birthday today. Another year wiser (??) and still getting by trying to experience everything life has to offer.

Yesterday I joined Brits Laura and Fiona for an amble up to the Namirembe Cathedral. We were given a tour from a local young man, working towards becoming a priest. He rolled off endless names and dates of the martyrs and colonials that contributed to the history of the area. It certainly was not the type of tour I was expecting immediately upon arrival, but I thoroughly enjoyed it nonetheless.

We followed this excursion by jumping into a private hire taxi to Nsambua Hospital to visit a sister in a convent that Fiona had worked with years previously (when teaching English). Being my first time in a convent, I was careful of what I said. Even though sisters do live normal lives I felt very on guard as the last thing I wanted to do was offend a woman so dedicated to helping others. We walked past a traditional fire cooking the staple food for Ugandans, matoke (plantains) and the sweet smell was intoxicating.

The convent had many large rooms branching off the tiled corridors. Lights remained off as electricity is a valuable commodity in many areas of Uganda. The room we sat in to enjoy our fresh passion juice had eight sofas with stiff velour cushions, placed beneath portraits of popes and bishops, old and new. Once the window shutters were opened, the view of the gardens was hard to ignore.

“Oh God, it’s so beautiful” I said. Immediately I felt as though I had used his name too casually, but luckily nobody seemed to notice. The sisters kept streaming into the room to greet us with intense smiles. Sometimes it was quite hard to follow their strongly accented English, but a smile and a nod always seemed to be a good response.

Following our ‘afternoon tea’, we walked over to a school to visit a former student of Fiona’s. Even though it was the early evening, students were still buzzing around the grounds in their blue uniforms with books under their arms. The dedication to education was overwhelming. Seen as their chance for a better life, these youngsters work hard and aim high. When I asked Fiona’s student was she wanted to be after all of her studies, she replied in a very nonchalent manner,

“Oh, just a neurosurgeon.” Gulp. When I was 15, all I could think about was working at a coffee shop! She then told us more about her day, and how tired she was as she had got up at 3:15 am to continue reviewing for an exam she had scheduled at 6am. Can you imagine?

So my introduction to Uganda is far from what I expected. I am laying low at the Backpackers hostel, watching the monkeys eyeing up my lunch, as I work with the locals trying to get a permit to view the gorillas in a few days. It’s a very slow pace, of which, I m slowly adapting to. Afterall, I’m a year older today…must take it slow.

Fiona

PS-I’m having some problems adding photos but I’ll keep trying-come back later!

So here it is folks…I’m actually jumping back into the cyber world. When I first began blog writing, I was living out of a backpack and discovering my passion for writing, for travelling and for life outside of my normal routines. Launching into stories about scam artists in Chile or drinking fresh coconut milk was easy. It entertained me and it entertained my readers. But upon moving back home to Vancouver, I held back on the blogs thinking I had nothing to amuse people with. Could I really find something to write about in my new routine, settled-life in Canada? The fact that I’ve moved into my mothers’ basement, I’ve gone back to university and working a retail job…isn’t that boring?

Well, the ‘Babe with a Backpack’ can never be boring. I just needed some time to regroup. So here I am. If people can write blogs about why they enjoy picking their nose so much, than I can comment on how overwhelming I’ve found Vancouverites obsession with yoga (don’t get me wrong though—I’m all for it!).

There are many things about life in Canada that took me by surprise when I first moved back. For starters, the politeness of most bus passengers, the notorious ‘eh’ sentence endings and the natural beauty of my city… even during the rainy days. But as I have now been here for 21 months, my perceptions really have nothing to do with Vancouver, but with friendships.

The friendships that travellers develop when living on the road, are quick. You meet the people sharing your hostel room or signed up for the same safari, and the next thing you know, you’re inseparable. You’ve shown your true character because you’re having fun discovering new perspectives, and you’re able to share the exhilaration with your new mate. The significance of the friendship becomes equivalant to a friendship developed over years of knowing one another, even though it’s been only a few days.

It’s quite often the same with relationships on the road. Although I never found love, I met many couples in various stages of their union. This is how they tend to breakdown:

Monday=Introduction. Met in the hostel kitchen. He ran out of milk for his breakfast cereal and secretly took some of hers. Then he noticed how cute she was and asked to borrow some milk…for his second bowl of cereal.

Tuesday=Romance. Past the questions of where you’ve been and where you’re going, they discover they have so much in common (they both miss spaghetti bolognaise and life back home)