A Weekend at Sipi Falls

Since Leo has come along, it's not easy for Eric and I to find time to simply be together.  When we do have time, we tend to primarily focus on the tasks that have been neglected in favor of our son's needs.  So this year, for our 3rd anniversary, we packed up the car and took our first family vacation to Sipi Falls in Eastern Uganda.

I hadn't been to this place for several years and it was so lovely to spend the weekend here with nothing to do except be together.  Sipi Falls consists of three separate waterfalls on the side of Mount Elgon, bordering Kenya.  We explored the first two falls on a long hike and the last and greatest one, we gazed at as the sun set.  We were spoiled at Sipi River Lodge - by far the lodge with the most to offer - with great food, home-roasted and locally-grown coffee, a cozy cabin, a friendly guide, and exclusive access to the second waterfall roaring just outside our window.

This is truly a place of endless beauty and I am so grateful for the short time we were able to take advantage of this lush landscape.

This I know to be true

Pregnancy is known to draw women deeply within, to open her to all kinds of emotions and consciousness she didn't even know she had.  There was a day last December when I faced a deep and dark side of myself.  I wrote down what I could comprehend, and I just came across that writing in my journal.  I remember feeling so dark and heavy at the time, but now re-reading what I wrote, it seems hopeful and beautiful. I love how the dark and the light dance together.

This was me on December 20, 2014.  This was one point in my journey and in my own process of becoming.

20 December 2014

This I know to be true:
We are all connected.  All of humanity is intertwined with each other.  One cannot stand alone.  It is impossible  Everything we do, every action we take, every thought we have has both been affected by countless others and will affect countless others.

Even someone who has decided to live according to self-interest will soon see that the happiness of others directly affects his/her own happiness.  Our struggles as well as our joys are tied together, the world over.  In the end, my liberation, my joy is tied to that of every other being.  This I know to be true.

I don't know if there is a god or what the spiritual world is made of.  I don't know how much we humans have convinced ourselves of what we wish to believe.  I don't know if there is anything after this life or even if there is any purpose to our individual lives and to our collective existence.

I have questioned it all and I doubt all of the answers I have found.  I have felt the overwhelming darkness that comes with the shattering of all I wish to be true, and I have wanted to escape this world for a peaceful nothingness.

Most Truth eludes me.  I cannot grasp it and I will never know it.  But now, I know that even if our lives have no eternal meaning, even if the soul is a figment of our imagination, and even if purpose is laughable, our happiness is still tied together  Our enjoyment of life and our very humanity is bound as one.  What benefits the other benefits me in the end.

And I believe this binding of all of humanity to one another is the potential vessel of love.  If there is a god, God is this network that binds us.  We are bound either by love and goodness in each and every action and thought, or we are bound by hurt, by harm to each other, to the environment, to ourselves.  That love/goodness and that harm/hurt is what most people think of as God.  It is simply the network, the binds, the connections that tie us all to one another and is a conduit for energy to pass through - and that energy is helpful for harmful, sometimes a strange combination of both, and it flows continuously through this network, touching all things.  Every action affect more than we can imagine and eventually comes back to ourselves.

We are one.  We are connected.  In all ways.  This I know to be true.

Drying herbs

I've been away from my own home for so long this year and I missed making food from what I can grow on our small piece of land or buy fresh at the local markets. 

When i came back, my herb garden was definitely in need of some attention.  Some of my herbs had been crowded out by weeds, some had gotten spindly for lack of pruning, but others had absolutely exploded.  With these, it was the perfect opportunity to harvest a little crop and dry the herbs for future use.  There were other bundles of herbs I had hung to dry before I left and they were now finished and ready to use.

I simply cut off trimmings of my herbs, wash them thoroughly, tie the ends together with a rubber band, and hang them at the top of one of our cabinets, where it is cool and they get good air circulation.  When they are dry and brittle, I take the leaves off the stems, crush them into smaller pieces, and place them in containers until I need them in a recipe.

It's always a lovely feeling to cook with something I grew and processed myself, and drying herbs is such a simple way to do that.

Fresh thyme, rosemary, oregano, and lavender

Dried thyme, rosemary, oregano, and lavendar

Herbs hanging to dry

Dried oregano and sage

Sage bundle

P.S. My husband and I have an ongoing argument about how to pronounce "herb."  Is the "H" silent or not?

My DIY ordeal/adventure

“The difference between an adventure and an ordeal is attitude.”
— Bob Bitchin

Not long after we moved into our home, I attempted to get a cow skin rug and a cow skull as decor pieces.  This was not supposed to be a DIY project, but it certainly turned out to be one.  This post is probably not a helpful one if you're looking to DIY your own cow hide, but it is the story of an ordeal that, with a little humor, turned into an adventure and a couple of impromptu DIY projects that turned out to be "good enough."

It all started by taking Eric's cousin on a photo "safari" in Kampala, along the railroad tracks.  I had never explored the area and thought it would be a great excuse to take pictures of whatever could be there.  Soon, we ran into a flock of the very ugly maribu storks, known to be Kampala's trash eaters, and I wondered what brought them to this place.  After looking around a bit, we were pointed to the maribu storks' attraction - Kampala's slaughterhouse. 

Well, one thing led to another, as they often do, and soon I was promised that the next morning I could come by and pickup a cow skin and skull.  I thought it was a deal.  I thought my entryway would look great with a cow skin rug and I would surely find a cool place to hang a skull with the long, dramatic Ankole horns.  I thought I would swing by and pick up these items, shiny and neat and ready to adorn my home.

To make a long story short, there was nothing shiny or neat about my cow skin and skull the next morning.  I was told to follow my new butcher friend as we weaved our way through the various sections of the slaughterhouse and I was handed my very fresh, very raw pieces, right off the cow.  The skull had eyes, a tongue, and skin, all of which I convinced them to remove, and the hide had fat and blood still dripping from it.  It wasn't long before I was sitting on a boda boda, weaving through Kampala's streets while holding an enormous cow head, it horns straddling me, baffled at what just happened and clueless as to what to do with these fresh cow parts.

Picking out my own cow hide

 

The skin is in the yellow bag on the back and the cow skull...well...there it is.

 

When I reached home, I stared at my newly-purchased goods, wondering what I just got myself into.

Step one: Change my clothes, which were now covered in blood
Step two: Google

The first thing I discovered was I would have to act fast with the cow hide, or it would start rotting within a few hours.  At the very least, I needed to stretch the skin, cut off the fat, and pour salt all over it, so I lugged it around my yard, attempting to hang it, but it was so wet and heavy, I couldn't manage alone.  An hour or so later, I finally called the guy who sold it to me and asked him to come do the work.  Meanwhile, my method for cleaning up the skull simply involved letting my dogs have their way with it.

 

My attempt at hanging and stretching the hide.  Fail.

 

The stretched hide on our porch, with salt all over it.

The skull, after the dogs ate off the good stuff.

After a couple of days, we put the skull in an old latrine in our back yard, hoping the ground critters would do the rest of the work to clean it up.  It lay there, largely forgotten about, for about 2 years.

The next week, the hide was dry. It was hard and a little crisp - certainly not the nice tanned hide I had wanted, but it still looked nice in our entryway, so I called it good enough.

Just last week, we pulled the cow skull out from its forgotten hideaway and cleaned the dirt off with a brush, soap, and water.  It is by no means shiny and polished, but when placed beside our hippo skull and two impala skulls, it adds some intrigue to our home.  Again, I will settle for "good enough."

The day I picked up my animal parts turned out to be one of the more absurd days of my life in Uganda.  It definitely did not go as planned, but it did provide me the opportunity to learn something new and practice my pioneer woman skills.  I suppose I can now look back on the ordeal, laugh at myself, and call it an adventure.

A Photographic Ode to the Boda Boda

There are so many defining characteristics about Uganda, but one of the more quirky and unique elements of this great country is presence of the great boda boda.  These motorcycles-turned-taxis/uhauls swarm the cities and can be found in the deepest of villages.  Their drivers are known to have  eclectic fashion and to be a little over-persistent in attempting to get your business.  They may not be the safest transportation option, but bodas sure are handy when you're stuck in traffic or you need to cheaply move something from point A to point B.  Whether you love them or hate them, there is no doubt bodas will give you a good laugh when you spot one of their ridiculous loads putting down the road.

I've put together quite the collection of photos of over the years, documenting these absurdities.  One day the boda will be highly regulated and we will look back at these photos in nostalgia (or will we?)  So here it is - my photographic ode to the boda boda.

We go?

The common boda boda:

The stick shift boda:

The furniture carriers:

desk on a boda

Those that carry animals, both dead...

...and alive.

The ones with Very Big Loads:

Those used to commute to school...

...or work:

Those who laugh in the face of wind resistance:

 
 
 
 

The ones with impeccable balance:

 
 

The boda who will make some kids very happy:

The under-appreciated bicycle boda:

And finally, a couple of my own bodadventures:

What are some of your favorite boda moments or what are some of the craziest things you've spotted on the back of a boda?

Please keep in mind that all of these photos are copyrighted to Dani Walker Kreutter and it is illegal to reproduce them in any way without my permission.  Thank you.