MeraNeza

On Saturday morning, we reunited with the beautiful Judy and Marie-Eve, two 5^th year medical students at the University of Rwanda in Kigali.  We met them several weeks ago through a friend of a friend of a doctor and instantly fell in love.  While both are Rwanda, Marie grew up in the Congo (Goma!) where her family still lives.  Judy was part of Medical Students for Choice, the same group that we have at Rush and we all bonded over conversations about the need for safe, legal abortions in Rwanda (and the States!).  It is currently illegal to perform an abortion in Rwanda and as such, during her rotation at the Kigali teaching hospital (CHUK), she saw a saddening array of complications and outcomes due to women trying to perform their own abortions.  

Needless to say, they are both amazing, inspiring women! 

Therefore, we decided to attempt a second summit of Mount Kigali, this time aiming for the fabled outlook of Mera Neza, which apparently translates into “Be good!” in Kinyarwanda.  The hike was exponentially faster than last time, with us reaching the pine tree ridden outlook of Mera Neza in less than 25 minutes.  Aside from the more direct route and fact that Judy and Marie could ask for directions, we are also beast of hikers. :)

Here are some videos from the hike and our adventures:  

DRC

or...as it's known in Rwanda: the Congo.

Despite what I'm sure are wise U.S. travel warnings, a few friends and I marched our way into the Democractic Republic of the Congo (DRC) and up the top of an active volcano.  It was called Nyiragongo Volcano and it was located at the southern edge of Virguna National Park (for a phenomenal documentary by the name of "Virunga", check your brother's pilfered Netflix account.)  After a night in Gisenyi, we stampeded our way to the Congolese border, cold weather gear in tow.  After 4 lines and 2 hours, including many people shoving their way in front of us, we paraded into the Virunga National Park office in Goma to grab our park receipt and snag (a very expensive ride) to the park.  

Jostling along the civil-war beaten streets to Kibati, we took in the lava-darkened, impoverished landscape.  With a volcanic eruption that covered half of Goma in 2002 and rebel fighting that spurred the UN to construct a military base there in 2012, the Congo's unrest remains resound and palpable.  

One indicator?  I didn't see a single metal bicycle but, instead, plenty of large wooden bicycle-like contraptions that functioned as both a method of transport for people and kilos of goods.

You can see the wooden bike in the bottom right corner.

Our hike to the top of Nyiragongo took about about 5 hours and was accompanied by a slew of porters and park rangers welding AK-47's.  Classy!  

The landscape transformed from jungle forest to pine trees to rocky terrain as we followed switchback after switchback.  With plenty of rest time and a reasonably fashioned path, the hike wasn't too bad.  At 3,470 m, we reached our goal (selfies in front of lava!) and proceeded to document the night with Iphones and my crappy digital camera.  After sipping on a lukewarm Tusker as a reward, I stared for hours at the kaleidoscope of molten lava as conversation tinged with Irish, Chinese, French and American accents filtered through my ears. 






As the sun ducked behind the Western edge of the crater, the sparkling red lava shown up from the hole in the very center of the crater accompanied by somewhat disconcerting "pops!" and "cracks!" as the volcano churned beneath our feet.  We heated up our stashed of food over a charcoal stove, roasted some rouge marshmallows and curled ourselves into balls of heat as we slept at the edge.  It was glorious!  Albeit freezing cold...

For the YouTube playlist on our adventures up the volcano, you can watch my completely ameteur videos here.

Another exciting fact (for me!) was that I could finally use my ancient Swahili to a fuller extent.  While Congolese Swahili is heavily mixed with French and the time-tested Tanzanian saying like "digging for medicine" for going pee in a bush were non-applicable, I was ecstatic to pick up phrases and eaves drop on conversations again.  The Congolese are louder and rowdier than their Rwandan counterparts as well. 

Till next time!

Climbing Mt. Kigali

On Sunday, Lizzy and I decided to be explorative.  We set our sights on climbing to the top of Mt. Kigali, a pretty little bump in the wavy landscape surrounding Kigali town.  Seen here in the background from our clinic, it was about a 20 minute bus ride from the bus station in the middle of town, Mimoji, which is about a 30 minute walk from our house.  After hopping off somewhere close to the base of the mountain, we began winding our way through narrowing streets, eventually walking next houses (or sometimes into them).  Children would wander after us and peter off after a few minutes.  Eventually a teenage girl jokingly offered us some of the corn that she was eating and, sticking my hand into her yard, happily accepted it.  Munching and meandering, we made our way up and up and up.  After about 45 minutes of attempting to find a path to the forest that topped the mountain, we came across a promising one.  Barely visible but still frequently trodden, we crunched our way through the leaf-covered ground, sliding backwards on the tiny rocks and layers of leaves. 

View just after passing by the last of the houses.

 As we climbed, the herd of children and teens following us morphed into only two boys (11 and 12 years old) and one kid named Erik (22 years old).  Between our blind intuition and the three of them, we pieced together a path to the peak.  As the top, we crossed a dirt road, passing by some guys leaned against tree trunks and another chatting it up on his phone.  After 50 meters, the forest opened up into a vast, cascading plain allowing glimpses of the mountains that sprung up between the road to Gisenyi in the West.  Barely visible along the skyline was a double peaked mountain that contained a volcano in Virunga National Park in the DRC.  We relaxed, shared some biscuits and took some jumping photos.  We are wazungu after all!

The hike down took about an hour and was punctuated by Lizzy's first taste of sugar cane.  We bought a whole branch for 100Rfr (15 cents) and gave some to the boys, Erik, and one of his friends that passed by.  The mama selling it laughed as we attempted to eat the sugar cane as readily of our Rwandan company and agreed to take a photo with these highly  incompetent wazungu.

The day ended with us exhausted, a bit sunburnt and hopping on motos as we waved goodbye to our new friends and sped home for water and libations.  

Worthwhile random adventure!