Voyage of the Peace Corps: Across the Inland Sea

It was back when we were in the Corps, during the days of the rains. Rain for days, incessant, leaving our spirits exhausted and our feet caked in hard orange mud. We were tired of it all, the rain, the work, the cheap gin and shrieking children. the too-early mornings when the call to prayer blared us from our few hours of stolen sleep. Tired of the grueling lifestyle the government paid us for because it was cheaper for them than paying us welfare back home. We were were tired of it all. It was time for a change. Time for Uganda. So far away it seemed magical. The easy road, the road through Nairobi, was closed to travelers by the threat of the Al Shabab terrorists and our only choice was to navigate the far away lake region, and journey through Mwanza.

Mwanza! City of boulders. Where the sun beat down mercilessly on the rainbow colored lizards sunning themselves on the rocks. Mwanza, city of birds, the black kites, the pied kingfishers, the death birds, disported themselves above the glittering waters of the lake.

Egret

Black kite

Black kite in flight

kingfisher

not my photo, I couldn't ever get close enough.
These are Maribou storks, aka death birds.
These things are terrifying.

That beautiful lake. Victoria, the third largest lake in the world. Beautiful and glittering on the surface, but deadly beneath. Crocodiles lurked in the reeds, and shistosomiasis waits the unwary swimmer that escapes the crocodile. 

Not clouds.  Hatchings of trillions of tiny white annoying midges.

 But we had to cross, and the ferry was out. Our only hope was a cargo ferry, the Serengeti,which plyed the long distance between Mwanza and Kampala and whose captain was willing to take us on—for a fee.

Serengeti's prow under its own spotlights.
The lights on the horizon  are fishing boats. 

Flying Uganda's flag to indicate our port of call.

To be continued.