View Around Uganda in 16 days - Part V. in a larger map
B) Kaabong
C) Kotido
D) Moroto
E) Soroti
F) Mbale
G) Jinja
H) Kampala
Day 14.
We got up early in the morning and we took down the camp to continue our journey heading south. The way back to Kapala from the remote Kidepo would be through Karamoja, the most arid and inhospitable region of Uganda.
Karamoja is located in the East of Uganda, and lies all along the Kenyan border from the North until the central eastern part of the country. It is the land of the Karamojong, a tribe sharing its origin with the Maasai, who nowadays live in Kenya and Tanzania. The Karamojong are tall, slim and strong people, and many of them wear a shuka (the "blanket" with bright colours which comes to our mind if we think of a Maasai warrior) and a long stick that they use to lead the cattle.
As the Masai, Karamojong is mainly a pastoralist tribe, and for them cattle (especially cows) is what sets the path of their life. Cows are the most important thing on Earth, and the more cows you have the more respected you are and the more rich you are.
We left Kidepo and drove south. Our first aim was to stop to meet Father Longinos, a Spanish missionary who has been living in Karamoja since 1978. He lives in the North of Karamoja, and we had already talked with him to see if it was possible to pass by where he lives and spend a bit of time with him.
They invited us for lunch and we stayed there for a while talking about all the problems that Karamoja had some years ago, about all the things that had changed during the last years and how nowadays things are much better, especially when it comes to security.
After taking a photograph all together we continued our way south.
The memories I have from that day are seeing how the landscape was turning more and more arid, how there are less people along the roads and how from time to time you start seeing children leading cattle.
We reached Kaabong, one of the three main towns in Karamoja, and there, thanks the contact that Father Longinos gave us, we stopped at the offices of Medecins Sans Frontieres, they had a mechanic who was going to try to re-re-re-re-re-re-re-repair the brakes (in case you haven't read the other parts of the trip,we have a small problem with the brakes).
Mikel y Muskilda, the Spaniards working there, welcomed us and in a couple of minutes we were once again taking a look on the rear brakes.
As you can imagine, at this point we all are experts in drum brakes, and we are explaining the mechanic all that other mechanics have been trying to fix before.
Karamoja is located in the East of Uganda, and lies all along the Kenyan border from the North until the central eastern part of the country. It is the land of the Karamojong, a tribe sharing its origin with the Maasai, who nowadays live in Kenya and Tanzania. The Karamojong are tall, slim and strong people, and many of them wear a shuka (the "blanket" with bright colours which comes to our mind if we think of a Maasai warrior) and a long stick that they use to lead the cattle.
As the Masai, Karamojong is mainly a pastoralist tribe, and for them cattle (especially cows) is what sets the path of their life. Cows are the most important thing on Earth, and the more cows you have the more respected you are and the more rich you are.
We left Kidepo and drove south. Our first aim was to stop to meet Father Longinos, a Spanish missionary who has been living in Karamoja since 1978. He lives in the North of Karamoja, and we had already talked with him to see if it was possible to pass by where he lives and spend a bit of time with him.
They invited us for lunch and we stayed there for a while talking about all the problems that Karamoja had some years ago, about all the things that had changed during the last years and how nowadays things are much better, especially when it comes to security.
After taking a photograph all together we continued our way south.
The memories I have from that day are seeing how the landscape was turning more and more arid, how there are less people along the roads and how from time to time you start seeing children leading cattle.
We reached Kaabong, one of the three main towns in Karamoja, and there, thanks the contact that Father Longinos gave us, we stopped at the offices of Medecins Sans Frontieres, they had a mechanic who was going to try to re-re-re-re-re-re-re-repair the brakes (in case you haven't read the other parts of the trip,we have a small problem with the brakes).
Mikel y Muskilda, the Spaniards working there, welcomed us and in a couple of minutes we were once again taking a look on the rear brakes.
As you can imagine, at this point we all are experts in drum brakes, and we are explaining the mechanic all that other mechanics have been trying to fix before.
Photo: © Zuzana Kazdová
Photo: © Zuzana Kazdová
This mechanic really seemed to know more about it and, working at the same time with the brakes of both rear wheels, he was the only one who managed to repair the brakes, maybe not perfectly, but in a way that we didn't need to stop again because of the brakes until we reached Kampala. And so the prize goes to the mechanic of Medecins Sans Frontieres in Kaabong.
We continued our way and after several stops to enjoy and admire Karamoja we managed to reach Kotido, the next important town in Karamoja. There we found a place to sleep which could be considered decent (among the very few options available), we had dinner and after spending again a nice time chatting we went to sleep.
Day 15.
Since we arrived to Uganda we have always had a high interest in Karamoja, maybe because it is remote and it has been much less influenced by the colonization that the rest of the country. After some months in Uganda, this was the day in which we were going to try to know by ourselves how Karamoja is (well, as much as you can know about something in such a short time).
And apart from our own interest, Oscar's idea is to show Karamoja to the people who come to visit Uganda, but not with the typical touristy visit that people usually have in Kenya or Tanzania in a Maasai village, where you go, they show you how the village is, they make the typical jumping dance, then please "Mr, Tourist", should you buy some handicrafts, and... Next group!!! What Oscar wants is to show how the real life in Karamoja is, not to make just another performance for tourists in a village. So this trip was another opportunity for him to explore new possibilities. He will be one of the firsts touroperators doing something like this in Karamoja, there are not many touroperators including Karamoja in their tour packages.
And so our idea was to look for a random village, talk to them and ask them to explain us how they live and how their villages are... ask them to explain us how they are.
We had been told to go to an area where there is a big Karamojong village called Nakapelimoru, which is close to Kotido, and we decided to look for it.
We left early in the morning and we asked several people the way to Nakapelimoru. After a couple of kilometres we passed by a village which really looked like an authentic manyata (the name that they give to their villages). We didn't know if that was Nakapelimoru or not, but who cares... Does it really matter the name of the village? So we decided to stop there and ask if we could visit it.
Don't think that in these small villages in Karamoja they don't know what a car or a white person is, Karamoja is a remote place but there are cars and motorbikes, and there have been many NGO operating in the area for many years, so we are not such an alien as you might think. That doesn't mean that probably, for many of the children there, we are the first muzungu they see ever in their lives; or that for many people of the village we could be the first muzungus with which they have a close contact. Or I would even say that, seen how many of the children were laughing when seeing their reflection in the dark van, it could be the first time they see themselves reflected in anything.
Obviously we don't speak Karamojong, but one of the friends of Óscar speaks Swahili, and a man living in the village also speaks Swahili, and so we were visiting the village with him as a interpreter.
We explained the man in the village that we didn't want anything special, we only wanted to know if it is possible to visit the village, if they could tell us about their life and if it is possible to take some pictures.
He told us that it was OK, no problem at all... And so we entered the manyata through the small gate.
The man was explaining us how the structure of a manyata is and why it is structured in that way, he was showing the small compounds where families live and we were also visiting the interior one of the huts.
When we entered in one of the huts and I saw the light inside, coming from the door, I thought that the light was really beautiful and that, somehow, there was a photograph waiting to be taken there. A bit later, that hut would be the place where I had one of my best experiences as a photographer. But if you don't mind I will tell you that story other day.
At the beginning we wanted to be respectful and we were not taking photographs, we didn't want to be the typical tourist coming out of the car taking pictures of everybody all around the village. After all they were opening the door of their home. And so, when we got out of the compound where that family was living we decided to ask the man if they wouldn't mind if took some pictures. But the man said that in fact everybody was asking him why we were not taking pictures.
And so we took our cameras and everything became crazy.
At the beginning you take a photograph, and the people look at you, and you take another one... and then another one... until you decide to show them the picture in the camera... That is the moment when a swarm of smiley children leap on you looking at the picture while all them point at it and shout continuously and at the same time something in Karamojong that I guess must be something like "that's me, that's me, that's me...".
Photo: © Zuzana Kazdová
The situation becomes uncontrollable, very funny, but absolutely crazy. Everybody asks you to take pictures of them, alone, then with their children, then the children want to stand in front of everybody and they are pushed away however they can... the chaos.
After a couple of hours in the manyata, showing us different parts of it and taking some photographs, we decided to continue our trip. We were really enjoying and it was very interesting, but we still had a long way ahead.
We told them that we had to leave and headed to the van, half of the village came with us to the van and so we couldn't stop taking pictures, of course.
Photo: © Zuzana Kazdová
After a while we managed to say goodbye and we continued our way through Karamoja.
From there we drove all the way to Moroto, the main town in Karamoja. We stopped there for a while, but we wanted to reach Kampala the next day and we decided to continue the trip to Soroti, already out of Karamoja, where we arrived in the evening.
After having a shower and another enjoyable dinner in the garden of the hostel, together with another nice talk with friends remembering all we had done in the trip and how much we enjoyed the visit to the Karamojong manyata, we went to sleep.
Day 16.
The last day of the trip we just decided to arrive home as soon as possible. We had time enough to stop anywhere in the way, but we decided to drive straight forward to Kampala.
We left Soroti in the morning, we passed Mbale, after some hours we drove over the Nile in the city of Jinja, and in the afternoon we were in Kampala after travelling almost 3.000 km around Uganda.
It has been a great trip and I am really looking forward to repeat it, but with a lot more time... as much as possible... and enjoy every corner of the country as it should be.
If any of you want to join, you are more than welcome.
You have just read the fourth part of the trip. You can also read:
Around Uganda in 16 days - Part I.
Around Uganda in 16 days - Part II.
Around Uganda in 16 days - Part III.
Around Uganda in 16 days - Part IV.Around Uganda in 16 days - Part II.
Around Uganda in 16 days - Part III.
