Gorilla Trekking in Rwanda

Injecting in the Rwandan jungle, not something
I ever expected to write! 

My Mum has always wanted to visit the Gorillas, and her trip to visit us last June provided the perfect opportunity to make this happen. If you are anywhere in East Africa, I certainly recommend a side trip to Rwanda, Uganda or the Congo to see these incredible creatures. From Arusha we flew to Kigali and spent a day trying to collect our permits, let’s just say that it was worth dedicating a day to this! Even somewhere as developed as Kigali requires a large dose of TIA patience (TIA=This is Africa).

From Kigali we took a public bus to Musanze, about 30 minutes from the Volcanoes National Park. Being so close to a major attraction it was surprising to see no other tourists. We could only conclude that the majority of visitors were staying in expensive lodges closer to the park. Our hotel was deserted and we seemed to be the only visitors. The staff were so attentive and excited to have us… Every move we made we felt very watched as they tried to anticipate our every need. There was mirrored glass in the restaurant and I swear they were watching us as we ate, as the moment we finished a drink or our last mouthful they would eagerly appear within 5 seconds to clear our dishes! 

There are about 20 families of gorillas in the Volcanoes National Park, 10 of which are visited by tourists. Tourist groups are capped at 8 people per group. The gorillas are constantly tracked by armed rangers to provide protection from poachers. Permits are expensive but you can see the money being put to good use here. 

After driving to the park in the early morning we were put into the Agashya family group. This is a large group with 27 gorillas, including one silverback (the group's namesake - Agashya means special in Kinyarwandan).  This Silverback took over the group in 2013. He is named special because he has held onto the group and allowed it to grow under his care. He is famous for caution and will lead his family to the top of the volcano if he senses any threat. People trek between 20 minutes to 12 hours to see this group.With our two guides plus some armed rangers (for the buffalo!) we set off. Much to Mum's dismay we clambered up steeper and steeper slopes for about an hour and a half before coming out to a beautiful jungle plain. The rangers pointed out the gorillas in the distance up a formidable looking mountain side. Up we went, scrambling through deep vines on what I swear was a very steep slope. 

When we got within 5 minutes of the gorillas we left our bags behind and proceeded for our allocated hour. I snuck a few sweets and my BG meter in my pocket, just incase. Luckily I did as in the excitement of seeing the gorillas my blood sugar dropped and I had to sneak a few sweets, luckily no one noticed, not even the gorillas.

These creatures are majestic. My first view got my heart racing as I followed the guide and a huge black-back ambled right behind me, I froze in my spot as the guide tried to reroute the group following behind. On the steep slippery slope I could feel myself sliding backwards and my leg was gently touching this huge creature! We worked our way around the slope, settled in, and just watched. It was so humbling and surreal to spend time among such gentle yet powerful creatures. Their mannerisms are so human like, from the way they curl up to sleep, to gently scolding their naughty babies. Their faces are mesmerisingly human-like. An hour of my life has never passed so quickly. Even better to share the experience with my mum. 

After returning to Kigali we visited the genocide memorial. This place is an incredible tribute. As I am sure you can imagine, it is a heartbreaking experience, but it was the room dedicated to child victims that broke me. President Kigame has done an incredible job rebuilding Rwanda, however the overwhelming presence of armed soldiers and police gives hints of darker political agendas. 

Travel is so wonderful. Incredible experiences make all the hard-times worthwhile, and help put my faulty pancreas in perspective. 

Our recommendations;

Bring gloves and gaiters for the stinging nettles.

You may not need a porter, but they need you. 

Book your passes yourself here. If you live in East Africa make sure you ask for the resident price.  

Kigali accomodation - Steptown Hotel

Musanze accomodation - The Virgunga Hotel

Kufundisha. To teach.

My classroom. 

I love the reaction that people give me when they find out that I teach in Tanzania. People visualise me in a cramped classroom, perhaps in a desolate landscape, teaching a class of 50 or more African children to read and write with only a blackboard. Let’s just say that I am no more saintly than any other teacher, and this is not the case! 

A government school that I visited.

I teach the equivalent to grade 1 and 2 in one of the International Schools in Arusha. My students in this year’s class come from 16 different countries. Many students are from Tanzania or are half Tanzanian, many come from other parts of Africa, and many are from Europe, England and America. Sadly no New Zealanders in my class yet. Expat families are here working in tourism, for NGOs, as lawyers … The reasons for being here are as diverse as the nationalities represented.

It is a privilege to work with children from all around the world. Every day, in every lesson, the kids bring so much from their own backgrounds to create a beautiful learning environment where our differences and similarities are valued and celebrated. These children are living proof that intolerance and fear of difference is learned behaviour. Anyone can make simple statements about “we all bleed red,” “we are the same on the inside,” etc etc, and one might know about a culture’s food and fashion, but it is another level to strive to understand and truly appreciate diversity. I love learning how to do this with and from my students every day.

I love how they barely blink an eye when I test my blood sugar. They have some initial curiosity but it is just a part of me that they accept. They ask me afterwards if my sugar is okay. If it’s too low they tell me, “you have a sweet and a sit-down, we’ve got this!” I love that my diabetes teaches them to empathise, not to pity. It is a model of strength, not weakness.  

Some days it all feels too much. The world is a scary place when you can’t do something as simple as eat without intensive medical intervention. Work is hard. Teaching is hard. But every day, no matter how difficult it was to get up that morning, having 24 little faces rushing into our class, so excited to see me, makes it so worthwhile.

T1 teachers, see here for my tips for teaching with Type1. Not an easy feat!  

Umeme. Electricity.

Umeme = electricity. It is shida kabisa, a complete problem. 

Enjoying candlelight dinners. Love it.  

We are lucky enough to live in a house with electricity, but this of course means dealing with the power-cuts that are routine in this part of the world. There is usually some kind of cut every day, ranging from 1 hour to 15+ hours per day. Candlelight dinners, bucket showers, no TV… can be fun until the novelty wears off!

The longest we went without any power was 8 days. In the 4 months prior to elections there was only a couple of hour’s power per day, usually in the middle of the night. I loved hearing stories of people getting up at 2am to doing their ironing! The real reasons behind power cuts are fairly elusive, and include political control of communication to companies that own hydro-dams wanting to sell more generators!

Power cuts are of course disruptive for everyone, but having the added stress of life-saving medication that must be refrigerated adds another dimension. The first power cut we experienced I rushed around, checked with the neighbours about who to call, asked how long it usually takes to come back… Basically an all-round panic over my insulin. As I realised how common-place these cuts are here, we developed a range of strategies to keep my insulin at a reasonable temperature. Let’s just say my standards for what qualifies as “refrigerated” have undergone quite a transformation.

So tonight, I request that you enjoy your lights on demand for me.

See here for my tips to keep insulin cool with limited electricity.  

Tumbili. Diabetes Monkey.

The Zanzibar Red Colobus monkey is unable to process sugar, like me!

It is official. I have a new favourite animal. Not only are they adorable with killer hair-dos, they, like me, cannot process sugar.

I was lucky enough to visit Jozani Forest which was the best thing I did in Zanzibar. Not only do I love forests of any description, but it was so unlike any place I have been before. The forest is humid, lush and teeming with life, with immense mangroves that you can explore via a boardwalk. It is the largest remaining stand of forest on Zanzibar and an essential habitat for so many creatures, from land to ocean. The National Park authority works with local communities and it seems to be a real success story in ecotourism supporting local enterprise and conservation. One initiative is teaching local people to farm butterflies which are purchased from them for the butterfly park and sale overseas.

The forest is home to endangered Zanzibar Red Colobus monkeys. Sadly, because of the small habitat and threats due to road traffic, these monkeys are listed as endangered. The Colobus around the walking trails are used to visitors, so unlike the Black and White Colobus in Arusha, you can get close without disturbing them. I was  delighted when my ranger guide informed me that they only eat leaves and unripe fruit because they cannot process sugar! While I use insulin to get around this, they eat charcoal to help process trace amounts of sugar. In that moment I wished desperately I could communicate with the monkeys to lament our bodies and their sugar processing abilities. The cruelty of living in a forest with jackfruit and mango abounding and we cannot eat it without medical intervention! I found my kindred animal.

This monkey gets me. How I feel when I'm hypoglycemic... or hyperglycemic.

Beautiful Vine Snake in Jozani Forest.  

Unguja. Zanzibar.

Hello from the beautiful island paradise of Zanzibar. Jarrod was conveniently sent here for work and school is closed, so guess who got to join him.

Zanzibar is still Tanzania but is considered a semi-autonomous region. They have their own parliament and leader. Currently there is no parliament due to
disputes after the elections in October, and people tell me that a re-election may be years away. This unrest saw a lot of media attention and has deterred visitors, however peacefulness seems to be reigning and people tell me the “shida” or “trouble” was sensationalised.

Stonetown alleys.

Zanzibar has an interesting history and has been an active trade hub for the Middle East since the 8^th century. You can see this influence permeating every aspect of life here, from historic ruins to the spiced food to the mosques. Stonetown is made up of narrow alleys, mostly painted white, with ornate carved doors serving as the entrance ways to buildings. It is stiflingly humid and hot, which suits the atmosphere of the environment beautifully. The food is fresh and delicious and the people are warm and kind. Getting lost wandering through the alleyways and marketplace is safely intrepid and a wonderful escape; a completely different feel to Arusha in mainland Tanzania where we live. 

Finding a ledge to check my blood sugar.

Wandering through any busy town is always tricky in terms of blood sugar checks. I try and make the most of convenient opportunities, such as stopping for lunch or right before hopping out of the taxi (or tax as they say here). Needless to say, sometimes you just have to get over it and test or inject on the street, regardless of whose looking. Generally I find no one expresses anything more than a mild curiosity. In fact, I think the locals enjoy seeing the flaw in someone who they previously perceived as a rich and privileged mzungu (foreigner).  I think that perhaps when locals see me testing or injecting they think, "Oh, her life is a bit shitty too sometimes."  I feel this minor display of vulnerability creates a little bit of shared humanity that transcends any preconceived differences. Anyway, island hopping and blood testing calls. 

Flying into Zanzibar with Jarrod as pilot.

 

Kitenge and alleys.

Kuandaa. To Prepare.

Travel, holidays, exploring, new places… Love it. I am in Zanzibar writing this and having an incredible time. However I will get to that later.

Today I feel the need to share/moan/laugh about the preparation that occurs when a T1 diabetic travels. When I was diagnosed, I was due to depart for Tanzania only 6 weeks later, so I was thrown into the challenges of travel right from the beginning, and for this I feel somewhat grateful.

The key is organisation and preparation. Organisation of supplies, and preparation for the worst.

Here is photo of my medical supplies for this week in Zanzibar. It pretty much says it all. This is the day to day equipment I need to stay alive for one week, but going away, I need doubles or triples of everything, just in case something is lost/stolen or damaged. I always lay everything out one or two days before departure, and triple check I have everything. Travelling in developed countries this is not such an issue, as replacements are possible, however the lack of easy access to medical supplies in developing countries deems this necessary.

Ready for anything! Type 1 diabetes supplies for 1 week away.

Perhaps I overthink things, but I also consider natural disasters, political unrest, transport delays. For everyone else, getting stranded somewhere probably means a bit of discomfort. For a T1 diabetic who has lost their insulin or sugar, it’s a lot more serious. There is no need to let these worries prevent you from doing anything, but I believe it pays to plan for a worst case scenario. In addition, I always wear my medic-alert bracelet and an ugly medical wrist-band when travelling. There are so many unknowns being in this part of the world, and you are not always with people who know you. It is just better that people can easily see that you have a medical condition for if you are in an accident.

I really think that I should be allowed excess baggage on medical grounds, however I’m not so sure they will go for it. Maybe next time I fly I will ask and let you know. For any T1s reading, I will make a list of travel tips soon. For anyone who doesn’t have to carry this amount of medical equipment with you everywhere you go, feel grateful next time you are packing your bag and trying to organise your toiletries!

Kuanza. To Begin.

Many people have said to me I should keep a blog. I can understand why. Life has been fairly tumultuous this last year and a half and people are curious. The internet is full of adventurous, healthy ,young people blogging about their travel, so I think my situation is unique in doing this with the odds stacked a little bit more against me. Until now though, I think I have needed time to process just what has happened, and come to terms with how much my life has changed.

A few weeks ago I was pulling out of my drive, trying to get to work, and two Massai men walked by with their flock of goats. While I was waiting for them to pass I pricked my finger and checked my blood sugar before the chaos of the day began. Something came upon me and I saw this through the eyes of others. The beauty of the scene; the bag of needles and supplies on my lap and my vulnerability in being here, the Massai in their red checked shukas and tyre sandals, the bells of the goats chiming and the lush surrounds caused by the rains, all with Mt Meru looming. Suddenly I felt the need to share what has become my normal.

Kwa nini? Why? I hope this blog will be therapeutic for me, and I am excited about documenting my experiences. I hope this blog will reach one other T1 diabetic and give them one piece of useful advice. I hope that this blog will help one person make a difficult decision about pursuing an opportunity. I hope this blog will help one person realise that despite your challenges, there can be ways to work around them and with them. I hope this blog will help someone who finds themselves in a similar situation to me 18 months ago, and make them feel a little bit less alone. I hope it will make someone laugh. I cannot believe the changes in perspective that occur going from perfect health to “not,” and I hope I can share what I have learned. 

First post. I hope someone reads it. If you are a friend who knows me but did not know about all these changes, I’ll end with this quote that resonates strongly with me nowadays.  

Cheesy? Yes. True? Absolutely.

“Be kind. Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.” Ian MacLaren

Dusty African sunrise on my morning commute.