Thanks to Zack’s brother being here, we got to take a mini-vacation to Uganda. And thanks to an inconsistent skyping schedule with my parents, I never had to tell them beforehand that I was going rafting on the Nile’s Class 5, largely unregulated rapids. So here comes the bragging…my biggest conclusion from the weekend is that this preppy boarding school girl from New England might be the most hardcore our of our muzungu group.
First…the hostel. Backpackers Hostel in Kampala is quite possibly the nicest hostel I’ve ever seen – and we got a private room because it was so “nasty” to some in the group. I’ll give you that the toilets didn’t flush and that there was a cockroach half the size of my palm in our room…but there were toilets to flush (unlike Namibia), we had beds (unlike Malaysia), we were allowed to sleep boys and girls in the same room (unlike Montana), there were no drug paraphernalia scattered around the room (unlike Amsterdam), and there were sheets on the beds (unlike any other hostel – even though I did use my silk sleep sack). All in all, I was quite impressed. Unfortunately…the rest of the group was not. Two had never stayed in a hostel, one had only stayed in this one, and one always got a private room whenever she did. Positive points to the preppy girl for having experience with “roughing it.”
Second…the rafting. By no means should I ever go whitewater rafting. As a reminder, my shoulders have dislocated when turning around too quickly and when playing pong, let alone the numerous frightening times they’ve dislocated around water (one while sailing and both while kayaking). Yet, I’m again going to award points to myself for my ability to learn and for my previous “outdoorsy” experience. Apparently my summers capsizing canoes at our lake house (so jealous that my parents and John are there right now without me) and endless (ENDLESS) hours talking to Semester at Sea “Heli” about his summers as a rafting guide gave me the ease and confidence necessary to look like I knew what I was doing. …even though I was strictly instructed to tuck my arms in when flipping and was helpless at getting myself back in the raft, I think that my natural comfort with the water and my ability to properly paddle won me outdoorsy bragging rights points. Oh yeah…and my shoulder dislocated underwater (shocking) = more badass points.
|Note the perfect form of keeping arms tucked in as to not dislocate the shoulder. |
(Coincidentally, this is the rapid on which I did dislocate my shoulder.)
Finally…because we all learned in middle school that arguments with 3 points are ideal…I’ll give myself points for not getting wasted on the second night of the trip. Yes…I’m so hardcore that I don’t give into peer pressure. Bragging points? I’ll take it because it means that I was up bright and early for an omelet breakfast the next morning.
In conclusion…it’s really too bad that not everybody can be Eli Mitchell.