Went to the Entebbe zoo (outside the capital city of Kampala) this week. Was annoyed upon entry, because had been required to pay 4x the admission price of the locals, and then sent back to pay for use of my camera. After that, things vastly improved. The zoo definitely would not have measured up to US safety standards. Because of that, it was fabulous. We were able to get so much closer to the animals than we would have at home. I could have touched the ostriches and monkeys if I had any desire to, and could have easily joined the lion in his habitat. If people exercise common sense, no problems, but if you were of a mind to do something stupid, you’re going to suffer for it. I saw an empty cage, covered with ivy and vines. Obviously hadn’t been used in awhile. I was told that it formerly housed the monkeys, but they had reproduced quickly and surpassed the capacity of the cage. So instead of building a larger cage, they now have run of the park. It was awesome. The monkeys came within a couple feet of us, and we were able to watch them playing, fighting, eating… I got some really good pictures. Some of the kids around us were edging up to the monkey (one of our party heard the father encouraging his son to touch the animal, assuring him that it was quite safe). When the monkey decided that the kid had gotten close enough, it turned, snarled, and chased the kid across the field. The kid was fine, and I laughed. I kept my distance. Yes, the monkeys are used to people, but they’re definitely not tame.

The next day, spent the afternoon at the Kampala amusement park (we’re kind of on vacation). Admission is the equivalent of $3 USD, and can’t imagine how they’re staying out of the red. The city electricity occasionally goes out, meaning that the business must run a generator to operate the rides. Let me tell you, this is nothing like Worlds of Fun. The Octopus (that spinning ride that goes up and down) is made much more exciting simply because it’s in Africa, and I somehow doubt whether their safety precautions would make par in the States. I’m not disappointed. The arm (or tentacle, if we’re going to be technical) of my cart sounds and feels as though it is popping in and out of joint. After a few minutes, I hear my friend shouting “Stop! Stop!”. The operator finally tunes in and slows the ride to a halt. I assume my friend can’t handle the spinning and is feeling nauseous. Wrong. Her safety bar had suddenly released, and she couldn’t get it to latch and was beginning to slide out the side. We had fun, we’re all fine, it’s just crazy different here.

This time, the shepherd boys did start the fire. We had smelled the burning for a while, but didn’t think much of it, as this sort of thing happens frequently. When we walked out of the house, we heard crackling and saw the fields backing up to the house consumed by smoke and flames. The wind blew towards the compound, carrying soot and pushing the fire towards the houses (which, thank God, have very little wood because of the tenacious termites). So much smoke was in the air that it filtered the sunlight, creating an eerie orange glow on the ground. For the past six weeks, we’ve had 90-105ºF temperatures, no rain, and a lot of wind. In other words, ideal conditions for a wildfire. The fire covered a great area, but it’s not like Karamoja has city plumbing or a fire department – there’s not much you can do but watch.

When the blaze reached the edge of the compound, everyone (K’jong and American, adults and children) wrenched branches from the trees and began beating the flames. I used to think that dying from smoke inhalation would be relatively painless, like carbon monoxide. Not true. The smoke burned my eyes and throat, so that I couldn’t last more than twenty seconds stints before retreating to less polluted air. No later would we finish putting out one section and move to another than the original would relight. The blaze finally burned itself out, having used all available fuel, though we can still see it raging in the distance. Can seriously see the hand of God in this: the fire hit all four sides of our compound, but was never able to sustain itself within the perimeter. It also seems to be heading away from the villages, which otherwise would certainly burn to the ground (mud and thatch aren’t the most durable materials). Everyone smells like smoke, but is otherwise fine. Our fields are charred black, but next time, there shouldn’t be much else to burn.