The Ugandan Slopes of Mt Elgon

Early Monday morning, Dec 8^th, we were taken by buda, buda to the matatu stage on the other side of town.  We traveled from Kakamega, Kenya to Mbale, Uganda by using 4 different matatus.  The last leg of the trip we had one flat tire which was quickly changed after we all got out. It was late in the afternoon when we arrived in the city of Mbale.  Pastor Charles was waiting there to welcome us.  It was nearly five and we needed to find a matatu to take us toward his home in the slopes of Mt. Elgon.

 

As we walked toward the matatu stage area the incline of the busy main street takes us up toward the mountain. The street is covered with vendors and people.  Food and vegetables of all kinds decorate the sidewalks.  Crowds of people are gathered everywhere.  Shoulder to shoulder we press through the crowds.  The business of the area leaves an unsettled atmosphere.

 

We squeeze into the matatu and our luggage is tied on top.  I feel something crawling on my hair and quickly remove a cockroach. The matatu takes us through village after village as it moves its way up the slopes of Mt Elgon.  The sun is setting and we slow down as a large group of people surround us and dance around the vehicle.  They are preparing for "Imbalu" / circumcision rite / the ritual of manhood.  Painted faces, no shirts, bells strapped to their thighs, sticks & clubs in their hands and with drums beating they run up and down the mountain slopes for three days & nights.

 

Around 7pm we arrive in the village of "Bushika".  This is the last stop. Our ride is over. The area is dark and very much alive as the excitement of the circumcision ceremony fills the air.  As I stand there a group of chanting and singing candidates runs towards me. At one point I am completely surrounded, before they run further on.

 

From this point I was to be taken by motorcycle the rest of the way up this slope of Mt Elgon.  Pastor Charles has a home at the very top.  It was dark and it had rained that afternoon.  The driver of the motorcycle said it was just too dangerous.  I agreed J . So we did it African style "Foot Express".  For three long hours we climbed up, up, up, up and up in the dark. No flashlights, no candles, just the light of the moon guided our way. A well used rocky foot path winded its way through banana trees and thick vegetation.  One person followed the other, caravan style, while suitcases were being carried on the heads of those helping us. The cool night was appreciated as the body felt the pressure of the "work out". We rested a few minutes here and there along the way for the white woman. My body required it. It was screaming for rest J  Every one else seemed to be doing ok.  I assured them the white woman would finish the race.  It might take me a little longer to get there but I would not give up.

 

Through the light of the moon the eye could behold the beauty around. It surrounded us. The higher we went the more in awe I became.  The sounds of the still night made me realize I was in a new land.  What would daylight hold?

 

At the end of our 3 hr hike up the mountain we arrived at Pastor Charles home in Bushinokho Village.   We entered his home made from the mud of the earth and cow dung.  His wife and 6 children quickly gather around us and a prayer is said thanking God for our safe journey.  We sit and rest as meal is prepared for us.

 

Early the next morning I pushed opened my little wooden window.  I couldn't wait to see the area in the daylight. I wanted to see the sun rise over the mountain ranges.  There to my surprise stood a young girl just waiting to see what the white woman looked like.

 

The daylight did not disappoint me. It is the most beautiful area I have ever been in.  High on top of a mountain range with deep valleys below and mountains completely surrounding me.  It is a photographers dream.  Everywhere you turn is an opportunity to capture beauty in its natural form.

 

The day was spent meeting and praying for people up and down the slope. The chief was one of the first people to greet.  Before the day was over we had gone to the very last house on the highest point of this slope of Mt Elgon.

 

A group preparing for the right of circumcision stops and asks me to attend their ceremony.  With this invitation they are honoring me and welcoming me into their community.  The next day I walk down the slope to a flat piece of land where others had gathered for the ceremony.  The ceremony brings many people together from the mountain. Men dance about with clubs and sticks in their hands. There is singing and dancing. Many are drinking, "Malwa", home brew made from maize. 

The boys faces are painted with cassava flour and malwa yeast paste.  Beads decorate their bodies. Women and children dance about. It is a happy occasion. Gifts of cows, chickens, goats, food, and money are given to each of the boys. The air is charged. I had three men watching over me as I was given the place of honor at the ceremony. Each boy stood before the knife. To pass into manhood he could not cry, he could not move, he could not look down, he could not blink his eyes.  Each one passed successfully into manhood.

 

My time in the slopes of Mt Elgon is way too short.  The door has been opened to me here, high on the mountain.  Their culture has been expressed to me with openness.  I came for a short stay but leave with much knowledge of the ways and culture of the Lumasaba Tribe. My time here also makes me realize I have so much more to learn.

 

I will miss hearing the songs of praise before the crack of dawn each morning. I will miss the meals shared around the latern in the evening. I will miss the beauty I saw in each woman as she knelt to the ground out of Respect when she greeted a man or an older woman. I will miss it all but I will never forget how it gripped my heart.

 

We started back to Kenya that evening.  We took a matatu from Mbale to the Kenya border. Once in Kenya we took a bus to Nairobi.  As we are finding our seat they are working on the bus.  Then they proceed to push the bus backwards to jump start it. A few miles down the road we are stopped for a police check. It's midnight and everyone is ordered out of the bus.  The women are to line up in front of one headlight and the men in front of the other headlight. One by one we show them I D and then they go through our suitcases. When the last one is back on the bus we head toward Nairobi.  A few miles down the road we are stopped again for another police check. From there we stop at a police station. They come out with equipment to scan the bus for bombs.  We are cleared and travel the night hitting pot hole after pot hole. Thankful, tired and with many memories we arrive safely back in Nairobi at 8 am.

 

Psm 95:3 & 4

For the Lord is the great God, the great King above all gods.

In his hand are the depths of the earth and the mountain

                        peaks belong to him.