Up in the hills

Our day started with some very welcome sunshine and the promise of at least the morning without rain. We wound our way steadily up into the mountains above Musanze, with some awesome views down into the valleys all around us, to reach Busogo school. Their grass playing area was a great size, if a trifle soggy from the heavy rain over the last few days. It was also a general thoroughfare for the local community, and at various points during our session we encountered goats, a small flock of sheep led by a junior shepherd, bicycles loaded with produce and a lady doing washing in one of the big puddles.

Children began to emerge from the surrounding area, and we were soon underway with some skills sessions before rounding off with rapidfire contests. The key HIV awareness messages had cries of “condom” filling the air, Sam & Danny leading their groups with gusto, making them easily the loudest.

Impeccable timing had us packed up and driving away just as the rain started, and by the time we had stopped to pick up some lunch and completed a short pit stop back at the hotel, the sun had reappeared. Not before the first major trauma of the day, when an enthusiastic waiter cleared our table of debris while Danny’s back was turned. “Where’s my Waragi?” was his shocked cry, and much to his relief, the precious bottle of local gin, disguised in its brown paper bag, was hurriedly retrieved from the bin.

On to Bilira Primary school. We turned off the main road about 5 minutes out of town, and after passing through a graveyard (!) were immediately driving past clearly much poorer housing, on a very bumpy track. This gave way to fields of maize, cabbages and beans, before we eventually arrived at the school. About 250 pupils rushed out to welcome us, and Eric kept them occupied while we tried to work out how to fit four stations into a space generously described as compact. Ed & I set up our catching drills in a small area a couple of feet below the rest of the ground, and when our first group arrived they came over the step like Grand National runners clearing Becher’s Brook.

A quick deluge interrupted things for 10 minutes, but gave Ed another chance to use his juggling skills to entertain the kids.

We seemed to accumulate more as we went along, but we needn’t have worried. Eric has the skills of a child whisperer, and soon had a couple of hundred engaged in a game.

The secondary school was further up the hill, on a muddy track, and we arrived to find a pocket handkerchief of a playing area on a small plateau, surrounded by a steep drop on all sides. After recovering our breath, from both the climb and the amazing views, a rather cautious game of rapidfire was organised, with bystanders employed on all the boundaries to try to save our precious tennis balls.

Safely down to the bus, full of teachers to drop off on the way, we had to limp the last few hundred yards home with a rock stuck between one set of back wheels. Hopefully Ismael our driver will sort things out overnight, and we can do it all again tomorrow!

Ali