It’s Monday afternoon. Every muscle in my body moans in protest to any movement. Despite the pain, my sore muscles bring a smile and a proud sense of accomplishment.
I had no idea what I was saying “Yes” to. A few weeks ago I met Genevieve, who is a Peace Corp volunteer and has lived in a village about 30 minutes from Musanze for the past two years. “I am planning to do the Diane Fossey hike, anybody wanna go,” she asked the table of muzungu* girls. We had all randomly met each other around town and were now crowded around a table enjoying Saturday morning brunch on the porch of La Paillotte, Musanze’s version of Panera Bread. Most of the girls kept talking but I paused and for some unknown reason said, “That’s sound fun, I’d love to go.” Later I googled “Diane Fossey hike” and discovered that it was a semi-challenging 12 mile hike (round trip) to visit the grave and research center of Diane Fossey. “Mostly flat and sometimes muddy; Beautiful relaxing hike; Possibility of seeing monkeys and gorillas;” the reviews said. As I would later find out - these reviews were written by someone with with an entirely different understanding of the words ‘flat, muddy, and relaxing”.
On the morning of our hike, the hired car picked us up at 6:00 am and with uneasiness in my stomach, we set off for the “Volcanoes National Park” where we would pay the entrance fee and meet our guide. There were five of us Muzungu girls. My roommate Meredith, and Genevieve along with two friends who were teaching in Kigali, Ally and Sarah. Once in the park, we met up with six other very fit and seemingly expert outdoorsy muzungus who were eager to tackle the 12 mile hike. Trying not to feel intimated or judged for my overweight and obviously out-of-shape self, I put on a brave and friendly face and introduced myself to our hiking mates.
After a short “orientation” from our guide, Eleana (one of five female guides compared to the 30 plus male guides). We all piled back into our hired cars and drove thirty minutes farther down the road to the beginning of our trail. The drive would have taken only ten minutes, but most of the road was uneven volcanic rock. Our driver smiled and told us to enjoy the “African massage”. The constant and severe jolting from the absurd road can not be described by words. Truly, it can only be experienced. It reminded me of that game we used to play on the trampoline as kids. One brave kid locks his arms around his knees and tries with all his might not to break his “egg” while all the other kids are jumping around him seeing how high they can get the “egg” to bounce.
Fully and completely shaken up, we arrive at the base of our trail. I am amazed to discover our parking lot a total mud pit and the temperature to have dropped at least 10 degrees. Our group gathers and walking stick are distributed. Eleana approaches me with a man in a blue work-suit. He is a porter and Eleana encourages me to hire him. It is a short hike and I’m only carrying a small pack with lunch and water - but I agree to hire him and hand him my bag.
We start hiking up the road till we reach the Park sign. Then we hang a left and walk on a flat trail where the only obstacles are the occasional cow and lots of cow poo. I start regretting hiring the porter. “This is a breeze,” I think to myself!
Then Eleana stops our crew and asks for the slowest hikers to come to the front. She of course means me, so I make my way to the front of our group. Eleana smiles and gives some kind of speech about how we are all a team and we will complete the hike together or not at all. I try not to feel too self conscious. Then she turns and looks up at the volcano that we have be hiking beside and announces, “Now we go up to the Park wall.”
Turns out, we aren’t even INSIDE the park yet. We still have another 40 minutes of hiking up before we make it to the park wall where we find half a dozen armed military soldiers who are there to protect us from the wild buffalo, elephants and gorillas that roam the park. But, considering we are sneezing distant from the D.R. Congo - I kind of think they are there to protect us from other things as well.
Finally we reach the park wall. We had been hiking through fields of cultivated agricultural vegetation. But, on the other side of the wall is pure, impenetrable jungle. The path becomes rockier, muddier, and steeper - so my hiking becomes even slower than before. I can just hear the line of expert outdoorsy adventurers behind me groan with frustration at my slow speed. But I take a deep breath and will myself forward.
*muzungu - local term used to refer to white people
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| Genevieve (mastermind of the whole hike) with Eleana, our guide, in the background. |
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| The road up the small hill from where our truck parked. That's me in the green shirt. |
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| Some of the "expert outdoorsy hikers" on our first small incline. |
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| The five muzungu girls. Sarah, Genevieve, Meredith, Me, and Ally. We are trying to seem adventuresome! Despite what the sign says, this isn't close to where the parking lot was. |
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| After the sign, we turned left and enjoyed a nice flat hike! |
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| Then, we turned right and started hiking up. He a rock wall acts as a barrier to a nearby field where flowers used for insecticide are grown. |
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| We keep heading up and up. You can see me in the foreground - I'm had started hiking in the front, but was quickly overtaken by the more exuberant hikers in our group. |
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| Taking a break and looking back to see how far we have hiked. Those building in the distance on the left are where we parked our vehicles. |
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| I am back at the front of the line setting a slower pace. |
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| We are getting closer to the Park Wall, which is near the tree line. |
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| The porters in blue help all of us navigate climbing over the wall. |
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| Before the hike - Ally and I pose. |
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| Still feeling confident before we start hiking up. |
