Father and Son’s Outing — Rwandan Style!

It’s been a while since I posted on here and I have to admit, it feels good to be AWOL sometimes. It is refreshing to be far away from news, Facebook feeds, and other social media. It has been almost a year now since I took my Facebook hiatus and I haven’t felt the least tinge of regret.

It has given me time to be with my family and plan exciting adventures. It is fun to watch Jack growing up and picking up interests in certain activities. The hard thing is realizing some of the things he might be missing back in the states. Wrestling, normal public schools in English, hikes in the mountains, skiing….it doesn’t help to think about.

I recently promised myself that I wouldn't feel sorry for my boy at all. This is one of the greatest places to find adventure (heck this is where some of the greatest explorers passed through to find the source of the River Nile). Sometimes it does take a little creativity to find adventure nearby though.

I decided it was time to have a father and son’s outing. Sure, it wasn’t going to be a bunch of other boys and their fathers hanging out at Benyon Creek. There probably wouldn’t be any s’mores or starbursts, but it was going to happen and that’s all that mattered no matter how haphazard it was.

I planned it all out in a matter of minutes (as is customary in our home). It all began when Jenn told me she was thinking of getting tickets to California that night and I agreed she should (it’s only a little flight after all). I told her that Jack was staying with me though. I was going to take him North with me to Volcanoes National Park in Musanze to work with our potato breeder who was prepping the fields for planting.

Jenn quickly changed her mind and said it was better for him to just stay.  I told her it was time for us to have some man time out in the wilderness. There wasn’t going to be any argument about it.

Jack was ecstatic! He sang to his mom “JAAA---aaa--AAACKS come back!” –Just to reassure her. Then we started throwing things in his pack so we would be ready for some serious hiking. We had all of his rain clothes, pajamas, undies, socks, shirts, and pants in the bag in a matter of minutes. Needless to say, he was ready to go.

We set off on one of the grandest adventures together. Off to Musanze to plant potatoes near the volcanoes.

I thought it would be hard on Jack, but he was gung-ho about heading out with the big boys to work. It was myself, Bizimana, and Landry. We got some food for the trip and then headed off.

I found myself being even more excited than Jack. This was my time to prove that Jack was ready for tougher expeditions (we had done a couple mini expeditions previously where I took him with me to the office and hiked up to the parliament building).  This would be our first overnighter with just us boys and I was excited to prove that we were up to the task. My dream is to take Jack up Kilimanjaro and every other tough climb as soon as he is old enough.

Our first order of business was to visit Zemura feed in Musanze where they process animal feed. Our goal was to determine what prices yellow maize would fetch and what strategies we could use to get people to adopt this variety. Yellow maize is processed for poultry feed and the yellow color (Beta-carotene) is what leads to yellow egg yolks which most consumers prefer.

Jack jumped right out and the manager of the factory was good to keep him excited about being there. He even let him do a bit of feed processing himself! Jack mostly chased their cat they kept to keep the rats down in the factory.

The rain started pouring and we decided to be off on our next adventure: potato planting. What we came for! It is fun to get out into the breeder potato fields because they are right underneath Rwanda’s massive volcanoes. It is an epic view and the smells of the eucalyptus trees mix with the smell of burning charcoal from the village.

As I was taking this all in, Jack started dancing and yelling that he had to go potty. We had done this three times already on the way and every time was an adventure in and of itself. I took Jack to the nearest outhouse and we were swarmed by little weaver birds who were just eating all the fallen wheat that had been thrashed the week before. Jack was a good sport and just dropped his drawers like he belonged there.

We hopped out of the car and found everyone huddled in the shed for protection from the heavy rains. Jack got all outfitted and gave the locals a show by running up and down and jumping in the puddles and then getting on the tractor. He was in heaven! Landry and Bizimana had brought fleece sweaters and were soaking up the rain like sponges and freezing to death. I have learned over and over again that rule #1 for any expedition is having the right equipment on hand. There is nothing like enjoying a good rainstorm in the great outdoors while being in a comfy jacket and rain boots. Jenn knows I’m obsessed with rain and love taking the kids out whenever it rains just so they can enjoy it the way I do.

Things warmed up a bit and I was able to plan and coordinate with the potato breeder as Jack sat on the tractor switching the hazard lights on and off while making noises for the engine.  Everywhere we went, people were excited to see him.

We decided to stay up near the breeder station at one of the lodges in a house that could fit all 4 of us. It was getting cold and it was raining again. As soon as we got there, we got a fire started in the little fire place and snuggled up in fleece blankets as the temperature continued to drop. Jack and I weren’t as cold as our compatriots who were ill-adapted to the high elevation and fridge air. We got ourselves some hot cocoa and sat around the fire.

I couldn’t help but think about all of the father and son’s outings I had been on in my life. I loved them. One of the most challenging things about living out in Rwanda is the lack of these sorts of organized events. Scouts, sports, and other group events are found in excess in the States, but out here, you gotta make them up as you go. As I look at it though, it is kind of nice to be able to tailor your own little activities.

The lodge manager brought in warm water containers so we wouldn’t freeze in the middle of the night. By the time the sun was down, Jack was ready to crash. He had a full day and we were up for a challenging hike the following day. I’ll be honest, I was more than a little nervous about taking him because I had only recently been getting back into hiking daily and this was going to be a steep climb.

My goal was to do Mt Basoke.

That night there were some weird things happening that were keeping Bizimana and Landry up all night. I figured it had something to do with the Ju-ju masks from Congo, so I tossed them outside and told the guys to just calm down and go to sleep. They still didn’t sleep much.

We were up early (some of us were up all night) getting ready for our hike. We ate a good breakfast and had a sack lunch prepared.

We got to the Ranger Station in Musanze and I walked in. We were surrounded by folks from all around the world (mostly Europe and America). They were completely taken back as they saw me carrying my son in the osprey pack.

The rangers were laughing and they said I wouldn’t be allowed to go with Jack because he was too young. The risk for altitude sickness and other problems were too high.

We had to make some quick change of plans and decided to go up Mt. Kabuye (the highest mountain in Rwanda).  It was a bit off the beaten path and is not exactly a tourist destination which means you really don’t have to pay any official fees. You just pick up a local villager as a guide and head on up.

It was one hill after another. I kept thinking I was at the top, but as soon as we would stop for a second the villager would start heading down another hill to go up an even bigger hill. I have absolutely no qualms about pushing up to the top of a mountain, but when you go down and then up three times, it starts to feel like mother nature is playing some games with your body and mind. The biggest problem is that you don’t get that I-just-finished satisfaction when you are going down the hill only to find yourself trudging up again.

After finally making it to the top, we took our lunch break and breathed in the fresh air only to find that the air was getting thick with cloud cover. It was going to rain and from the looks of it, it was going to be a heavy downpour. Jack was excited, but he wasn’t carrying the pack. The local villager told us about a cave on the other side of Mt. Kabuye called the “King’s Cave” because it was once the hide out of the king of Rwanda.

So, we took our crew and headed that way. Jack was fascinated by the deep cave and was all about getting in and making it his new home as we watched the rain drench the side of the mountain. He had his stick and took my phone to do a little spelunking.

We went down through the villages nearby the slopes of Kabuye and I decided to let Jack walk the rest of the way back to the car. He quickly picked up an entourage of friends and excitedly marched his parade to the car. The Rwandan village kids may have never seen a miniature mazungu till that day and so the gasps and hushed whispers along the road were warranted.

Jack was hamming it up like a true explorer who just conquered a serious mountain and I was proud as punch. He had his macho weekend with pops, processed his chicken feed, withstood the torrential rains in an ancient Rwandan King's cave, manned the abandoned tractor under the volcanoes during planting, braved the overwhelming stench of an overflowing outhouse, and didn’t rest until he ensured that my Leatherman was still operational on the way home.

And just like any true adventurer, he sacked out with his mouth wide open from exhaustion. I woke him up to go to a decent bathroom on the way back. We picked up our favorite rainy-day-Rwandan-snack: barbeque maize. It was the perfect end to a beautiful beginning of many adventures to come -with my boy.