12 April 2011


I am having the sort of day in which you leave work at 7 pm, stop at two stores to find some Sweetarts (neither store had the chewy kind. harumph.), and then come home and put some rice on to cook, only to find 30 minutes later that you forgot to turn the heat on under the rice.



I was reading this blog post just now about some national park somewhere, involving hippos. I am not so much an animal person. I like them and all, but I am not fascinated like some people are. (Tell that to the 7 rolls of film I took while on the Masai-Mara in Kenya in 2000, however.)

When I took a break from my frantic working in Rwanda and took this trip to Queen Elizabeth National Park in Uganda, I didn't really do the animals thing. I hired a guide, but I asked him to take me to the salt farm in the park instead. I was interested in the development side of things, not the animals. (Now that I think about it, this made it not really a break in the way that it should have been, since development work was exactly what I was doing every day. Oops. I did a lot of reading and sleeping, too.)

I also took a hippo tour. A hippo tour involves trawling about in a flat-bottomed boat in the shallows of the lake, looking at hippos, naturally. Hippos are weirdly awesome. They are lumbering and awkward and flat-headed, and they have this tendency to pop out of the water without looking up, which means that you need the flat bottom of the boat because they are liable to come up right underneath you with a thud. You (ok, I) just have to love an animal that is so clumsy that it will ram its head into boats. That's like me, in animal form.

There be hippos.

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