July 18th-- Ms. Seibert's Post: "Mongoose in the Hotel Lobby!"

“Elizabeth, Gretchen, come here. You’ve got to see this! There are about fifty mongooses in the lobby!” Those were the first words I heard shortly after arriving at our last safari destination, Myewa Lodge in Queen Elizabeth Park, Uganda. By the time I reached the lobby all of the little critters were scurrying, squeaking, and skittering out into the parking lot, gently shooed out by the hotel staff. Tiny babies followed their mothers closely, and from a distance they looked like a gang of momma cats with their babies.

As I made my way back to my room, I met three warthogs chomping the lawn. Warthogs look surprisingly humble when they eat for they kneel down on their two front legs—a manner which belies the intimidating tusks that jut out from either side of their snouts. The coarse hairy skin that covers their bodies ends in a cute little tail that stands up like a wiggly antenna when they run.

Then, on the way to track chimps this morning in Kyambora Gorge, we came across a lion nonchalantly sauntering down the road. He was not more than five feet from our car. It was an electric beginning to a wise day. One hour after hiking into Kyambora Gorge, the piercing scream of chimps shot through the forest. A haunting, beautiful sound that seemed to say: This is as it should be. The group of nine swung from the trees, ate Ironwood tree fruit, and periodically rested on branches. A mother and baby reclined lazily in a large chimp nest constructed of twigs and leaves. The baby’s pink little face peered out from the nest as it reached for leaves with its toes. Nature silenced us with awe. I have never been a zoo person, but after seeing chimps joyfully rustle tree tops, a herd of elephants run freely across the savannah, lions hide in tall yellow grass, and warthogs search for the best tree on which to scratch their rumps, I never want to see an imprisoned animal again.

But we, Doug, Elizabeth, and I, were most fortunately imprisoned by the jungle, and that is the reason we have not written for several days. The Internet does not exist where we have been. Electricity is only available for several hours a day. That makes the evenings in a safari tent magical. Kerosene lanterns create soft orange light. Hundreds of species of birds call from the jungle. Insects whisper and millipedes crawl. The occasional roar of a lion slices through the gentler melodies. Stars burst through the darkness because they are the only light out here in the jungle night.

And tonight is our last night in western Uganda. Tomorrow morning we return for ANOTHER long drive on dusty “dancing” roads as our optimistic driver and guide, George, calls them. We will tie up loose ends and, it is hoped, see Savior and Sanyu one more time before returning to the United States. But I know I will be back to Uganda.

This is not the land of Idi Amin. Nor is it the land of “Raid on Entebbe.” This is not even the land of Kony, the current sinister leader of the LRA. This land is so lovely and varied. Mountains. Lakes. Jungle. Savannah. All flecked with wildlife eager to flourish under the right leader. Mud villages. First class safari lodges. Wood carvings and woven baskets. The best pineapple I have ever tasted. And most importantly, the gentlest, kindest, most generous people I have ever met. This is the Uganda I know to be true. Now.