Flag Day Nostalgia

For the first time in many months I find myself getting through my blogroll quickly, easily catching up with the new postings most days. This probably has a lot to do with the fact that I spend some days in yoga pants and don't leave the house (hey, it's cold outside, and I'm on Congressionally-mandated home leave, which I sometimes interpret literally).

Anyway, I've been branching out to new blogs thanks to Life After Jerusalem and Subject Verb Object and their amazingly comprehensive blog lists. A few of the new ones I'm reading are from newly-minted FSOs and EFMs, just out of A-100 and Flag Day and still in training for their first posts. (The two today are Adventures in the Foreign Service and a B, C, D Adventure - you can tell I'm going in alphabetical order.) Reading them has me reminiscing back to those heady first days in the FS when there were so many unknowns, and everything was shiny and new. I like to think I'm not completely jaded these days and still find a lot about the FS shiny and exciting, but I definitely have lost some of that initial OMG-ness that comes with A-100.

I'm preparing to give a presentation on my FS life and travels at my grandmother's senior living community next week, which is also getting me to do research on places I've been and remember stories I've not thought or talked about in a while. Which gives me pause to remember how amazing the FS really is and how much I've seen/done/accomplished in almost five and a half years.

I spoke on the phone today to a college senior who is considering a career in international affairs and possibly the FS, connected by her aunt who works at the aforementioned senior living community. She had great questions and clearly had given a lot of thought to what to ask me that would help guide her next steps. I'll tell you what I told her - and what I tell everyone who asks, and some who don't: take the Foreign Service Officer Test. It's free, you can take it once a year, and one of two things will happen: you'll pass and get a chance to move forward in the process, or you won't pass but will learn what the test looks and feels like and be better prepared to retake it next year.

A lot of people put a lot of effort into preparing for the test, and for some that works. For me, though, I do much better when I don't over prepare. Read up on current events, brush up on international history and U.S. pop culture references through the years. If you need to study, study the thirteen dimensions that guide the selection process and what your chosen cone looks like. And be able to match your own experiences to the thirteen dimensions and your cone and be able to give specific examples. Careers.state.gov is among the best study guides out there.

All right, back to nostalgia. I like it. I can remember my own Flag Day and how much I was sweating in my suit on that hot August day in the FSI Fieldhouse (I believe Flag Days are now held in the newer, better-cooled K building). Never in a million years did I think I'd be assigned to Jeddah, though when I look back at it there was a moment in my CDO interview early on when my CDO asked if Jeddah met my preferences. I said it did and that I wouldn't mind it, but I never really thought that would translate into getting the Saudi flag a few weeks later. In an example of the small FS world, my first CDO is now a CON chief in NEA and someone I will be working with closely in my next job.

I love reading Flag Day stories because they're all unique but all so much the same as well. Most people are excited - either because they got a top choice and/or because they finally know where they're going after so much uncertainty. It's a bonding experience for an A-100 class (as is every other moment of those six weeks, but still). And it's something that every FS generalist and specialist (I think?) has in common. If nothing else, you can make small talk about Flag Day. There are few moments in life with such complete, but highly anticipated, surprise (maybe finding out the gender of a baby at birth, though few are able to resist the temptation to find out earlier these days, or where a medical student matches for residency) that have such a profound impact on your life. And for that reason I think the Flag Day tradition is pretty darn cool. I, for one, never get tired of reading/hearing about the stories. What about you?

More DC Fun

Most of the DC touristy things I did during this round of training were while Dad was visiting, but I did get to do a few more fun things. Shopping, of course, was one of those: Trader Joe's, Whole Foods, Target, Crate and Barrel, the Container Store, Origins, Leesburg Outlets, and even the rundown neighborhood Safeway were all havens of post-tour bliss.

I didn't get to all of my favorite food haunts, but I did get plenty of pho, pad thai, pizza, and other goodies Uganda didn't offer (or didn't offer tasty versions of). Thanksgiving was catered by Whole Foods, which is apparently a very 'in' thing to do, judging by the massive lines to even enter the parking lot and then to collect one's order. It was yummy, a relaxing day was had by all, and plenty of TV was watched (including the parade!).

What else? I made a few trips to the Mosaic District in Merrifield, taking advantage of a lovely spa there, a very nice nail place, their Sunday farmers market, the Angelika, and - of course - Target. I met colleagues for dinner at Pentagon Row and enjoyed a bit of shopping there as well as watching the ice skaters on the lovely rink.

D and I went to the Spy Museum one weekend. I hadn't been there, and I needed to buy 'spy stuff' for my nephew for Christmas. I don't think he quite knows what a spy does, but he knows he wants to be one. And the Spy Museum is a perfect place to load up on tools of the trade for an eight year old. We also saw Rosewater at Landmark Cinema (interestingly, since the last movie I'd seen in the theater prior to that two years before was Argo).

I didn't do a whole lot of cultural outings in DC, but I did attend an entertaining ballet performance at the Kennedy Center - the Suzanne Farrell Ballet Company. It was a nice mix of traditional (Swan Lake) and more contemporary pieces, which I enjoyed. I also went to see the Celtics play the Wizards at the Verizon Center, springing for seats pretty close to the court. Before the game I enjoyed Shake Shack for dinner and wandered through the downtown holiday craft fair, which had some really nice stuff, including jewelry I couldn't resist. The game was incredible - midway through the third quarter the Celts were down by 21, and people started leaving. The Boston bench came back and tied the game and forced not one but two overtimes! Boston ended up losing by one point - it truly came down to the final buzzer - but I wasn't too upset, since the game was so phenomenally entertaining. A great show by both teams, for sure.

Let's see. That may be it. I was only there a little over a month, so I did get a good number of fun events in. I think I already blogged about FS Blogger dinner #1; I also organized FS Blogger dinner #2 with Kelly from Well That Was Different, Nicole from Kids with Diplomatic Immunity, and Gretchen from Texpatica. Such a fun night of Thai and talking.

And, the best news: all of my purchases added up to 246 lbs, which was perfect for my 250 lb UAB limit! My car was not overloaded for the long drive to NH for home leave. Well, it was pretty loaded up thanks to all the Christmas presents and cat paraphernalia, but it wasn't overloaded.

More on Christmas in NH coming soon!

DC with Dad

This fall I had just six weeks in the DC area to indulge in favorite sights, foods, friends, and fun. I was in training all day every day during the week but still managed to fit in some wonderful fun. First up, a visit with my Dad!

My dad brought me my car from NH when I first got to DC and stayed for a week to soak up history, culture, art, and fun. His stay coincided with some spectacular weather, and we had a great time seeing some new to both of us DC staples. On Saturday we headed to the National Museum of the American Indian, happily visiting on one of the days they were celebrating Day of the Dead. We were treated to some amazing displays of art, singing, and dancing while there. The cafeteria was quite busy and tasty, but I think it was too busy to be truly enjoyable that day. I'll have to go back and choose my foods based not on the shortest lines but by what sounds best.

We walked along the Mall a bit before heading back to VA for Dad's inaugural trip to Wegmans. It was lovely to be back at this oh glorious of food emporiums. We picked up assorted goodies and had a quiet night in. On Sunday we woke up to a power outage, which I realized wasn't as convenient in Uganda as the generator didn't automatically kick in. Luckily the power came on during our outing to Safeway and we were able to get in showers.

First up was a trip to Eastern Market and a wander through the stalls followed by brunch at the Boxcar Tavern. I had bought timed entry tickets to go up the Washington Monument so we headed back downtown and strolled among the Sunday sports leagues and enjoyed that wonderfully DC spectacle. After a visit to the WWII Memorial it was time to go up the monument. Neither of us had gone up before, and it was lovely to see the view of DC from that high up! My favorite part, though, was seeing the commemorative stones placed by various cities, states, and countries from the elevator down. So neat, and something you can't see from outside.

After that we visited the Holocaust Museum, always a somber look at a painful time in history. I hadn't been since high school and, especially having visited Auschwitz since my last visit, it was interesting to better understand some of the exhibits and put them into greater context. The collections (non-permanent) included video segments from Darfur and Syria, both current crises/genocides, depending on how you define them. I won't try to do so here. But seeing some of the footage from refugee camps in Uganda and knowing I'll soon be in Lebanon, these really hit home. We definitely don't always learn from history.

During the rest of the week Dad and I had dinner with my aunt and cousin at a lovely Balkan restaurant in Eastern Market, and D and I introduced him to the wonder of Pho 75. He's a fan of both. On his own that week, while I was at work, he managed to take in the Botanic Garden, the National Gallery, the Museum of American Art and the National Portrait Gallery, National History Museum, most of the monuments - including MLK Jr and Einstein - and the Zoo. Quite a full week; his FitBit was super happy with his walking and gave him uber badges all week.

DC has long been a vacation destination for my family, since we have had family in the area since I was in high school and then with my going to university there and joining the FS. Next time I'm there for any length of time my parents intend to both come and stay for a while. The museums and sights never get old, and there's always something new to see and do (and eat).

Keep Calm and Save Diplopundit

Most Foreign Service bloggers and much of the FS community are avid readers of Diplopundit's truly impressive blog. Unfortunately, Domani Spero will be forced to put down her pen at the end of the month as what started as a hobby has turned into a full-time unpaid job. Which is, of course, unsustainable. Fundraising efforts in the last year haven't been lucrative enough for the blog to keep going, and the post we all dreaded about the blog going black went up last week.

Enter an intrepid FSO who started a Go Fund Me campaign to save Diplopundit (thanks for this post's title goes to said FSO). In just two days more than $10k of the necessary $30k has been raised. This is tremendous and illustrates how important Diplopundit is to the entire DOS community. So let's keep up the momentum. Please take a few moments to give whatever you can to save this informative, well-researched, and entertaining news source. We may not always agree with Domani Spero, but her efforts to keep us in the loop of the good, the bad, and the ugly are unparalleled.

Keep Calm and Save Diplopundit!

Edit: as of right now the total raised stands at $19,972. Let's bump this up to $30,000 in the next couple of weeks! Please donate if you haven't already, and spread the word. The FS can't lose this valuable resource.

Home Leave Begins

Let's see if going backwards gets me blogging more regularly!

After a whirlwind and absolutely wonderful seven weeks of training, I am finally home in NH for home leave. I'm sitting in the kitchen at my parents' house, one cat curled up by the woodstove and the other surveying the veritable buffet of birds at the backyard feeder, spectacularly visible against the snow. Don't worry, these are strictly indoor cats, so no birds will be harmed this home leave.

My friend D, of so many Uganda adventures, was in DC at the same time, and she very kindly offered to supervise my UAB packout on Thursday while she had a free afternoon and I was a prisoner of FSI's 100% attendance policy. That's a little harsh since I really enjoyed my FSI classes, but let's just say the contracts with the moving companies being restricted to work hours M-F makes it very hard on single folks, especially those whose consultation days were frontloaded and reserved for actual consultations.

Anyway, the entire pile of UAB must-gos fit, and then the entire pile of if-possibles also fit, with a few pounds of spare for wrapping! I was ecstatic. I proceeded a lovely FS blogger dinner with Nicole, Kelly, and Gretchen at a favorite Thai restaurant with a big sense of relief that my car wouldn't be packed to the gills.

Friday evening D came over to help me pack the car, which went much better than expected. We got 90% of the stuff packed that evening; I just had to add the cats in their carriers and the last couple bags. Easy peasy. Then a final goodbye and a good night's sleep.

Saturday was a perfect day to drive up the East Coast - 45 degrees, sunny with scattered cloud cover, no precipitation, and - most importantly - no traffic. I made it home in nine hours exactly, which was not a moment too soon with two very unhappy traveling companions.

The cats settled into the house with familiar ease, having lived here during a previous home leave and recognizing my parents who they'd seen in the previous months. They spend their days busily exploring every nook and cranny, gazing out the many windows at actual views that a fourth floor apartment with a concrete balcony doesn't offer, and learning the wonders of the warmth of a woodstove.

I'm enjoying not waking up to an alarm (except this morning when I forgot I still had it set to 6:00 on M-F) and general relaxation. I'll ramp up to visiting and shopping and making plans in the next couple of days, but it's quite enjoyable to just being for the first time in many, many months.

Back to the US of A!

I've been back in the United States for a whirlwind two weeks; it feels like an eternity, frankly, since so much has changed in my life in that time. My last week in Kampala was a lovely way to leave - an appropriate amount of frantic-ness, a gradual winding down of work, two last game nights, eating my favorite dishes at the Embassy's world-class cafeteria for the last time, reassuring my increasingly-nervous cats, and completing the always-arduous check-out process.

There were a few stressful moments surrounding my evaluation and crates for the cats, but it all came together. I did end up buying two new crates as I decided the cats were just a little too big for the ones we had. Of course I couldn't decide this in time to purchase new crates through a reputable U.S. supplier, so I had to look on the local market. I found a great crate at the USPCA (albeit at an exorbitant price) and a sub-par crate at a local store (Game), also at an exorbitant price. I doctored the sub-par crate with the help of a neighbor and his drill so I could add in a million zip ties for security.

My last day at work flew by and culminated with an awesome lunch with my section, a combination of Lebanese mezze and Ugandan food. It was a perfect ending and not too sad, which I greatly appreciated. I finished up my last few emails, set up my out-of-office message, and took one last look at the section. Then it was time for one last ride in my car before it went to its new owner.

At home I spent the afternoon finishing packing, throwing out the remaining detritus of the last week, and prepping the cats' crates. Callaghan had moved under the couch on Wednesday and didn't seem to have come out much at all, so I was worried about him being dehydrated. I put water under there with him, but no dice. I had to move the couch and surprise him in order to get him in his carrier. Griffin, on the other hand, practically walked into his without any coaxing.

Motorpool was on time, and I got everything loaded and the keys turned over with no issues. Callaghan snapped out of his trance on the way there and started protesting which was, frankly, music to my ears. I had been afraid he'd just give up and not have the will to make it through the trip, so feisty was good. Traffic to the airport wasn't bad, and the expediter met us there to help with the cats.

Going through the first security screening wasn't too bad as they did a physical inspection of the crates so I didn't have to remove the cats (worry #1 eliminated). The price for the cats was $100 less than I'd anticipated, so that was a bonus! Check-in took forever, but I appreciated that they took their time to make sure no steps were missed. The cats each got their own porter and came with me through immigration. We said goodbye outside the gate, and the expediter went to the plane with them and watched them get loaded. He came back and found me at the gate afterwards and confirmed they were safe and happy, which I greatly appreciated.

Boarding was on time, and we took off a few minutes early. The flight attendants confirmed the captain was aware of the cats and had the cargo cabin at the right temperature. I didn't sleep much on the flight thanks to my seatmate who liked to elbow and kick and flail. We arrived in Amsterdam a bit early, and I headed to the transfer service desk to check on the cats. They weren't yet at the pet hotel but had been unloaded from the plane and were with the right people (and both alive, very important to know).

I indulged in a massage to soothe my tired-from-traveling self and then wandered and window shopped and grabbed something to eat. Then it was back to the transfer service desk to check on the cats. The pet hotel folks confirmed they were there and smiling. I didn't believe this last part but appreciated the inclination to soothe me. I settled down near the gate and took advantage of the free wifi until boarding. The boarding gate was way too small for the size of the plane, so I stood while waiting to board, knowing it was another eight hours of sitting ahead of me.

Boarding was on time, but there was a wait to take off, and it was clear we would arrive on time but not early. I finished watching The Fault in Our Stars, not a great choice on the plane since I was sobbing at the end (just like I did reading the book!), but oh well. I had started watching the movie on the previous flight, ending as the characters were on a plane landing in Amsterdam, as I landed in Amsterdam. Fascinating coincidence. The lunch meal was surprisingly tasty - meatballs with mashed red cabbage - and I watched more movies. Sleep was just not happening.

We landed on time but of course had to take one of the ridiculous people movers to the arrivals hall. We arrived at the same time as all 600 million other international flights that day, so the lines were horrid. They were worse in my mind than in reality as I was through in about thirty minutes, but it was still frustrating. The greeter guy did welcome me back home when he saw my dip passport, which was sweet.

I made a beeline for our baggage carousel and saw the KLM baggage desk with a large dog crate next to it and, thank goodness, two cat crates. Two identical cat crates. Which was not what I had put on the plane in Entebbe. But they were indeed my two cats inside them, and they seemed none the worse for wear. Both cats greeted me and purred and rubbed against my hand, and I truly relaxed for the first time in a week. I asked the desk attendant if she wanted to check my claim tags to prove ownership; she didn't. Griffin's crate had a note on it that his sub-par crate had been swapped out in Amsterdam. Stellar customer service, I tell you.

One of my bags came around the carousel quickly; the second one never did. It wasn't until about twenty minutes had passed that they made an announcement that a lot of bags from that flight had been moved to the side to make space. Sure enough, there was my bag. Then the challenge was getting a porter to help us get through customs and to a taxi. This was, amazingly, the hardest part of the whole day. 600 million international flights at one time, remember?

Finally someone came to help me, and we headed to customs. I have never in my life stood in line for customs in any country. Especially not for thirty minutes. There was no distinction for goods to declare or not; it was one massive line. When we finally reached the front of the line I told the CBP guy that I had live animals; he didn't blink and asked if I had wet food for them. I said no, he waved us through. Amazing.

There was no line for a taxi, so I loaded up into a waiting SUV and was on my way! The fall colors were at peak, and as we wound through the NoVa neighborhoods I was struck by how neat and pretty and clean everything was. Definitely a culture shock.

We arrived at the apartment building and unloaded. Check-in was fast and friendly, and the cats and I were soon home. I unpacked the boxes I'd sent ahead of time with cat litter and food, etc. and let the cats out. They both went straight to the water bowl and drank and drank and drank. I refilled it twice that night.

The rest of the night was spent unpacking and repacking (for a week-long training trip to another state the next day) and ordering in delivery and watching tv and relishing in being back. Both cats were very cuddly and enjoyed snuggling that night. The next morning I couldn't find Callaghan; twenty frantic minutes later I realized he was inside the suitcase under the bed. He spent most of the day under the bed, probably having some transition issues, but came out about an hour before I had to leave to cuddle. I left him on the bed on top of a t-shirt I'd worn, which seemed to soothe him. D said he spent the next day on that but finally warmed up to her and was back to normal by Monday afternoon.

Whew. That's a lot of writing for a blog post, so I'll leave it there. Next up - DC explorations interspersed with long-overdue safari posts.

Updates Coming Soon

I never meant to fall so far behind on blogging, but it has been a busy couple of months. I have so many stories to share, from East Africa safaris to PCS updates to DC exploring. Last night I met up with the lovely ladies of Tuk & Tam, SubjectVerbObject, and Novakistan, and that was the inspiration I needed to get even this short post up.

I'll write a detailed travel post soon, but - spoiler alert - the cats and I made it safely to DC with all our baggage. I took off for training in another state the very next day and then had an awesome visit with my father, so this is my first 'free' weekend since getting back to the United States. But I have plans to see friends each of the next several days and look forward to lots of catching up and lots more luxuriating in being in DC. I have ambitious plans to make it to Trader Joe's, a farmer's market, and the outlet mall in the next few days, but I may just do some get-over-jet-lag sleeping in too :-).

That's all to say that I hope to make use of the next few months and get caught up on the blog! For now, here's a couple gratuitous cat photos, taken by my awesome friend D who moved in to my apartment while I was away at training to ensure Callaghan and Griffin made a good transition.

He is actually a very happy and loving cat, but his facial expressions don't always match his personality.

Callaghan has adopted this scratcher as his new bed.

All is right with the world :-).

Reflections on a 'Zen PCS'

It's eight days until I leave Kampala. It seems like just yesterday I was brushing off remarks about leaving soon saying I still had eight months. It's harder to do that when you can count the days on your hands.

I'm sitting in my living room surrounded by cats and boxes. The movers did an amazing job yesterday on my storage shipment, and they've been similarly great today. In an hour they'll be back with the scale and crates, and it will all be on its way. The cats are, per their usual, going with the flow, though they have been pretty freaked out by the noises the movers make. The cats have been spending the days in the comfort of a locked room with their litter box, food, water, and a dwindling number of toys. No toys left now, though the boxes seem to suffice. They slept last night on the tower of flat, empty boxes lined up waiting for today.

A few months ago, while watching several friends and their frantic PCS preparation, I decided I didn't want that this year. PCSing sucks enough as it is without the extra anxiety, and I decided then to try for a 'Zen PCS'. What this would look like/entail wasn't entirely clear even when I first envisioned it, but I decided to do as much as I could to control what I could control and not fret over things I couldn't. Eight days away from the end I can't say I've been entirely successful with this approach, but this conscious decision has definitely helped my attitude overall. As has the occasional Nyquil on the nights I can't fall asleep thanks to a racing mind and seemingly endless to-do lists.

I just paused to let GSO in to deliver the welcome kit. I am actually excited because it includes an AFN box, and I haven't had AFN or DSTV in almost a year. So television will be fun this week! Plus the whole kit is brand new, and I saved a few things from my bed that I'll donate when I leave, so I hope to get some decent sleep this week even with the welcome kit stuff.

There have been definitely been some panicky moments along the way, most to do with travel orders and flights. I reserved my flights (and space for the cats) in July, but my orders weren't cut until mid-September. In the middle of this GSA awarded AA/BA the contract for the city-pair fare between Entebbe and Washington, DC. If I was going on home leave first it wouldn't matter. I'm not. So I had to shell out an additional $600 just to be able to fly KLM. That hurt. It doesn't count the $900 it will cost for them to fly (thanks to a long layover in Amsterdam I need to pay for the use of the pet hotel). Pets are oh so costly to move, but it's so incredibly worth it.

I didn't get any bites on selling my car until very recently. Luckily I think I have a buyer; just need to sign the contract, take payment, and give over the keys. This could have been a super anxiety-causing process (especially after I watched D struggle with this until the day she left, finally selling at a loss to a non-diplomat, which meant the buyer had to pay mega taxes; I did NOT want to have to repeat this), but it looks to be working out.

My driver has several jobs lined up that should amount to full time, and I have a lead on a job for my housekeeper. So that's one less thing to stress about.

I spent much of June and July prepping for packout and doing lots of purging. I'm so glad I did, because it meant I didn't have to worry about it while my mom was here or stress about it in September when I was acting section chief and had many, many fires to put out. This was where the zen approach really came into play - I decided to do as much sorting/purging as I could but to ultimately let things happen as they might. This took a lot of pressure off, mentally, and let me enjoy the process. Well, enjoy as much as one can enjoy such a thing. But I did have a good afternoon taking apart my television and electronics and boxing it up. That made me feel like I was accomplishing something! Several local and U.S. holidays helped me not stress out in the final weeks - extra time to get ready without losing my weekends entirely.

My big fail was with consumables. I brought/ordered way too much and couldn't use it all, even with several weeks of 'creative' cooking. I have learned a lot for next time, when I'll stick to liquids and know I can order dry goods as needed. Luckily my neighbors were willing to take all of the extras off my hands and redistribute.

This brings me to the hardest part of leaving. The people. I was very sad this summer to say goodbye to good friends and colleagues. And, as always, some awesome new people moved in, including into my building. The new neighbors have been kind enough to include me in weekly game nights, which has been amazing. I am so sad we've had such a short time together. This is almost always the case, but it sucks nonetheless. Such is FS life, and I know our paths will cross again.

I'm very sad to leave my section and my colleagues, even though I'm mentally ready to move on. The past few months have been quite stressful at work, for many reasons. If you've read news about Uganda in the past month or so you may know some of this. Disengaging is always hard, but it has to be done. I'm getting there. I have a full week of work next week to check out (mentally as well as actual paperwork!) and finish any last-minute things I forgot to tell people about. It's always fascinating to see that - while your own world is completely upended by a PCS - things just keep chugging along at the Embassy. Perspective, folks.

Anyway, the movers will be back in a few minutes, and I need to herd the cats back into a locked room. For the last time. Lots more last times to come this week. I'll try to keep channeling zen. And, overall, this PCS has been fairly smooth. Things always fall into place. How much effort I put into worrying about how/when they'll get there doesn't affect the end result. And I feel like I've done a decent job minimizing said effort, racing mind at bedtime notwithstanding. And that, dear readers, may be the key to a Zen PCS.

Bwindi Gorilla Tracking

I didn't sleep well at all the night before tracking, for a number of reasons. I was worried about Mom (though she slept soundly through the night, thankfully); I was worried about how I'd do the next day on the trek; and the bed was supremely uncomfortable and tilted. We woke in the am, and Mom felt well enough to eat a little breakfast and attempt the trek. We ate and made sure we had everything and then loaded into the car for the (thankfully) short ride to the tracking starting point.

In preparation for this trek I've been really stepping up my workouts since January, working out religiously 4-5 times a week to try and build strength and endurance. While I'd done a lot of resistance work on the elliptical and steep inclines on the treadmill, I hadn't, though, been able to do any hiking. I learned very quickly that I was not in nearly as good shape as I had hoped. Even the 15 minute hike from the car park to the briefing point had me a bit worried. I relaxed a little when our driver said all the gorilla groups were pretty nearby today and they didn't think we'd have too long a hike. There were 40 of there that morning, eight each for the five gorilla groups available for tracking at Rushaga. We had asked for the easiest group, but I think those requests are pretty much ignored - I don't know anybody who's ever gotten what they requested, easy or hard. The rest of our group were from various European countries. One couple was staying at our lodge, and the other three ladies were backpackers who wanted to finish as soon as possible so they could head back to Kampala for an early morning flight the next morning. We were assigned the Mishaya family, introduced to our guide, and M&D and I hired porters to carry our bags and help with the steeper parts of the mountain.

By 8:30 we were off. We were starting from nearby so hiked to the beginning of the trail and were off. It was straight uphill - albeit on a beautiful, wide, well-maintained trail - and we went at way too fast a pace for me for 15 minutes. At the first rest stop the guide explained we'd hike at the pace of the slowest member of the group (me). So I reluctantly took the lead. We kept going uphill for about an hour, taking more breaks than I think the Europeans would have liked. The trail finally evened out a bit as we got toward the top of this mountain, and I was able to go quite a ways without stopping by this point. We reached a crossroads and stopped. All along I'd been asking our guide if the trackers had found them, knowing that if I knew there was an end point I'd be more motivated to go on. He finally said we'd rest here because the trackers had found the gorillas' path and weren't far from us.

I sank onto a log to rest and relax and breathed a sigh of relief. They weren't far! I had done it! Yes, it had been hard, but I had done it. It was only 10:00 - we'd be home by early afternoon! Oh, if only.

After 30 minutes our guide said it was time to go. They were about 30 minutes from us. He had me get in the lead, and we headed down. Not down the nice trail, but down the side of the mountain. The extremely steep mountain, machetes blazing a trail as we went. Down was technically tricky but not terrible. But as we kept going farther down, I started to panic about having to go back up again. Fifteen minutes passed, twenty, thirty, forty-five, and we didn't see or hear any sign of gorillas or trackers. Then we started to go back up a slope. At that point the guide sensed by frustration and let everyone else go ahead of me. That made me feel better since I didn't feel I was holding anybody up. But as we continued to go up through thick forest (they don't call it Bwindi Impenetrable Forest for nothing), I couldn't focus on gorillas. All I could focus on was having to get off this mountain after we found the gorillas. This was when I started to struggle mentally and began to think I couldn't go on.

In addition to our guide and the three porters there were two armed guards - one police, one from UWA. They were there to assist in case we encountered unhabituated gorillas or forest elephants or chimps, but they also helped blaze trails. My porter and one of the guards were with me with everyone else up ahead and out of eyesight. We were now climbing over, under, and through very thick trees and bushes, and it was extremely muddy and slippery. I was starting to doubt myself and losing balance. I was just about to give up when I heard a sound. A gorilla! I mustered some more strength and moved on. At this point I could only climb about 10-15 feet before taking a break to reassess footing and catch my breath again, so it was slow going. It was noon, ninety minutes after we'd started down the side of the mountain. Now I started to panic that I'd miss the hour we were allotted because everyone else was with them and I was so far behind. I found out later that the rest of the group wasn't nearly as far ahead as I thought, and the guard/porter just kept telling me they were already at the gorillas to try and motivate me. Which had the opposite effect because I couldn't get anybody to tell me how much farther it was, and I was frustrated. I do well with numbers. When I run I count strides/minutes to the next interval. In Zumba I count steps/beats. On the elliptical I count revolutions. It helps me pace myself and motivates me to keep going. So when the answers to my questions were "not far" or "just a little bit" I started to lose it. I think this is when I started crying a bit. Thank goodness this is about the time the brush started to thin and I saw the rest of the group. At almost the same time I saw my first gorilla - a little baby boy of 18 months - and started to cry harder. My mom caught my eye and came to give me a hug. I told her I had no idea how I was getting off the mountain. She told me she loved me and we'd do it together. And then she pointed out the silverback.

And then, for the next hour, I forgot about the trek and how tired I was and how scared I was about getting back out. And I was able to enjoy the moment. Which was, it must be said, pretty darn spectacular.

An encounter with the gentle giants that are the mountain gorillas can't be explained in words. You're face to face with animals who share an astonishing amount of DNA with you, and you start to realize what an amazing privilege it is to spend an hour with them.

We were tracking the Mishaya group, which has one silverback, Birungi, seven females, and two young ones - the 18 month old boy and a three year old girl.  At first only Birungi and the baby were really visible. We could hear some of the others around us and occasionally caught a flash of black, but it was extremely thick brush.

By this point the rangers were seemingly so happy that I'd made it that they were helping to make sure I could see and take photographs. One of the rangers beckoned me away from the main group. I followed him, ducking under some brush and not sure where we were going. Then he stopped and pointed, and I looked, and I was face to face with a female gorilla sitting in the middle of a cleared path. She was probably fifteen feet away and sitting in the middle of the path, munching away on greenery. Another, smaller, female came over to join her for a bit. I was still the only one from the group in the area. Finally the two females wandered off. The ranger led me a little farther toward where they had been so we could look at the silverback and baby. The brush was pretty thick, and so the ranger started using his machete to cut a little bit away so we could see. Birungi took exception to this and started to get up and charge toward us. The ranger was between Birungi and me, and I think the movement was more a warning than true aggression. Mom and D asked me later if I was scared, and I really wasn't. That didn't really even enter my thoughts.

I rejoined the group and had to maneuver a little harder for good views. We watched the little baby swinging in the tree and teasing his dad - pulling his hair and making branches hit him. Birungi wasn't even a little fazed. He laid down on his side for a bit, which was a great opportunity to see his hands and some of his other features that had been masked by the bush. I know everyone always says it's uncanny how alike gorillas and humans are, but until you actually see it I'm not sure you really 'get' it. Or at least I didn't. Baby boy was quite a ham and showed off for us. I took a great photo of Mom looking at me and the camera with the baby in the background. I call it the best selfie ever, even if it's not quite a selfie. I don't get selfies. I mean, I get the concept, I just don't get the appeal. So maybe that's a poor comparison. But it's a great photo!

Birungi got up started leading the family a little farther away, and we followed. He stopped again and was joined by the larger female I'd seen earlier. The 18 month old - who never strayed more than a few feet from his dad - sat in between them. And there the three sat for several minutes, a sweet little family lineup. I don't know if that was his mother, but it was still lovely.

After a while Birungi moved farther away, and we followed at a respectable distance. Several family members, including both young ones, followed closely. Then Birungi chose a female - and I'm still not sure which one, because all I could see of her were her feet - and began mating. The rangers told us this was rare to see, and we were very lucky. The session was quite long and not particularly interesting since all we saw was Birungi's back and the female's feet and some slight movement. What was fascinating, though, was watching the little ones. The baby was in front of Birungi most of the time, presumably feeding, and we didn't see him at first. The little girl, though, was quite hilarious. She lay down on her stomach facing her dad and watching, seemingly rapt. She wasn't eating, just observing. At one point she had her head propped in her hands, elbows on the ground. At one point the baby boy seemed to emerge from in between the mating pair, prompting giggles and jokes about a quick pregnancy. He then sat down and picked bugs off his dad for a few minutes. The girl finally turned on her side, facing us, and I was able to capture some of the best photos of the day. 

Birungi eventually finished and started to move on. His pace was quicker now, which was fascinating because this is when the rangers said our hour was up. For the entire hour the family had stayed pretty close by, not moving all that fast. Now, though, they seemed to know their human interaction for the day was done, and they moved off into the forest. We watched them go, sighting one additional female who had been farther away and who now walked past us following the rest of the family. And that was that. Amazing.

Now the panic set back in. How on earth was I going to get off of this mountain? I was not in any condition to go back the way we'd come. The rangers told us they had a shortcut to the trail, only ten minutes of uphill through the bush and we'd rejoin the trail and have lunch. We set off, me back in the lead. That didn't last long, as I felt extra pressure going first, and I asked for the others to go ahead again. By this time the adrenaline was starting to wear off, my feet were starting to feel blistery, and I was exhausted. My balance was declining steadily, and I needed to stop more often to regroup and plan my next steps. This area was even more slippery than some of the earlier paths.

The rangers tried to keep my mind busy by talking about life in the big city (Kampala) and exclaiming over what we'd just seen. I appreciated their efforts but was focused on not falling off the side of the mountain. Finally I could see more sunlight and knew the trail was ahead. I made one last push and emerged onto the large trail, exuberant and so incredibly relieved. The rangers were whispering excitedly and pointing down the trail. At first I thought they were pointing at the rest of the group, but it was actually a duiker that had just popped out of the bush. It's rare to see these shy antelopes, so I like to think it was rewarding me for making it to the trail!

I rejoined the group and sat down to eat lunch. I found out that my 45 minutes of going uphill had been only 5-10 minutes behind everyone else. So. yeah. Not ten minutes to the trail. At this point I knew that it really was, literally, all downhill from here, and I finally relaxed and started to reflect. We were all still in happy shock by what we'd just experienced, and it was fun to start recounting stories. After we finished eating we repacked our gear and started down. It took us only about 30 minutes to make it down to the briefing station, where we arrived just as it started to drizzle. Our guide met us there with hugs; he'd been in phone contact with the rangers and knew we'd had a tough climb.

I had heard before that we'd receive a certificate from UWA, but I'd forgotten, so it was really sweet to have a little 'graduation' ceremony with the rangers and porters. We generously tipped them and headed to the car. I am completely serious when I say I wouldn't have made it without them.

We headed back to the car, drove back to the lodge, made it to our rooms, and collapsed. Mom and I managed to get our icky hiking boots off before needing to get our feet up. We eventually took turns showering - though the poor water pressure made it very hard to feel like we got any of the dirt off - and then just laid on our beds listing off the litany of aches and pains that were starting to appear now that the adrenaline was well and truly gone.

Tracking the gorillas was by far the hardest thing I've ever done physically - and, because of that, one of the hardest mentally as well - but I am so thankful I persevered and completed the trek. What an amazing experience, one I'll treasure forever. And while the trek was incredibly difficult - don't get me wrong - I think a big part of my struggle was not getting accurate answers about distance to things. Anyway, there are some pretty amazing stories to tell for a long time to come about this day!

I've consolidated some photos into collages below. None of the scenery pics accurately depict the difficulty of the terrain or the steepness of the mountain, but it does give a glimpse into the impenetrability of the forest. I have hundreds of photos with only small glimpses of black among the green; these are some of the best in terms of visibility.

More posts on the rest of the trip coming soon; it's been quite busy since I've gotten back, but I'm plugging away. This one was by far the hardest to recap, and I fear I haven't done it justice. As more occurs to me I'll try to insert updates.