At 30 years old, with no promising marriage and family life in sight and a looming, unstable career path, I couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of failure clinging to me as an adult. In such situations, it is only logical for a sane person to regroup and plan accordingly. But my recent coping mechanisms - overworking, avoiding social interactions and self-loathing just don't work any longer. I could barely contain my own madness to move forward.
One day, I just had enough and decided to put everything on hold for a week to breathe. Booked a flight, got the travel vaccinations, and secured the e-visa. After a 2-hour delay plus a 5-hour flying time, I finally started my journey in the Pearl of Africa - Uganda. Backpacking is one thing. But to top it all, I am blindly attempting the summit of Mount Elgon, the Wagagai Peak at 4,321 MASL. If I was a failure in life, perhaps I could excel in my element—hiking. But with no prior training and the rainy season looming, I questioned my sanity in attempting such a feat. Who was I kidding?
"Slowly putting my foot one over the other, I am huffing and puffing for every ten steps. Forget about the peak, I only want to reach the next giant groundsel to provide enough shade for me and get some rest. How many more breaks will you take? Paul, my ranger guide, asked me. And with that, even in the mountains, I felt such a failure once more. Is this the time to turn back now?" - Rochelle
A stroke of the Ugandan's Hospitality
With only 3 hours of sleep, I entered the aircraft and found my window seat. However, a beautiful young lady wearing a black hijab refused to give up my own seat. Resignedly, I took the middle seat, while a muscular (likely) Ugandan man occupied the aisle seat. Once everyone settled, an announcement was made that there were two unidentified bags in the cargo hold, causing a slight delay. An hour passed, then two. As the delay extended, I couldn't help but think, "Is my streak of bad luck beginning?"
Upon my arrival at Entebbe Airport, I was expecting an angry driver because of the delay but instead, a smiling gentleman named Mr. Farouk greeted me. Our drive to Kampala brimmed with captivating discussions on Ugandan culture and tourism, the Eastern Region, and Mount Elgon. He generously shared tips on navigating Kampala, particularly regarding pickpocketing. We finally reached my hostel and he even charged me less than our agreed amount.
A glimpse of the city through the eyes of a local
Despite my exhaustion and the delay, I attempted to cancel my Kampala Guided Walking Tour politely. Instead of canceling, my guide Fridaus graciously agreed to meet two hours later, to ensure I had time to rest. I requested the tour to be done in a nutshell to respect her Iftar time, but she still went above and beyond. We went to see the monuments, the local markets, and the Old Taxi Park, and we parted ways at the Khadafi Mosque. Without me even asking, she arranged a boda boda (motorcycle) driver to safely escort me back to my hostel, preventing any potential scams.
Long day it was, Kampala wasn't as bad as I thought would be. Sure, I felt the weight of Ugandan stares, and navigating through Owino Market, the vendors' aggressiveness took me by surprise. There are the occasional curious touches too, which I was assured were non-sexual. Despite all of that, the stroke of the Ugandan hospitality kept me safe and sound. And I'm left wanting more.
Drifting between dreams and reality on the way to the Eastern Region of Uganda
With no luck of getting a sim card in Kampala, I embraced the Wabi Sabi moment during the 4 hours drive to Mbale. One minute I'm watching the bustling local markets, the next I’m dozing off with my Osprey Ace as my pillow. All of a sudden, the vibrant red soil of Uganda was no longer in sight.
The matatu (local minibus) is now driving through the Mabira Central Forest Reserve highway, spanning approximately 300 square kilometers. The highway is lined with countless trees on both sides of the road and is followed by tea farms. Following shortly is the cable-stayed Jinja Nile Bridge, connecting the Central Region to the Eastern Region of Uganda.
As we got closer to Mbale, I found myself drifting between my dreams and reality, both literally and figuratively. Disconnected from the online world, I was forced to sit through my thoughts, sorting through them with a tinge of fear, pondering their urgency and priority. One question echoed in my mind: "Am I escaping reality or creating my own?".
Interrupting my internal panel discussion, I reached my destination and was dropped off by the roadside. The man behind Mount Elgon Trekkers, Mr. Ramazan, finally greeted me. After purchasing some snacks, rain boots, and a brief tire repair, we picked up Mr. Sudi, our chef during the hike, and Ms. Sarah, both team members of Mount Elgon Trekkers. Then, we set off for Bududa, a town scarred by the devastating 2010 landslide and bordering Kenya.
A night in the town of Bududa in Uganda (but close to the border of Kenya)
A warm welcome awaited us at Riverine Resort, where I was introduced to the resort staff namely Edwin and Claire. Dinner was served, featuring Matoke (Plantain Banana) & Chicken Stew, my first taste of a Ugandan dish. Savory and tender, it is similar to Afritada, a Philippine dish featuring chicken and potatoes. After that, we called it a day.
Journey to the summit of Mount Elgon through Bushiyi Trail in Uganda
The revving engine of the boda boda came to a halt as we reached the ranger post where the actual hike would begin. Everybody is gearing up - the chef Mr. Sudi, the ranger guides Mr. Paul & Mr. Andrew and the porters Mr. Myko & Mr. Ivan. As for me, I put on my rainboots and told my stomach to stop churning. Let the hike begin.
Forest after forest, slippery and muddy and steep. It's definitely not always rainbows and butterflies. I even sent a text message to my roommate in Dubai saying:
"I'm not sure why am I doing this. My body is struggling and I can feel that I'm in no condition at all. I want to go home now."
Because really, I could have chosen a vacation filled with coffee and croissants or sushi. But of all my choices in life, I opted for sweat and tears and physical discomfort. After 9 hours of hiking on the first day, I'm satisfied with how resilient I was even though deep inside I was worried as hell about what's about to happen tomorrow. I decided not to dwell on it, at least while watching the sun go down.
At 3600 MASL, the highest camp I've ever been to, I was rewarded with a colorful show from the heavens. The horizon slowly swallowed the sun and left me with a vibrant orange glow. The clear sky spewed the light blue color and it goes darker little by little while the moon and the stars comes out one by one. The thin wispy clouds danced in the sky until the horizon pulled the orange glow completely.
Summit Attempt to Wagagai Peak of Mount Elgon in Uganda Side
Just like that, the sunset show is over and I'm back to overthinking. Mr. Paul approached me and laid out a plan for our attempt tomorrow. We will start the hike at 5 AM which is quite late already compared to my summit attempts of Mount Apo in the Philippines and Komsomolets Peak in Kyrgyzstan.
Slowly putting my foot one over the other, I am huffing and puffing every ten steps. Despite diligently managing my lung capacity and nutrition, the effects of high altitude are now evident. Yet, we still have a long way to go. Despite my eagerness to move faster, I find myself unable to do so as if the time is warped - I was stuck at the same pace as when I started.
(Giant Groundsel)
Forget about the peak, I only want to reach the next giant groundsel to provide enough shade for me and get some rest. "How many more breaks will you take?" Paul, my ranger guide, asked me, adding an unexpected layer of pressure. But Mr. Andrew's comforting words "It's okay to go slow... because if we rush, we crash" kept me going. It's the most comforting phrase I've ever heard through my journey in Uganda.
Even while enjoying the paradise (mountains), I couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy because of my sluggish pace. Is this the time to turn back now? If I was able to endure 14 hours of hiking since the first day, surely, I could push for another hour to reach the summit. So the answer is no. 100 steps, then a rest; 50 steps, then another break; 30 steps, and another pause. And there it was, standing before me—just five more steps, and finally, I made it to the summit!
Backtracking my journey in Uganda
After spending a good 5 minutes at the summit (it was so windy and cold and I couldn't stay much longer), we started our descent. I've backtracked my whole journey in Uganda - from the campsite to the ranger post, the Riverine Resort in Bududa, the town of Mbale, and the slow six-hour bus ride back to Kampala delayed by heavy traffic.
During the long journey on this day, I can’t help but ponder and reflect on how Uganda, in its own way, challenged my perception of failure.
The curious boda boda driver who asked about my choice of Uganda over other African countries. The innocent smiles from young kids as they waved and greeted me while our boda boda whizzed past their schools. My imposing ranger guide asking me about my love of forests and mountains. The happy families (kids included) trekking into Mount Elgon National Park with laughter and songs, similar to a day at an amusement park. Even the bus driver, who refused to believe me of my nationality until presented with my passport, yet ensuring my safety as I disembarked at Centenary Park in Kampala by arranging a reliable boda boda.
My Liberation Notes on Humility, Simplicity, and Liberty
Each encounter served as a poignant reminder of my power of choice. To choose Uganda, to study, learn, and grow, even as an adult, my passions and how I spend my weekends and to embrace kindness when it's offered. Choice, I realized, is a privilege—a privilege I have but failed to notice.
As I prepare to wrap up the final night of my journey in Uganda (check out Humura Resorts you guys, it's a cozy oasis in Kampala!), the sudden flood of messages and notifications, delayed by poor signal, jolted me back to reality. There's still no promising marriage or family life on the horizon, no clear career trajectory in the coming months, and no fortune to speak of and the feeling of failure still lingers. Yet, amidst it all, I find a newfound conviction - not born of success, but of humility, simplicity, and liberty. And with that, I redeemed myself from the trappings of this cruel world.
