July 24, 2025
After breakfast we picked up Zachary at the military base and then drove to an area with a large open savannah. Zachary, Bob, Ella, and I got out of the jeep and started a walking safari and nature walk, something I am sure we would not have dared to do on our own (or without Zachary's rifle).
It didn't help that they first thing we came across was this:
One of my favorite African trees is the Candelabra Tree, a succulent that Zachary warned us not to touch as its sap can be a poisonous irritant. It stood out, not just because it was the only tree around, but because it didn't look like a typical leafy tree. There is no softness about this tree. Its sharp spines testify that it can survive the dry season. It also seems ancient, and it has the aura of an archetypal sentinel standing in the open cathedral of the savannah.
We came across a large herd of grazing Cape buffalo that took a special interest in our tiny group of four people. One rifle is no match for a stampeding herd of Cape buffalo, I thought to myself. But Zachary didn't seem to be at all concerned.
WE were concerned, however, or at least a trifle nervous. They kept inching closer and closer to us, and the only tree within running distance was that candelabra tree with the poisonous sap and spiny leaves!
Another skull? I think this one used to belong to an eland, an antelope common in the Kidepo Valley.
On a trip to Zimbabwe in 2019 during our very first walking safari, we had a National Geographic Moment as we sat hidden in tall grass and watched a tower of giraffes emerge one after another from a dense stand of trees not far from our hiding place. On this walking safari in Uganda, we watched a single Ugandan giraffe (previously known as a Rothschild's giraffe) on the far horizon gradually make its way towards us. It was not quite the same experience that we had in Zimbabwe, but it was still a magical moment. We were completely exposed to the giraffe--no tall grass to hide in--and it generally kept its gentle face turned towards us as we came nearer to each other.
This video gives a good idea of how close we got to each other.
He posed for one more photo and took a final look our way before turning and striding away in the uniquely slow motion, rhythmic walk peculiar to giraffes.
Leave only footprints, right? That's just what he did. Note the size of the giraffe's hoof compared to Ella's foot. The print is a little smaller than her shoe, which is surprising for an animal that is almost four times as tall as she is!
In the wide-open savannah, everything is bigger than it seems. Take, for example, this tree on the left. It looks big, but in comparison to Bob (right), it looks huge!
Or look at that big rock in the pond in the center of the photo below.
Seeing these animals that we usually see only in zoos or coloring books or photographs roaming free in their actual habitat just never gets old.
We had one more major experience in planned for the day, a trip to a native village in the hills of Kidepo NP and very near the South Sudan Border. South Sudan, by the way, achieved its independence from Sudan in 2011. It shares a 300-mile-long border with Uganda, and although the two nations are technically allies, relations are not always friendly.
But the village we visited was not part of the violence, and we found it to be loads of fun. Our village guide was this man with the awesome Boy Scouts of America shirt complete with a patch from the National Capital Area Council of Washington, D.C., no doubt a Goodwill donation that found its way to clothing distribution centers in Uganda. He also had a wonderful hat that reminded me of Dr. Seuss's Cat in the Hat.
I just can't get over how the children care for the babies!
Why not these older children instead? Maybe they are expected to work in the fields.
There certainly is substantial work to be done in fields!
The Kidepo Savannah Lodge, in spite of my denigration of its tent cabins, was really a beautiful place. It was well-maintained, had wonderful, helpful staff and generally good food, and the scenery was pretty spectacular.
And who needs electricity when you have nature's light show?
I have no idea how many people live in this village of round buildings topped with thatched roofs--maybe a couple hundred based on what we saw. Our guide told us that marriages usually occur between those living in adjacent villages, keeping the bloodlines relatively closed.
As far as we could tell, there was no electricity (no power lines) and no modern tools (in spite of the modern shirts that almost everyone wore--more Goodwill clothing).
The beautiful children were by far my favorite part of the visit. We saw many like this little boy, by our standards not nearly old enough to be in charge of a baby, carrying a sibling on his back.
The children were shy and didn't speak to us, but they would pose for photos. I'm sure they are well-accustomed to the requests of strangers to take their picture.
Our guide took us inside one of the mud-walled huts to see what living here is like. I'm guessing this is one set up for tourists. There is a long stone "table" with depressions used for grinding grain.
Our guide described their effective storage system, which included storing barrels of fermented juice, and showed us the strips of bark that serve as beds.
Grain that has been dried in the sun will be ground into flour and stored. The village is self-sufficient, growing and processing all of its own food.
This group of women appear to be taking a break in the shade. What is the young boy on the left of the group thinking about as he looks at us with our white skin, fine clothing, and fancy phones and cameras? Where will he be 20 years from now?
On our many trips to various African countries, we have seen that the small indigenous villages like this one often follow the same pattern for tourist visits. They assemble a group to do some kind of musical and dance performance . . .
. . . and then invite you to wander through their "shop" of handcrafted items.
There were only a few other tourists visiting when we were there, so Bob, always such a good sport, accepted the invitation to join in the jumping. (He comes in at about 2:50.) I think this jumping thing is really a Masai tradition, but other tribes have learned that tourists enjoy it.
Oh, the children! Their skin is such a rich, dark color that it is hard to see their facial features
I just can't get over how the children care for the babies!
We passed this sign as we left the village. Similar to several other signs we had seen in the rural areas of Uganda, it describes projects being completed in these areas with the help of worldwide organizations.
It was heartbreaking to see this sign at the bottom, knowing that the Trump administration abruptly cut most of the funding provided by USAID to Uganda in early 2025. NPR notes that Uganda is one of the USAID beneficiary nations that was hit the hardest by this action. The cuts led to the closure of HIV/AIDS programs, shortages of HIV, malaria, and TB medication, heightened Ebola risks, increased food insecurity and malnutrition, lack of funding for educatoin in remote areas, and weakened health systems in general, not to mention the cessation of projects like this one to build a military base in the area for security purposes.
We have so much. The $307 million we are no longer providing to Uganda is a drop in our financial bucket but was of enormous benefit to them.
Well, time to go back to our tent-cabin and get ready to leave in the morning. We tried to put some of the skills to use that we had seen all over Uganda as we transported our goods from the jeep to our room.
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