The Thrill of Bungee Jumping

“I’d rather be scared to death than bored to death”

To take the jump or not to. This is how life has been lately as we battle every day situations and shenanigans in a crazy world. After a catastrophic week mired with anxiety, mild depression, zero motivation and whole days spent sleeping. I needed a push, a shove and a shrink who i found in my friend Adrian(Jack of all trades this one, same guy who did photography for my Airbnb listing). Not shocking since he hates my guts and  is not a professional counselor, Adrian advised me to go jump to my death. I cant believe i trusted this man’s discernment but i half decided to go Bungee jumping the following weekend.

I have been to the world renown tourist destination Jinja several times with family and friends, camped at the Nile and i always pass through it between home and Kampala. It is fun but there are those few seconds i always craved for. Those few seconds on the Adrift Nile high bungee. To suggest it to the parents would be like signing up for parentlessness and impromptu burial arrangements just like i waved off my rights to sue Adrift just in case something went wrong.

I have always known that am manically fearless and daring with my love for contact sports and trouble at school but jumping from one of the most spectacular 140ft high bungee in the world is something else.

A few years from now i will not be able to tell how i got up there but i hurriedly and fearlessly got up there with no second guessing or contingency plans but i guess this was partly induced by the the strict no refund policy in case one got weak knees and peed themselves.

Being a long time coming, i had to savor this moment,  while walking up the steel platform that soars over the cliff that towers over the deep fast flowing river Nile i looked down, i looked him in the eye. Though i highly suspect its a her since it involves risking it all and diving  into waters for a thrill that lasts seconds.

Prior to the decision to do the jump, one particular detail stood out being which diving pose i would use. Would it be the grand old pool dive, the superman flying pose, the Neo flying pose from the matrix or maybe the naked man stance. While up there I was shown into the ‘kings seat’ so called maybe because it has been sat into by greats including prince William and others who have taken on the ‘ultimate personal challenge’.  Here attention to detail was key as i was  strapped so hard at the ankles and at the waist area it left a humongous organ print on my khaki pants(exaggeration here for personal reasons). The bungee safety guy appropriately donning a t shirt with the words “id rather be scared to death than bored to death” pointed out the safety features perhaps in a bid to make sure i did not change my mind or because he has dealt with lots of back to back safety questions from scared patsies and sissies. Then under strict instructions i hoped to the edge, crossed the cord that separated the jumper from the safety guys which really made me feel like i was  in that situation where you are making a bad decision alone and the separating code was to make sure  you do not take anyone else down with you.  I still had my everything together standing on the edge, i was able to wave to the camera and  with the wind howling i heard loud mumblings with a barely understandable count from the safety guys as i jumped with the superman stance into the air. It felt like an unending jump into a bottomless pit in a dream, adrenaline at its peak with nothing to hold on, seeing nothing but green and blue then suddenly i felt a pull upwards and that’s when i felt saved and had to  soar like a kite in the sky. The upward bouncing ans swinging happened several times as i barely heard the  stewards calling on me to hold the oar so i could be lowered into an inflatable boat.

I Finally found the only thing that lasts shorter than sex or an mixed martial arts fight but more dangerous and exciting. I vow to do it again.

I was so exhilarated by the whole experience and relieved this moment again and again thanks to the great in-house photography and my resilient Sony xperia ray video recording. This is also when i found out that instead of looking like superman taking a jump, i looked like the drunk looser Hancock.

 

 

 

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#UgHacks: How to hook up with a muzungu without being a rasta

So you are an average male Ugandan who likes to keep his hair short and neat, you prefer your jeans clean when you put them on, you are not into weed and smoking, and although we are all black, you have a lighter skin complexion and you have a real job so you cannot hang out at bars everyday. how are you going to compete with the Rasta who are everything you are not for a muzungu lady?

First what makes the Ugandan Rasta the bazungu ladies men is a mystery but we won’t delve into that. though i think it is the dreads, no. maybe the fact that they do not discriminate by age. or they are more Ugandan than the rest. mystery? so to have it easier just be a Rasta.
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But for one who sees this unfairness where if a muzungu is dating a Ugandan girl, they date the best of them preferably a model. Then when a Ugandan man dates a muzungu….all hell breaks loose but i do not want to offend anyone. so i think we need a meeting with the Rasta community because they are the majority of people setting these unfair standards.

Enough of the Rasta.

Given that there is currently an obsession about dating light-skin chics in Kampala,  if someone turned up with a white chic, competition would be dead. he would win the competition without lifting a finger.

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Now from Ug-Hacks here is how a “not-a-Rasta” guy can turn up with a muzungu babe.

Join Aiesec:this students organization is responsible for a good percentage of the datable white females who come to Uganda. if you are too old for Aiesec friends. (small shout-out to Joseph and Gerald)
Join an NGO: NGOs are breeding grounds for  bazungu females with good hearts. Keep your day Job and be one of the few Ugandans who volunteer or just be a big time donor. ‘hard paper’ that one but eyes on the prize.

Lastly: leave the tourists bazungu for the Rasta