In Denial

My brother in law, Mike, and I went white-water rafting on the Nile the other day. Jinja is the debated "Source of the Nile," although a Rawandan will tell you that it starts on the other side of Lake Victoria (But I trust them about as far as I can trow them (which, actually, would proabably be quite a distance)). According to the rafting company, the worst injury they've ever had was a sunburn.... Right. But at the same time, there are pictures all over the camp of rafts travelling vertically down these rapids, as well as an amusing mural showing injured and shaken white folk acompanied by laughing Africans.

So we struck off, and I've never experienced anything like it. We were rafting up to Class 5 rapids (the legal limit) and for the first half of the day, I was saying my Bismillahs all the way. After while though, I was riding high and ready for each thrill as it came. Our guide was this fantastic New Zealander named Kearan (Kearan the Kiwi, I suppose), and miraculously, we were the only boat that didn't flip... but what a ride.

And they were right, I didn't hurt myself, but I burnt my face, my arms, my hands and the tops of my knees, despite all the sunscreen I was slathering on my pastey-white, Casper complexion. Anyone who thinks being Caucasion must be great should try to balance the domination of the global economy against the fact that you might never have had a sunburn, and that when you dance, you probably don't look like a retard.

To see the rapids we were screaming through, check out the company's site at www.raftafrica.net and click on the gallery.

I almost peed myself. Good thing my shorts were already soaked.