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In 2012 I travelled to the Jewell of Africa, Uganda. I was part of a group of teaching volunteers, living in the heart of the rainforest, on the top of the mountain, in a hand built lodge over twelve weeks. It was a far cry from my tiny village of Markfield in rural leicester, but it was both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. The stories I had heard about Uganda and the Joseph Kony rebels; the stories of Idi Amin, the Ugandan President who was equivalent to a mad king; proclaiming himself as the uncrowned king of Scotland; Otherwise known to the people as the “Butcher of Uganda”; terrified me. I had only heard terrible things from this part of the world and for some reason, this was where I wanted to lay my hat for the next three months. When I arrived at Entebbe Airport, I was hit with a wall of heat from the east African climate, and I had images of the Palestinian Front Hijackers guarding hostages running through my brain as I made my way through the passport control and baggage collection, always reminding myself of the danger I was in. I had only made contact with one of my team leaders, Tom, over email before arriving, so I had no idea what they looked like, sounded like, and for all I know, it was a trap... or so I had myself thinking all the 8 and half hour journey over. Once I had my bags and changed my four hundred Pounds Sterling into a million Ugandan Shillings, I walked through the arrivals and seen a group of small, tall and lanky light skinned people at the end, ultimately assuming one of them was Tom. I briskly walked over to them, shook hands and I asked, “Is one of you Tom?”, they smiled and said, “You must be Joe”. They explained to me that no one had ever not spoke to them over the phone before meeting, and found it, in their words, “crazy”, that I would fly half way around the world to Africa, to meet someone I had only had a couple correspondents with over email... it set up was to become one of the most fantastical trips I’ve ever been on. It was a world I had never even dreamed of before. Gone was the thoughts of rebels and hostages, but replaced by dancing and singing, food and bottles of beer by the lake, bungee jumping and white water rafting down the Nile. It was magical. We spent a week and half travelling to Kanungu, our home for the next twelve weeks. Once we arrived at the lodge, we were greeted by the staff, we had a cook, Dennis, a caretaker, Muhammad, our teaching mentor, Gloria and our lodge mother, Patricia. They were the nicest people I’d have ever met in my entire life. We would spend nights overlooking the rainforest, drinking until we passed out around the camp fire and waking up to the most beautiful scenic views. It was incredible. All the dangers I had leading up to arriving, was all but a figment of my imagination now... Until, one night we were visited by a truck full of armed locals. They were police officers armed with machine guns. They told us that they had come to warn the Mzungus (An eastern African term for a white person or rather white devil) about the rebels who were hiding out in the forest below. Suddenly the fears came back and the dangers became very real. We were told that the rebels were on the run and that we should alert them immediately if we see anything. I could not sleep for the next week. This turned out to be lies made up by a jealous local, who had made up a story about his neighbour being part of a rebel army, hiding out in the rainforest. The danger was over, and I was returned to the magic that was, Uganda. I will always hold the country and people close to my heart, and I’d return in a heartbeat. Don’t let a prejudice stop you from experiencing life’s most wonderful places.