Romanticism (Part III)

After a roll and cup of coffee, I left the convent by taxi at 6am sharp to take the 7:30 bus from Kampala to Arua, a border town located in northern Uganda. Driving along, was the most beautiful sunrise I had ever seen! Bright and pale yellows, with hints of red that turned almost the entire sunrise pink…Gorgeous!

GAAGA Uganda (Bus Trip)

People crowded closely around the bus (myself included) waiting to register and load our luggage. To the surprise of everyone (especially the manager of GAAGA Bus Lines) an entire crate of tomatoes lay stashed inside the luggage compartment. No idea why or how? Perhaps the owner of the hundreds of tomatoes was hoping to find a better market up north? After much conversation, several men began to remove the crate. It’s a miracle that it was ever successfully placed inside; upon removal of the crate, half of the tomatoes had fallen out and rolled down the muddy streets of Kampala.

As I was forced to elbow myself in line to find my seat, I ended up quite comfortably near the aisle at the front of the bus: Seat 12. Before leaving Kampala, our driver reminded all passengers to remain respectful of him and others, “Please don’t yell at me if I make a mistake when driving, I’m human too and we all make mistakes.” He also reminded everyone of the routine inspector who would be boarding the bus somewhere along our route.

There were two young men in charge of taking tickets and alerting passengers of stops along the way. One of them gave me a little black plastic bag and told me that it was for emergencies. Just as I began to wonder what I had gotten myself into, people on the bus began to pray. Yes, pray. One of two young men led the prayer: “Lord Jesus protect us on our journey, keep our travels safe and thank you Lord for all that we have been given this day.” Then everyone on the bus greeted and shook the hand of the persons we were sitting next to and we pulled out onto the busy streets of Kampala (experiencing more of the same crater-sized potholes and one-hour traffic delays).

Over the seven hour bus ride, we pulled briefly to the side of the road at unannounced villages. Those whose destination it was had about a minute to get off the bus before the driver took off. We also took a short five minute break to purchase food and use the restrooms. I was told to by other volunteers to avoid the public bathroom if at all possible. So that’s what I did. Instead, I visited with a few passengers outside whatever Ugandan village we happened to be in.

Soon I was completely surrounded by children selling Coca-Cola, Fanta, Water, BBQ chicken on a stick & live chickens, which if we did purchase had to be kept in the luggage compartment under the bus. The possible fatality of the chickens would not be the responsibility of GAAGA. Many of the children lingered, incessantly asking me to purchase something, at that moment I was noticeably the only white person on the bus. The BBQ chicken smelled absolutely amazing, but keeping in mind the little black plastic bag I was given, I chose not to indulge my craving for fear of an even longer afternoon journey.

One of the passengers I was sitting next to works for the Ugandan Elections Committee. He is traveling to his district of northern Uganda to prepare for the Presidential Elections which take place one year from January. It was a nice conversation, but I did struggle in not asking obvious questions: do you find the elections fair? Is democracy successful in your country? Do you believe Museveni serves the people of Uganda before himself? You know, obvious questions that in the US anybody can ask of President Obama.

Trying to not make this blog a platform for my political viewpoints, the peaceful and democratic elections that have kept Museveni in power for more than two decades does lead some to question. The recent attacks in Uganda during this years’ World Cup may not have been caused by the Somali terrorist organization (al-Shabaab) as so many of us were led to believe, but rather orchestrated by a powerful, persuasive, and manipulative dictator seeking to establish assured victory for his upcoming elections. Then again, I don’t want to make this blog political. But if you’re interested, you can do some more research. Attacks against the rising class of educated young Ugandans, not only kills civilians, but destroys the future generation of one country’s leaders.

We arrived at our final destination in Arua Town, Uganda. The town itself is very developed, as someone pointed out to me the hospital, city bank, and Makerere University buildings. I had enough time after getting off the bus to worry if the Sisters in Aru received the message that I was coming today. After a while, two sisters arrived speaking no English and I of course still struggle to speak comprehensible French. (Refreshing my high school French in Rome, where I was surrounded by Italian, was not easy.) After a short stop to purchase 25 gallons of paint for the new convent, we headed for the Uganda/DRC border.