gulu: part 1 – car trouble

I don’t even know how to start explaining the day that I had today. It was one I will never forget.

Last night, Kate and I moved into Eugene & Glenda’s apartment one floor up and on the opposite side of the block. They left for Florida that morning. Eugene was offered the position of Watoto US Director and after 3 weeks of praying and talking with KPC Leadership, family, and close friends, they accepted. They had been preparing for their 3^rd tour with the Watoto Children’s Choir with plans to leave in September, but all of that has changed. The sudden move was a surprise to many of us, but I know that Eugene will do an excellent job.

After a late night of packing, moving, and re-packing, we woke up early and met up with the rest of the group that was traveling to Gulu. Kate and I decided the night before that we would take my car and follow the bus. This decision turned out to be somewhat disastrous. You’ll learn why as I continue the story of this fateful day.

We headed out and the bus, after taking us in a few circles, stopped to fill up. Kate had been hinting at her desperate need for coffee, so we took the opportunity to run to a nearby coffee shop. A few short minutes later, after our impressingly speedy trip for breakfast, we returned to the gas station… almost. As I was about to make a U-turn to return to the gas station, something quite abrupt happened. A boda-boda [aka motorcycle taxi] ran smack into the right front side of my car. Thankfully, he didn’t have a passenger and wasn’t too badly injured. Still, not exactly the best way to start off the day. His bike took the brunt of the hit and thus lost a few parts. I pulled over and Kate got out to talk to the boda man, naturally drawing a crowd of curious passers-by. They came to an agreement, we paid up, and that was that. I was a bit shaken up, but calmed down soon after. We made our way over to the gas station and the arduous journey to Gulu began.

An interesting thing about the journey from Kampala to Gulu is that, despite being a mere 350 kilometers [250 miles or 3-4 hour drive in the States], it is an all-day ordeal. The road to Gulu is a rough one in many senses of the word. Endless potholes. Road construction. Clouds of dust. Crossing livestock. One thing that particularly bugged me along the way was the list of signs that say how many kilometers are left until Gulu. 215 km…. Then 194. Then somehow it miraculously jumped back up to 200 km. Either we did some backtracking I wasn’t aware of or the person putting the signs up didn’t bother putting them in the right order. Stupidity or apathy? You decide.

The trip was going fairly well with an occasional stop off for some street vendor goodies [people would run up to the bus or my car offering anything from goat meat on a stick to bananas to boiled peanuts] and one stop for the “bathroom” that was actually just a hole in the ground with 4 walls around it. These are known as ‘pit latrines’. Nice name, eh?

Kate took the wheel and we were off again with many more hours ahead. The road became particularly bad with a series of large potholes and an endless stream of dust clouds. Often times, it was actually better to drive with one wheel off the road than on the road itself. Here, see for yourself:

There was a large cloud of dust behind the bus we were following and a brick wall appeared seemingly out of nowhere and ripped a huge gash in the front left tire. So, Kate and I agreed that we were even. “This trip is getting more expensive than we had anticipated.” Again, I’m very grateful that the damage wasn’t worse – no one was hurt and, after a bit of digging around for the right tools and borrowing a spanner from a passing car, a couple of guys from the bus managed to get the tire changed in about half an hour. Check this baby out:

I decided that it was best for me to drive since it was my car and ultimately my responsibility, so I jumped back in the driver’s seat. We made it the rest of the way without any more hiccups, although there was one point where a police car zoomed up behind us with its lights flashing and all I could think was, “What now?!?”, but it was simply a procession of cars that needed us to pull over so they could speed on by. I’m still not exactly sure what the deal was, but I just hope they didn’t hit any potholes or speed bumps at that insane speed.

Upon arrival into Gulu, we stopped for a bite to eat and then visited KPC Gulu, a church plant that launched last August. When we got to our hotel [a brand spankin’ new hotel called Florida Hotel] I practically passed out as soon as my head hit the mattress. When I finally came to, I showered up and met with the group across the street at Kope Café [pronounced ko-pay calf-ay]. Kope Café was started by Westerners and supports the HEALS play therapy project for war affected children. It has a great atmosphere and fabulous food, but it definitely functions on African time. So, if you ever visit Kope Café, don’t come too hungry. I ordered an African tea [so absolutely amazing] and hung out for a bit – then, I discovered the art board. It’s a device to keep you occupied while waiting an hour or so for your food. It’s a stone tablet of sorts with a paintbrush and water. You paint water onto the surface and the surface darkens where it gets wet. After about 20 seconds, the water evaporates and the board is dry and clear once again. I seriously want one.

Part 2 of this journey coming very soon… stay tuned.

 

~ by sydneyberry on June 26, 2008.