Travel days are an interesting concept on the World Race. And, yes, by concept I mean they are pretty abstract as far as the word “day” is concerned. Really travel DAYS are more of a hoop-dream. A notion that if realized, results in some major celebration.
I woke up while it was still dark Sunday morning, glanced at my watch and my heart dropped. A few explicit words were muttered as I scrambled to untangle myself from the bug net that had been tucked neatly around my mattress the night before. A person's true colors are revealed when they realize that they woke up 20 minutes AFTER they were supposed to meet their team for travel. I always wonder why I set my alarm to wake up a half an hour before I need to be somewhere, when in reality, as I realized that morning, I can get ready in a matter of seconds. Praying that I didn't forget anything, I rushed out to meet the team running as fast as one can with a gigantic backpack, a guitar, a overloaded purse, and a bag of food.
All 7 of us piled into a van with all our gear to travel 2 hours to Kampala where we were supposed to catch the 7am bus…remember I was already late when I woke up, so the entire bumpy van ride was spent trying to rationalize what we would do if we missed our bus. I am not sure how the shocks are still intact as we hit every speed bump and pothole, as well as managing to get pulled over once by the local police. Apparently it is a common thing to get a ticket, because our driver did not seem too upset.
We pulled into the bus station with 10 minutes to spare and jumped out, throwing our stuff on the sidewalk, 3 Ugandan men met us sweeping our 50 lb packs onto their shoulders (3 at a time) and thankfully helped the sleepy-eyed, incompetent white people find the correct bus.
7 am we loaded the bus thankful to have made it on time… at 8 am as we were still sitting in the station, we realized that we never needed to worry about being late. At 9 am we wondered if we were on the right bus. At 9:30 am we decided to ask when the bus was actually going to leave (turns out 10:30 am was departure time). At 10 am we called our contact, discovering that he thought we were coming tomorrow and at 10:45 am we pulled out of the station… ready or not, here we come!
I made a friend during the 8-hour bus ride to Rukunjiri. A little boy about 5 or 6 years old sat behind me sticking his little hands through the back of the seat, poking me in the armpits, playing with my hair and stroking my neck or arm. At first, it was precious and we spent a good deal of the journey playing peek-a-boo through the slots of the chair, peeking back and forth, until the bumps on the road were a little too much for my stomach to handle. After 3 hours, he got a hold of a straw and spent the next hour poking at the back of my neck and after 6 hours, it was nothing more than a gentle massage. Ah, patience, the lesson that never relents.
At every bus stop, vendors would run up to the windows offering the most necessary of items that one would want to purchase while riding a bus. I could have bought goat meat on a stick, grilled bananas, or corn on the cob and even had a fair selection of shoes to choose from. At one point I could have bought a Thermos or a set of pots and pans. We instead bought some fruit that I have never even heard of before, and some bread for a fair price thanks to our friends who warned the vendors not to rip off the mzukus – all with out ever having to leave my seat!
Arriving in Rukunjiri, we stumbled off the bus, in hopes that we were a.) at the right place, and b.) that our contact would remember to pick us up. They arrived in no time gathering us up and taking us away to our home for the month; quite the classy place if I do say so myself. As we pulled up, we were excited because we thought we had the whole yard to camp in. When we found out we were allowed to go INSIDE, we couldn't believe our luck. THEN we discovered we had several ROOMS to choose from- World Racers are very easily pleased.
This month we are working with the local and a health clinic, talking to patients and cleaning (I am avoiding the room with the needles). Lucky for us, we can get tested for malaria whenever we please, so bring it on mosquitos! It is blessedly cool and beautiful, which means I can go back to my routine of drinking multiple hot drinks per day and only sweat on occasion.
Here's sending love from Uganda!
