It's been hard trying to decide what to
write about for a new blog post. I decided a few days ago to read through some
of the journal I had kept while I was in Uganda and one thing I wrote about, in
great detail, was the 8-hour drive to Gulu from Entebbe and the daily 1.5-hour
drive to Abaana's Hope. Now when we first found out that we would be on a bus
with no A/C for 8 hours, I was not looking forward to it. But when the time had
come and the drive began, I never wanted it to end. It was nothing like driving
for 8 hours here in America, for two main reasons.
First, it was a new experience. Driving
through a country I'd never been to before and looking out my window at the
culture I had never seen close up and the landscapes I'd only seen in pictures
was amazing. There was so much to look at- too much to try to look at by the
time we had passed. We went through some busy cities, like Entebbe, and we
passed numerous small towns and several tiny villages.
I had never been to a
place like this before (of course, I'd never been out of the US) and everywhere
I looked there was something new to be seen. For 8 hours straight I looked out
of the window of a moving bus and absorbed as much as I could, taking hundreds
of pictures. Shacks made from metal sheets, pieces of wood, boxes, pretty
much anything you could think of. Animals tied to shrubs on the side of the
road. Men sitting around a “table” talking and staring as we drove past. They
looked stern and hard, but if you smiled or waved, their face would turn into one
of the most beautiful and genuine smiles you’d ever seen. We saw women with a
baby strapped with 2 cloths to their backs, carrying a jug or bundle of
something on their heads. Children everywhere. Rolling old tires on the ground, walking with cattle, carrying Jerry Cans bigger than themselves, babies carrying babies, some young boys riding bicycles with bundles of coal or straw attached to the back. My favorite part was waving and smiling as we passed a groups of kids and them smiling and waving back. Some would giggle and squeal at the sight of a “mzungu” (white person) and others would chase after the bus yelling, “Mzungu! Mzungu!” or “Muno!”
Second, driving in Uganda is nothing-
NOTHING- like driving in the States. Our drive started with smooth, wide roads,
but ended with nothing even close to that. The farther north you drive, the
poorer the villages get, and the smaller and less-paved the road becomes. When
there’s a narrow road in the States with no clear lines for 2 lanes, what
usually happens is one driver waits while the other passes… Not in Uganda. Here’s
what I wrote in my journal that night after the long drive,
“The roads went from being a little
bumpy to being a crazy, bouncy, jolt-you-back-and-forth roller coaster. Rather
than 2 paved lanes it was as if they paved straight down the middle in 5
minutes for the whole road. Potholes were any- and everywhere and the side of
the road was a huge drop with jagged edges. This wouldn't be so bad, except
Ugandans drive nothing like Americans. Rather than slowing down and taking
turns, they keep their speed when there is oncoming traffic. The drivers flash
their lights in a way signaling each other to move. The person who gets to
drive on the paved part is determined by who gets there first. The other car
runs off the paved road mere inches before hitting the oncoming car and is sent
on a bouncy, loud flight, almost hitting the bush, until able to hop back on
the road. It is terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.”
We experienced this kind of driving the
whole way to Gulu.
I remember my mom asking how the drive
was and I told her “I’d do it again right now.” Of course, she thought I was
joking, until I told her how different and exciting it was.
The 1 and a half hour drive to Abaana’s
Hope (and back) almost every day was similar as far as the potholes and bouncy
ride go. It was still the rainy season when we were there, and when it rains,
it pours. The dirt roads become big muddy lanes- “muddin” in Alabama has
nothing on “muddin” in Uganda. If you wanted an even crazier experience, you
sat in the back of the bus (the drive is not
very enjoyable when you’re feeling nauseous or sore).
Our wonderful bus driver, body guard, and friend- Andrew |
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