House fires, bus rides & genocides

Greetings earthlings. So it’s been a little while since my last entry, and what updates do I have? Well, a couple of weeks ago, the house across the road from us caught fire (probably electrics) and destroyed just about everything inside. The house belongs to an American family who were back in the States for a holiday when it happened, which in a way was lucky because no one was in the house when the fire took over. Friends, neighbours and passers-by managed to save most of the stuff in the back office, but pretty much everything else in the house was lost. Including a piano. Sad times. The family are due back in August I think, so they will have to wait til then to deal with all the issues that come along with your house burning down. Not fun!

Okay so my first little trip of recent times was to Jinja to meet up with the other four volunteers who had just been white water rafting. We stayed at a backpackers with an amazing view overlooking the Nile and plenty of monkeys running around. The next morning, Zoe, Grant & Phil headed back to Mbale,while Duncan and I headed into Jinja town for some last minute souvenir shopping before jumping into a matatu bound for Entebbe. The trip was fairly uneventful and we arrived safely in Entebbe and made our way to the backpackers there. Walked into town to get some dinner and ended up wandering around fairly aimlessly, trying to find somewhere decent to eat. After a quick call to Robby to ask about good restaurants in Entebbe, we took a picky to a hotel/inn around the corner that had a recommended restaurant attached to it. Had a chicken Caesar salad, a gin & tonic and apple crumble. Heaven. Headed back to the backpackers on pickies in the dark which was actually the first time I didn’t feel safe, due to the speed we were travelling at and the condition of the road! Still, I survived. Got an early night, rose early in the morning, packed up and were on our way to the airport around 7am. Went to follow Duncan to the check in counter, but the security guard stopped me. Turns out you can’t enter the departures terminal at Entebbe airport unless you’re actually departing. Weird. Said a quick goodbye to Duncan (I cried on the inside) and I was off again. 

Looked for a matatu back to Kampala, but was told that there were none at the airport. Awesome. Asked about public transport to Kampala and the guy told me there was a public bus that was due to arrive soon, so I headed to where he pointed out. Got there and asked an airport worker when the bus was due to leave for Kampala. He replied that it might be a while, “maybe 10am, 11am, 12pm” and it was then only about 7:20am. Yay. He told me I could get a private hire, but I told him I didn’t want to pay for a private hire cause they’re expensive – about 50,000 shillings. He said that he could get me a lift for 1,500 shillings (about 65 cents) so I agreed while wondering how we could get me a lift to Kampala for so cheap. The answer was simple: hitch-hiking. He approached a large 4WD that had pulled up to drop off a passenger and said something to the driver in Luganda. The driver and front seat passenger turn and looked at me a little suspiciously, but nodded at the guy in agreement. The airport worker then informs me that these two guys are heading back to Kampala and will give me a lift for 1,500 shillings. I think, ah what the heck, and get in. As we drive out of the airport I’m thinking in my head “my mum would kill me if she knew about this” (hi mum!). The guys were very lovely though and I got chatting to the driver (the passenger got dropped off along the way) who was a journalist for a local newspaper, covering sports and entertainment. His media pass for the recent Uganda vs Guinea Bisseau soccer/football match was still hanging from the rear view mirror. We chatted for a bit, then he told me that he was heading slightly out of Kampala, so he dropped me on the side of the road where lots of matatus pass by. I went to give him the 1,500 shillings but he said not to worry about it. Nice guy. Sure enough, within about 10 seconds, I was in a matatu, bound for Kampala. About 10 minutes down the road, we got a flat tyre, so we all had to get out and into another matatu and we were on our way again. Arrived in Kampala safely for a grand total of 1,000 shillings. That’s what I call a bargain.

Had a lazy day of eating food you can’t get in Mbale, watching the Hangover 2 at the cinemas, getting a pedicure and browsing the shops. Managed to find a matatu heading near the back packers, which kindly dropped me off at the bottom of road even though I don’t think they were originally going to turn there. Had to get a bed in a dorm as there were no single rooms left, but oh well. Bummed around by myself, read my book, went on the internet and basically wasted time until dinner, then read some more, chatted to an American preacher for a bit, then read some more and went to bed early. Headed into the city centre early the next morning to finally submit my visa application for a UK working visa. Went through all the check points smoothly and all was well until I asked if my bank statements had arrived from Australia yet. They had been posted about 3 weeks back. Turns out they didn’t have them and the print-out I had made from my online account wasn’t official enough. Great. They gave me back all my papers and said to come back when I had the bank stuff. Headed to the Rwandan high commission to get my entry visa for my upcoming trip, feeling relieved that I hadn’t submitted my UK visa application because it would have left me without a passport! Got to the office and was told by the very unhelpful lady there that I need a letter of recommendation from either somewhere in Rwanda or from where I was working in Uganda to apply for the visa. Rang Robby and asked him to write up a quick letter of reference and email it to me, which he did. Asked the lady if I could print off the letter on her computer to which she replied “no sorry, we’re just too busy”. I looked around the completely empty office with a quizzical expression. She replied that I could bring the letter when I or someone else comes to pick up my passport, so I said okay. Then she asked for the processing fee, and I realised I didn’t have enough cash on me. Kill me now. The office was only open for another 30 minutes, so I grabbed a picky and raced down to the shopping centre where I took out cash, printed out the letter and managed to get back with about 2 minutes to spare. Handed in my application and headed back to Mbale on the bus that normally takes 4 hours. Of course this day, it took nearly 5 and a half and I arrived in Mbale in the dark and the rain. With no one to pick me up. Oh well. So that was the end of that trip!   

      

My next adventure was to Rwanda. So I managed to survive the four hour bus to Kampala, followed by the 10 hour bus to Kigali, the capital of Rwanda. Managed to sleep for a decent chunk of the trip, which was a nice surprise! Crossed the border early on Friday morning and after a lengthy stop there, arrived in Kigali mid morning and grabbed some food. Jumped on a ‘moto’ which is a lot like a picky, but the drivers wear helmets, provide one for the passenger also, and they actually have licences to drive their vehicles. Oh and they’re all registered with an ID number on their vest and helmet. Eventually found our way to our destination where we were greeted by the lovely Sara, a Swedish friend of mine who I met at uni in Melbourne, who showed us around her house and settled us into her two spare bedrooms. I think she actually has three.

I won’t go into intricate detail of everything that happened in Rwanda, but here’s a nutshell version – ate Chinese takeaway, went out for drinks with Sara’s friends and met the guy that made the film ‘Africa United’, visited the genocide museum, had a decent coffee, wandered around Nakumatt (a Kenyan-owned supermarket chain) in awe, visited a church where there was a massacre back in 1994 – the clothes (and skulls) of the victims are still there, went to a launch party for a local jewellery line, ate brochettes (basically meat on a skewer) bummed around, tried to speak French, read, slept, felt unwell, felt better again, went to a party of a guy that works for the EU and got drenched in the downpour on the way, met a bunch of expats working in Kigali for various embassies and organisations, and ate really good chips. I like Rwanda. 

Headed back home on the overnight coach which I had been told goes more slowly than the others (which fly around the roads in the dark) and was due to arrive in Kampala at 6:30am, not 4:30am like the other coach companies. They lied. We arrived safely in Kampala at the lovely hour of 4 something, but they let us stay on the coach if we wanted to. And we did. Managed to sleep for a bit and eventually got off around 6:30am, wandered bleary-eyed to the office for the bus back to Mbale and waved goodbye to Phil and my large backpack around 7:30am. Went to Garden City (shopping centre) and had an amazing ‘mexican breakfast’ at Cafe Javas, before heading back to the UK visa office to finally submit my application. Or so I thought. I told the receptionist that I had had my bank statements express posted from Australia and asked if they had received them yet and she gave me a weird look and said that they don’t accept mail on behalf of applicants. Now they tell me. I asked her how I’m supposed to get my statements to them then, and she replied that it can be faxed over. Okay. I ask her what the fax number for the office is. They don’t have a fax machine. Again, they can’t accept mail on behalf of applicants. This information would have been more useful three weeks ago. She tells me I will have to get it faxed somewhere else, so I head to the post office and get their fax number and call my bank. The guy on the other end says he can put in a request for the fax to be sent and put an urgent note on it, but he can’t guarantee it will be done that day (by now it was probably 3pm in Australia). Awesome. I decide to take my mind of the fax that may or may not be arriving that day, by going back to Garden City and watching Pirates of the Carribbean 4. I then return to the post office to find that the fax hasn’t arrived. It’s now around 3pm, which happens to be the time submissions close at the visa office. Urghhhhhhhhhh. After some Google searching, I find a decent but cheap hotel nearby, walk over there (getting lost about 3 times on the way) and eventually collapse onto my double bed in delirious state of frustration and tiredness. The next morning I return to the post office and hallelujah, the fax is there (although without the official stamp), so I return to the visa office…again. This time they actually take my application, so everyone keep your fingers crossed that it gets approved!!    

    

So now I’m back in Mbale and we have recently had two volunteers added to our ranks – Meagan from the UK and Joel who is Italian but has lived in London for the past few years. Now it’s even steven for a little while – 3 boys and 3 girls. Maybe we could start our own Brady Bunch? Tiff is still in the UK having physio on her arm and Jo is preparing to return to the UK indefinitely next Sunday. It’s her birthday tomorrow, so we’re having a bit of a dinner party & movie to celebrate. I’m on cake duty, so wish me luck!

Sorry for the long-windedness of my blog at times, but hopefully it has managed to slightly entertain you in parts, if not kept you up to date with my comings and goings! Thanks again for reading and hopefully by the next time I write, the 40-foot shipping container full of donated goods from the UK will have arrived in Mbale! Let the sorting begin…

Lou :)