Still in the game...

Dreadfully sorry about that brief interruption. The Dr took the internet (all of it) with her so that she could work in Kampala the night before she flew to the UK. Unfortunately, a problem with the Cruiser led to the Reverend having to drive back from Kampala (normally a 4 hour journey) at a much slower pace so it took him 8 hours.

The Cruiser hasn’t been very happy recently. Last Monday we discovered that the break pads were worn out. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to repair it before the drive out to the village which led to a very entertaining game of “How few times can you break on the journey?” I managed only four on the way back, three times to drop off people and once when a boda (motorbike taxi) driver decided to pull into the road unexpectedly. It would seem that, in repairing the breaks, the mechanics at the Toyota garage decided to leave a few bolts loose; they obviously appreciate our company too much. Anyway, all of this led to a rather exciting journey today as we took the pickup to the village instead. We squeezed four of us into the front and then picked up two more to sit in the back. This might seem fine, but I had a slightly disconcerting experience with the pickup on Sunday when it failed to climb a slightly sloped, grassy surface and subsequently ran out of fuel (the gauge always shows empty and the speedo doesn’t ever go below 23 km/hr). Whilst driving back, we got pulled over by a traffic policeman, but managed to get away with only a stern admonition to replace the rear right tyre today. In fairness, the degree of snaking and sliding had left me with a similar resolution before he told us to.

Donations for a new tyre gratefully received

Last week was good but tiring. Work was fine, doing random bits and bobs that the Dr needed finishing before she headed off (including a late-night powerpoint assembly on Saturday). Unfortunately, I’d spent six hours of the day at a rather dreary AGM for a local organisation so the additional five hours of scouring for photos made it quite a long day.

So it wasn't all bad...

I had the sense to arrive two hours late to the meeting (10.15), but the Guest of honour was another 90 minutes late (11.45). Due to the time that the oft-favoured ‘Let me read this report to you word by word’ approach that was adopted, when I subtly stole away (well, as subtly as I could leave given I was the only white person there) at 16.15 (before they began the elections that were scheduled to take at least an hour) we were still yet to have lunch. Tragic.

Two hours late is still too early

The sum of my previous exertions has led to not feeling in the pink of health this week. I wouldn’t necessarily burden you with the information of my delightfully runny tummy, except that the joy has been compounded by a day at the village clinic where they only have squatty toilets. These joys, plus a tricky evening (I didn’t mention that I made someone at work cry the other week, great times) have led to some moments of cries of reliance on God, which I guess is a good thing. If I can grab some extra sleep at points this week and maybe have a day of bingeing on a novel, things should return to a more tranquil state.

This may have little to do with the blog, but I thought it was great.
I get to walk past it every day on the way to work.

 Aside from the important relaxation, this week should have a few interesting moments. I’m helping interview candidates for a new enrolled nurse tomorrow which should be fun! I think I get to ask the questions on education, so I’m sure to get lost in the similar but different names of qualifications and grades. I’m sure any awkwardness will help the candidates settle in so I guess I shouldn’t prepare too much. Then I’m set to spend several hours in a bank on Thursday trying to open two free community bank accounts. I’ve spent the past few weeks accumulating the random pieces of paper they want (all of them coming with the all-important stamp of their respective organisations which is seen as a fool-proof way of establishing their pedigree), but part of me is still sure the process will be suspended mid-signing when they notice a spelling mistake in something or other.

Got four guests arriving on Wednesday which should be nice. The older (60’s) of the couples is the family we stayed with in Kampala last weekend whilst the younger couple (late 20’s) were there at the same time. The younger couple both have delightful Irish accents, made even better by the wife being from Germany. Maybe I’ll treat them all to my personally-acclaimed tour of Mbale.

At some point I have to work out exactly what I’m doing with visas and such. The only part of this dilemma I’ll relay is that if I decided to pop to Kenya every three months (as I had before coming) each country will charge me $50 for the privilege which seems a little harsh for a poor volunteer like me. Apparently they’re starting to clamp down a bit on the, “I did leave for a day, can I please come back now?” approach to long term visits to Uganda which makes it more confusing. Part of me thinks being stuck in Kenya indefinitely would be a pretty cool adventure but no one else here has been quite so optimistic so far. Anyway, I’m sure something will have happened by 9^th October. If I stop blogging all of a sudden, I’m in a Ugandan gaol somewhere, being even more adventurous!

#Interesting Ugandan Cultural Observation 1#

So, not only have Ugandans wholeheartedly adopted the “How are you?” thing (including a stock answer of “I’m fine” that is almost unanimous and purely reflexive (something I love to do with the three year old on the compound is relentlessly ask him how he is and bask in the “I’m fine”s)) but they’ve added more polite things to say! Every time you come back from somewhere in Uganda, someone will welcome you back. I first encountered this in my first week when I cam back from a night in the village. I thought it was sweet that everyone was welcoming me back. Then I noticed every day after I got back from work and felt a little less special. The highlight of this is that, even if you’ve been travelling with the person, if they make it indoors before you they can welcome you back. Classic.

I obviously work for the wrong hospital