Feeling hot hot hot...

After my remarks about how the rainy reason seemed to be progressing indefinitely, I guess it shouldn’t have been a huge surprise when the dry season arrived on Thursday heralded by four days without rain and temperatures making their way toward the mid-thirties. Now that repairmen are confident that the dirt they use to “fix” potholes won’t be washed away immediately, there’s been a brief flurry of throwing mud into holes. Unfortunately, there is a tendency to simply dump all the dirt in the middle of the road that another team will come to spread out the next day. As such, some roads have ended up being less passable.

It's like the answer to a riddle...

In the absence of rain, there have been several more exciting things that have appeared over the last week. On Wednesday I went into town to collect a mysterious parcel and discovered that I’d been sent an advent calendar by Phil, Sammi, Josh and Charis (brother, sister-in-law, nephew and niece). This made quick work of laying a solid and chocolately foundation for Christmas sentiment. The calendar is now in the office at work so I’m embarking on a varied form of cultural education; staff involved so far seem very appreciative.

Ideal

As if this hadn’t been enough for the week (not sure if that implies huge excitement or minimal expectations), I got told on Wednesday evening that I had ANOTHER parcel! After I’d found a suitable excuse to head to the Post Office again, I discovered a Christmassy compilation of contributions from some wonderful friends in Oxford that included food for the stomach, brain and heart and elicited several “Oh, guys!”.

Also ideal

Work over the week went pretty well, made some decent progress with some of the things that are on my ‘Will be summoned back if this is not finished before February’ list. That said, I also spent Thursday morning putting up Christmas decorations at home so I guess it was a bit of a mixed bag. I also got to spend some of the week with Dan’s parents who were over visiting him. Thankfully, Dad liked Settlers so this cut short discussions over what we might get around to. In fact, in a moment of exceptional coolness, we spent some of Saturday afternoon playing poolside Settlers, that’s right!

A final very exciting arrival of the week came in the form of Steve Thomas and Glen who’d been speaking at a Deliverance Church Convention in Kampala, but had then been able to come and see the medical work in Mbale and the village. It was brilliant having them around and was really encouraging to be able to discuss the future of the projects with someone who has been involved from the very beginning. It just so happened that their visit coincided with the Rev Dr’s tea-party to celebrate her ordination to Steve ended up becoming guest-of-honour for the evening. The party was really nice, lots of nice speeches and food. One strange side-show of the evening came from the Dr’s turkey falling rather ill and needing to be killed before it died which people thought would be in the night. So, mid-preparing food for about thirty people, Aunt Grace also got to kill and pluck the Christmas turkey. I did complain about being overlooked, but Aunt Grace said she hadn’t thought I was that keen to murder animals; this struck me as both flattering and untrue. All this party excitement kept me from blogging yesterday which I’m sure has thrown several of you out of your weekly rhythm, so sorry but there was mass-washing-up to do instead (plus ‘tidying-up’ leftover pineapple and cake).

Vis-ta's!

The only down-side of having lots of visitors at once (Ken and Heather also came up) was that I ended up sleeping in the study. After waking up on Monday morning and discovering that my mid-sleep attempts at batting away mosquitoes hadn’t been very successful, I went to bed with Doom (an insect-killing-spray) beside me. I remember wielding this weapon at least twice in the night, but still ended up with about the same number of bites this morning. Good thing I’m on prophylaxis!

Are you sure it’s December?

Despite it being December (and less than 3 weeks until Christmas) I’m finding it a bit tricky getting into the Christmas spirit. I reckon at least half of that is solely from the fact that it’s about 28 degrees here and set to get hotter. The rest is the absence of relentless Christmas marketing, carols, jingles, and the colour red. Plus, it still gets dark at 6:30 every night here so I’m not quite getting the whole winter thing going on. That said, responding to this by linking me to Youtube videos of carols would just be spiteful as the internet here doesn’t really like video streaming very much.

It’s supposed to be the dry season now, but the rains keep coming. This means two bad things: road deterioration and mosquitoes. The latter have been particularly annoying when disrupting my 24 watching over the weekend. I mean, there you are in a comfy chair trying to cheer Jack on and mosquitoes are feasting (on a small scale) on your blood. The roads is more interesting: at one point, I wondered if it was just that I was slowly losing patience with driving here but then I realised that all but two roads I drive on here are visibly worse than when I arrived. On Tuesday, I was acting as an ambulance and had serious issues in getting a very old and frail lady home from the village without jolting her around too much despite generally deducting 20kph off whatever I usually did on each road and successfully remembering most of the hidden gullies that I normally just hit and then apologise.

There's a lorry stuck here every two days.. this is the best so far.

I first thought the road worsening could be an attempt to spite me (and who knows, maybe it is a conspiracy) but then I realised it was the rain relentlessly running restraint-less, rutting (as in causing ruts) and ridging roads and roundabouts. Generally, if I’m on my own and in the pickup, it’s great fun as one can bounce around ridiculously (with some sympathy for the suspension) when one fails to swerve round the potholes (or in the places where there’s literally no way to pass without going into a least one pothole (into rather than over)). However, the absence of tread on the pickup and it’s dead battery made some of Saturday’s journeys pretty entertaining. I jump-started the pickup four times on Saturday, twice on my own (as in pushing then jumping into the car once speed is built up) and three times in front of an appreciative Ugandan audience who seemed to enjoy the spectacle considerably. Thus, when I slid, stopped and then stalled in the middle of a very slippery, muddy and wet patch near the BJH (Boy’s Jenga House), I was a little concerned. Thankfully, the engine roared back into life. Unfortunately, the road was bad enough that I needed the askari and two friends to shove me clear of the hole I was in. We then travelled at an angle up a straight road due to one tyre having more tread than the other… quite an interesting experience.

Work’s been pretty good this week. A few big things are slowly moving forward but lots of the day-to-day stuff is now happily bypassing me which is ideal in some senses but does mean that I have to be more proactive in finding stuff to do. The plus side is that this gives me more spare time to work out how best to pester those in authority who are delaying me (usually unapologetically). Sometimes, my efforts seem to work well. However, I discovered last week that a lady had misunderstood what I was pestering her about and the thing I actually wanted was already done. That said, they haven’t yet confirmed it’s done so I’m now pestering her for written confirmation.

This definitely counts as work

This Sunday, the Dr became the Rev Dr which meant an exciting road trip to Kumi to watch the ordination. We ended up leaving Mbale an hour late (I managed not to make too many complaints about this) and this meant we missed the first hour of a five hour service. Once I’d realised this, I stopped complaining altogether! Anyway, it was a great day. Quite a few people from work also managed to make the hour and a bit journey out there so the Dr was thronged by her devoted staff!

Churches and individuals often give presents to those ordained and the Dr came back with lots of exciting gifts. Among the mugs (which were obviously cool) and other stuff were a turkey  and five chickens! Thankfully, none of them are roosters so I don’t need to fear for my precious sleep.

Hello Christmas!

Other highlights of the week include Skyping some Oxford (and ex-Oxford) friends on Saturday evening (you guys are sweet), Curry Night on Friday, “Games Night” on Tuesday, WATCHING MERLIN excessively on Thursday (that’s right, I found it in a perfectly legal video shop for 60p… ideal!), eating tic-tacs excessively on Saturday, the ideal food after the service yesterday and being told by several people that the Japanese earthquake had changed the angle at which the earth rotates.

Week 21!

Tuesday

The meeting goes on

Tapas and banter await

Flying over roads

Wednesday

The Dr sets off

Work continues before play

Settlers, i-deal

Thursday

Back to the Orange

Whilst paint dries, I “study” House

No clear parallels

Friday

Work throws up new jobs

I retreat to the weekend

Curry marks the start

Saturday

Stupid mechanic

Why return pickup broken?

Must push start myself

Sunday

Miscellaneous

I did use some time wisely

Come on Liverpool

Monday

A new week begins.

More bashing head against walls

Local government…

More mountains climbed

It’s been quite a steady week at work with some of the days being taken up with jobs I’d describe as the rear end of administration and efficiency. Re-sorting the patient records in the reception to ensure they can be found quickly when needed does not have a whole lot of glamour (even if I wear my cool socks (thanks Tim Saunders), but does give a small amount of pleasure when its all done (I’m sick, I know). The job did highlight a few concerning flaws in my grasp of the alphabet such as a repeated urge to place ‘L’ in front of ‘K’ (okay, I’ll move on). Anyway, against such a background there have been many bright instances to keep the week ticking by.

One such highlight; it's close to comfort...

Most anticipated of these was the opening of the bank accounts last Friday. That’s right, I haven’t gotten confused, this definitely qualifies as a bright point. The other day when we were given numbers for the accounts, it turned out they’d been blocked a few days later. Continued stalking and harassment on my part had produced few results and then, finally, on Wednesday, Vincent had the brainwave of phoning IT support! It turned out there was a part of the form he hadn’t filled in… ideal. So, after just over two months, the two accounts are finally opened! (I had hoped to go on to write about how exciting it was that I’d gotten the suit that I’d been waiting for, and I was told I could get it last week and I went and… I was told to come back later, wonderful (Still under 2 months though so I shouldn’t complain too much))

Another highlight of last week was Mzungo Games Night. The dominant feature of the evening was dinner, with Ali making some splendid lasagne with salads followed by lemon drizzle cake plus the company was pretty decent. Such was the scale of dinner that we only had time for one game (which Dan lost badly, very very badly) but it was a good trade.

Saturday rates among the top days in Uganda so far; get ready for an overly detailed breakdown! Dan, Sam and I had arranged (at a local curry house on a Friday night man date that featured excessive amounts of garlic naan) that it was finally time to climb Wanale (the big lump lurking in lots of my photos of Mbale). The plan was to set off at 9am as a compromise between leaving early to dodge the rain and leaving late to allow for lie-ins. After I finally left the house in the trusty pick-up at 9:10, I stopped to pick up our lunch, chapattis en masse. Unfortunately, after I stopped, I couldn’t start again. Knowing the trusty pick-up has a habit of running out of fuel due to multiple users and a long defunct fuel gauge, I bought some fuel but this didn’t do the trick. Unfortunately, the boys were even further behind schedule, so we didn’t set off from that spot until 10:15 (locals will only help push if you pay them which I just can’t bring myself to do on principle). None of us had climbed the hill before, but someone had vaguely told us where to start from. We couldn’t find that so decided it was time to get seriously adventurous. We parked in a school playground (that isn’t the adventurous bit) and set off with the mountain dead ahead. It’s remarkably hard to walk anywhere off the beaten road without somehow gaining an opportunistic guide in this area, but we made clear that we didn’t have any money budgeted for guides which dispersed the crowd of young assistants pretty efficiently.

Spot the path

The route we took was absolutely brilliant, we’d turn corners or emerge from tropical canopies of banana leaves to see ever-increasingly-phenomenal views of the hill. However, as we’d decided just to head toward the bit we wanted to climb, the route got pretty steep. Thankfully it hadn’t rained the night before so we weren’t slipping around too much. The lack of any signposts made decisions a little more tricky but a mixture of local advice and democratic decision-making found us a great route to the top. Only as we neared one of the waterfalls did the route get seriously more difficult, increasing in angle and the distance between footholds whilst decreasing in grip. We slid our way up the hill (special mention goes to Dan who did the majority of the slipping but managed to last until the very end of the walk before he ended up landing on his butt), pausing for breaks for photos that happened to coincide with moments of breathlessness (it was the altitude, honestly). We reached the top and were about to crack out the chapatti and sausage for lunch when it started to chuck it down. The tree we’d chosen for shade now served for shelter until it got heavier and we retreated to the edge of someone’s metal roof. The wife came back, surprised (pleasantly?) to find three mzungus huddling under the edge of her roof, amongst the beans that were hanging there to dry. She kindly invited us in but, up on the top of the mountain (see how it’s changed from a hill) people’s English isn’t so good. All of us regretted our woeful progress with Lugisu and opted for appreciative tones of voice whilst thanking her via English and hand gestures interspersed with some few bits of Lugisu and Swahili.

Once the rain had cleared, we moved on toward the waterfall we’d come to see. The view from the top was amazing due to the distance of the plain beyond and the sheerness of much of the mountain; someone seriously needs to move here and set up a paragliding business. After starting lunch perched atop the rock above the waterfall, the rain came back for another go at us. Unfortunately, this time there were no nice roofs nearby. We opted for a nearby copse of trees and tried vainly to hide from the rain (I may have not brought a coat). After it had persisted for more than ten minutes we opted for the huddling technique and stood cheek to cheek to cheek until the worst had passed and our photo taking could resume.

We stood atop the waterfall with the plain rolling out before us and prayed, claiming the area for Jesus and breaking the hold of Satan (child sacrifice is still common in the area); it was an amazing opportunity.

As two of us had stuff we needed to get back for in the late afternoon, we decided to cheat and take bodas back down the hill. Unfortunately, the rain had turned the paths that cross the mountain to the road down into slip and slides (Dan was again a little bit comical but we were obviously also concerned for his safety (when he fell on his butt, the locals laughed… we tried not to)). We headed down the hill on an amazing road that followed the falling curves of the hill through little villages and past waving children. There may have been some falling off bikes involving Sam and myself when a driver tried a little too hard to climb a bit of road, but it counts as a life experience.

The day ended with Dan’s stir-fry and two games of Settlers before the boys got to give me another push start so I could get back home in the pick up.

Other highlights of the week to race through are being given £40 by Halifax (I love you Charlotte from the internet banking help department) for messing me about with international transfers, singing with 5 others from work at the front of church yesterday, having about 80% of my skin peel off onto various floors over the process of the week, and walking through town with three machetes - much fewer people said hello…

I’ve shifted my flight home so can now confirm that I will be back in the UK at 12:50 on the 6^th of February. I’m getting used to the idea, but have been unable to stop myself counting up the days (11 weeks today). It’s obviously quite a big change to the initial plan (and I’m happy to reimburse (up to 50%) any sponsors of my silence who were trying to secure not hearing my voice for an even longer period), but I’m feeling increasingly excited about starting the next bit of life and not too guilty about leaving work here early; I won’t have managed to become totally redundant, but most of me won’t be too missed…

Adventures in the (Welshy) West

I woke earlier than expected on the Saturday morning of departure due to chickens (I’ll get them all one day) and the noise of a tv, but I quickly set to packing stuff for my trip away. After doing the usual of laying out everything on the bed, I started placing items in my bag. Several things were sacrificed to the shortage of space (including sun tan lotion, blunder) but I managed to finish without destroying the zips. After a quick breakfast, I set off for my adventure with 4 books, 3 t-shirts, 2 flip flops, 1 pair of swimming shorts, no passport and an undisclosed number of changes of underwear.

The first leg of the trip was cheating really. The Church of Christ were also travelling to Mbarrara over Saturday and Sunday (cue me missing Mbale bonfire night (I’d been hoping we'd have fireworks in Mbale, but you need police permission due to them sounding lie gunfire)) so I was sat in the back of a Land Cruiser that felt distinctly like a normal car. We pelted it to Jinja before stopping for samosas and milkshakes before continuing on to Kampala, reaching just before lunch. I had a slightly more interesting journey back to the guesthouse as I’d been told the wrong hotel to use as a landmark (unintentionally) but I made it there though I’m still not quite sure how. The rest of the day passed by nicely, I climbed a hill for ‘panoramic views’ of Kampala and had another nice meal with the Church of Christ people before heading to bed at 9:30, I know how to live on holiday!

On Sunday we went to a church in Kampala before setting back off on the road. After passing the equator (which I found suitably exciting), the terrain started changing. The rolling, grassy hills (even sometimes segregated by hedges) are very different to anything here in the East but quite akin to Wales (at least three people have said this separately to me!), only with thousands upon thousands of banana trees (for matoke) and the occasional zebra (!). In Mbarara, I was staying with Ralph and Val, two friend of the Dr who help run a school just outside town. They were wonderful hosts who kept feeding me great food and were great fun.

Equator!

Monday is the only day of my trip I regret; I regret large parts of it. After a brief trip into town, I set off for the local big hotel to get some swimming in. I walked up to the pool and noticed it was hugely clean but didn’t think too much of it and set to reading in the sun before a cool dip. Despite having been previously scorched by the sun, I still thought I’d be able to tell when it was time to stop being in the sun (like a crazy mzungu) but I spent the rest of the week realising this wasn’t so. After swimming through rotting leaves, unable to see the bottom of the deep end (I’ll admit to being slightly concerned about something lurking underneath, unseen) I headed home, with my skin already starting to develop a beautiful array of pinks. (Ralph later told me the filter and pump for the pool have been broken for over 3 months, tasty).

Being sunburnt (particularly on the back of the knees) made the journey up to Kabale less exciting than it should have been. Still, the view was brilliant as we headed up toward a range of volcanoes, past hundreds of the Ankole cattle and thousands more banana trees. I jumped off the matatu (limped being more accurate) and onto a boda that took me the rest of the journey to Lake Bunyonyi, over the top of the ridge (1962m above sea level) and down into the crater lake.

I only spent one night at Lake Bunyonyi, but it was absolutely stunning. It’s name means Lake of little birds and there are thousands of them on the shores of the lake and the islands in the middle. My burnt legs made the climb to the top of the lake slightly more tricky, but it was well worth it, with the sun low over the clusters of islands and with a distant volcano looming beyond the basin. After an amazing crayfish curry with chips, I read by torchlight before another pre-ten bedtime.

View from the top

In the morning, I was torn between swimming in the lake and hiring a dugout canoe; the indecision was resolved by realising I’d left any form of shorts behind in Mbarara so I set off for a morning paddling around the lake. Thankfully, Ralph and Val had lent me some lotion but it was only factor 15 so my serene trip around the islands was periodically interrupted for photos and reapplication of lotion (I think I reached 8 times). The definite highlight was stumbling (in a canoe) across some crested cranes strutting around a cabbage garden which was fantastic, but it was generally peaceful and beautiful. After returning to shore, I boda-ed (it’s a word) back into Kabale and set back off to Mbarrara, aiming to be back before dark. I made it in time and Ralph cooked up a great final meal before I left again the next morning for the mountains.

On Thursday, I thought I’d managed to pull off an early departure to Kasese, but hadn’t banked on waiting in the matatu park for another hour after first boarding. Anyway, again we set off on a stunning drive. First we went up higher into another range of hill before the road swooped down into the plain in front of the Ruwenzoris. I arrived in Kasese unsure about how to play the rest of the trip. I was being followed by a few drivers, keen to transport me somewhere expensive expensively, but decided I needed to eat first. I went to buy a chapatti (as one does when needing to make a decision), followed by three guys who sat outside patiently whilst I chewed thoughtfully. In the end, I picked another guy (not out of cruelty) to take me as far into the mountains as one can go for free. We started on a tarmac road but quickly turned off that onto a dirt road with hills and dark clouds dead ahead. The road continued to narrow and become more rough and the mountains became slowly clearer. Being European, I’d imagined we’d be tearing along those twisty roads, up the steep sides of the mountains, but no-one’s ever built a road through the mountains so we ended up stopping when the road had become one track thick, still the view was great. The driver (who’s name I can’t pronounce or spell) was a great guy, putting up with me both shifting around on the back of the bike to take photos and stopping him every other minute so I could take a still shot; we probably ended up spending about three hours driving to and fro the mountains before he put me on a matatu, destined for Fort Portal.

Near the end of the road...

I’d decided to go to Fort Portal for the night as it was closer Kampala, despite the accommodation apparently being more expensive. The place I ended up at cost 12,000 USh (£3)/night but did have a set charge for bed wetting which I never think bodes well as an indicator of quality. I woke earlyish, still undecided how to handle the day. I asked the receptionist what there was to do in Fort Portal and he pulled a face and said nothing. I thought this wasn’t a great start, but decided that there must be some things to do if there were so many guesthouses around. After establishing with several people that there definitely wasn’t an exciting Fort nearby (gutting, I know) I decided to wander through town.

A boda driver made the mistake of saying good morning, and I turned back and started asking him what there was to do nearby. Little did he know, he’d spend the next 3 hours with me, touring the local lakes and caves which were really pretty… chuckle. I got back and was delighted to be I time for the 10am coach to Kampala (which I’d been told that morning left sharp on the hour). I took my seat, ready for a very long journey home but unready for us not to leave until 11:25. All of my journeys have featured entertaining companions from school girls trying to convince me to buy them plastic, jewellery to an assistant pastor trying to get me to get him a visa (who was reading the newspaper in the album) but Friday definitely featured the most memorable. The coach was still mainly empty when my reading on the coach (still stuck in Fort Portal) was interrupted by a guy asking to sit next to me. I looked around at the empty seats and begrudgingly accepted. We didn’t chat too much, but this guy was memorable for (a) telling me I looked like Van Persie, making him the third person that week to say so and (b) telling me he wanted to marry 4 women of different sizes (one big, one small, one medium, one some other size) so that he wouldn’t have to fornicate anymore. I later realised this was quite a clever adaptation of Paul saying you should marry so don’t burn with lust.

Early morning trip to crater lakes

I got into Kampala, annoyed that I’d just missed the 4pm coach to Mbale and got off the Fort Portal coach into mayhem (a traffic jam and a pedestrian jam caused by puddles and cars), headed for the taxi park. On the way, I spotted the coach also stuck and delightedly headed to it, boarded it and sat back smiling that I’d be back in Mbale smoothly. We got to the ticket office and it turned out the conductor hadn’t checked there were enough seats for any of the people he’d let on as they passed the centre of town. Me and two of the others jilted by the company set off looking for a taxi. By 7ish, we’d left Kampala after rounding up a ragtag bunch (one of whom kept vomiting in a bag  at regular intervals on the journey). An accident in Mabira forest led to detours and delays meaning I reached Mbale at 12.

I got off the matatu and started walking home down the street work is off but realised that two guys I’d noticed behind me when I got off the taxi had also turned down the road which seemed strange. Knowing enough stories of unfortunate encounters that had befallen people walking home in the dark in Uganda and that theft is worse as Christmas approaches (they think it’s nearly Christmas here too, crazy kids) I upped the pace. A vehicle turned down the road too and I could see their shadows behind mine so I strode faster and then noticed that the shadows had disappeared. The vehicle stopped by me and I realised it was m taxi! They’d noticed the two guys following me and come to make sure I got home safely! As soon I realised, I cried out “You guys…” and looked very touched. They recommended I went faster, so I ended my holiday jogging up my street with my bag over one shoulder.

As far as coming home is concerned, it looks like I’ll come back around the 6^th Feb and then stay in the UK! I’m still looking at doing police things in London, Manchester or Oxford but am keen not to start thinking too much about the future or else the two and a bit months I’ve got left here will simply disappear! Anyway, congrats for making it to the end! Looking forward to seeing you sooner than expected (and sad about leaving you Ugandan readers earlier)…

Small update, BIG NEWS

So! Those of you who know Min, (or have heard one of my thousand stories about ‘my twin’) might know that he’s engaged and getting married in February! This means I’ll be coming back sooner than expected!

I’m not yet quite sure about whether or not I’ll be coming back to Uganda after the wedding but it’s looking likely that I’ll stay in the UK and begin that life as hopefully most of the big jobs I came to help with will be finished by then. However, the whole thing is something I’ll be thinking and praying a lot about next week when I’m off away on my week’s trip to the West so please do be praying with/for me! I’m keen to attempt the minimal backpacker look, so won’t have my computer.

So! You’ll be seeing me sooner than you’d expected! All of a sudden, I’m over halfway!

Can't stay away...

I’m writing after a long day digging and moving dirt and bricks in the sun to repair a road (that’s right, I’m an engineer now), so if some stuff here doesn’t make any sense, it’s a mixture of gentle dehydration and tiredness. It’s been a week with plenty of familiar faces and places, most significantly me moving home on Wed a few hours before the return of the Dr!

But that’s getting ahead of ourselves, a narrative that breaks simple chronology seems a bit beyond me today, so I’ll start with Tuesday! Almost every Tuesday, I drive to the village clinic in the Landcruiser taking the Dr, a clinical officer, two nurses and a lab assistant (Tuesday is Bukaweka market day so there are lots more patients) but this week the Cruiser had been dispatched to Kampala to retrieve the Dr so it was a choice between going in the pickup with some staff riding in the back or sending everyone on matatus and spending the day doing odd jobs around town. Due to the absence of tread on the rear tyres, I opted for the latter which turned out to be a good idea as the Manafwa Traffic Police just happened to decide to set up roadblocks and check all vehicles papers and tyres that Tuesday, uncanny hey! After odd jobs, I went out for dinner with Team Admin which was wonderful.

Team!

Rather than be at work, pretending I’d been working hard constantly since she left when the Dr returned, I decided I’d  take the day off. Part of this was the need to move house (two whole bags worth of stuff), part was the need to Skype Min and part was sheer tiredness. What was funny was how strange it felt to be back in the Dr’s house despite having only been away about two weeks! Anyway, chatting to the twin was thoroughly wonderful, though did make me miss home a bit. Was great to have the Dr back and I endeavoured to not tell her everything that had happened and everything that needed her to make a decision on in one evening.

On Thursday my firm approach finally met a brick wall. Local government here is often a massive headache. Not only is it difficult to find them in their offices due to starting late, leaving early and almost always being away on some conference or other but when you do, but you can be there for hours once you get someone, trying to find who the right person to talk to is and trying to work out which is the appropriate form. For illustration, I went to see the DHO on Tuesday, but he was in Kampala at a conference. I was told this by his secretary who was leaving the office at 11 am, and locking up; I mean, why work when the DHO’s away? She told me he’d be in on Thursday so I faithfully returned on Thursday morning. I found the place staffed which was novel, but the DHO was at a conference until the afternoon, maybe I could come back at 3. Cautious of arriving late and being told smugly he’d gone, I arrived at 2:55. No one was there. Literally no one. I pushed the door and waited in the lobby reading posters until finally someone came. When the DHO came at 3:25, he read the letter I’d beautifully written and told me it was good, but I needed to talk to the CAO (pronounced cow with no trace of amusement by the government staff). Off I went to the next building. I entered the lobby to find 6 staff sat there with no obvious job to do. One of them kindly directed me to an office on the first floor where I was then led to another office in the basement. Still, I did succeed in finding the person I needed. She told me in needed to fill in this form. Unfortunately, she only had one copy so I needed to take it to the top floor to photocopy it before filling it in so she could set off to Kampala. I went to the top floor to the room with the photocopier, but obviously they had no paper. None. So I went back downstairs with the original before one of the staff sneaked off somewhere and came back with 10 copies which was perfect. I filled the form in beautifully and in duplicate and handed them over, but then the lady’s face dropped. She’d just remembered that the Bank account name needed to be the same as the Supplier name on the form. I asked why, ‘It does’, ‘But why?’ ‘It does’, ‘But I don’t understand why that would be’, ‘That’s the way it has to be’, ‘For what reason does it have to be that way’ (I’d genuinely become convinced the lady didn’t know what the word ‘why’ meant), ‘That’s the way it’s always been’, ‘But the two aren’t the same, one is the full name but we operate under a shorter version’, ‘But the two need to be the same’, ‘But why?’…On leaving, I put my ensuing rant against people who can’t explain the reason for something but just follow blindly down to my needed holiday but recounting this story makes me feel it was probably coming. Unfortunately, being firm doesn’t make so much difference with the government, why would they care if I don’t fill in my form on principle? Why would they care if I look upset with them? Realising my firmness had had no effect (no positive effect), I gave up and filled in another two forms but did insist she tried to submit the first ones before moving to the second.

I got back on Thursday to discover we’d be given two forms that needed filling in by Sunday. They had the word ‘September’ on them, which made the deadline seem initially reasonable. Thus, on Friday I set off to the village (I couldn’t stay away a whole week!) in order to fill in this form. There were a few issues with matatus generally delaying, but I was soon on the back of a boda, enjoying the view of the countryside. I’m not turning into a biker (I’m not sure I could pull it off) but there is something wonderful about driving along dirt roads on the back of a motorbike, through mountainous surrounds with little children waving and smiling. After I’d found what I needed, I was back off to town. This time I shared the boda with Jackie, an enrolled nurse who was returning to Mbale early due to a funeral. I’m not a grumpy guts (I’m not sure I could pull it off) but there’s something uncomfortable about sharing the back of a boda with a lady who’s sitting sidesaddle. The main complaint is you end up with your waist (by which I mean crotch) uncomfortably close to the driver, but one also feels more precarious driving over slick, clay roads. Entertainingly, we reached the end and the driver charged us both the fare you’d pay if you were on your own. I’m yet to ask Jackie why, if she knew this, we didn’t just take two bikes? Anyway, she did then buy me charcoal grilled maize so how can I complain!  Friday evening was curry night! About ten of us mzungos, including the new Jenga lad, Sam!, went to a curry place in town which is wonderful. The curry is from a slightly different region of India to most of that in the UK, but it’s still really good.



Saturday was pretty wonderful. It started with an early trip to Barclays (what a start to the weekend!) but then got better when I set off to help pick up 200 bricks in the pickup. The best thing about this was having to drive through a small patch of maize to get through the bricks; I’ve never gotten to mow down crops whilst driving before, but I felt suitably cool (whilst also concerned about the pickup getting out again!). After loading and unloading, (with a break for egg and chips in between, ideal), I set of to the market with Dan and Sam. I love bartering here so love the market, but we’ve also got a few guys we usually go to, so are developing the ‘regular’ relationship. Dan got given a free clementine by one of our favourites which made it all good. Then Sam cracked out some great Swahili to secure bargain prices on two pineapples. We then went to watch some footie (live Premier League Games, ideal) before heading back to BJH for Cottage Pie. As it was pretty late when we finished and we’d yet to start on Sherlock Holmes, I sneakily asked if I could crash there and ended up back in my green box room (I just couldn’t stay away).

It's pineapple season

Yesterday was the best Sunday I’ve had here yet and also one of the best days here so far. Church was delightful, real community, real banter, great sermon,. After the meeting, I got to carry little Joshua home, wolfed down some lunch and then went swimming in the sunshine. Found some of the gang at the poolside already so had a nice afternoon before heading back to GJH for cake and cards. Obviously I got tricked into staying for dinner follow by further games, banter and generally comedic times. Great day.