Taking a bus for eight hours to Uganda to go whitewater rafting on the Nile River. Fun.
August 5, 2007 –
It was the strangest thing. From my experience so far, time is not usually considered seriously in Rwanda. But there are some rare moments of absolute promptness. For example, the coach bus going to Kampala left at exactly 9:00 AM with the door still flung open and people jumping on and off getting last minute bottles of water from the vendors. Meagan and I just sat there in our seats next to the door watching this. It was kind of outrageous but it set out what the weekend was going to be like.
Another drive twisting around through the hills of Rwanda. I do enjoy them but I think I’ve had enough with buses for now. (Thankfully this was a big coach bus with Nigerian soap operas playing on the TV). About two and a half hours in, we stopped. Everybody piled out. Meagan left to use the bathroom. I was the only one left on the bus. I figured I’d take a just-in-case pee too so I took my passport and got off. Immediately, the bus drove off and I was standing there in front of the immigration office… huh. It turned out this was where we got our exit visa stamp. After a good 20 minute wait in line, we’re done and went off to find the bus.
Real conversation:
“I wonder where this is.”
“We can’t be in Uganda already.”
We walk by a sign: “Welcome to Uganda:
“Ohh… I guess we’re in Uganda.”
We jump back on the bus with five more hours to Kampala
We made it to Uganda’s capital at around 7:00. Moses was there to pick us up. Driving through Kampala was WAY different than Kigali – it’s busy. The markets were packed through the night, people everywhere, music blaring from speakers on the backs of pick-ups. It looked like a party. Rush hour traffic was bad. We inched through towards an Internet café. I stopped to write an email to my parents so they know what I’m up to. In the same building as the Net was Steers – a North American style fast food restaurant. I might have drooled at the site of those burgers. After sending off those emails, we got our food.
Next stop: Red Chilli. We weren’t expecting this. Our place for the night was not a hotel. It was a backpackers’ camp. The bar and hang out place was OK. But then we were taken to our room, delightfully named “Tabasco.” It was outside, through the grass in the dark, surrounded by tents (not for us). It was a little hut just big enough to fit two single beds. No sink. No toilet. Those were communal like summer camp. What did we sign up for!?
After hanging out for a bit, we went back to our room. Getting ready for bed took more than just brushing teeth. First, a mouse scurried out from under my bed and ducked under the door. That was a little frightening. The next 20 minutes was a seek and destroy mission of any bug roaming around our beds. There were quite a few… big ones too but we eventually settled into bed.
With the lights on.
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