Captured

I’m out on the beautiful deck of the KCM guesthouse, or Jesus House as it is otherwise termed… and it’s the cool of the evening and so beautiful. Whenever people think of Ugandan weather, I find they immediately think hot and sticky – almost unbearable temperatures – but it’s so far from that. Yes, we have our hot days – but near the capital, where we are based the temperature doesn’t stray far from 26 degrees at the hottest time of the day, and around 18 in the evening – and it’s a dry heat, the air isn’t as think as back home – just about perfect I would say. I don’t handle heat very well, then add in humidity like we have in our hot, stormy Australian summers - and it’s a licence to retreat to the nearest air-conditioned centre – or cool coffee shop by the beach (with a few exceptions that aren’t, namely: Rosie Blu and/or Indulge – mood depending;)).

So it’s been 2 weeks, almost to the day that I arrived in this fascinating country that has somehow captured me. Beware. If you dare travel to Africa, be prepared to never return complete. You’ll always leave a part of you here. I think… it’s just about impossible to travel here, doing the ‘tourist’ thing, or otherwise – and not be impacted. No, I’m not just talking about the crazy extremes in poverty and the dire lack of opportunities for Ugandans – even for those who are educated, or that backward governmental system which is only self-seeking and while trying to appear that it has a heart for the people it governs, it fails miserably. People can see right to the true motives. I’m not just talking about the crazy road system where potholes (craters) are norm, and the even crazier traffic situation – seriously, if there is any rule here, it is that there are none – and just expect the person driving straight  for you to swerve at the very last second, or that boda (motorbike) rider to pull out right in front of you – or that taxi (mini bus, with 14 seats and 21 people) to just pull to a stop in the main street, sit there for 5 minutes to let passengers out, and take on new ones – without any clear route around him – traffic backing up behind us, horns beeping. Yep, Ugandan traffic is something. And what is even crazier, is that there are actually rules. Yep. But these traffic police have no hope of keeping up. Kind of like when a riot that has just overpowered the riot police – where do they even start to gain back control? Seatbelts are rule – nobody wears them. Talking on mobile phones while driving is illegal, yet everyone does. Boda drivers have to wear helmets, yet you’ll be lucky to find one in the thousands.  Taxis are only allowed to carry 14 passengers, yet if the conductor can squeeze in just a few more – there’s no doubt he will. Seriously, we could have fun playing ‘corners’ in this country, but somehow I think the Ugandan seated next to me would understand what the ‘muzungu’s’ crazy point was…. I’ll just sit quietly and pray to get there safely instead.  I’m not talking about the mother and child sitting on the corner of the major shopping precinct, grubby, torn clothes, begging for money - people just walking by – probably confused at how to help them, I mean, really help them. Or the child, not older than 6 standing in the middle of a busy street begging for money in the jam of traffic – mum nowhere to be seen, but you just know that she is hiding on the sidelines ready to collect any money her adorable child brings in, only by tearing passers-by heartstrings, mostly foreigners – locals know better than to encourage such behaviour. Helping perhaps, but so temporarily – and definitely not encouraging the family out of the cycle of poverty. I heard of one doctor here who decided not just to walk by, but not just to offer money either – she picked up the very young child and began walking towards her clinic which was just close by – knowing that the mother would come running . When she did, the doctor purposed to talk to her, and ask her what she could do to ‘really’ help her and stop her from putting her child on the street. The mother was offered a job as a house maid to another doctor, and his family. Fairly paid, fairly treated. Clean, warm bed for her and her child. She lasted only a couple of weeks, and then left without a word – clearly, the street was more of a lucrative business. The risks of putting her child in the middle of the ridiculous Ugandan traffic, didn’t outweigh the benefits of a steady, safe income - in her mind. So sad. So, anyone  who travels here is encouraged not to give these children,  or adult beggars money – offer to give them water, food – transport back to their home – but don’t give them money. This only encourages them to stay on the street.

So tonight – I’m not talking about all these things that work together and snatch a part of you, preventing you returning ‘home’ the same. Tonight I speak of the people here who really imprint your heart. Full stop. No matter their situation, or background. They are blessings, when they don’t realise they even are. Their sense of fun, energy, their grace, humbleness, the girls’ sassiness – (they’re cute, and they know it;)), the guys’ humor, their friendliness, non-judgemental nature, resilience, faith in the face of hardships, every single person’s determination  - you see, these guys capture me, and I have no doubt, they would capture you too.  I am blessed because I have seen, and witnessed. Now I know... I will never be the same.

I was in a coffee shop today. The power was off back home, and I had things I wanted to do on my laptop so went and hung out there for a few hours. They have wifi. As soon as I had arrived, a guy named ‘Emmanuel’ came and sat opposite me – and in fairly good English asked to have a few moments of my time. He was 23, and had been offered a full scholarship to a university in China – school fees, food, accommodation – everything for the entirety of his Engineering program. He came with his church’s recommendation and was just going from person to person with his story, appealing for help with his air ticket – the only thing between him and his scholarship. No air ticket, no scholarship. It seemed crazy to me. The price of an air ticket would determine his future. He was obviously highly motivated, yet humble at the same time – to be able to appeal to complete strangers for help. I helped as I could – but he still has a long way to go before he is on that plane to China. I just pray that he may find someone to sponsor his trip. There is no HECS system here – you pay as you go, or you don’t study. And if you’re parents cannot pay for your university fees, or your big brother – than simply, you don’t go to university. Students right out of school have no way of paying their own way through university – yet they are among the most motivated individuals I have ever met. This world is really not equitable. Emmanuel will do so well if  he can only get on that plane. Keep him in your prayers? I really hope he makes it.

Well, it’s the Kyampisi Children’s Christmas party tomorrow. We’ve bought a whole bunch of Christmas food, and sweets. We have Christmas shoeboxes to give out to the children – sent from a church in the US and we have enough sugar to keep these guys going well into the afternoon. Should be a good day, I’m definitely looking forward to it. So on that note, at 11.40pm – I will head to bed.

I have much more to write, and will soon. Much love to everyone back home.

Sula Bulungi (Good night)

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