For those of you who continued to be gripped by my travelogue, you will remember our ride from the airport to the safari and then to Abaana’s Hope, where our trainings were held. We had a rookie driver named Rodgers (no relation to Aaron). He was slow, unsure of himself, and spoke in such a quiet manner we ended up guessing at what he was saying.
If Rodgers was an 8
th
round draft pick from UW-Platteville, today’s driver, Otim (oh-team) was a Heisman trophy winning #1 pick in the Ugandan driver draft. He has made the trip from Abaana’s Hope to Entebbe at least 50 times, speaks loudly and clearly, and doesn’t make a stop where he does not seem to know somebody. He should run for mayor.
He is also an aggressively safe driver. That might seem oxymoronic, but to be slow and indecisive is to make all trips much, much longer. Suzanne, one of the missionaries at Abaana’s Hope, calls driving in Uganda one giant game of chicken! I can verify it is an apt description.
It is Sunday afternoon and we are on our way to the Entebbe Airport. We have seen two very intriguing matters, one planned, the other not. The one that was planned is a Ugandan version of a drive-through restaurant. Otim pulled over to the side of the road in a town and soon had a half dozen people suggesting what he might want to buy for him and his three travel companions (Tim Prince, Gar Christenson and me). He chose chicken on a stick, pork on a stick and cooked bananas. The various people gave Otim the specifics, he passed them to us and he paid for them. Then we were back on the road. The first picture is of our food, cooked outside over a grill.
The second thing we saw was a pilgrimage undertaken by several Catholic Diocese’ in northern Uganda. They are walking (yes, that kind of walking where one foot goes in front of another again and again and again) from the area we are staying into Kampala, the capital city. It is roughly a 175-mile trip (did I mention by foot?). We have been driving five hours and forty five minutes and still would have another hour or so to make it to Kampala.
The picture is taken of them crossing the Nile River (yes, that Nile). The water is so rough here that if baby Moses was set in a basket in this body of water, he would have moved like a water park slide at Wisconsin Dells.
Gar has been in the front seat asking questions and being educated by Otim. The different modes of transportation here are amazing. You will see an occasional motorcycle (most of them around 175 CC’s) with four people on it. Riders on the back hold poles five feet long horizontally and/or vertically. Others with live chickens hanging by their feet from the handlebars. I am amazed at how few accidents there are. There are trucks with cattle crammed together and people sitting on railings that keep the cattle inside. I just saw a guy on a 175 with a metal bedframe on the back driving through town. Just when you think you’ve seen everything you see another level of creativity…and danger. I-94, even with its delay, isn’t looking too bad right now.
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