Alive in Uganda

I arrived in Lira, Uganda after too many hours of travel. I sat on an airplane for nine hours or so on the way to London.  After  making it through customs and wandering about for several hours, I boarded another plane to get into Uganda.  Another nine hours.  Once at the Entebbe airport, I hired a car to drive me into Kampala and drop me at a bus station.  This apparently is where my African adventure began.

The bus looked to be ninety years old and was filled with beautiful African people.  I managed to find a seat, separated from the people next to me by a twelve inch aisle which rapidly shrunk before my eyes as people continued to board the bus and place their packages underneath seats with edges protruding into the middle of the aisle.

Meanwhile vendors entered the bus walking the aisles trying to sell their wares:  socks, gum, bottles of water, speakers, a solar panel, peanuts, wallets, etc, etc.  This persisted for nearly an hour due to the fact that the conductor would not leave without filling every seat, one of which was next to me.  I let a tall gentleman sit between myself and the passenger next to the window.  He sprawled his legs completely, causing one side of my body to nearly hang in the aisle.  How long will this bus ride be?

Too long. Hours and hours, nine to be exact,  The bus struggled through an hour of traffic through Kampala.  We stopped for fuel and allowed more vendors to sell goods.  Passengers held money out of the  windows buying corn, meat kabobs, bananas and loaves of sliced bread.  I sat praying that my bladder would remain empty and that my legs would function when I had to stand.  Every jostle against warm bodies all around me heightened the intensity of those prayers.

I must have been like a child peering out the window relentlessly longing to see OtinoWaa Village.  and suddenly, I had arrived.  It felt like a miracle.

 I have arrived.  I have rested, bathed and eaten a meal.  As they say  in Africa, God is good!