Opera on the Post Bus? Naaah….

Nancy — Fri, 05 Oct 2012 16:36:00 +0000

So – we were about half way home on the Post Bus ride from Kampala to Gulu, watching the countryside whiz by, when it happened. It had been blessedly uneventful – just what you want on a bus ride considering the alternatives. I got up early to be able to hit Brod, the bakery, to get my sanity making real croissant for the bus ride. When I arrived at the PO, I was stunned to discover that they were serving tea, juice and breakfast breads to the passengers in the waiting area outside.

Wait just a minute – who am I-where am I-what is my name? This is definitely NEW and – it was complimentary. Things are changing before my eyes in Uganda. There was a bus drivers’ strike last week over safety conditions after a bus (not a Post Bus) of 40 rolled over and all died. There’s actually a suggestion to have armed guards on every bus to keep the DRIVERS in check. Wondering if this “breakfast move” is focused on attracting customers. It’s known as the only really “safe” bus so they’re already ahead of the game. The road conditions add to the adventure.

OK – back to opera…. As I said, there we were, bouncing along with sausage trees and tall grass disappearing n our dust, when one of the several babies on board started wailing – I mean that shrieking cry that only little babies can manage. As if in sympathy, the others join the chorus. Stereo babies…. stereo crying babies. And then – OPERA starts vibrating out of the overhead speakers. Not church music – Opera – something from Madam Butterfly I think. And it’s rather a lot to take in along the terrible road, on a terrible bus ride, in the terrible heat of a terribly long day in the middle of Uganda. I looked to see if there was something correspondingly incongruous on the TV screen. I was not disappointed. The opera was the accompaniment to a scene of a large Ugandan woman dressed as a nun, running through a park – arms akimbo. She stops in front of a cross – and there is “Jesus” mounted there – but when he sees her an jumps of the cross and starts running. I’m not making this up.

This is pure comedy and I could not have written a more bizarre script. I’m nearly convulsed with laughter, babies are wailing and madam Butterfly provides a backdrop to religious sacrilege. Some days are just perfect in their absurdity. This was one.

I’m starting a collection of “BUS STORIES.” It’ll be the grown-up version of The Wheels on the Bus. It will no doubt be X-Rated – there are some doozies (man peeing in a water bottle and PCV being slapped on the cheek by a flying breast).

And I am back “home.” The house was left unoccupied, so I was relieved to discover all was well and as it should be. I instantly dropped my bags and gratefully climbed under a COLD shower and loved every drop of it. This concerns me. One year and ten days remaining. There are a few who can tell you to the minute.

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Random Acts of Kindness

Nancy — Sun, 13 May 2012 10:02:00 +0000

Hi folks – Happy Mother’s Day! Sitting in a web-cafe in Kampala and have – at long last – been able to get sufficient internet connectivity to upload some new pictures. These are of the Gulu house, accessed through this heavy gate, which is locked at night. I know some of you are picturing me living in a mud hut with a thatched roof and gorillas gracing the tress outside. And some folks ARE living closer to that – but even PC has limits, theoretically.

I’m “in the city.” So this house is somewhat typical, although larger than most, which is why I share it with another PCV for the time being. Many of the houses you see here are of the clay-brick variety – but this one has been plastered. I share it with one other PCV and – in addition to others PCVs that happen through Gulu – we share space with an uncountable array of geckos, mice, Giant ants, white flies, and other seasonal creatures I’d rather not know about.

Floors and walls are concrete and the roof is tin. Windows somehow (almost) close, but no screens, though there are burglar bars on all windows and front doors. There are locks (sort of) and there is sometimes electricity (although it’s off more than it’s on and totally random) and even less often there is water. At present electricity is turned off because they say we didn’t pay the bill – which was paid last week when received. The catch is, it was delivered two months late. Ah – the joys of everyday life here. Went through the same thing last month with water. The dilemma is, utilities are so random, ya’ can’t tell you have a larger problem until your neighbor has power, water, etc. and you don’t. Since so few people have either, it’s kind of of a crap shoot.

Note the Jerrycans around the hall sink: always kept full for the moment “water is finished.” We have a very large water tank in the back which periodically fills, when there is enough water pressure from the main station. When it fills, something like a toilet tank float is supposed to turn of the flow when it reaches the top, but it’s broken. Twice now in the middle of the night, I have awakened to the sound of pouring water. That would be the water shooting out of the tank (20 feet off the ground) as it continues to fill. In the middle of the night, in the dark, I have scurried around for a flashlight, gone out that gate you see in the first picture and found the turn-off valve for water coming onto the property. I have finally found someone to replace the mechanism, but the landlady wants in on the act. Ordinarilly this would be a good thing, but the repairman (the one who calls himself the Black Muzingu because he is on time) begged me not to involve her, because “she is a hard woman.” So true. But that’s another topic…

So what else can I tell you. It has a garage, with a door off the living area (right) but also huge metal ouside doors damaged in the burglary. So now a feral cat sneaks in a sleeps there. Hoping he will keep down the mouse population, but the other night Jenna reported having “found the mouse,” and having escorted him out via the suitcase he was all snuggled into. When I got home, we found its big brother living in my bathroom. (God only knows how many we have NOT found). We had decided we could capture it and dump it out as well, but honestly you’d have thought it was a Black Mamba, the way we squealed when it ran between our legs and over feet. Rather embarrassing to admit that, but…. there we were. It ran INTO the wall, so we dumped mouse pellets at the base. Once again, he could have stayed, had it not been for revealing his preference for my dark chocolate granola bars.

The kitchen consists of a two-burner propane (when we can get it) stove, and toaster over that sometimes works, and a sink. With the accumulated furniture from the roommate, it functions decently and beats the hell out of a sigiri for cooking.

All-in-all a decently comfortable space, with sometimes electricity and sometimes water. And yes, among other PCVs it’s considered the Taj Mahal, because of its size and flush toilets.

I am in Kampala this week, having left on the 7:00Am bus on Saturday. Another surprise! I don’t LIKE walking in the dark, but that is required to get to the bus early enough to get a seat that won’t result in my throwing up on another passenger: you know – a window seat with wind in the face.

Arriving at 6:11 (sky just beginning to lighten a bit) I found the bus completely FULL, with disgruntled people still waiting to board. Dismayed, I turned to leave figuring I’d have a tough time getting out of Gulu – in competition with hundreds of kids returning to boarding schools elsewhere.

Well on my way to the exit, the conductor ran to get me saying “No, no madam, come! We will not leave you behind!” Wow! How did that happen? It was one of the “Random acts of kindness” that keeps us here. He escorted me to the jam-packed bus and I was extremely aware of being escorted past a few other people. Very uncomfortable with this, I explained that I did NOT want to go ahead of others waiting. He pointed me to a seat in the front (seats of death as they are known – because if the bus hit’s something – well you get the idea). “First you just sit.” OK…. I sat. Next a small Ugandan girl wrapped in a white shawl sat next to me and four others took places sitting on the steep steps coming in (now that’s really pushing your luck). Then a throng of others streamed into the bus (stepping OVER the people on the seats), only to be turned around as the exasperated driver was throwing up his hands, “Do you not believe the bus is full – leave now.” Unlike the other buses, the POST Bus does not allow people to stand/sit in the aisles; live chickens and goats need not apply either (although they are welcomed into the luggage carrier under the bus).

At 6:23 we were off and in record time reached Kampala, where I downed a HUGE plate of spaghetti and a liter of water. (One doesn’t eat or drink anything after about 8PM the night before departure, for fear of having to use the facilities at the “short call” stop just after crossing the Nile on the way into Kampala. Good thing. The short call stop was a sea of mud….

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Kindness Archives - Nancy Wesson Consulting

Opera on the Post Bus? Naaah….

Random Acts of Kindness