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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