On the Road Again

Kampala, Uganda (Feb.12-13)
 
My original plan was to go to visit my friend Kristina in a village near Dodoma. I checked out of the Pop Inn and took a cab to the Dar bus station. This time, as I drove into the bus station, it was just like the first time: maybe worse. They were banging on the windows and one guy actally jumped into the front seat of the car. I started screaming at him in English and Swahili to get out of the car, but he refused. I definitely over-reacted, but I just felt so angry and violated. When the cab stopped, I handed him the money and quickly jumped out, forgetting my guide book in my haste. Someone handed it to me and I sped off towards the buses. It didn't take me very long to realize that my guide book was not the only thing I left in that cab. By the time I realized it, my phone was long gone, along with my plans to go to Dodoma.

The man who had jumped in the cab was still following me around and asking me where I wanted to go. Without knowing what to do or where I was going, I stormed out of the bus station in a blind rage and began walking down the road. A few minutes down, I spotted a hotel restaurant and went in for a drink. That was the first time I legitimately just wanted to be home. I was all alone, with no phone and all this after I had just lost my camera.

After about 20 minutes on the patio, I managed to talk myself down. I would need a new SIM card in Uganda anyways, my phone wasn't very valuable, and I only had a few days left on my Tanzanian Visa anyways; I needed to get out. Since it would cost me at least another 10,000Tsh each way to get to the Pop Inn and back in the morning, I reasoned that if I could find a nearby hotel that I could walk to then I should be allowed to spend around 30,000Tsh. Luckily, I was able to find just that, and I learned that there are very few things that can not be fixed by an air-conditioned room with no cockroaches (I averaged two giant cockroaches a day at Pop Inn) and a hot shower.

At 6:00 AM the next morning I was on the bus to Kampala. It was a typical African bus ride with men running around with boxes full of water and food on their heads, banging on the windows. Even when you are wide awake and looking straight at them, they still think that the banging will somehow increase their chances of a sale.

When we stopped for our washroom break, I laughed to think about my first washroom break in Africa when I refused to go because there were no sinks. We just pulled over to the side of the road in the middle of a field and people just stepped off the bus and squatted. Being the only Mzungu on the bus, I didn't feel like showing them my naked butt would make them stare at me less, so I began rationing my water in the usual balance between having to pee and dehydration.

At around 11:00 PM, we pulled into a parking lot and I realized that we were stopping there for the night. Apparently, in Tanzania, they are not allowed to drive the buses on the road at night (It always weirds me out a bit when I learn things you can't do here because they always seem so arbitrary). I had 700 Ush left, which was just enough for a small water and one use of the washroom. I have no idea what the hotel situation was, but I didn't really have an option: I was sleeping on the bus. I covered myself in bug spray, although I knew getting bitten was inevitable, then I stuffed my large bag between the seats beside me, locked my two backpacks together and put the strap through my ankle, wrapped my purse straps around me and tucked it under my arm, and snuggled under my kanga for a few hours of sleep. I probably slept a minute.

At 6:00 AM we were back on the road towards Uganda. I started talking to this Kenyan named Alex who eventually started asking me about my religion. When I revealed that I had grown up Catholic but that I was now agnostic, he just couldn't understand. He just kept saying, "but I don't understand, how do you not have a religion?" Finally, I just told him to drop it and we just agreed to disagree.

He moved back to the seat with his friend and another man got on the bus and joined me. Immediately after sitting, he turned to me and said, "Have you been saved?" "Yes. I am definitely Catholic", was the only logical response. I realized just how prudent this was when he later revealed to me that he was a minister. I feel a bit guilty that I took away his opportunity to save my soul though.

I clearly had not budgeted for a two day trip so I didn't really have money to eat. One thing people don't realize though, when they react in shock that I am a woman travelling alone, is how much more willing people are to help you in that position. Alex bought me a samosa and the minister shared his Sanene, which are these bugs similar to grasshoppers that are deep fried and covered in spices. They tasted like what dog food smells like and were the consistency of really over-cooked fish. I always say I will try anything once. Once was enough.

Getting the Visa at the border was even less complicated than Tanzania and after $50 US and a stamp I was in. We had to walk across the border and wait while they searched the bus. I had to go to the washroom, but was afraid that it would be another paid toilet since I had no money left. I was more excited than anyone should ever be to find a pile of rocks with a makeshift bambo fence proped around it. A free washroom where no one can see my butt: Score.

After a mood-lifting conversation about some Somali terrorist attacks that happened a few years previous in Uganda, we headed to Kampala.