Hayestack

Day 8 took us from Kabale to Kampala. It was Sunday, the day when, traditionally, people either go to Church or wash their cars. As we drove out of Kabale…drivers were washing their lorries next to signs that read, “Washing vehicles by the side of the road is prohibited”. A bit further down the road a goat had been strung upside down on a wooden scaffold and was being drained of blood.

Moses notices some carrots for sale and stops. He wants to take a present to his wife in Kampala. When he returns to the car we can tell he is slightly annoyed. “The trouble with these people (street sellers), is as soon as they see white people in the car they double the price.” As we approach Lake Victoria we see stalls of large fish for sale. His wife would like a fish. They are large tilapia and have been freshly caught. It’s a delicious fish and we have eaten it nearly every day. The first negotiation is unsuccessful.. It’s the “white” problem again. Next time, Moses parks beyond the stall and manages to secure a satisfactory price. He ties the large, silver fish to the front of his car like a hunting trophy. We’ll probably be chased down the road by a pack of hungry dogs. At least the inside of the car won’t smell and we are grateful for that.

I had switched on the TV again that morning expecting to find soccer. Instead, it had been Ugandan Big Brother, and quite riveting. For twenty minutes a girl lay on her bed reading a book. The highlight came in the twenty-first minute when she coughed. The excitement was too much for me and I had to switch it off. I’m not sure why that came to mind as we sped back to Kampala with a large fish tied to the front of the car. “This is the region I come from.” Moses brought me back from my reverie. Suddenly, we swerve off the road into a garage forecourt and narrowly miss the girl petrol attendant. The man standing by the back wall looks worried as we approach but smiles when he recognises Moses. This is Farouk, one of Moses brothers. Moses is laughing when he returns to the car. “Farouk said to me,’ what’s this? You only drive whites now?’” and he continues to laugh. Moses seems pretty pleased with himself.

We pass a diesel lorry and trailer overturned by the side of the road. Villagers were gathering with plastic containers to collect their share of free diesel. It reminded me of the Cornish “wreckers” who lured ships onto the rocks to steal their cargos. No, that couldn’t be happening here.

Our journey ends at the Red Chilli Hideaway in Kampala. Monkeys shriek as they jump from tree to tree in the garden. As it was Sunday we took a minibus/taxi to the Kampala Pentecostal Church in the centre of the city. Sally had heard of its connection with the Watoto Baby Project and their Children’s Choir. We squeeze into a minibus/taxi legally registered for only fourteen passengers. We didn’t know it at the time but any excess passengers can be prosecuted along with the driver. There were nineteen of us in that bus and we were the last to get on.

The church (a theatre) was full. We had to stand at the back, no, we could sit at the front in seats reserved for the pastors. We hoped we wouldn’t be called up to speak. The evening was given over to 2 visiting groups, one, a dance troupe, the other, a comedy group. We heard the satirical song about the Queen’s impending visit but we didn’t see much, as the cameraman was plonked directly in front of us. They don’t seem to think much of their pastors, or maybe their pastors were blind? Never mind, we wouldn’t stay long as it would soon be dark and we didn’t want to negotiate Kampala at night. It was dangerous. “It’ll look rude if we walk out from the front row,” said Georgina. “Let’s stay a bit longer.” The entertainment began to over-run, seriously. I began to stress out. Would they let us stay in the theatre until morning? No. Kampala was black when we pored out onto the street. The minibus/taxis were full and not going our way. The driver of one thought he might be going our way and we could get in anyway. We got in, though logic dictated otherwise. It’s strange how we can act against all common sense and reason. The girl in front of me turned around. She had heard me mention The Red Chilli Hideaway. She lived behind it and would tell us where to get off. What an answer to prayer. She had been at the church and might be sold into slavery with us. At least, she could help ward off our attackers or hurl insults at them in their language. Sharon, our girl, disappeared at one stop. I panicked. Where was she? She turned up sitting behind me. She was with her sister Dorothy who became Sally’s instant friend and accompanied us up the dark lane to the hotel. They didn’t seem to be at all afraid. What? A silly baby? Who me?

Sunday melted into Monday as we flew above the clouds over Eastern Europe, Turkey and Iran towards our change at Dubai.Miss Potter entertained us as did the seemingly endless flow of food and drink which stopped thinking that we were in a huge chunk of metal weighing hundreds, if not thousands of tonnes, flying 36,000 feet above the earth’s surface, supported by nothing more than air and trying to defy the inexorable pull of gravity.

It’s good how you can choose your own film/game/music entertainment on your own monitor.  And, you don’t need a twelve year old computer geek to explain the controls.  Good job, since there weren’t any around.  Georgina sussed the controls, no problem.  After the film she started to play computer “Patience”.  She’s good at it having been married to me for yonks.*  William Wilberfororce and his “Amazing Grace” proved too taxing for my exhausted brain and I gave up after about ten minutes.  It was a shame because the small bald man with the continuously shocked expression (some Duke or other) was turning out to be quite amusing.

I defy anyone to sleep comfortably in an aeroplane seat (economy, that is).  The back is too upright.  It reclines about 2 inches, max.  I lean this way and then that.  I stick my leg out to the left and nearly trip up an old woman going to the toilet.  I stick out my leg to the right and kick Georgina in the shins.  I feel hunched up and can’t breathe.  I throw my arms over my head.  I still can’t breathe.   Maybe, if I lie in the aisle….?  Three hours later I wake up….still breathing, just in time for breakfast.  It’s funny how a tiny omelette with an even smaller piece of bacon and a cocktail sausage leave you thinking you’ve just had a full sized meal

There was a camera at the nose of the plane which allowed you to see take-offs & landings from the pilot’s point of view.  You could not only feel the wheels hitting the runway and bouncing up and down for five minutes and the swerving off the white line.  You could see it too. More white-haired passengers got off the plane than had got on.

When you leave the plane at Dubai the wall of heat smacks you in the face.  You could cook an egg on the tarmac.  Actually,  my omelet had tasted slightly strange.  The inside of Dubai airport looked curiously familiar.  Then it clicked.  It was Lakeside Shopping Mall.  The shops and shiny floors were the same.  The chromes and plastics were the same.  The ethnic mix with the occasional burqa was the same.  Even the queues at the women’s restrooms were the same.  We said goodbye to Dubai and, after a quick stop at Addis Ababa we landed at Entebbe Airport, Uganda.  Have you ever tried skimming a smooth pebble over a lake to see how many times you can make it bounce?  I swear our pilot was doing that with our plane ever time we landed.

The entertainment at baggage reclaim was watching an Alsatian dog clamber over the bags as they made their way over the moving belt.  If its job was to knock every tenth bag onto the floor, it did it well.  It didn’t find any drugs and its handler seemed indifferent anyway.

Isn’t it good to be met at an airport, especially if you don’t know the place, the people or their customs?  What a relief to find Moses with his car waiting for us.  And there were monkeys roaming wild.  This was Africa.  We had arrived.

…tired and bedraggled. We have been enriched by the experience and, when I have recovered from the zombie realm I will tell you about it. In the meantime, check out the photos in the gallery. More to be added later.