ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JOE A DULL BOY
(hopefully most of you get the reference to Jack Torrance in Steven King’s “The Shining)
J
Well – that’s how I felt. After being crammed in the compound for a few days I needed to break out.
I decided to go to Cassia Loung – beautiful views, high speed Internet, decent views…not bad.
Evan decided to come with me. Oh – what a fateful decision.
Even though Cassia Lounge was only a 20-minute walk away Evan and I decided to take a boda boda. So here’s the deal with boda’s – they ARE dangerous – I wont assert otherwise, BUT they’re relatively innocuous when travelling on backroads and away from traffic. Because Cassia Lounge was so close and because it was along quiet roads I figured it would be okay to take a boda.
I grabbed my helmet and off we went.
We walked over to Sylvester.
“Olya otia sebbo how much to Cassia Lounge?”
“1,000 shillings.”
“Kale. Lets go.”
“We took off for Cassia Lounge. Now Cassia Loung is located on one of the seven hills of Kampala and the road to the restaurant is actually quite steep in places. We started up the hill and the 100 cc boda boda engine labored beneath us, hemming and hawing its way up the mountain like the little train that could.
We started slowing down.
Slower.
Slower.
It felt like we were going to come to a stop when all the sudden – WHAM! – Sylvester hit the clutch and bumped the engine up a gear. The front wheel of the boda popped up. Sylvester forced it down. We turned to the right. The wheel popped up again. We turned further right. The wheel popped up again and now we were on the wrong side of the road headed for a dirt wall and the three-foot deep sewer that lines the road.
Prepare for impact!!!
We slammed into the dirt wall and fell into the sewer. I got up. My leg was scratched but everything was in one piece. I was okay. I looked down – Evan’s leg was wedged underneath the bicycle.
CR*P!
“You okay?”
“Yeah – I’m fine.”
It wasn’t a high-speed crash. We were barely moving. But anytime a 300-pound bike is tossed around next to gulleys and people’s legs – bad things can happen. Evan and I walked away with a few scratches and replete with the knowledge that we’d been in the first boda boda crash in the history of the Educate! compound.
Of course this would happen to me. The safest person in the history of Educate! and I’m in the first boda boda accident.
Later Angelica told me how a similar thing had happened to one of her friends – they were going up a steep incline and the boda flipped backwards and landed on the passenger. I suppose even when you’re barely going anywhere there’s a risk with boda boda’s.
Anyways it wasn’t a big deal but just one of those things that makes you think.
We helped Sylvester pull the motorcycle out of the sewer.
He fixed the mirror that had been pushed in by the wall of dirt.
“Okay.” He patted the seat. “Lets go.”
“No thanks Sylvester.” I said. “We’ll walk from here.”
I paid him 1,000 USH (50 cents) and we walked the rest of the way to Cassia Lounge laughing about the rediculousness of what had just transpired.
When we got to Cassia Lounge they told us they didn’t serve food until 12:30 so Evan and I ordered coffee (yum) and juice (yum) and did some work. I finally developed the four funding models I think we can offer our students at Educate! I will attach them below for those of you who are interested in the genesis of my work J
I also downloaded Led Zeppelin’s greatest hits album (got to take advantage of the high speed internet!)
At 3:00 we left Cassia Lounge because I had a meeting with Sandrah.
After my meeting with Sandrah I went for a run along Lake Victoria listening to Led Zeppelin. This might sound weird, but Led Zeppelin is good “Fall (as in Autumn) music” and although its still 80 degrees here I wanted to feel like it’s the fall. Mission accomplished – sort of.
For dinner I ate Indian food.
I was talking to my friend online as I ate.
“I’m eating cold Indian food.”
“While at least you’re not eating meat.”
“Actually I am.” I said.
“What type?”
“I honestly don’t know – I think its goat or beef?”
She thought that was funny. I guess beggers cant be choosers, right?
(Unfortunately the mystery meat would, again, make me sick later that night.)
After my dining extravaganza Rachel, Maggie, Evan, Baati and myself went to the Serena Hotel to meet up with my cousin Dave and the rest of the UN mission that had gone to Gulu to distribute mosquito nets to refugees in IDP (Internally Displaced Person) camps. We took a matatu to Kabalagala and a special hire from there.
I figured the special hire driver would try to over charge us since we were 4 mzungu’s going to the most expensive hotel in Uganda.
But…inexplicably…he quoted us at the fair price of 15,000 USH and away we went.
Okay…the Serena Hotel…WOW. Not only was it the nicest hotel in Uganda, but quite honestly it was the nicest hotel I’ve ever seen. Plush carpeting. Ornate African statues and artwork. Interior pools with walking bridges going over them. Chyrystal clear panes of glass limning the hallways, adjacent to a beautiful outdoor garden replete with exotic African fauna. It was simply majestic.
Again hard to ignore the disparity between the slums we drove past to get to the Serena and the opulent interior of the hotel.
We met up with Dave, 2 UN Foundation workers, an MTV contestant winner and a woman who had worked with her 8-year-old daughter to raise awareness about the malaria epidemic affecting the poorest of the poor in sub-saharan African IDP camps. It was really wonderful to see Dave and meet the people he’d travelled to Gulu with.
Dave admitted that reading my blog helped prepare him for his trip J
After Dave and his friend’s finished up dinner we went to the bar to have a drink. I got a dirty martini – but it was GROSS. Big let down. It was also the most expensive drink I’d had in Uganda – 15,000 USH ($7.50). Keep in mind an entire meal at Edith’s costs 1,3000 USH (65 cents).
It was getting late so we left. Dave and I laughed and mused about where we might see each other next. What could be more random than meeting up in Kampala? The North Pole? Antartica?
Well - I don’t know where I’ll see him next, but it was good seeing a familiar face in Uganda.
We said goodbye and walked out to the front of the Serena. Instantly two identical BMX X5’s turned on their lights and raced towards us. The one on the inside narrowly edged his competitor out.
“How much sebbo?”
“30,000 USH ($15)”
“Lets walk to the road.” Rachel said. “That’s too expensive.”
“Aww, c’mon!” I said. “When is the next time we’ll ride in a mint-looking BMW X5 with TV’s in the headrests?!”
The group capitulated and we got into the X5 and raced through the sleepy African streets and back to our compound in Buziga.
We drove past the spot where the boda driver died. The huge bloodstain was completely gone. Erased by countless tires and the deluges of Mother Nature. And the boda driver and the accident was forgotten, erased by the unrelenting march of time. The blood washes away. Life goes on.
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