Road Trip II: To Kampala
I recently took a road trip to Kampala, which I've done before and documented on this blog. The road is about 450km (280 miles) long and according to google maps, should take about 6 hours. This trip was an extraordinary example of not just Uganda, but my experience with developing countries on a whole.
First, my purpose for the visit was to extend my visa past five months. The standard issue tourist visa in Uganda is three months, but for some reason I was only given two when I entered. I came to Kampala a few months ago to try to extend it through the official channels and got nowhere. After two days of waiting in lines, filling out forms and realizing that I would need to stay in Kampala for two weeks to know for certain if I was going to get an extension, I turned to alternative means. I linked up with some 'travel agents' who could expedite your visa extension process for a fee. It cost about a $100 but it was well worth it. Unfortunately the 'agents' only extended my visa for another three months, leaving me with another month to extend. I spoke to them on the phone and they insisted they could rectify the problem. And before you start to judge me for my back alley dealings with corrupt government officials and their minions, it's not like I went to some dark alley trying to find shady people. A thorough internet search will get you the contacts you need. Either way, the motivation for the trip was slightly shady to begin with .
I was scheduled to leave Kitgum at 8am and much to my surprise, we left on time. I was feeling very confident about the journey until about one hour in we reached a bus that had managed to get itself stuck in the middle of the road. The road from Kitgum to Gulu (about 100km/62 miles) is unpaved and during the rainy season this means some very deep mud. I don't know how, but this bus managed to get stuck completely perpendicular in the road, blocking any access to any cars or motorcycles. Everyone unloaded, most people grabbed a shovel, and the attempts to dig out the bus went on for 2 1/2 hours. A handful of people began to walk, which I found absurd since we were still probably at least 50km from Gulu and it was hot. I wish that I would have had my camera but since there was no power for the last few days in Kitgum, I couldn't charge it.
The bus was eventually freed, not after a fair amount of despair and emotional ups and downs. People would sporadically declare that the bus would never get freed, other times there would be moments of 'It's almost out!...'. After this very long delay, we all happily loaded onto the bus. The drive usually takes about two hours, which meant we had another hour to go, and I was worried that we might be victims of getting stuck as well.
My fears were unrealized but I had failed to let my fears encompass all disastrous scenarios. No more than 15 minutes later, the bus dropped completely to one side and a horrid noise came from underneath. I figured it was a flat tire, which wouldn't be the end of the world. When I got out and looked, I realized the magnitude of our bus trouble. The rear left wheel was completely bent inside (underneath) the bus. Apparently the bearing had broken and we were screwed. Now, apparently 2 1/2 hour delay for a bus stuck in the mud is okay by most Ugandan standards but paired with this, well, it was too much. The Ugandan passengers began to harass the bus driver and then later formed into a large circle taking turns criticizing the bus company.
The bus driver came and told us he had sent for another bus from Kitgum to pick everyone up. This message was not received with hope and calm, rather it set the group into another circled frenzy. Some people seemingly gave up all hope and lay down in the grass under trees. Others discussed how it was likely it would be the afternoon bus, which meant there wouldn't be seats for everyone. Still more left the scene began walking the long road to Gulu.
I was in the group of people lying down under the trees. I began to wonder how the day would end up and even pondered going back to Kitgum and trying again in the morning. After all, it looked like I would arrive to Kampala around 10pm, and that was being optimistic. At some point a nice looking foreign purchased Land Rover came by full of white people. A young woman, probably about 20 years old, hopped out and took a picture of the bus. For some reason this really made me pissed off. Unlike every other vehicle that passed, they didn't even stop to ask what was wrong or if we needed assistance, instead they drove just far enough to get a good picture but not close enough to have any interaction. I wanted to give this girl a big middle finger and &%#" you but when their car passed and she nervously waved, all I could do was lift my phone and pretend I was taking a picture of her. Not sure what I meant to accomplish but I figured it was a bit more civil than a middle finger.
Just as I fell into a state of paralyzed despair, a St. Josephs vehicle drove by. It stopped when it recognized me and I talked with the driver who I knew very well. Turns out the truck was going to Kampala and had room for one!!! I hopped into the truck, leaving behind my fellow co passengers with stunned and envious looks on their face.
Typically that would be end of story, happy ending. But no, turns out, the truck was having problems and we couldn't go more than 100km/h. This meant a snail's pace, though I had been so beaten by the events of the day that I reminded myself how lucky I was. I imagined the people in the bus still sitting in the bus or on a new bus, most likely reeking of body odor.
We rolled into Kampala at 9pm and were met by a traffic jam. Normally traffic jams are annoying but after the day I had I felt like I wanted to punch someone in the face for the full TWO HOURS that we weaved through Kampala. Paired with the disgusting exhaust, dust and general frantic driving, well, I was a completely broken man by the time I reached the guesthouse.
All I wanted to do was sleep but keeping with the theme of the day, the mosquito net was full of holes like a piece of Swiss cheese. I tried to sleep off the rough day but something tells me I probably whimpered like a baby as I woke up every hour scratching mosquito bites and attempting to hunt down the mosquitoes that had penetrated my net.
First, my purpose for the visit was to extend my visa past five months. The standard issue tourist visa in Uganda is three months, but for some reason I was only given two when I entered. I came to Kampala a few months ago to try to extend it through the official channels and got nowhere. After two days of waiting in lines, filling out forms and realizing that I would need to stay in Kampala for two weeks to know for certain if I was going to get an extension, I turned to alternative means. I linked up with some 'travel agents' who could expedite your visa extension process for a fee. It cost about a $100 but it was well worth it. Unfortunately the 'agents' only extended my visa for another three months, leaving me with another month to extend. I spoke to them on the phone and they insisted they could rectify the problem. And before you start to judge me for my back alley dealings with corrupt government officials and their minions, it's not like I went to some dark alley trying to find shady people. A thorough internet search will get you the contacts you need. Either way, the motivation for the trip was slightly shady to begin with .
I was scheduled to leave Kitgum at 8am and much to my surprise, we left on time. I was feeling very confident about the journey until about one hour in we reached a bus that had managed to get itself stuck in the middle of the road. The road from Kitgum to Gulu (about 100km/62 miles) is unpaved and during the rainy season this means some very deep mud. I don't know how, but this bus managed to get stuck completely perpendicular in the road, blocking any access to any cars or motorcycles. Everyone unloaded, most people grabbed a shovel, and the attempts to dig out the bus went on for 2 1/2 hours. A handful of people began to walk, which I found absurd since we were still probably at least 50km from Gulu and it was hot. I wish that I would have had my camera but since there was no power for the last few days in Kitgum, I couldn't charge it.
The bus was eventually freed, not after a fair amount of despair and emotional ups and downs. People would sporadically declare that the bus would never get freed, other times there would be moments of 'It's almost out!...'. After this very long delay, we all happily loaded onto the bus. The drive usually takes about two hours, which meant we had another hour to go, and I was worried that we might be victims of getting stuck as well.
My fears were unrealized but I had failed to let my fears encompass all disastrous scenarios. No more than 15 minutes later, the bus dropped completely to one side and a horrid noise came from underneath. I figured it was a flat tire, which wouldn't be the end of the world. When I got out and looked, I realized the magnitude of our bus trouble. The rear left wheel was completely bent inside (underneath) the bus. Apparently the bearing had broken and we were screwed. Now, apparently 2 1/2 hour delay for a bus stuck in the mud is okay by most Ugandan standards but paired with this, well, it was too much. The Ugandan passengers began to harass the bus driver and then later formed into a large circle taking turns criticizing the bus company.
The bus driver came and told us he had sent for another bus from Kitgum to pick everyone up. This message was not received with hope and calm, rather it set the group into another circled frenzy. Some people seemingly gave up all hope and lay down in the grass under trees. Others discussed how it was likely it would be the afternoon bus, which meant there wouldn't be seats for everyone. Still more left the scene began walking the long road to Gulu.
I was in the group of people lying down under the trees. I began to wonder how the day would end up and even pondered going back to Kitgum and trying again in the morning. After all, it looked like I would arrive to Kampala around 10pm, and that was being optimistic. At some point a nice looking foreign purchased Land Rover came by full of white people. A young woman, probably about 20 years old, hopped out and took a picture of the bus. For some reason this really made me pissed off. Unlike every other vehicle that passed, they didn't even stop to ask what was wrong or if we needed assistance, instead they drove just far enough to get a good picture but not close enough to have any interaction. I wanted to give this girl a big middle finger and &%#" you but when their car passed and she nervously waved, all I could do was lift my phone and pretend I was taking a picture of her. Not sure what I meant to accomplish but I figured it was a bit more civil than a middle finger.
Just as I fell into a state of paralyzed despair, a St. Josephs vehicle drove by. It stopped when it recognized me and I talked with the driver who I knew very well. Turns out the truck was going to Kampala and had room for one!!! I hopped into the truck, leaving behind my fellow co passengers with stunned and envious looks on their face.
Typically that would be end of story, happy ending. But no, turns out, the truck was having problems and we couldn't go more than 100km/h. This meant a snail's pace, though I had been so beaten by the events of the day that I reminded myself how lucky I was. I imagined the people in the bus still sitting in the bus or on a new bus, most likely reeking of body odor.
We rolled into Kampala at 9pm and were met by a traffic jam. Normally traffic jams are annoying but after the day I had I felt like I wanted to punch someone in the face for the full TWO HOURS that we weaved through Kampala. Paired with the disgusting exhaust, dust and general frantic driving, well, I was a completely broken man by the time I reached the guesthouse.
All I wanted to do was sleep but keeping with the theme of the day, the mosquito net was full of holes like a piece of Swiss cheese. I tried to sleep off the rough day but something tells me I probably whimpered like a baby as I woke up every hour scratching mosquito bites and attempting to hunt down the mosquitoes that had penetrated my net.
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