A very big place

Well it's been a good while since I blogged something. In the little more than a week I traveled from Zambia back to Uganda. The trip was done in three segments of 39, 34 and 11 hours.

The first bus trip started at 8am on Wednesday and didn't end till 9:30pm Thursday. Apart from one three-hour wait at a bus stop it was pretty much constant travel. The final destination on that day was Dar es Salaam. I had hoped to get up and see Bill again, who has moved to Arusha, but we didn't really coordinate that properly so it didn't happen. It is probably just as well as the next leg was probably made more easily starting in Dar. Part of my problem was Tanzania requires you to register your cell phone in order to be able to make calls so I could not communicate till mid-morning Friday. An area wide power outage kept me off the internet...I have become so used to instant communications that a little thing like that was unbearably annoying, at least for a little while.

shy hermit crab

The trip took longer than I had expected so I ended up catching up on my sleep and just bumming about town Friday and Saturday. One thought was that I would go to Zanzibar but, Tanzania likes to charge tourists US dollars to get there. I don't have that many dollars and they are a pain to get so I kept my money and went to a local beach. Someone said that the place to go is Oysterbay so I tried to get a bus there. The English language is a distant third option for many Tanzanians so actually getting there proved difficult. Finally I chose a bus that looked like it was going the right direction and told the conductor I wanted to go to the beach. I didn't get Oysterbay but I did get near. Now here is the important thing about travel, when you miss you may get something just as good or better. Where I was put out was at the ferry crossing where there are a very interesting couple of markets. If I'd had room in my luggage I could have picked up some awesome huge shells for Mom. I wasn't sure about US import law also so I didn't even ask the price.....sorry Ma. Just north of the markets the beach starts. There is a faucet on the outside wall of the market where guys were washing their clothes and washing themselves in the ocean. Be prepared for full frontal. Otherwise the beach was mostly mine...on a Saturday morning. There were tons of smaller shells on this beach. Further north storm sewers empty into the ocean and it's not as pleasant. Around this area I went back to the road where I noticed that if you are lucky you can get a

It's a nice tree but it doesn't really fit my landscaping

beach view room in your hospital. Yep, instead of expensive condos there is a hospital. Not everyone missed out on the opportunities to live across from the beach. Even further up was an expensive neighbourhood where at least a dozen ambassadors houses were. One was flying an an American flag but didn't have a sign I could see. I'm not sure what good being across the road from the ocean does when you build such high security walls, but there it was. I ended up walking about 8 miles to get to Oysterbay. If I had realized how far it was I would have gotten a bus but I could see it so I just kept walking.

Oysterbay

I didn't feel secure leaving my stuff on the beach and getting in the ocean so I didn't. That and I really don't like swimming all that much. I brought the stuff with me that I didn't feel comfortable leaving in the hotel room. If you want to swim but didn't come prepared they rent tubes and swimsuits should you feel inclined. I just ate lunch and decided I'd had enough sun. I got to the bus stop and the guy waiting there told me that I should ride the bus he was going to since that was the right one. Before we left I knew he was a politician but I trusted his word and rode with his bus. Never trust a politician. It was not my bus stop when we finally had to all get out. I spent a couple of hours wandering about downtown Dar but could have spent less since I did have the forethought to take a note of  where I really needed to be.

At one point in a quiet area of town I crossed a street and sensed that I was being followed. I headed straight and then sort of slowed and turned and as if lost. I then backed and headed what would have been left. Two of the three guys passed me and then also stopped and came back. I was sort of looking around and then went forward straight in the original direction. As I passed the middle one he reached out and grabbed my right sleeve. "HEEEYY!  don't be grabbing me" is what I said as I swung my fist up and hit him in the forearm. The blow was behind the plane of my back as I was moving away and not very powerful. It was powerful enough, or a show of power enough that he let go. Right then I was passing the other fellow who was on my left. The whole thing happened much faster than it takes to read and I'm still not sure just what all they had in mind. I just kept moving and they left me alone. Around the next corner I stepped into a store and got some ice cream to calm my nerves. A little later some street coffee to put them right over the edge but in a different sort of way.


I left Dar es Salaam at 6am on Sunday on the Taqwa bus line. Yes, you read that right. Their 'Q' is not the weak feeble one we use that has to go about all day with a  'U' crutch, theirs stands up like a proud and noble beast. As you can see I had little to occupy my mind until we stopped for the night at 9pm. Much of the day was spent looking at a country not worth seeing. The land was covered by low scrubby shrubs and looked entirely blighted. For what ever reason the bus company felt it was too dangerous to travel after 9. I was coming down with what turned out to be the flu and spent an uncomfortable night sleeping staying on the bus. I could have gotten a room but felt they were over priced and worried that I would oversleep as I took NyQuiltm. My final destination for the trip was Kigali Rwanda.

Monday the area of Tanzania as we neared Rwanda was much more beautiful. Rwanda itself was gorgeous. Most of the country is rolling hills and is very green. On the whole the people seem to have their act together. Somehow all the houses seemed nicer. The poor still didn't have as nice houses as the rich but they were not as shabby as those in Tanzania. For whatever reason there didn't seem to be any chickens around, just goats. I'm told there are chickens but I didn't see a one.

The reason for the trip to Rwanda, beyond adding two spiffy new stamps to my passport was to visit the Smiths. Kent and Michelle were both classmates of mine in high school. When I planned this trip I had a grand idea to visit as many of my class as possible and call it "one on one-21" because last year we couldn't organize a 20th year class reunion. So far, this is all I have managed to pull off, what with one thing and another.

Smiths

The Smiths have three children. Michelle is a stay at home mom and Kent works with youth sports programs as well as doing dicipleship. I ended up extending my stay by an extra day because of my flu. I wish I could tell you a whole lot more about them but I was pretty miserable while there and somewhat out of it. They were completely gracious and understanding hosts. If you must get sick in Rwanda I'd recommend doing so at the Smiths.

In my continuing quest to encourage you, my gentle readers, to abandon a life of debt I can relate that the Smiths are very much in agreement with me on this issue. Part of our discussion about money had to do with a co-worker of Kent who has back problems whom I'll call Peter.* Peter is one of those incredible Africans that all missionaries dream of. He is a firm believer with a heart for his countrymen who pursues his ministry with conscientious dedication. Kent is truly grateful to have him not as a employee (which he isn't) but as a true co-laborer. Some time ago he began to suffer from numbness and tingling as well as pain in various extremities. As he does not have much wealth Kent has helped pay some of his medical bills. No one he has gone to has been any help. In desperation Peter has sought out anyone who

Rwanda is a rainy place

might bring him relief. Various practitioners always have a high opinion of their services but after a number of treatments Peter is the same as ever. Finally Kent said he didn't want to keep paying for useless services when Peter wanted to try foot pressure point therapy. This naturally upset Peter. If it could help how could you not be willing to pursue it...well because it's not Peter's money that's how. The reality is Rwanda does not have the advanced medical experts that Peter needs and it may be the no one can help. Pray for him wouldn't you?

*Not his real name. I forgot to write it down so calling him Peter is not to protect his innocence but rather a concession to my bone idle laziness in the matter. I think, but am not sure, it was Micheal.