The Motorcycle from Hell: Kampala, Uganda

NOTE: Since I don't have a battery charger for my camera at present (it was in my baggage that was lost) I will not be posting any pictures on the blog since it takes juice to upload. I would rather save the juice to take more pictures and then post them later.

The bus ride from Kigali to Kampala seemed to roll on and on. Just when I was quite sure that we were nearing Kampala and that the hillsides were being more populated...the bus would plunge into another valley of vegetation and "bush". The bus left from Kigali at 9am and didn't arrive in Kampala until 6pm. I staggered off the bus in the evening light and looked for Canon John who I had emailed to meet me at the bus stop.

He was no where to be found. So I called his cell phone from a payphone.

"Canon John, how are you?"
"Fine...where are you?"
"I'm at the bus station in Kampala."
"Now?"
"Yes...I've just arrived."
"I thought you said you would come tomorrow in your email!"
"Oh, sorry...no. I came today. What should I do?"
"Well you should take a taxi to Uganda Christian University."
"Okay, how long should it take to get there?"
"Maybe 30 minutes because of the jam."
"Okay, see you soon!"
"Bye."

I considered to take a private taxi, but thought that it would charge too much for a 30 minute trip, and thought, "I've been sitting in a bus for 9 hours...maybe I should take one of these motorcycle taxis. It would be fun and cheap and faster than a taxi because of the jam."

Unfortunately, all my intuitions were wrong on this one.

I found a motorcycle driver who said he knew where Uganda Christian University was and would take me there for $1. I jumped on the back and we went zipping through the golden orange light through Kampala.

He slowed down at a sign that said, "Uganda University".
"No," I said, "It's Uganda Christian University." He asked someone on the street where it was and they said, "Oh, yes that is far. You should take a taxi."
My driver said that he would take me there for 40,000 shillings (around $25). I knew that was a lot, but I was impatient and wanted to get there soon.
"How much is a taxi?" I asked.
"It will take you a long time. A long time. I will take you." If he had answered my question I would have found out that it was only 2,000 shillings.

We headed down into the city center to an ATM and get some cash and then off out of the city. I was pretty tired at this point, and hadn't had lunch or dinner. It was dark by now and I was dehydrated.

My driver was quite a crazy one..."like the devil was chasing him" I thought. He would pass on the left and then on the right, and pass into incoming traffic. He would fly by pedestrians walking by...one time he hit one of them with his mirror, and another time full on hit one in the city. This didn't build much trust in the man or his driving. In addition...we can no helmets.

We went speeding out of town in the direction of the university and it didn't take long of him screeching on his breaks, nearly hitting bicycles and other motorcycles, and being hit by cars and I began to feel a bit nervous. We flew down a hill where there had been some water flowing across and felt the motorcycle weave, like we were on ice. The billowing clouds of unfiltered exhaust poured over the road from huge diesel trucks and soon I began to feel a bit light headed. It was pitch dark now and the incessant oncoming lights, the potholes, the insanity of it all...well I was scared. I don't usually get scared very easy...but I think this was enough. I felt completely vulnerable. I was completely lost. Didn't know if this driver knew where he was going. Worried I was paying him too much. Thought there was a good chance I would die out on this dusty, dirty road being hit by some huge dump truck. What could I do?

I didn't have any choice but to put my head down and wait. I began to pray. And pray I did. I prayed the Kyrie Elison over and over and over...probably a thousand times "Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy." I was terrified, but I knew I had to be brave and hold out.

We went on and on and all I wanted in the whole world was to get there, and number two was to get off that death trap of a bike. We finally slowed and stopped. I felt like a rag doll who had just been pummelled a dozen times by an angry girl. I hardly realized we had stopped. My driver began to talk to a man on another motorcycle in some language. The other man kept looking me up and down with these sly eyes of his...very amused that this foolish white kid had tried to take motorcycle to Uganda Christian University.

"What does he say?" I asked my driver.
With snake like movements he told my driver that he would show us there it was if we gave him 1,000 shillings.
"What are you saying...that we are lost and you don't' know how to get there?" I shouted over the din of passing trucks and cars. My driver pretended not to hear.
"I am not paying more money!" I said.
"Okay, I will pay," said my driver.
"This is not good. I feel sick!" I said. I thought about just getting off the bike and going and laying down in some ditch in the fetal position.
"You want to stop?
"No, no," that wouldn't help the situation in the least. I had to press on. "Let's go."

We turned around and headed back towards Kampala. I began to feel hints of panic rising in me...what if this snaky man was up to no good...what if I'll never get there...what if I die and no one will find me... But as these thoughts and emotions screamed to be released, I fought them all down. I had to think clearly and keep my wits about me.

Finally I saw a sign for Uganda Christian University. It was as if I was in a dream and didn't believe it was really there. I slowly got off the bike. It had been over an hour riding on that thing. My legs were stiff and my body ached. I gave the driver 30,000 shillings. "I didn't like that trip...you didn't know where you were going and it took too long!" The driver wouldn't accept the money.
"We agreed on 40,000. That was what we negotiated." He was right. I had agreed to the outrageous price and there wasn't anything I could do about it. I handed him the 40,000 shillings and walked off rudely without saying thank you.

I stumbled into the library at the University and said I was there to meet Canon John. The librarian was a kind man. He called Canon John and arranged for me to stay that the guesthouse on campus. We walked to the guesthouse and I fell in a heap on the couch. My head was spinning and I was dizzy. I kept thanking the Lord that I was alive. It was like a near death experience. I had some water, and Canon John came with some food for me.

I went to bed that night exhausted, but so happy to be alive and so happy to be in a safe place again.

The next day, I spent the day touring around the campus with Canon John, who is a professor there, meeting faculty and students, and getting the campus tour. We went to the chapel and Canon John introduced me to the student body.

He then took me back into Kampala for the afternoon. He had a meeting at the Nambarimbee Cathedral and we had lunch on the veranda of the cathedral guesthouse overlooking Kampala.

We went into town to look for a battery charger for my camera, but found that it would cost 150,000 shillings, over $100. I thought I'd pass.

Canon John gave me an extra phone he had for me to use while I am in Africa, so that miscommunication (like what led to my motorcycle fiasco) wouldn't happen again.

I moved from the guesthouse into Canon John's comfortable, but modest, house for the duration of my stay in Uganda.