A trip to Bukoba

Monday May 4thThis time our sleep was disturbed by a mosquito, then poor Meshaki woke up in the middle of the night coughing. There seemed to be a big discussion going on between pastor and mama, and they all seemed to go outside for some time. Meshaki was crying, and still couldn’t stop coughing. it gook ages to get back to sleep, especially as the rats were very active. One fell with a great thump in the main room, from the top of the rafters. After some wild dreams, I was woken again by the rats, then a bat – which landed on me twice! At one stage, it seemed to be being chased around the room by a rat, and that made me really nervous. I’m glad that vampire bats only live in South America, it was rather worrying to have it land on my shoulder on one occasion. Then the mosquito returned, and at 2 am when pastor’s alarm clock rang, a peal of thunder crashed out and lasted for some time. A second thunderstorm began just before 6 am.
We left the house at 7 just as the rain was stopping, aiming at reaching Rushonga in time to catch the 8 am boat. However, pastor kept stopping and looking back to the hills where black clouds were amassing. he said that yet another storm was brewing. He hoped we’d be able to reach the primary school on top of the hill.
We just got there when the rains burst – it poured for about 20 minutes then stopped as suddenly as it had begun. There were impressive displays of lightning and huge roars of thunder, some right overhead. It was too noisy to be able to hear pastor and the headmaster’s conversation across the other side of the room.
As we were now too late to reach Rushonga in time, we decided to head to another landing stage where the boat would leave from at around 8.30. Danieli ran ahead once we reached the flat near the lake to warn the boat that we were coming. They’d started to blow the horn, the signal that they were about to depart.
We were very surprised to find out after some time that pastor hadn’t joined us on the boat – on previous occasions he’s come ashore with us – but I guess it was a good cost-cutting measure, it costs 10,000 Tsh to make the round trip – a lot of money over there.
On the way to Kemondo, we stopped at two more places to pick up passengers, but unfortunately, at the second, on another island, another boat had already taken all waiting travellers and goods on board so we didn’t draw right up close to the shore. It was quite windy by this stage, and we had to stand out some way from the landing.
Once out away from the islands, the waves became quite large, and at one point, the engine stopped! This meant that we had no steering and we started to get tossed around by the waves, the boat rocking further and further over onto each side so that the water came close to coming inboard. I estimated that the swell was about 1.5 metres.
We were glad when the engine was able to be restarted, and we soon landed at Kemondo, at 10.40 am – a quick trip really.
We went to a small cafe where we’d picked up a snack on previous occasions – but as it was too early for lunch, they only had 2 left-over chapattis from breakfast – but these were really nice so we enjoyed them with some Fanta.
Whilst we were there, a man came in, claiming to have seen us in Bukoba a few times when we were living there. He said he used to work at the Fido Dido but now worked taking tourists around and organising trips for them. He said he could speak German well, as well as English.
He told us he could get us a ride in a taxi for only 1,000 Tsh each, which we thought was much cheaper than the fare we’d paid with Gayle which was Tsh 1,500 each. So we agreed – although I did say that we’d much prefer to go in a daladala.
However, once he hailed a taxi that had a couple of spare seats in it, it appeared that he himself along with his elderly father would ride with us to Bukoba, and that we’d pay for all 4! There were already several people in the car, but the driver pushed most of them out, much to their anger and our horror – and I was about to remonstrate with him and say that we’d go by daladala and to let the other passengers use the taxi when he slammed the boot lid down on our cases and shoved us into the car. It was a squash – seven or eight of us in total! We were glad when 2 got out part-way to Bukoba, and another one on the outskirts, so that we ended up the journey in a little more comfort. However, the driver only took us to the taxi stand, not to our hotel – but as it wasn’t much further, we decided to walk. It proved to be a little hard to shake off our ‘Fido Dido’ friend and his father, but eventually, once at the hotel, they left and we were able to proceed to our room in peace.
As it was only lunch time, we went to the Rose Cafe for a snack and were warmly greeted by the proprietor, who knows us quite well from our Bukoba days. Many of these cafes have some rather unusual-looking menus – you can get ‘paper’ steak and chips, bittings (snacks) including ‘burns’, and in Uganda one was selling ‘diary’ food.
We visited the main market – the Soko Kuu – where we had had a number of friends including an elderly lady who sells fruit, eggs and vegetables. We bought some fruit from her and had a good chat. She had had a very sore, swollen foot for some time. One of our ex-students just happened to pass by and looked very surprised to see us but didn’t stop to do more than say hello. Apparently he’s doing very well, has now completed Form 4.
Inside the main building, we went to look for our old friends, the Fataks – but they were not there. A neighbouring stallholder told us that they’d gone to Arusha. We were greeted by several people who wanted to know how we were.
We started off to go to the lake to find an organisation called BUDAP – the Bukoba Disabled Assistance Project – as we’d put a friend of ours in touch with them and wanted to find out more about them and see the project up close.
After a bit of wandering around and asking some passersby, we found it by the lakeshore – an office containing a few of the items the disabled members produce – belts, jandals, postcards, jewellery and traditional drums. The man I’d corresponded with via email was very welcoming and told us a bit more about the project, but said that it is really difficult to continue, as, once trained-up, the members tend to end up starting up their own small businesses and cease bringing in income to the project. They are looking for more sponsors, as they are lacking tools and equipment, and are thinking of working more with widows. The project was started with the intention of helping the many victims of polio to learn a handcraft and thus be able to sustain themselves and their families.
Our friend Aristides Petromulaki had been one of the fundis that worked on the building site at Harvest alongside Bruce. He’d become quite friendly, and had invited us to his home shortly before we returned to NZ. There, we were able to share the Gospel, and we heard a few months later that he’d become a Christian, also his wife and children. Unfortunately he then fell on hard times – he had an accident whilst working chipping stone, and had to have an operation on one foot. We’d sent over some money to pay for the operation because we knew the family couldn’t afford it. Unfortunately this operation had left the wound infected, and over the course of almost a year, his foot had swollen up, then his leg right up to his knee and it of course became extremely painful. He delayed getting medical help, believing his leg to be infested by a demon, but we assured him that if it were due to that reason, that he could command the evil spirit to leave in Jesus’ Name – and if he found no relief, he needed to get medical help urgently.
He had a second operation after Christmas – they amputated his leg up to close to his knee, and he started a long period of recovery. Thanks to our putting him in touch with BUDAP, he was able to get their advice and help, and ended up going to Uganda to get an artificial leg. Unfortunately this cost him a huge sum of money that he had to borrow.
Whilst on the way back to our hotel, we met a mama in the street, an old friend of ours and retired nurse, mama Hermalinda Gabriel. She was one of the people that we hadn’t been able to let know about our visit, so it was a special joy to meet with her like that, especially as she now lives in a different place from when we were last in Bukoba. She was really keen for us to go to her home the next day, and gave us her phone number.
We had a lovely dinner at the hotel of fish, chips and salad. I enjoyed drinking the spiced milk that you were supposed to put coffee in – but I liked it just as it was! Unfortunately we got well-bitten by mosquitoes every time we entered that restaurant!

Traffic jams

Friday March 25th 2011
We ate the provided breakfast, which is quite nice – mango juice, fresh tropical fruits, then toast and jam. There is also tea and coffee. We then took our bags across the road and down the way to the minibus taxi park, trying to dissuade all the hopeful taxi drivers (of both cars and bodaboda (motorcycles) from giving us a lift. It was quite cool and cloudy so it was easy to carry our packs - and we were travelling light – we only had one large pack and two small ones. It was easy to find a minibus going to Kampala, so we climbed aboard and didn't have to wait long before it was full enough to set off.
The first part of the ride was fine, travelling through the lush countryside as far as Kampala, but once in the city, the traffic became totally chaotic. It wasn't nearly as bad four years earlier when we’d travelled through the city on a big bus! Instead of the usual 40-minute trip, it took an hour and a half!
This time there were solid lines of gridlocked minibus taxis - some were stationary waiting for passengers and others were trying to get somewhere! In places they were lined up 3 deep.
Once we had disembarked at the Old Taxi Park, we tried to remember where the Gateway buses leave from, but unfortunately all we could remember was that you have to go uphill. We chose a likely-looking street and tried asking some passers-by, but they couldn't help us. One group of three young men wanted to chat with us, but after a while, Bruce decided that one man's attentions to me were a bit over-the-top! He had first called me "sweetheart", then wouldn't let go of my hand - so Bruce said, "Leave my wife alone," - which caused a number of questions! Qualcel bus 60,000 sh!!! + 10,000 Mutukula to Bukoba on Gateway. Stuck ¾ hour petrol station, passed bus depot 1 hour after setting off, ½ hour to leave city – at noon!
Eventually we found someone who reckoned he knew where the Bukoba buses leave from, but we were rather perturbed when he set off downhill. We followed a little reluctantly and ended up at a different bus depot where there was a bus due to depart to Bukoba about half an hour earlier than the Gateway bus would leave. I was rather surprised at the price charged for the tickets – the ticket-seller told us the fare would be 30,000 shillings – each! However, I assumed that the price was higher due to it being a different company and the steep rise in fuel costs. As it was getting rather late, and we weren't sure if we could find the Gateway depot in time, we decided to take the ride.
We were glad to be able to buy some water very cheaply from a lady who came onto the bus to sell her wares, and then it was time to set off. First the driver went to a petrol station and put just a few litres into the tank before setting off - only to find that he couldn't exit the petrol station because the traffic was so busy on the street that it was really hard to exit onto it. We were stuck behind several other vehicles and had to wait our turn. After a while, the driver got impatient and followed someone’s very silly advice to try another exit. So, after reversing from where we were, and manoeuvring to another exit, we found that it was totally jammed by 2 or 3 rows of stationary daladalas (minibus taxis), some waiting for fares! No-one would let us out, and eventually our driver caused some extra chaos by reversing back towards the pumps again, then returning to our first exit – as the vehicles that had been in front of us before had all managed to leave, and in fact, there were fresh vehicles queuing up there, waiting for the rare gaps in the traffic. By the time we were able to leave the petrol station, we’d spent 45 minutes there, and slowly completing a circuit of a block, we arrived outside the bus station again, a whole hour after we’d left! I was hoping that we wouldn’t re-enter it again to pick up more passengers! Fortunately we already had our quote and it was time to get going! Another half-hour later, we exited Kampala. It was great to be out in the countryside, the only disruptions to the traffic being the frequent judder bars at the entry and exit points of villages and towns, and the odd police check.
We made quite good time and reached Mutukula around 4pm. What a surprise it was when everyone started to disembark before the border post and started to climb on board a Gateway bus!!!!! The new conductor asked for another 10,000 Ush and I explained that I thought I'd already bought a ticket for the complete journey - oh no, that was just for the Qualcel bus! At least 10,000/= wasn't too much to part with, and it was a little amusing really!
We didn’t have to spend too long at the border, and were soon in Bukoba, very happy to be greeted by our friend Gayle Smith, together with an ex-student of ours, Hassan. She’s sponsoring him through school as his Muslim family disowned him when he became a Christian. Unfortunately he got a much lower grade than expected in the National Form Four exams, but was still able to get a scholarship for a school in the South East of Tanzania. We’d first met Gayle just a few months before we left Bukoba in 2007, when she came to start teaching at the school where we were working. She is now working at a different school.
We had time to buy an SIM card for our phone and a voucher before squeezing into a taxi with several other people. Gayle says it’s the usual way of getting to Kemondo now if you’re too late for the daladalas. But it isn’t very comfortable with 6-9 people in a car built for 5!
We were thrilled to be hailed by someone in the street near the taxi stand – our friend Aristides, one of the stone-cutters Bruce worked with at Harvest. He’d had an accident since we last saw him and had had his leg amputated below the knee late 2010 as an earlier operation had never healed properly and had left an infected wound. He’d managed to get an artificial leg and proudly showed it to us. More about that later!
Our taxi driver did a surprise detour on the way to Kemondo – to avoid a police check. He said the policemen is like Colonel Gaddafi!
Once at Gayle’s feeling rather weary after all our days of travel, we waited for tea. She makes a really yummy avocado dip. She’s sharing a house with a couple of other teachers at the mission school. We’d visited it briefly 4 years earlier.