Wow.
So, eventually I have found some (semi) free time. Feels like it’s been an age since I last got to write here.
I have been extremely busy, though I must still apologize for the lack of information flowing from me recently.
I’ll start off with leaving England, the flight to Miami was long and uneventful, it was definitely one of the more enjoyable ones, it seems God provides for everything – even a pretty brunette to sit next to and flirt with!
My one night in Miami was extremely enjoyable; I bought a $5 bus ticket and trundled down to the seafront. Once there I entertained myself by strolling through the bustling streets, and browsing the “Art Basel”, comprising of various different types of modern art – for instance, giant painted mice, startroopers lining balconies and graffiti-daubed toilets. Picking up whatever free posters I could find, I hopped back on the bus and had barely any sleep before getting up at 0400 for my flight at 0700 to Port au Prince.
On my flight I was mildly amused to meet a man volunteering with a company installing Living Water Treatment Systems (which I had just spent 7 months installing in Uganda!). I was glad to be able to provide information necessary to fix some problems we had discovered with the system. Arriving in Port au Prince I was immediately accosted by 2 men who grabbed my bags and would not relinquish them! I eventually gave up and reluctantly let the guys carry them, though I knew what was coming next. Meeting my contact, Dennis Maupin, I was then told by my self-appointed porters that they had carried my bags for the entirely reasonable price of $40. At this point I politely told them how unlikely it was that they’d receive that amount, and gave $5. Cheeky blighters.
Travelling through Port au Prince is probably a bit of an exaggeration; we came out into solid traffic and stayed there for at least another hour. Eventually we had inched past a particularly snarled intersection and managed to get moving at a more reasonable pace.
Having been in Uganda so long, and learning the lust-for-near-death-experiences style of driving I thought things couldn’t get much worse. I was wrong. Just when you thought it was safe to get back behind the wheel. The biggest vehicles initially making me almost defecate in my trousers were the giant “Mack” trucks. With monstrous bull bars these beasts roam the road, avoiding potholes at all costs and hunting smaller, terrified automobiles as motorbikes dart wildly, confidently squeezing through absurdly tight spaces whilst travelling at frightening speeds.
I have to say, Uganda appears to be a developed country compared to Haiti, the roads here are even worse and the infrastructure is non-existent. In the city the earthquake damage is drastically evident, the scale of destruction is incredible. As we gradually filter out of the black smog churning from pickups not merely heavily loaded, but dragging on the ground with the amount of people perched on the back, I was struck by the lack of vegetation, and the profuse amount of tents, shacks and other makeshift homes lining the hillsides. I am informed about the profuse amount of tarantulas that live in holes dug into the ground, and begin to pray that I don’t have the misfortune to be surprised by one of these frighteningly large arachnids. I’m told that they come out at night and like to hide in piles of clothes –strangely the cleanliness of my room has been exceptional recently….
Apparently voodoo has been semi-merged with some Catholic churches here, and voodoo in itself is still rife. Even if people proclaim themselves Christians they still fear the power of the witchdoctor. These voodoo practitioners have some pretty nasty tricks, one of which being the use of poisons to coat coins, and other ornaments, which they then leave on the street. For the unwitting person unlucky enough to check these objects a disturbing process occurs. The poison seeps into the skin, and the person dies. Or so it would seem. It gets worse, they don’t actually die, but are put into a deep coma, from which they could awake in a morgue, or a grave. But that’s not the weirdest part, presumably due to lack of oxygen to the brain, or the effects of the toxin, or both, they are not really aware of what they are doing once they awake. This is where our western idea of a “zombie” comes from. The “zombie” will stagger, dazed, unable to comprehend what they are actually doing, in a state of fugue. Often these people are killed by wandering into traffic, powerless of realizing the danger they are stumbling into. Creepy.
On the outskirts of PAP we arrived at my home for the next two weeks, a reasonably large house, I was given a room and we immediately started getting some plumbing work done for the national team who were coming to stay too. Eventually finishing up for the day, I was completely shattered and collapsed into bed, relishing the opportunity to sleep.
The next afternoon our national team arrived from Cap Haitian. Pleased to be meeting the guys I would be working with, I decided some male bonding was required, so invited them to join me in my boxing training. We had a great time; they may have been slightly surprised how aggressive the big smiley Englishman could become though!
The subsequent morning we started work, repairing pumps in PAP and the surrounding areas. Whether it was the day after or the next I can’t quite remember, but we ended up penned in on both sides of our road by burning tyre barricades. Bit of an issue trying to get around for repairs. Of course, these were the riots due to the fact that Jude Celestin had apparently made it through to the second round of voting rather than “Sweet Mickey”, strange considering the utter lack of supporters we found – though, what is expected when daddy’s still president? We took a back road out the first day and went in the other direction to a pump slightly out of town we knew was broken. Like many of the pumps in PAP the pipe was about 190ft long, which, and when made of steel, it’s pretty heavy! One of the other problems we faced was when a pump had been fitted with 20ft pipe instead of 10ft sections – it’s hard enough wrestling a 10ft pipe out and avoiding power lines, let alone 20 ft! Just to make things even more interesting, some of these still contained a column of water inside – increasing the weight incredibly. The tire barricades immediately blocking us had burnt out overnight, so the next day we headed into PAP, planning on avoiding large crowds and taking the back roads to try and avoid more blockades. We inevitably ran into a few more though. Our approach was to stop maybe 50ft away, then walk towards the barricade and find the leader and explain to him what we were doing. Once we had done this we had no problems and they promptly created space for us, though we were told that we could only go through at a price sometimes – if we fixed their particular well! This seemed like a reasonable price to make friends and avoid being pelted with rocks and attacked.
After 2 weeks we were finished, and planning our trip up to Cap Haitian. We had completed repairs on 21 wells in total, restoring the water supply to some 35,000 people. The day before we go, we’d had no problems at all - barring a flat tyre, and I was confident and happy that no damage had come to the vehicles. That is until – unbeknown to me, Dennis needed to go out and one of the workers volunteered to drive for him – of course this man managed to tear the wing mirror off and buckle the gate of the compound we were staying in. I heard a huge crash and ran out in time to see this fellow stepping sheepishly out of the driver’s door and offering it to Dennis.
Luckily no other accidents befell us that day and we left early the next morning for CAP. On the way out of the PAP area a horrific, gag-inducing stench of eggs enveloped us. As I looked out to our left I saw an emerald green pool of bubbling water, and realized it was a sulphurous spring. Continuing on our long trek up to CAP I realized there was something much greater to fear than the big Mack trucks. Remember the yellow school buses you see in American films? Know what happens to all the old, broken, no longer roadworthy ones? They get sent to Haiti. And used for cheap, death-trap transport. These yellow behemoths thunder along at a frightening rate, quicker than all the other vehicles on the road. We were keeping to what was an average of about 100kmh and these under-maintained human sardine cans of peril would career past us, blasting their horns, on blind bends and hill crests. Nevertheless, even these speeding beasts had to slow slightly for what lay ahead - one of the worst roads I have ever seen, considering it is the main route from Port au Prince to Cap Haitian. Climbing up steep mountain slopes, the cavernous potholes threaten to swallow you whole if you’re not careful, and we proceeded at a snail’s pace, steering well clear of the edge of the road, that had in many places simply eroded away, dropping to the depths below. These conditions and the motorbikes taking hairpin turns on the wrong side of the road to avoid these craters made the journey…. interesting! Coming down was not much better, the corpses of lorries and yellow buses attempting to make up time littered the road, mainly due to wheels or axles being ripped off whole after falling into a particularly deep pothole at speed. As we descended the mountains I realized a change had taken place, we were now surrounded by lush, vibrant greens, prolific in palm trees and cacti.
Eventually we arrived in Cap, and I was able to get a look at the city I would be based in. Or I would have been able to get a look if it hadn’t been so dusty. Up went the windows and down went the vision. I will never quite understand how a Haitian manages to travel on a motorbike with no helmet on these roads, the caking of dust on the eyes must become inches thick. I hear a cacophony of blaring horns, and see looming vehicles materialise in our path, barely avoiding serious injury as they choose collision over potholes, and we swerve wildly away. Passing over the river going into the harbour, I was amazed by the colour, and contents of it. I had grown adjusted to pollution in Africa, but nothing quite like this. The filthy black sludge teemed with debris, and the stench forced itself into your nostrils. Looking out I could see that the rest of the harbour was not in a much better state, this was not the Caribbean sea I had been expecting. Gradually we work our way out of the city, and onto a beautiful tarmac road that had apparently been laid by Italian contractors (paid direct, to avoid the certain “commission” that would be taken by every government official that it passed through).
5 miles out and we have arrived at the compound. It’s a reasonable size, has some fruit trees in the garden, and is surrounded by a cacti hedge. I finally get the chance to relax, and flop into bed early. Though not for the peaceful night’s sleep I had hoped for. At approximately 2am, the roosters start - the egotistic, insomniac, roosters. One crow sets off a nuclear reaction, each hateful bird feeding from the crow of the one previous, continuously reverberating around my home. I bury my head under a pile of pillows, and finally drift away into oblivion.
My boss, Jim, had taken pity on me over the festive season, also wanting to meet and do some training, he flies me to Michigan a few days after I arrive in Cap. Having no money to visit my family, the Mohneys kindly take me into their home, and allow me to share in their Christmas. A little snow and bitterly cold weather provided a big change from my previous environment, but their niece managed to get me a free pass to her gym, and I have to say I greatly enjoyed my time with them. Sadly it wasn’t all fun and games though, most of the weeks I spent there were in the office, accounting and doing reports training. Remind me to never, ever take an office job. Ten minutes in and I was already going mad.
So eventually I had to relinquish my gym pass and head back to Haiti, to what will be a very challenging number of weeks! The night I am at the hotel before leaving on the plane the next day, I get a call from Jim, telling me that, yes, I will need to drive down to Port au Prince, load up the truck with the contents of the recently released container and drive back. I will have to make this trip the moment I get into Cap, merely dropping off my bags then jumping into the truck for that heart racing drive to PAP, load the truck the next day, and leave. This is due to the fact that in 4 days the first American team arrives, giving me just 2 days to set up everything they have sent in the container (an abundance of flat packed furniture, washing machine, fridge, water heater, mattresses, cutlery, dishes and various other supplies), find a cook for them and set up the internet connection. Needless to say, those four days were completely and utterly insane.
Somehow, much to my incredulity, I managed to get most of the list sorted before my team arrived. Everything went reasonably well, and I really enjoyed being able to interact with a team. Luckily, they had been to Haiti before, and were ready for some of the difficulties that arose, so I didn’t have much whining to put up with! Though two of the lads were endlessly amused by my accent and some phrases I used! The week ended as a resounding success, with 13 wells repaired, and nearly 20,000 provided with clean water. The team left on Saturday, a week after arriving, and I spent that day cleaning up after them, playing music very loudly, and enjoying the chance to have some privacy.
Sunday. I took one of the 200cc Hondas out over the mountains to the beach. A brilliant ride, scrambling up a terrible mountain dirt track, spitting gravel and rocks behind me, I reached the top. And stopped. The sight drew me in, I stared in wonder. I can look west along the coast and the water is a clear, gorgeous turquoise that defies belief. I sat on my bike and just gazed, slack-jawed. Incredible. I started down the mountain, and eventually came to a small beach where I rented a boat for $5 and moved round to a slightly larger one. I swam, sunbathed, and after a few bananas it was back on the bike. Definitely the best way to spend your day off.
So the next day I went scouting for broken pumps in the mountains, another good excuse to get on the bike, I was more than happy to do so. I had a quick lunch of rice and beans, making friends with the locals I met at a small village.
Somehow mosquitoes had still been managing to find a way under my net, and I had been repeatedly bitten, this, combined with me forgetting my malaria medicine once or twice, ended up with me not feeling too well. If you’ve ever had malaria you’ll know how horrific it is. For those of you that haven’t, an intense fever, quickly changing from unstoppable sweating, to uncontrollable chills racing through your body, nausea and a destructive headache, all combine to make you feel pretty darn awful. I was silly enough to tell my mother how bad I felt. At which point, being the lovely, caring, affectionate, slightly neurotic mother she is, she decides to inform the nearby hospital on my condition, and that she’s worried I may die and need urgent medical attention. 10 minutes later I get a call, “Hello, is this Dan? We’ve sent an ambulance, they’ll be there in 5 minutes”. I was not particularly pleased at this point. The idea of getting out of bed, let alone having to now make my way to the hospital late at night was not on my list of things to do. I had informed my mum that I would go first thing in the morning, but as I heard sirens approaching (yes, sirens.) I realized I was not going to have much choice in the matter. So 15 minutes later I am sat in an emergency room, having my blood pressure and temperature taken. They lie me under a bright fluorescent lamp and I wait half an hour until they tell me to come back in the morning for tests. Great. Happy to be back in my own bed eventually, I sweat and shiver through the night, and am taken back early the next day. Going for the blood test I have to suddenly evacuate, just as I sit to have my sample taken, to stumble outside, fall to my knees and vomit, unwittingly, after attempting to find a private space, in front of a large crowd. Eventually I managed to get back inside, where they stole some blood, and informed me they needed faecal and urine samples too. I am given a cup with no lid and told that I have to buy my own container for the faecal sample. Being too weak to walk any distance I send Gelin to buy me something to use. He returns, matchbox in hand, and I look at him dismayed, “It’s the only thing I could find!” he exclaims. So, we then go in search of a bathroom, at which point I end up collapsing in the middle of the courtyard. Bit embarrassing, but at the time I wasn’t particularly worried about who saw me sprawled on the ground. Eventually, with the help of Gelin and some security, I am helped to my feet, and put on a bench to lie down. After an hour or two, it’s determined I have malaria, I get some medication and stumble back to the truck, holding onto Gelin.
Finally recovering on Thursday, I pick up the next team from the airport on Saturday. I have had to move out of my room, to allow the ladies a separate place to sleep, and am sleeping in a communal room with the rest of the guys. That afternoon, we go to fix a pump in the centre of Cap Haitian, and manage to get the submersible pump stuck in the well. Time and time again we try to fish it out, but it’s somehow locked solid in there. We end up leaving it until we can come back on Monday. I am informed on Sunday morning about how entertaining I was, even in my sleep, due to the profuse amount of conversations I had in my dreams. By Monday we have decided that the submersible will be just that, and declare it a casualty of the USA, forcing it to the bottom and leaving it there forever! The rest of the week was littered with problems, involving blocked wells, broken generators, and the second submersible malfunctioning. I had a brilliant time with the team though, who had never been to Haiti before, and enjoyed being able to share in their awe of a new foreign land.
Saturday was spent cleaning up after the team again, and Sunday I took the bike out to the beach nearby, riding up and down the coast, where at one point I stopped to help fishermen pull in what must have been a 200ft crescent of netting, amounting to a catch of about 20 tiny fish, some crayfish and a little puffer fish. An epic amount of work – and torn hands – for a depressingly small catch. On the way home I spotted some rocky hills nearby and set off towards them, discovering a quarry, having played on the slopes, and bounced off the rocks, I stopped and joined the men in smashing away at the walls of these hillsides, which amused them highly!
So now I am working with the Haitian team doing more pump repairs, I have just been informed that apparently it’s dangerous here, so the next American team won’t be coming. Which is very depressing, it’s nice to meet the new people, and it also means I get an awesome cook for a week, so I am a little down about that. I have been informed that Living Water will probably be able to let me go by the 12th of March, as they have found a couple who will be used as the permanent staff for my job.
Today’s events were slightly disturbing. I hear loud squeals and grunts, turning around to see a big pig chased by a pack of smaller pigs. I then notice this pig is snapping its head violently, shaking something small and white in its mouth. Turns out to be the now limp, lifeless body of a baby goat that the pig snatched, and as I watch, they charge round the field, fighting over the corpse of this creature. Eventually they stop and devour it. Never seen that before.
So if you’ve managed to get to this point in the blog, you must have been either very bored or skiving off work! I hope to make my contributions to this a bit more often, but I’m very busy with the reports these days, and it’s difficult to find the time, I hope you appreciate the update though. Please pray that I find out what I want to do after Haiti, having a bit of trouble knowing which direction to go at the moment.
I bid you adieu, I’m famished and need some tea!
Friday, February 11, 2011
Friday, December 10, 2010
First days in Port au Prince
Well, a day into my stay in Haiti and the house was blocked off by barricades of burning tyres and boulders that have been rolled into the road.
I suppose that sounds pretty dramatic, and if you are the UN, or anyone stupid enough to try and remove those roadblocks without carefully confronting the men guarding them, you could definitely be in for a rough time. However, we are lucky enough to have flatbed trucks with large vinyl pictures of pumps on the side, and generally once we stop and explain who we are to the guys they let us through. At this point though we have not yet encountered very large crowds, everything could change once the mob mentality takes hold. A World Food Program warehouse was burnt down a little while ago during the riots, which demonstrates how things can easily get out of hand. Our general approach at the moment is to stick to back roads and search for other routes if we see a large group of people. Usually, once they realize who we are, they just tell us where they have broken pumps and ask us to fix them.
The reason for the current spate of riots and roadblocks is that, having held the elections, there apparently became two leaders who will then be voted for in February in a final decision. The problem is one of the apparent forerunners, Jude Celestin, just happens to be the current Presidents son. The President at the moment is required by Haitian law to leave his post, and very strangely, considering the apparent lack of voters for his offspring, his son has still managed to get into the final elections! The other contender is a lady politician, who is very popular, but of course many people are very angry that other much preferred candidates, such as “Sweet Mickey”, a Haitian pop-star-turned-politician, have been knocked out of the running.
I imagine February will bring a whole new level of violence and riots if Jude wins. There has been a recount ordered and I have no idea how the results from that could affect the country’s temperament.
On the 20th I have to fly to Michigan for two weeks of report training (whoopee, paperwork!), and will try to update you before that. For now please pray that there are less barricades, and that the people stay friendly towards aid groups, it will make our work a lot easier and allow us to get many more pumps fixed.
I suppose that sounds pretty dramatic, and if you are the UN, or anyone stupid enough to try and remove those roadblocks without carefully confronting the men guarding them, you could definitely be in for a rough time. However, we are lucky enough to have flatbed trucks with large vinyl pictures of pumps on the side, and generally once we stop and explain who we are to the guys they let us through. At this point though we have not yet encountered very large crowds, everything could change once the mob mentality takes hold. A World Food Program warehouse was burnt down a little while ago during the riots, which demonstrates how things can easily get out of hand. Our general approach at the moment is to stick to back roads and search for other routes if we see a large group of people. Usually, once they realize who we are, they just tell us where they have broken pumps and ask us to fix them.
The reason for the current spate of riots and roadblocks is that, having held the elections, there apparently became two leaders who will then be voted for in February in a final decision. The problem is one of the apparent forerunners, Jude Celestin, just happens to be the current Presidents son. The President at the moment is required by Haitian law to leave his post, and very strangely, considering the apparent lack of voters for his offspring, his son has still managed to get into the final elections! The other contender is a lady politician, who is very popular, but of course many people are very angry that other much preferred candidates, such as “Sweet Mickey”, a Haitian pop-star-turned-politician, have been knocked out of the running.
I imagine February will bring a whole new level of violence and riots if Jude wins. There has been a recount ordered and I have no idea how the results from that could affect the country’s temperament.
On the 20th I have to fly to Michigan for two weeks of report training (whoopee, paperwork!), and will try to update you before that. For now please pray that there are less barricades, and that the people stay friendly towards aid groups, it will make our work a lot easier and allow us to get many more pumps fixed.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Off to Haiti!
Well, once again I greet you with that strange feeling of "Am I really going to be in Haiti in two days?!"
I have spent an extremely uneventful week in Bromley, Kent! Like much of the rest of the country things seemed to come to a standstill as it started snowing, and we ended up hiking into town to buy essential items, due to the car being trapped.
I received my contract last week informing me of some of my duties, which are mainly focussed around establishing a compound for Living Water International in Cap Hatien for visiting teams. I'll list just a few of them for you now so you have an idea of what I'll be doing.
Installing internet, assembling beds and furniture, general preparation of the compound
Looking after the groups of American volunteers that come out every two weeks
Setting up work for the national team each week
Hiring cooks, cleaners, translators
Writing reports on every pump repair we do, as well as reports on each of the teams that visits.
Just some of the responsibilities that I have been given, as you can imagine it is going to be challenging, and I'm certainly not going to be bored!
I have one more night in a Travelodge next to Heathrow, hoping that all the flights are running normally and not disrupted by the weather. I fly to Miami very early Sunday morning, overnight there, and arrive in Haiti early Monday.
Very excited, but of course a little apprehensive too, not looking forward to my mother drowning me in her tears at the airport again, and wondering just what I've let myself in for.
Well, you may hear from me in a week or two, depending on just how dangerous the slums in Port au Prince are (apparently one of the most dangerous, voodoo filled, cholera ridden places in the world!) if you don't, try not to assume the worst!
I have spent an extremely uneventful week in Bromley, Kent! Like much of the rest of the country things seemed to come to a standstill as it started snowing, and we ended up hiking into town to buy essential items, due to the car being trapped.
I received my contract last week informing me of some of my duties, which are mainly focussed around establishing a compound for Living Water International in Cap Hatien for visiting teams. I'll list just a few of them for you now so you have an idea of what I'll be doing.
Installing internet, assembling beds and furniture, general preparation of the compound
Looking after the groups of American volunteers that come out every two weeks
Setting up work for the national team each week
Hiring cooks, cleaners, translators
Writing reports on every pump repair we do, as well as reports on each of the teams that visits.
Just some of the responsibilities that I have been given, as you can imagine it is going to be challenging, and I'm certainly not going to be bored!
I have one more night in a Travelodge next to Heathrow, hoping that all the flights are running normally and not disrupted by the weather. I fly to Miami very early Sunday morning, overnight there, and arrive in Haiti early Monday.
Very excited, but of course a little apprehensive too, not looking forward to my mother drowning me in her tears at the airport again, and wondering just what I've let myself in for.
Well, you may hear from me in a week or two, depending on just how dangerous the slums in Port au Prince are (apparently one of the most dangerous, voodoo filled, cholera ridden places in the world!) if you don't, try not to assume the worst!
Thursday, November 25, 2010
At the end of my last blog, I briefly mentioned a Living Water Africa Summit in Entebbe that I attended. One of the ladies I met there informed me they had an immediate need for a volunteer in Haiti, to set up their new compound in Cap Haitien, repair pumps, and make sure the American volunteers that come out for a week at a time don't get killed!
Having thoroughly enjoyed my time in Uganda, but now finding myself on a plateau where I am not challenged I decided to apply for the internship. So approximately a month has passed, I have been accepted as volunteer Interim Field Staff and I will be arriving in Port Au Prince on the 6th of December, after a brief stop in England to see my family. After a week or so in Port Au Prince repairing pumps there, I shall be moving along with supplies and equipment to Cap Haitien to establish a base in the heart of the cholera outbreak. I am praying hard for God's provision of tickets, insurance and various other pieces of equipment that I need in Haiti.
So, I have packed my bags, and in a couple of days I will be winging back to England. Once again I have the same strange feeling that it won't really happen, that I'm not really going back. It's hard to imagine living in England again – however briefly it may be! I am growing to know this feeling well, yet I can still never quite comprehend that in a few days I'll be on an entirely different continent.
Please pray everything goes ok, that I travel safely, and that my irritating African cold would leave me!
Dan
Having thoroughly enjoyed my time in Uganda, but now finding myself on a plateau where I am not challenged I decided to apply for the internship. So approximately a month has passed, I have been accepted as volunteer Interim Field Staff and I will be arriving in Port Au Prince on the 6th of December, after a brief stop in England to see my family. After a week or so in Port Au Prince repairing pumps there, I shall be moving along with supplies and equipment to Cap Haitien to establish a base in the heart of the cholera outbreak. I am praying hard for God's provision of tickets, insurance and various other pieces of equipment that I need in Haiti.
So, I have packed my bags, and in a couple of days I will be winging back to England. Once again I have the same strange feeling that it won't really happen, that I'm not really going back. It's hard to imagine living in England again – however briefly it may be! I am growing to know this feeling well, yet I can still never quite comprehend that in a few days I'll be on an entirely different continent.
Please pray everything goes ok, that I travel safely, and that my irritating African cold would leave me!
Dan
Thursday, November 4, 2010
A Little Update
Firstly I must make my apologies for taking so long in writing this latest blog, it’s the rainy season out here and power is intermittent! I’ve also been moving around a fair bit so it’s not always been easy to find a computer to use.
One of the things that gave me a slight shock whilst driving in Kampala was my first encounter with a government convoy. The president here came to power through a coup and seems to be pretty paranoid about the potential for the same to happen to him. This means that we were first met with a police car swerving violently across the road into the path of our vehicle, sirens screaming, lights flashing, we very quickly took evasive action and plunged onto the hard shoulder. This initial police car was followed by a procession of about twenty other beefed up 4x4s, many with armed commandos seated on the specially designed police Land Cruisers. It turned out that there had been a big meeting in Kampala and that the president was heading back to his mansion in Entebbe. The sight of these insane motorcades has become commonplace to me now, and I have learnt to get off the road very quickly at the sound of a siren, less I end up with a high velocity police vehicle diving into my path again!
I had been lucky enough to be sent to Zambia installing Living Water Treatment Systems, with another technician called Henrik. I have to say, I was extremely happy to be going with him as he is only twenty-four years old and a really great guy with a brilliant sense of humour, who I instantly gelled with on arrival. Henrik is already very proficient with engines, plumbing, welding and various other skills that I could only hope to possess one day, and proved to be a hilarious companion during my time on the trip to Zambia. Needless to say, we got into a few sticky situations; I’ll share some of these experiences later in this blog.
So, it is 0500 and we are setting off in a Toyota Dyna for the Tanzanian border with Uganda, the trip will take approximately four days and we will drive over four thousand kilometers to reach our destination. A Dyna is a small, very rugged truck which we had fitted with an enclosed rear that could be locked, due to previous issues with Tanzania and transporting over $100,000 of goods through their country. They seemed to believe we would be intent on selling the items in their country and pocketing the cash without paying taxes! We had loaded up completely the day before with four LWTS’s and were completely packed, just being able to force Henrik’s and my bags in. The truck rear would be locked throughout Tanzania, so we had to strap small bags on the roof of the cabin containing clothes for us to wear on the journey.
An uneventful trip to the border about three hours away had given us a positive start, though it seems I had underestimated just how much trouble African borders were if you are carrying goods. Henrik and I got our visas cleared with no problem at all, but then we had to get the truck cleared. This process took about six hours – so much for the quick start! During which time we were mostly sat in the cabin waiting, this is the point at which Henrik decided to tell me that apparently we would have someone traveling with us. Looking at him with disbelief I inquired as to where he was going to sit, as there were only two seats , for driver and one passenger and a small plastic console with the gearstick separating us. The cabin was cramped with two people, my knees were banging against the dashboard and we had more bags inside with us. It turned out that the last time this trip had been made, our “agent” was sat on the hard (and, being positioned directly over the engine, very hot) plastic centre console. It seemed that this was again the plan! Were we going to be blessed with a midget of a man, who could easily perch on the divider and stay out of our way? Of course not! Henrik and I are both well over six foot, and it turned out our agent wasn’t much smaller. Not only this, but we also discovered he had a disturbing penchant for the music of Celine Dion and had brought along his own tape. After about two minutes Henrik and I quickly vetoed that selection for something slightly more upbeat!
The drive to Zambia through Tanzania was reasonably uneventful, luckily for us. Travelling through one of the national parks was brilliant, an elephant was stood right next to the road and we just sat and watched this mammoth beast demolish a few trees. Giraffes, gazelle, zebra and buffalo were all out in force – but sadly no lions! The only issues we had were coming to police checkpoints, where often we were obliged to give a little money in order to continue without the policemen making a problem for us. When you come across four young men holding AK47's at night on deserted roads it's best to give them pretty much anything they ask for!
We finally arrived at the Zambian border, where we ended up waiting for three more days to clear the truck and Henrik into the country! Henrik had a problem getting his work permit due to the fact that less than a year ago he had been working in Zambia, so they promptly stamped his visa with zero days. At this point we wondered whether we might end up having to drive back to Uganda. We were told though, that with a simple five hundred dollar payment that he could have his month long work permit. Eventually we gave up and, seething in anger, found a way for the cash to be transferred. I had no problem in this situation as I was on a tourist visa and was told I had three months I could spend in country!
Once we had finally gotten all the correct documents and visas we began the thousand kilometer trip to our base of operations in Zambia, trying to complete it in one day. More soda bribes followed, as well as a police post where we had run out of everything except mint imperials, which we then used to our advantage – though I had to demonstrate first that they were for eating!
Finally arriving at our destination we had to once again take the truck and LWTS's to be cleared, this turned out to be an frustratingly long process which took about two weeks in total. During this time we did what repairs we could to the existing systems, fixing chlorinators and other small problems. Eventually the truck was finished with and we could get on with the work needing to be done - or so we thought! Again and again we had issues with money, as Water Missions did not have an office in Zambia they were sending money into the account of another company we were liaising with. This money was supposed to go straight to Henrik and I to be used for materials, fittings, food and accommodation, which we would collect receipts for and then report back to Water Missions when we got back to Uganda. The company it was being sent to were starting to use it for other purposes though, and were asking for daily budgeting from us. Instead of giving us all the money at once and letting us get on with our jobs as Water Missions had proposed we had to wait every day until someone was going into town, and then ask them to take out x-amount according to the budget we had to prepare. Of course this slowed us down even more, meaning that Henriks work visa soon started to run out.
As we still had one more system to install Henrik had to head down to the border on an overnight bus and pay yet another five hundred dollars for a visa extension. After a couple of days we eventually met up again and managed to get the last system installed. It had been a stressful month and we were happy to be headed home.
After finishing the last system we decided we would get a head start on the gruelling thousand kilometer journey to the border, just a few hours to take a little from the next days driving. The first police checkpoint we hit is the point at which we found out the trip to Tanzania was going to be slightly harder than expected. We were pulled over and asked for our passports, I obliged and Henrik climbed into the back of the truck to find his. Two problems arose. One, that my apparent three month tourist visa was only valid for one month and had run out, and two, that Henrik, whilst at the border renewing his visa, had left his passport with the agent he had used.
Of course, this is exactly what the police were looking for, a white man with no visa, and a black man with no passport! I was told that I was under arrest and would be detained if I didn't pay about six hundred pounds to renew my visa. The immigration officer stepped aside with us and we began tentatively negotiating a slightly cheaper way of procuring a visa, when up stumbles a bleary eyed drunk man who claims to know me and starts trying to chat! One thing you don't need when negotiating a bribe with an official who is already threatening you with prison, is a intoxicated lorry driver, who has just been pulled over due to the clearly visible beer bottles rolling around in the cab floor of his eighteen wheeler truck, interrupting and stating that we are together. We ended up having to stop at the next town and wait for the official to meet us there and go with us to the immigration department late at night, where he calls in another colleague. We manage to get away with paying only fifty pounds and scarper damn quick as they seemed to have forgotten that Henrik has no passport at all!
So the next day we pray hard that we are not stopped by any more police. Twenty minutes into the drive and we are pulled over and asked for our passports. Of course, I now have no problems due to my visa renewal the previous evening but Henriks passport is still about nine hundred kilometers away at the border. We are asked into the small hut used by immigration and Henrik is promptly handcuffed to a window and told he is under arrest. At this point I think we both felt a mixture of emotions, we both knew he had a visa, and a passport, and that ultimately we would get out of the situation, though it could take a few days of imprisonment! I was trying extremely hard to conceal my amusement at seeing my friend locked to a window and after an hour or so realized that, in the company of a white man, the officials were afraid of taking a bribe, at which point I left and sat in the truck. Henrik comes out about twenty minutes later and takes approximately another fifty pounds inside to keep the officers happy.
Now, we knew that there were going to be many many police posts through Zambia due to the World Cup and were faced with the issue that we wouldn't have nearly enough money to get home if we had to bribe every official we met. Our solution? I would drive all the way and every time we came upon a village or town we would slow to a crawl and try to see the checkpoints before we reached them. Once we had identified a checkpoint Henrik would have to jump out of the truck and hike around them to meet me on the other side, where I would stop as soon as I was out of sight of the roadblock. I had absolutely no problems at any of the checkpoints, and we practiced this maneuver all day long, Henrik going through the countryside to meet me around the next bend.
Exhausted we finally pulled into the border town, got Henriks passport and were off into Tanzania the next day. Things went well, I enjoyed seeing the monkeys all over the roads and the amazing scenery that surrounded us. Suddenly, in the middle of a long plain, with no petrol stations or garages within a hundred kilometers the truck started overheating. Having experienced this problem before, we of course had to stop, and wandered into the bush in search of water, meeting a group of Masai tribesmen on the way which was great, the colourful beads they adorn themselves with and the way they stretched their ears was fascinating. On returning to the truck we discovered the fan belt had come loose, and set about repairing it with great difficulty due to the seized nuts which would not move, having no spanner set they quickly became scuffed, though eventually we sorted the problem! Or so we thought. A hundred foot down the road and the temperature gauge is rising. We now had to replace the fan belt entirely, with a old one that Henrik had happened to leave in the cabin from a previous trip. This was not a quick stop, with the lack of tools and problems getting grips on the nuts and bolts. Praying hard we finally moved out again, and eventually managed to reach our destination!
No more problems until we crossed back into Uganda, at which point ninety kilometers away from Kampala we end up with a flat tire. Not so bad, me and Henrik hop out and swiftly change it for the spare. Five minutes later we have two more flat tyres! The truck luckily has a set of four wheels at the back, and two at the front, which meant we could run – rather unsteadily – on just two wheels at the rear. We managed to get these flats on the dustiest section of road I have ever seen, and a young lad came out to watch the entertainment of us being thoroughly covered in dirt whilst swapping various tyres. At one point we had to prop one side of the truck up with a rock, which proved slightly unsteady... Henrik and I exchange a frantic glance as we see the truck toppling towards us, though we both realized quickly that it wasn't going to fall over. However, the young boy watching us definitely believed that his time had come though, and that if he didn't move it would be a swift, squashed end to his life. Out of the corner of my eye I see him dive down over the edge of the steep embankment, faceplanting into a large bush. This performance definitely cheered us up and we were soon finished and on our way to Kampala.
Having eventually gotten home safe and sound we settled back into work in Uganda, installing systems around Kampala. At the time I was still staying with Noel, in the one room we were sharing which doubled as a kitchen, toilet and bathroom. This I could cope with, but when we ended up infested with fleas I gave up and made a move to Kajjansi, a nearby town where some of my friends were living. Fleas are possibly one of the worst experiences I have had in my entire life. Covered in bites and itching from head to toe I was glad to get away!
Kajjansi was brilliant, I really enjoyed living there, I stayed at a guesthouse with no water, electricity or toilets, but it was my own place, and I didn't have to sleep with another man in the same small room. Every day as I walked through the town, some children would run up and grab my hands, continuing with me until my home, others would scream and burst into tears, sprinting back to the safety of their parents! I stayed in Kajjansi for a couple of months, and made loads of friends, it was a great time. I also bought a motorbike from Henrik, a 250cc Honda dirt bike, which needless to say (as I have never ridden a motorbike before!) was absolutely brilliant fun! Of course, its the easiest way to get around, though also the most dangerous – as I found out. The only time I actually had a little prang was riding along the main road, it was the middle of the day, and the road was clear. I could see a big charcoal truck waiting to turn onto the road from a side street, he noticed me and stopped before moving out, then for some inexplicable reason, just as I was coming up to him, pulled out in front of me and managed to clip me. I was knocked off, luckily I had not been going too fast due to the fear the cretin would do something just like this. At that point from the floor I turn to see said charcoal truck speeding off up the road, hefting the bike up I try to start it with no success. Quickly I jump on the back of a boda boda who has seen everything and we race after the truck. After finally catching up I made a lot of noise and got about ten pounds from the boss of the driver. Arriving back at my motorbike I pray the damage isn't too great, and apart from a slightly bent handlebar, broken indicator and a few scuffs on myself everything seems to be in good working order. So, I went out and had a nice big steak with the money I had gained!
Eventually, Water Missions decided it was moving base to Jinja.
I managed to find a home with two Americans, in a house with toilets, hot water, electricity (most of the time) and a veranda on the roof! I am paying the same amount as I was at my previous guesthouse in Kajjansi, and pretty happy with the situation. The house is right at the mouth of the river Nile, and has a row of palm trees along the front edge of the house which are home to thousands upon thousands of huge bats. It's an incredible sight to see these bats flock in and out from feeding, they seem to go out all day as well as at night time and sitting on the roof you get a great view of them. Before moving into this house I was staying at a hotel, which seemed reasonably nice at the time, though one morning I got up to have a shower and whilst going to turn on the taps received a rather large electric shock! Electricians here are not always particularly careful about the connections they make and it seems this one had decided to hook up mains voltage to the taps on the shower. I have managed to find myself a gym to which entrance is just fifteen pence, and am training every day with a boxing coach I met, having absolutely great fun - though my knuckles are extremely bruised now!
The project we have just started is Water for Africa, and is based all around Lake Victoria; which is the reason we moved to Jinja. This means a lot of the areas we are working in are most accessible by boat – even then the trip takes approximately a couple of hours to get to the villages. So we go back and forth every day on Lake Victoria, surrounded by the most gorgeous scenery you could imagine. It seems that every new village we arrive at there is always a drunk old lady who is trying desperately to get me to take a Ugandan wife – generally her daughter! Definitely some of the strangest encounters I have had. Most of the work at the moment is digging huge holes in the ground to be used for secure sumps, building treatment houses and laying pipes. Whilst digging sumps you of course get absolutely filthy, and all the locals just wade into Lake Victoria and get naked to clean up. Of course no one cares at all about this but once I need a wash I slosh into the lake and turn around to see a grinning group of about thirty women and children staring at me – at that point I had to make my way into the reeds, lest I flash one of the few white pieces of flesh I still own at them! We will soon be moving in the actual filter systems and chlorinators but at the moment the basics are still coming together.
I recently attended a Living Water Africa Summit in Entebbe, where I had the opportunity to meet loads of drillers and pump repair specialists. Amazingly enough they offered to put me up in a room (in a five star hotel!) and fed me all my meals which I was extremely happy about! I made many new connections and hope that some interesting options may arise from the people I met.
There is so much more that I have to tell, but I will be impressed if you have managed to get this far through my essay! Once again, apologies for it being so delayed, power issues, moving around and work have all gotten on top of me. I hope everyone is well back in England and will try to update you much more regularly again.
Dan Chant
One of the things that gave me a slight shock whilst driving in Kampala was my first encounter with a government convoy. The president here came to power through a coup and seems to be pretty paranoid about the potential for the same to happen to him. This means that we were first met with a police car swerving violently across the road into the path of our vehicle, sirens screaming, lights flashing, we very quickly took evasive action and plunged onto the hard shoulder. This initial police car was followed by a procession of about twenty other beefed up 4x4s, many with armed commandos seated on the specially designed police Land Cruisers. It turned out that there had been a big meeting in Kampala and that the president was heading back to his mansion in Entebbe. The sight of these insane motorcades has become commonplace to me now, and I have learnt to get off the road very quickly at the sound of a siren, less I end up with a high velocity police vehicle diving into my path again!
I had been lucky enough to be sent to Zambia installing Living Water Treatment Systems, with another technician called Henrik. I have to say, I was extremely happy to be going with him as he is only twenty-four years old and a really great guy with a brilliant sense of humour, who I instantly gelled with on arrival. Henrik is already very proficient with engines, plumbing, welding and various other skills that I could only hope to possess one day, and proved to be a hilarious companion during my time on the trip to Zambia. Needless to say, we got into a few sticky situations; I’ll share some of these experiences later in this blog.
So, it is 0500 and we are setting off in a Toyota Dyna for the Tanzanian border with Uganda, the trip will take approximately four days and we will drive over four thousand kilometers to reach our destination. A Dyna is a small, very rugged truck which we had fitted with an enclosed rear that could be locked, due to previous issues with Tanzania and transporting over $100,000 of goods through their country. They seemed to believe we would be intent on selling the items in their country and pocketing the cash without paying taxes! We had loaded up completely the day before with four LWTS’s and were completely packed, just being able to force Henrik’s and my bags in. The truck rear would be locked throughout Tanzania, so we had to strap small bags on the roof of the cabin containing clothes for us to wear on the journey.
An uneventful trip to the border about three hours away had given us a positive start, though it seems I had underestimated just how much trouble African borders were if you are carrying goods. Henrik and I got our visas cleared with no problem at all, but then we had to get the truck cleared. This process took about six hours – so much for the quick start! During which time we were mostly sat in the cabin waiting, this is the point at which Henrik decided to tell me that apparently we would have someone traveling with us. Looking at him with disbelief I inquired as to where he was going to sit, as there were only two seats , for driver and one passenger and a small plastic console with the gearstick separating us. The cabin was cramped with two people, my knees were banging against the dashboard and we had more bags inside with us. It turned out that the last time this trip had been made, our “agent” was sat on the hard (and, being positioned directly over the engine, very hot) plastic centre console. It seemed that this was again the plan! Were we going to be blessed with a midget of a man, who could easily perch on the divider and stay out of our way? Of course not! Henrik and I are both well over six foot, and it turned out our agent wasn’t much smaller. Not only this, but we also discovered he had a disturbing penchant for the music of Celine Dion and had brought along his own tape. After about two minutes Henrik and I quickly vetoed that selection for something slightly more upbeat!
The drive to Zambia through Tanzania was reasonably uneventful, luckily for us. Travelling through one of the national parks was brilliant, an elephant was stood right next to the road and we just sat and watched this mammoth beast demolish a few trees. Giraffes, gazelle, zebra and buffalo were all out in force – but sadly no lions! The only issues we had were coming to police checkpoints, where often we were obliged to give a little money in order to continue without the policemen making a problem for us. When you come across four young men holding AK47's at night on deserted roads it's best to give them pretty much anything they ask for!
We finally arrived at the Zambian border, where we ended up waiting for three more days to clear the truck and Henrik into the country! Henrik had a problem getting his work permit due to the fact that less than a year ago he had been working in Zambia, so they promptly stamped his visa with zero days. At this point we wondered whether we might end up having to drive back to Uganda. We were told though, that with a simple five hundred dollar payment that he could have his month long work permit. Eventually we gave up and, seething in anger, found a way for the cash to be transferred. I had no problem in this situation as I was on a tourist visa and was told I had three months I could spend in country!
Once we had finally gotten all the correct documents and visas we began the thousand kilometer trip to our base of operations in Zambia, trying to complete it in one day. More soda bribes followed, as well as a police post where we had run out of everything except mint imperials, which we then used to our advantage – though I had to demonstrate first that they were for eating!
Finally arriving at our destination we had to once again take the truck and LWTS's to be cleared, this turned out to be an frustratingly long process which took about two weeks in total. During this time we did what repairs we could to the existing systems, fixing chlorinators and other small problems. Eventually the truck was finished with and we could get on with the work needing to be done - or so we thought! Again and again we had issues with money, as Water Missions did not have an office in Zambia they were sending money into the account of another company we were liaising with. This money was supposed to go straight to Henrik and I to be used for materials, fittings, food and accommodation, which we would collect receipts for and then report back to Water Missions when we got back to Uganda. The company it was being sent to were starting to use it for other purposes though, and were asking for daily budgeting from us. Instead of giving us all the money at once and letting us get on with our jobs as Water Missions had proposed we had to wait every day until someone was going into town, and then ask them to take out x-amount according to the budget we had to prepare. Of course this slowed us down even more, meaning that Henriks work visa soon started to run out.
As we still had one more system to install Henrik had to head down to the border on an overnight bus and pay yet another five hundred dollars for a visa extension. After a couple of days we eventually met up again and managed to get the last system installed. It had been a stressful month and we were happy to be headed home.
After finishing the last system we decided we would get a head start on the gruelling thousand kilometer journey to the border, just a few hours to take a little from the next days driving. The first police checkpoint we hit is the point at which we found out the trip to Tanzania was going to be slightly harder than expected. We were pulled over and asked for our passports, I obliged and Henrik climbed into the back of the truck to find his. Two problems arose. One, that my apparent three month tourist visa was only valid for one month and had run out, and two, that Henrik, whilst at the border renewing his visa, had left his passport with the agent he had used.
Of course, this is exactly what the police were looking for, a white man with no visa, and a black man with no passport! I was told that I was under arrest and would be detained if I didn't pay about six hundred pounds to renew my visa. The immigration officer stepped aside with us and we began tentatively negotiating a slightly cheaper way of procuring a visa, when up stumbles a bleary eyed drunk man who claims to know me and starts trying to chat! One thing you don't need when negotiating a bribe with an official who is already threatening you with prison, is a intoxicated lorry driver, who has just been pulled over due to the clearly visible beer bottles rolling around in the cab floor of his eighteen wheeler truck, interrupting and stating that we are together. We ended up having to stop at the next town and wait for the official to meet us there and go with us to the immigration department late at night, where he calls in another colleague. We manage to get away with paying only fifty pounds and scarper damn quick as they seemed to have forgotten that Henrik has no passport at all!
So the next day we pray hard that we are not stopped by any more police. Twenty minutes into the drive and we are pulled over and asked for our passports. Of course, I now have no problems due to my visa renewal the previous evening but Henriks passport is still about nine hundred kilometers away at the border. We are asked into the small hut used by immigration and Henrik is promptly handcuffed to a window and told he is under arrest. At this point I think we both felt a mixture of emotions, we both knew he had a visa, and a passport, and that ultimately we would get out of the situation, though it could take a few days of imprisonment! I was trying extremely hard to conceal my amusement at seeing my friend locked to a window and after an hour or so realized that, in the company of a white man, the officials were afraid of taking a bribe, at which point I left and sat in the truck. Henrik comes out about twenty minutes later and takes approximately another fifty pounds inside to keep the officers happy.
Now, we knew that there were going to be many many police posts through Zambia due to the World Cup and were faced with the issue that we wouldn't have nearly enough money to get home if we had to bribe every official we met. Our solution? I would drive all the way and every time we came upon a village or town we would slow to a crawl and try to see the checkpoints before we reached them. Once we had identified a checkpoint Henrik would have to jump out of the truck and hike around them to meet me on the other side, where I would stop as soon as I was out of sight of the roadblock. I had absolutely no problems at any of the checkpoints, and we practiced this maneuver all day long, Henrik going through the countryside to meet me around the next bend.
Exhausted we finally pulled into the border town, got Henriks passport and were off into Tanzania the next day. Things went well, I enjoyed seeing the monkeys all over the roads and the amazing scenery that surrounded us. Suddenly, in the middle of a long plain, with no petrol stations or garages within a hundred kilometers the truck started overheating. Having experienced this problem before, we of course had to stop, and wandered into the bush in search of water, meeting a group of Masai tribesmen on the way which was great, the colourful beads they adorn themselves with and the way they stretched their ears was fascinating. On returning to the truck we discovered the fan belt had come loose, and set about repairing it with great difficulty due to the seized nuts which would not move, having no spanner set they quickly became scuffed, though eventually we sorted the problem! Or so we thought. A hundred foot down the road and the temperature gauge is rising. We now had to replace the fan belt entirely, with a old one that Henrik had happened to leave in the cabin from a previous trip. This was not a quick stop, with the lack of tools and problems getting grips on the nuts and bolts. Praying hard we finally moved out again, and eventually managed to reach our destination!
No more problems until we crossed back into Uganda, at which point ninety kilometers away from Kampala we end up with a flat tire. Not so bad, me and Henrik hop out and swiftly change it for the spare. Five minutes later we have two more flat tyres! The truck luckily has a set of four wheels at the back, and two at the front, which meant we could run – rather unsteadily – on just two wheels at the rear. We managed to get these flats on the dustiest section of road I have ever seen, and a young lad came out to watch the entertainment of us being thoroughly covered in dirt whilst swapping various tyres. At one point we had to prop one side of the truck up with a rock, which proved slightly unsteady... Henrik and I exchange a frantic glance as we see the truck toppling towards us, though we both realized quickly that it wasn't going to fall over. However, the young boy watching us definitely believed that his time had come though, and that if he didn't move it would be a swift, squashed end to his life. Out of the corner of my eye I see him dive down over the edge of the steep embankment, faceplanting into a large bush. This performance definitely cheered us up and we were soon finished and on our way to Kampala.
Having eventually gotten home safe and sound we settled back into work in Uganda, installing systems around Kampala. At the time I was still staying with Noel, in the one room we were sharing which doubled as a kitchen, toilet and bathroom. This I could cope with, but when we ended up infested with fleas I gave up and made a move to Kajjansi, a nearby town where some of my friends were living. Fleas are possibly one of the worst experiences I have had in my entire life. Covered in bites and itching from head to toe I was glad to get away!
Kajjansi was brilliant, I really enjoyed living there, I stayed at a guesthouse with no water, electricity or toilets, but it was my own place, and I didn't have to sleep with another man in the same small room. Every day as I walked through the town, some children would run up and grab my hands, continuing with me until my home, others would scream and burst into tears, sprinting back to the safety of their parents! I stayed in Kajjansi for a couple of months, and made loads of friends, it was a great time. I also bought a motorbike from Henrik, a 250cc Honda dirt bike, which needless to say (as I have never ridden a motorbike before!) was absolutely brilliant fun! Of course, its the easiest way to get around, though also the most dangerous – as I found out. The only time I actually had a little prang was riding along the main road, it was the middle of the day, and the road was clear. I could see a big charcoal truck waiting to turn onto the road from a side street, he noticed me and stopped before moving out, then for some inexplicable reason, just as I was coming up to him, pulled out in front of me and managed to clip me. I was knocked off, luckily I had not been going too fast due to the fear the cretin would do something just like this. At that point from the floor I turn to see said charcoal truck speeding off up the road, hefting the bike up I try to start it with no success. Quickly I jump on the back of a boda boda who has seen everything and we race after the truck. After finally catching up I made a lot of noise and got about ten pounds from the boss of the driver. Arriving back at my motorbike I pray the damage isn't too great, and apart from a slightly bent handlebar, broken indicator and a few scuffs on myself everything seems to be in good working order. So, I went out and had a nice big steak with the money I had gained!
Eventually, Water Missions decided it was moving base to Jinja.
I managed to find a home with two Americans, in a house with toilets, hot water, electricity (most of the time) and a veranda on the roof! I am paying the same amount as I was at my previous guesthouse in Kajjansi, and pretty happy with the situation. The house is right at the mouth of the river Nile, and has a row of palm trees along the front edge of the house which are home to thousands upon thousands of huge bats. It's an incredible sight to see these bats flock in and out from feeding, they seem to go out all day as well as at night time and sitting on the roof you get a great view of them. Before moving into this house I was staying at a hotel, which seemed reasonably nice at the time, though one morning I got up to have a shower and whilst going to turn on the taps received a rather large electric shock! Electricians here are not always particularly careful about the connections they make and it seems this one had decided to hook up mains voltage to the taps on the shower. I have managed to find myself a gym to which entrance is just fifteen pence, and am training every day with a boxing coach I met, having absolutely great fun - though my knuckles are extremely bruised now!
The project we have just started is Water for Africa, and is based all around Lake Victoria; which is the reason we moved to Jinja. This means a lot of the areas we are working in are most accessible by boat – even then the trip takes approximately a couple of hours to get to the villages. So we go back and forth every day on Lake Victoria, surrounded by the most gorgeous scenery you could imagine. It seems that every new village we arrive at there is always a drunk old lady who is trying desperately to get me to take a Ugandan wife – generally her daughter! Definitely some of the strangest encounters I have had. Most of the work at the moment is digging huge holes in the ground to be used for secure sumps, building treatment houses and laying pipes. Whilst digging sumps you of course get absolutely filthy, and all the locals just wade into Lake Victoria and get naked to clean up. Of course no one cares at all about this but once I need a wash I slosh into the lake and turn around to see a grinning group of about thirty women and children staring at me – at that point I had to make my way into the reeds, lest I flash one of the few white pieces of flesh I still own at them! We will soon be moving in the actual filter systems and chlorinators but at the moment the basics are still coming together.
I recently attended a Living Water Africa Summit in Entebbe, where I had the opportunity to meet loads of drillers and pump repair specialists. Amazingly enough they offered to put me up in a room (in a five star hotel!) and fed me all my meals which I was extremely happy about! I made many new connections and hope that some interesting options may arise from the people I met.
There is so much more that I have to tell, but I will be impressed if you have managed to get this far through my essay! Once again, apologies for it being so delayed, power issues, moving around and work have all gotten on top of me. I hope everyone is well back in England and will try to update you much more regularly again.
Dan Chant
Monday, May 24, 2010
Just past the two week mark.....
Well, as you can see I've been naughty and neglected my writing duties for a few days!
Though I imagine the updates will not become more frequent, or I may end up boring you...
I have experienced a number of events recently which I feel merit a mention on here, for instance:
I met a black man with a swastika tattooed on his arm - no I didn't ask, just peered and probably appeared slightly bemused, this was on one of the welders we are employing to beef up some door defenses for a treatment system
I have witnessed literally tens of thousands of caterpillars descending from two particular trees in our garden at the guest house, they seem to spin silk like a spider and abseil down. Once these creatures reach the ground they end up climbing onto walls, windows and cars creating their cocoons protruding like nothing I've ever seen before... There's a picture on the slideshow to the right if you look long enough!
Whilst sitting in the car, waiting for Thomas to arrive back from an errand I saw a man walking around with a bucket full of what was obviously something edible, though I couldn't discern what exactly. My curiosity got the better of me and I bought a handful of what turned out to be deep fried grasshoppers! Thomas and his brother declined my offer to finish off what I assumed was a local delicacy - I found this slightly ominous and assume they know something I don't...
A slightly less pleasant experience was being informed about the child sacrifices that sometimes still take place here. A young boy or girl will be kidnapped and never found, the sacrifice is meant to bring good luck, I can hardly imagine how. There are ways to prevent your child being used for a sacrifice, circumcising the boys and piercing the girls’ ears will protect them from this, thankfully, now rare occurrence.
I saw my first Ugandan snake, a gorgeous, lithe, vivid green one, only about 2 feet long, he shot off into the grass just a moment after I set my eyes upon him. Invisible from then, I had no chance of catching the serpent, and eagerly await my next chance…
Getting thrown in at the deep end is the best way of learning I think, and when I jumped onto a 250 Honda dirt bike, going to get my haircut, having been told “This is the clutch, brake and the gearshift” I was, although a little nervous, extremely excited! The first part of trip was a treacherously steep downhill road, deeply rutted and littered with football sized rocks, at this moment I was trundling very slowly past lots of children pointing and shouting at the shock of seeing a “mzungu” riding a motorbike. After getting onto the tarmac though, I started to really enjoy myself, and blasted my way along to “Salon Obama”. Yes, that’s right, of course everyone here loves the fact that there is now a black president, and my barber was no exception! About 60p for a buzzcut and I was satisfied, though getting back up that dirt track was even scarier than going down!
My second chance to get on what I now know affectionately as “The Deathtrap” came when I was asked to go about 9km into town to pick up Thomas, as traffic was at a standstill (again). This was at night, and as you can imagine, I relished the challenge! Getting there was hard enough, the minibuses especially often pull over right in front of bikers (and police Land Cruisers it turns out, as I observed just 20 ft ahead of me!) ensuring the ride is always pumped with adrenaline and a fear of almost certain injury. Alas, I made it, Thomas hopped on the back and for the first time I had a pillion too! Absolutely great fun!
I managed to finally get my first days work last week too which was great! After a 5 hour trip up to Kumi (Henry and myself sharing the driving, in a Mistubishi L200 – see the grin?) we stayed overnight in a guesthouse, then were up at 0700 to start work on three different systems. The first required us to carry an oil drum full of rocks about 300 metres over marshy, muddy land, and ended up taking about 3 hours (though not just for this one carrying activity, it involved many other problems that were addressed!).
The next was the big problem of the day it seemed – a pump didn’t work, and was replaced with a larger one, at which point we discovered there was no problem with the original pump! We had to check the entirety of the wiring for about 1-2 kms, finding no fault we simply reconnected the previously “broken” pump and discovered, to our irritation, that it somehow worked again….. This took us to about 1800, at which point we were very tired, and I was extremely sunburnt and starting to seriously suffer from the lack of water and being out in the blazing sun all day. Calling upon our last reserves we got the final job finished promptly and managed to leave at about 2030.
Much of the work we ended up doing involved a couple of us slogging inside the wells (surrounded and climbed on by trapped huge toads!) and I think you may be able to see a couple of pictures of me inside on the slideshow. Although pretty non-stop – especially for Africa – I had the opportunity to meet, and horrifically frighten some of the children, as it turns out many of them had never seen a white man before! I also got the chance to witness hundreds of bats emerging from the roof of a house, the incredible number surprised me, they just didn’t stop pouring out for about 5 minutes.
Of course, once finished we still had 5 hours of insane driving ahead of us, lorries and various other vehicles, many with no lights, screaming towards us, and stopped inexplicably in the middle of the road causing us to swerve wildly at times to avoid a certain collision. This and the huge potholes distributed over the road made the drive back an experience…. We arrived home at about 0130, and fell into bed, shattered but happy at the thought that hundreds of people would now be able to drink safely again thanks to us.
The next morning though we were up early again, unloading a 40ft shipping container, filled with solar panels, swimming pools and other supplies. The swimming pools are left over from Haiti, used as sedimentation tanks and emergency water storage solutions apparently (I still reckon it’s just a good excuse for a bit of a pool party!)
A slightly unnerving event occurred the other day, when, in rush hour traffic in Kampala, a policeman suddenly appears at our window, telling us to open the back door for him to get in and then rattling off a load of Ugandan at Thomas. Confused, with a slight fear of what this man was going to ask from us (he was wearing a brown uniform of a normal policeman, not the white of traffic enforcer) I looked at Thomas, who shook his head vigorously, then sped off round the other vehicles! Something wasn’t right about this guy, and the next thing we know, he’s jumped on a motorbike taxi (called boda boda’s) and instructed the man to pull up in front of us! By this point we’re getting a little worried! Thomas once again pulls away, and puts his foot down, only to be caught in the slow moving traffic and have the policeman overtake us again! The man is still waving angrily at us, and speeds ahead, at which point Thomas pulls a U-turn and we shoot off in the other direction. Don’t take this as us reverting to a criminal state of mind, running from the police, they are notoriously corrupt and will try and get a bribe out of anyone, especially a white man. There was something wrong with the way he was acting, and he was no traffic cop, so we just got out of there!
These boda boda’s, apart from apparently being part-time police vehicles, also seem to be able to be manipulated into carrying incredible loads. I have seen one with a stack of 5 mattresses, another carrying 20 stacked plastic garden chairs, yet another with the current record of 5 people squeezed on, giant bakery delivery boxes strapped on the rear, as well as a outboard motors, huge bunches of bananas and one carrying a machine used to flatten tarmac, about the size of a pneumatic drill! I will endeavor to provide you with pictures of some of the larger loads so you can see what I mean!
Well, I will leave it at that for now, altogether far too much, but if you’ve managed to get to the end, congratulations! Maybe you'll hear from me again in a couple of weeks...
Though I imagine the updates will not become more frequent, or I may end up boring you...
I have experienced a number of events recently which I feel merit a mention on here, for instance:
I met a black man with a swastika tattooed on his arm - no I didn't ask, just peered and probably appeared slightly bemused, this was on one of the welders we are employing to beef up some door defenses for a treatment system
I have witnessed literally tens of thousands of caterpillars descending from two particular trees in our garden at the guest house, they seem to spin silk like a spider and abseil down. Once these creatures reach the ground they end up climbing onto walls, windows and cars creating their cocoons protruding like nothing I've ever seen before... There's a picture on the slideshow to the right if you look long enough!
Whilst sitting in the car, waiting for Thomas to arrive back from an errand I saw a man walking around with a bucket full of what was obviously something edible, though I couldn't discern what exactly. My curiosity got the better of me and I bought a handful of what turned out to be deep fried grasshoppers! Thomas and his brother declined my offer to finish off what I assumed was a local delicacy - I found this slightly ominous and assume they know something I don't...
A slightly less pleasant experience was being informed about the child sacrifices that sometimes still take place here. A young boy or girl will be kidnapped and never found, the sacrifice is meant to bring good luck, I can hardly imagine how. There are ways to prevent your child being used for a sacrifice, circumcising the boys and piercing the girls’ ears will protect them from this, thankfully, now rare occurrence.
I saw my first Ugandan snake, a gorgeous, lithe, vivid green one, only about 2 feet long, he shot off into the grass just a moment after I set my eyes upon him. Invisible from then, I had no chance of catching the serpent, and eagerly await my next chance…
Getting thrown in at the deep end is the best way of learning I think, and when I jumped onto a 250 Honda dirt bike, going to get my haircut, having been told “This is the clutch, brake and the gearshift” I was, although a little nervous, extremely excited! The first part of trip was a treacherously steep downhill road, deeply rutted and littered with football sized rocks, at this moment I was trundling very slowly past lots of children pointing and shouting at the shock of seeing a “mzungu” riding a motorbike. After getting onto the tarmac though, I started to really enjoy myself, and blasted my way along to “Salon Obama”. Yes, that’s right, of course everyone here loves the fact that there is now a black president, and my barber was no exception! About 60p for a buzzcut and I was satisfied, though getting back up that dirt track was even scarier than going down!
My second chance to get on what I now know affectionately as “The Deathtrap” came when I was asked to go about 9km into town to pick up Thomas, as traffic was at a standstill (again). This was at night, and as you can imagine, I relished the challenge! Getting there was hard enough, the minibuses especially often pull over right in front of bikers (and police Land Cruisers it turns out, as I observed just 20 ft ahead of me!) ensuring the ride is always pumped with adrenaline and a fear of almost certain injury. Alas, I made it, Thomas hopped on the back and for the first time I had a pillion too! Absolutely great fun!
I managed to finally get my first days work last week too which was great! After a 5 hour trip up to Kumi (Henry and myself sharing the driving, in a Mistubishi L200 – see the grin?) we stayed overnight in a guesthouse, then were up at 0700 to start work on three different systems. The first required us to carry an oil drum full of rocks about 300 metres over marshy, muddy land, and ended up taking about 3 hours (though not just for this one carrying activity, it involved many other problems that were addressed!).
The next was the big problem of the day it seemed – a pump didn’t work, and was replaced with a larger one, at which point we discovered there was no problem with the original pump! We had to check the entirety of the wiring for about 1-2 kms, finding no fault we simply reconnected the previously “broken” pump and discovered, to our irritation, that it somehow worked again….. This took us to about 1800, at which point we were very tired, and I was extremely sunburnt and starting to seriously suffer from the lack of water and being out in the blazing sun all day. Calling upon our last reserves we got the final job finished promptly and managed to leave at about 2030.
Much of the work we ended up doing involved a couple of us slogging inside the wells (surrounded and climbed on by trapped huge toads!) and I think you may be able to see a couple of pictures of me inside on the slideshow. Although pretty non-stop – especially for Africa – I had the opportunity to meet, and horrifically frighten some of the children, as it turns out many of them had never seen a white man before! I also got the chance to witness hundreds of bats emerging from the roof of a house, the incredible number surprised me, they just didn’t stop pouring out for about 5 minutes.
Of course, once finished we still had 5 hours of insane driving ahead of us, lorries and various other vehicles, many with no lights, screaming towards us, and stopped inexplicably in the middle of the road causing us to swerve wildly at times to avoid a certain collision. This and the huge potholes distributed over the road made the drive back an experience…. We arrived home at about 0130, and fell into bed, shattered but happy at the thought that hundreds of people would now be able to drink safely again thanks to us.
The next morning though we were up early again, unloading a 40ft shipping container, filled with solar panels, swimming pools and other supplies. The swimming pools are left over from Haiti, used as sedimentation tanks and emergency water storage solutions apparently (I still reckon it’s just a good excuse for a bit of a pool party!)
A slightly unnerving event occurred the other day, when, in rush hour traffic in Kampala, a policeman suddenly appears at our window, telling us to open the back door for him to get in and then rattling off a load of Ugandan at Thomas. Confused, with a slight fear of what this man was going to ask from us (he was wearing a brown uniform of a normal policeman, not the white of traffic enforcer) I looked at Thomas, who shook his head vigorously, then sped off round the other vehicles! Something wasn’t right about this guy, and the next thing we know, he’s jumped on a motorbike taxi (called boda boda’s) and instructed the man to pull up in front of us! By this point we’re getting a little worried! Thomas once again pulls away, and puts his foot down, only to be caught in the slow moving traffic and have the policeman overtake us again! The man is still waving angrily at us, and speeds ahead, at which point Thomas pulls a U-turn and we shoot off in the other direction. Don’t take this as us reverting to a criminal state of mind, running from the police, they are notoriously corrupt and will try and get a bribe out of anyone, especially a white man. There was something wrong with the way he was acting, and he was no traffic cop, so we just got out of there!
These boda boda’s, apart from apparently being part-time police vehicles, also seem to be able to be manipulated into carrying incredible loads. I have seen one with a stack of 5 mattresses, another carrying 20 stacked plastic garden chairs, yet another with the current record of 5 people squeezed on, giant bakery delivery boxes strapped on the rear, as well as a outboard motors, huge bunches of bananas and one carrying a machine used to flatten tarmac, about the size of a pneumatic drill! I will endeavor to provide you with pictures of some of the larger loads so you can see what I mean!
Well, I will leave it at that for now, altogether far too much, but if you’ve managed to get to the end, congratulations! Maybe you'll hear from me again in a couple of weeks...
Monday, May 10, 2010
First Couple of Days
So, 0745 on the 9/5/10, Dan Chant arrives in Entebbe, Uganda, a little late after flying round a thunderstorm for 30 minutes - at least I'm already adjusting back to African timings! (For those of you who don't know, everything must be at least 30-60 minutes late, at a minimum!)
Luckily though, the man I have been corresponding with in relation to my visit (Thomas) was there on time, and broke through the crowd to grasp my hand with a big warm smile on his face. After getting the bags into the Hilux in the torrential rain, we headed to the office, giving me my first chance to gaze upon Ugandan territory with my own eyes. The lush green scenery immediately grabs my attention, and a multitude of different exotic trees and bushes rush past me. These are interspersed with crudely painted houses and huts, made from a varying source of materials, many using homemade clay bricks and corrugated iron for the most basic of structures.
Arriving at the office (a large house on the side of a hill) I meet a couple more of the people I will be working with, Marten and Christine. Thomas heads off at about 0900, explaining he has to go to church and then some meetings, he says he will be back "in the evening" (yes, this is ominous!). I stay chatting for a while then head to a spare room to get some sleep as, after being sat between two very chatty nocturnal Ugandans on the plane, I am absolutely shattered.
After awakening from my deep and refreshing slumber I take the opportunity - as it has stopped raining, to explore a little of my immediate surroundings. I can already see glimpses of the magnificent Lake Victoria from the huge windows of the office and am eager to get a better view. Hiking further up the hill takes me to an absolutely awe inspiring position, I scan the area and am speechless. A huge sea of vibrant greens lie in front of me, and beyond that the incredible, gigantic Lake. Crickets play their shrill melodies incessantly, hundreds of birds sing peculiar and pretty songs, and I keep checking the long grass for snakes I may accidentally stumble upon in my current state of wonder!
It soon starts to rain again though, and being a little way out of town I cannot go anywhere for the rest of the day, I finish my book and wait for Thomas to arrive so we can get back to his place and start getting settled.
2230 and Thomas gets back! We jump into the Hilux and drive to his home, it is still under construction and so has no running water or electricity yet, but he makes me feel very welcome and is proving to be a brilliant companion. Sadly there is nowhere for me to put my things, so I leave them in the suitcases and jump into bed, immediately dropping off to sleep. An uninterrupted night, except for when I manage (due to my irritatingly long legs!) to pull down not only my mosquito net, but Thomas's too! After a quick fix I climb back in and sleep til morning.
The next day brings sun and another new morning chorus from multitudes of noisy animals and insects! We head to the office - me driving the V6 Hilux (I imagine you can picture the gigantic grin on my face, bouncing down deeply rutted dirt tracks in that monster), getting onto the main roads I am amazed at the absolute death-wish of every single man and woman hurtling along on motorbikes (of course without helmets - you just get too hot), speeding past us in the most rickety 4x4s and minibuses, as well as the huge trucks and buses forcing their way through the traffic, making insane manoeuvres into the path of oncoming vehicles. Its definitely more exciting driving here than in England!
Arriving at the office there is a brief staff meeting, formally introducing myself and discussing the issues we face in the coming weeks. We won't start work properly until Thursday, when Clark Mcnutt (the boss) arrives.
After the meeting a quick lunch is followed by a trip into the centre of Kampala with Thomas to run some errands. The urge to get hit by a passing vehicle seems to draw people into the road, though their apparent lust for injuries in the noisy cacophony of teeming, speeding traffic seems to be miraculously denied in most cases! After parking the car we sort out the unlocking of my mobile phone, and head down to a printing shop, situated in the basement beneath some buildings on a main street. It turns out that printing is big business, as after chatting for a while with a man named Kim, learning about his operation of a huge Heidelburg press I go away to explore a little. Walking down the back streets I am heckled affectionately (I hope!) by many stall holders, to which any reply I make is met by huge smiles, raucous laughter and screams by the women - apparently white men walking alone is a rare thing to see as the men, although more reserved in their response once I reply to them, also stare unashamedly at me as I pass by.
Strolling back along the street I turn into what I thought was the same printing basement as before, though it turns out it is an entirely separate operation, so whilst trying to look as relaxed and comfortable as I could, hiding my embarrassment, I quickly went back upstairs, with about 50 pairs of dark brown eyes watching my every move! As I recover, laughing at my misfortune I turn into the next basement - needless to say, yet again this was not the correct one, and I had to go through the entire experience again! Luckily for me, the next set of stairs took me back down to my friend Thomas, and a feeling of relief of not having to relive that humiliation again!
A little bit of food shopping and suddenly it's 1800, we drive back to the offices and I chat to the parents and Bex for a while on Skype. I have no idea where the time goes but this blog has ended at 2200, and we still have to drive home to our cosy one room house.
All in all, my first real day here has been great, everyone is friendly, and seem eager to converse with a white man or "mzungu" as they call us! Thomas has been very welcoming, and I'm glad that we get on so well, it makes me feel a lot more comfortable here, but no doubt at some point the fact that I won't be home for a year will hit. I am not looking forward to that moment, as its always a little hard, but thus far things are all good, and I can't wait to get started on some real work!
Luckily though, the man I have been corresponding with in relation to my visit (Thomas) was there on time, and broke through the crowd to grasp my hand with a big warm smile on his face. After getting the bags into the Hilux in the torrential rain, we headed to the office, giving me my first chance to gaze upon Ugandan territory with my own eyes. The lush green scenery immediately grabs my attention, and a multitude of different exotic trees and bushes rush past me. These are interspersed with crudely painted houses and huts, made from a varying source of materials, many using homemade clay bricks and corrugated iron for the most basic of structures.
Arriving at the office (a large house on the side of a hill) I meet a couple more of the people I will be working with, Marten and Christine. Thomas heads off at about 0900, explaining he has to go to church and then some meetings, he says he will be back "in the evening" (yes, this is ominous!). I stay chatting for a while then head to a spare room to get some sleep as, after being sat between two very chatty nocturnal Ugandans on the plane, I am absolutely shattered.
After awakening from my deep and refreshing slumber I take the opportunity - as it has stopped raining, to explore a little of my immediate surroundings. I can already see glimpses of the magnificent Lake Victoria from the huge windows of the office and am eager to get a better view. Hiking further up the hill takes me to an absolutely awe inspiring position, I scan the area and am speechless. A huge sea of vibrant greens lie in front of me, and beyond that the incredible, gigantic Lake. Crickets play their shrill melodies incessantly, hundreds of birds sing peculiar and pretty songs, and I keep checking the long grass for snakes I may accidentally stumble upon in my current state of wonder!
It soon starts to rain again though, and being a little way out of town I cannot go anywhere for the rest of the day, I finish my book and wait for Thomas to arrive so we can get back to his place and start getting settled.
2230 and Thomas gets back! We jump into the Hilux and drive to his home, it is still under construction and so has no running water or electricity yet, but he makes me feel very welcome and is proving to be a brilliant companion. Sadly there is nowhere for me to put my things, so I leave them in the suitcases and jump into bed, immediately dropping off to sleep. An uninterrupted night, except for when I manage (due to my irritatingly long legs!) to pull down not only my mosquito net, but Thomas's too! After a quick fix I climb back in and sleep til morning.
The next day brings sun and another new morning chorus from multitudes of noisy animals and insects! We head to the office - me driving the V6 Hilux (I imagine you can picture the gigantic grin on my face, bouncing down deeply rutted dirt tracks in that monster), getting onto the main roads I am amazed at the absolute death-wish of every single man and woman hurtling along on motorbikes (of course without helmets - you just get too hot), speeding past us in the most rickety 4x4s and minibuses, as well as the huge trucks and buses forcing their way through the traffic, making insane manoeuvres into the path of oncoming vehicles. Its definitely more exciting driving here than in England!
Arriving at the office there is a brief staff meeting, formally introducing myself and discussing the issues we face in the coming weeks. We won't start work properly until Thursday, when Clark Mcnutt (the boss) arrives.
After the meeting a quick lunch is followed by a trip into the centre of Kampala with Thomas to run some errands. The urge to get hit by a passing vehicle seems to draw people into the road, though their apparent lust for injuries in the noisy cacophony of teeming, speeding traffic seems to be miraculously denied in most cases! After parking the car we sort out the unlocking of my mobile phone, and head down to a printing shop, situated in the basement beneath some buildings on a main street. It turns out that printing is big business, as after chatting for a while with a man named Kim, learning about his operation of a huge Heidelburg press I go away to explore a little. Walking down the back streets I am heckled affectionately (I hope!) by many stall holders, to which any reply I make is met by huge smiles, raucous laughter and screams by the women - apparently white men walking alone is a rare thing to see as the men, although more reserved in their response once I reply to them, also stare unashamedly at me as I pass by.
Strolling back along the street I turn into what I thought was the same printing basement as before, though it turns out it is an entirely separate operation, so whilst trying to look as relaxed and comfortable as I could, hiding my embarrassment, I quickly went back upstairs, with about 50 pairs of dark brown eyes watching my every move! As I recover, laughing at my misfortune I turn into the next basement - needless to say, yet again this was not the correct one, and I had to go through the entire experience again! Luckily for me, the next set of stairs took me back down to my friend Thomas, and a feeling of relief of not having to relive that humiliation again!
A little bit of food shopping and suddenly it's 1800, we drive back to the offices and I chat to the parents and Bex for a while on Skype. I have no idea where the time goes but this blog has ended at 2200, and we still have to drive home to our cosy one room house.
All in all, my first real day here has been great, everyone is friendly, and seem eager to converse with a white man or "mzungu" as they call us! Thomas has been very welcoming, and I'm glad that we get on so well, it makes me feel a lot more comfortable here, but no doubt at some point the fact that I won't be home for a year will hit. I am not looking forward to that moment, as its always a little hard, but thus far things are all good, and I can't wait to get started on some real work!
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