The Journey

February 15th, Entebbe, Uganda.
The FedEx Epic

(A daring story of two determined young women with very little money and a domineering, Ugandan FedEx employee)

Background knowledge: As we travel to each school/youth group they give us cultural items to take back to their sister-school/group in the USA. However, we did not expect the size of these items to be as large as they have ended up being. They are way over the weight limit for African airlines ...and we are pretty much physically incapable of carrying all of this stuff. So, we had to ship it in Entebbe, Uganda...before we left for Kampala. The scene below takes place at 5:30 pm the night our flight for Morocco takes off. We are trying to ship our package FedEX...but the FedEx office in Entebbe doesn't have any FedEx boxes ...so they have to have someone bring the box from another city in Uganda! Jess decides to wait at the FedEx office with the stuff and Lindsey goes back to the Jane Goodall Insititute office where we are staying.

Lindsey:
So I go to the Jane Goodall house with Debby Cox to hang our wet laundry and pack while Jessica stays at the Fed Ex facility and waits for the box to come. The Fed Ex staff (which consists of 2 people) says the box will come in 15 minutes but we know thats code for one hour. Once I am in the JGI house I take out the laundry from the washing machine, hang the clothes on the clothes line outside, shower, pack my things, go back downstairs to check on the laundry...still wet...go back upstairs to help pack some of Jessica's things...look at watch 6:45 pm...go downstairs to search for food but unsucessful...go outside to check on laundry..take some shirts off the clothes line and swing them around so they dry faster -but unfortunately get caught in the act of this absurd motion by a JGI staff member. Go back upstairs...look at packed bag...look at watch...WHERE IS JESS? Finally at 7 pm Debby asks if Jessica is back yet and I tell her no. So she gets in her van to search for the missing Jessica at the Fed Ex office. I go downstairs to check on the clothes again. No luck...still as wet as the last time I checked. Go back upstairs...look at clothes all packed away...wonder how much the suitcase weighs...well might as well-drag the suitcase and scale out to the living room and weigh it. Yup! Under 20 kilos. Hear car...yeah! Whoops false alarm just some older ladies. Go back downstairs to try and dry some more clothes. Wonder if you twirl around really fast while holding clothes they will dry quicker-well haven't got anything to lose! 2 minutes later-yup have something to lose...diginity. Got caught in the act again...

Jess:

I really know the inside of the FedEX office now. Know the type of wood of the desk and everything. I spent 2 hours with the FedEX man today. There was absolutely no way in the world I was going to leave all my stuff to be shipped with this sweaty FedEX man who smiles too much and too insincerely. No way was I going to trust him when he said, "Trust me. What, you don't trust me?" Of course I don't trust you sir, I wanted to say.

But, instead I just said, "I'll wait for the box."

"But..."

"I'll wait for the box!"

"But, sister..."

"I WILL wait for the box."

"OKAY, okay," he said laughing with clenched teeth in a way that said: 'you psycho, paranoid American -all I wanted to do was never send your goods and sell them on the black market (the one down the street) for a sum of money that would help to feed my children'

But to be honest, I wasn't feeling particularly charitable at that moment and there was absolutely nothing that man could have said that would have convinced me to leave him with this precious box of student artwork, stories, and carefully collected cultural items (pottery, paintings, necklaces, etc.) It would take an act of God to remove my hands from this box.

And, apparently, this is what the FedEx man suspected as well...so he brought up God. But, not only did he bring up God...he brought in Mary, Jesus, and all the prophets too.

"So, what church do you go to? Where do you worship and which God listens to you?"

"I'm not sure"

He found this really very funny..."You are NOT sure! hehe hehe haha," he cackled. "How can you not be sure?"

"I am an agnostic."

"A What?!"

"An agnostic"

"Oh, yes, yes, I know. So, you find Jesus well?"

"Well, I am not sure how to answer that."

"Ha ha...you are funny... you are funny"

"So, when is the box getting here? What time?"

"Well, the box comes when the box comes. Hehe haha. It comes from Kampala...and traffic...and cars get wrapped up in cars...and, did you say you were a Born Again?"

"But, what time did the car with the box LEAVE Kampala. I said I was an agnostic. It means that I am undecided on religion. That I do not belong to a particular faith...but that I am open to all beliefs and interested to learn about all religions. To be honest, I actually find religion itself fascinating. The whole topic is just interesting. Yep. So, that's what I am. And, what time did you say the box left Kampala?"

Silence. He thinks scratching his chin and laughing. "You are a funny sister. Funny sister. hehe haha. hehe haha. not belonging to a religion but studying religions. Now, I...I am a Born Again. I believe in God and I worship and pray and sing. The box left Kampala when the driver put the box in the car."

"That is very nice that you worship and pray and sing. I like singing. I once almost joined a Jamaican gospel church just so I could sing in the choir. Does the driver have a cell phone?"

"So, after you die...where do you go?"

"I don't know. Perhaps nowhere. Perhaps I am just put six feet under and become worm food. But, I'd rather believe your version. Or, maybe the Hindus are right and I will come back as another person. Did you say if the driver had a cell phone? Can we call him?"

"Yes, the driver has a cell phone. Hindus...hehe haha hehe haha. We have people here in Uganda who are not part of the Christian church too...they meet in groups and worship their own versions of gods. haha hehe haha hehe. But...but my question is, how do you see us?"

"What?"

"How do you see us?"

"Well...I like FedEx...at least I have been happy with the service in the past...but I would really like to get this box soon!"

"Haha. hehe. haha. hehe...funny, funny sister. I mean...How do you see my religion? Do you think we are right?"

"Oh. ...oh...well, I'm not sure if you're right. But, I think it's great you belong to a supportive community. I have always liked that about religion -community. It is really quite nice I would imagine. And, I hope you are right - I hope there is a heaven....wouldn't that be nice?"

"Hehe. haha. hehe. haha. I see. It will be nice. Yes. I feel sorry for you."

"Why? Why, because I do not have a specific religion?"

"No, because you are having to wait for your box."

"haha! I feel sorry for me too."

"I really do feel very sorry for you."

"Sorry as in ...maybe we should give a discount, sorry. I have been waiting an awful long time."

"Haha. hehe. haha. hehe. You ARE really very funny. Funny sister. I will buy you a cake and a Fanta."

"Okay!!!"

He returned with the cake and Fanta a few moments later. "So... godless sister... How will you get married?"

"Not in a church. Can we call the driver to see if he has left Kampala?"

******

Feb. 16th The plane ride from Entebbe (Uganda) to Dubai to Casablanca (Morocco) was magnificent!

Sixteen hours in Emirates Airlines luxury...all I did was sleep! It was as though a gentle hand had scooped us up out of the busy, insect infested, motocycle whirling, people yelling, men staring at you, careful of your wallet -streets of Kampala, Uganda and transported us to the world of packaged foods, cafes, fast service, flourscent lights, flashy marketing, CNN/BBC, and paved roads. How is it possible to switch landscapes so quickly?

It was culture shock at the Dubai airport. I went to go get Lindsey and I some food. There was a Starbucks-like cafe in the center of the busy airport. I went to the counter to order and it was as if my brain froze.

"May I help you ma'm?" "umm...umm...Yes. I would like...a ...a mocha." "Mocha iced. Will that be all?" "I don't know. I am trying to think. umm...umm...Oh! ooh! a carrot juice!" "instead of the mocha ma'm?" "yes. I mean... no! In addition to...yes in addition to." "For here or to go?" "What?" "F-o-r h-e-r-e OR to go" "Oh! For here. ...I'm sorry I mean, to go! Yes, to go! to take away!" "Okay ma'm"

I walked around to different food kiosks...gathering goods quickly...as if they might disappear if I didn't jump at the opportunity. I arrived back at the gate with a dazed sense of awe. "What happened?" Lindsey asked. All I could do was half smile and clutch my carrot juice.

We are in Morocco now...and it is absolutely wonderful! But, before we tell you about Morocco we wanted to catch up on our journal entries since we were without internet access for over a week while in Uganda. So below are excerpts from Jessica's journal that she kept while in Uganda. Tomorrow we will update you on Morocco!!

Journal excerpts...

Uganda.

It was so dramatic. I hope I have the words to paint it for you accurately. Margaret (the youth group coordinator) and her friend Jackson picked us up from Fort Portal. We were driving in Jackson's large car. His tape of Stevie Nicks was playing - the song "Landslide". We were driving through this huge tea plantation. Rows of green leaves everywhere you look. Hills in the background with hovering mist. A patchwork of foliage. Just rich green everywhere - so much green, it made your eyes feel rejuvenated just by looking. The beauty of it all made you collapse back and smile. Margaret and Jackson were chatting in accented English in the front seats. Margaret kept looking back at us with this big, elegant smile. The car whizzed forward. "Oh, I've been afraid of changing 'cause I've built my life around you," the song played. The colors of the tea leaves blurred as we flew past making a flowing river of green outside the car window. "But, time makes you bolder. Children get older." Lindsey and I looked at each other with huge smiles. We couldn't help it. Uganda...wow. This is what travel is supposed to be like. "I'm getting older too."

* * *

It is 9:52pm in Uganda. We are staying at the Makerere Biological Research Station in Kiko Parish area (right outside of Fort Portal town). I am writing inside the snug security of a large mosquito net. I have the flash light propped up on top of my journal to write...the light attracts all the smallish insects (the ones that can fit through the netting). So, they are currently hovering around this paper...landing, buzzing, flying off to land down a few seconds later. I have waxy DEET insect-repellent on my legs and arms. I can hear baboons beating on the kitchen door to our house. They have a habit of breaking in and eating the researchers food. But, tonight our kitchen door is locked and shut.

* * *

Margaret and I walked to her friend Jackson's house to wait for civets. It was a little after 8pm. We walked down the path... through the woods and lower research camp. I looked up at the night sky- so incredibly clear- I could see almost every star it seemed. We got to the porch of her friend's house and sat down in dark. Margaret switched on my flashlight. We waited. "Wait," she said smiling. A few moments later we heard rustling. "I like this activity," she said giggling in whispers. Suddenly, I started to see a form emerge from the blackness of the jungle. Slowly it moved...creeping steps. A little black face appeared and then a bulky body. It was like a cross between a ferret, skunk, raccoon, and cat. It crunched on some grass loudly and then crept along past our vision. "There. A civet," said Margaret smiling. So, we walked back in the darkness of the night. Passing by little lighted research cabins where scientists and environmentalists sat outside by the porch light sipping wine, crunching food (much like the civet I suppose), and laughing - all their sounds muffled by the decimal level of the forest.

* * *

For anyone who would like to know...Mango flies are these terrifyingly small insects that lay eggs on your clothing. The eggs get inside you- hatch and grow- making you sick. Therefore we are keeping all of our clothing inside our suitcases at all times (except when we are wearing them). But, last night I left my towel outside by accident...and now I can't help but look at it as though it is my enemy. Mango fly eggs could just be sitting there...simmering...waiting for unsuspecting skin. Ready to dig in and make me ill. "As long as you are careful," said Margaret. "you should have no problems." hmmm...maybe if I look real closely I can tell if there are eggs. Be back in a moment. ...No can't tell. Or, maybe I can and there just aren't eggs. hmmm. Don't have much of anything I could use in place of a towel...that package of tissues is just really too small. Maybe it could work ...hold on ...going to examine the package. ...no really is way too small, tissues are quite thin too. Don't have much extra clothing here that I could use as a towel...we left most of our luggage in Kampala.

Perhaps I could just get dressed and let my clothing absorb the water from the shower and then go outside and dry in the sun...as if I were the clothing line! Yes, excellent idea! That is what I will do!

After shower. Feeling quite wet now. Luckily only got through half of procedure before Lindsey woke up and offered me her towel. Really good she did that or I would be soaking right now.

Stupid mango flies. Probably don't even like towels and prefer clothing instead. Tricky, deceiving mango flies. I wish I knew what one looked like.

* * *

On Friday we met with the first youth group. It was a bit of a drive away in a small village with a large stone church. The whole village rested on a hill... so on either side of you were sloping valleys of trees and the resting, morning mist of high elevations. We walked through town and as we walked we gathered children -as if we were magnets -they just appeared in a line behind us. Very much the pied piper effect. The children in the youth group showed us all of their projects. It was very impressive. Last year they grew several hundred trees to give out for free to the community. They were also very proud to show us the goat they had won in a recent competition! The goat looked proud as well. The rest of the day was spent at one of the families' homes (a mud structure with dirt floors). The children had prepared tons of songs, dances, speeches, and poems for us! It was overwhelming! It is hard for me to portray in words how I honored I felt to be in the presence of these talented children. I had goosebumps just listening to their singing.

* * *

On Saturday we met with the smaller youth group in Kyanyawara. They were so nice. They wrote letters to their sister-school in Tennessee and worked on their declaration and documentary. They loved listening to the Elvis music we had brought with us as cultural exchange from their sister-school. We taught them how to dance to the Elvis music! It was so much fun! Even as we were leaving they were practicing the dance moves we had taught them.

* * *

The group we met with on Sunday was impressive as well. We felt so honored as we entered their brick school building which they had decorated for us with strings and strings of delicately woven fresh flowers. We spent part of the day working with the students on the United Nations Millennium Development Goals and the part of the day listening to the songs the children had prepared for us.

* * *

Monday morning we took the bus back to Kampala. It was an absurd scene. Picture this: It is Valentines Day (the beginning of the "International Week of Flirtation" as it is called here) so everyone is dressed up in black and red. As we get out of our taxi at the bus station awful music is blasting -loud, disco-like love songs. Men on motorcycles are whizzing around everywhere (motorcycles are a common form of transportation here...like a taxi you pay to ride on one). It is still dark. Suddenly, someone grabs our bag and carries it toward the Kalida bus. We follow our bag intently and are therefore rushed onto the bus. The bus is crowded with bustling, shifting people...many dressed in different forms of black and red. There is a man wearing a jester cap and selling peanuts...which just adds to the absurdity of the scene. Finally the bus takes off -speeding down the dirt road. It is just starting to get light. Orange colored sky. Our bus decides to race another bus. Everything is happening so fast! We barely have time to think! The other bus misjudges the distance between the two vehicles and collides with a "bang" into ours! People are yelling angrily in languages we can't understand. Hands are waving around. Our bus rocks back and forth. I feel vulnerable and trapped. We are teetering. "Please don't tip. Pease don't tip bus!" We don't tip. Lindsey and I let out a sigh of relief. And, then the bus races on into the direction of the morning sun. 4 more hours until we reach Kampala.