The Ugandan Way

Funny how quickly you forget how it is here.

We arrive after 27 hours of travel, blurry-eyed and fuzzy-minded, in Entebbe. At baggage claim, fellow passengers haul their bags away, except for the substantial group of losers – including us - standing there watching the carousel go round and round. Having some experience of this, we pretty quickly figure it out and run to the “office” where 3 people are processing delayed baggage claims.

 

Jet lagged us: Tempted to check into the Middle East Nursing Home

Fortunately, we are towards the front of the line, but pretty stressed because our driver is waiting and might leave – it‘s 11 p.m., mosquitoes are circling like tiny hyenas, babies are crying, etc. Bill's racing to find the driver and tell him to please, please wait. I'm trying to find the damn baggage claims - I know they are here somewhere. When our turn at the counter comes, we are reminded we are in Uganda . The conversation goes like this:

Ugandan Lady Clerk: Hello. How are you?

Us: Fine, how are you?

ULC: Fine, how is home?

Us: Home is fine. Can we have our bags? Here are our tags, boarding passes, passports.

ULC: Are you together?

Us: Yes.

ULC: I will process one by one.

Us: But …

ULC to Bill, men first: What is in the luggage?

American Thought Balloon: Come on, lady. It’s just stuff for two months in Uganda. Who can remember? Clothes. Toothpaste. Stuff.

Bill: Pants, uh …

ULC: How many trousers?

Bill: Uh, maybe two. Swim goggles, uh …

Etc.

ULC: Please sign these thousand pages. … Please wait while I copy these papers.

Me: You could copy mine at the same time!

ULC: I told you, I will process one by one.

American Thought Balloon: Oh, brother. If you walk down that hall we’ll never see you again.

Wait. 

ULC (My turn): Are you married?

Me: Yes.

ULC, smiling: Then why is your name different?

Me, laughing: Because he does not own me. I don’t kneel to him!

All smiling. Best women friends.

Me: I like to be independent, don’t you think that’s a good idea?

ULC: Oh, yes. But our Ugandan men … Lots of head-shaking by both of us. Solidarity.

Bill, rolling his eyes. Crowd of people behind us melting into mosquito-laden sweat puddles.

ULC: What is in the luggage?

Me: Sandals. Skirts. Insect repellent! Debby’s whiffle balls. T-shirts that say ‘Love Condoms’. Stuff.

ULC: How many condom t-shirts …

Etc. Please wait while I copy these papers.

ATB: Argh.

ULC: Bags might come in tomorrow night, might not.

We arrive at the flat after 1 a.m. Basket of fruit on table and water in fridge. Thank you, thank you, Salama Springs. All is as we left it. We put our hats on the same shelf as before. Fall into bed.

About 6 a.m. I hear the swish, swish of the twig broom as Michael sweeps the compound. The alarm-clock hadada ibis flies overhead, clacking and squawking us awake. We roll over, look at each other and smile.

We are back.

PS - Bags arrived Monday afternoon. All's well.

Sunset from our porch. There's an ibis on the roof, hard to see.  They are the first bird in the a.m., last at night. Squawk, squawk.