Today started out on schedule with Emmanuel arriving exactly on time. We headed down to the café after a few minutes chat to have breakfast and actually had a very fine one that was cheap and good. We did our planning for the entire day while there and after we had eaten we took a long trek up the street to find a place to exchange some dollars into the local currency. We were a little early for the exchange place, and continued up the street to an Internet Café Emmanuel knew about somehow. I checked out a computer that didn’t work, and was soon moved to another. Was that familiar, I thought? The second computer worked and I was soon looking up my mail system and writing a letter to Janet Sherwood. When I finished it, I couldn’t send it for some strange reason, so I called the owner over to assist me. In a half hour we had the problem corrected and we were looking to leave this place and get my money changed. In a few more minutes we were back at the exchange place and the money issue was taken care of. Two of our planned tasks were complete.
Our next task was to get my Kampala to Juba air ticket paid for. We got a taxi and after a blustering ride through the city streets, we were sitting near the Air Uganda office. Inside, they quickly found my reservation and told me the price I had been quoted was wrong, and that the new price was $50 more than before. Well, I thought, I did make that reservation through an Internet broker, so I accepted that this was really the price and gave the man my credit card. A large sign on the wall indicated that they took all sorts of credit cards for payment, so I believed I was okay.
In a few minutes, the agent returned from the other room where he had taken my card and announced that their machine was broken and could not be used today. I asked him what I should do, and he suggested that we go to the bank next door, use the card to draw the necessary cash in U. S. dollars and he would hold my reservation. We walked a bit up the street to Barclay’s Bank where I believed this process could be done without a problem. The line going to the Tellers (two of them) put me about 20th in turn. I stood in that line for about 20 minutes before taking my place before the Teller. I told him my story, and he pushed my card back through the window telling me they didn’t do that sort of thing, and I should go to Standard Charter Bank which could take care of me.
We found our cab driver who had waited for us, and Emmanuel gave the him the name of the place. He said he knew where it was and we headed out. Once again we were dodging mini-busses and motor bikes and soon we were stopping in front of another Barclay’s Bank. “No, No,” Emmanuel said, “It’s Standard Charter Bank, not Barclay’s.” So off we went again for another 15 minutes and across town again and soon were sitting in front of the bank where we were supposed to go. Inside I waited behind a smaller line for a few minutes before I got to the Teller. Same story. She suggested I go to the ATM, get the money in local currency, and then take that to the Foreign Exchange booth in the bank and get the U.S. Dollars I needed. Okay, I thought, I can get only $300 in one draw and needed $460 for the ticket, but I would try it anyway. To my surprise, when I put in the amount equivalent to $460, it spit out 900,000 Uganda Shillings as I had asked it to do. Maybe my Honduran good luck necklace that my daughter gave me before I left for Africa had kicked in and was working. At the Foreign Exchange booth I told them my story giving them the 900,000 Shillings, and fifteen minutes later while they did their paper work and had me fill in forms, I had the $460 in new American dollars and we were looking for our cabbie. Task three was almost complete and we headed for Uganda Airlines again. One more trip across town and after a long wait in line at the agency, I was finally getting my ticket—task 3 was complete for the day, but it was now almost noon. I wondered if this was going to be like Mozambique that when noon came along, everything stopped for two or three hours while people went home for lunch. I was told not to worry. They didn’t do that in Uganda. Whew!
On the way to the South Sudan Embassy where I needed to get a Visa for travel to South Sudan, Emmanuel suddenly shouted for the driver to stop the car, which he didn’t do as we passed by two people along the sidewalk, one of which was the guy we were supposed to meet at the Embassy whom Emmanuel had called earlier saying we were on our way. He was on his way to lunch, figuring we weren’t coming as our delays had made our meeting time hours off and Emmanuel had not called back with the fellow to rearrange our visit time. Our contact agreed to go back to the Embassy, so we continued while he walked down the road to the Embassy gate.
I presented my papers to Emmanuel and the fellow who had come back to assist us, and the process got underway. I was told to wait outside, as there was a meeting underway inside with all the Ministers from all the South Sudan agencies crammed inside the small reception room. After about 20 minutes of waiting paperwork was presented to me and I was told fill it out and to wait again. I did, sitting in a chair just outside the reception room. In about 15 minutes our man came out with Emmanuel with a computer generated piece of paper indicating that $50 was needed for the Visa I was after. Furthermore it gave a Bank address and account number where the money had to be deposited before we could get my Visa. Emmanuel took my $50 and headed out to the Bank, leaving me sitting outside again until the meeting of Ministers was over.
Finally I was invited inside where I thought the room would be air conditioned. I was by that time pretty warm from sitting outside in the early afternoon while the temperature continued to rise. Inside, however, it was not air conditioned, and was as stifling in there as it was outside. I endured it for another half hour before Emmanuel arrived with the receipt needed to get my Visa. From there it was only 15 more minutes waiting before the lady behind the Reception Desk called us over for the delivery of my precious Visa. Our contact came with us and as we walked out, he advised me to call him when I got to Juba to make sure that I was getting the reception I deserved from the Government officials there in the Capital of South Sudan. I had spent a few minutes along with this guy, Clement Deng Akech, while he explained that he was from the Akup Village Area and was a cousin of August, out President and founder of the organization. Our conversation was very informative and helpful as he addressed a few of the issues facing the community and logistics I should expect to encounter when I arrive in Wau in a few days. We had accomplished task four but now it was well passed noon and time was running out for Emmanuel.
Emmanuel had mentioned earlier in the day that he had to get over to his school by 1:00 P.M. to take a test that was one of his Finals for the current term he was in at the University. He had received several calls already by then that he should be there, but kept putting it off, finally rescheduling for 5:00 P.M. today. After that we loaded up and headed back to the Hotel where we were to meet one of the Machara sponsored students who was on his way to meet us. At the hotel restaurant, we had a Coke while we waited for another hour before the boy arrived. All that time we had anticipated we would all have lunch together, but when the boy arrived, he wasn’t hungry so Emmanuel went ahead and ordered.
I had watched some men at the next table (it turned out they were South Sudanese) eating a traditional African dish I had noticed was on the menu and asked Emmanuel about. It looked good from where I was sitting, so with my adventurous taste for new dishes when it came time to order, I asked for that dish. It would consist of stiff cooked sorghum seeds (it looked like over-cooked instant wheat meal), boiled raw banana, a piece of boiled sweet potato, some tomato flavored sauce that would have meet in it, some rice and kidney beans. Much to my surprise, everything on that dish was delicious. I couldn’t get over how mashed raw bananas tasted a lot like mashed potatoes. And the chunk of sweet potato was also very good. I dashed the entire meal with some hot chili sauce that Emmanuel recommends and ate away.
Lunch over with our long-awaited boy in hand, we headed out for the school where he and the other two sponsored boys from the Apuk Padoc village were attending classes. The place, the St. Barnabus Christian Primary School, was quite a way out of town, but in a very nice district of the city my what I could observe. Inside the school, it was quite different. The classrooms were old and much in need of repair and paint. In addition as I walked by them, inside they were dark having only one window in each classroom where light could come in. I remembered my comments in Ethiopia how I was convinced there that Africans in general could see in the dark and didn’t need light bulbs. That sure seemed to be true here. One classroom that I looked into on the way to the Principal’s office didn’t even have an unlit bulb in the room. The children, however, seemed clean in nice uniforms, they were pleasant and sang to me when I entered one classroom.
Our meeting with the Head Master (Principal) was short, but my first impression was that he was a pretty capable person who was very enthusiastic about his role. He told us a little about the school, saying it was badly in need of funds, as it was supported mostly by the Catholic Chruch and their funds had dropped off significantly in the last few years. He explained that he was new and only two months on the job, that there were 300 children under his care and that there was a larger number of girls than boys. We met the other two boys and after a while I was interviewing them on video tape, and soon we were over, having finished five tasks today with still time to get Emmanuel to his rescheduled test at the university.
It was what I would call a “typical” day for Africa. I have years back leaned that everything takes an inordinate amount of time in any developing country, and Uganda is no exception. But with patience things can get done if one sticks with it and understands that people in these countries are simply taking the steps that Americans took over a hundred years ago, and that if the political situation or religious zealots do not get in the way and stop all progress in the name of God, these countries will rise reasonably out of poverty and become world leaders on their own terms.
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