...the end of the story...

My mom told me that my readers would want to hear the rest of the story.

Well, it goes downhill from here.

After managing to cross the street you find a nice, but tightly packed internet cafe.
The cute attendant gives you the time you ask for and you go and plug into the rest of the world
After an hour you return to the fact you are in Africa, pay and once again cross the street.
You enter DTB ... again.
After waiting 30 minutes in line, during which time you are harassed by a woman who (unkindly) sneers "muzungu" at you, a man who tried to cut in front of everyone, and the man behind you who thinks you need to stand closer to the people in front of you., you finally reach the hasseled and inefficiant attendant.
He looks at you and says "Will you please just come back tomorrow"
You refuse, explaining you have to travel the next day.
You BEG him to refresh the system to see if you have been added.
Claiming you haven't been, he refreshes.
And there you are!
You say That is me!
He says fine and says to pay.

Note: Due to the fact you are a proactive person, who tries to plan ahead, you had prepared 100 USD for payment.  This is because the visa fee is said, on all documents, to be 100 USD. 

You pass the crisp 100 USD to the man.
He looks at you and says "It has to be Ugandan Shillings"
At this point you lose it with the man.
You explain that the payment is equal to the Ugsh.  And that you are sure he can get the money exchanged.
He flatly refuses and tells you there is a forex at the end of the building.

You are so annoyed at this point you grab your things and run out the door.
You stop outside and start to cry, which gets the shocked attention of the security guards.
Finally you get into the 3rd door and wait in line for a long while
Still a bit shaken, you pass the now wrinkled and bent 100 dollar bill to the teller who gives you the wad of UgSh.
You force yourself back through the first door and to the window again.
You defeatedly give the man your money.  He has the nerve not to give you your change. 
You demand it.
He rolls his eyes 

You are done.  No therapy can restore this soul.


Thankfully I did go to my meeting with my new friend/contact Esther.   We had a lovely time together and she offered me a GREAT place to live in Kampala.

I will be moving to Kampala at the end of the month for around 6 weeks.  More on this later.

I am sick everytime I come home to Mbarara.

A day in the life of Africa

So, in order to demonstrate the "joys" that a day in Africa can bring, I have decided to detail the events of my day today.  I think it's a pretty great example.


Wake up and go through the morning routine where you are staying (this time:  Missionaries of Africa Lordel House)... INCLUDING a HOT shower!!!!! :D
Teach from 9-12, you are pleased but were short on time.
Have mass and lunch
Take a 2nd hot shower, (just because you can) and get everything together to go out.

So far a very enjoyable day with nice people, safely tucked in a beautiful compound.

Leave the compound after making a few arrangements.
Stand by the side of the road, finally after 3 attempts find a boda man who knows the Internal Affairs Office
He is very nice and charges you a decent rate, you have a nice chat on the ride.
He tells you that he "loves you so much" because you tell good stories.
Arrive, go through security.
Go to the cashier window, which was where you stopped last time and know you need to start again.

The same, very large woman with small glasses is sitting behind the computer.
You explain that you came on Monday and that because the system was down you were not able to proceed with the visa process, specifically paying for the visa to start the process.
She says to come back in a few days because the system has been down since Friday, and they are starting from inquires from that time.
You smile and kindly explain that you live in Mbarara and will be going back to Mbarara the next morning.  You also stress your desire to be LEGAL in the country (which you currently are not because your passport was stolen.)
You ask her how you can  arrange it so that this issue can be clarified.
She makes a face.
And tells you to give her your passport
So you do.

She looks for your form for about 15 minutes, passing it twice before realizing it is yours.
Finally she finds it, but says it's not you because in your passport your name is spelled with an "M" and on the forms it is with an "N"
You spend the next 5 minutes tying to get to to turn to the LAST (back) page for your passport for explanation, but she thinks the first page which she is on is the back.  Finally you reach through the bars, take the passport and physically show her what you meant.
Then she says "Oh, but it's with an M in the system".  5 more minutes changing your name in the system.
Then she tells you to go away and wait.
So you do, maybe with a half smile.
Then she calls your middle name, thankfully you hear it.  People don't know how American names work here.
You go back to the window. And wait for a while.
Then she gives you the bank payment form you need.  You ask a few questions of clarification, which are answered in a very unhelpful manner.  She tells you not to bring it back today, but tomorrow morning.
You leave the window a bit frustrated and slightly confused.  But doing your best to keep your composure. 
(... remember you had 2 hot showers today, that will make anyone happy)
You go an find another boda man. 
You decided to go to Standard Charter bank because you are meeting a friend there later, and you can just hang out in the area until your meeting after paying.
You go, pay the boda, and enter.
It's a very nice bank.  You feel comfortable and relaxed.

Once you reach the window after a short wait you ask if you can pay for your visa.
The teller says yes.
So you are about to pay when she says you have to pay with a check.
You almost laugh, and make sure to clarify, a check?
She asks a co worker, yes she says a check.
Having NO checks in Africa, and not sure that you ever could, you leave slightly confused and a bit flustered.
You don't know exactly where you are in Kampala, so you are a bit confused.
You step out into the bright afternoon sunlight.
At least it is an exceptionally beautiful day. (it could be raining)
 Thank you God.

You ask a security guard on the sidewalk to direct you to another bank.
He gives "ugandan style" directions, which are basically unhelpful.
You make a mental note of where you are, so that you can find the place again when you need to return later.
Then you start to walk down towards the congested road below.
On the way, you find a bank!  What luck!
You go in and ask a professional looking woman at the desk if they accept payment for visas.
She says No
You leave, feeling a bit deflated, stuffing your belongings back in your shoulder bag.
You keep walking down the street. 
You turn to corner to walk down towards the main area of town, one of the directions you were given being helpful.
Then you see Barclays!
Oh joy, a bank you know that will do exactly what you want.
But you have to cross the road.
You eye the Ugandans surrounding you and cross tailing their shoulder, but still having to run a bit to avoid becoming road kill.
You dance across the street and are waved into barclays without a security check
You mentally note that if terrorists ever wanted to bomb in Africa they should use white women because they are never properly checked at security.  Scary.
You wait in line for about 10 minutes.  You think about how you don't like lines, but that they nicely keep order.
It is another nice bank, banking would be a good job here.
You reach the window and the well dressed woman tells you that you can pay for the Visa there.
Happiness.
Then...shattered.

She shows you that on the sheet there is only one place where you can make the visa payment.  And that is DTB, which is across the street and down a bit.
You get a bit annoyed.  She shows you that "You put it here."
You explain that you filled nothing in on the sheet and that you don't know Kampala so well.
You really try to understand her unclear directions.
You leave, feeling overwhelmed and a bit annoyed, stuffing your belongings back into your bag.
You ask the security guards who didn't check you where DTB is, they point to a VERY large sign on the side of a building which advertises for DTB.  Good, at least you know where it is.
But it's across the street.
In order to get there you have to cross 3 busy streets.
First one, you get in the middle of a group of crossing Ugandans
As you go to try to cross the 2nd, you notice that the traffic has stopped at the light.
You can go.
But as you try to cross, 10 bodas drive up the side of the parked traffic and nearly run you over.
By the time they have cleared, the traffic has started moving.
You wait.
Finally you find a way to cross the 2nd street.
When crossing the third you watch the oncoming traffic to cross well
But one boda man decides that he wants to slow down, thinking he might hit you.
In this he almost causes a serious accident because the boda man behind him is going very fast.
You RUN the rest of the way across the street.
You see your favorite book shop and long to go in and buy a book.
retail therapy.
Finally you enter DTB.
You walk in and you can't breath.
The place is FULL of people.
But you carefully read all of the signs and find that there is a special window for paying for immigration.
You speak with a nicely dressed, well composed gentleman who confirms you can use that window.
Thank God for nice people.
You reach the window ready to pay.
You give the man the form and take out you (large) amount of money
He tells you that you are not in the system yet.
You glare at him.
You tell him you were just there an hour ago.
He tells you to wait a half an hour.
You get very annoyed.  He says he can't processes it until you are in the system.
Feeling totally defeated you drag yourself away from the window, repacking all your documents.
As you leave you consider the fact that you need every kind of therapy... retail and calorie especially.
You decide that blogging about the experience would be worth your time.
You look around for an internet cafe and find one...

across the street.

The Testing of the Call

I don't really know how to post this news... it's been a testing week! 

Friday and Sunday produced their own type of trials and challenges, including a broken down bus.  

However the hardest was that I had many of my belongings stolen from me on Sunday night. 

Computer, internet, ipod, money for my visa and the money I had from teaching/for traveling, raincoat, plugs and cables of different forms, back pack, etc.  It was stolen through the window of where I was sleeping. Thankfully my talk notes, debit card, books and bible survived!  They were dumped.  My passport was taken, but then later recovered somewhere far from where the things were stolen.  I lost a lot, especially a lot of work related materials.  It's tough but I will just work extra hard to try to recreate them!

So it's been a bit of a challenging time.  I am grateful for a lot of small things right now... especially how well the course I gave here in Masaka this past week went.  It was excellent.  And for the generosity of friends who let me use their computers!

There is a lot of stress, but I am actually really at peace.  I know that I will be taken care of, and that the next step from here will be made clear.  I am glad that I have peace, or I'd be a mess.  God is faithful to me.

Home bound

I stayed at home in Mbarara for a good chunk of February. 

I arrived home on Feb 8th and left again on March 2nd.  It was a good amount of time to be here and try to get some things established.

The first item of business was to set up a craft group.  We met on Thursday (twice), but it's stopped for the moment because of 2 large programs going on here now which are making everyone busy.  We managed to make a lot of great crafts, and have a good time too.  We sent 36 rosaries with Father Emmanuel to Italy.  20 of them were in Kitange bags, which I made (and taught someone to make) on a foot peddle sowing machine!  Once you get the hang of it it's not too hard.  It was a fun learning experience.

I had a frustrating meeting with someone at one point during the month.  Communication can be incredibly hard sometimes.  I don't always know why. 

I also did a good bit of one on one meetings with people about their personal vision and mission statements.  There was a session of personal scheduling that I ran as well.

I was sick for a few days, so that was a bit of a bummer.  I also did a lot of prep work for the upcoming courses that I (gave and) am giving.

It was good to be around the place for a while, though at points I felt shut up in my room.  There was a bit of stress that happened the weekend before I left, which made me go take a day at a nice local hotel, just to get away for a bit.  It was the first time I had really treated myself "out" in probably 7 months.  I needed it. 

It was good to try to get some things in place.  But sometimes it's hard because things often don't take off or fall apart after a lot of work.  But TIA.  This is Africa.