The mooing cows are a good compliment to the roaring cheers heard in the background. There is a football (soccer) game happening somewhere in the distance. The bougainvillea flowers are blowing, as are the mangoes, avocadoes, hibiscus, bamboo, pineapple, and many others that I don’t know.
I’m sitting on the front porch at Pernille’s house. She works for MS, the Danish aid organization. She is the first person who shed light on Arua – for me – after I spotted her photos on Flickr last month. Generosity is the first word I can put forth. From her first email I new I found a good lady; she has since let me stay at her place while I make my own accommodations in Arua and while she is away on holiday in Tanzania.
We’ve met face-to-face all of three minutes.
My only justification is that, for the most part, white people don’t come to Africa to steal from each other.
The wind is chilling as I am all-alone, really for the first time, since arriving in Africa. I have felt like crying a few times today, for no real reason, except that I’m finally here in Arua, in Northern Uganda, and I feel so alone. This was my choice, but now it feels real. Other ex-pats told me I would like it here, and that there is a large ex-pat community. I’ve not felt that sentiment yet, but I’m trying to stay positive, or at least wear a smile in front of my feelings.
The flight here was chilly and interesting... I left the comforts of the Fairway hotel at the crack of dawn (after staying up all night re-packing my bags to accommodate the 15 kg weight limit on Eagle Air).
The small plane was only moderately delayed, and with all 18 passengers abroad the pilot started things up, making our seatbelt announcement with no need of a microphone
I had been told that the small planes often have to circle in the air before landing because of animals on the runway – this is a lie! Arua from above is a much bigger town than I was anticipating.
Arua town from the air:
Touch down!
The quickest baggage claim I’ve ever pressed through:
Lunch with neighbors and a quick stop at the office before a “see you Monday” was offered and I was left to fend for myself.
I have a habit of touting my self-sufficiency but sometimes even I am forced to reconcile my limited capacity to be in control of all aspects. I am completely at the mercy of others help and guidance now. Kampala is so easy – a foot out the door and a boda driver is waiting to take you away across the city; wherever you need to go, to do, do buy there is a discernable path. In Arua people don’t use street names, let alone maps, and I know that on foot I am thirty minutes from the town center, where the open-air markets sell the limited selection of available produce. With no bank account, internet connection, or real friends, I am feeling a little helpless.
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