Days Going By

My alarm rang early. This morning, there was a volunteer meeting for medical staff helping with the Watoto Christmas Cantata in Kampala. The Cantata is a Seasonal performance, put on each year by Watoto Central Church, and is for the city of Kampala. Oodles of time, effort and practice go into the night, in order to bring the gospel of Jesus Christ to the population. The church had wanted a group of people to be on site for any injuries that occurred with the performers, or audience. Usually they have some sprained ankles, sometimes severe headaches or other minor incidences– last year a woman went into labor. I had offered my help a week previous, so I was heading into the city with Dr. Job to participate in the meeting. Perhaps we would go through a set-up, expectations, or protocols. Sarah, needing to run some errands, was coming with us.

The sun was just rising in the sky, when the three of us hopped on bodabodas and rode down the hill to the main road. These motorbike rides have probably become a favorite part of being in Uganda. The drivers are extremely good at navigating the right areas of the path, and sailing them quickly down steep roads. While bouncing along the back of the bike at side-saddle, you catch glimpses over the valley, wave to the passer-byers and feel the breeze of the truly, great outdoors. For the cost, I would catch rides on them for fun. If I were here any longer, I would consider an investment.

From the main road, we caught a public matato into the city of Kampala. The drive is about an hour long, wherein you experience a loss of personal space, and increase in body temperature and a co-adaptation of smell. We were happy to arrive at Central Church.

Following devotions, given by Gary Skinner and his wife (founders of Watoto), I was introduced to the other medical volunteers who would be at the performance evenings.

“Write your name here, please!” A leader asked, in entering the room.

We jotted down our names on a sheet of paper, holding them up for the camera to see.

Click. Click.

I suppose, they wanted our pictures for reference as to who would be present. I waited for the next instructions, feeling slightly tired after the early wake-up, and the hour journey.

“Thank you for coming!” The camera man left.

Job smiled. Always happy. Picked up his bag.

“Ready to go?!”

That was it.

Since we were already in the city for the very important meeting, Job thought he would stop in and check on a patient of his, at the “Case Hospital”. It was Geoffrey - a boy we had treated for Sickle Cell disease less than two weeks ago. Tests had shown his hip had become necrotic from the lack of blood supply to the area, and he was operated on to receive a prosthesis. The environment at “The Case” was fairly collected, organized and clean – a relief from what I had seen of “Mulago”. We were happy to see him doing well, and he should be home by the end of the week.

More than once, I have spotted Ugandans carrying umbrellas in the hot sun. It seems like a reasonable way to remain cool in the rays of heat. As we were headed back to the church on foot, to catch a taxi, it began to rain. Job quickly ducked under a tin-roofed shelter, with twenty other Ugandans, just as the water began to pound down. Suddenly, there were no umbrellas. Everybody waited in shelter until the rain died down. We were about 400 feet from the church building, and I couldn't see a single Ugandan walking. Those who had umbrellas were probably under shelters as well. I guess umbrellas are really for the sun.

“Um, how do you think the rain will last?” I knew Sarah was finished her errands, and waiting at the church.

“Ohh, maybe 30 minutes?” He smiled and glanced down at his watch.

No hurry, no problem and no worries. We would wait patiently until we could walk and not be wet, as there was seemed little point in running and being weary.

Back at Suubi that evening, our Bible study group met on the hill behind Maurice and Jeans, as they have returned to Scotland for holidays. Kelly baked a cake for Jess's birthday, and a watermelon was lugged along. It wasn't long after we finished discussing the 10 commandments, that we were slicing watermelon through the air with knives and making the most of the rinds in war. It carried part-way back to the pond near Suubi church, where Jess was caught a little too close to the water's edge, and the Ugandans, Daniel and Kevin, made the most of it.

“Happy bath-day!”

She was pushed into the middle of the pond, where the fish delightfully found her toes. I keep forgetting about this tradition.

Jess soaking, and the rest of us enjoying Ugandan life, we headed back down the hill, some stopping to cut through the bush and see what animals appeared in one's path at night. We made it back to the apartment without too many infirmities.

Sorry, Jess...

“Martha!” That is one of my names. The other one is “Mary”. They either hear the first part and stop listening before life gets too complicated. Or some faithful ones hear me out until the end, and try to put the “Mara-natha” together in a reasonable fashion – that's “Martha”.

“Hey, Kyra!”

“When are you done work tomorrow?”

That all depended. But we will get together if I am done work early. Sometimes we read. Sometimes we walk. Sometimes we scout out monkeys. It was a pretty good life in Suubi.

We found a baby Mango!

I headed back inside, aware that the party was not over inside. Lara and Naomi had trekked up from the city to surprise Jess for the evening. Pasta, tea, cake and Uganda stories. The latter are what kept us going further into the evening. It is hard to believe that in less than two weeks, most of us will have left for good – every current moment weaving itself into a story, and becoming a part of the past. Thirteen days left, and a lot of best day moments to happen.