Uganda

As all the proper facebook stalkers who are reading this know, I travelled to Uganda last week to visit the Jewish community.
Overall it was an amazing trip. Coincidentally I was there the same weekend as their first ever youth convention, so I got to meet Jewish teens from all over Uganda. Even more coincidentally, three Californians were there for the convention and two of them had been on seminar with me! Crazy things happen in Africa...
The 9 hour bus ride from Kenya to Uganda was the aspect of the trip I was most nervous for, and with good reason; it was an adventure to put it lightly. The bus was scheduled to leave at 11 PM which complicated things because the station was outside of town and getting there at night is a hassle. I ended up riding to the bus station on the back of a bicycle. It was just after dusk and the highway stretched into the blackness ahead as if it led of the edge of the earth. The huge trucks and vans sped past us in a dizzying whir of wind and headlights. All of my night travelling in Kenya has given me this strange dream-like sensation, one of the strangest feelings I have ever experienced. The whole world is so dark, which only makes the unnaturally bright lights of the roadside stores glow more luminously. Everything is silent and I begin to remember I am in a desert - land that was so recently a wilderness, and it is the blunt contrast of the florescent lights that puts me in such a trance.
I waited for a few hours at the bus station, only to find when the bus finally arrived at midnight that my seat had been taken. I asked the woman to move, but when she refused I could do little more than stare helplessly at her and block up the aisle. The conductor found me an open spot at the back where every bump and rut in the road is exaggerated to a painful extent. And bumps there were in plenty. The bus driver seemed to think the bus was big enough to just speed over the shattered road, but he was sorrowfully wrong, and my rump suffered the consequences.
Although I didn't get much sleep things were generally OK until about 4:30 AM. The bus stopped, but only about half of the passengers got off so I figured it was just a routine stop. Not knowing if or when the bus would stop again I decided to risk getting off to find a bathroom. I was immediately ambushed by vendors and bicyclists, everyone shouting and pointing me in different directions. I just repeated the work "toilet" as loudly as I could in a questioning tone until one man heard me and said, "Oh, come!" I followed hesitantly as it was dark and a strange man was leading me into a deserted alleyway, but I was also afraid the bus would leave so there was little time to dawdle. Travelling alone frequently puts you in positions where you have to trust complete strangers with everything you own, including your life. That is sometimes scary in a place where so many people are constantly trying to rip you off, but it is also a good opportunity to learn about people and to realize how you judge on appearance.
The trip to bathroom turned out fine, although I have peed under more sanitary conditions. When I reentered the bus though, more people had gone and worry began to nag my senses, because as any traveller knows, when in an unfamiliar place the smartest thing to do is follow the crowd. The problem was that the crowd had dispersed into the night, but as I sat trying to formulate a plan of action a man came on the bus and made a stern announcement in Swahili, of which I understood only the word "passport". The guy next to me of course spoke not one word of English, but the remaining passengers were getting up so I took my passport and followed them off the bus. It was still chaotic outside and hard to know whom to follow, but I recognized one guy from the bus and to my relief he spoke English so I tagged along with him up to a small building where we had our passports stamped. The bus then picked us up and drove 50 ft only to drop us off again at the end of a long road. I found my new English speaking friend who informed me that we had to get our passports stamped again at the other end of the long road.
Safely back on the bus I tried to get a little sleep as our bus wasn't scheduled to arrive until 9 AM and had left an hour late. My last surprise came at 6:30 AM when the bus stopped and my friend told me we were in Mbale (my stop). Momentarily I was gripped with fear that he was trying to trick me off the bus early, but what could I do? I got off the bus with him. It did turn out to be Mbale, and after a short scare in which my phone didn't work, I got through to the Rabbi of the Jewish community and he sent someone to pick me up.
It was a journey I will not forget anytime soon and the ride back to Kenya was an adventure to match the first, but the trek was worth the stay. There were people from Israel and the from US for the convention, and everyone thought I was there with the three USYers who came from California so I got to help with the planning and tag along to all the events! "Plans" have a whole different way of taking shape in Africa (and by that I mean they usually don't take shape at all) so the convention had a rather chaotic feel, but it was OK. Things came together and discussions and sing alongs cropped up where there was extra time. There was a dance and a soccer game and best of all a day long hike to Sipi falls, these magnificently beautiful waterfalls, which we got to climb down to and get completely soaked.
The Jewish community, the Abuyadayah, originated from a group of converts in the early 1900s and was discovered in the '80s. The Rabbi was then taken to California and ordained and later returned to convert his whole community under the conservative movement. It was hard to tell what in the community had been affected by all the outside attention they have recently received, but regardless it was cool. While in some ways they seemed to be less observant than my home community, in other ways they were more directly in touch with the laws and traditions of Judaism. They sang many of the psalms in L'uganda and when we ate cow and goat the animals were slaughtered, kosherly, by members of the community right on the compound. Some of the guys my age had formed a hip-hop group and many of their songs included Hebrew and part of Jewish prayers.
I really wanted to stay longer and see what the community is like under normal conditions, but I had to get back to Kenya. There will be a next time I hope. I am now back at the children's home in Kenya and trying to figure out how best to spend my remaining six weeks. I think I will go with a Kenyan friend to her home in Nairobi for a week, after which I will return to Rabondo for a bit. In Rabondo I will be working on a project supplying reusable cloth sanitary pads to girls in the village who are currently missing school each month because they cannot afford sanitary pads. After that I hope to return to the children's home in Nakuru and volunteer for the last few weeks at a nearby preschool.
It's hard to believe how soon I will be seeing you all!!! Please keep in touch though, six weeks is not SO short.