So, we got back from Uganda on Monday evening. It was definitely an exciting trip, and it took all day to go back and forth. Two hours to the Ugandan border and an additional six hours after that. We took a beast of a bus, which felt kind of like a roller coaster ride around the countless bendy roads that scale the Rwandese mountains. This was the slower of the buses that do the Kigali-Kampala ride. There’s another one that leaves at six in the morning and returns with passengers later the same day. I’m so glad we didn’t take that one, because ours was definitely an intense experience. They showed us a couple of Nigerian films for the first half of the trip and later exposed us to the music of Celine Dion, Michael Bolton, Backstreet Boys, S-Club 7, Enrique Iglesias. You get the idea. Where were you John Michael?

At the border, we had to get off the bus, get through the Rwandese check point, walk to the Ugandan border where we purchased visas for $30 a piece. All the while, the bus was waiting for us, and because we had so many passports to get done, were the last group holding up the bus. So, we all hurried to fill our forms hoping the bus wouldn’t ditch us. Definitely a hectic experience. Anyway, we made it in time and the rest of the trip went pretty smoothly. The landscape drastically changed soon after we entered Uganda. It was pretty much Savannah the rest of the way. Really amazing scenery.

We arrived before dark, bargained with a mutato taxi to take us to the Baha’i temple land, arriving just over an hour later. Kampala is a pretty chaotic city, and is considered to be the New York of East Africa. At the temple, we were met by the care-taker, Mr. Woldu, and his family, who were so warm and welcoming, offering us tea and the dinner they had prepared for themselves (I love your parents Melle). The next morning, Sam and Steve were woken up by Mr. Woldu throwing rocks on the roof of their dorm.

Our time at the temple flew by way too quickly. It was really peaceful walking around the gardens and seeing some of the volunteers performing their particular tasks. A noticeable contrast from the crazyness of the city only a few miles away. We also hung out with another super cool group of girls from Canada. I had an interesting conversation about “flooding” with Farideh. Flooding is what happens to a guy when he’s in the middle of a conversation, and it’s an over-load of information for him that he zones out, and his thoughts wonder off. Flooding guys, flooding! :) It’s so true, right?

Anyway, our trip back ended well, despite a few minutes of nerve-wracking hell. We also had an encore of Celine Dion and all that jazz. An hour before we got to Kigali, we were delayed by an oil-tanker truck that had some how broken down in the middle of the road and was leaking gas. Sam and Steve walked over to get a closer look, and found out that there was a guy standing by the gas leak smoking a cigarette! So, we figured it will either take all night for them to move the truck, or we’ll all die from 3^rd degree burns before then. After an hour of lounging by the roadside, our bus honks for us to go back in, and the traffic begins to slowly move. The cars were driving around the oil truck, and off the side of the road. All this while, I’m thinking of the worst scenario possible. This seems to be something I’m good at. What if the truck blows up right as we’re going around it? Not a stretch of the imagination after what Sam and Steve saw. So, I said a quick prayer, like I’ve said a thousand times since I’ve been on this trip. After it was over, I looked over at Djamshid and we both smiled with relief. Ahhhhh… it’s good to be alive!