Friday, November 18, 2011

It Was Only A Matter of Time

Today, I was traveling from Mbale to Kampala for my upcoming midservice medical checkup. Proud of myself for waking up at 5:00AM, I managed to catch the 7:30AM Elgon Flyer bus. I secured a seat in the back, hoping to slyly hide the vacant seat directly next to me.

For those who are unfamiliar with Ugandan transportation, it is rare, almost unheard of, to secure a seat on a bus, car taxi, or matatu without at least one person sitting next to/on top of you. For example, it is the norm to be jammed five people on a seat intended to sit two people. Because bus companies understandably want to maximize their profit on any given journey by filling up every available seat, customer satisfaction/comfort is essentially disregarded. No sweat, right?

Waiting quietly in the back for the bus to leave for Kampala, I thought I had outsmarted the bus conducter. One minute before departure, I was sadly mistaken. "You sit next to the muzunugu," I hear from the conducter, directed at a woman with a baby (not more than a few months old) in-hand. I immediately curse my luck. Sitting next to a presumably crying baby is not how I want to spend the next four hours of my day.

To my surprise, the baby was remarkably well-behaved and cryless, so much that I managed to fall asleep. All was going fine until, two hours later after passing Jinja town, I am suddenly awoken to "Bllaahhhhh." Initially confused by the sound, I wake up to my shirt and pants covered in vomit. It takes me 2-3 seconds to actually realize what just happened. With the mother profusely apologizing "I am sorry" and hundreds of eyes staring at me, wondering from where the nauseating smell and sound originated, I embarrassingly begin to clean/wash my shirt with my water. The conducter then comes over to ask if I am doing okay. Outwardly, I say, "I am fine." Inwardly, I am passing much of the blame on him.

The irony of it all? The mother and her baby proceed to get off the bus in Lugazi town (not in Kampala), not even 20 minutes after my shower of baby vomit. A prime example of bad timing at its finest.

The morals of the story? In Uganda, to expect the unexpected. To embrace everything, even the gross things, as they come because they may never come again stateside. And to perhaps sleep in and catch the 8:30AM Elgon Flyer bus to Kampala instead.

It was bound to happen. It was only a matter of time.

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