Last
weekend, I finally fulfilled a long ago made promise to visit my friend,
Annelise, in Gulu. So early Friday morning, I set out on what turned out to be
a 9 and a half hour long journey north. First was the typical 2 hour taxi ride
to Kampala where I transferred to a large bus that would take me the final
stretch. If you read my last blog post, you’ll be happy to know that I overcame
my stubbornness and took a boda straight from the taxi to the bus park and couldn't have been happier about it given it was extra crazy in downtown Kampala
that day. The next 6 ½ hours were spent nice and cozy between two men and our
luggage in the back row of the bus. I realize
I’m probably most certainly being
overly sentimental but I always feel a sort of unspoken camaraderie with people
I share a long journey with; be it plane, train or automobile. At one point we
made a brief stop and my neighbor on the left got out to grab something from a
vendor. Before he had a chance to board, the bus started leaving. The man on
his other side started shouting that we were missing a passenger and we were
notified that he was currently sprinting towards the bus. Once he made his way
back to us, relieved and out of breath, he was welcomed back with laughter and
smiles so maybe I’m not such a sap after all.
I
find that long journeys like that go by quickly and I’m often content with my
music, my thoughts, a book and the passing scenery. My neighbor on my right
took care to point out any interesting sights like Karuma Falls and baboons
along the roadside and answered as best he could any questions I had about the
landscape.
Once
I arrived in Gulu, I called Annelise and she met me at the taxi park where we
hopped on a boda and went straight to her house to settle in. That first night,
we stayed at home and watched a movie with her roommates and made plans for the
following day.
Saturday couldn't have been more perfect. We slept in, made French toast and continued
our conversations, catching up on the months since we’d seen each other. Then,
in good time, we called one of Annelise’s known boda drivers and organized a
trip out to Fort Patiko; an historic spot 32km (a 45 minute boda ride) north
towards south Sudan. Its significance dates back to the mid 1800’s and involves
the British and the Arab controlled slave trade. We first stopped at the sight
of some small ruins; stone structures that were used for such purposes as
storage and administration. Our boda driver, Jack, had never visited this sight
before so it wasn’t without struggle (and without the kind guidance of a handful
of villagers along the way) that we made our way along rough trails toward the
base of a huge monolith that served as a look-out point for the Arab slave
traders and was the location of the death of many slaves who were deemed unfit.
Jack’s poor boda took a bit of a beating and there were many portions that
Annelise and I dismounted and footed while he navigated the sometimes narrow,
steep and rocky paths.
Eventually, we reached a point where it became necessary
to abandon the boda altogether and proceeded to hike up a bare 45 degree rock
face complete with lizards scurrying into crevices along the way. We reached
the top completely breathless but were rewarded with one of the most amazing
views I’ve ever had the pleasure of setting my eyes on. Even though the day was
incredibly hot, a steady breeze kept us cool and my lungs were treated to some
much appreciated, sweet smelling, smoke and exhaust free, fresh air. We must
have spent nearly an hour walking around the level surface of the rock and
taking in the sights from every angle before stopping to have a quick cookie
picnic and then made our way back down to the bike and rode home. Annelise and
I returned sunburnt, wind-blown and covered in a thin layer of red dust but
feeling incredibly blessed to have seen such a paradise.
Highlights
from the rest of the day included a shower and dinner out at an Indian
restaurant with a group of Annelise’s friends and friends of friends; an
interesting glimpse into the missionary and expat community of Gulu.
Sunday
was rather low-key; church in the morning, which included some really great
worship courtesy of a full band backed up by a choir of children, a quiet
afternoon back at the house and dinner at a restaurant called The Wall that
Annelise had heard was nice but turned out to be a glorified bar on an open
balcony with Fast and Furious playing on a TV screen.
All
in all, it was a really great, relaxing weekend with a wonderful friend
exploring more of what the Pearl of Africa has to offer. I am truly blessed to
live in such a beautiful country.
One of the trails...
Part of the ruins...
Some of the villagers who helped us find our way...
The base of the monolith where we had to ditch the boda...
Apparently a slang word in Acholi that means something along the lines of...it is what it is...
If you look closely, you can see Annelise on the left and Jack on the right...