It was always our plan in coming to Uganda to accompany Lawrence back to his home village to celebrate Christmas, something he had been marketing since the very day i met him, his village is in the far western Kanugu district, close to the DRC border. Lawrence stayed in a flat, (the one we were getting set to leave) in the city while studying and continued the cheap rent so he could keep the place over time, however his home and many generations of family roots was situated in Kanugu. His father had managed to obtain a large amount of property there while alive which he had duly passed on to his many, responsible sons, of which Lawrence was one, this put Lawrence in a fairly distinguished position within his village at a very young age, an honour which he looks to expand upon, his networking leaves nothing to be desired, I mean really is the whole of Uganda his family or what?
So today we made the journey from Kampala to Kanugu, starting early again, at 5.00. Due to the sheer amount of family making the voyage car space was tight, Jim and I were tightly jammed into the back of Silver, (Lawrence's actual brothers) vehicle and Lawrence travelled ahead with another. Two others shared the back seat with us, two cousins, one a baby. I was a sardine for the day, I had to ask for stretch stops all the time, my legs were going numb, the distance mounting and time was taking its toll, I found it hard to enjoy the beautiful scenery. Funny pictures come to mind, as we travelled up one long hill, everyone is heading out of Kampala in a classic pre-Christmas dash to get home, we were travelling in a large convey, it was so full of pot holes that it looked like every single driver was drunk, dodging the holes, oncoming traffic and passing cars, honestly to look out the front windscreen was a joke. Silver would stop occasionally at stalls to introduce us to Ugandan treats like bbq'd maize, roasted banana, skin and all, cassava roots and mango, I tried a fruit that no-one in the car new the name of, it was bitter as hell, i thought i didnt get a ripe one so reached back in the bag, same story, they thought I took a liking to it so bought me a whole bag, damn, I couldn't help but politely smile, offer it round, then try to fall asleep, ha ha. the fruit stalls were bright and packed, I wanted all of it, the bus experience of people swarming the car was repeated as i got chicken shoved in my barely awake face, the country side flew by, towns, rivers, hills and all. We reached the village after 12 hours of driving. Set in the middle of a tropical jungle, surrounded by farm area and farm style houses and cottages, I had gone back in time, people wave and wave and wave everywhere as we arrive, they continue to work away with various tools, this family knows every single person here greeting them by name. As we are nearing the village, there was an unbearable smell, Silver points out a dead leopard in the middle of the road, slaughtered by residents as it strayed to close for comfort, that's the first wild leopard I have seen, hm not how I pictured it happening. Silver tells us stories of the days when Idi Amin ruled the land, under his rule these roads were littered with bodies, bad men blockaded every entrance demanding money and vehicles if their demands were refused you joined the others on the side of the road, as a boy Silver had seen all this, he'd seen woman raped and people killed, a far cry from life in New Zealand.
The village could be described as simple, I had been getting used to the way of African life so nothing was a shock, lack of power, not a problem, shower, not a problem, toilet, not a problem, hold on, did you say the toilet meant trekking sometimes in the dark through the banana jungle? when Ive just seen a leopard dead or not? i try to hold on till morning, again politely smiling. Everyone welcomed us openly, they prepared elaborate meals for all, we ate like kings and slept accordingly.
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