Last Day in the Village

For many reasons, including time and technology, I'm behind in my blog dates, if you want a more up todate, and what I assume is a shorter and to the point verion, check out the blog from Charles Bash at www.Ikamiro.blogspot.com.

We are about to head for the airport and will do my best to write while we travel to catch up with a post when we get back home, but for now. Here is what I have.

Uganda Feb 9th

I can’t believe it’s already Saturday, our last day to visit the village before we get up and make the day-long drive back to Kampala from Kabale.

In case you are confused by all these village names, well, I’ve been here a week and I’m not sure I have it straight. Muko is a small village, depending on the road conditions and road construction, about an hour and a half drive from where we are staying in the bigger town of Kabale. Muko is also the name of the sub-county, of which Ikamiro is a Parish. The actual villages of Muko and Ikamiro are just a few miles apart strung along a mountain-side road. I tell you this to help set up the situation for the bit of drama I will tell you about in a moment.

It was supposed to be a low-key day with minor odds and end to finish at the clinic in Ikamiro followed by a registration of our 14th orphan back in Muko; a visit to the Muko Saturday Market. We would say our good byes and get back to Kabale early for packing and dinner. It essentially went like that in the long run but not before some surprises.

We stopped to pick up Richard on the way through Muko, we all wanted to be on hand when the solar power for the clinic could be declared officially done. It would also give some of us a chance to see the new chalk boards in the school as it was raining too hard the day we were there to make it across the yard between buildings.

As you have been reading it has been raining hard every afternoon here, slowing outdoor projects such as installing the solar panels on the roof of the clinic. It also made the roads very sloppy with deep wet sticky clay.

As we made our way up to the clinic in Ikamiro this day, our 4x4 bus/van fishtailed a bit at each low spot. As we rounded a tight curve on the edge of this road, we encountered a large farm truck with one back wheel of the edge toward the valley, right down on the axle. The front end of the truck was completely blocking the road. There was no way to even begin to pull this truck back up on the road until it’s cargo of at least 100 bags of potatoes was off loaded to the ground. These are not ordinary bags of potatoes. They were about 4 feet tall and as big around as a tree--Each pushing 250 pounds or better. I thought to try to help but after one bag fell over from the stack, it took all I had just to pull it upright again so I knew just attempting to lift and carry just one would put me out of commission.

Three or four young men did all the work. The others would wrestle the rough poly-weave bag to the back edge of the tilted truck, while one man received the full load of the bag against his bowed neck and shoulders. They would help the man straighten to balance the load on the frame of his skeleton and off he would go, negotiating the gap between the floundered truck and the wall of the hill. Each man took his turn walking the load through wet sticky clay up to his ankles in spots, past the truck, past our bus and leaving it with a toss to the pile that was building to the side of the road behind our bus.

This was going to be a long process, let alone painful to watch. Charles and David decided to take off on foot, the couple or remaining miles to the clinic so that they could truly be done with the final things they had to do before we left.

With the truck finally unloaded, they tied a long and strong piece of what appeared to be nylon rope to the frame of our bus. It looked like a hodge-podge of salvaged misc. pieces that only God himself could keep together with the forces we were about to exert on it. Those of us that were off the bus as spectators were asked to get back on the bus as ballast--Finally a way to help. Christopher backed the bus down and with truck tires spinning and strong men lifting and pushing, the truck returned to the sloppy road ad to the side so we could pass. Once again, welcome to Africa.

By the time we reached the clinic Charles and David had already been back to work. We toured the now dry and empty school, and took pictures of the chalk boards to share with you all at home.

Soon we were called into the waiting room of the clinic and Charles lead us through a prayer that was emotion soaked for all of us. For the first time in Ikamiro village electric lights glowed from the ceiling of the brand new clinic. There was a loud cheer and praise to God from the gathered crowed of team members and locals, and the vaccine refrigerator hummed along in harmony--Things already betta.

We made it back down to Muko without further transportation delays, where we were able to greet, register and photograph the remaining orphan and care provider. We all took a walk together through the amazingly large Saturday market spread out along the hill in Muko. Some of us left the market early for a beer in the bar next to the SOS office. I bought one for my young friend Josiah, a local teacher and one of the SOS volunteers. There was no refrigeration of course so the bottle of Nile special was on the warm side, the bar matron wiped the dust off the bottles with a well-used rag and popped the tops off before handing them over. They were wet enough to be refreshing and I toasted one of our many new friends, Josiah, before we all said our goodbyes and got on the bus for the last trip back to Kabale.