West Coast Friendship

Traveling is exhausting in this country, which is ironic still all you do is sit and pay people out of the window for food and water.

275 miles takes 9 and a half hours to travel, double the time of what it should take.

This is contributed to the road condition, random pickups, and bathroom stops.

Dad, you’d go crazy!

Most often I end up sleeping or singing along to some Mumford and Sons song from my iPod. 

Today I made a friend.

As I boarded the Post Bus I took a window seat crucial to your survival.  Minutes later this man can up and asked if he could sit next to me.  I was curious why he decided not to take one of the other 30 plus empty seats behind but I welcomed him.

Then we started talking.

Daniel, pronounced Danielle, was traveling up to Gulu today to be with his wife and sons after some time in Kampala searching for schools.  Throughout our conversation I found out that he has not been to his home area in Gulu since 2007 as he was working in Somalia and Nairobi doing child protection and social work.  He went on to share about his travels throughout Africa and in the States, including San Francisco.  His wife, who also works in child protection, was based out of Monterey some few years back and they absolutely loved the Bay Area.

We definitely talked about seafood for a good twenty minutes.

We discussed everything from politics and family to work and culture.  I felt so comfortable talking with him because I felt like he could somehow relate.  He did not doubt me when I said that the weather of the Bay Area is similar to Uganda because he lived it.  He did not argue with me about my observations in Uganda and rather we had a healthy discussion. 

It did not stop there. 

He was an open book.

He told me about when he was younger and how his promiscuous behavior led him to drinking heavily and loosing focus in school.  It took the death of four of his six siblings in a five-month period to get him back on track.  He explained that sometimes a bad situation has to come about for us to recognize the path we are on and change our behaviors.

I could not agree more.

We talked about the cultural norms of Ugandans and Americans.  In his experience many Americans are individualistic and shut themselves off from others, except Californians.

California for the win!

I then shared that Ugandans are some of the most welcoming of people and will do anything to make others happy, even if money is not there.  They figure it out.

Case and point: Throughout the 8 hour ride to Gulu this guy bought me water, maize, and shared his Gonja, which are sweet roasted bananas.  Now I had money with me and even pulled it out to pay for the water but he insisted as we had become friends and this is what friends do.

It was sad to see him leave in Gulu as I continued on the dusty, unpaved road to Kitgum.

I hope to make it down to visit him and his family before they leave for Nairobi in two weeks.

This time I will bring the water.