Leaving Masindi

“This is the car we’re driving?” I say out loud.

Unbelievable! This piece of crap sedan is my transport today. No wonder he didn’t want to explore the safari circuit in the park this afternoon. I just wonder if this rust-mobile will get me to the lodge.

Johnny Boy* answers brightly, “Yes!”

I load my own bags into the back seat. Johnny boy doesn’t flinch. I ease myself into the passenger seat that has tufts of filling sticking through cracked upholstery. “Can you pay my fee now,” he asks me as we pull out onto the road.

Holy salami! “Umm, well I can pay part of your fee now, then pay you the balance when we return,” I glance at him to see if he understood.

“OK.” He quickly licks his lips when he receives 60% of his payment in cash. He pulls into the petrol station then asks me “do you want to stop for breakfast? Seriously?!, I take a quick breath in then tell him “I already ate at home, if you need food you can stop and grab yourself a bite.”

“Oh,” he is quiet for two seconds then states, “I’m going to take you to my friend’s house for a coffee experience.” I sit there, looking straight ahead and don’t say anything. Evidently he understands my silence because we drive a loop around town and he quickly makes the turn towards Hoima.

We had met in-person last week at a local bakery. I asked him if it would be a good idea to drive the Hoima route to Murchinson Falls, which would make the trip a small a loop. “Yes, it’s quite beautiful, we will drive that way,” he agreed. Then stated, “it’ll cost you 50,000 more shillings on top of the 600,000.”

Wait?!! “You said the fee was 500,000 over the phone!”

“No, it’s 600,000 plus an extra 50,000 to go through Hoima, as he sipped the tea that I bought for him. I shrugged my shoulders not having any idea how I was going to keep my hotel reservation in the park without a driver.

Fast-forward to me sitting in the most uncomfortable seat of any private hire, completely flattened by 100s of hefty passengers. My hamstring injury starts protesting within 5 minutes of sitting. (See “The Fall”) “By the way,’ Johnny boy casually says, “I need to stop at my mechanic in Hoima to fix the window.” The passenger side window is stuck all the way down and it’s a cool, windy morning so I agree..

I make an effort to keep calm, thinking I’m finally entering Uganda’s biggest national park, which is only 85 kilometers from Masindi. I’m going to Murchison Falls National Park.

Hoima, an oil industry town

An hour later, we approach the outskirts of Hoima, Richard steers his 23-year-old rust-mobile into a random parking lot. “What are we doing here?” Astounded by the gull of this man. I manage to keep my voice steady and low.

“I haven’t eaten. Let’s get a bite here,” he says while maneuvering the car in front of the restaurant.

I arch my eyebrows, “I ate at home and had my coffee. I will wait for you here in the car.”

25 minutes later, he’s back. “I need to buy a couple of chickens.” I just stare out the passenger window, thinking about traveling with live chickens in the back.

Johnny Boy has been on his cell phone non-stop all morning, weaving from side to side of the road as he talks, dials numbers, and answers call. One of his contacts in the park called, and they need chicken, and I find out later cooking oil.

We drive around Hoima for an hour looking for dressed chickens, Fortune brand oil, and a mechanic that is available. Hoima is an ugly city. It used to be a small agricultural outpost until oil was discovered in the Lake Albert Basin. Oil has brought thousands of people hoping for steady work. Now it’s a cramped, depressing city of unmet dreams for most.

Johnny Boy finds some young mechanics by the bus park. Three of them dissemble the car door to rewire the window on the street. The replacement parts are dusty and brittle, just like the car. Without a word, I look up to see Johnny Boy leaving on a boda boda.

Great, who knows how long he’s going to be!

Albertine Rift above Lake Albert

Later, we drive north out of town towards the far western gate of Murchison Falls and the road gains altitude along the Albertine Rift. I’m stunned. The promised vistas of Lake Albert and the Congolese Mountains are invisible due to the permanent haze that hangs over the entire district. This is what oil development looks like in Uganda. We drive past pipelines, oil rigs, manufacturing facilities on a brand spanking-new-freeway constructed for the new truck traffic. We stop to look at the new army barracks supposedly funded in part by an U.S. aid package. The oil development along with the new casual settlements that migrant workers have built blocks the ancient animal trails to Lake Albert. Wildlife, including herds of elephants, walk to the lake from the national park. Now the wildlife is hit by speeding trucks or killed by residents. This is the fastest growing region in Uganda. It’s one big ugly environmental disaster.

fishing Lake Albert

Laundry at Lake Albert

DRC through the haze

Lake Albert, a Saturday afternoon

There were a few more “surprise” stops, by the time we arrive to the lodge at 1:30 my hamstring is throbbing. I pry myself out of the sedan. The rains come just I enter my private bungalow.

To be continued

*I’m using a fictious name since we live in the same town and I do not want retribution.

A rainy afternoon in the southern sector of Murchison Falls National Park