Memoir from Uganda - Conclusion

Julian Welch

Special to the G21

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Murchison Falls -- also known as Kabalega Falls - -has a diverse variety of wildlife including lions, leopards, elephants, hippos, buffaloes, impalas, chimpanzees and the most diverse bird watching in Africa. This sounded just right.

But we ran into a little snag.

The night before we were to leave, Charles took us to a jazz club in an area that is not frequented by Mzungu -- white people. As Kampala became seven small hills with fireflies for house lights, the road ahead became very dark. We were beginning to wonder if this was a good idea.

I spotted light. I assumed we were closer to our destination. These lights were deep in the valley, a good one hundred feet from the street. Homes, I supposed. But these lights began to move to the street as we approached. We had driven into the camp of a well-known, violent rebel army.

In a matter of seconds the lights were totally surrounding the car and Charles nervously explained why we were there. Hands made their way in through the windows and a quick, hard scolding from the driver backed the entire group away from the vehicle and we drove off. We drove slowly and I asked, "Shouldn't we drive faster?"

"That would agitate them and they would chase the vehicle," the driver explained. "Like confronting a rhino in the woods: Don't run from them because they can smell fear."

We found our jazz club and were dropped off. The driver asked if we really wanted to be here. We were in the mood for some music and fun.
"Fun?" he shrugged and drove off.
Our club was a wooden platform in the dirt and grass behind a makeshift gas station with no working pumps. There were no bands, no people, only four very naive foreigners and three rebels who stared at us like we must be the stupidest people alive.
I offered to find a phone and call for a taxi. Charles had disappeared to find jazz. The girls refused to let me go anywhere and told me if I got up to leave they would kill me before the rebels could.

We all sat at a long table near the bug light, which sucked in everything that came near like the Bermuda Triangle. I think I even saw the remains of a stork. Scowling soldiers started to walk to our table so we decided we had had enough fun for one night.

We found a phone together and called for a Kampala cab. With pleasure he came out to get us. This would be his biggest tip, ever. Charles never came back. Our trip to Murchison with him was canceled.

Day fifteen I couldn't fit into my pants as I had lost weight, which was okay by me since I didn't want to wear pants anyway. My teammates and I didn't see eye to eye on this idea so I suffered the oppression of pants and their complaints when my Œbits' would be slightly exposed.

"Then don't look" I replied.

Can't a man have a commando moment in the yard if he likes? The monkeys did and nobody complained about them.

The Vervet monkeys had no sense of dignity nor did they understand class. Monica had been looking at our monkeys with binoculars and I guess one of them didn't enjoy the celebrity she was offering so he masturbated in her view. I had never heard such a squeal from a woman, but I knew I would always like Vervet monkeys from that day on. So much for British class. A pecker is a pecker is a pecker. Kiss my bits.

Day twenty-two brought with it more pain. K's body had decided it had enough of this trip and she began to scream in the matatu in the jungle miles from camp. Despite the teams traveling nurse's best efforts to get her to shut up, K passed a kidney stone in the back seat. The nurse yelled at her claiming that women in Uganda were supposed to be quiet and not to make a scene. I yelled at the nurse that women from the United States liked to scream when they were in as much pain as K was right then. K was a trooper. She was back in the matatu with us the next day. We made an altar for the stone as a sign of strength.

We lost Penny, Dr. Case's assistant, as she stopped going into the bush with us, opting for the comfort of the guesthouse. Penny didn't think she could handle the jungle anymore and she preferred to stay back and do paperwork. Besides the paperwork had been neglected and she felt she was most qualified to do it. Our esteemed Dr. Lowe hadn't been out in the bush with us for days. She had her research to worry about...

It was down to Sue from England, Monica from England, K from Jersey and me from Hell. Dr. Who felt I was the antichrist because I had the nerve to tell her to get her ass into the jungle and meet the people she is supposed to be helping... I'm fine.

I was tired by the twenty-second day of intense disease hunting. We had seen people whose bodies were twisted like a pretzel, some who were so deteriorated from AIDS they could only wave their arms in the air while laying down, hoping to connect with someone, while they suffered from dementia. Some couldn't keep their eyes from rolling into their heads. They had no control over their own eyes. Some spit up while talking to us. Yet there was always such an incredible display of kindness directed towards us.

I was seated on a mat with Sue, K and Monica outside a small mud house taking a break from the heat. A small girl came up to us and sat next to me. Without saying a word she cuddled with me like a lap dog. I held her and realized I had one question remaining for my questionnaire. I asked her if she had water in her home. She got up and brought me her daddy's biggest cup filled with their own-very-hard-to- come-by-water, as you know from prior words, and offered it to me. The kindness was overwhelming.

I knew if the water wasn't boiled I couldn't drink it. I hadn't had my hepatitis shots before my trip. I didn't want to insult the girl either. I took the cup and thanked her and took a small sip praying this was boiled. I handed it to Sue and glaring at me, she did the same. K and Monica both sipped. We were concerned both for our health and for drinking her liquid gold. Then she dumped out the rest, set down the cup, and cuddled with me again. I knew then it was not boiled.

Our last day in Kakiri was filled with adventure. It would have to be. I was sitting near a girl who began to jerk and shake violently and I knew she was having a seizure. The villagers weren't so sure as they all freaked out and stepped away from this girl as if she were demon possessed. She reached out to touch me. She was frightened and needed someone to be near her.

I stayed and took her hand. The villagers mumbled to themselves and pointed at me. I smiled at the girl and spoke softly knowing full well she couldn't understand me, but hoped my tone might calm her. The seizure stopped and the people went back to their business. I got up and walked to the other side of the house and wept. Monica came running around the house to find me.

"What have you been doing? Let's go."

I ran to the matatu. As it was driving off I jumped in dragging my feet a ways before securing my whole body inside.

"What is going on?" I steamed.

"We are going after the mayor."

"Oh, of course."

Our main interpreter had been trying to get an interview with the mayor as some terrible rumors had spread throughout the village. We had learned that terrible rumors traveled fast and were almost always believed to be true.

We spotted the mayor and he made a run for it. I had no idea what he was running from or why we were chasing him. I knew if we wanted the village to be mad with us, this would surely do it. Four Mzungu chasing down their mayor to poison him, or worse, get him drunk on banana beer.

We hit two-foot anthills and ants hit the car. Several ants flew into the car as all the windows were down. The air-conditioner had given out on day three.

The mayor turned the corner and made a gesture I couldn't recognize and disappeared again. We stopped, as our incredible piece of machinery just couldn't go into them thar hills. Monica had turned green from motion sickness. We let her out and she deposited lunch in the mayor's province. That'll show him who's boss. Mzungu one, mayor nothin'.

"Why is it so important for us to talk to the mayor?" Sue asked.

Apparently, this was the wrong question. George and Joaquin stepped out the van and talked silently out of our earshot. It became curiously quiet except we could hear Monica's grunts and groans.

"Could she puke louder?" I asked with a great deal of compassion and sensitivity.

Monica herself answered my question. I turned to see her face all chimney red and Halloween orange, with a lovely shade of shamrock green puke in her hair. Her answer was sweet and simple: "You're a fucking cunt."

Those crazy Brits, God love em...I believe I am now at only three days until I go home. Let's see...I counted the days...Yep, it's three.

Joaquin opened the door and leaned in. "The mayor is raping other men's wives."

We were stunned

"Why is he afraid of us?" K asked.

"He thinks you are from the government and he doesn't want to be arrested."

"Shouldn't he be?" I wondered.

They seemed confused by this question.

"Well, he does pay the husbands off in banana beer. In order to keep them quiet." The bananas were the work of some evil spirit, I was convinced.

"Does it work?" Sue was very worried she knew the answer. Her face grew pale.

I may be a weak man or I may seem like a coward or I don't know what I am, but I could not imagine what else could be experienced by a group of people like these villagers. And we had only been here a month.

Later that night death visited the neighboring villages taking lives without prejudice. I couldn't sleep.

The dogs barked at the monkeys. The monkeys threw jackfruit at the dogs, causing them to howl. I ran outside in my underwear and screamed at the dogs. Vervit's jumped from tree to tree and storks stretched out their wings reminding me to stay away from the trash bins. I stepped back inside and heard a scream. Sue and Monica ran to me.

"There are two men looking in our windows." Then I heard a gunshot and another scream.

Sue jumped out of her skin and Monica dug her nails into my arm. K and Janet were awake and sitting up in their netted kingdoms. Two soldiers stumbled to the front of our door and looked bewildered by the noises.

"What was that gunshot?" I had hoped the soldiers weren't so drunk they couldn't help us in case of some attack. There had been rumors some rebels were close. Idi Amin had lined up doctors, nurses and staff at Mulago in the 1970's and shot them all. He didn't like anyone smarter than him, which meant he was out to kill anything brighter than a goat.

To some the new president was the same, but more subtle. I feared the rebels had made it to town.

Another soldier had stumbled around the corner to show us he had fallen onto his gun and shot himself in the face. Lights were on throughout Mulago and Dr. Case stepped outside to see the bleeding, drunk soldier long enough to call him an idiot. The maids at Mulago assisted him and told us we didn't want to risk being blamed for this and to stay away.

K wept for her fiancee. I asked her what she did for a living to change the subject. She told me she worked in a crisis center for suicidal victims. "No wonder you handle this program so well." I told her I had struggled to keep my sanity. I will never forget what she told me.

"You think I'm handling this well. I feel like I want to die."

Day Whatever... Sue and I sat at breakfast eating in silence. K and Monica joined us. We all sat and said nothing. Janet had left days before. The good doctor and Renfield preferred not to eat with us, as we had become the scourges of this trip, because we had the nerve to have opinions on this ethics nightmare.

We were leaving today and nobody knew how to say goodbye.

Well, they were leaving today. I so enthusiastically thought before I left the States I would want several extra days after the project to enjoy the scenery. I was sure I'd have the energy and desire...

"Ssebo, I have some information for you on the sights you had talked about." The maid -- whose name I could never remember -- brought me some brochures.

"Gorilla watching is the most popular tour offered in Uganda. Companies will bid against each other and the tourist picks the lowest price. The hike is very strenuous, but seeing the great creatures eradicates all the suffering caused by bug bites and mud and cramps you will have endured."...She faded. I can't remember if she was reading or...what...I waved goodbye to Sue, Monica, and K...

I walked Kampala. I ate goat and drank Nile. I laughed at the Dominoes pizza driver who gripped the wheel with eyes wide open. I learned. I grew. I forgave. I ached.

I sat with cheese from the deli and remembered. I had always thought my prior meditations would be realized...