filling in the blank...mon/tues

Monday: There wasn’t much sleep that night, and today began within moments of getting out of bed…8 hours of “investigation” and conversations. Between conversations/dealings with Mission staff later in the day, I laid down on the couch to gather my thoughts and rest, an hour later I woke up from a drool inducing nap when Anna sneezed. I was exhausted!

In addition to serving African tea to the UPDF who had diligently hung around to see the situation handed over into the hands of the police, there were many hours of standing around talking about the goings on of the previous 12 hours, and a couple of trips to my least favorite place in Nyahuka, the Police Station. The Bundibugyo police station’s are some of my least favorite places, my discomfort levels are pushed every time I visit – not sure if it’s the seeming façade of justice, a crew of policemen sitting around usually not doing much, the heebeejeebees I get when standing at the counter next to what I not-so-fondly refer to as “the cage” – a 7’x7’x7’ cube made out of wide pieces of lumber with tiny gaps between the planks - the “holding cell” which suspects are held in until they are either released or moved to either “the cage” in BGO Town or the district prison in Bubukwanga. When you fill the cell with African men, all that’s visible to those of us on the outside is the reflection of the light from the front doors behind me in the eyes of their dark faces…catching a glance of a cell full of eyes peering at you through the gaps as your information is recorded in the books is rather unsettling. So, when sitting to wait to have my statement taken, or waiting for people to translate the discussion of the situation from Lubwisi into English, I usually spend a lot of time staring at the ground, at the shiny black boots of the police officers and/or UPDF soldiers gathered or the light blue crocs which in the past have been on Jennifer’s feet sitting next to me, but now have my own feet inside.

The day also included some CSI Bundibugyo work by John and myself, tracking the indentations and smudges of gumboot foot prints running into the Demo Garden, over the fence into our yard - complete with brush/plants crushed under the weight of the intruder, and back out of the Garden again; marking each print, taking photos…I was typically cynical that anything will come from it, but John pressed on, so I continued.

Highlight of the day: The return of one of my wallets containing both of my driver’s licenses, my health insurance and ATM cards, and my PASSPORT!!! The details of course are VERY murky, but the most important things were recovered. Why did it take 12 hours for them to surface from a Mission staff member’s home? Why did no one responsible mention it to John or I? Was it before or after the rain? Why were the items dry when it had rained off and on during the night/morning they were reported to be found in the grass? On and on and on the conversations went…

So, Anna held down the fort, received concerned guests/friends who heard news of the events of the previous night, made tea for the soldiers, talked to concerned teammates who were out of the district and managed to get some work of her own done amidst all the drama.

When the sun began to go down we were spent…frustrated, thankful, frustrated, thankful. There were gin and tonics, 3 episodes of Chuck and Ghiardelli triple chocolate brownies to cap off the day.


Tuesday:

First thing we headed back to the police station where the official we had talked to the day before seemed somehow slimier than he had the day before…Anna gave her statement of the events that occurred on the night of Saturday the 7th of August 2010, and we moved on, we still had a car to get repaired…remember that? The fuel tank that fell off? Yeah, we still had that to care of. Never a dull moment.

So, off Anna and I went in the Clark’s vehicle with George the vehicle savvy houseworker on loan from Pat who was out of the district, AND Vincent who wanted to see his mom who lives near the Bishop, AND a fellow teacher of his who needed a ride to town. We went to Bgo Town to find the mechanic named Hakim on Vanilla road…Hakim turned out to be about 12…okay, so maybe he was 20, but he was smiling and respectful and had a yellow mechanic’s jumpsuit on, so I told him to get in and we’d take him to see the damage. We drove to the Bishop’s in Bumadu and assessed the situation, found the size of bolts needed to replace the tank to it’s original position, went back to town to find the bolts and a few tools, returned to Bumadu and we waited. Janet brought chairs for us to sit under the shade tree next to the vehicle, George was the assistant mechanic helping Hakim the whole time, Vincent went to visit his mom and tried to help when he could. At 6pm we were “cookin’ with gas” as my dad says. George drove the Zoolander and I drove the Clark’s vehicle and we were on our way back to Nyahuka…5 hours and $30 later (60,000 Ush) we were golden – fuel tank in it’s proper position and full-ish of fuel. Above are a few photos documenting the tank’s being on the ground and in process of repair. Note the rwenzori water bottle funnel, bafu and jerry can fuel storage, and the Nomi container scoop…perfect…So thankful for Janet and Robert and all of their help, the Bishop and his wife for their kindness/patience with us, for Hakim and his respectful good work, for George and Vincent and their help…and so thankful for a fuel tank properly attached to the vehicle and effectively powering the car where we needed it to go. It’s the little things in life that are actually not so little, you know?

Favorite quote of the day (from Janet after watching the mechanic wipe his filthy hands on his grease stained jumpsuit): “Being the wife of a mechanic, ah!, it’s a big work!”...note to self...

Hardest part of all of these incidents: the thought of facing them alone. I usually pride myself in my independence, in my ability to handle the mechanic, the police, the UPDF…by myself. But this week, I’d had enough of independence…I didn’t want to do any of it…I realized, I’m tired of having to do all of this stuff myself, in not having a husband to share the load of life with, the commitment of another person who has to stick through this crap with you, and you through their crap.

Best part of all of these incidents: the community God has given me. John spent most all of his day on Monday helping me sort through the theft stuff, spent most of his evening on Saturday helping us get towed and Loren was willing to have him do all of the above, leaving her with a toddler and a brand new baby to face the craziness of the day – and she even cooked dinner for us TWICE (when we should have been cooking for her)!, Anna spent all of her day on Tuesday waiting with me since she knew I was struggling with doing it myself. Pat and Johnsons and Myhre's praying from varying distances of afar...Janet, Robert, George, Vincent, Bihwa, the UPDF, and the list goes on…in the end, I faced very little of it alone! Mukama Asiimwe. Asiimwe Muno.