Installment #6--The White House...In Uganda?

Monday morning was a jumble of mixed feelings. I was very excited that we would be heading out to Pabo, but I was also quite nervous. Amidst the scurrying around, journal writing, and final preparations for the trip, one of the other volunteers came to retrieve me and let me know that Charles (my cooperating teacher) was at the front gate wondering if he could catch a ride with us out to the camp. He had been at the hospital with his cousin who had just had a baby, so he missed the bus on Sunday night. We talked to Amy, and it was fine that he joined us. IC sent two trucks in the morning for the trips to Atanga and Pabo, and after packing both and realizing that the big group should probably have taken the bigger car and the small group should have probably taken the smaller car (I use car lightly—I really mean Land Cruiser safari style, and double cab Toyota Tundra), we switched all of the gear around and started our trips. The road to Pabo is actually only a very small segment of a much larger road. Around here, we know the road as “The Road to Sudan,” but in reality, the road runs from Egypt all the way south to South Africa. I have to say that a trip that far would definitely result in bruised tailbones, aggravated hemorrhoids, and discombobulated internal organs. There are so many potholes, bumps, and eroded patches along the road that cars can only move at a crawl for long stretches and are rarely able to accelerate for any period of time. We arrived at the school, dropped Charles off, and headed to the White House.

The White House has a small store front that sells the typical soda, beer, bags of vodka and gin, and bottles of water. It sits on the edge of the actual IDP camp (the school is about 2km outside of the IDP camp). Behind the White House is a small courtyard with rows of rooms lining either side. The rooms are very simple, with a bed accompanied (after some asking) by a large mosquito net. There is a sink, a bed, and a shower head off in the corner, but no running water (and a sign, drawn in big sharpie marker across the tile that reads “Do Not Use!”—I think that they are planning on eventually having plumbing one day, but certainly don’t yet). We receive a jerry can of water as needed, and have a small green wash basin to take a bath with in the mornings (or evenings—if you leave the can out in the sun, it gets nice and lukewarm.