Finding my way to the desolate countryside school

About five hours into the journey.

The ride wasn't nearly as long as I expected.  It was HOT and only 10 or 11 hours - when it's a long drive, does it really matter if it's 10 or 11?  I don't think so.  But it is a pleasant surprise that it's shorter than the expected 15 hour ride considering the distance and the road conditions.  The last three hours were on unpaved roads.

Massive rock structures dot the road as we head north.

From Kampala as we move farther and further from the capital city, we see fewer cinder block homes and more plywood and metal sheet homes.  Farther north, the villages and homes gradually change their shape from scattered about square homes to circular villages with circular mud huts with grass, thatched roofing.  The lush banana and mango trees of the south are fewer and fewer as the drive continues.  Before you realize it, there is nothing lush about the landscape and you see that the land is begging for water, even a drop in this season that is supposed to bring rain.  Supposed to bring rain.

The last body of water I saw on our journey to the dry desert.

But we stopped for ice cream.  How nice to find some ice cream on a scorching day and get out of the truck to stretch our legs.  We are packed as tight as four people can be in one truck - a truck filled so high and so tight with supplies for the school out in the remote village that we have bags tied on top of the top of the truck bed.

Ice Cream Shop

For me, I am in the backseat of the four door truck, passenger side.  To get in and out of my seat, I need someone outside the truck to take all the things off my lap and the boxes surrounding my cramped and short legs out of the truck so that I can get out too.  Upon return with the ice cream, the driver holds all these boxes and bags while I get in; he then surrounds me with bags and boxes.  I cannot talk to my mate in the back seat.  She is blocked out by a huge bag of sanitary pads and other supplies you'd expect to find at a girls' secondary school.

No really, it's not crowded at all with this luggage all over my legs!

But we arrive and having visited this school and village less than a year ago, it feels familiar, comfortable; it is my new home.

Still not there yet.

It's been exactly a week since I've arrived and I know I will love this year.  It will be a challenge and I have some serious research to undertake and that is why I am here.  But I think it will be a year like no other in my life - a year that will forever change me, develop my perspective and potentially alter my life's direction...hopefully for the better.

Closer...

Getting Closer...

To some teachers here, it appears I have already begun to earn my keep with them by the mere fact that I returned.  I had tea with two teachers who were quite friendly to me on my last visit and one said to me, 'I didn't think you'd return.  Many say they will come back but they don't.  You, you returned to us.  You are most welcome.'

The ride was worth it.  I do feel most welcome.

Arriving to the trading centre.

My new hometown.