Sometimes the best-laid plans go astray…

Okay so we’ve decided we need a back up plan. The way it’s going so far our internship at the university will not be enough to keep us occupied 9am to 5pm, Monday to Friday, everyday for three months and, if you hadn’t worked it out already, Mbarara isn’t exactly awash with exciting tourist attractions (not that we don’t love the big plastic cow). When we walk into town we always pass a sign pointing to the Mbarara Office of the United Nation High Commission for Refugees and so we decide that today is the day that we should walk the 10 kilometre round trip to find it. Naturally we get ourselves organised at a leisurely pace, this being the one part of African life that we have effortlessly adjusted to, and are ready to leave around eleven. Just in time for the hottest part of the day, woops.

Now, everyone that knows me knows I’ve never exactly been the most eager walker, but we’re literally desperate for things to do and we’ve never been in the direction that the UNHCR is in, and luckily for Sacha I get caught up in the sense of adventure. Admittedly the first half of the journey was neither very scenic nor all that safe as we had to walk along the side of one of the main roads into Mbarara. But hey, this is Africa, and in Africa you do as the Africans do (except get onto those death trap boda bodas). Around half an hour into our journey we decide that we must be getting close, and are excited to see the familiar UN blue and white sign in the distance. However our excitement was probably a little premature, as the sign was merely to tell us that we’d reached the halfway point and that we had another 2 kilometres to go in another direction, down a road that was definitely off the beaten track.

“How can a UNHCR office be all the way out here?!” we constantly question as we make our way down the road-less-travelled, and we make multiple contingency plans for what to do if we walk and walk and just don’t find it. We’re pretty sure we’re not even in Mbarara anymore at this point. However the scenery is breathtakingly beautiful, and we walk past lots of farmland and up hills that give us lovely views of our countryside surroundings. Who knew walks could be such fun? Even the blistering heat isn’t stopping us from having a good time, although our lack of sun cream was probably a massive oversight (sorry mum). Another lovely thing about being this far out of the city is that we get to see how ‘normal’ Ugandan’s live. As I’m sure you know Uganda is not a very wealthy country, and a lot of income is produced via agriculture. It was really inspiring to meet

people who clearly do not have much, but are still very content with their lot in life. We’re yet to see the stereotypical starving African child that is plastered all over our TV screens, rather we see happy children who are full of life and energy. Furthermore it is clear that the people who express an interest in talking to us don’t do so because they want something from us but because they’re excited to meet the ‘people from the other world’. This was something that we discussed at length during our walk, and as cheesy as it sounds, these people really are inspiring. They have so much less than we have but manage to stay content, whereas when we think back to our own lives at home, which are much more privileged by far, we can think of so many small things that cause discontent.

Eventually we make it through the outback and beyond to the front door of the UNHCR’s office. You’d have to see it to believe it. There is nothing nearby. Just one farm with one cow, and then countryside as far as the eye can see. How they get any work done here is pretty beyond me, but we approach anyway to see if we can score a meeting with someone who might want our help with something. We’ve heard God loves a trier!

Unfortunately for us the officer keeping guard of the office gates doesn’t love triers half as much. He quickly tells us that all the UN employees are very busy with meetings today, and that we are welcome to come back any time, any day, but just not right now. Okay then. Not exactly the response we wanted after our long walk. But our offers to wait fall of deaf ears and we resign ourselves to the long walk home, our mission unsuccessful. It wasn’t for nothing though, as we enjoyed our adventure so much that we resolve to do it a couple more times in different directions just to see where we end up. We also made some very good friends in the local boda boda drivers, who demanded group photos, and individual photos with us as we walked by. Said pictures are attached for your viewing pleasure. Don’t think I’d have any trouble finding a husband here mum!

When we get home we time for a quick wash and some lunch before we are due back at the university for our third meeting. I wonder how many of these it takes before things start to get done?

Apparently third time really is the charm! Not only do we have some editing and research to be getting on with, Primrose has also promised to start making arrangements for a visit to the Nichevale refugee camp, whilst also filling up the rest of our diaries. We finally feel like we’re getting somewhere! At this moment it really doesn’t seem to matter where that place may be.

Next on the list of our thing to do is to replace my Africa phone, as it

seems that I may have bought a counterfeit. This shouldn’t surprise me really; we worked out that I spent less than £4 on a SIM card, handset, and credit; I mean it’s no IPhone but still, no phone is worth less than £4. Clever Muzungo. So we wander back into town, skilfully avoiding the shop that scammed me last time, and approaching a nice looking man instead. In order to appear like we knew what we were doing second time around we immediately ask which of his phones are counterfeit and how on earth you are supposed to tell (aside from price of course). He seems nice enough and shows me a nice selection of new phones. I pick the same one as before, not counterfeit, for which he gives the price of 200,000USh; definitely a mark up from what I paid last time - this one must be real! I happily get my money out whilst Sacha looks on slightly more concerned, it turns out that she’s done the quick maths and 200,000USh works out as £35. So now I’m being scammed the out of even more of my money. Bloody nightmare. I shouldn’t be allowed to buy anything unaccompanied. Luckily the transaction is not yet settled, and I swiftly remove my money from the nice man’s grasp, make my excuses, and leave. Once again the third time is the charm, and I find a suitable phone, for a suitable price, with a substantial guarantee in the local supermarket. Why didn’t I start here in the first place?