19th of February, 2018.
At the boarder, everything it is fine. I am actually having some trouble to remember what happened because it was so quick and easy.
I start to walk and I have to be honest when I say that I am not that happy to be back in Uganda.
I walk more than I want because I am looking for a better place to hitchhike. A pick-up passes by but then comes back. They are three soldiers. I am a bit uncertain about come in, and they are also only going until to Kisoro, but I decide to take my chances. Who knows what would happened if I had not? It is always like that…
They leave me in the wrong road. I do not know if it is on purpose or not. I told them I was going to Kampala. They drop me out in the road to Congo. After I walk a lot and wait for a while, a guy finally stops and tell me I am in the wrong way. He is driving a company car that later I would figure out be a kind of organization, which is helping some refugees.
I come the whole way back until the right road. There, I wait for some hours until starts to rain and I have to hide. Over two hours waiting and I started to run to the road from the shelter when I could see some car at distance.
Some people are sharing the shelter with me from time to time. And also some good company of chickens and roosters. More than one person come and ask me if I am OK. They are curious, but also seem truly worried about me.
At some point, the same guy who gave me the right information earlier stops again. The car is now full of refugees who he is driving to a camp. He tells me he will be back soon because he would go to Kampala that night, around three in the morning, so I could go with him. He tells me to wait for him there. I am still waiting.
Middle time, a little before getting dark, two kids and a military man stop and we start to talk. They are trying to help. Then, a student who had passed before and asked if I was OK, now is back and approach us also, trying to help. In a few minutes there are some ten people around me and I get very touch in how they are worried about me.
I explain the situation and what had happened with the refugees guy and they are very upset with him. In the end, we decide I should walk until the Police Station and ask to them to make my camping there. They keep repeating that Kisoro it is not a safe place to make camping.
At the Police Station, they always make a storm in a glass of water. And I never will understand why they are always so rude with the locals. They have this goal to say to the tourist “You are safe now”. Why I was not safe before? After talking with almost a hundred different people, they let me put my tent there. I say goodbye to my new friends Joaquim, Bridge and the others and finish my camping.
The head leader captain ask to another captain to escort me to a Coffee where I could have dinner as his guest. It is a small place with an European air, called Supa’s House. The owner, Patra, is a lovely lady who offer me to stay in one of the free rooms she has in the Guest House. The name of the place it is a mix of her daughter’s name, Suzanne, and hers. When she started, she was only working there but after some time she became the owner. She is really nice and kind, and probably one of the rare women in Uganda who was actually that friendly with me. Thank you so much, Patra!
I come back to the Police Station to take my tent and my stuff. While I am waiting for the captain to come back (he went to his house to change), another police office ask me if I could help him to full fill his dream: to get married with a white person. I do not know what is wrong with those people who believe we are some kind of gods. Please, people, stop acting like that. We are nothing. We are all the same. Nobody is better than anyone. Wake up!
Back to Supa’s House, I eat and go to sleep. Next morning I would leave, around seven, and try to reach Kampala.
10 Years Around the World 