Many vehicles in Uganda post phrases in big shiny letters on their front and back windshields. They say things like “Allah is great”, “God’s Power”, “Manchester United” but my most recent favorite has been, “Things fall apart”. I remember Heidi and I chuckling when we saw it, thinking so true. Well, now we might as well paste it our our own windshield as our most recent trip over the mountains proves that the Bundibugyo road literally rattles your car to pieces.
So we had made it past the switch backs and were bumping along maybe 25 km from home when we heard metal making contact with dirt. I whirled around and seeing nothing left behind, stuck my head out the open window to check the tires. Still nothing, then another big bump and metal scraping again. Heidi pulled over to makes sure the “underside of the car wasn’t falling off”, she joked. But this was no joke. The cover for the fuel tank had lost 2 of its bolts and was dragging the ground. Heidi made a call to John back in Bundi about what we should do. Since we had a few tools the plan was to remove the cover and continue to drive. So there I was on my back with wrench in hand unscrewing things off the bottom of the car. A few guys on boda’s stopped to watch and help. I have to admit I felt pretty proud of myself. Hands all greasy, dirty pants... practically a mechanic. Never mind that I still can’t drive a manual transmission on my own. As the saying goes. Pride goes before the fall. I just didn’t know how literal this was going to be.
After the successful removal we hit the road again. Not two minutes down the road we passed a friend, Vincent Kawah, who is the headmaster of a local school and friend of many on the mission. He waved us down to give him a ride and we were happy to oblige. Onward we went chatting about Nyahuka news until interrupted by a load thud. Vincent yelled, “STOP! STOP! something has fallen from the car.” Bet you can guess what that was... Yep our fuel tank had actually fallen off the car!
We hopped out yet again. Vincent headed down the road to inspect the fallen tank. Heidi started to make phone calls and I looked back under the car and sure enough where the fuel tank had been, remained a few loose wires and hoses. Vincent managed to save all the fuel from draining out and used plastic bags and banana fibers to ceil off the openings. We were also thankful for his eyes and ability to keep those who wished to syphon off the diesel from coming too close. And thankful as two single women in the middle of nowhere, for his presence when about 15 UPDF (Ugandan Peoples Defense Force) came walking up the road in their camo with rifles slung on their backs. The mechanic in Bundibugyo town was actually out of town, so we called the Bishop’s son Robert who had a vehicle and might be able to tow us. Praise God! He was already headed our way. What we didn’t know was that his car was already being used by Samoli who is currently campaigning for a place in parliament. Just as dusk was turning into dark, Robert and his gang pulled up in the party wagon plastered with huge yellow posters of Samoli’s face. Music was blaring from monster speakers in the bed of the truck. Samoli got out, starting to shake hands with the crowd that had already about tripled in size. An wrinkled little woman approached me encouraging me to join the spontaneous dance party... but for some reason I just wasn’t feeling it. I went over to Heidi and considered asking her to pinch me. I mean this had to be some crazy dream that I was having.
Shortly after that John and our neighbor Biwah also arrived bringing us a little more back to reality. We were equally excited to learn that John brought pasta salad with him... THANK YOU Loren Clark! The party wagon was now hooked to our car with John in the drivers seat and Heidi, Vincent, Bihwah and I happily waiting in the Clarks car. Then the party truck stalled and almost rolled back into ours... by this time we just laughed, not surprised by much. The second start was successful and the car was towed to the Bishop’s house were it now waits to be repaired.
Vincent, Heidi and I sat in the back seat sharing Loren’s DELICIOUS pasta salad. Tired, but not too tired to thank God for how he had watched over us. Vincent had no idea what he was getting into when he flagged us down, but the timing of it all was none other than the orchestration of our Heavenly Father. Vincent could not have been more kind and helpful. Robert and the mobile disco were our life line, as well as a little comic relief. And the presence of John and Biwah were assuring, and made me thankful yet again for a supportive team and neighbors we can depend on. Amazed again at the hand of God in our lives and the reminder that God is good... all the time!
