remember that one time in Uganda?!?

Well, I'm not really sure where to start on this one, but I feel like it definitely deserves a blog entry.

This past weekend we went to Rwanda, and it was truly an amazzzing experience. So amazing, in fact, that I feel it deserves a long and wonderful entry that I can devote time and devotion to. Unfortunately right now I have neither, so it will have to suffice to say that it was a really great trip, that everyone should go refresh their memory on the Rwandan Genocide of 1994, and that I PROMISE I will put up a better entry about it later. BUT, the subject of this post actually comes in the form of what happened on the way home...

A group of seven of us went to Rwanda, and Saturday night we were all out to dinner at the Hotel de Mille Collines (or something along those lines. the french are crazy), which is actually the Hotel Rwanda that the movie is based on. So we were excited to be there, it's a really nice restaurant and we were all having a really good time. Thennnn we go to pay the bill, and Ashley's purse was gone! So that led to a whole series of adventures, which will be addressed later. But the end result was that Ashley and I stayed behind in Rwanda an extra day to get her passport and money situation figured out. So the group left Sunday, and then we left Monday.

First of all, the bus was in MAD CHAOS all day long. It had been overbooked, so there was some major fighting (literally slaps and punches) to get on the bus in the first place. Ashley and I didn't understand what all the fuss was about so stepped out of the mayhem, only to board the bus to find out we would be sitting on wicker stools in the aisle for the bus trek. SWEET. The weekend had been long, emotional, and often frustrating, so as you can imagine, the doom of a ten hour bus ride on a wicker stool was not very appealing. So we just sucked it up and tried to focus on the fact we were going to get home to Lugazi, and we would just deal with it.

At the Ugandan border, another slew of chaos ensued, as everyone realized seats were not save-able, and we all had to get off to get our passports stamped. Mayhem. So miraculously Ashley and I, along with 2 other Mzungus we met, and our Ugandan friend Emily all were the first on the bus. So Emily, Ashley, and I reserved a row, put all our stuff down, and then Ash and Em went out to the bathroom.

In the meantime, the original resident of the seat comes back, (visualize a 45 year old fat man who speaks no English. funny, i know) climbs ON to the seat, and despite my protests, proceeds to SIT ON MY HEAD. I kid you not, the fat man sat on my head. So of course at this point I have to scoot over to the edge. I WAS SO FURIOUS. (Haha that sentence looks so stale compared to my emotion of the day, but it will have to do.)

So anyways, the resulting situation is Ashley in the back of the bus, switching off on the wicker chair with our American friend Greg that we met, and me in the front of the bus switching off the wicker chair with our Ugandan friend Emily. Both of us furious, Ashley crying in the back, and me yelling at the fat man, who couldn't understand a word I said and instead just laughing at me, in the front. Needless to say, the bus journey was off to a GREAT start.

Now, bus drivers in Uganda, and all of Africa I'm sure, are known for being ridiculously crazy. They are always in a rush here, always passing, always swerving around. So our bus driver just happened to be completely on edge and was driving LIKE A MAD MAN. I was too frustrated still to notice a whole lot, but I do remember thinking we were going super fast, and later everyone I talked to said he was driving SUPER CRAZY. So as I'm zoned out staring straight ahead, sitting in the seat at this point and not the stool, (keep in mind I can't see anything around me... both windows are blocked by a bunch of people, and the front and back were blocked by 15 people in the aisle. Basically I cant move or see.) All of a sudden the bus starts jolting around, we majorly swerve (still going full speed at this point), everyone starts screaming, and suddenly BAMMMM we are rolling.

Holy scariest thing of my life. I didnt realize until just now how ridiculously hard it is to describe the whole situation in writing, especially when I'm not focused on being eloquent and descriptive. We all know I need my crazy hand movements and illustrative voice for true story telling. But seriously, it was crazy.

As soon as I realized we really were going to flip, I gripped the arm rest with my elbow and braced for impact. It all went by super fast, but suddenly we just started to roll over and people flew EVERYWHERE. We figured out there had to have been over 90 people crammed on this one little bus, so as you can imagine, it was quite a mess of people. We landed in a big pit of water and mud- which was great for a softer impact, but also created more craziness in the tipped bus because there was mud everywhere, and it exploded up through the broken windows when we hit. The first few seconds after impact I just focused on figuring out my positioning and making sure I could move all my limbs (and had them all... haha). I was jammed between a bunch of people, so I just focused on breathing in my little airpocket, and slowly maneuvering my way into having more space.

Everyone quickly readjusted and luckily I was able to pull myself out of the mess pretty rapidly. By this time, the side windows (now serving as our roof) had been opened, and I climbed up the staircase made of sideways chairs, and was pulled out of the top. I turned to see Ashley emerging at about the same time, and I have never been happier to see anyone in my whole life! We had a dramatic top-of-a-crushed-bus reunion moment of joy and hugs, and then I proceeded to stick my head back in the window to help with the pull-out effort. By this point the front window was crushed out, so people could move out, but I looked down to see our Irish friend Elaine still laying sideways on the bottom. Nobody spoke any English, so I had to sign language translate everything she was telling me to the guys still down below so they could help her out. After she was carried out, they just started tossing out backpacks and bags to throw over to those waiting on the side of the bus. It's a really hard visual to describe, but luckily our friend Greg got some pictures of the after-events, so I will have those up as soon as he emails them to me.

Elaine had to be transported to the hospital, so Ashley, Greg, and I jumped into the ambulance that was taking her to Mbarara. Even though we had met her merely hours ago, we didn't feel good about sending her off alone to an African hospital. If you have ever seen an African hospital, then you definitely know why.

Anyways, the night calmed down a bit from that point. Once we got to the hospital, it was severely understaffed so Ashley and I dubbed ourselves nurses for a couple hours. All the doctors had their attention on Elaine, so we did our best to help the rest of the injured people that had come in... mostly just jarred backs and minor cuts. We kept just stopping being like HOLY CRAP DID THAT SERIOUSLY JUST HAPPEN??? usually followed shortly by HOLY CRAP ARE WE SERIOUSLY HAVING TO BE NURSES IN AN AFRICAN HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW?!?!

It was a crazy experience, but all things considered we were very lucky. Ashley Rogers, our country director, came to rescue us with a private taxi (there was no way in heck i was getting on another crowded bus in the middle of the night) and she got there around 2:30am. We hopped in and headed for Lugazi (after we were sure a private ambulance was coming to get Elaine to take her to a better hospital in Kampala, the capital) and started the long drive home. We got back to Lugazi at about 9:30am, and I have NEVER been so excited to see our lovely home as I was that morning. Throughout the course of the middle of the night, I got calls from Mommy, Grandma and Grandpa B (thanks for sendin lovins, Dad), and also Annalicia. Hearing their voices was so comforting, and I am super glad it worked out that they could call me.

It seems to be as hard to end this post as it was to start it, as I'm not really sure you end such a thing. Yeah, so I almost died but I didn't. Sweet. Haha somehow it doesn't seem appropriate. But anyways, I just wanted to get the whole story out before rumors back home start flying, and let everyone know that I am OK! I have bruises all over and my body is pretty sore, but it is really nothing that a few days won't fix. It is weird to think how truly fragile life can be. The fact nobody died in that crash was truly a miracle, and it's comforting to know that somebody was looking out for us on the occasion.

PS: Thanks for reading everyone. I don't think I realized that people ACTUALLY read this until like a week ago. So sorry I haven't been better about posting all the time, sorry it's boring and there aren't many pictures, and I can't wait to see/talk to you all soon!