A Solid Three-And-A-Half

Being Sunday, our team got its fill of potatoes and onions for breakfast and headed to church; this time Watoto Gulu. As we approached the modern-looking church building, people were being  filed through the airport-like metal detector and zapped all over with a wand by the watchful security guard. I saw more than one person set the machine off and get a frisking. Fearing the 29 of us would have to perform the same rigorous screening and miss the entire service, Fred hopped off the bus to try and negotiate a waiver for us. Adrian told everyone to leave their guns on the bus and Josh agreed we probably only needed to take in the grenades. 

The building, we soon discovered, was just for the kids and the actual church service was to be held in a huge white tent. We were treated with a singing/dancing show extraordinaire, the choir outfitted in the most gorgeous, colourful and vibrant African prints around. They swayed in unison and clapped up a storm. This week marks 57 years of independence for Uganda so the congregation got quite patriotic, belting out a sweet a cappella rendition of their national anthem with a rousing talk about hope for a better future for their country, so deeply rooted in corruption, with a chequered history of human rights abuse. We’d come on the right day too, as they were celebrating people over 40, said to be in their “golden years”. All the golden oldies, ie. anyone over the tender age of 40, had to stand up and be appreciated with a hearty round of applause from the rest of the whipper-snappers in the room. Nice to be appreciated and nice to be golden. 

Our trusty guides Fred and Stephen had organised for us to go to a little cafe for lunch. How nice. We’d sip on lattes together, perhaps indulge in a sandwich or two and a nice piece of cake. Well, that’s not exactly how it unfolded as we lunched at the World’s Worst Restaurant. The “Inspiration Cafe” couldn’t have been less inspiring if it tried.  Fred had phoned ahead to warn of the impending arrival of 29 hungry Muzungas, giving them a bit of a heads up. Their preparation for the onslaught it seems, was limited to pushing together a couple of tables. The fact that they had no food, no change, no menus (and no idea) not really addressed in the lead up to our arrival. 

When I say “no menus”, I lie. They did have two. Two menus for 30-odd people. It took us half an hour to even catch sight of what was on offer. The waitresses employed a scatter gun approach to taking orders, never writing anything down and missing multiple people in the process. I ordered a couple of chocolate milkshakes but she surprised us by delivering strawberry. Jeanette and Peter ordered the avocado, cheese and beef burgers, the appetising picture on the menu boasting 180g juicy beef patties. They were surprised to lift the lids on their beef burgers to find the avocado and cheese was there but the beef was missing in action. After a substantial wait, the beef (read, hunk of weird gristly meat) was restored to its rightful place. Rachel and Becca had requested a pizza but were initially told there was none. The waitress then re-thought her reply and conceded ambiguously that well, they could make a pizza but it would take “a very long time”. Knowing we had planned to sit for a while, the girls agreed to go ahead and order the long-haul option. Two and a bit hours later, the girls so hungry they were ready to eat their serviettes, the waitress decided there really wasn’t any pizza after all. The meals and coffees arrived in a few waves over the two-hour-plus period but Lexi’s pasta arrived right as we were getting ready to leave, as did Mike’s “club sandwich” that he rated “a solid three and a half” out of ten. Poor Jacob only wanted cake but despite there being quite a delectable selection of sweet treats advertised on the menu, he was told that they were all out. Oh well, I guess it serves him right for wanting to have his cake and eat it too. 

Leaving the less than inspiring Inspire Cafe behind, vowing never to return, we detoured to the supermarket for some actual sustenance before one last trip to Baby Watoto. The builders that had skipped seeing the babies for most of the week, finally got to lay eyes on the small ones we’d gushed over for days. It was so great to say a proper goodbye to the wonderful ladies we’d met and to give those bundles of joy one last squeeze. The Maddens, McLeans and Nabbs all decided to sponsor the babies they’d fallen in love with and they bonded over mushy vegetables and milk and lots of happy snaps to remember them by.

The Janet/Rose plot took a bit of a turn today, with a twist in the story we’d never have predicted. It seems Janet was not just a random girl caught up in the plot, she was actually Becca’s sponsor child. That afternoon, however, while Janet a.k.a Rose, was hanging out with Jeanette and Peter, Becca was meeting a different Janet, told that SHE was in fact her sponsor child and lavishing her with gifts. It was only later that the mix-up was uncovered and Becca was reunited with the original and correct Janet, her rightful sponsor child. Janet spent the day with Becca and the team today so it was a happy ending to a crazy story. 

Our last evening at our Gulu hotel was spent laughing, chatting and dining together outside in the warm African evening. Feeling like we have known each other for years, we are all getting on like a house on fire. Tomorrow morning we hit the road for Murchison Falls!

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