Waiting

Waiting for wifi to connect

Waiting for photos to upload

Waiting for wood to be cut

Waiting for treatment at the clinic

Waiting porridge to be hot

There are all different kinds of waiting in Uganda. Most of the waiting could actually be much worse. Often we are pleasantly surprised at how swiftly things move (except for the wifi, that takes forever). Yesterday, I found it particularly interesting to wait at the passport office. What initially might seem unorganized and chaotic you quickly realized was quite the opposite. Everything takes place outside under a tent (made from lots of smaller tents). There are rows of benches all facing different directions. Most people seem to have a very serious look on their face.

We ran into another American family there and collectively we took a guess and sat on a set of wooden benches facing a large wooden desk that seemed to have the most space. We were quickly approached and told to sit elsewhere. Now we were sitting on a set of metal benches that face out toward the open air. A large woman in a nice dress was yelling at everyone to go pick up their passports from another tent. She seemed to be mad at everyone except us. Hopefully this meant we were now sitting in the right place.

Meanwhile, Issac was hungry for a snack so I sent him with Bill to eat outside the tent (he makes quite a mess). A few moments later they were back. It was insulting to the officers that they were standing outside the tent. "It looks likes we didn't offer you a seat." Bill explained that we simply did not want to make a mess in their tent. "We have cleaners for that, you go sit." So we sat.

A representative from our lawyers office arrived a while later and kept disappearing with our file.

Eventually he came back with a pink folder and a pink card and instructed us to go sit back on the wooden benches. It turns out that this particular set of benches is not seating at all, but an organized line that moves very swiftly toward the large wooden desk. At the desk sits another woman in a nice dress with a very large stamp. Each time you hear the stamp everyone slides down the bench and it's the next persons turn. If you don't start moving quickly enough you'll find someone shoving you along in the right direction.

In the end we received our giant stamp on our file after answering a few simple questions like

"Are you married? Where is the child? Where do you live? etc."

Hashim, our legal representative, said he would remain behind with our file to make sure it continued along the proper path. We were no longer needed. We were told to expect a call soon.

And that was it, we left the maze of benches and the white tent behind and took the kids swimming in Lake Victoria (the source of the Nile River). It was a very pleasant day.