It took another six and a half hours to get to Kigali, including an hour crossing the border going through immigration, but we made it without further incident. I think the poor excuses for roads in Mbarara have been good conditioning for the drive to Kigali because we were driving over roads bumpy enough to send us flying out of our seats and shake our entire insides. The rocking from side to side was anything but soothing.
Uganda is the most beautiful place I've ever lived, and while it was still light out, I was perfectly content to stare out the window and enjoy the breathtaking view. In every direction were green, rolling hills, boys grazing their herds of cattle and goats, and I even saw quite a few crested cranes in the fields.
Everywhere you looked were clothes hung up on lines to dry, men and women working in fields and gardens, people relaxing in doorways and on bodas or listening to the radio while resting on piles or wood or bricks. There was also plenty of amusement to be had in reading the advertisements and signs along the way: "Flesh Milk," "Uncle & Friends Salon," and "Video Libraly."
We finally rolled into the bus station in Kigali around 11pm, about 8 hours later than planned. At that moment a new type of culture shock set in. If I didn't know any better, you could have easily fooled me into thinking that we were actually in an American city! Comparing Mbarara to Kigali is like comparing apples and oranges. It's really hard to do because they're extremely different.
Over the next two days I was completely enchanted and couldn't stop marvelling over the cleanliness and orderliness of the entire city. It was as if we'd jumped forward 30 or 40 years in development. Perfectly paved roads, not a piece of garbage in sight, traffic laws that were obeyed, stop lights and road signs, street lights, and perfectly landscaped traffic circles and green areas.
Instead of the bodas we're used to riding, which are all different and sometimes make me wonder if we're actually going to make it up a hill, the "motos" in Kigali are all standardized and the drivers are required to wear helmets as well as have a helmet for their passenger. Their one passenger. Not their passenger plus a few small children or their passenger plus a bundle of matooke and a mattress. Not their passenger and a suitcase or their passenger and a few chickens. One one person was allowed to ride on each moto, and they had to sit facing forward rather than sidesaddle as most women in Uganda ride.
Some of the highlights of our time there included:
drinking plenty of delicious coffee...
visiting the genocide memorial, reflecting on a not-so-distant and certainly not forgotten event, and contemplating the state of the world and the human heart...
spending time with the Gaskill family, who are serving with AIM, and learning more about their ministry serving at Kigali International Christian School (KICS)...
eating at a beautiful restuarant, aptly named Heaven, where they served us a free appetizer, brought us blankets, and served gourmet-quality food...
and visiting a market where we bought gorgeous fabrics. Walking around the fabric section of the market (Yes, a section. Our market in Mbarara doesn't have sections. Everyone sells everything.) was like experiencing a explosion after explosion of vibrant colors and fantastic patterns. Everything was beautiful, the people were friendly, and I was mesmerized.
Needless to say, it was a wonderful time of exploring a new city and another ministry AIM missionaries are involved with. We made it home in great time without any noteworthy incidents. As wonderful and enchanting as Kigali was, I was grateful to get back to Mbarara, our sweet and charming little town with so much character and friendly, familiar faces.
Like I said, apples and oranges are hard to compare.
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