Capacitors, Fried Chicken, and Airplanes

In the last months I have had few quiet mornings. In the last two days, both have been quiet, and the sleep has been good. I feel like I should still be suffering with my sleep since I am about to get home and enjoy good sleep every night. It makes coming home not as sweet when I get comfort just before I arrive home; this is me talking here, I am sure there are plenty of people who would disagree. 

I had some time in the morning to pack my things the way I wanted, and then moved down for breakfast. I took my time at breakfast, as Bosa could not arrive until 9:30am with the car. I had bread with butter and peanut butter, pineapple, scrabbled eggs, potatoes, and coffee. As I ate, I listened to parts of the conversation of the British people siting at the table behind me. I did not catch it all, but what I could tell, they were here on some kind of mission. Robert came in and sat down at my table 15 minutes early. I was happy to see him. It was the first time I had seen him in a month. I offered to buy him breakfast. He obliged and got into the line to fill his plate. We finished eating, packed my things into the car, and left for the orphanage. 

I couldn't loosen the bolts. We need the key.

I had a few things that I wanted to check on when I got to the orphanage. Susan told me that the swings were all broken and if I could manage to repair them it would be wonderful, so I started at the container looking for a tool that might work. I found the organization in the container to be much worse than it was when I saw it last, but that is understandable. There were bags, clothes, tools, materials, ladders, garbage, and some broken things. I think the tendency here is that if something breaks, you have to keep it because maybe; possibly at some point in time, you might need a screw, or part from whatever was broken before. This is when you get the “old man garage” where there are a million screws that you are never going to use that all require a different screwdriver, pieces of plastic that you will never use, old gloves; things that over time become spoiled and just make clutter so that it is harder to find what you need when you actually need it. That has always been my experience in this container. I finally found what I thought would work, and went out to the swings to try and remove the special bolts that connect the swings to the chains. I used all my strength, and loosened the bolts for the first swing. I installed a canvas swing in place of the broken swing, then moved to the next one. As hard as I tried, I could not get it to move and ended up just stripping the bolt with the adjustable-jaw wrench that I found. Not wanting to use all my time at the orphanage on the swings, I went to find my sponsored daughter and leave for Christian Life Church. On the way I was told by one of the Mums there that the pump for the borehole is not working. Now I had another mission. Water is more important. 

This is the spoiled capacitor

I arrived in the pump house and tested the pumps, and of course, the power was out. I left the pump house. I was then told that Mum Berna had left for St. John’s college to pick up some documentation for me to take to the church. “You have to wait until she comes back before you leave”, they said. My plans of spending the day with my sponsored daughters was rapidly slipping away. As we waited, the mums came and told me that the power was back, so again, I went to the pump house to see if I could find the problem. When I arrived, I noticed that inside the electrical panel there was oil all over the place, and there was a capacitor that had fallen to the bottom of the panel. I examined it and decided that this was the problem. It contained oil at one time, and when the capacitor failed, the container ruptured, splattering oil that was once contained inside the capacitor, inside the panel. I disconnected the it and closed the pump house. I then squeezed visiting Davis and Shirtliff to pick up a replacement into my plans for the day.

My sponsored Daughter, Florence

As we waited for Mum Berna, we attempted to repair a weed-eater. When I looked at the clock again, it was 12:30; past lunch. This gave me a sense of urgency, because I had planned on going into Kampala and having lunch with my girls. I decided that I wasn’t going to wait anymore. I didn’t want to wait all day at the orphanage and miss out on time with my girls. I picked up florence from her class, and we drove away. I got a call from Mum Berna telling me to meet her at the Seeta Stage, which is just next to the Ridar Hotel. When we stopped, I did not find Mum Berna, so I took the time to purchase a soda and a Twix for Florence, and a nice cold water for Robert. When I finally found Mum Berna, she handed me the documents, and we were off; heading towards Christian Life Church. Florence was quiet in the back, but it felt good to just be around her. 

We arrived at the church to find that Joan, my other sponsored daughter, was there waiting for us. I loaded her into the car, and gave the documents to the receptionist with instruction to give them to Mum Betty. From there we departed and moved for Davis and Shirtliff. When we got there, we were met by a technician who recognized the capacitor that I had in my hand. I told him that we needed to replace it. He took hold of it and examined it. I asked him if he noticed anything about it that was not correct. He said, "yes, the seal is broken, meaning that the capacitor is spoiled." I very discreetly gave myself a fist pump. He said that it would cost 100,000 shillings ($38) to replace it. Knowing I was getting taken, I had no choice. If I didn’t pay the money, I wouldn’t get the part, and the children would not have water. So I told him to get the part and I would pay for it. He told me it would take 10 minutes to get it, and left. When he returned 30 minutes later he told me that the location they get buy this part from would not give him the part without the cash, so I took his phone number, handed him the money. Then he disappeared again. Robert and I stood in the shade and talked about vehicles for the next 30 minutes and then the technician returned again with a new part. We went inside the building, had them test it, and write me a receipt. We then loaded up, and headed out to the store so that I could buy the girls some school supplies. 

We first went and got something to eat at “Mr. Tasty’s”. It is a fried chicken place just next to the store. I told the girls to tell me what they wanted, and having never done this, they ordered the family packs that were the most expensive on the menu. I looked in amazement at them, and then asked, “What do you think about ‘number 2’; It has everything that you want.” They agreed, so they both got fried chicken and chips while Robert and I both got a burger and chips. We placed the left over food in the car, and moved to the Store. 

Waiting for the Capacitor at
Davis and Shirtliff

I felt a little overwhelmed in the store with two girls who had not been to a store like this before. They kept telling me, “There are many whites here.” I had a list of things that I wanted to make sure they had, and then some things that they could use with their friends. Joan wanted to push the shopping cart, but was not so good at it; not watching where she was going. She kept nearly running into people. It did not help that the aisles were narrow.  The shopping cart filled fast with pillows, shoes, towels, soaps, and various other things. I wanted to be very careful. I did not want them to think that this was the time to get whatever they wanted, but the things that they were needing for school. I kept whispering to God, “Don’t let me spoil them, don’t let me spoil them.”

We finished our shopping and it was time to head back, as the time was nearly 5:00pm. Robert kept reminding me of the time. If I wanted to do all the things on my list, getting to the airport on time would be difficult; my flight departed at 12:45am. We took Joan back to the church just past 5. Because St. Lawrence College will not allow anyone inside after 5:00pm, she was going to be forced to spend the night at the church. I was surprised at this, yet to them it was no big deal. “She has her pillow, so she will be fine, they said. After I said my goodbye, I told her that I loved her, then left to take Florence back to the orphanage. We arrived there at nearly 8. I had little to no time to replace the conductor before we needed to leave for the airport. It was going to take 2 to 3 hours to get there, Robert told me. Quickly I went to the pump house, installed the new capacitor and turned it on to hear the sound of flowing water into the tanks; another fist pump. I went to look at the water flowing, when suddenly the water stopped. I was puzzled. There was something else that was wrong. The panel had overloaded and tripped the breaker again. Looking at the time, I knew that I was already behind schedule. I had to go. We locked up the pump house, and moved to the car, said more goodbyes, and drove into the darkness.

On the way to the airport, we took many back roads due to the traffic, and managed to save a little time. I called Mum Betty on the way and told her that the problem was not fixed with the water, and would require a technician from Davis and Shirtliff to come out, diagnose, and fix the problem. I am thinking it is going to be difficult for them. Many of the pipes coming into the pump house are unlabeled, so knowing which one contains the borehole water will require someone to be there with knowledge. I told Robert how much I appreciated him driving me and how much I enjoy being around him. I told him that have never been disappointed with his driving. I have driven with enough other people in Uganda to really respect the way that Robert drives and trust him with my life when I am in his car. He was very happy that I wanted to spend time with him and for him to be my driver. He drives me in Bosa’s car since he has only a bus, and gave everything I paid him to Bosa. He said that he didn't want to be paid to drive me. We had some fun on the way back. Robert told me that Bosa does not maintain his vehicle well. I could hear the jolts in the suspension at every bump, the lights for the floorboards flickered at every bump, and at one point the engine over-heated and we had to pull over at a gas station to pay a technician to fill the radiator with water. I could not help but be amused, and thankful that it was not my car. 

Bosa's over-heating, and under-maintained car.

We finally arrived at the airport with just over two hours before my flight departed. Feeling blessed with time, I opened my bag, and shifted some things. I removed the things I did not need from my backpack, and added things that I would need on the flight. I said goodbye to Robert and wheeled my check-in bag up the ramp to the departure desks. I was met at the door by a guard asking me where I was going. “Amsterdam”, I told him. He looked to the side, and very casually waved me on. I moved through the security checkpoint, and of course, and to open my bag for them. There is a bag of chargers, memory cards, USB drives, and electronic devices that must look very suspicious. I anticipate many stops on my way home. I walked to the KLM desk and was then asked by a man standing there, “Which flight are you on?” I told him, “Amsterdam.” He then told me, “The cut off for passengers to Amsterdam was here”, as he pointed to the back of the man in front of me. He said, “You need to go upstairs to booking and ‘re-book’ your flight.” I looked at him and said, “Are you kidding me?! I am here two hours early.” He said, “Your flight leaves at 11:30. You should have been here two hours ago.” I thought this was ridiculous and tried to convince him to just let me in line and I could run to the plane. He refused. Frustrated, I walked away from the check-in counters, off to find the booking office.

I sat at the the booking desk with my legs crossed and waited as the man behind the desk told me that I was very late. He said, “...and it is going to cost you money!”, stretching the ‘o’; emphasizing the word. I told him I didn’t understand how I was late if my itinerary said 12:45am. He asked to see my itinerary, surprised that it would say that. I didn’t have it printed, so I took my computer out and searched for a wifi signal. I scanned through my email and found the Delta email with my tickets and opened it. I took in a nice deep breath and sighed. I said, “You are right. It says 11:30pm, I don’t know what I was thinking.” He started to count up the fees and gave me the final number, $300. I asked, “Can I pay you in Shillings?” 

“Yes, of course”, he said. “What were you doing here in Uganda?”

“I am a missionary. I built a 300m wall around an orphanage in Lira.”

He looked at me and paused. He said, “Because I am in a good mood I am going to remove this $50 fee that I am supposed to charge you. I am being very kind.” I thanked him and started to count what I had left in shillings, exceeding the amount by very little. He rebooked me on a direct flight; Uganda to Amsterdam, Amsterdam to Portland. This was very kind. As a booking agent, you have the opportunity to stick it to people by giving them many, long layovers. He asked me if I know where I am going to stay the night, and I asked him if I am supposed to call a hotel. He asked me how much I wanted to spend. I told him, “as little as possible.” He said, “I know a place. $50 dollars a night; very affordable.”

“Ill take it.” 

“Ill call the shuttle to come and pick you up. It is the ‘Central Inn Express’, I told them to look for the man in the green top.”

“Thank you”, I said. 

As I stood and waited for the shuttle, several taxi drivers crowded me asking me if I had someone picking me from the airport. I told them all I had one. They would then say, “If they do not come, I drive you? You let me know, I give you my number, you call me.” I thanked them all, and stood leaning against a pole; waiting. 

The booking agent soon appeared out of the crowd of taxi drivers and told me that the hotel finished their shuttle run. “They do 1 shuttle every night, and it is finished.” He motioned another man over named Sam. “This is a driver; a good man, he can take you to the hotel.” I asked, “How much?” He said, “Twenty-five thousand.” I started to barter, when they told me that the taxi drivers usually charge fifty. The booking agent told me that he informed sam of my situation, and he agreed to do it for twenty five. 

I was at the point where I didn’t really care what happened next, I was just ready to go to bed; almost slap-happy. We arrived at the Central Inn Express. Sam unloaded my bag, and wheeled it into the front of the hotel for me. Thousands of lake flies clung to the light that illuminated the white wall behind the desk. They would move every so often when a little breeze would wrench their grip from the wall. The girl behind the desk greeted me and checked me in. She was in a good mood, which seemed to lift my spirits as well. I actually go to laugh a few times at the counter. She informed me that it was $50 dollars per night, and they charge on check-in. I asked her if I could pay in shillings, and of course, yes. I took out my wrinkled little white envelope, riddled with scribbles and math calculations. I took out the bills and started to count. I needed to reach 130,000 shillings. After I counted everything up, I had 125,500. I chuckled and looked at her. She looked at me and smiled, “I think you mis-counted.” She took the bills and counted. I had 127,500, but I was still 2,500 shillings short. We both had to laugh. I remembered I had some euros left from my last trip in Italy. I asked, “Do you take Euros?”

“Yes we take them.” 

I took out a more crisp envelope from my passport case and removed a fifty. “How much in Euros”, I asked her, holding the money.

“Forty-five” 

I handed her the fifty and she searched her drawer for change. All she could find was a ten. She asked me if I had a five for change for the ten. All I had was 10. I smiled and looked down, nodding, knowing that I now had to open my check-in bag on the floor at the reception desk and search for a book containing US dollars. This was what I had been trying to avoid. I found the $50 dollar bill and handed it to her. She scribbled out the shillings and the euros from the receipt and added a new currency. She asked, “Why do you have so many types of money?” 

“I go many places. Perhaps next time we can try something different?”

“Perhaps you can give me some sudanese dollars next time.” 

I chuckled again, and told her, “You never know.” I walked up the stairs to my new room, and started plugging all my electronic devices into the wall. I looked at the mosquito net that was coiled up hanging from the ceiling above the bed and stepped up to untie it. I began to tuck it in all around the mattress. I noticed that the net was too high and would not reach the bed in some places. I tried to force it; stretching it under the mattress when I heard the pop. The whole thing came down from the ceiling. I stood and looked at it for a second, motionless, then started to repair. If you don’t have a mosquito net here, you probably wont sleep all that well. The net was actually turned inside out, so I was able to correct that and add some length to the string. Now that it was fixed, I tucked it in. I thought, “This is good. I have a bed, a shower, and I don’t have to wake up early tomorrow.” I took my shower, brushed my teeth, and hopped into bed.