Gulu on Sunday

Sunday morning we were ready to go to Gulu at 9:30. Seydou, another FH employee, had offered to drive us out, so he was also ready to go. However, our show could not get on the road because one of the guards decided to wash the Land Rover before we took it out. I asked Pius why he needed to clean it, and Pius said "It's a good practice to start a journey with a clean vehicle". Fair enough. We left at 10:15 for the two hour drive to Gulu. When we passes the sign that said "Gule- 85 KM", Tim had a little moment when he realized that it was going to be a long ride. I think he spaced out the "two hour drive" part of our discussion on taking the trip. Halfway through the drive I was starting to wish we hadn't gone. You have no idea just how bumpy roads can be until you experience this!

When we got to Gulu we drove around trying to find a restaurant that serves pizza. We found this really cool place called Kope Cafe. All of the profits from the cafe are donated to an organization that helps the children there. Inside, the walls were painted with murals of Africa landscapes. It was a really cool environment. We got our pizza and it wasn't at all what we were longing for. The sauce was mixed with curry, which could have been a good combination, but it wasn't. Oh well. We spent a few hours eating and talking. It was nice to get out of our normal setting.

My purpose for visiting Gulu was to try to find the One Mango Tree workshop. The lady who started the organization had told me a few weeks ago how to find Cafe Larem, where I could ask for directions to the workshop. When we got to the cafe, they were selling crafts from the workshop, but had no idea where it was. We got a number to call, and a lady told us how to get there, but since it was Sunday, there was nobody there working or able to let us in and show us around. Frustrating, but I should have anticipated that Sunday is not the best day to visit a workshop.

We walked around the market in Gulu and I bought myself a big rolling suitcase. I already nearly broke my back carrying my stuff to Africa, I would rather be able to roll my souvenirs home. I keep kicking myself when I remember packing for Africa and refusing to bring a rolling suitcase because I wanted to say I just brought a duffel bag. Dumb idea, but easily resolved by going to the market and buying a cheap suitcase with somebody else's name still written on it.

We drove home and I went online for a bit and then finished typing the registration forms for Monday morning.