Q: How Many Vehicles Does it Take to Get to Sudan?

A: 6.

The idea for our latest adventure came from someone in Gulu who told us that we could get across the border for 7000 UGX without our passports (since we are treated like Kindergarteners on this program and not allowed to have any of our things, passports included). The border of South Sudan is about 100 kms from Gulu, and it just recently opened up since we’ve been here due to increased security in the region. On Saturday, the majority of the group tried and succeeded in getting across and going to the market, but Hannah and I couldn’t go because we had to train the kids at HEALS Play Therapy in Gymnastics.

So on Sunday morning, Hannah and I set off to the Gulu taxi park to find a bus or taxi that would take us to Sudan. We found the sign labeled “Sudan” and climbed in a taxi that looked like it was about to break down. It being our only option, we decided to go for it. This was vehicle #1. Over the next 30 minutes, the conductor proceeded to cram 16 people in the back of the vehicle – 4 people in each row – so that he didn’t even have anywhere to sit and he had to sit on the lap of one of the passengers! Around 10:30 we finally got moving toward Gulu, after some initial trouble getting the door to close without it completely falling off the car. We traveled for around 15 minutes, until we stopped in Lacor and the driver got out, went away to buy something, and then somehow boda-ed back 15 minutes later. Again, we were on the road.

45 more minutes down the road, the taxi stopped and the driver got out to check the engine. Not surprisingly, something was wrong with the car. 2 of the women got out and started “footing it” to the next town, but we decided to stay in the taxi and wait. We got the engine fixed enough to reach the next town, where we met the women who had footed ahead of us, and we proceeded to stop for another 30 minutes to buy sugar cane and sim-sim balls and biscuits while flies swarmed inside the taxi. On the road again, we went.

Another 45 minutes later, we stopped again, and almost everyone got out of the taxi. This time, it didn’t appear the taxi would be fixed any time soon. Tired and restless, Hannah and I got out and decided to just try to hitch a ride back to Gulu and call it a day. Instead, the Israelis who had been sitting behind us in the taxi flagged down a UN land cruiser and invited us to join them riding to the border. So we hopped in the back of the UN land cruiser, along with the 3 Israelis, a Sudanese man heading back home, and a woman and her baby who we found sitting in the vehicle already. On to vehicle #2. The Sudanese man turned out to be very nice, and we chatted with him about his travels, his studies, and the state of the world. He tried to chat with the other Israeli sitting in back with us, but he was a real tool and we were happy for the most part that he kept his mouth shut. Without any more troubles, we reached the border.

From there, we proceeded to the immigration officer, who remembered our “colleagues” from the day before and said that there would be no problem getting across but that the buses going back to Gulu for the day were over. Really wanting to get to Sudan, Hannah and I agreed that we could find anyway to get back, and the officer agreed. He then wrote us a little note saying that we could cross for a few hours without our passports, stamped it, and then bargained for us to ride together on a boda through the 15 kms of no man’s land to the Sudanese border. Vehicle #3. We boda-ed with our new Sudenese friend, Peter, leading the way, and when we reached the border, he lead us to the immigration office, where he proceeded to greet all of his old friends while we waited for the officer to come back from lunch. He pulled up in this nice State car, took a look at our notes, gave us the go ahead, and then our friend shuffled us into the back of the State car to drive us up to the market we wanted to go to. Vehicle #4!

Peter spent a total of 20 minutes showing us around the market – if you’ve seen one market in Uganda, you’ve pretty much seen any market in East Africa – and then we climbed back in the car and headed back to the border! We stopped to take a giant soda, which we intended to pay for Peter but instead he paid for all of us. Upon reaching the border, we agreed that we could just hop on any vehicle going to Gulu, so they flagged down the next truck passing through the border, talked to the drivers for a bit until they happily agreed to let Hannah and I ride with them up to Gulu for no charge. We bid goodbye to our new friend Peter and climbed up into the truck. You might think this would be our last vehicle, but it was only #5. Just wait.

When we reached the Ugandan border, we met up with our friend Mr. Daniel the immigration officer and he wished us a safe journey. From there, we sat in the truck for over 45 minutes while our Kenyan truck drivers tried to bargain with the money sellers about the exchange rate from Sudanese pounds to Ugandan shillings, thinking they were getting ripped off, while the whole time we knew that they weren’t. FINALLY, we were on our way back home. Or so we thought.

Every 20 minutes, our truck kept stopping and the driver would get out and pour water into the engine and then we would continue on. After about an hour of this, they stopped and really looked at the engine, only to discover that the hose pipe was detached and that it was really very dangerous to keep going. They were sure they were going to fix it, so we waited for about 30 minutes while they called men from the community to come and lift up the entire front part of the truck. As it was reaching 5:30, Hannah and I thought it would be best to try to flag down another truck to take us up to Gulu. Luckily, one stopped just behind ours to pick up some charcoal, and with some convincing on our end that it was not illegal for him to carry us, we hopped in. Finally, we sped along to Gulu with this chatty man who had been on the road for 29 days picking up supplies for his boss’s forex bureau – counter in Kenya, cabinets in Tanzania, butter in Malawi, milk in Rwanda, again butter in Sudan…yeah, don’t ask why you need butter and milk to build a forex bureau. He had slept 7 nights out of the 29, so he was pretty much legally insane. We sat and listened to him talk for the next 2 hours, after which we reached Gulu very safely, paid him 10,000 for gas, and breathed a sigh of relief that our adventure was over. 6 vehicles later, we had arrived home in Gulu once again.

Lesson of the day: at the end of the day, the journey is more important than the place you are going!