Not my problem!

On Thursday I headed over to our clinic in South Sudan.  It’s a long as it takes about 3 hours to get there, allowing for faff at the border.  So Wednesday night I asked the others what time should we leave.  “Early”, I was told.  “Let us say 8… no 8.30, we shall leave at 8.30”.  Not exactly early, know this would be subject to the “Africa Time” correction (delay).  We left at 9.15.

In 2023, we were given a derelict building, housing goats!  Now look at it!

It was a great day, fantastic to see my friends again, and make some new ones, as we have expanded since I was last there, 16 months ago.  Just before the border, we stopped for fuel, so I picked up some pineapples and an enormous watermelon, to supplement lunch.  Which was ideal as it was posho and meat (mainly bones and gristle if I am honest).  I never take meat (or fish): and I’m not just being precious about the quality and hygiene (my system is used to that nowadays).  I have weight to lose, they don’t, and I don’t need the calories – they absolutely do.  But it’s the posho; to the untrained eye it looks like mashed potato, so you could be seduced.  But it has little, if any taste, a firm texture and it doesn’t soften in the mouth.  You just swallow it.  Yuck.  Believe it or not rice has a much more appealing texture and (relatively) flavour.

As usual, the staff took the opportunity to identify their needs.  But that’s why I am there; it is good sometimes to know why they ask for things and see the challenges they face.  So my notebook got plenty of use.

As we headed back, I knew I’d face the usual BS at the border back into Uganda.  Crossing into South Sudan is very straightforward for me these days as I have a really good rapport with the immigration officers, who have been the same three blokes since my first visit in 2022.  But on the Uganda side (a) they rotate regularly so it’s not possible to build a relationship, and (b) they are all complete… Due to earlier issues with online Uganda Immigration Office I only have a ‘single entry’ visa, which had now ‘been used’.  So after an age the lady said to me, “There is a problem, you need a visa”.  “Sure”, I replied.  “How much? I asked, expecting $50 USD, which was right.  I then continued, “I am coming back to South Sudan next week, this same journey…” and before I could get into the ‘so can I get a multiple entry visa?’ part of my statement, she cut me off, “Not my problem”.  

Right, OK then.  Same old shit, different day.