The Longgggg Bus Ride To Bumala

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What's That On Your Shoes, Heather?

It’s 6:00am, and we are scrambling to get out of bed and into the shower. Everyone has their own version of early morning grogginess, but no excuses are accepted as we trudge our way down to the breakfast buffet. Time was short so all we could do was grab a handfull of bun and cheese sandwiches. Our driver Joseph is waiting and we pile into the van with dulled eyes, hungry bellies and 300 pounds of overweight luggage.

The bus depot was an interesting mix of women, children, business people, students, grandmothers,….all looking to make the same trek as us over the long bumpy roads to Busia (Ugandan border). We had organised three seats together in the 2nd row, but it was the luggage weight which worried me. “Ten shillings per extra kilogram” was the price quoted to me two days earlier. We were at least 150 kilograms over, and I wasn’t looking forward to paying the extra fees.

We went over to the weigh station where I weighed the baggage. Yes, a good 150 kilograms over. They told me to go to the front desk in another building and simply tell them the amount over-weight. I thought that was quite trusting of them, but that is Kenya. It was obvious that no one in the weighing station was going to move off their chairs to walk over to the other building. Furthermore, wasting a piece of paper on recording such an abominable infraction on our part seemed unneccesary, for whatever reason. I went back to the main building and reported to the front desk. Two young ladies sat lazilly behind the counter, chatting about the coming weekend, or boyfriends, or some such thing. My driver Joseph had joined me at that time and we started to chat to the girls at the same instance - me in English, and he in Swahili. They seemed to be paying more attention to him, than I. I tried to explain to them about the fact that I was taking the extra luggage as items for the orphan school. Joseph was going on about something else which I did not fully understand, but I think he had joined in with them in talking about things to do on the weekend. He was definitely making more impact (and progress) than I was. Finally, the one girl looked up at me, a little distracted, and told me to just load my suitcases on the bus and get on. No argument here! We were on the bus and the 7:00am Express for Busia left on time at 7:15am (all things in Africa occur later than advertised).

The bus ride was quite an adventure! Ten hours of adventure, that is!!

Have you ever stepped into the men’s bathroom at the Easy Rider Truck Stop on Highway 59 between Nashville and the Missouri Crossing, on a Saturday night? If you have, then you have visited a luxury bathroom compared to the bathrooms at the Kericho Easy Coach bus stop in west central Kenya. Heather found out exactly what it means to confront your worst nightmares, and bring them back to the bus with you stuck to the bottom of your sandals. Yes folks, need I say more?

Anyway, 5 hours later, and half a can of purell hand sanitizer, and we are standing in front of the Bumala Western Ambience Hotel. Stepping off the bus, the sights, sounds and smells of Bumala assault the senses. We work our way ourside to the back of the bus, while we are crowded by local porters manning handcrafted wooden makeshift wheelbarrows jockying for position to carry our bags literally 40 feet across the road. I had to “firmly” express my desire to handle our own bags before they would surrender their firm grip on our attention. We dragged our bags as quickly as we could across the road and entered into the safe haven of the inner courtyard of the hotel complex. Home at last!

We got into the hotel to immediately find that the elevator was “not functioning” - another generous feature of Africa. A few hotel porters gathered around our bags and eyed them up as we all headed for the stairs leading up to the second story check-in desk. Measuring half my size, the small Kenyan men laboured relentlessly with the massively overweight bags that we had brought along for the orphans. The girls made more progress than the porters, although you could see that the porters were struggling for all their might to achive this task in as effortlessly-appearing way as possible.

A quick check-in and we were on our way again up another flight to the third floor where our rooms were located. A quick shower for the weary souls, and we went back down to the second floor restaurant and a needed meal.

All signals are go and we are expected to show up on the school grounds at 9:00am sharp! The anticipation is palpable.

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