Hanging In the Balance

Yesterday I had a frightening reminder of how dangerous road travel is here, and how precariously life is always perched on the edge, needing almost nothing to push it one way or another. On the way over the mountains, we came to a line of vehicles waiting, and we were told that the Kalita (the coach bus that connects Bundibugyo to Kampala) was stuck. Well, not only was it stuck, it was teetering on the edge of a sheer drop, having spun its wheels on one of the muddy corners and slid toward the edge. One back wheel was off the edge, but it had come to rest, tipped at a terrifying angle, perched precariously above a long drop. There were probably about 70-80 people on board, all of whom escaped without injury. Another foot or two to the left, and I doubt any would have survived - it was hard for me to guess where the bus would have stopped rolling.


A sobering thought for me was that I had contemplated taking the bus yesterday. A couple weeks ago, as I considered my travel plans, I thought that Kalita might be a good option. In the end, I opted to hire a car, a decision that I now consider to have been a very, very wise one. But it reminded me how little control I am in and how quickly life can change. The threat of accident or sickness striking at any time is a constant backdrop to everyday life. As recent events all over the world testify, this isn't unique to Bundibugyo or Uganda, but it does seem more obvious here than in many places.