Untitled
on Um Zayd wa Atheer (Uganda), 08/Mar/2009 12:22, 34 days ago
Hell's Angels?You may recall that Masindi is not the hub of the Universe in any respect. Its transport network is basic, precarious and exhausting. The Post Bus arrives once a day in both directions. The taxi park is the home of wheezing, coughing and belching moribund heaps of metal heading north and east when they have enough passengers. In Masindi my legs learnt to walk, not for pleasure but out of necessity. At least they were reliable, sturdy and built up necessary stamina. They are still going strong.Moving out into the villages was more of a problem. The distances were too far and the going was tough along pot-holed marram 'roads'. During the dry season they were rock hard and during the wet season marram turned to a slippery mud. The Community Department of Masindi Hospital struggles all the time with transport. A road worthy vehicle, driver, fuel or money for fuel became a very unlikely combination on any one-day. My VSO Placement Outline had stated quite clearly 'Not necessary to ride a motorcycle.' It was essential. Community Nurses work in the community and I often had no means of getting there. I could see that a motorcycle was needed.Hence my visit to Hell, in Kidderminster. This is no insult to the people who live there. It is a medium sized Worcestershire town, which has had to re-form itself since the demise of the carpet industry. I have known the complicated Ring Road system for some years as an access route to Mid Wales. Having asked VSO if I could do my motorcycle training I was offered various venues for an approved course. Kidderminster was the nearest. The course was for 5 days and it took some working out to find a way of getting there each day for 9am. I stayed with a friend in central Birmingham and travelled each day by train and bus. It was an enormous effort but I knew how vital it was if I was to have more access to the villages of Miirya.I arrived on Day 1 naïve and optimistic. After all it didn’t look that difficult. The training centre was on the car park of a social club on a trading estate. It was cold and bleak and soon after I met my instructor I began to feel trepidations. Fortunately memories of Day 1 and 2 are fading fast unlike the bruises.These are mainly on my left leg as the 125cc bike fell on top of me as I fell off. The bike seemed heavy and I had no co-ordination between my eyes, hands, feet or brain. The instructor was not impressed and turned out to be a grumpy hypercritical soul. He was certainly no Hell's Angel. Steve and Iparted company at 1.30 on Tuesday.The real Angel and I met at 9am on Wednesday morning. He was kind, patient and determined that I would succeed. We spent the whole day doing manoeuvres, ready for me to go out onto the road on Thursday. We did a housing estate in the morning and Kidderminster town in the afternoon. Traffic lights, roundabouts and junctions all terrified me but it was all a means to an end. Now I can go back to Masindi and travel independently to the villages.On Friday we practised more manoeuvres and Rick tricked me into going around the Ring Road. I wanted to enjoy it but there wasn't enough adrenalin spare. It was all used in 'fright'. By teatime I was holding my certificate of competence. Even that scares me. I cannot imagine every riding a motorcycle here in the UK. It is really scary. I am proud that I had the determination to keep going. I had to for the people of Miirya. Will I ever go back to Kidderminster? At the moment I hope not.