“Eh, you will get used!” It’s a refrain I, and many Peace
Corps Volunteers here, have heard time and time again from our Ugandan friends.
Whether it’s the sun, the food, or the incredibly subtle facial expressions,
we’ve all been waiting until we are “used.”
It’s almost two years in now, and I finally feel like I have
(mostly) learned the rules, know how to play the game, and can finally tell
when someone is saying yes with their eyebrows. I get what’s going on around me
now, especially when it comes to public transportation, and it’s actually a
really great feeling.
Last week, I hopped off of a matatu at the Mbarara bus park,
ready to head to Kampala. There weren’t any buses from my preferred bus line,
Global, around yet, so I headed to the waiting area. I wound my way into the
group of wooden benches covered by a plastic tarp, stepping over bags and
chickens trussed up for the journey. Pushing my way in to a seat in the middle,
I waved my money in the air, just like everybody else, desperate for the ticket
seller’s attention. It was a crazy day for travel – the bus park was jammed to
the brim and people were paying full price for all the way to Kampala, even if
they were planning on getting off halfway, just to get a seat. After I got my
ticket, one of the last available for the next trip out, I left the seating
area and stood over where I estimated the bus was going to arrive. The sun was
beating down, my shoulders were aching from carrying my backpack, and there was
a speaker blasting right behind me, but I was going to get a window seat, damn
it.
After about a half hour of waiting, a Global conductor – one
of the many men and women swarming around in yellow Global lab coats – signaled
for everyone to form a line; the next bus was arriving. I dashed into the wave
of people swarming for the point in front of the conductor’s hand. The line was
starting not far from where I had guessed it would and I could practically feel
the breeze on my face from the window, taste the roasted maize that I would buy
out of it for my lunch. I held out my arms and continued to push forward,
elbowing away people who were trying to dodge ahead of me and taking full
advantage of the extra heft my backpack gave me. As the fervor died down and
the queue settled in, I stood not far from the beginning of the line with my
body pressed up against the woman in front of me and with the person behind me
directly up against my bag. The line had become almost a singular entity with
not a millimeter of space between anyone in it for, as we all knew, even the
smallest amount of space in the line would be tantamount to an invitation for
another person to try and squeeze in.
As I watched the Global bus unload its previous cargo and
passengers and waited for it to move forward, I leaned on the strange woman in
front of me with not a thought for my personal space and realized, with some
surprise, that it all felt completely normal. In fact, sandwiched in my prized
spot in line, I was actually calm and comfortable – and a little smug too.
Yeah, I’m “getting used.”
"Happiness comes from...some curious adjustment to life."
- Hugh Walpole, Sr.
