Today I travelled from Entebbe, Uganda, to Bujumbura, Burundi. My flight was at 4pm, but I said that I needed to be at the airport by 12 so that I would not have to rush, and also to allow for “African Time” and for any hold-ups along the way. David had said that to be there by 12, we would need to leave at 9. Amazingly, we were out the door at 9!
That good start didn’t last long, however, as when we got into the car we discovered a flat tyre, which of course needed to be fixed before we could start off. About 20 minutes later we actually set off.
Once we got out of the local area, the roads were very good, and “African Time” actually worked in reverse for once, with us arriving at the airport at 10.30. So when I tried to go through the first security point, I was told that I would have to wait till 12. So I sat and played video games on my phone for the next hour and a half.
At 12 I again tried to join the line for the security screening. No, I was too early. I would have to wait till 1. I took the next 30 minutes or so finishing off my daily Bible reading, then I noticed that there was a little food stall in the waiting area, so I wandered over to check it out. They had samosas, so I bought a couple for lunch. Yummy! Some of the best samosas I have tasted. I went back for seconds, and a soda to go with them. By then it was 1, and I was finally able to go through the first security point.
There were no dramas with check-in, but I need to watch the weight of my bag, which came in at 23.5 kg. Not a problem for this trip, as I had a very generous 46 kg allowance, and I think the rest of my flights in Africa are similar, but when it comes to going home I know the Qantas allowance is only 23 kg.
After check-in another security point. Shoes off, watch off, lap-top out of the case. What I don’t understand is, when you have done all this on the way in, and you have been in a secure area where there is no possibility of bringing in anything new from outside even if you wanted to, why is this second check even necessary?
Found the departure gate and waited. Boarding was supposed to be at 3, but actually got going at nearly 4. When I came out of the departure lounge, I was confronted by three huge flights of stairs going down, and no other option to get there. I think I said aloud, “You’ve gotta be kidding!” Then a young lass came up beside me and offered to help, taking my bag while I slowly negotiated the steps holding the rail.
Coming out of the terminal was another shock. A massive hike to the plane – at least 500 metres. Again, You gotta be kidding! This airport has absolutely zero respect for elderly people. My helper walked with me, but I had to stop multiple times. However, it was a God-encounter. She is actually running a ministry to children and women, and wants to link in to the network.
Once I had actually reached the plane and hauled myself up the steps, the experience was quite pleasant. One of the flight attendants quickly brought me a bottle of water, and I settled in. It was a small plane, just two seats either side of a central aisle, and they were “not-so-squeezy” seats with plenty of leg room. The flight itself was only about 50 minutes, and there was quite a bit of turbulence, but it didn’t really bother me. The crew did manage to serve a snack of a sandwich (beef, chicken or something else) and a drink – I chose the chicken sandwich, but it was bright yellow and tasted nothing like chicken. Never mind, I had had my samosas at the airport, so was not at all hungry.
I had been a little concerned about how complicated the visa on arrival process would be at the airport, but as I was walking in a young man in a suit came up to me and asked, “Are you the reverend pastor from Australia?” When I told him I was, he took over. He asked for my passport and took out his phone and completed the application online, then went to the counter and sorted it all out while I sat waiting for him. Easy peasy! Then after we picked up my bag he again had me sit and wait while he took it through security. It felt like I was being treated like some kind of royalty.
Pastor Domitien was waiting for us outside. Praise God, a normal car! I didn’t have to haul myself up into a 4WD. He took me to see Lake Tanganika before bringing me to the place where I am staying. It is currently overflowing as a result of water coming in from the floods in Kenya and other regions.
Bujumbura is a beautiful city, with trees everywhere. Most of the roads are great, the back roads have some potholes but nothing like the goat tracks in Uganda. One interesting aspect is that they drive on the right-hand side of the road, but most of the cars appear to be right-hand drive, which must make driving even more challenging.
I have a whole cottage! With an indoor western toilet! And a real shower! After bucket baths for the last month (except for brief periods in hotels in Iganga and Paidah) I feel clean at last. It even has hot water if I wanted it, but I love my cold showers. I think it is a kind of AirBNB situation, and at around $25 Aussie a day it is a real bargain.
Pastor Domitien took some time talking to me about his work and his family, and showing me photos. He does not have anything planned at this stage, but was waiting to meet me to find out what I want to do.
Later in the evening his two daughters came to stay in the second bedroom of the cottage to keep me company and look after me.
So far the experience of Burundi has bee so totally different from Uganda, it’s amazing.