Throughout the country this system is somewhat limited, and sometimes in Kotido it becomes completely nonexistent. With the recent heavy rains of the wet season the roads leaving Kotido became impassable, making it impossible to leave on the public bus. The air strip just outside the town of Kotido flooded and the small missionary bush plane which flies in every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday could not even land. Even private cars were not driving on the roads for fear of becoming stuck in the deep mud or becoming wedged in the wash outs. I suppose in the States we have our snow storms which leave us house bound, here in Kotido there is rain.
However, during the dry season it is relatively easy to travel from Kotido to Kampala, or anywhere else in the country.
The 104 Km trip to Kampala begins at 2:00 am in Kotido and concludes around 4:00 pm. Most of the journey is on dusty, pot-hole filled road but around six hours into the trip magical pavement appears and the feeling in your bottom slowly replaces the numbness of the previous bumpy hours. The passengers include both people and animals, typically chickens stuffed under the seats squawking in irritation, but somehow there is always room for everyone. Many of my trips have also included a “guest speaker” (a pastor who happens to be traveling and feels the Spirit leading.) I attempt to tune out most of these sermons and watch the landscape slid past me; however, one morning as I was traveling to Kampala the speaker caught my attention.
The minister was speaking about how Jesus rejected the temple and church structures of his time. Jesus overturned the tables in the temple courtyard, refusing to support the oppressive practice sacrifice had become in the Jewish tradition. The pastor said, “Jesus rejected the temple in Jerusalem, but there are many temples he has not rejected; those are the temples of our bodies.”
In a country where transportation is not always reliable, education is sometimes lacking, church denominations rarely function efficiently, and the government is sometime unjust; Uganda is doing some things very well. Why not allow pastors to “feel the Sprit move” on public transportation? Why not challenge passengers to live their lives in a way that glorifies God? After all, aren’t we are all passengers on this journey called life who need to be guided and convicted, regardless of the venue?
A preacher on one of my bus trips
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