#TennisAid: the arrival in Uganda
We’re heading to the airport of Barcelona, arrive well in time, we check in, wait in the departure lounge. Suddenly I realize that I forgot one of the two backpacks we’re allowed to take with us on the plane. I run through security controls and get it back.
We leave towards London. A 3-hour stop at Heathrow and then a 7-hour flight to Uganda.
After getting off the plane and passing health checks, we go through visa control where we have to play €40 each.
In all the many tips I have made in my life, a customs officer had never talked to me with such kindness and humor:
Customs officer: Spain? What’s good in Spain?
Customs officer: but Barcelona is really in Spain or not in Spain? (with an ironic look)
We collect our luggage and go without showing our certificate of donation we had dealt with the Ugandan Consulate in Badalona to avoid being charged a fee for introducing material into the country.
Our friends receive us with effusive hugs and warm welcome. We get into two cars and start the journey: about 45 minutes from Entebbe to Kampala.
First impression: the atmosphere is relaxed, many people in the streets (it’s Saturday night), traffic is informal, there is no light on the road.
During the trip, our host Vincent will not stop thanking us for the effort to get there and the help we will provide.
We begin to understand the magnitude of the trip and its impact on these people. We arrive in Bukoto, where we will stay in the house of one of the coaches (Julius Kyobe). My apartment is not especially big, but my bedroom is bigger than his house. There is no sink in the bathroom. No matter, it’s just a detail.
Abel and I have to share a bed while Julius sleeps on a tiny mattress on the floor. We put mosquito nets and after a brief chat, we go to bed. Our task starts on Sunday morning.