Driving is a lot scarier than walking

I drove to work today (my very first trip out being on Sunday), and it’s even scarier than when I first learned. Remember the first time you drove off of your street and you hadn’t quite figured out where the edges of your car – or anyone else’s – were? Imagine that feeling, except your sitting on the other side of the vehicle, trying to figure out which direction traffic will be heading from, trying to avoid as many potholes as possible, huge speedbumps in random places, goats, cows, men on bicycles which massive bundles of bananas on the back, and pedestrians that must think they’re invincible. I was so happy when we reached the big road to Entebbe. There are still minibuses pulling on and off with little warning, but at least not so many kids or mopeds to dodge. I had a splitting headache by the time that I got to our office. How am I ever going to get around this place?

Apparently I drive at the speed of an old lady here, too. I knew from all the people trying to pass me that I must be going a little slower than usual. Once I got off the road I realized that I’d been driving less than 40 mph on the highway. LA drivers would be so ashamed of me. And that was the easy drive - now I have to tackle the roundabouts, morning traffic to Kampala and the drive home from Entebbe. Yay. Night driving.