After about 27 hours combined travel time (Raleigh-Detroit-Amsterdam-Entebbe, Uganda), we shuffled through customs, showed our yellow fever immunization records, and picked up our bags at the scant Entebbe International Airport "terminal"--wide-eyed the whole time. We were finally on African soil. There to meet us were Pastor Jackson Senyonga (Dr. Haglund's contact throughout the planning stages of the trip), Dr. Stephen Mallinga, the Ugandan Minister of Health, and several doctors and nurses ("sisters") from the hospital.
Thankfully, we had enjoyed relatively uneventful travels. I did, however, hit a snag in the Amsterdam Airport. One of my carry-ons was a cranial reconstruction tray zipped up in a canvas bag--complete with plates, screws, screwdrivers, scissors--yes, scissors--and other random sharp objects. This was obviously not a big hit with the screeners, so of course I got the run-down by the "Dutch Barney Fife's" (hopefully no one in Holland watches Andy Griffith). But hey, I was not about to check this $130,000 bag under the plane just to have it end up in Jakarta or something; I'd ride with it in steerage if I had to. I had to open everything up--microscopic plates and screws spilling everywhere--while even the supervisors were calling in their supervisors. Thank goodness Dr. Schroeder was there to substantiate my alibi as I almost lost one of the most crucial pieces of equipment that we would inevitably need right off the bat in surgery.
Thankfully, we had enjoyed relatively uneventful travels. I did, however, hit a snag in the Amsterdam Airport. One of my carry-ons was a cranial reconstruction tray zipped up in a canvas bag--complete with plates, screws, screwdrivers, scissors--yes, scissors--and other random sharp objects. This was obviously not a big hit with the screeners, so of course I got the run-down by the "Dutch Barney Fife's" (hopefully no one in Holland watches Andy Griffith). But hey, I was not about to check this $130,000 bag under the plane just to have it end up in Jakarta or something; I'd ride with it in steerage if I had to. I had to open everything up--microscopic plates and screws spilling everywhere--while even the supervisors were calling in their supervisors. Thank goodness Dr. Schroeder was there to substantiate my alibi as I almost lost one of the most crucial pieces of equipment that we would inevitably need right off the bat in surgery.
As we piled into the bus, I grabbed shot-gun--a position I would later regret. We sped from Entebbe to Kampala (about a 45 minute trip, but probably around 2 hours for us normal law-abiders), narrowly missing mopeds, bicycles, pedestrians, other cars by mere inches. Considering the combination of speed (about 70 km/h), volkswagen-sized potholes, and other "obstacles" challenging our driver, I think the term "white-knuckle-driving" was invented here. Later, we settled in for the night at the plush Kampala Serena Hotel for a much-needed nap.
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