What is going on here?

During my time at school, the desire for a new environment became more and more crystallized. I wanted to leave Innsbruck, surrounded by mountains, and go out into the world. I realized very soon that I wanted to go to Africa for six months. I was looking for an organization to fight this adventure with. Once I found an organization, I decided to go to Uganda. Why Uganda? Well, my grandmother was there on vacation, and it made sense for me to go there, because she was so flattered by the country and said it was safe, even for young women.

30 days after I graduated, I set out on my way. The suitcase was packed with ideas, ideas and motivation. It was the first time I flew this long distance alone and then the pain of home began quite soon. Nevertheless, I tried to concentrate on going into the whole with joy, because after all, it was my big dream to volunteer once in Africa and I now had the chance to make it happen. However, I was not prepared for all the big stones that would be put in my way.

My plane arrived at 2:00 a.m. at night. The organization assured me they'd pick me up at the airport and I had five emergency numbers that I could call at any time. With the visa filled it went through the passport check and further into the luggage compartment. Then out, for the first time alone on African soil, in a country still strange to me. The people who stood there - actually only men (taxi drivers, guides, hotel employees) - were very helpful and polite from the first minute. Everyone was there except, of course, my organization! I pulled out my emergency card and two young men who saw that I was stressed called all five emergency numbers for me at least two to three times. By now 3:00 in the morning of course without success. There I stood, in the heart of Africa, with my guitar, 19 years and a big dream that started to break from that second.

A lucky person like me, three ladies have been flying with me since Frankfurt. They were actually waiting for me with their pickup service. They saw that no one was here to pick me up and asked their taxi driver to wait. After he noticed that all the numbers were called unsuccessfully, he told me I should go in, he will take me to the hotel, where the three ladies will sleep. Fixed and finished and tired I then ended up in a large, spacious, noble bungalow, where I could just sleep out the first shock once.

The next day, two hotel employees took everything into their hands that I finally got to the organization. They spoke to them on the phone at least five times and made it clear that this is not possible. On the phone, my organization said they'd pick me up in two hours. Two became three, three became four. Then it was noon, and the hotel staff asked me to eat something, which I first refused because I would be picked up at any time. That's what the man in charge for me in the hotel meant, yes, then they'll have to wait now, after you've been waiting for her for four hours. And they came quickly when I was just starting to eat. The hotel staff made them hell hot and I quietly finished my meal, because they thought they would pick me up in an hour, as they would have to pick up another volunteer at the airport. That day I waited for the whole nine hours until it finally went to Kampala, the capital of Uganda.

After three days at the hotel in Kampala, the organization moved us to another hotel in the city. It was said that we were leaving at 9:00, but in fact it was not until 3:00. Well, within a week, I already got acquainted with the good old African Time twice. The clocks are actually different here than in Europe.

In 2015, it was not usual, at least in Uganda, to have a SIM card and then have internet everywhere. It made me very comfortable and when we were in the completely remote hotel, I once climbed into my home pain attacks so that I jumped around like the rumpelstilzchen. The pain at home did not improve and I was in Uganda for two weeks at that time. After the Orientation Week, we all went into our projects. Who, of course, had chosen the most isolated and loneliest project in the world? Exactly, I!

I was picked up by a nun and we went on a two-hour drive to Nirwana, Uganda, far from any civilization and any life. I was supposed to spend my six months at a school in the absolute bush of Uganda. The best conditions for someone who had to struggle with home pain attacks for two weeks.

I arrived at the project when there were about 50 kids there. I was in a boarding school, that's an intern, which is not uncommon here. They showed me my room and then the nun explained to me that now it is holiday for the next four weeks, that is, all the children will go home. How can you please bring volunteers to a country and then it says, yes you have nothing to do, because we have holidays!!! At that time I was unfortunately not as brave and adventurous to sit in a safari car and tour the country, this decision not made, I actually regret to this day.

After I had nothing to do and it became unimaginable for me to stay there for three weeks, I asked the organization to change the project and I also asked to stay in Kampala, because there was just more going on there. When I was finally picked up, I learned that three volunteers before me had also canceled this project because it was just too remote and challenging to be there alone.

Then it was called waiting for African Time again. The organization already had a project for me, but no family yet, and instead of allowing me to go to the project and do something, they let me sit around in the hotel. They actually left me to the left. The time in the hotel, however, should completely change my life, but this story follows another time.

A week later I was finally taken to a host family and from that point on everything went upwards. I did it. I had a very nice host family and the project consisted of so many different impressions that every day a new challenge was on the doorstep and there was always something to do. Then I became anxious, which was also called emotional, and decided to pack my suitcases and drive home.

I booked my flight and would have flown home three days later, on a Sunday. Well, the story't be exciting if nothing else had happened. I was forgotten again! So I missed my return flight home for an hour and had to take the plane home two days later. I asked the organization to get me to the airport three hours earlier, and they just looked at me and thought it was far too early. The hotel staff, however, insisted that this should be so that I could reach this plane.

Well, so instead of six months, I spent five weeks in Uganda, and since I returned from that country, the dream of my African visits only came to life even more and was absolutely not fulfilled. However, at that time I was not mature, old, brave, strong enough to carry it out. Who knows what it's good for, because I don't think it would have come as it is now if I had lasted the six months then! The experience and time in Uganda was one of the toughest, but at the same time one of best, and I don't want to miss it. They shaped me every day, and they kept a portion of my future ready, something that I hadn't even imagined at the time.