It finally happened... after a pretty decent day yesterday which started with a hike across town for a Cappuccino and an apple tart (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) my trusty Mac (called ancient by some - its being a 2008 version) was put on life support today and has rallied with a cable transplant and a lot of hard drive repair.
Good Friday (a misnomer in this case): with fear in my heart and panic in my soul I had no choice - I found the Apple computer place that only sells hardware (for those of you in PC owning an Apple it's Elite Computers at Garden City - ground level). Being Good Friday - Kampala was closed. Saturday - "Oh you need the support center." OMG there's a SUPPORT CENTER in Kampala? Are they Authorized - well - let's not go there. Suffice it to say that they are an Authorized Re-seller.
Monday - still closed: Easter MONDAY! (Uganda takes it's holidays seriously.) Tuesday dawns: Time is running out and like the burned foot, I have to trust someone. I have found the Support Center in the back of a building along Kampala Road.
I enter with my baby in arms. This act is only slightly less stressful than taking your infant child to the emergency room. I know - I've done both. I find George, a nice Ugandan tech who speaks impeccable English that I can understand. (I am not being sarcastic.... my ear is not yet attuned to the somehow British Ugandan English and they speak very s.o.f.t.l.y). I am relieved and finally allow myself to breathe. I tell him the issues: the wheel, the recurring scary black sign emanating Darth Vader vibes saying in FIVE languages YOU MUST SHUT DOWN YOUR COMPUTER.... NOOOOOOOOW. I do - no one messes with Darth Vader. This morning, there was only a thready pulse... Programs would not open. It wasn't even whimpering - it was deathly quiet - registering not so much as the battery indicator.
George is one of those low-key high-tech types that make those of us who are neither want to do homage. He speaks in comforting tones, smiles, nods knowingly when I make references to this being my child, gets me to step-away-from-computer saying things like "don't worry," (comforting) followed by "It's backed up - right? (not so comforting - even if it is backed-up). I admit to not having the back-up drive with me and he says he'll back it up to one of his.... OK, another deep breath now.
Prior to this total act of trust and desperation, I have purged files, removed pictures, prayed, made deals with the devil, etc. - all to no avail. I have contacted PCVs with move computer savvy that I have and acted on recommendations. So 911 is a last resort - going to an unknown Computer hospital in Uganda could be life-threatening. Remember - we are warned not to seek random medical care and this almost seems to qualify as emergency care in life-or-death circumstances. No - I'm not being over-dramatic. Computers are the life-blood of a volunteer!
When he says it will take hours, I agree not to hover. Instead, I leave and go suck my thumb. Some three hours later he tells me he has hit a snag. I made more deals with the devil and went in search of both chocolate and money. (I am at the bottom of my account inasmuch as I have paid for this rather expensive trip of five days in the garden spot known as Kampala over EASTER when others of my kind are frisking around on the Nile probably eating fine food.... I have not been reimbursed. Time to beg.)
Having cleaned out my account, there is no money for chocolate. The computer will take it all. See what mothers will do to save their children? When I return to the shop, George is out for lunch. I decide this is a good sign because he wouldn't leave if it were dying - right? He returns, says there is a cable that seems iffy. I translate this to open heart surgery, hearing transplant in my mind. And there it is: a cable. One microscopic thread of a wire - one of many in this tiny bundle - has broken. And - therein lies the culprit, the saboteur, the beast! No amount of cleaning, purging, downloading, praying, etc. would have worked. We need parts - Apple parts. Lucky for me there is a donor in the very next room. I will wait...
I find yet another Who-done-it to read on my Kindle and spend another two hours in the "waiting room" with other expectant Apply owners. Finally the doctor emerges, beaming proudly as he announces "It will live."
So I have a largely functioning computer, which will be happier when I get it home and do the Time Machine backup. I also have the latest versions of Office and I don't know what else. And I have lived to tell the tale, having been pulled back from the edge by George. Once again - what seemed dire at the outset, has proved less than fatal. Like the burn, the fire, the tree falling and the burglary - another chapter in the adventure. Enough already - when do we get to the fun part! Are we there yet???
So, for any of you fellow-PCV's reading this, there is Mac Help in Kampala, should you ever need it. The whole affair cost me 200,000 shillings (including cable transplant). We are in "recovery" tonight.
Panic is exhausting. I've had two Orange Fantas - damn I hate that drinking gives me headache. This would have been a good time to start.
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