Lake Victoria
Traditional Dancers
Hustle and BustleInfamous for a busier party scene, and rumoured to be where “anyone can make it” and have “tall buildings” and “many many people”, Kampala seemed like the place to be. The bus ride to Uganda's capital city is 8 hours from Kigali, plus an additional hour at the boarder to go through customs. C, my room mate, L, a fellow Canadian intern, and I decided it was worth the journey to verify the buzz about the big city. We were allowed to take Friday off work for this “visa renewal journey”, as it is easier to cross the boarder and come back into Rwanda with a new 90 day visa than go through the paperwork at the immigration office.
We set off early Friday morning and with the help of some gravol I slept most of the windy way through Rwanda. The boarder crossing was interesting and a very busy place. We clamoured off the bus and amongst the pushing people made it to the exit office where we were officially stamped out of Rwanda. We then had to cross “no man's land”, a riverbed between the two countries. I couldn't help but imagine times in history where more than a million people in one day fled across the Rwandan boarder, or my colleague at work, who had lived in that very riverbed for two weeks when no country wanted him, his family, or his people. He told me that as he lived there, soldiers told him that not even God loved him or wanted his people. He soon joined the RPF [Rwandan Patriotic Front -a rebel army] after that, at only 14 years old. Thinking about it in the cold morning mountain air made me shiver.
We were welcomed to Uganda by people offering to change our money and boys selling all sorts of tasty looking things. The next 6 hours on the bus passed faster than I thought it would, as I watched the landscape change from Rwanda's thousands of hills to Uganda's somewhat smoother landscape. The highways in Uganda felt like actual highways, as there were actually moments that passed without seeing a single person on the road and the surrounding areas didn't seem to be packed with people and cultivation. Driving on the left hand side took some getting used to, as did the loud funny sounding horn the driver would blare when passing any vehicle.
On first glace, Kampala is already remarkably different than Kigali. There is a visible downtown centre, with new(er) buildings consisting of a fair number of tall towers, shopping centres, a giant mall, at least 2 casinos, hindu temples, mosques, and parliment buildings. We were dropped off at the bus terminal and immediatly made our way to the main street, where the hustle and bustle shook off any sleepiness and made me terribly excited to be there. Since street selling is legal in Uganda (it is illegal in Kigali, as is begging, prostitution, livestock, etc etc) the roads were packed with people, merchandise, animals, street kids, and shops that had overflowed onto the sidewalk. You could have bought anything there it seemed. The pineapple slice I bought from a man with a knife and a cart full of pineapples was the most delicious bite I have ever had (the rest was given to a kid and I've been dreaming about it since). We exchanged some money and got ripped off by a cab driver (shillings are confusing!) who took us to the Imperial Royal Hotel, where a fellow Canadian intern, M, was holding a conference. We were facebook friends and thus couch surfing at his place. God bless F-book.
M was the perfect host. His apartment was on the outskirts of town, close to Lake Victoria (the second largest body of freshwater after lake Superior, I'll have you know). Much like our complex, he had a small 2 bedroom place. Only it was newer, cleaner, next to other muzungus, and the kitchen was inside. It was perfect! Since he only had one mattress, we had to borrow some extra ones from fellow intern ex-pats in his community. I think it was actually the highlight of the weekend, finding these matresses. We walked through his community down the dirt roads, greeting the children he knew along the way. The stars were bright overhead, and the sound of singing from the nearest church could be heard across the feilds. The cool evening air was refreshing. We retrieved the foam mattresses and carried them back to his house on our head, much to the amusement of everyone we saw on the way. But, as they say, when in Rome...
Friday night we ate Ethiopian food. The curries are served in little dishes and each person recieves a large piece of Injera, a spongy sort of sour bread made from Teff (if it can be found). The food is spooned onto the bread, and eaten with only the right hand by using the bread to scoop it up. Not only was it delicious, but fun to eat, too. The coffee we had after the meal was incredible, and I will probably be dreaming about it for awhile. As if I didn't have enough reasons to want to visit Addis (the capital of Ethiopia), now I want to go to experience this coffee ceremony they speak of. Imagine! A whole ceremony dedicated to one of my favorite consumables! I'm tempted to go...
Anyways, after dinner we went to Bubbles O'Leary, an irish (yes, irish) pub where we met some more interns. There seemed to be a larger expat crowd in Kampala, or at least one our age. It was fun to discuss development over some Nile beers (made from the source of the Nile, of course) and meet people with common interests. We followed up with some dancing at the Latin club next door, and climbed into bed to the sound of the evangelist church screaming praises to the good Lord in the early hours of the morning.
First we made our way to the lake for the tolken photo op, and the rest of Saturday was spent wandering the city. I am so glad that I got to experience another capital city in Africa. Kigali is nice, but it is just so... cleaned up, I guess. Tamed. Quiet. Subdude. All the things that you picture to make an African city exciting, such as street vendors, are illegal in Rwanda. It's as if Kigali is trying to hold onto a facade that everything is OK, and that development is happening. But the truth is that extreme poverty has not gone away. In fact, in an attempt to sweep it under the rug, it has forced people from their homes and made livihoods, such as trading, more expensive and difficult. Kampala was alive. It was real. It was in my face and I liked it. However, the giant walmart-like stores did overwhelm me a little; I hadn't seen so many things in one place in awhile! There was a great book shop in Garden City, a mall built by the president for his wife, so I bought a new book there which was a nice treat. No luck finding any cheap clothes though (that looked good on me, that is). We had some delicous Indian food for dinner with some people from M's conference, and called it an early night.
The national museaum was first on the agenda Sunday morning, which had a good collection but probably could have used some TLC. I liked learning about another African country in some detail, and the exibits were interesting enough. We rode the boro-boros (motorcycles) doubled up (which is legal and fun in Uganda – best seat is the bologne) to a concert held for M's conference to raise awareness about cluster bombs and get signatures for the People's Treaty against them. I scored some sweet pins and stickers and got to see some famous Ugandan artists, including Bobi Wine and Sweet Kid. Best of all were the traditional dancers, as I got to compare styles with Rwandan dancing. It was a hot afternoon perfectly spent, followed up by some tasty Mexican food (our stomachs made it around the world in one weekend).
Unfortunatly, the midnight bus home turned out to be the slow bus, afterall. Around 0400h it stopped on the side of the road, in the rain, in the dark. The engine was still running, and I'm still not sure what the problem was, but we didn't move for four hours. As L pointed out, it could have been worse, because they could have made us get off the bus and stand in the rain. At least I was dry and warm. But there was of course no explanation nor compensation. No one seemed bothered or surprised, and most quietly slept. I couldn't help but wonder whether a lack of critisism and complaints from Africans (or at least the ones I have met) is a contributing factor to the tedious pace of development. I'm not sure. I just wonder how anything improves if problems are never pointed out. At any rate, the popcorn we bought in Kampala held us over and my bladder didn't suffer any irreversible damage, although my butt is still sore.
We arrived back in Kigali all in one peice, and the Karmic reward was an unexpected public holiday on Tuesday. I feel like a slacker since I havn't been to work in almost a week, but my colleague reminded me that this is it. This is not just a work term, it's a grand African adventure! So I'm thankful I got to get out there and see more of this dynamic continent, and I look forward to more roadtrips soon. Next up? Burundi!
We set off early Friday morning and with the help of some gravol I slept most of the windy way through Rwanda. The boarder crossing was interesting and a very busy place. We clamoured off the bus and amongst the pushing people made it to the exit office where we were officially stamped out of Rwanda. We then had to cross “no man's land”, a riverbed between the two countries. I couldn't help but imagine times in history where more than a million people in one day fled across the Rwandan boarder, or my colleague at work, who had lived in that very riverbed for two weeks when no country wanted him, his family, or his people. He told me that as he lived there, soldiers told him that not even God loved him or wanted his people. He soon joined the RPF [Rwandan Patriotic Front -a rebel army] after that, at only 14 years old. Thinking about it in the cold morning mountain air made me shiver.
We were welcomed to Uganda by people offering to change our money and boys selling all sorts of tasty looking things. The next 6 hours on the bus passed faster than I thought it would, as I watched the landscape change from Rwanda's thousands of hills to Uganda's somewhat smoother landscape. The highways in Uganda felt like actual highways, as there were actually moments that passed without seeing a single person on the road and the surrounding areas didn't seem to be packed with people and cultivation. Driving on the left hand side took some getting used to, as did the loud funny sounding horn the driver would blare when passing any vehicle.
On first glace, Kampala is already remarkably different than Kigali. There is a visible downtown centre, with new(er) buildings consisting of a fair number of tall towers, shopping centres, a giant mall, at least 2 casinos, hindu temples, mosques, and parliment buildings. We were dropped off at the bus terminal and immediatly made our way to the main street, where the hustle and bustle shook off any sleepiness and made me terribly excited to be there. Since street selling is legal in Uganda (it is illegal in Kigali, as is begging, prostitution, livestock, etc etc) the roads were packed with people, merchandise, animals, street kids, and shops that had overflowed onto the sidewalk. You could have bought anything there it seemed. The pineapple slice I bought from a man with a knife and a cart full of pineapples was the most delicious bite I have ever had (the rest was given to a kid and I've been dreaming about it since). We exchanged some money and got ripped off by a cab driver (shillings are confusing!) who took us to the Imperial Royal Hotel, where a fellow Canadian intern, M, was holding a conference. We were facebook friends and thus couch surfing at his place. God bless F-book.
M was the perfect host. His apartment was on the outskirts of town, close to Lake Victoria (the second largest body of freshwater after lake Superior, I'll have you know). Much like our complex, he had a small 2 bedroom place. Only it was newer, cleaner, next to other muzungus, and the kitchen was inside. It was perfect! Since he only had one mattress, we had to borrow some extra ones from fellow intern ex-pats in his community. I think it was actually the highlight of the weekend, finding these matresses. We walked through his community down the dirt roads, greeting the children he knew along the way. The stars were bright overhead, and the sound of singing from the nearest church could be heard across the feilds. The cool evening air was refreshing. We retrieved the foam mattresses and carried them back to his house on our head, much to the amusement of everyone we saw on the way. But, as they say, when in Rome...
Friday night we ate Ethiopian food. The curries are served in little dishes and each person recieves a large piece of Injera, a spongy sort of sour bread made from Teff (if it can be found). The food is spooned onto the bread, and eaten with only the right hand by using the bread to scoop it up. Not only was it delicious, but fun to eat, too. The coffee we had after the meal was incredible, and I will probably be dreaming about it for awhile. As if I didn't have enough reasons to want to visit Addis (the capital of Ethiopia), now I want to go to experience this coffee ceremony they speak of. Imagine! A whole ceremony dedicated to one of my favorite consumables! I'm tempted to go...
Anyways, after dinner we went to Bubbles O'Leary, an irish (yes, irish) pub where we met some more interns. There seemed to be a larger expat crowd in Kampala, or at least one our age. It was fun to discuss development over some Nile beers (made from the source of the Nile, of course) and meet people with common interests. We followed up with some dancing at the Latin club next door, and climbed into bed to the sound of the evangelist church screaming praises to the good Lord in the early hours of the morning.
First we made our way to the lake for the tolken photo op, and the rest of Saturday was spent wandering the city. I am so glad that I got to experience another capital city in Africa. Kigali is nice, but it is just so... cleaned up, I guess. Tamed. Quiet. Subdude. All the things that you picture to make an African city exciting, such as street vendors, are illegal in Rwanda. It's as if Kigali is trying to hold onto a facade that everything is OK, and that development is happening. But the truth is that extreme poverty has not gone away. In fact, in an attempt to sweep it under the rug, it has forced people from their homes and made livihoods, such as trading, more expensive and difficult. Kampala was alive. It was real. It was in my face and I liked it. However, the giant walmart-like stores did overwhelm me a little; I hadn't seen so many things in one place in awhile! There was a great book shop in Garden City, a mall built by the president for his wife, so I bought a new book there which was a nice treat. No luck finding any cheap clothes though (that looked good on me, that is). We had some delicous Indian food for dinner with some people from M's conference, and called it an early night.
The national museaum was first on the agenda Sunday morning, which had a good collection but probably could have used some TLC. I liked learning about another African country in some detail, and the exibits were interesting enough. We rode the boro-boros (motorcycles) doubled up (which is legal and fun in Uganda – best seat is the bologne) to a concert held for M's conference to raise awareness about cluster bombs and get signatures for the People's Treaty against them. I scored some sweet pins and stickers and got to see some famous Ugandan artists, including Bobi Wine and Sweet Kid. Best of all were the traditional dancers, as I got to compare styles with Rwandan dancing. It was a hot afternoon perfectly spent, followed up by some tasty Mexican food (our stomachs made it around the world in one weekend).
Unfortunatly, the midnight bus home turned out to be the slow bus, afterall. Around 0400h it stopped on the side of the road, in the rain, in the dark. The engine was still running, and I'm still not sure what the problem was, but we didn't move for four hours. As L pointed out, it could have been worse, because they could have made us get off the bus and stand in the rain. At least I was dry and warm. But there was of course no explanation nor compensation. No one seemed bothered or surprised, and most quietly slept. I couldn't help but wonder whether a lack of critisism and complaints from Africans (or at least the ones I have met) is a contributing factor to the tedious pace of development. I'm not sure. I just wonder how anything improves if problems are never pointed out. At any rate, the popcorn we bought in Kampala held us over and my bladder didn't suffer any irreversible damage, although my butt is still sore.
We arrived back in Kigali all in one peice, and the Karmic reward was an unexpected public holiday on Tuesday. I feel like a slacker since I havn't been to work in almost a week, but my colleague reminded me that this is it. This is not just a work term, it's a grand African adventure! So I'm thankful I got to get out there and see more of this dynamic continent, and I look forward to more roadtrips soon. Next up? Burundi!
3 comments:
SO amazing Claire!!!! What excellent adventures you are having. I wish I was there with you!!
xoxo
So great to read all that you are up to. We would love to be with you. You seem to be absorbing everything.
Miss you!!
xoxoxox
Nancy
Claire! I can't get over all the amazing time you are having in Africa! So jealous. I am just on my night shifts here learning about patients and patience. lol.
glad to hear all is well!
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