#UgandaisnotSpain – first published in 2012
#UgandaisnotSpain
Er … we knew that.
The American showman, entertainer and sometime scam artist, Phineas Taylor Barnum (1810 – 1891) was remembered for founding his famous circus and for a number of well-known sayings, such as “there’s no such thing as bad publicity.”
I wonder what PT Barnum would have made of this week’s #UgandaisnotSpain international spat? [June 2012].
Not to miss out on an opportunity, Ugandans (the media and the private sector at least) had a field day this week with #UgandaisnotSpain on Twitter.
Who started the #SpainisnotUganda and #UgandaisnotSpain Twitter debate?
Spanish Prime Minister Rajoy sent a text to his finance minister during negotiations of a bailout for Spanish banks. The text read: “We’re the number four power in Europe. Spain is not Uganda.”
“Spain is not Uganda!” we retorted with er, no actually, Uganda is not Spain.
Frankly it’s all academic to me.
Spain may be a wealthy country – but it has huge debt.
Uganda has (comparatively) high growth – but equally huge deficits in terms of infrastructure and skills.
For a fascinating snapshot of Ugandan society (tourists look away now), read this excellent article Yes, Uganda is not Spain, but what do we see when we look in the mirror? from this week’s Daily Monitor newspaper. Not all the comments make sense to me! But debate is alive and well in UG.
If you prefer figures and stats, read this article ‘Even With Its Loads of Problems, Spain Indeed Is Not Uganda.’
Two years later, at the Africa Travel Association (ATA) Congress in Kampala, President Yoweri Museveni reignited the Uganda vs Spain debate. Museveni is a great speaker, often funny (not always intentionally), but he’s no fool. Jokes aside, he had a serious message. Opening the annual week-long ATA Congress, the President of Uganda told the audience that whenever he watches international weather on TV, the presenter shows us that “They’re roasting in Riyadh and freezing in Sweden…”
“Don’t go to Spain, it’s too hot” the President said “come to Uganda instead.”
The Guardian newspaper picked up Museveni’s comments and asked Uganda or Spain: where would you prefer to go on holiday? – poll of Guardian UK readers – at which point UOT (Ugandans on Twitter) – and Facebook too – got busy (busier than our Spanish counterparts at least!)
And here’s some more from President Museveni on the subject: Uganda is a better holiday destination than Spain, president says
And how about you – where would you prefer to go on holiday? Uganda or Spain?
Bukasa stand-off, doggy style
Morning walks with Baldrick used to be so fun and easy.
Percy the puppy is now the same size – but with a brain the size of a pea. It’s not just that he’s a puppy, I’m sure he’s a bit dim.
Half kangaroo / half dog, Percy bounces up towards me every time I see him. I love his enthusiasm but his boundless energy wears me out. This nervous little puppy watches my every move, unlike Balders, who would happily let strangers climb over him as they enter the house. He would hardly lift his head.
That’s all changed now of course.
With the appearance of a rival, Baldrick feels the need to assert himself on a regular basis. Top Dog is now a good guard dog too – he’s finally earning his keep! Luckily he has a dignified bark (not like that annoying thing in the compound opposite that barks in the middle of the night, every night).
I can trust Baldrick. I know that if he chases a chicken or a goat, he will stop short of trying to kill it. He does a U-turn right at the last second, with a cheeky look on his face, as the goat or chicken leaps / squawks into the air. With Percy, it’s a different matter; you can tell that ‘mouth on legs’ won’t stop running; the needle-sharp teeth will do their damage. (Lord knows he gets through anything we leave lying around the compound: last week he ate my lovely tyre cover! Last night he chewed a big hole in the brand new dog blanket!)
I have a problem with my hands, so the last thing I want on my relaxing morning walk is to have them pulled out of their sockets by an overexcited puppy straining at the leash.
As we turn a corner close to Lake Victoria, we see a herd of long-horned Ankole cattle slowly walking towards us, accompanied by a motley bunch of yapping dogs, teeth barred. Baldrick is off the lead, jumping and playing. Everybody’s a new friend to this cool dog.
But as the cattle and dogs come closer, I realise there’s no way we’re going to pass the herd without a fight, so I back off. (Caesar Milan would not approve; I’ve given off the wrong message, giving up my space to the approaching dogs) but Percy whines and fusses and yanks hard on the leash. It feel like my fingers are being cut off by the cheesewire-like thread of the nylon leash. (I’ve taken to buying the cheapest leashes I can; Percy’s sliced through four already).
We backtrack a few feet, I call Baldrick over and we stand aside while the herd and pack of four overprotective dogs carry on down the path behind us.
The dogs of Bukasa are out in full force today. There’s another one watching us at the end of a narrow road. I’m not turning back now though. He’s a handsome devil, a Doberman with beautifully shaped ears, erect and alert as he sees us approach. He stakes his claim in the middle of the dirt road.
Two workmen watch us and call out to the dog, beckoning him to go back inside the building site. He doesn’t want to listen but eventually disappears from view.
Me and the boys walk by, Baldrick minding his own business, Percy whining again. As we turn the corner, I hear the tell-tale patter of a dog running up behind us, and three men shouting:
“Kivu!”
“Kivu!”
“Kivu!”
The Doberman pulls up short at the boundary of his territory and I turn to wave the workmen a relieved thank you. Phew!
Dogs have been a big part of my life in Uganda. Here are some of my favourite stories:
- Prizes for my ‘indigenous mix’ Baldrick wins first prize in the ‘dog with the waggiest tail’ competition!
- Early morning sights and sounds a wonderful way to start any day – watching the sunrise over Lake Victoria
- Percy the Rescue Puppy – the first 24 hours also introducing you to my very good friends Simpson and Ronald
Bye Bye Bujagali Falls …
The final day Grade 5 white water rafting at Bujagali Falls
Life jackets, helmets and wooden paddles were dished out to us before we trotted down to the River Nile to meet our guides in a day of brilliant sunshine. I stayed close to my guide, designer-dreadlocked* Nathan, who promised to keep an eye on me.
Our safety training and practice session behind us, we took the first rapid gently. I felt like a little kid, just loving every moment of it. The next rapid took us all by surprise – it was big! Our raft flipped over and I was thrown out of the raft like popcorn. Paul stuck out his paddle for me to grab onto and reeled me in while I splutter-giggled sincere words of thanks. A kayaker appeared and told us to hold on to his kayak as we were delivered through the water back to our raft. Nathan grabbed my jacket and hauled me up and into the raft – he was so strong he flew me high into the air causing hysterical laughter among our team – but we were all back together, everyone grinning with excitement. Nathan told us to grab our paddles, sit back on the edge of the raft and resume paddling…
The guides were psyching everyone up for the next rapid – and we were expecting to flip over again. For some reason, I really, really wanted us to!
We two girls yelled “We DON’T want to flip…” while the rest of the team sat in silent contemplation of our last immersion. Then the girls responded to the silence “…but we don’t want the calm side of the river either!”
And off we paddled as hard as we could, determined not to lose the raft again, whilst fighting the automatic urge to close my eyes in the spray. I didn’t want to miss a thing. We were being thrown around so violently, tossed in all directions.
Suddenly it was calm.
We all turned to see Nathan do a back somersault into the water and we all fell about laughing with exhilaration and relief. We looked back and watched the next raft take the rapid – I couldn’t believe that had been us bursting through all that white water just a minute beforehand – it looked absolutely terrifying but I just wanted to do it all over again!
I LOVED it.
Excitement overcame the apprehension and I couldn’t stop grinning the whole way through!
NOTE:
This section of the River Nile is now submerged under Lake Bujagali, thanks to Bujagali going online. We were mostly oblivious to the finality of the day; we were too absorbed with trying to keep afloat!
Story by rafting partners-in crime and Uganda Conservation colleagues Julia Lloyd and Andrew Roberts.
*No rasta jokes please!
Yes, we have no bananas
“Yes, we have no bananas” a song that could have been written in celebration of Uganda’s favourite fast food
Bananas require no preparation, no refrigeration – and they’re cheap; just reach out your arm and you’ll find one – in villages, along the roadside, in the corner shop and balanced in wide baskets on ladies’ heads amongst the traffic jams in downtown Kampala.
Baby Dillon can eat four sweet bananas for breakfast!
I arrived at Julia’s homestay on the edge of Kibale Forest plastered in banana – they were everywhere I looked. Fresh bananas were ‘ever waiting’ for the guests at Julia’s. We brought them with us from Kampala too, although they quickly turned brown in the hot car.
Three days in the Bush, all banana’d out, we point the car in the direction of the crater lakes of Fort Portal and pass a lady selling fruit under a tree.
“Would you like some more bananas?” Julia asks.
“No thanks.”
I may well have eaten a banana too many. I tell you what love, I’ll tell you where you can stick your bananas.
And from 1923, a song by Louis Prima that sticks in my head as stubbornly as banana puree clings to my once-clean trousers ….
*Check your sound’s on*
1, 2, 3 let’s sing along to: “Yes, we have no Bananas”…
It’s run by a Greek
And he keeps good things to eat but you should hear him speak!
When you ask him anything, he never answers “no”
He just “yes”es you to death, and as he takes your dough he tells you
“Yes, we have no bananas
We have-a no bananas today
Cabashes, and scallions,
And all sorts of fruit and say
We have an old fashioned tomato
A Long Island potato but yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today”
When he got them in the store, there was fun, you bet
Someone asked for “sparrow grass” and then the whole quartet
All answered “Yes, we have no bananas
We have-a no bananas today
Those walnuts and doughnuts
There ain’t many nuts like they
We’ll sell you two kinds of red herring,
Dark brown, and ball-bearing
But yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today
Yes, I don’t think we got soup or pie
You gotta coconut pie?
Yes, I don’t think we got coconut pie
Well I’ll have one cup a coffee
We gotta no coffee
Then watta you got?
I got a banana!
Oh you’ve got a banana!
Hey, Mary Anna, you gotta… gotta no banana?
Why this man, he’s no believe-a what I say… no… he no believe me…
Now whatta you wanta mister? You wanna buy twelve for a quarter?
Well, just a one of a look, I’m gonna call for my daughter
Hey, Mary Anna You gotta piana
Yes, a banana, no
Yes, we gotta no bananas today!
That we are entirely out of the fruit in question
The afore-mentioned vegetable bearing the cognomen “Banana“
We might induce you to accept a substitute less desirable,
But that is not the policy at this internationally famous green grocery
I should say not. No no no no no no no
But may we suggest that you sample our five o’clock tea
Which we feel certain will tempt your pallet?
However we regret that after a diligent search
Of the premises By our entire staff
We can positively affirm without fear of contradiction
That our raspberries are delicious; really delicious
Very delicious but we have no bananas today.
A ticking off – ringing birds in Kibale Forest
According to Roussouw, “Kibale Forest harbours the greatest variety and concentration of primates found anywhere in East Africa.”
Well, thumbs up to that. Kibale is where the muzungu saw her first wild Chimpanzee, and the apparently ‘elusive’ Red Colobus monkey (although I’m not sure whether the staff at Kibale Forest Camp would agree, hearing them crash through the forest while they’re serving the guests sundowners).
Incredibly rich in animal life, Kibale is a place of many firsts for me. Even after three years in Uganda working in conservation, Mother Nature’s still been holding back on me: my first wild chimp, my first Red Colobus Monkey, my first Green Mamba! But these were all unexpected bonuses – we’d actually travelled to Kibale to ring birds.
The previous day Julia had instructed the boys to hack a pathway through the high grass at the edge of the forest. Four-metre high bamboo poles were hung with a fine nylon ‘mist net’ barely visible at dusk or dawn, gently ensnaring unsuspecting birds. Off with the anoraks and on with the Ipod – there’s as much technology in 21st-century birding as in any walk of life . (Bird calls are stored on the iPod, which is hung strategically close to the forest to attract the birds). Every few minutes, one of the team would disappear into the Bush to check the net, returning excitedly a few minutes later with their feathered booty in a little cloth bag.
On our feet since dawn, ringing birds is harder than it looks: concentrating on the welfare of the birds, not leaving them in the net for more than 20 minutes, keeping them cool.
No-one had slept much the night before. We’d been woken at two in the morning by a gargantuan face-off between the chimps in the forest and three dogs tearing around the compound – all set off by a hungry elephant! It was the chimps that had woken Mandela. He’d then quickly woken Bahati and off they ran to chase the elephants away from the precious pineapple field.
That morning, expert birder and tour guide Malcolm was very excited at rumours of a White Collared Oliveback – “Ooooh, put it back in the bag,” he said, savouring the moment.
Dawn looked nervous when advised she was about to pull ‘a new bird’ out of the bag. It’s a bit like lucky dip really! Or not so lucky in Dawn’s case: she dipped her hand in – and winced in agony as an enormous beak bit her hand! The Blue Breasted Kingfisher was one of the weekend’s top finds, with the most experienced ringer ‘getting the tick first.’ If there was envy, no-one let on!
Malcolm gave Dawn more warning about the Grosbeak (Thickbilled) Weaver: “Beware Dawn, this one has an 80 pound per square inch peck!” i.e. don’t be fooled by the small beak, it can exert a painfully powerful peck!
“The secret is to get the kids involved” said Richard, encouraging Hope and Amos to hold the birds and help identify them. He was less positive about the Marsh Tchagra: “they bite a lot, like all Shrikes – nasty birds.”
Eager to see the birds in the nets (before anyone else!) – I got lost – twice!
Malcolm waved his finger at me sternly as Nathan and I rejoined the group back in the shade by the house.
“Don’t spend so much time by the nets,” he said. I felt embarrassed. (I didn’t mean to get lost!)
Highlights of the two days’ ringing included a pair of exquisite Grey-headed Negrofinches (now known as Negritas), Green-backed Twinspots, a Little Greenbul (I was relieved to hear the experts struggle to identify birds too!) and a Brown-chested Alethe (a species of forest thrush that can only be caught with an iPod and a mist net); a Green Hylia (a type of warbler), an Olive-bellied Sunbird and a tiny White-ringed Prinia.
You can read a full trip report from the visiting birders on the Teifi Ringing Group’s blog.
It was a real treat for an amateur birder like me to see such wonderful birdlife come out of the forest. Everyone pointed out birds flying overhead and in trees around us: an emerald green Diederick’s Cuckoo, Lesser Striped Swallows, African Grey parrots, a Superb Sunbird; a Black Crowned Tchagra (a shrike) in the long grass.
The Roussouw guide says “watch for flocks of rare and localised White Naped Pigeons in-flight overhead or sunning themselves in treetops in the early morning” and lo and behold, the White Naped Pigeons were in front of us.
Fascinating and fun too, the two days’ information collected is baseline data for a study of the biodiversity of the forest edge. The data’s being shared with NatureUganda, one of the partners in a new East African bird ringing scheme.
- African Blue Flycatcher
- African Grey Parrots
- African Yellow Whiteye (R)
- Black Crowned Tchagra
- Blue Breasted Kingfisher (R)
- Bronze Mannikin
- Bronze Sunbird
- Brown-chested Alethe (R)
- Brown-throated Wattle-eye
- Diederick’s Cuckoo
- Dusky Blue Flycatcher
- Green Crombec (R)
- Green Hylia (R)
- Green Twinspot (R)
- Green-backed Twinspots (R)
- Grey-backed Camaroptera (R)
- Grey-headed Negrofinch (R)
- Grosbeak (Thick-billed) Weaver (R)
- Klaas’s Cuckoo (R)
- Lesser Striped Swallow
- Little Greenbul (R)
- Marsh Tchagra (R)
- Northern Double-collared Sunbird
- Olive-bellied Sunbird (R)
- Pygmy Kingfisher (R)
- Ross’s Turaco
- Slender-billed Weaver (R)
- Snowy-headed Robinchat (R)
- Superb Sunbird
- Vieillot’s Black Weaver
- White-naped Pigeon
- White-collared Oliveback (R)
- White Chinned Prinia (R)
- White-headed Sawwing
- Yellow-rumped Tinkerbird (R)
- Yellow-whiskered Greenbul (R)
NOTE 2021: Since writing this blog, the 40 acres of regenerating farmland have developed into Sunbird Hill, a site for birders, ornithologists, lepidopterists, entomologists, primatologists and tourists who want to be immersed in nature. Sunbird Hill supports the work of In the Shadow of Chimpanzees, a small NGO that is training young people in conservation and developing village tourism along the edge of the National Park.
Sir Winston Churchill’s pearls of wisdom about Uganda
Sir Winston Churchill famously said of Uganda:
“Uganda is the Pearl of Africa.”
I wonder what he would make of how often the 21st-century Ugandan tourist industry quotes his words? At Entebbe airport, visitors are invited to fill in immigration forms proudly stating “welcome to the Pearl of Africa.”
But another more general quote of his, that I came across by accident last week, that resonates even more with me in Uganda.
Despite the wall-to-wall Technicolor blue skies, endless radiant green fields and plantations, the vibrant red earth and even more vibrant Ugandan people, working in a developing country can really test your patience:
Power that ‘chucks’ (computers flick on and off at work and every other evening we’re without electricity),
the dust,
slow Internet with frequent service interruptions (which stupid ba#t$rd has dropped an anchor on the cable under the Indian Ocean disconnecting the WHOLE of East Africa this time?)
bureaucracy that makes you want to bang head against the wall (or bang someone’s head anyway),
the dust,
37° in the middle of the day and you’re stuck to the plastic seat of your car in another unnecessary traffic jam,
swerving to avoid the crater-like potholes that reappear after every heavy rainfall, mosquitoes,
workers who are too busy reading the daily paper from cover to cover to notice that you’re waiting to be served,
lack of recycling facilities (man, that irks me),
not a Prêt a Manager or M&S Food in sight (!)
the dust,
mobile phone networks that charge you for your SMS but don’t deliver them,
blood-boiling evangelicals who blast me with bullshit as I’m stuck in rush-hour traffic,
corrupt traffic police who are too busy pocketing money for school fees to help us get to work on time,
taxi drivers who double their fare just because you’re a Muzungu,
people at conferences and training programs insisting on per diems (attendance fees).
I could go on …
Walking the streets of London’s Camden Town last week, the words of a postcard in a shop jumped out at me:
Sir, you saved me. I’m more indebted to you than you could possibly imagine.
Waragi dreams on the River Nile at Jinja
The bed next to mine hasn’t been slept in and I reach through a Uganda Waragi haze for my phone, stashed away in the metal trunk under the bed at Nile River Explorers Camp.
“Hope you’re ok? Or do I need to pull you out of a ditch / jail etc?” reads the text I send my friend K.
Two minutes later the phone rings. My head is still on the pillow. In fact, I hardly recognize my own voice after last night’s cigarettes.
“Where are we?” K asks someone on the other end of the line.
“Triangle Hotel” comes back the answer.
Oh God, my head hurts …
“How much money do you have on you?” K asks me. “I’ve lost my wallet.”
Now there’s a surprise: fuelled by half a bottle of Uganda Waragi, the stupid Muzungu has followed the scent of a woman into Jinja town. It’s a 45 minute ride in total darkness through the countryside on rutted marram roads – on the back of a boda boda of course.
“I fell asleep three times,” he tells me. (Or did he say he fell off the bike three times?)
I just hope she’s worth it!
For more dating stories, read How to date a Ugandan and Downtown dreadlocks, the muzungu’s blind date.
Do you stop the car in Nairobi?
“Stop the car,” says Jane. “Take me back to the airport.”
It’s 11 pm. After an uneventful flight – save for the mother who let her (very obviously distressed) 4 year old son bawl for 20 minutes, we land in Nairobi.
We’re last on the plane. (Are there many international airports where the flight attendant approaches you in duty-free to remind you the plane is about to leave?)
We banter with the guys at immigration at Jomo Kenyatta Airport. Despite being EAC residents – and regular visitors to Kenya – they still want to charge Jane the standard $50 tourist visa fee. (Where’s EAC integration when you need it?) The Guy with the Attitude tells her to show him where her visa is (isn’t it HIS job to decipher all those pages of stamps and dodgy handwriting?) “Na na na na” she says as she flashes the page in his face. Too late. He has started writing her name on the visa stamp.
Next in line, mine therefore reads her name crossed out then mine.
A note to Immigration: I’m trying to adhere to the rules but … despite my best and honest efforts, last time I entered Kenya as Nagawa (my Ugandan name) and I left as a US citizen.
It’s only when we get in the taxi that Jane – two hours sans fags – notices the large sign in front of her saying:
NO SMOKING
“Stop the car,” says Jane. “Take me back to the airport. I want another car.”
“What?” asks the driver, confused.
“It is against company policy to smoke in our taxis.” He carries on driving.
“It is against the law to smoke in a taxi in Kenya.” He’s biding his time…
A fast one-way road stretches out in front of us (how will he turn round?) Uganda’s potholed roads force us to drive slowly; smooth, fast roads always scare me when I first leave Uganda
Jane picks up the phone and calls his boss. I squirm in the back of the car.
Jane’s voice rises. “You lied to me!” she tells him,” it is NOT company policy that passengers can’t smoke in cars and it is NOT illegal to smoke in a taxi in Kenya.” Even I’m feeling like a fag by now!
Her accusations are met with silence from the driver.
Karibu – welcome to Kenya … ! This conversation just would not happen in Uganda. Few people smoke / few people care if you smoke and disagreements are met with grace and humour (and a good measure of bullshit) but there’s rarely anger.
Tight rows of reflector posts guide us towards the well-lit UN HQ, soldiers patrolling its perimeter. And then, amidst all this security, a young man launches himself into the middle of the road ahead of us, grinning and waving his arms at us to slow down.
Our driver slows down. “Just keep on driving,” shouts Jane.
Why, after speeding all the way from the airport, does he choose to slow down at the chance of trouble? (Nairobi’s reputation for car jackings precedes it).
“Drive the fucker over!”
I didn’t come to Nairobi to kill someone; but suddenly, all the rules have changed. It feels so different to Uganda.
The driver puts his foot down and we continue into the night.
I first visited Nairobi en route to South Africa – A quick glimpse of Nairobi nightlife
To save money, I slept in the airport. Check out this funky web site – Sleeping in Airports! and my review of Nairobi airport.
An alternative way to travel from Uganda, is by bus – Kampala to Nairobi – 14 hours of speed bumps
Kony2012 and what it means for Uganda – the Muzungu’s view
(Joseph) Kony 2012 and what it means for Uganda – the Muzungu’s view
The 64 million views (as of today) of Invisible Children’s videos on YouTube are a marketer’s dream come true.
Isn’t it a goddam shame that it’s always the bad stories that are popular?
And isn’t it a tragedy that Uganda is always in the news for the wrong reasons?
Eh banange!
🙁
The #kony2012 and #makekonyfamous debate is fascinating BUT before I go any further, can I please say loud and clear: Uganda ‘The Pearl of Africa’ is a beautiful, secure and welcoming place with the friendliest people you could hope to meet. I feel safer living here – three years without incident – than I did in London.
The 20 year civil war in Northern Uganda is officially over – tourism is predominantly in the south-west of the country – although the North will take generations to rebuild. Many thousands of people are trying to rebuild their lives. Many won’t manage it; the emotional and physical scars are too deep (especially for children who have been kidnapped, sexually assaulted and forced to become killing machines).
Joseph Kony is evil.
His crimes against humanity are undisputed. But why has he remained at large for so long?
Read Jane Bussmann’s book ‘The worst date ever’ about Joseph Kony and the Lord’s Resistance Army
As comedy-writer-turned-Kony-expert Jane Bussmann argues in the Huffington Post this week there has to be a reason why Uganda’s 40,000 strong army don’t seem to be able to track down him and his rag tag bunch of kid soldiers.
It goes without saying that it’s good this issue is being discussed but let’s not kid ourselves that a video will necessarily lead to anything substantial. Last year I was offered an interview to work with Invisible Children. I turned it down but, to be honest, was impressed with the way they seek to draw in young people who had no awareness of this side of the world.
Joseph Kony 2012 Video: ‘Stop Kony’ Campaign Draws Criticism
Here are a few real things you CAN do:
1. Do read Jane’s superb book: well-researched and hilarious by equal measure (throw in a touch of bonkers!)
The Worst Date Ever: or How It Took a Comedy Writer to Expose Africa’s Secret War2. US citizens should read Jane’s article for how to lobby their Senator.
Pssst! I found him! Someone should let the UPDF (Ugandan army know) Did a quick online search just now:
Chimp alert! Muzungu bolthole? Kibale Forest
Three dogs bark excited greetings as we drive up the steep hill on the approach to Julia’s house on the edge of Kibale Forest.
The four hours from Kampala to Fort Portal on tarmac are easy. The last hour of the journey is the hardest: balancing a plastic bag full of raw eggs on my lap, as Julia races down the rutted dustbowl that passes for a road. Cool crater lakes beckon right and left.
I’m having a break from the midday sun. Julia suggests I haul my Jerry can of cold water up into the sunshine so it’s warm for my afternoon shower. Butterflies circle around the water dripping into the washing bowl beneath the Jerry can. Julia’s world is full of her dad’s home-made inventions, contraptions in which Jerry cans feature prominently.
Determined to finish her Ph.D., Julia is spending most of her time in Kampala this year. We arrive in Kibale to find the inverter is broken, so there’s no power; the solar panel isn’t working either. There’s no gas left in Fort Portal, so we borrow a gas cylinder from a local lodge. At least we won’t have to rely on the charcoal stove to cook dinner and heat water for eight people for the next three days! This weekend may be classed as a trial run for future tourism endeavours! (Fast forward a few years and Julia’s place has developed in leaps and bounds: home is now known as Sunbird Hill).
Hope has prepared dinner: it’s ‘Irish’ (potatoes) from the garden, and g’nut (groundnut) sauce. The home-grown groundnuts are stored in a gigantic Ali Baba basket. Swimming in my g’nut sauce is a Lungfish, whole. I can’t face eating it and guiltily leave the fish in the pot. The kids found it in the river when they were collecting water this morning – I guess someone will have the stomach for it.
After dinner, a slither of moon to guide us, we check out the park boundary paths. As we inch past, torchlight reveals spiderwebs suspended between branches. We duck under the washing line. The dogs bound ahead of us into the trees.
Freshly broken branches are evidence of a recent elephant visit.
“Wake up, the chimps are here! Come quick!” Yells Julia the following morning.
Bleary-eyed, I climb the viewing platform and we watch a solitary chimp warming himself in the early morning sun some 30 metres above ground. It’s my first sight of a chimpanzee in the wild.
Julia spent many years living in a treehouse deep in the forest studying Kibale Forest’s chimpanzees.
Baby Dillon points at the sweet bananas. He’s eaten four bananas by the time we arrive at the lodge on the edge of Kibale Forest. I’m covered in banana (there’s no chance of keeping clean around dogs and babies). Ornithologist and bird ringer Malcolm Wilson arrives shortly with five visitors, here to do a bird census and to advise Julia on how to maximise the biodiversity to attract more birdlife from the forest.
Before he arrives, we walk down to the forest boundary a few hundred metres away and check the ‘slashing’ (cutting back of the Bush). Four men have been working all morning to clear an access path for the nets.
We stop for a minute to debate whether to cut down a slender branch hanging over the path.
“Don’t touch that,” says Julia, “that’s the National Park.”
We look up, straight into the eyes of a Green Mamba! It’s a message: he is protecting the forest.
I’ve added four new birds to my bird list this morning; I can’t wait to add more over the next two days.
We notice freshly broken branches across our path – “The elephants must be close,” says Julia.
Next installment from Kibale Forest: a ticking off – ringing birds in Kibale Forest
Slumming it, Kampala style
Rubbish collection is managed privately in Kampala: you pay through the nose for a private contractor to collect your rubbish once a week. Local people just burn their rubbish, and maybe that’s all the private contractors do?
And so, a week after moving house, and reluctant to burn, I asked Alex how I could dispose of my rubbish. “Come – we go,” he said.
We drove to Namuwongo and I was a bit horrified when he said to turn down a steep dusty bank across the railway and into the heart of the slum. I’ve been through the slum many times, but not in a car (there are no roads) and not to dispose of my rubbish. We edged our way through women boiling water in beaten-up old aluminium pots on charcoal stoves, gawping toddlers and boda bodas. “Hello Muzungu, you go back,” one lady said as we squeezed through. Embarrassed, but with Alex focused on our destination, we drove on. Moving forward wasn’t easy; reversing would have been almost impossible.
My heart sank as the tip came into view: goats grazing and Marabou storks stabbing at the contents of hundreds of the demon cavera (carrier bags). Doesn’t the slum have enough rubbish without the muzungu’s?
There was plenty of excitement as Alex threw a knackered old water heater onto the tip. It was quickly salvaged; if anyone can fix it, these guys can.
And the fee? One thousand shillings, less than 50 US cents – although the muzungu price would have been higher had we hung about. “Drive!” commanded Alex, and I stepped on the gas.
“Muzungu, I have a tortoise!” cried a young boy, as we drove past his house. Wild tortoises live in the swamp below the slum. I admit, in my first year in Uganda, I fell for that one. I had a tortoise when I was a kid; they’re great pets, but not easy to look after. The English one died in hibernation one winter; my Ugandan one did a runner! He probably made it back to the slum (just the other side of my old compound wall) – to being sold to another naïve muzungu.
Last year I’d been in the same slum for quite a different reason – a party!
VSO friends of mine, Alan and Alison, had agreed to hold a kids’ party in the local church. It’s a big clapperboard type construction right next to the railway line next to the swamp. I’m not a churchgoer but I do like to party! so I offered to help blow up the balloons and do the face painting.
“So how many people do you think will attend?” I thought Alison would say about 100.
“Oh about 400 I expect.” GULP.
The Muzungu’s travel highlights of 2011 – Uganda, Kenya, Rwanda, Ethiopia, South Africa, Turkey!
Travel highlights – from across Uganda, Kenya, Rwanda, South Africa, Ethiopia and Turkey
If 2011 was busy, 2012 looks set to be busier still! Here are a few of 2011’s highlights for Diary of a Muzungu, Uganda travel blog …
Travel to Kenya
The annual Naivasha Relay (84 km from Nairobi to Lake Naivasha) is one of the highlights of Nairobi Hash House Harriers’ calendar.
40 Ugandan Hashers travelled from Kampala to Kenya for the week-end party (I mean run!) I ran my share of tghe relay- 3 km to be exact – ‘good enough’ as we say in UG.
The weekend started with a 12 hour bus journey: The real ‘boda boda’ experience – travelling sidesaddle into Kenya.
Travel across Rwanda
A full day’s travelling by bus across Uganda, through Kigali, and onto the fabulous Volcanoes National Park (Parc Nationale des Virungas) to stay at Le Bambou Gorilla Village in Kinigi.
Rwanda’s reputation precedes it in many positive ways nowadays.
The smooth tarmac in Kigali made a pleasant change from Uganda’s potholes; the legal obligation to wear a helmet on a boda boda (motorbike taxi) in Kigali came as a bit of a shock after Kampala’s very relaxed attitude to road safety!
A flight to South Africa via Nairobi
TIP: next time you fly, look at the map before you select your seat – choose a window seat, check which side of the plane to sit and have your camera ready. Some of my most memorable travel moments of 2011 have been from on high (and I haven’t even joined the Mile High Club yet!)
- Mount Kilimanjaro through the clouds;
- Traversing the seemingly endless azure blue of Lake Malawi;
- Skirting around the edges of Tanzania’s Ngorongoro Crater;
- Seeing volcanoes emerge over the horizon as we approached Nairobi;
- The shot of Kilimanjaro – en route to Johannesburg – is a favourite. Sigh …
Johannesburg, South Africa
U2′s ‘Beautiful Day’ will forever remind me of a great ten days in Johannesburg, with a great friend and her beautiful daughter, and something deeper – retracing my political and musical roots:
South Africa – Under a blood red sky with U2
Thank you Holly! For the trip, for the friendship and for being a part of my journey as a Voluntary Service Overseas volunteer.
Ethiopia
Hashing – the ‘drinking club with a running problem’ – led me on a very merry dance (hic!) around Ethiopia for two truly memorable weeks. I can’t stop reliving and writing about Ethiopia, here’s one of my posts:
Africa Hash, Ethiopia – Feeling IRIE in Addis Ababa
A stopover in Istanbul, Turkey
On a trip back home to the UK, I stopped over in Istanbul for a day. Istanbul looks like my kind of place.
A day in … Istanbul got me thinking about how much I’d like to be travelling and writing about travel full-time.
Travel across Uganda
This year, I was excited to take part in the Uganda Wildlife Authority’s new tourism experience: Walking with Mongooses, a really fun and informative day out in Queen Elizabeth National Park. You may have watched the BBC’s ‘Banded Brothers’ TV series, all about these fascinating fellas.
This year has been a year for:
WRITING – articles for The Eye Magazine Rwanda, Uganda’s Business Today magazine and writing and producing Uganda Matters, the annual newsletter for the Uganda Conservation Foundation.
Diary of a Muzungu has been featuring on Lonely Planet since 2009 (PHEW! no wonder I’m knackered!)
CONNECTING – with published authors, Lonely Planet bloggers and the global travel blogosphere. Thanks in particular to Todd Wassel at Todd’s Wanderings, for the beautiful and fantabulous Around the World with 40 Lonely Planet bloggers ebook; Mazarine Treyz of Wildwoman Fundraising for her boundless creativity and energy; Wandering Trader Marcello Arrambide who dropped by Kampala and shared some awesome tips on travel blogging. Writing and blogging can be an introspective way to spend your spare time – but you guys keep me motivated. Thank you so much!
CHANGING CAREERS – I’ve always said that in Uganda, “business is social and social is business” and I like it that way…
After two and a half years as a VSO volunteer for the Uganda Conservation Foundation, it was time to move on and employ a local man to take over my role. I’m so proud to have been part of UCF (work trips to the Bush – safari yeah!)
Despite the global recession, UCF’s donors continue to support our work with the Uganda Conservation Foundation. The Uganda Wildlife Authority is so pleased with UCF’s work in Queen Elizabeth National Park that UCF is now working with them to tackle poaching and human wildlife conflict in Murchison Falls National Park. (Damn, that’s one trip I missed out on!) As you can see, I still talk about UCF in the present tense and I’ll continue to do as much as I can to promote this fantastic charity.
Life as a VSO volunteer in Uganda has certainly had its ups and downs. It’s been a truly incredible three years so far. I love life in Uganda – but it does sometimes get the better of me:
Shotgun wedding – a surreal and intense day
Here’s a bit more about life as a volunteer in Uganda –
Still counting myself lucky! 2 years on …
So why am I still in Uganda? Here’s one reason – one of my favourite blogs from last year:
Early morning sights and sounds
Happy New Year everyone!