Be part of something BIG!
The Uganda Kob and the Grey Crested Crane adorn the country’s crest – (which bird will replace it in 20 years time when the bird is extinct?)
“Birding@50” focuses on the plight of Uganda’s national symbol, the Grey Crowned Crane.
While the country has been (for the most part) celebrating 50 years of independence, Uganda’s national symbol is in crisis. The Grey Crowned Crane is under serious threat as her wetlands habitats are polluted, eroded, degraded and built upon. Human development is swallowing up the wetlands.
Left unchallenged, the Crane will not survive, and it is estimated that the Grey Crowned (or ‘Crested’) Crane will be extinct in Uganda within just 20 years.
Ironically, the fact that Cranes are monogamous birds that pair for life is one of the factors pushing them towards extinction. Some people hold the traditional belief that eating or using a Crane product will therefore strengthen their own relationship.
NatureUganda is leading the campaign to save the Crane.
We urge individuals and the authorities to protect the wetlands. We need people to ask themselves “when did you last see a young or adult Crane? Do you see them as often now as you did when you were a child?”
It is no coincidence that as humans encroach upon the wetlands, the number of Cranes has plummeted across the country.
NatureUganda’s Achilles Byaruhanga tells us more about this sensational bird in The Crested Crane: Uganda’s symbol of beauty and serenity
So why am I talking about this?
It’s because this Saturday 20th October will be BIG BIRDING DAY 2012!
BBD is a country-wide “big birding race” between birding groups, led by experienced bird guides, who will aim to record as many bird species as possible in a single 24 hour period.
NatureUganda has 47 teams registered so far, across the country. More teams are registering, making this the biggest BBD ever!
There’s free entry for all participants birding in National Parks, Wildlife Reserves and Forest Reserves – but you need to register with NatureUganda first.
The results of the BBD race will be announced during the Big Birding festival on Saturday 27th October 2012 at Entebbe Botanic Gardens. See poster for more details!
The importance of Birds
Despite the large number of birds in Uganda – almost half the continent’s species – very few Ugandans are aware of the country’s rich diversity. The “Uganda Big Birding Day” helps promote avi-conservation and avi-tourism – bird conservation and tourism or ‘birding.’ Although avi-tourism is developing in Uganda, very few locals take part – yet! More trained bird guides are needed!
If you like birds, you might enjoy some of my other stories about birding in Uganda.
Check out all these lovely FREE events! Big Birding Day Uganda 2012
50 reasons why I love Uganda
As one of the shiny new fighter jets flies over my house, no doubt practising for this Tuesday’s independence day fly-past, I’m mulling over the week-end papers, full of stories about Uganda@50 and what the last 50 years of independence have meant to Uganda. Is the country better or worse off as an independent nation? What does the future hold? Will the celebrations be hijacked by anti-government protesters? Will there be tears before bedtime?
I’m no expert on Ugandan politics (although the muzungu is very proud of her politics degree from SOAS) – so let’s leave the analysis to the pundits and have some fun.
So, to celebrate the 50th anniversary of independence, I thought I’d share with you my top 50 reasons why I Love Uganda.
1. Airtime. Everywhere you go, every shop, bar or street corner can sell you mobile phone credit, for as little as 200 Uganda shillings (a few cents or pennies).
2. Boda boda. There are 100,000 of these motorbike taxis in Kampala. Huge fun but use with extreme caution. Don’t expect them to hang around if you have an accident. Read How to ride a boda boda.
3. Birds, birds birds. I LOVE BIRDS! And Uganda has over 1000 species: pretty, beautiful, stunning, huge, noisy, elegant, comical, graceful, they’re all here.
4. Bus Journeys. Hmmm am I crazy? Frankly, any bus journey could be your last but one of my favourite memories is taking a bus from Kasese down to Butogota. 10,000 shillings for a free Safari as we drove down through Maramagambo Forest sighting elephants. Ahh.
5. Cappuccino. I love Ugandan coffee, just don’t serve me Star coffee powder!
6. Chimps at Ngamba Island. I fell in love with the hilarious chimps.
7. Dancing. Africans invented dance! Try keeping me off the dancefloor.
8. Dogs – ‘the boys’ Baldrick and Percy. These recycled street dogs light up my day. Always happy to see me, following me around until I give them what they want – food and a chance to escape the compound and chase a goat.
9. Driving in Kampala. Yes the traffic is a nightmare, yes the potholes wreck your car, but there’s something quite liberating about driving through this city at times. Careering over the wrong side of the road to dodge potholes can be fun, let’s be honest!
10. Dung Beetles rock!
11. Elephants brought me to Uganda. (Yeah I know, most people would just get on a plane!)
12. Food menus. Guaranteed entertainment. A menu is simply a guide to what may possibly be available at one given point in time. It does not reflect what is actually in the kitchen.
13. Fruit and vegetables. Huge, fresh, tasty and cheap.
14. Gorillas. I enjoyed the trek through the rainforest as much as meeting Bwindi’s Gentle Giants.
15. Grasshoppers taste greasy and smoky (best dry fried in chilli I’m told).
16. Greetings! I love the time and care Ugandans take to greet each other properly.
17. The Grey Crowned Crane – previously known as the Crested Crane – is Uganda’s iconic national symbol. The Crested Crane may well be extinct in Uganda within just 20 years, if degradation of the wetlands is not stopped. NatureUganda is leading the campaign to Save the Crane.
18. Jane Bussman is a British comedy writer campaigning to have Joseph Kony, leader of the LRA, caught. She’s on the ball and she’s hilarious.
19. Jinja, Source of the Nile, interesting colonial architecture, a market that is less congested than Kampala’s – and location for some memorable weekends at Nile River Camp.
20. Kampala Hash House Harriers have taken me to every bar, club – and slum! – across Kampala. The ‘drinking club with a running problem’ meets every Monday night.
21. Kibale Forest is where my friend Julia calls home, ideally at the top of a tree!
22. Lake Victoria. The world’s second largest freshwater lake – and the largest on the African continent – is where we taught our dogs to swim. Even as my feet crunched onto the tiny snails on the lake bed, I seem to have so far avoided Bilharzia! Can dogs catch it too?
23. Lions. Breathtaking – and a lot bigger in real life!
24. Mongooses experience in Queen Elizabeth National Park.
25. Mount Elgon. An unexpected wilderness experience, we climbed through seven habitats in four days and passed only two other groups of people. Would I do it again? Yes. Would I climb Margherita in the Rwenzori’s? One day maybe, but not without getting a LOT fitter first …
26. Muchomo roasted meat. No ‘gizzards’ (entrails) for me. I’m an occasional “chicken on a stick” woman.
27. Mighty Murchison Falls. Isn’t it annoying when you’ve heard the hype about a place then feel disappointed when you get there? GUARANTEE: I promise you won’t be disappointed when you reach the top of the Falls! Read Stirring up magic at the Devil’s Cauldron, Murchison Falls.
28. Music booming out from the church on Sunday morning can drive you to distraction. I love Ugandan music – but I have no idea what I’m singing along to! 😂
29. Namuwongo. Once maligned as a no-go area of Kampala (I found out after living there for a year), I love Namuwongo. Squashed between the industrial area and smarter Muyenga, it’s where I first fell in love with Uganda.
30. Owino market has everything you could ever want to buy, but it’s hard work.
31. Power cuts can drive you crazy. But the romance of candlelight has its moments!
32. River Nile. “Bring it on!” I screamed on my first Grade 5 white water rafting expedition. Second time around, I invited a friend to take my place; third time rafting, and I bailed out as the biggest rapids approached! Feeling nervous, learning to trust your guide, screaming with laughter as you successfully (or not!) negotiate the rapids, you’ll certainly never forget a day on the Nile.
33. Rolex or ‘rolled eggs’ – an omelette rolled up in a chapati – is my favourite street food. Bigger than a snack, although no self respecting Ugandan could possibly call a rolex a meal (since that should be served on a plate at a table). Rolex taste best at midnight in Kabalagala on the way home from a bar 😄
Trveor Noah gets his rolex fix (allegedly) in Wandegeya, Kampala
Read The rolex: celebrating Uganda’s uniqueness.
34. Safari. Every Safari is different. To say that you have “done X Park” when you visited for a day or two just doesn’t make sense. I can’t get enough game drives!
35. Sense of humour. Ugandans can charm the pants off you. Difficult situations tend to be dealt with humour (so refreshing after living in London where people quickly resort to shouting and swearing).
36. Simpson. My ‘Ugandan brother‘ has been with me through thick and thin (in fact he became very thin when he was a student, going without food so he could afford the fare to university). He’s my hero! I have a front seat at his graduation. I’m so proud of him.
37. Smoking. Oh yes. Cigarettes are cheap and we spend most of our time outside. No stuffy rules to worry us!
38. Snakes. Would I like to find one in my shower? No, but they do fascinate me.
39. Sunrise and Sunset. A reason to get up early – and later, a reason to have a drink in your hand 🍹
40. Tilapia. Best eaten whole, with your hands, on the lake edge at Ggaba.
41. Totems. Having the Ugandan name ‘Nagawa’ – thanks to my friend Rashid – has been a huge icebreaker. It’s given me hours of fun. This name makes me a member of the Nkima red tailed monkey clan. What an honour.
42. Uganda Conservation Foundation. Anti-poaching and human wildlife conflict – a.k.a. anything to do with elephants – is the mission of UCF, whom I volunteered with for nearly three years.
43. Uganda Museum. Dusty and under resourced, the Museum is still a gem. I’ve fallen for its charms.
44. Uganda souvenir photo map. This fun project keeps my creative heart thumping.
45. Uganda Waragi is a triple distilled ‘war gin.’ Handbag size bottles available ladies 😉
46. Uglish. Otherwise known as Ugandan English, this language gives us – expats and Ugandans alike – endless laughs. I tried to keep a straight face when Janero told me he had “pregnanted his girlfriend.” To read more funny examples, check out the superb Uglish Facebook page
47. UWEC Uganda Wildlife Education Centre (once Entebbe Zoo) has a cafe overlooking the beach. It’s quite a view! You can see virtually all of Uganda’s big mammals and reptiles at UWEC.
48. Vultures may be ugly but our health depends on them. Fascinating!
49. Weather. Even when it rains, the sun comes out a few minutes later.
50. Writing Diary of a Muzungu has kept me distracted (when Ugandan TV couldn’t) and kept me sane (kind of!) when life hasn’t gone to plan. Thank you so much to everyone who reads this. You make the late nights and the missed week-ends all worthwhile.
50 reasons why I love Uganda – and I could have found more! So tell me what would be in your top 50 things you love about Uganda?
– I know my Ugandan friends will scream MATOKE! (steamed green banana – compulsory eating for many!)
A disgusting day out
Looking for things to do around Kampala?
NatureUganda is a member organisation that organises affordable birdwatching trips around the country and researches numerous species, mainly birds.
Visiting the abattoir might not be top of every vegetarian’s wish list, but that didn’t stop two vegetarians from looking forward to a day out at the slaughterhouse, as part of Nature Uganda‘s annual vulture count. Interested in taking part?
Our gory tour took us to the very smelly outdoor Busega fish factory; the tidy, rustic Kyengera Abattoir and the formidable Kalerwe Abattoir, on the look-out for Hooded Vultures, Pied Crows, Brown Kites and Marabou Storks.
The annual Nature Uganda vulture count takes you to glamorous locations such as abattoirs! Here Marabou Storks congregate off Port Bell Road, Kampala
“I tried not to look at the blood and guts around me and looked down – and narrowly avoided stepping on a cow’s brain!” Said Alex the vegetarian. Not the most glamorous of day’s out for us ladies, tiptoeing around pools of dark red blood seeping into Kalerwe’s thick oozing mud…
My Nature Uganda friend Roger had painted a grim picture of last year’s annual vulture count – but I couldn’t wait to experience the horror for myself!
Living in Uganda has desensitised me to the horrors of the meat trade. A vegetarian since the age of 13, it was learning about the UK’s concrete and metal ‘factory farms’ that turned me off meat, overnight. In the UK we’re as far removed from the slaughter process as could possibly be (it’s hard to reconcile the surgical cleanliness of the plastic-wrapped portions of meat in the supermarket with the reality of what happens to the animal in the slaughterhouse). Here in Uganda, it’s back to basics: blood, guts and all.
Heaps of (cow) body parts wherever we looked in Kalerwe Abattoir, Kampala – why can’t the Chinese make ornaments and medicines out of this lot and leave Africa’s rhino and elephants alone?
So why were we putting ourselves through this?
Vultures aren’t the world’s prettiest birds – that characteristic bald head helps keep the head clean when feeding on a carcass – but they (and the Marabou Storks) are arguably the most useful, and need to be protected.
Populations of the eleven species of African vulture have declined considerably. Threats vary, but include poisoning, loss of habitat, trapping for food and witchcraft.
Vultures are nature’s most successful scavengers. Known by some as ‘Superman of the bird world,’ vultures can eat Anthrax (without dying) and quickly dispose of diseased carcasses (without catching the disease) – and no other animal will eat their carcass.
In the past decade, hundreds of vultures have been accidentally killed across East Africa after consuming poisoned animals set to kill lions and hyenas which had attacked livestock. Vultures are also intentionally poisoned by poachers because the presence of circling vultures alerts wildlife authorities to the location of poachers’ illegal activities.
Hooded Vulture soaring above Kampala. PHOTO Achilles Byaruhanga
Three Hooded Vultures, Kampala. PHOTO Veena Naik
In a recent incident, 48 vultures were poisoned near the Ishasha River on the Congo border, their bodies found scattered along a path heading back to Queen Elizabeth National Park.
In Kenya, vulture numbers in the Maasai Mara National Reserve have declined by an average of 62% since the 1970s. Vultures have some of the lowest reproductive rates among birds, making them particularly vulnerable. A decade ago none of Kenya’s eight vulture species was on the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species; now 6 out of 8 species are on the Red List, with populations declining at an alarming rate.
Information on Kenyan vultures edited from Summit to save Africa’s vulture populations from extinction on ‘African Raptors‘.
Hammerkop getting in on the act! Huge numbers of Marabou Storks overseeing the fish processing near Nateete, Kampala
So how is the demise of this ugly old bird linked to human health?
Following a decimation of the vulture numbers in India, there’s been an increase in disease transmission among dogs and rats. The subsequent increase in dogs and rabies is blamed for an estimated human health costs of $1.5 billion a year. If vulture numbers continue to decline in Kampala, what might be the impact on the residents of the city?
Too hot to trot! Nothing goes to waste here …molokony (cow hoof) is a popular hangover cure
Back at the abattoir, the authorities were suspicious of the muzungu wandering around with a camera – all except this guy: “You take my picture” he said.
My idea of hell – but just another day at work for this guy
Once beyond the understandably suspicious questions “are you from the Ministry of Health?” people seemed quite interested in what we were doing. Someone offered to feed the birds for us (for a fee). Another guy asked if we could solve the problem of the Marabous shitting on (and therefore destroying) his zinc roof!
At Kyengera, the unmistakable smell of burning flesh led us by the nose down to a shack where a whole cow’s head sat roasting on an open fire. For 500 shillings (the cost of two chapatis) I was invited to take a photo – or (just for laughs!) pose with the man stoking the fire and roasting the head – somehow that just seemed one step too far.
Aren’t you glad I didn’t take that last photo?
The species: in order of population size, Uganda has the following Vultures: White-backed, Hooded, Ruppell’s, Palm Nut, Lappet-faced, White-headed and Egyptian.
To learn more about the Kampala vulture counts, and other activities, visit the Nature Uganda web site.
If you like birds, check out the muzungu‘s Birds page for lots more Ugandan birding stories!
Look up! Urban birding Kampala-style
The view from Long Crested Towers, Kampala
Kampala is a dusty, polluted city of 2 million inhabitants. The crowded industrial area slap bang in the centre of town, sits cheek by jowl with a slum of 100,000 people and a creaking and inadequate sewage system pours filth into nearby Lake Victoria. Drainage channels (for the country’s voluminous heavy rains) are the preferred waste disposal solution for many a Kampala household.
Originally on seven hills, the capital’s urban sprawl now covers at least three times that many hills now, the city’s population nurtured by rapid and increased urbanisation and the world’s 3rd highest birth rate.
But for all this, Kampala is still a birder’s dream with over 300 species. Forest birds, such as Black and White Casqued Hornbills, nest in a few remaining large trees in the city environs and Palmnut Vultures nest overlooking the golf course in the middle of the city.
I work in the centre of the capital and live in Bukasa, just 4 miles outside town – or less, as the Pied Crow flies. To many Kampalans, I may as well live in De Bush!
You can set your watch by the sound of the early morning birdsong in Uganda, more or less constant throughout the year, thanks to the country’s position on the Equator. The Woodland Kingfisher wakes me at 5.30 am sharp, very sharp; its shrill call forces my head off the pillow.
Great and Long Tailed Cormorants, Cattle and Little Egrets, Marabou Storks and Pink Backed Pelicans fly south towards the lake from their roosting site atop a statuesque hardwood Mvule tree in the middle of Kyangoga slum. They’re joined by the occasional Grey-Crowned Crane, Uganda’s most elegant national symbol. Usually seen in pairs, these Cranes mate for life, a commitment which, irony of all ironies, makes their eggs highly prized as wedding gifts – or so the urban myth goes. The Crane is further highly threatened due to destruction of its wetland habitat for conversion to farmland and agriculture (Uganda is a predominantly subsistence economy).
Iridescent Ruppell’s Starlings chuckle and scold from atop the water tank, swooping down to the garden tap to drink. Northern Grey-headed Sparrows pick at the crumbs left by the dogs and Red-billed firefinches bob in and out of the Bougainvillea. The hullaballo of a giant Eastern Grey Plantain Eater makes me look up as we pass under the electricity wire by the gate.
An early morning stroll with the dogs takes me along dusty marram roads towards Lake Victoria, a sea of Papyrus (and the inevitable construction sites) separating us from the men in dugout canoes fishing for Tilapia.
Kampala is a huge building site. Banana plantations and cassava plots metamorphose overnight. Over the past three years, we’ve frequently had to double back on ourselves when confronted by yet another new fence, a wall or a pile of freshly-baked red bricks.
And yet, turn a corner, and you’re back in the village, with ducks at your feet and a herd of cows slowly ambling past you.
The dogs scamper through the rough bush next to the house, inevitably picking up ticks left by grazing livestock. Cows are a status symbol in Uganda; the more you own, the greater respect you command. The dogs’ ticks can balloon to juicy fat currants before I notice them (where are the Oxpeckers when you need them?)
An African Open-Billed Stork, picking over the freshly hoed earth for snails, flies off at the sight of the dogs. A pair of Hadada Ibis cackle comically overhead – (no chance of a lie-in once these guys land on your roof).
A White-browed Coucal watches us from its perch on a termite mound.
Further down the track, en route to Port Bell fish landing site on Lake Victoria, we watch Hooded Vultures and Marabou Storks jostle for pickings amongst a big pile of fresh slaughtered pig heads at the open-air abattoir next to the railway track. The enormous Marabou Stork has a wing span of over two metres and is a frequent flier over Kampala. They can clean up faster than the City council: every day an estimated 10,000 of these scavengers (the largest known colony in the world) clean up 1-2 tons of the capital’s rubbish.
As the day warms up, we double back across the scrub, home to Long Crested Towers.*
A Long-Crested Eagle watched me from a telegraph post when I first viewed my new house; I took it as a good sign. No looking back – only up 😉
*With a nod to one of my conservation heros, Gerald Durrell.
This post was originally written for David Lindo, the Urban Birder. He says “It’s estimated that by 2050 at least 75% of humankind will be living in cities. Many of us never leave our city environments. But within our sprawling cities there is birdlife to be found — sometimes in surprising abundance. If we open our eyes, look up and listen it will make itself known to us. What we have to do is learn how to appreciate the nature on our doorsteps and then we will fully understand the importance of worldwide conservation.”
David has a few Urban Birding tips to get you started:
- Look up
- Ignore people — see buildings as cliffs and mountainsides
- Have as your mantra: “Anything can turn up anywhere at any time”
- Enjoy yourself!
Thanks David for the inspiration and the words of encouragement!
If you like birds, check out the muzungu‘s Birds page for lots more Ugandan birding stories!
Down in the slum, after the rain
A glimpse of life in Namuwongo ‘go down’ along Kampala’s railway track
Marabou Storks along the railway line in Kampala. Photo Achilles Byaruhanga, www.NatureUganda.org
The air is damp and heavy, the air is cool and last week’s fine, dusty marram earth is compacted beneath our feet. Limbs have been torn off the Pawpaw tree the other side of the compound wall and a single giant leaf, over four metres long, has been torn off the Palm tree. It lies there on the grass looking pathetic, no longer the majestic bough waving in the breeze.
It’s rained hard for the last two days. It’s a blessed relief for us all, although Baldrick’s been curled up in a tight ball on the doormat; he lives outside and the cold has got into his bones. He thinks nothing of stretching out in the sun in the heat of the day for hours: my Ugandan dog.
I decide to take advantage of the cool morning to go for a long walk and we take the short route down the path onto the railway line. It’s a sea of mud and empty cavera carrier bags. Water runs freely and collects in greenish grey puddles suffocated with plastic rubbish. The ducks are caked in mud and oil and the giant Marabou Storks peer down at us from atop the rubbish dumps.
I pick my way up and down the smooth marram pathway that winds its way between the makeshift shacks and public latrines. Here, all life happens out in the open, either side of the path: women deep fry cassava in big open woks just a foot from the main path. Children sit on dirty wooden benches next to open charcoal stoves, surrounded by plastic basins of washing-up, giant beaten aluminium pots of beans and converted oil drums brewing god knows what.
A man wants me to buy smoked dried fish.
“Salina ssente” I say – “I don’t have any money” – unwilling to open my bag in an area I don’t know and glad I won’t have to buy these fish that are covered in flies.
Two women hold a large piece of tripe over a bucket, one of them sawing it into two pieces. Muddy ‘Irish’ potatoes spill out of a sack onto the piles of black shiny charcoal.
To see a muzungu down in the slum must be quite unusual and I don’t hear the same number of greetings I get elsewhere. When I do speak, I’m aware many people don’t speak Luganda; many are refugees from northern Uganda or even further afield, South Sudan.
Wherever they’re from, the children still speak as one of course: “muzungu-how-are-you?” comes the chorus.
This is one of many walks that have taken me through the slum. It’s as fascinating as it is grim.
I used to live a stone’s throw away from Namuwongo ‘go down.’ The noise from the shanty town along the railway tracks was a constant backdrop to my life. I miss it. Here’s more about the terrible effects of the heavy rains on life in the slum
I was embarrassed recently to dispose my rubbish in Namuwongo slum.
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
Still counting myself lucky! 2 years on …
As I stumble home through the craters of Tarmac, alternately blinded by oncoming motorbikes and plunged into darkness, thanks to yet another power cut (who knows how long for this time) I count myself lucky: for the last two and a half years as a volunteer, I’ve essentially worked from home in a quiet, controlled environment. I haven’t had to fight through the dust and the traffic every morning, sit on stuffy public taxis or risk being pulled over by hungry Traffic Police on the way to work. I’ve been able to (mostly) get on with my job (give or take electricity / internet connection / resources!) Eva mops the floor, makes the bed and does the shopping – it’s therefore no surprise I’ve become fat!
I haven’t had to visit patients in the slum whose pathetic makeshift houses flood every time it rains. One medic friend told me how one of his patients (sick with HIV and tuberculosis) had turds floating through his home when he last visited. There’s no such thing as a bed base, just a foam mattress, which absorbs whatever enters into his house. As a visitor, hospitality dictates that you take the seat you are offered.
Need I say more?
The view over my compound wall. Namuwongo ‘go down’ by railway Kampala
One day, I don’t know when, I’ll miss the sounds of human activity from beyond our compound that connects my sometimes isolated life to the real world. The music and the drums, the screams of babies and a hammering of tin mabati roofs can annoy me though. As for the man who slowly pushes a frozen food container along on his bicycle, up and down the railway track, every afternoon to the sound of Greensleeves played on his cheap Chinese speakers; I can’t say I’ll miss him – but I’ll never forget him. He always seems to come at that moment in the afternoon when we’re all feeling lethargic or trying to rework that crucial bit of a funding proposal.
It’s only 8.15 pm but it’s pitch black and I’m exhausted after a late-night working and a few Waragis (local gins).
I’ve been bitten to buggery this evening.
I’m often aware of how easy my life has been here in Kampala. Simon, a VSO doctor, tells us of the clinic he’s trying to develop in Lira, Northern Uganda. You expect to hear about a lack of resources and a lack of facilities. There is no question of them having any medicines – that’s not such a surprise either. But, you would think the hospital might have some stock of sutures (stitches) and surgical gloves. So, if you need a Caesarean section, the deal is this: you go to the hospital, are given a shopping list and you then nip to the shops and buy your sutures, gloves etc. Sometimes people come back an hour or two later with the wrong items – at which point they are sent back to the shops. Needless to say, many babies – and their mothers – simply die.
Last week I gave blood to help a seven-year-old boy who was very sick with Sickle Cell Anaemia. It’s the first time I’ve ever known anything about the person who receives my donation. The urgent plea for donations came from a nurse Diane, another VSO. The urgent request came because the blood bank had said they didn’t have any the right type of blood left. An official letter had been written, e-mails were sent and favours were asked. By the time we arrived at the blood bank, they said they had plenty in stock! I don’t know how I would cope with this kind of bureaucracy and lack of communication on such a crucial issue. We’ve had plenty of setbacks at UCF, but to have to physically run between buildings on different sides of the city, when you have very sick people in your care, I think I would have gone berserk.
On a personal note, however, I was delighted to get through the blood screening straightaway, no longer anaemic (for the first time here in Uganda). The diet of iron tablets and the occasional bit of stringy chicken are obviously working!
Link to my blog ‘Count yourself lucky’ written exactly two years ago.
Justice in the balancing act – Owino Market Kampala
Owino Market (St Balikuddembe) and the surrounding markets in downtown Kampala have more clothes than I’ve ever seen in my life. Imagine London’s Oxford Street, Petticoat Lane, the biggest Marks and Spencer you can find and Primark: take everything off the shelves, pile it high in neatly folded layers or mountainous heaps; remove the roof, take away the flooring and replace it with a fractured and muddy uneven mess; run some sewers through it. Condense this into some dark passageways where it is almost impossible for one person to pass – let alone for one person to pass, one to sell and another one to try on jeans – turn off the lights, fill it with more people carrying suitcases of goods on their heads; and then perhaps you can start imagining Owino. How our friend Alan came shopping here with three young girls quite amazes me!
So, well over her luggage allowance and having already purchased one excess bag for her flight home, Nat had talked herself into needing even more clothes to return to the UK with.
I needed some new clothes; I’ve put on far too much weight to fit into most of the clothes I brought with me two years ago. As someone said to me before I arrived in Uganda: “women go to Africa and put on weight. Men lose it.” And some!
There are serious bargains to be had at Owino if you’re prepared for the constant calls of “muzungu-how-are-you?” and the haggling. It’s persistent but mostly fair and a firm “No” is usually enough before you get sidetracked by the next sellers. The occasional “Sagala” (I don’t want it) from me generally stops people in their tracks, unaccustomed to hearing Luganda from a muzungu. You should hear the howls of laughter!
Nat caused quite a stir in her own right: every third or fourth man was trying to call out to her or touch her arm as we went past… “Is she your daughter?” They asked me. Humph.
Two hours of incident-free shopping behind us, we emerged into a sunlit area of the market to buy ice cold water and I spotted a ruddy faced lady selling sheets stacked high above our heads. One of the luxury items I brought back to Uganda was a duvet. My English friends back home scoffed at the idea – but they haven’t experienced a cool Ugandan night.
The lady didn’t seem to speak any English and wasn’t at all personable (unlike most of the other people in the market) but we agreed a reasonable 18,000 shillings (£6) for a duvet cover, a fraction of the 65,000 an earlier seller had asked for one. As I handed over the 50,000 note, I sensed something wasn’t right.
These valuable – & therefore rare – notes are much cleaner than the rest
Wary of being pick pocketed, I’d carefully stashed notes in various pockets of the handbag that I always have strapped to me. I knew exactly where the 50,000 note was – few ever pass through this volunteer’s hands! – and I can picture its distinct brown colour as the lady briefly disappeared behind the tower of sheets to get ‘the balance.’
“Where’s the other 10,000?” I asked without hesitation as she offered me change of a 20,000 note.
I wasn’t having any of it. She was trying to say something to me but I was adamant. I’d given her 50,000 shillings and I wanted 32,000 balance.
Her (apparent) lack of English meant other people quickly took over the argument, all taking her side and questioning my memory and my knowledge of the local currency. Within minutes ten men were arguing with me, insisting I’d made a mistake. I kept my calm, I didn’t accuse anybody but I was completely sure I’d passed over a 50,000 shilling note, so was Nat.
“All I’m saying is someone’s made a mistake” I insisted.
Ugandans love to argue and they love to stand around and watch, for hours on end so we were soon in the middle of a blazing row, watched from all sides, everyone keen to have their say. “We’re not getting anywhere here” Nat said after about ten minutes. I muttered something about contacting the police, hoping that somebody might back down but it didn’t seem to make a difference.
“So what are you going to do?” Someone asked as we prepared to walk off.
“What can I do? I am one person and you are 30.” I fumed.
Ooh I’m still cross about it now!
I handed back the duvet cover and the lady gave me the bright red 20,000 shilling note that she insisted I’d given her.
A hundred metre walk away, lo and behold we stumbled upon the police station! Nat and I exchanged looks and before we knew it we were inside the station filing a complaint. What were we getting into now though? And how much of the day were we about to lose? What would VSO say? Was I doing the right thing or about to cause a load more trouble for myself? Would this spiral out of control and end up in court or a plea for school fees that would exceed the amount that I was out of pocket?
With all these questions going through my head, we were quickly ushered in to make our complaint and within five minutes we were making our way back through the market, accompanied by three armed policeman. O god, no backing out now!
The ruddy faced lady was still there. The main protagonist in the argument looked surprised to see us again. Ha! But nothing changed. We had the same arguments all over again as the police listened to both sides. The market sellers’ rep chimed in too this time. I was 100% sure that I was right but I was careful not to call anyone a thief; I hoped I was offering them a way out.
Another ten fruitless minutes passed. The crowd grew, arms folded, all staring (you become immune to it).
Back at the tiny two room police station, I was surprised to be led straight to the chief, a senior policeman in his 50s. I greeted him in Luganda and he smiled from behind his big desk. He was very charming and held court over the assembled group of ten people seated either side of him on narrow wooden benches.
I wondered what the chief was thinking as he asked how long I’d been in Uganda and what I’m doing here. The questioning carried on around me in Luganda and I just had to trust that justice would be done.
Mid-questioning, someone walked past and unlocked the metal gate to the cell five feet to my left.
I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that this was all going terribly wrong. Who was being thrown in the cell – me or the lady I was trying so hard not to accuse?
“We have never seen this lady in here before” he said “and since you both insist you’re not mistaken, perhaps you’d consider a compromise?” (This kind of situation must happen all the time).
With the negotiations over, and an agreement to buy the duvet cover which (perhaps surprisingly) I did still want, ‘the balance’ was down to me. (OK OK it still riles me but at least I didn’t get a bill for school fees!)
I handed the boss a 20,000 shilling note. As he passed it through the bars of the window to a boy in the street to get balance, I cried out in mock horror “Oh no! It’s starting all over again!”
There was a pause before one person laughed and the others quickly reassured me “No, no, it’s ok we know him.”
“I was joking,” I said, relieved to be on my way.
Grasshoppers back on the menu!
Yet grasshoppers are quite a delicacy in Uganda. Last week, we experienced a biblical moment as clouds of grasshoppers flew above our heads as we ran through the banana groves. (So that’s what a plague of locusts must look like!) I kept my mouth shut just in case a grasshopper …
In the Old Taxi Park Kampala, with Diary of a Muzungu
It feels like the middle of the night but it’s just 9 p.m. in the Old Taxi Park. Commuters are standing in line patiently until a taxi arrives and then it’s a free for all. No chicken on my lap for this journey at least.We pass the boys selling chapatti, their wooden glass cabinets on the front of their bicycles lit up by a candle. The journey home is thankfully quick. I’m tired and I ache all over after yesterday’s 10 km race (part of the MTN Marathon).
muzungu runners MTN Marathon 10km
Half of Kampala turns out every year to run the annual MTN marathon. Not everyone is happy to wear yellow though (as it happens to be the colour of the ruling NRM political party too).
Today’s ‘recovery run’ at the Hash was hard work; I just didn’t have it in me.
As I limp home the last few hundred metres (hark at me, I’ve only got a blister!) I see dozens of cars parked either side of Namuwongo Road, where normally there are none. Thirty or more people are gathered outside the front of a house. And then I remember seeing the funeral services car outside the same house this morning.
I hear the sound of singing and notice the bowed heads.
A blog from last year was Grasshoppers – eat them or smoke them? Discuss.
On a Mission(ary) – remembering the Muzungu’s first Christmas in Uganda
An expat Christmas in Kampala
It hardly befitted common (misconceived) notions of the starving in Africa: there was marquee after marquee of food.
I’ve never seen so much food in my life, honestly.
The buffet was immense.
Here I am ‘busy saving the world’ – apparently – spending my first Christmas in Africa and we’re all wasting platefuls of food. I was quite disgusted at how many rich Ugandans piled their plates high with food and didn’t eat more than a few spoonfuls of it.
Christmas Day buffet Speke Resort Kampala – that’s a lot of food – and this was just one of many marquees …
Speke Resort Munyonyo is where we impoverished volunteers had decided to blow our December allowance. Living on a volunteer allowance means you end up eating the same food, day in day out. This one day feasting at Speke Resort more than made up for the penny pinching! (How my belly hurts just remembering my repeat trips to the various marquees!)
Despite the country’s obsession with cows, cheese remains an imported delicacy in Uganda
There was a double marquee of Ugandan food, another of international food including various pastas.
There was a small marquee dedicated to Chinese stirfry!
Seafood – a whole table of it – never before seen in Kampala (not by a volunteer at least!)
Another marquee was full of cheese – CHEESE! in Uganda! – which was mostly plasticky and a bit foul to be honest; but of course, that didn’t stop me eating far too much.
The last marquee I visited had a massive cake. I’ve actually been inside a REAL Ugandan church the same size as this one (but the roof didn’t taste so sweet and lovely).
Christmas cake Speke Resort. Yes, I’m holding two plates… two plates x several visits to the various marquees = way, way too greedy, I confess
Christmas in Kampala was fun – apart from the bloody weather. It started drizzling the moment we arrived at Speke Resort. It didn’t stop raining until the next day as we packed our bags into the car to leave! So much for making use of the fantastic (almost Olympic) swimming pool.
“This is the last time I spend the Bank Holiday with you!” I teased Cheryl (we had previously spent a very wet week-end at Lake Bunyonyi at Easter). Is she the Wet Weather Omen?
Twenty of us VSO volunteers and families had a poolside table booked … so we could watch the rain come down… it seemed, rather than enjoy sunbathing and swimming, as planned.
Bedraggled Christmas Day staff at the fantastic Speke Resort, Munyonyo on Lake Victoria, Kampala
Christmas Eve was spent fumigating the kitchen cupboards: “Oh how festive!” you cry.
And so onto my first Kampala New Year’s celebrations…
“There’s not enough sex on your blog” was the feedback on last year’s blogging – and that was just from the family!
So, not wanting to besmirch the family reputation, out I went on New Year’s Eve … on a Mission.
The evening started with a few drinks with fellow VSO volunteers Jo and Liam and pharmacist friend Cheryl, at her accommodation in Nsambya hospital.
In the bathroom, Cheryl’s ‘new housemate’ Gerald nearly steals the show! With antennae of at least an inch long, wiggling at me from underneath the hand basin, I don’t hang about to see how long his fearful body must be. [In my first year living in Uganda. I had an obsession: with cockroaches].
En route to (miscellaneous) Kampala nightclubs, we pass the nuns as we walk down through the hospital to catch the boda bodas into town. The traffic is hell: dust, pollution, vehicles everywhere, everyone in a hurry to go to church, return to the village or simply GO PARTY.
Steamed matooke: no Ugandan meal is complete without the famous green banana
I was too busy dancing at midnight to see the fireworks.
Typical Uganda, it was several minutes after midnight that our countdown to the New Year started…
Was it the Full Moon or was it the tequilla? Long awaited moment with a Certain Someone was but a blur and I woke up the next day wondering if I’d dreamed it all…
It’s not easy being a single woman in Kampala: the social life is fantastic but where are all the single men?
The Dutchman is married, the Ugandan has a girlfriend, the Congolese guy is cute but has terrible breath … I get upset sometimes but tell myself “at least I have Baldrick.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Last night I decided to laugh about it.
OK so repeat after me: “I just came to Uganda to volunteer, I was not expecting you to kill me with food” – did they really think there would be room for a hefty slab of bread and butter pudding on top of several marquees of savoury dishes?
So where will you be this Christmas?
And will you save me some bread and butter pudding?
Prizes for my “indigenous mix” and my first 10k race
Baldrick, star of the USPCA Dog Show in Kampala!
From the gutter to the Kabira Country Club, what a true star my mutt Baldrick is – and what a fantastic advert for the work of the USPCA, the Uganda Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.
Found as a pup drowning in a ditch, Baldrick Superdog came First in the Dog with the Waggiest Tail competition at this year’s USPCA Dog Show and third overall on the day! Check out the photos here.
Baldrick Superdog came First in the Dog with the Waggiest Tail competition at the USPCA dog show
Hilarious.
The Dog Show was a fundraising day for the USPCA, held at the Kabira Country Club, a very smart hotel in Kampala and not somewhere this volunteer can normally afford to go. So, not only does this dog have his heights set high, he’s opening doors for me too!
He’s a proper mongrel or “indigenous mix” in vet-speak.
Update on dog poisoning
It turns out that the five dogs who died last month were poisoned by posho (maize) porridge that they’d been eating every day. Tests reveal the posho had a fungus in it, fatal to dogs. Posho is a staple for many Ugandans; it’s a cheap bland stodge. The infected posho gave the dogs liver damage. Apparently it doesn’t affect humans, not that I’m ever likely to get a liking for posho. Ugh.
Promoting the Uganda Conservation Foundation
This week my UCF colleague Patrick and I drove round Kampala to ‘reinvigorate the membership’ (visiting our corporate supporters), now we have our newsletter to hand out and bundles of Xmas cards to sell. I’m in my comfort zone now and have sold 600 Xmas cards this week. It feels great to bring some cash into the organisation. There’ll be more challenges ahead in the office in the New Year but I’m happy to near the end of the year on a positive note.
If you’d like to help me support UCF please click on the Justgiving link. It’s why I’m in Uganda after all. I’m incredibly lucky to have this experience, although it’s not always easy.
Driving round Kampala
On our Kampala errands, there was a scary moment when I entered the British High Commission on Kira Road. Like a spaceship that’s landed on a foreign planet, this building – the security in particular – seem so terribly incongruous here in Kampala.
High point of the day was bumping into a handsome Ugandan friend of mine. He’s bending over backwards to do me all kinds of favours. Swoon. What else can a girl ask for?
Now I’m getting excited about my trip to see a great friend of mine Holly in South Africa, the Rainbow Nation. This time next week, touch down Johannesburg! Three weeks of sun, wine and the sea. Bliss!
It’s the rainy season here in Uganda (the radio forecast “a cold 23 degrees in Kampala”), wine is very expensive (but I’m getting used to the Tetrapak of Spanish plonk!) and the only seafood is frozen (and way out of the price range of a VSO volunteer’s allowance)… so those are all reasons why I can’t wait to go to South Africa and blowing most of my savings to get there.
Delighted to say I’m hoping to earn next year’s travel expenses via Lonely Planet now I’ve been accepted as one of their regular bloggers. Rock on!
But before that – tomorrow – I have to run my first 10 km race.
Running, Hashing and the World Cup in Africa
The main event is the Kampala Marathon and we’re all sponsored by MTN, the main mobile phone provider, also sponsor of the 2010 World Cup to be held in South Africa. The World Cup is going to be HUGE for Africa. Ugandans are crazy about football, Premier League in particular. Men line the streets of Namuwongo outside bars and restaurants, 10 people deep when a game is on, glued to the TV screen. (No question of anyone buying a drink though!)
Everyone has a favourite team and Ugandans know the players as intimately as we do in the UK. Ugandans actually talk about the football though, not the WAGs, the haircuts and the sponsorship deals …
I’m in Uganda courtesy of VSO who recruit, train and support 1500 volunteers a year in developing countries. We are teachers, doctors, nurses, physiotherapists, speech therapists, marketing and business development professionals, IT trainers and a whole lot more. Our remit is to ‘share skills,’ building an organisation’s capacity to develop and be sustainable when we return home.
“The cheque’s in the post ….” apparently
How you deal with a trip to Kampala Road Post Office is a good indicator of how you’re getting to grips with life in Uganda.
My weekly disappointment. Isn’t a postbox supposed to contain letters? Postboxes at Kampala Road Post Office
Off to the Post Office in the morning to see whether I have any birthday cards (29th September). I have absolutely no illusions about getting any cards or letters (even though I know some have been posted!) Any I do receive will be a bonus with bloody bells on. Here’s how my trips to the post office go:
Kampala Road Post Office WEEK 1: slight disappointment
“Where’s the letter I’m expecting? Oh well, post must take a while to get to Uganda from the UK …”
Kampala Road Post Office WEEK 2: resigned disappointment
“VSO have told me to learn to be patient, so I must be. At least I have some post to look forward to when I come next week.”
Kampala Road Post Office WEEK 3: real disappointment
“What?! I don’t believe it. It’s taken me nearly an hour to get here and still nothing in the postbox.”
Kampala Road Post Office WEEK 4: real disappointment
“For God’s sake, this is starting to annoy me! Dad’s going to be so disappointed I haven’t received his letters.”
Kampala Road Post Office WEEK 5: frustration
“Bollocks. I forgot the post box key.”
Kampala Road Post Office WEEK 6: excitement
“I just know there’s definitely something in there for me!”
Kampala Road Post Office WEEK 7: anticipation .. followed by confusion .. followed by disappointment
“But …? Damn I should have known … oh well, it’ll turn up eventually.”
A very happy volunteer. Isla opens welcome post – and chocolate!! – sent from friends in the UK
Well I gave up checking the Kampala Road post box months ago but some tips are:
- Write URGENT: EDUCATIONAL MATERIALS on the package
- Write “with God’s speed” or similar (apparently this works!)
- Ask me when I next have someone coming over from the UK (nowhere near as much fun but success guaranteed!)
- The best mail address for me is c/o VSO (VSO staff apparently check the post box every day and I can walk up the hill to collect it rather than go into the – only – post office in town).
- OK just send me an email then!
“Not for dumping” SNIGGER. The box for incorrectly addressed mail inside Kampala Road Post Office Uganda
Birthdays often engender a bit of navel-gazing.
As I settle into my new life in Uganda, find myself asking:
- Would I have been happier living in a mud hut in the forest with no electricity and no running water?
- Do I really want to play netball ever again? A friend talked me into joining a team at a local community centre. (I was crap first time around).
- Why did I buy a tortoise?
See you soon for the answers to some of those questions.
