If you ask us: how is Uganda? Our instinctive answer is green, all
shades of green. If you ask us how are the people here? The answer is
very friendly. There is kind of good vibe in this country. All we
knew about it before our arrival was: it had one of the most cruel
and paranoid dictator in the 70s – Idi Amin, portrayed in the
hollywood movie – the Last King of Scotland; a devastating civil
war in the 80s, fought by indoctrinated children soldiers; and very
recent news – Uganda is getting increasingly involved in the armed
conflict in its Northern neighbour - South Sudan. This was not very
comforting. We also knew Uganda through my acquaintance from Brussels
– Eva Valle, who for many years has been raising the funds for a
charity providing schooling and shelter for street children in
Kampala. She's been the only one (in our circle) who knew Uganda and
actually was very positive about it.
From the beginning of our Ugandan stay we started getting convinced that we should rather share Eva's enthusiasm, instead of despair stemming from the press. We came on an evening flight from Dar-Es-Salaam to be greeted by the most friendly customs officer that we've ever met (the fact that he is congenial, unfortunately did not prevent him from charging us 50 USD for a visa). We also found out that the national language is ... English (we never fully understood is English is official or not, but most of the people speak it on top of their 'native' tribal language). The airport seemed tidy and well-organised, the road to the capital Kampala was in a good state.
The day after we had a number of things to sort out in Kampala and we quickly realised that in this super-jammed city the best way to move around is on a boda-boda, i.e. a motorbike taxi. Does not sound bad, however, there is one drawback - conforming with any safety rules is clearly at the bottom of boda boda drivers' concerns list, not only they willingly take three people on one regular two person seat, but they hardly ever wear, let alone offer a helmet; the first conversation between a safety conscious Ieva and the driver was like that: Ieva: OK, let's go, but where is the helmet? Driver: Helmet Madam, I've never ridden a bike with a helmet! Ieva: That's too bad, I've never ridden a bike without a helmet! On the streets of Kampala the high adrenaline dose is guaranteed, even if you don't use boda-bodas – the roads are crammed with hundreds of 12 seater minbus 'taxis', which in a constant zig-zag move forward at a snail pace in an ever ending traffic jam; all around the zig-zaging taxis are thousands of boda-bodas, slaloming their way ahead of the zig-zaging taxis. And then, there are tens of thousands of people, walking on the sides of the streets (most of the time there are no pavements), or weaving their way through this vehicle rodeo, in desperate attempts to get on the other side of the street. I admit, crossing the street has never been so stressful.
Kampala is a never ending string of shanty towns, low houses and all kind of little shops and workshops, the streets go up and down (sometimes very steeply) as the landscape is full of hills. The city centre is situated in a valley, so you can imagine how polluted it gets with all this stagnant traffic. Actually, after a half an hour boda-boda drive the eyes were full of tears from dust and other irritating particles. We were wondering how many cigarettes we would need to smoke to get the same intake of particles after spending half of the day on Kampala's roads. In spite of all that, Kampala feels safe and friendly, in the city centre the people sit and chat in cafes as in Southern Europe. If you forget about the pollution, the climate is excellent, never too hot, never too cold, with just right humidity level, which makes the country so green, and all this in spite of the fact that Kampala is almost on the Equator. This is because Kampala, as most of Uganda lays more than 1000 meteres above the sea level.
From the beginning of our Ugandan stay we started getting convinced that we should rather share Eva's enthusiasm, instead of despair stemming from the press. We came on an evening flight from Dar-Es-Salaam to be greeted by the most friendly customs officer that we've ever met (the fact that he is congenial, unfortunately did not prevent him from charging us 50 USD for a visa). We also found out that the national language is ... English (we never fully understood is English is official or not, but most of the people speak it on top of their 'native' tribal language). The airport seemed tidy and well-organised, the road to the capital Kampala was in a good state.
The day after we had a number of things to sort out in Kampala and we quickly realised that in this super-jammed city the best way to move around is on a boda-boda, i.e. a motorbike taxi. Does not sound bad, however, there is one drawback - conforming with any safety rules is clearly at the bottom of boda boda drivers' concerns list, not only they willingly take three people on one regular two person seat, but they hardly ever wear, let alone offer a helmet; the first conversation between a safety conscious Ieva and the driver was like that: Ieva: OK, let's go, but where is the helmet? Driver: Helmet Madam, I've never ridden a bike with a helmet! Ieva: That's too bad, I've never ridden a bike without a helmet! On the streets of Kampala the high adrenaline dose is guaranteed, even if you don't use boda-bodas – the roads are crammed with hundreds of 12 seater minbus 'taxis', which in a constant zig-zag move forward at a snail pace in an ever ending traffic jam; all around the zig-zaging taxis are thousands of boda-bodas, slaloming their way ahead of the zig-zaging taxis. And then, there are tens of thousands of people, walking on the sides of the streets (most of the time there are no pavements), or weaving their way through this vehicle rodeo, in desperate attempts to get on the other side of the street. I admit, crossing the street has never been so stressful.
Kampala is a never ending string of shanty towns, low houses and all kind of little shops and workshops, the streets go up and down (sometimes very steeply) as the landscape is full of hills. The city centre is situated in a valley, so you can imagine how polluted it gets with all this stagnant traffic. Actually, after a half an hour boda-boda drive the eyes were full of tears from dust and other irritating particles. We were wondering how many cigarettes we would need to smoke to get the same intake of particles after spending half of the day on Kampala's roads. In spite of all that, Kampala feels safe and friendly, in the city centre the people sit and chat in cafes as in Southern Europe. If you forget about the pollution, the climate is excellent, never too hot, never too cold, with just right humidity level, which makes the country so green, and all this in spite of the fact that Kampala is almost on the Equator. This is because Kampala, as most of Uganda lays more than 1000 meteres above the sea level.
It gets busy on Kampala's markets
Apparently boda-boda is quite enjoyable
Which taxi goes to Butabika?
Would you like a fresh Tilapia, sir ...?
... if you eat-in Marabou storks also want their share!
The travel by bus gets hardcorish, sometimes
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