'Anika sounds Ugandan; welcome to Uganda'

Hi there!

Right now I’m sitting on the terrace on the roof of the guesthouse I’ve been staying at since my arrival in Kampala last Sunday. I’ve just gotten back from the Government of South Sudan (GoSS) Liaison Office, where I’ve gotten a so-called Blue Pass. This document allows me to stay in South Sudan for the next two-and-a-half months. For a country that is not even independent yet, it is already similar to for instance the Netherlands regarding the filling out of forms and the amount of stamps I required. But having finally taking care of my permit to stay in Juba, I now have the time to post a lengthier update about my exploits in Kampala the last few days. Oh, and of course to post some pictures as well, because without those my descriptions don’t do any justice to the people of Uganda and the craziness that is Kampala.

The flight itself to Entebbe Airport was all right. After the departure at Brussels, we made a stop of an hour at Charles de Gaulle, Paris, before flying straight to the airport of Addis Ababa in Ethiopia. Ethiopian Airlines has the policy to ensure its flight attendants receive a complete meal every four hours, which in practice meant I’ve gotten more food during my flight then I generally eat on a single day. At Addis I had to wait for four hours before departing towards Entebbe. Upon my arrival at Entebbe Airport, the realization hit I had truly arrived in subtropical Africa. While the airport of Addis and the surrounding area slightly reminded me of the airport of Madrid and the landscape of Spain – dry yellow and brown plains with bits of green in between – Entebbe Airport looked tropical. Palm trees, other sorts of tropical plants and tall wavy grass everywhere. It felt tropical as well, but the heat is something you get used to very quickly.

At my arrival I had to get my visa in order to be able to stay in Uganda. Together with a couple of dozen Asians I had to wait in que, before I had to appear at the desk of a Ugandan Immigration Officer. The title of this blog is actually a quote from the Immigration Officer. She asked me whether I or family of mine had lived in Uganda before. When I asked why, the answer was that Anika sounded rather Ugandan. I must say that Ugandan people pronounce my name (which is actually Swedish) a lot better than English or American people generally do.

At Entebbe, the taxi driver from ICCO picked me up and brought me to the ICUganda Service Center Guesthouse (ICU guesthouse for short). During the ride you already discover how different an African capital is from Western capitals such as London, Amsterdam or even Athens for that matter. Palm trees, tropical plants and grass is everywhere. Houses are made of wood or some sort of concrete, and look more like improvised huts than anything else. This remains the same until you reach the city center of Kampala, though within the part where my guesthouse is located houses generally are made from concrete or bricks and resemble small but nice cottages. Uphill is there is a children’s daycare centre. A couple of times while I had been reading on the terrace children would either stand on the hill across the guesthouse waving at me and once two girls went up to the gate asking if they could say hello. I made their day when I took a picture of them.

The guesthouse is brilliant. It’s located in the south-western part of Kampala, quite close to the city centre. It’s run by some very friendly people, such as Rebecca who’s always there when you need something, who cooks a marvelous dinner and bakes pancakes every morning for breakfast. And there is Bosco, who’s basically the handyman of the guesthouse and whose tasks range from preparing the barbeque on the terrace to guarding the gate to taking care of the daily little jobs that need to be done around the guesthouse. Currently, a couple of Dutch students and PhD candidates are staying at the guesthouse as well. While Kampala is easy to get used to, the familiarity of having people around you who are in a similar position and who can show you around is certainly helpful. The past few days I’ve spent most of my evenings up at our terrace with most of the people staying here, just chatting about the daily experiences.

Kampala is a city of contrasts. There is a contrast between the outer parts of the city, where everything is green, and the city centre, which is completely filled with buildings, traffic and masses of people. But there is also a contrast between the rich and the poor, which is noticeable at all levels and all parts of town. The guesthouse for instance is surrounded by tropical plants, flowers and similar well-build cottages. Though, when you walk down the road to the roundabout where some small shops are located as well as the taxi and boda boda pickup to the city centre, you already come across the poor wooden huts people either life in or maintain a small shop in (ranging from fruit/vegetable to mobile phone to furniture shops). In contrast, the uptown part of the city centre consists of luxury hotels, banks, shopping malls, governmental buildings and a huge golf course in the middle of the centre. On Monday, I went out for dinner in one of the more fancy parts of Kampala with a group of Dutch students. We went to a Japanese restaurant, which basically served food from all across the globe. It was a beautiful place, but right next to it stood an empty rundown building. Broken or rundown buildings you see everywhere in the city centre – whether it be uptown or downtown - most of them empty, but some function as buildings where shops or cheap hotels and guesthouses are located in. The downtown part of the centre is the part where the masses of people move around through streets full of small shops selling almost literally everything, where it is always noisy, you occasionally can find beggars sitting in the middle of the pavement (if there is one) and where there is a constant traffic jam or people drive around like they’re absolutely crazy.

By now I’ve ventured five times into the downtown part. Partly just to explore, but also because I needed a new power supply cable for my laptop (I managed to leave mine back home). I must say I managed to find my way rather quickly and I’ve found downtown Kampala to be quite likeable. It’s rather easy manoeuvring around in Kampala, despite the fact it is very crowded and you are a woman with blond hair and blue eyes like me (which is a rare thing in downtown Kampala). Walking around there I’ve felt quite safe, despite the recent unrest in the country that is slowly finding its way to Kampala. Currently, Uganda is in the international news because of the ‘walk-to-work’ protests that are being held by the political opposition. They protest against the increasing oil prices and current government. In Kampala, the unrest is not largely visible yet and contains itself thus far to some of the slums.

The only thing I had to get used to is the amount males asking you how you are and where you’re going. All you need to do is to reply you’re fine, ask how they are and move on. I’ve found out that when you talk to people, whether it is a police officer or a taxi driver, they always wanted to know where you're from and whether I liked Kampala. Though I did have one discussion with a taxi driver who asked me why it was so easy for me to come to Uganda, while it is so difficult for Africans to come to Europe. I responded it has to do with European politics, on which the driver replied that Europe is afraid Africa will overrun our markets and use all European wealth. What can I say? It’s quite logical Europe is being perceived that way, due to economic protectionism and strict immigration policies. Thankfully, he found my answer that nowadays things are rather complicated, even for Europeans, satisfying.

When you need to travel through Kampala, you either take a taxi bus or the boda boda – cheap motorcycles that look like they’ve seen worse (which they probably have). Still, they are quite fast and the drivers have some amazing skills when making impossible turns and waving through the chaotic traffic. The times I needed to go to the city centre, I’ve taken the taxi busses. During rides I’ve gotten quite some stares from small children who are not used to having white people sitting next to them in public transport. If you wave and smile at them they either become shy or don’t stop waving back. When I had to visit the ICCO Regional Office and when I had to pick up my permit I made use of the boda boda. The boda boda rides are really fun. I really liked the way my driver weaved through the traffic (and understood how the traffic works in the first place), along with the wind in my face and the sound of an engine. Some of the pictures are taken when I was actually driving through the city. When I arrive in Juba, one of the first things I’ll have to take care off is getting a designated boda driver.

Due to the fact I had forgotten the power supply cable of my laptop I haven’t been able to get much done on my thesis. The theoretical framework is getting along, but slower as I would have liked. Thus far I’m still healthy and thankfully the mosquitoes do not seem to be very attracted to me. Hopefully that will stay the same in Juba. I’ll find out tomorrow I suppose :).

Love,

Anika


Ps. Dutchies are welcome to reply in Dutch if you like ^^)