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 We landed in Entebbe around 12:30 in the afternoon. I was surprised by the small size of the airport; only one main building with a single baggage claim and two desks in the middle of the airport for checking documents. There was very little security at the airport; I only saw a couple soldiers.
Barbara’s friend Robert was there to greet us and take us in his pickup to Kampala where we would stay the night. I understood quickly why Robert chose to drive a truck rather than a car; there are very few roads in and out of Kampala and all of them are filled with potholes and pedestrians that we had to swerve around. I noticed the large number of children walking along the road in various school uniforms. Apparently there are numerous schools in and around Kampala, many of which are boarding schools. The vehicles on the road were very different than those in the US—very few cars and not very many new models. Most vehicles run on diesel fuel, which makes the air seem very polluted. Robert had been suffering from a respiratory infection that seems to be irritated by the car exhaust (which is not surprising given the black color and overwhelming smell). The drive to Kampala took a little over an hour (it would probably been half that time if the roads were better) and we began to look for a hotel.
Each hotel we looked at had a wall surrounding it and guards at the front gate. One of the hotels was swarming with soldiers, which made me extremely nervous. Apparently an important government official was staying in the hotel for a few days on business. We finally found vacancies at the hotel where Barbara had stayed in the past, The Grand Imperial.
The Grand Imperial was very similar to an American hotel; it has air conditioning, a computer and fax room, a restaurant, and the rest of the amenities are very western in taste. It was a nice way to transition into such a different place. Once I had settled in and taken a brief nap we exchanged some of our money from American dollars to Ugandan shillings. I was surprised to find out that there was a better exchange rate for money printed after the year 2000 (and unfortunately for me, I did not have money that was printed that recently). We had some dinner at the restaurant and drank sodas out of glass bottles (which I found rather exciting!). Exhausted and full I slept soundly my first night in Uganda.
June 12, 2007
I awoke around 7 am, showered and packed before heading downstairs to have breakfast with Barbara. In the headlines today was a suicide bombing that happened in Nairobi, Kenya. So my first full day in Africa brought frightening and sad news. Luckily the only person who was killed was the one suspected to be the bomber, although a large number of civilians were injured. As I read the paper a white women came over to me and asked about the headline on my paper. She was horrified because she is from Kenya and in Uganda on business. I let her take my paper because I was finished, and later we exchanged contact information. That seems to be a popular thing to do in Africa: share emails and addresses. I wonder if people actually keep up with these contacts.
Today we were heading for Gulu. We got into the same old truck that had brought us to Kampala but with a different driver, and started our 4 ½ hour journey north. The road to Gulu was just as bumpy and filled with traffic, animals and people as the road in from Entebbe. Frequently, our driver would swerve around cars in front of us that were too slow, or around the multiple potholes. All of this was done on a two lane road with no speed limit or lines. The road is so poorly maintained that in some places the earth on either side seems to be taking over; literally taking bites out of the edges and leaving the road increasingly narrow. What an adventure it was driving at 140 km/hr bumping and swerving; they have no need for roller-coasters here!
Arriving in Gulu, we went straight to the Acholi Inn, which is where Barbara prefers to stay in Uganda. After unloading we rested at a table under a large mango tree, ordered lunch and waited for Barbara’s Ugandan business partner, Joyce Laker. Only moments after we sat down Joyce arrived, arms outstretched as if to greet her long lost family. We chatted as we waited for our food and saw a few mangos fall from the tree. Joyce scooped them up and handed them immediately over to our waiter to have them cleaned and brought back to us. Suddenly we had to rush inside as the skies were about to open up. As it rained, we ate our lunch and were presented with the whole mangos and one extremely large knife. I stared blankly at the knife and mangos unsure how to cut them, so Barbara took a chance. Joyce laughed at the two of us and showed us how to best cut the mango which she ate skin and all.
Joyce took us to her new cultural arts center, which is located just behind the Inn. The building is very old, built in colonial times and was once a club for the British. Joyce and her brother are fixing it up to use as a community center for Acholi arts and culture. They are also building a traditional Acholi home on the land, a tradition which Joyce fears is dying. Before we went to bed, Joyce invited us to her home for tea. Surprisingly, Joyce doesn’t live in a traditional Acholi home, but instead in another old British building: a home from colonial times. Like most of the buildings in Uganda, the windows were all open and unscreened, and the building is modest. The power was out (a very common occurrence), so we drank tea by the light of a gas lamp before going back to the Inn.
June 13, 2007
Today was my first full day in Gulu town. We started the day with breakfast at the Inn¾fresh fruit and coffee. After breakfast we met up with Joyce who took us to the office of the District Chairman, Norbert Mao, who was interested in talking with us about the Paper to Pearls project. He had been called out of town on business, however, so we met with a woman who was taking over in his absence. We sat and talked for a few minutes, and I found her to be very welcoming and very interested in our project.
Joyce decided to take us to the market where we could buy some of the produce we liked and take back to the Inn for our meals (something that would never be done in the US). The market was in the center of town and unlike any I had ever seen. It was cramped and very muddy. The path through the market was like the road, poorly maintained covered in trash and puddles. We squeezed through the area filled with clothing (both traditional African and western) to the area with produce. I could not get over the number of flies surrounding the food and people. Everyone was so used to the flies they did not even bother to shoo them away. Food was laid out on mats on tables and on the ground; all of it was in piles rather than in containers, even the grains. We purchased some mini bananas, sweet potatoes, papayas and avocadoes. Before leaving Joyce went to a butcher and bought a piece of meat hanging in the sun for her own supper.
After bringing the food back to the Inn, we departed for the IDP camps in Joyce’s van. Surprisingly, the road to the camps was much worse than the road from Kampala. I didn’t think it possible! We arrived at Achet camp sore from the bumpy ride and were greeted by the women beaders. They were singing in Luo (the native language) and clapping, which brought children out from behind huts to investigate. The children were excited to see a car in the camp and to see two white people! Despite their curiosity, they kept at a distance. The women took us into a rundown building that had a sign indicating that World Vision had originally built it along with two others. They were buildings used for various activities, but I believe the main purpose was for children’s school. Barbara began interviewing a number of the women, in order to get their individual stories. As she interviewed, Joyce interpreted and the other women worked on their beads. Each women Barbara interviewed told how the project had changed her life. They could now pay for their children’s school fees, eat two meals a day instead of just one, buy clothing, and a few pieces of furniture for their homes. All pleaded with Barbara to continue to buy their necklaces and possibly even find other projects for them to do as well. They wanted to work and better their lives in the camps and when they’re finally able to go home, but know they cannot do it with farming alone. They need a ‘second garden’.
The stories were similar in the second camp we visited, Opit, and the women were just as enthusiastic. As Barbara interviewed, I began to look around me at the conditions of the camp. We were sitting beneath a tree surrounded by little huts. Children in rags and animals ran around. The camp was unlike anything I had seen or smelled. However what really struck me was the attitude of the people. In spite of these conditions, the women sang and danced, the children played and giggled. It was both encouraging and heartbreaking. |
