KampalaKampalaKampala!

“KAMPALAKAMPALAKAMPALA!” yelled the Kalita bus attended. At seven A.M. the last thing I needed was an overzealous man in his vest uniform shouting in my ear. I didn’t have time to grab breakfast in-between throwing clothes in a bag for the weekend and I was beginning to seriously regret the oversight before my four-hour ride. I meet up with Ruth and Emerald and we find the last few seats left in the back row as the bus pulls away. (Side note; the Kalitas wont depart if there is even a single open seat. It is not uncommon to see a Kalita waiting around for three hours until they are sufficiently full). Luckily, we had arrived right on time. The purpose of our weekend excursion was to get some work done for the Manna Rescue Home (MRH) but more importantly see my friend Ruth off. She had been in Uganda for three months and is now heading back home to Dublin, Ireland. I am awfully sad she is leaving. Over the last two weeks she has done an amazing job of showing me the ropes around FP. Fortunately, Emerald is back from her vacation and I have a hunch we will get along swimmingly.

We are not even two minutes outside of town and suddenly the bus accelerates to above 90 mph and continues at same rate for the rest of the trip. Fear sets in as we barrel down the single lane highway that connects FP to the capital. We fly by the trail of people walking along the side of the road, literally FEET away from all the children on their way to school. I had heard these things were death machines but now I was beginning to believe the stories. Headlines I had read days earlier of Kalitas driving off mountainsides were stuck in my mind. Just then the sun began to break over the Rwenzoris and flood the bus as “Say Goodbye” by Rika, complete with a childrens orchestra in the background, came on the iPod Emerald and I were sharing. She shoots me a nervous look and we both laugh, certain our lives may be over at any moment.

Half way through the bumpy ride we stop in a small town along the route. Even before the bus has come to a stand still we are swarmed by local venders waiting to pounce on the Kalita hoping to sell their goods. Of course a packed bus full of hungry or bored people is the perfect place to unload their products. I, of course, lean out the window and wait for the most delectable thing I could see, Meat-on-a-stick (beef) and chapati (fried bread). It was arguably the best meal I have had since arriving in Uganda.

Two hours later we arrived in Kampala. It was just as I had remembered from two weeks ago; full of hustle and bustle. Before, I had only grabbed lunch in town on my way from the airport to FP, but now I was excited to finally get the chance to explore the city some more. The city itself is quite large but I was surprised by how few taller buildings there are. A few business offices, International trade centers, and the Ugandan Parliament. Next door to the capital is the national theater, and I promised to myself that I would see one of the famous national dance group proformance next time I was in town.

On Saturday we made our way to the home of a friend of Emeralds who lives in the suburbs of the city. They were throwing a debate-watching party and it was fun to spend the evening with a large group of ex-pats. (I love thinking of my self as an Ex-pat, in my head is sounds so adventurous and exotic). Luckly, everyone was rooting for the same team and loved my Obama shirt. Sarah Palin bingo was also a big hit.

Like many African cities, as I have gathered, Kampala is a fascinating place that is full of juxtapositions. I found it incredibly perplexing to see a full mall, complete with a plastic “ice” skating rink, while across the street you see small children begging for money who obviously seem pretty desperate. The whole city is full of these conflicting images and I found it hard to wrap my head around it at times.

I enjoyed my time in the city, but I was surprised to find myself secretly longing to get back to FP, back to the countryside. While there is plenty of poverty here in FP, plenty of kids who have no home, no food, no one to take care of them, at least here I felt like I could understand it.

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