An Essay on Ugandan Transportation

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Study on Ugandan Transportation:

An Outsider’s Perspective

The following is a look into the different means of getting oneself from one location to another in Uganda. Some of these options are unique to the country, some to East Africa. While other options are a bit more familiar. The purpose of this essay is to give the reader a perspective into Ugandans daily lives through their use of transportation.

If safety is your main concern, as it is often mine considering what I have seen since arriving in this country, then walking is simply the way to go. Sure, everything seems to be really far from where you are but hey, it’s good for you! Or so I keep telling myself as I wonder down endless dirt roads on foot cursing the heat and the sweat that inevitably builds on the forehead. It wouldn’t be so bad if the lorries wouldn’t blow past you kicking up small dust storms that seems to immediately attract to that sweat covered forehead. And that’s the dry season. If you choose to hit the pavement during the wet season you undoubtedly arrive at your destination drenched to the bone. It doesn’t matter if it was perfectly sunny and pleasant when you left. You’ll be regretting your decision to walk when you get to wherever it was that you were going. Here, the clouds have a habit of sneaking up on you. As a result, walking scores a low 3 on the official scale of safety ratings. I should mention the scale ranges from 1 to 10. 1 being the equivalent to staying in bed all-day and 10 is catching a ride home from George W. Bush on Saturday night before he discovered Jesus. I would have given walking a 1 had it not been for the fact that I have twisted my ankle twice on the gorges that open up in the dirt roads after a longer period of heavy rain. For this, I add a point for each twisted ankle.

The next logical step is riding a bicycle. For the locals this also seems to be a popular mode of transportation. However, its common use is not limited to only carrying one passenger. Often, you will see two, maybe even three, people struggling to straddle any vertical surface they can find on the bike. Moreover, it’s perfectly ordinary to see the bicycle with no rider at all. Rather, the two-wheeled contraption has been used for an entirely different purpose all together. People will strap whatever is that they need to move onto the bike and push it along the road. This approach is used to transport everything from bunches of bananas, to sheet metal, to a full set of lawn furniture including a wooden bench and two matching lawn chairs. I secretly imagine that somewhere there is a contest to see who can use their bike to carry the most bizarre item. I think they guy with the pregnant goat strapped to his bike rack is in the lead. Because it is a relatively safe activity but still those on bikes are forced to share the road with other soon to be mentioned types of transportation I also give bicycling a safety rating of 3. I too flirted with the idea of buying a bike to save time and money. But gave it up after a day; too many hills.


Next, we have the notorious Boda-Boda. I truly have a love/hate relationship with these tiny motorcycles. I would categorize them as dirt-bikes but that would be an affront to the bikes of the motocross variety. Rather, these motorcycles are really the next step up from the mopad. The size of their engines usually ranges around 700CCs and seem to be relatively fuel-efficient. Like the tuck-tucks in Tanzania my roommates and I surmised that they were named after the sound their small engines make. Instead, we found out, the name derives from the days following the end of Idi Amen’s rule when peace was reached with Uganda’s neighbors. The country’s infrastructure was in such disarray that there lacked a means of getting people or things from one side of the country to the other. As a result the popularity of these small motorcycles skyrocketed because it was the only available form of transportation from border to border. As a result, they started calling them border-borders or boda-bodas. However, when describing a boda ride my roommates and I still like to make the sound, “bodabodabodabodabodaboda.” The great thing about bodas is that they are everywhere. It’s an easy business to start; all you need is, well, a motorcycle. So, without many other opportunities for young males - many choose to go into the wonderful world of Bodabodaing. Resulting in an over crowded market. Ha, I know my economics would come in handy some day! I guestimate the ratio to be seven bodas for every one passenger and lines of idle drivers can always be seen around town. The other upside is that the vast number of them keeps the prices low. Making it a cheap form of transportation. While they may always be accessible and easy they are also unbelievably dangerous. For one, there are no helmets involved (Hmm, I think I just heard my mother yelling from the other side of the world). They also always seem to be a in a rush. While I’ll be the first to admit that one should always aim to be prompt, I just don’t see the need to weave in and out of traffic, with inches to spare, just to get me somewhere quickly. The best place to observe this phenomenon is Kampala. To take a boda ride in downtown Kampala is to take your life into yours, and more specifically, the boda drivers hands. To say it is a jarring experience for a green tourist just off the plane is a gross understatement. I wasn’t in the country for more then two hours before my driver quite nearly introduced me to the metal grill of a lorry barreling down the street. But the most dangerous time to take a boda is at night on (insert you any day of the week) when coming back from the bars. Chances are your boda-driver has knocked back just as many drinks as you have. The following are some helpful signs your man is sober enough to jump onto the back of his motorcycle. A, He is still standing. B, when discussing the cost tries to over-charge you (right now this is a good sign) and then can coherently bargain down to a more fare price. Or C, the best sign, he is wearing a Muslim cap. Because just about every horrific story my friend Joe, an American surgeon at a local hospital, told me about somehow involved a boda accident I give them a safety rating of 8. Which probably explains why most volunteer programs including the Peace Corps strictly forbid their participants from ever taking bodas.

SUVs seem to be mandatory for all NGOs. Everyone’s got ’em, and if you don’t, then you’re just not one of the cool NGOs. We don’t have one, but I bet if we did we would get to hangout with all the big international non-profits. Whatever, I don’t even like UNICF anyway! They are, however, very handy during the rainy season when most roads are inaccessible to everything else. We attempted to navigate one of these roads once in Trish’s van when we should have taken an SUV. After a particularly slippery stretch Trish announced, “By the way, I haven’t had control of the van for the last mile.” I give SUVs a safety rating of 2.

The Matatus, while less common in FP, are still a good alternative to taking a boda. Albeit, the chances your driver is drunk are just as high. They are privately owned shared vans that act like buses back home, in the sense that both smell and have predetermined destinations. Days to avoid the Matatus are when everyone is coming from or going to the weekly market. Should you mistakenly find yourself on a matatu during these times you may also find a chicken between your legs pecking at your thighs or possibly a cows head laying on the seat next to you. Because they are somewhat organized and therefore a bit more safe they get a rating of 5. I swear though, if one more Matatu says, “oh we’re going there too” (which is false) just to get me in the van, I am going to dock them a point!

At the risk of just sounding dramatic, if I had to describe the Kalita experience in three words i would have to say near - death - experience. Now, Kalita is the name of a company that runs buses around western Uganda but wherever you go in East Africa it is the same experience. They are overcrowded and relatively inexpensive. And aside from flying they are the only practical means of transportation between cities and countries. They are always full because they don’t leave until every there is a butt in every seat. It’s a bit like waiting next to an open seat on an airplane hoping that every person walking down aisle will continue pass you. But, there is never any winners in this game on the bus. To continue their assault on your sense, they almost always have either African Pop-music or cheesy movies playing at full volume. In Uganda the movies are either Nigerian dramas or American war movies and both are dubbed over. During one unfortunate trip back from Kampala Emerald and I accidentally sat under a speaker during a showing of Eagle Force (a terrible action B-flix) which has constant gun fire throughout the entire film. Half way through it we were hoping someone would shoot us. At least the eardrum numbing music helps take your mind off the fact that the bus is careening around turns in the mountain road. All you can do is pray that isn’t a lorry coming from the opposite direction on the next turn. Kalitas, get a 9.

Just as the Lion is the undisputed king of the jungle, the lorry is the king of the road. After all, the right-of-way pecking order is based on who is bigger then who and the Lorry is biggest. While i have never used a lorry , it seems to be a good way to transport both food or people. Apparently, they can be a life saver if you are stuck in the middle of Tanzania and need to hitch hike. Emerald and Julia spent 15 hours squished behind the seats of a lorry after it rescued them from a disabled bus that wasn't going anywhere. They were picked up by two Rwandan drivers who brought them all the way to Dar es Salaam. Lorry still like to show everyone who is boss though. I give the Lorry a 5 as well, because there is nothing more starting then walking down a lonesome road by yourself when all of a sudden a horn is blasting in your ear. Now the proper thing to do when in such a situation is dive for the enbankment that line all the roads here. Because, afterall, the lorry slows for no one...

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Photos

Pushing Tin
A boy i crossed in the road using his bike for something other then riding

Matatu
Shared van with specific destinations

Water Cans
It's amazing how much they can fit on a truck

Lorry, King of the Road
Keep an eye for these guys while walking