Goodbye Uganda I will miss you but not your traffic

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My last few weeks in Uganda were relatively uneventful. I spent most of my time the same as I spent the previous two months, working, reading, going to gym, watching movies, etc… The difference between this routine and having the same general routine in the States is in the details. I had been meaning to write about some issues that I faced while in Kampala and am going to touch on them in this entry as it is my last that will be specifically and only dedicated to Uganda.

This is going to sound as if I am only complaining about issues living there, which is not accurate- I had an amazing time. It’s just that living in NYC for the past two years and before always having a car at my disposal I was completely spoiled by how easy and painless transport was… my transport woes are my major beef with Kampala…

TRANSPORTATION

1. Matatus, small white mini-buses equipped with drivers that I am convinced need to fail their drivers test in order to operate one
2. Boda bodas are motorcycle taxis, e.g. motorcycles with a small seat back attached with tape or rubber hose to the back of the seat, some drivers have helmets, most do not, the passengers always ride sans helmet
3. Taxis, yellow taxis and special hire or illegal taxis, e.g. unmarked. The safest and most comfortable way to travel but also very slow during rush hour and expensive, they can cost from 5 to 10 US$ to get from here to there and that’s not an exaggerated figure
4. Car, those lucky few who have vehicles can ignore the smog and traffic and enjoy their A/C and music while ignoring the disaster that is rush hour happening outside the windows - even luckier are the ones with drivers so they really do not have to deal with it all

My first few weeks I was terrified of the boda bodas and vowed to stay off of them, well two weeks of matatus later and countless hours wasted in traffic jams I took the plunge. I have to say it was not all that bad, although I was fully aware of how dangerous they are and that I was effectively taking my life into my hands each time. After some time I set some rules which to convince myself they were safer

First Rule: Only take a proper motorcycle, not a piecemeal motorbike with scotch tape (literally) holding parts together.

Second Rule: Sit to the side instead of straddling so your legs hang to the left and face the curb.

Third Rule: Insist the driver stay next to the curb, to not weave through traffic under any circumstances, so if necessary I could leap off in case of impending accident.

Before anyone reprimands me for this, I never had or witnessed an accident, always insisted the driver take side roads so there were less cars to be concerned with, and try and spend two and half months in Kampala without a car and try to go anywhere during rush hour and not pull your hair out, unless you’re on a boda boda that is. The various transport options are only aggravated by the traffic…

TRAFFIC

1. There are two traffic lights in Kampala that can be assumed to be there for decoration because I never once saw either in operation.

Kampala was not built to handle the amount of cars, matatus and boda bodas on the roads. It was some of the worst traffic I have ever seen, I mean not necessarily because of total number of cars on the road but rather because the roads are two few and too small to handle the traffic. It was so bad in the mornings that leaving your home thirty minutes later than recommended could add an hour onto your commute. For example, while I was in Tank Hill if I left at 7:30 or before for work I could arrive via taxi in about 15 minutes, however leaving even a couple minutes later I was looking at a taxi ride that at a minimum would take 45 minutes.

Transportation and traffic were the two most frustrating parts of Kampala, everything else from grocery shopping to working to socializing (although I did not socialize much) was nice, no complaints. In fact there were so many conveniences available that at times you could forget you were in Africa.

One of the things I will remember most about Uganda is now nice, extremely nice, the people are. They are some of the most polite people, I never once heard a Ugandan openly bad-mouth a colleague- not to say it does not occur but I never heard anything. People were so nice in fact that I dare say it was preventative in the workplace. What I mean is that during every meeting or presentation there is some unwritten rule that everyone has to spend at least five, often it seemed more like ten, minutes thanking everyone for coming, thanking them for their input, hard work, etc, etc… this is a nice formality but when you have an hour meeting scheduled and it lasts three wherein most of the time is taken up by formalities. It was something that took me a few weeks to grow accustomed to but as time passed I started taking a few minutes before each meeting thanking everyone as well.

My time in Uganda was an experience, the most time I have spent in Africa and in one city by myself in more time than I can seem to remember. Some regrets are that I did not take advantage of the city more, meet more people, and make more of an effort. Overall I will remember those months fondly I only wish I was able to spend more time in the field as my week in Arua was the best time I had while there, as it gave me a chance to see more of how Uganda really is and not just city life.

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