Hangin' with Shann in Kampala

I crossed the equator and arrived in Kampala by midday. I went with some friends from Czech to the Kasubi Tombs - a lasting remnant of one of only three African empires. One of the Ugandan King's hundred-some-odd kids gave us a tour. Eventually, I checked into Jjajja Gwen's Guesthouse inside the Mengo Hospital where my friend Shannon was already living.

Kampala is a clean and pleasant city by my new African standards. The city sprawls over a set of rolling hills providing nice urban scenery - though it is often obscured by a smog of misty pollution. The people of Uganda are genuine and so far very welcoming, the common man's mastery of English is the best I've seen in Africa. It is enjoyable to be mzungu here - everybody seems to want a white friend as opposed to a white dole out. When people stare at whitey it seems to be out of a curious inclination, and it is not even faintly predatory. Sometimes it seems like Ugandans want mazungu around in a capacity similar to a pet. Ugandans make some of the first African food which I've really taken too: the chipata - a flat bread cooked in oil on a metal skillet served with choice of egg and lots of fresh vegetable fixings. I have started to eat nearly ten a day. Loving Uganda!

I accompanied Shann to work at the Early Response Center of the Mengo Hospital. The kids were really quite lovely and it was fun to witness their dancing, singing, and laughter. My strong impression is that Shann and her coworker Jen have been a good influence here and that the kids love them to death. Their job is clearly not all fun and games, and working in an African social-political environment is clearly sometimes frustrating. I shared in their frustration when I watched the head of the home kick an autistic child and lead the children in a prayer for god to change him. A crazy environment in which to live and work.

A lasting impression of Kampala is the traffic. The minibuses aren't loaded quite as full as in other places but the passenger can take no addition comfort given the chaos of Uganda's streets. Motorbikes have been fairly rare throughout my travels but in eastern Africa they are everywhere. Many motorbike drivers don't even look before crossing into opposing traffic, and they indiscriminately drive on sidewalks and in the oncoming lane. Helmets, if worn at all are old and used and the patchy repair work with Styrofoam and duct tape are testament to their good use. I've heard the majority of drivers are unlicensed and most are "self taught" ie. they just start driving one day. Drivers pass cars unless they can actually see a reason not to - so a blind corner or large hill is a green light to pass. I have witnessed several collisions and numerous overturned trucks on the roadside including a gas tanker. Kampala - a city of 1.4 million - has only 7 traffic lights.

I must admit that Shann has found herself in a very agreeable spot overlooking this beautiful but chaotic city. Momma Rolph, I attest that your daughter is safe, healthy, appears to be extremely happy, and is keeping good company of those I met. We went to a Korean restaurant in Kampala which felt out of place but was really fantastic. A good reconnection, and it was nice to see each other through fresh perspectives which travel so often provides.