Transportation in Uganda

Uganda’s roads, mostly dirt, are full of potholes. On the eight hour trek from Kampala to Bushenyi the driver of the bus often swerved to the edge of the road to avoid the bumps -- crazy! There are no city laws and the right of way is determined by the type of car and how big it is. Big vehicles get the most respect (even ahead of pedestrians). There are no stoplights and street lanes are determined by time of day.

My favorite method of transportation is the boda-boda, also known as motorbikes. They are quick in heavy traffic and often operate in areas where there are no taxis. One must be careful though, b/c many of the drivers are not licensed. The common saying is, “They are learning to ride while carrying you. And will disappear as soon as you get in an accident.” I don’t ride them often, but when I do I ask around for one of the better drivers – and wear a crash helmet, of course.

In Kampala the locals travel by mini-buses, 14 seater commuters. They stop every five minutes and wait until the bus fills up again…takes forever to get anywhere, but cheaper than a boda-boda. Posta Buses are good for long treks…Elizabeth and I will take one to Tanzania in August.

Poster in Local Internet Cafe

Girls are like internet-virus;
They will enter your life,
Scan Ur pockets,
Transfer money,
Edit Ur mind,
Download their problems,
Delete your smile
&
Hang u 4ever!!
Get yourself an Anti Virus,
B4 you go out with a lady!

Equator

Photos from the equator! What do you get when crammed in a van for eight hours with four Norwegians, an ill-tempered Brit, two local Ugandan drivers, and a nun?

Ugandan Time

Ugandans do not keep time by a clock; in fact, many in the villages don't even own clocks, watches or cells. They are hard workers, but show up whenever they “get there”. School may start at 8am or 10am, depending on the weather, the roads, the electric; depending on when the parents drop off the children. It's as if Ugandans are allergic to anything permanent or fixed: there are no consistent school books, lessons, laws, meals. (Well, the only thing you can be sure to find at every meal is matooke!) People walk along the single dirt path to church at 9am, 10am, in their Sunday best. I see them walking on my run out of the village and back in again. Most stare at me in my running shorts and hat, but a few wave and say good morning in Runyankore. Everyone is very friendly, if not curious.

Even during my training session, when we were expected to follow the schedule, things started hours later. Lunch was never at 1pm, but often at 2pm or 2:30pm. You learn to carry a book to stay occupied. Restaurants take HOURS to deliver food (unless you tip, of course). As soon as you define anything here, it's a mess, loses importance. Time is an extension of personal relationships.

Internet is very unreliable here. Hopefully once I start work tomorrow at the district office I'll have better access.

View from Guesthouse

Language training takes place at the Lweza Training Center. I'm learning Luganda and USL! There are many similarties between ASL and USL...maybe one word out of ten is different.

Arrived!

I think it's 11pm. Or maybe it's midnight. Who cares?! I'm here after 20 hours on three planes. My taxi driver was thirty minutes late (Ugandan's don't have a sense of "being on time") and smoked the whole way to the hotel, with all the windows down. The breeze was lovely after being in a plane all day. A few pics of views from guest house.

En Route to Uganda

Not an end because there was never a beginning, just her at a window watching foriegn planes take off, wings glistening in the sunlight. On the otherside of the world, in a dark bedroom, a mobile lights up injured words. Then darkness again, and she trembles to think of the self coming next, the self she might evolve into despite her resistance.