It's a small world after all

It's a small world that I live in, here in Kampala. Stay here a while and you will find it virtually impossible to go anywhere without running into a familiar face.

It's a funny little world too, full of huge contrasts and diversity. Take yesterday for example. In the morning, I was cycling through the villages on the outskirts of the city, past children playing with tyres, frozen in time. Refreshment stops were outside a small shop, where they brushed the dust off the ice cold coke with a grimy cloth.

By the evening, I was dressed in my gladrags at a fancy hotel by Lake Victoria, for a function promising to celebrate the diversity of food and cultures across the world. Or, as we were told, 'it's like your school  International Day, only with wine on the tables and a bar - right up your street!'. We were promised a table with four single men ... only what we actually got was a table with three very dignified Ugandan ladies who demurely sipped Splash juice. Maybe the single men saw the sign that they were seated on a table with the International School teachers and ran a mile in the opposite direction ... who knows?

The evening was fun; full of good food laughter and dancing. The event was attended by people from all over the world, some proudly donning their saris and lederhosen. By the end of the night one thing was clear: it doesn't matter whether you're from Brussels, Birmingham or Bombay - after a few glasses of vino, everybody looks daft when they dance to cheesy 70s and 80s music!

It's a small world after all!