A day for wearing hats and bullet proof vests

Today crowds gathered in London to watch the Royal Wedding. I hadn't planned to watch it as I had booked a couple of nights away in Jinja and was unsure whether I would be able to find somewhere with DSTV showing it. Nothing seemed to go to plan this morning; I spent an hour trying to locate my bank card from a safe place and then there was a flat tyre. Just as we were about to set off, we heard that there was trouble again in town. We hummed and haaed as to whether we should risk it, and in the end decided to play safe. Instead we decided to pop to the supermarket to stock up on food, just in case. As always in Kampala, we bumped into a few familiar faces in the shops and by the time we left we had heard about the (incorrect) Twitter rumours that Besigye was dead, that the clock tower had been burnt down and that there was fighting in areas all over town.

As we drove home from the shops in Lugogo, the roads were almost deserted. I am sure we did not imagine the sound of gunfire as we approached our street ...

Today's riots were sparked by the fourth arrest of opposition leader Besigye, this time in his car. He was attacked so seriously with tear gas and pepper spray that he has gone blind. The latest report is that he has been blocked from trying to get on a plane to Nairobi, where he was planning to go to obtain medical treatment. I have to say I was quite disconcerted to read this passage in The Guardian:

In Ntinda, angry youths shouted and hurled stones and chunks of concrete at passing cars. On one corner, a man ran up to a council vehicle as it drove by and smashed the driver's window with a rock, raising cheers from onlookers.

Ntinda is the next district to where I live, just about 5 minutes drive away. It is one thing to read about riots in the down town areas or by the university and quite another to think of it happening on your doorstep.

So back to the wedding ... which we watched with the sound of gunfire in the background. We waved our Union Jacks and gave the happy couple royal waves. The dress was amazing, she looked beautiful and he looked ... well quite bald actually - he's lucky she didn't change her mind and marry Harry!

A happier image of the 29th April

A tour of Bukoto

 As I'm holidaying at home this Easter, I thought I'd take you on a little tour of the sights of Bukoto.

Hardware aplenty

Mmmmmm matooke!

24 hour garage - sells beer, wine and all the essentials!

Boda boda stand

A pub

Local clinic

Usually sparks are flying from these gates

And another pub

Guess what - yet another pub!

Mobile fruit and veg stand

The hips don't lie

 

Take a look at how these dresses are sold - stretched to the maximum at the hip. I guess the emaciated skinny model look never really took off in Uganda!

Easter on the Equator

Easter Sunday - a day that should surely be spent gorging on Easter Eggs ... except I thought it would be a great idea to cycle to the Equator!

The route was planned along the back roads since cycling along the main road with all the kama kazi trucks hurtling along en route to Nairobi would be a death wish. We took the bus to the starting point just outside of the city and expected the ride to be just over 50kms. Thanks to Google maps and a Garmin, we were able to plan a route taking us through a series of villages and to eventually arrive at the Equator for coffee and muffins at the cafe and of course, a silly photo in the sign. I'm not sure what went wrong, but within 5 minutes we were lost. In the end we had to rely on directions from a toothless local dressed in a dishdash as all the modern technology seemed to be failing us. Every time we thought we were within reaching distance of the Equator, the Garmin would update itself and add on another 15 to 20 kms to the journey. After one or two diversions, the total distance was 84.5kms!

It was a beautiful but very hilly ride, taking us through quiet villages that are barely touched from outside. We passed children dressed in their Sunday best and women in vividly coloured Gomesi (the traditional silk dresses with exaggerated shoulders - power dressing was clearly a fashion in Uganda long before the 1980s). This Uganda seemed unaffected and a million miles away from all of the recent troubles and riots seen in Kampala and major cities across the country.

Proof of the distance travelled!

Lush Ugandan countryside

Biker's tan!

Women wearing the traditional Gomesi

Save the Easter Bunny!

We made it ... now let's grab a coffee!

Seven hours after setting off, five tired, sunburnt and dusty cyclists arrived at the Equator. The silly thing is, that by the time we got there, we were all too exhausted and hungry to be much bothered about having a picture taking by the big sign - all we cared about was getting a big smoothie and guac and chips!

Older not wiser!

Last night I celebrated the start of my 33rd year. I thought about writing one of those reflective pieces about where I'm going in life and so forth, but then again, it's 6pm and my head is still feeling a little fuzzy!

I was touched that so many friends came out to celebrate with me, especially at such a busy time of year when everyone is rushing around before the holidays. Some friends were so committed to making sure I had a good birthday that they even stayed out dancing with me until the wee small hours of the morning! This morning I started to suspect that maybe it wasn't such a good idea on a school night ... when will I ever learn?

The good news is that I am finally on holiday. This time I'm staying put and trying to save my cash for the summer holidays in the UK. I'm looking forward to lazy days by the pool and reading a few books.
 Just to keep me out of trouble, here's my holiday 'To do' list:

• A bike ride to the Equator - more about that later
• Make a photo book of my safari photos
• Take photos of my local neighbourhood - today I realised I have been living here for over two years and have hardly any photos of the day to day stuff
• Maybe, just maybe, paint my flat
• Pool time for reading and tanning (I am so pale it is hard to believe I live in Uganda, but my classroom does have a roof!)
• Try out some new recipes
• Teach my maid how to make a few simple dishes
• Morning swims, runs and maybe a spot of yoga

So now I've made my list public, I have to do at least half of it and I am not allowed to spend all day watching DVDs!

A Woman's Right to Art

There is a fabulous episode of 'Sex and the City' where Carrie gets 'shoe shamed' by a friend who is married with children. When her shoes disappear from her friend's apartment, she discovers that her friend's priorities have changed. She can no longer understand how Carrie can spend $500 on a pair of Manolo Blahniks. Carrie later realises that she has spent hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars on engagement presents, wedding presents and baby showers and that as a single woman, none of this is returned. Her solution is to register herself at Manolo Blahnik, in recognition of her just-announced marriage to herself. The only item that she registers for is a single pair shoes that went missing at the baby shower!

I think many single women can identify with Carrie in this episode. It is not that I resent buying presents for friends, it's just that I think I deserve the odd treat too. Some may think that I am very decadent - I am lucky enough to be able to travel to exotic or exciting destinations and have a very comfortable lifestyle. I know that when I eventually return to the UK, I will not be having fortnightly pedicures and eating out at the drop of a hat. I see nothing wrong with making the most of being here.

There are no beautiful shoe shops in Kampala, and even if there were, the delicate Blahniks would not last five minutes on our dusty roads. There is, however, a thriving art scene, and buying an original painting is reasonably affordable. A couple of months ago I fell for a David Kigozi guinea fowl picture. Today I paid the final installment and brought it home, just in time for my birthday!

Keep Calm and Carry On

Today Kampala once again experienced riots. They haven't been widely reported in the international press as they were on quite a small scale compared to what has happened in North Africa and the Middle East recently, but they were riots nonetheless.
This has been building all week. The main opposition leader, Kizza Besigye, called for 'walk to work' protests over the recent rises in the cost of fuel and the increased cost of basic food stuffs (a rise of 12% in March alone according to the Guardian). He was arrested on Monday and today he was shot. Protests took place in areas all over town and we were advised to stay well away.
Just after lunch, one of my colleagues spotted big army tanks driving up the Northern By-pass. Large crowds were seen gathering on corners. Apparently tear gas was used in various areas. Today the children were allowed to go home early as some parents were concerned about getting stuck in the middle of trouble. As with most protests, most of the people are there to support a cause, while there are always a few trouble makers around.
This afternoon my class dwindled down one by one. By the end of the day I was left with only four children. One of the kids commented that it was like taking part in a reality show where contestants get evicted one by one!
Things are calming down in most areas now, and I have just heard that the main ring-leaders have been arrested. So it will be business as usual tomorrow!

Seasiders!

A while ago, I decided I was going to make a real effort to watch all the Blackpool matches and to start a Ugandan fan base. It hasn't been going too well. The fatal flaw in the plan is that I'm not really that much of a football fan, but being away from home always makes the heart a little fonder! A couple of weeks ago I met a friend who was also keen to watch and support Blackpool in a Premiership match.

So on Sunday, I headed to Tickles and Giggles (what a brilliant name for a pub) to watch the Seasiders. Most, if not all, of the Ugandans were there to support Arsenal. I wondered if I could convince anyone to change their allegiance. I thought it would be better to start with someone young, so when a ten year old boy came up to my friend who was wearing an Arsenal shirt and said 'that's my team' I said that he should support the ones in orange.

"But how can you support them when they are losing 2-nil?" was his reply.

Hmmm - he had a point, but not to be deterred, I told him that they were lulling Arsenal into a false sense of security and would score 5 goals in the second half. As if ...
Anyway, after having a few chats with people around the bar, here is a draft letter to the manager so he can try and recruit a few more supporters this side of the world:



Dear Mr Holloway,

I'm not sure if you'll read this, but on the off chance, I have a few suggestions for how you could encourage a few Ugandans to support your team.

Firstly, you should try and sign a Ugandan player. I have it on good authority that Ugandans will be happy to support a team, even if they are sometimes a bit crap, if they have a representative from their country. I understand that we do have the Ghanaian goal keeper, but Ghana is a long, long way from Uganda. I am sure Uganda has many great players and that you would not be short of applicants.

Secondly, it would be a good idea to try and win a game now and again. There are a couple of reasons why I had trouble recruiting supporters. One was that the small boy feared a beating from his Dad if he started supporting the ones in orange instead of the ones playing in yellow, but I also found it hard to persuade a bunch of glory seekers to support the underdog. The argument that Blackpool were at the top of the table at the start of the season is wearing a little thin.

My final advice is to promote the similarities between Blackpool and Kampala. What other two cities have a bar every ten paces and drunks staggering around before noon? Forget the normal tourist attractions such as seven miles of golden sands or the Tower and promote the numerous bars peddling booze cheap enough to strip your stomach lining and you will win a few hearts.

If you want to go one step further, then pack up last season's strip in one of those bin liners that you believe is going to charity and they will be sure to end up on Owina Market six months down the line, sold at a considerable mark up (for transport, of course).

Yours faithfully,

Ali!

Or what you will ...

Last night I went to see a KADS performance of 'Twelfth Night'. I had only been expecting drama in the theatre, but it seems I was in for a little extra en-route. Just as I was driving up the lane where I live, a car was leaving the little garage. Nothing unusual in that. I carried on driving along, then I noticed it was reversing. I stopped with a good distance between me and him and then expected him to stop. Except he didn't. He continued to reverse until something would stop him; that something being my car! I don't think I would be a good person to have around in an emergency as I just froze like a rabbit in headlights. I got out of the car to see what he would say. He pointed to the bar with the fog lights in front of my car and said:

But madam, this is here to protect you when something hits you!

I explained that while it may indeed protect me in an emergency, my car is not a bumper car and that I would like it to be taken car of. Whilst in the middle of this debate, a traffic policeman, in his full white regalia, emerged from the same garage. I relayed the story to him and he laughed at me. By this point, several passers by were also laughing raucously. I suggested that the driver should be charged for driving without due care and attention and he said:

But madam, this is here to protect you when something hits you!

Clearly I was not going to get anywhere with this situation, even though I am sure that if I had made the same error I would have been presented with a hefty fine. I drove off with a slightly shaky right leg.


As for play, the local am dram group is most famous for the annual pantomime, and this wasn't far off it! The groundlings didn't quite heckle, but if they did, they would have shouted 'you're in the wrong play' when Antonio appeared as a perfect double of Jack Sparrow! Our thespian doctor played the permanently inebriated rascal Sir Toby Belch a little too well. Malvolio was suitably malevolent and Olivia got more and more flirtatious and French as the play went on.

I had gone in with the attitude that Shakespeare played by amateurs could be dreadful, so I was pleasantly surprised. I do think it was a wise choice to stick with a comedy. What a shame the venue was the stuffy old National Theatre though - it would have been lovely to watch the play outdoors with a pic-nic and a glass of wine!

Just an average week in Kampala

Another week of the ups and downs of life in Kampala!

The week started on a serious down as a serious downer as I was struck down by the lurgy. On Monday morning I wasn't feeling quite myself. By the time I had delivered a mental maths test literally doubled over with stomach cramps I decided it was time to give in and go home. The rest of the day was lost in sleep and unpleasantries I won't explain in detail! On the upside, I have discovered there is a female doctor at the surgery who just gets on with it and treats you, without any inquisitions or inappropriate sarcastic comments - what a delight! Also, a friend explained to me how you are actually supposed to collect the samples. How was I supposed to know? Nobody ever talks about it - I am enlightened!

On Tuesday I started to recover and lost myself in a world of books and movies. I found 'Made in Dagenham' on my shelf (I must have subconsciously wanted a visit down memory lane the day I bought that one - maybe to remind myself how fortunate I am to live in the salubrious neighbourhood of Bukoto!?!) For those of you who don't know, I started my teaching career there. I can't say I look back on that time with rose tinted glasses. Sure, it's near enough to London, as long as you don't mind a ten minute bus ride to the 'eafway (Dagenham Heathway Underground station if you don't speak Dagenhamese), followed by an hour long ride through over twenty stations on the dilapidated District Line. And if you couldn't face the epic journey into town, then you could always entertain yourself by watching cars burning on the Safeway Car Park. The borough kindly provided us with affordable 'key worker' accommodation - a converted car park nestled between two tower blocks. I have never felt like more of a foreigner or outsider - when I went into shops and spoke in my dulcet northern tones, I was regarded with stranger looks than a muzungu in a remote Ugandan village. Anyway I digress ... back to the movie. I had no idea that the women of Dagenham were so instrumental in bringing about the Equal Pay for women act. I enjoyed watching these brave women fight for what was right and am not surprised that the feisty women of this area managed such a feat!

By Wednesday I was well on the road to recovery and enjoyed celebrating a friend's birthday at a Mexican restaurant. I ordered sangria and it came in a vase. She was also served a very special cake - it's amazing what can be done with a bit of icing these days!

Back in school, I have been surprised by how innocent my Year Sixes are. I'm not sure whether it's the cultural differences or whether they just have a different vocabulary, but they have certainly not giggled at the same things I did when I was eleven. At the start of the year, I read aloud from 'Godnight Mister Tom' and there was barely a snigger at the mention of poor little Willie. Yesterday, I was teaching the kids about Blogs and had to spell out the pun of Blogroll - a gag that most English eleven year olds would get in a second. We have been using calculators in maths for sometime now and the kids have been experimenting with spelling out the usual words - hello, shell, oil and so forth. I don't think my student was expecting to be congratulated when I spotted he had 58008 displayed on his screen. I said it was fine as long as he could write me a 3 step problem leading to that answer!

Fast forward to the weekend please!

Oh my - someone's in for a happy birthday!

Oh dear - have just noticed my vase of sangria is chipped!

Happy Mother's Day!

If I could have just one super-power, it would be teleportation. Sure, flying or being invisible would be fun for a while, but the power to travel anywhere without any transport, cost or time implications would be amazing.

Today is Mother's Day in the UK. I was a good daughter and remembered to send a personalised card from Moonpig and some goodies from Laura Ashley, but it's not the same as being with her. I spent my morning biking on the outskirts of Kampala and the afternoon at the pool while she entertained friends in the Lake District. I wish I could have zapped myself over there for a day!

Here are a few reasons why I am so proud of my Mum:

She is selfless with her time, taking care of everyone in the family. She did an especially great job of looking after both my Grandma and my Gran in their later years.

She is a talented florist and always makes the house and garden look beautiful.

She can spot a bargain at a hundred paces and taught me how to seek out that last pair of gorgeous shoes knocked down from a hundred pounds to a tenner!

She is an awesome cook, always trying out new recipes. I am already looking forward to a carrot cake, home made jam and the odd loaf of freshly baked bread when I come home for the summer (hint hint!!)

She is patient and always keeps her calm (even with her hot-headed daughter!) She looks for the best in everybody and is a loyal friend. I can't imagine anybody every having a bad word to say about her.

She is super-organised, never losing a receipt or a set of car keys. She always knows EXACTLY where everything is ... God knows I didn't inherit that one!

She is a truly independent woman, having worked hard to help support the family (and fund her shoe and handbag habit) since the age of 15. She ran her own business for nearly ten years and got a great reputation for her work. I admire her work ethic and sense of commitment and would like to think that she has passed it on to me.

Finally, she has always supported me in everything I have done. I'm sure it can't be easy when your only daughter decides to go and live and work on a different continent, but she has never tried to stop me!

Mum - thank you for being you!

Spending time with Mum in South Africa this Christmas!

April Fools

Friday at last ...

After the adrenalin rush of the triathlon, Monday hit hard. By mid-day I was virtually crashing out in the classroom and decided I would have a week of total rest and pampering myself! My hair is now chocolate brown again and my feet are neatly pedicured. One of my favourite indulgences here is having the massage lady come to my house and work out all of the knots in my back. What could be better than being able to go for a nap straight afterwards? The only exercise I have done all week is a few leisurely laps at the club on Wednesday (actually I have to admit that the OCD did take over a little at this point and I didn't manage to stop until I did 40!)

Galaxy chocolate is currently on sale all over town. It's a little melted but still lovely and creamy and smooth. Caramel is best! I (almost) hope it disappears off the shelves as quickly as it appeared so that I don't develop a serious chocolate habit!

This morning was my class assembly. As soon as I saw the rota, I knew I was in for trouble having it on April Fool's Day. I think the joke was well and truly on me. A middle of the night power cut meant that my alarm failed to go off. I woke up with a start at 7.15am and had to get ready at lightning speed. If I don't have half an hour's quiet time in the morning, it puts me out of synch for the entire day. The kids performed and did a great job ... considering that one little diva decided to improvise and confused the rest of the class. I sat and watched with a bemused look on my face, but they held it together pretty well. The day ended with a Ugandan staff member in a fankle because an owl landed on the administration building which is apparently an omen of death here. And there was me thinking that the wise old owl had landed on the school building to impart his knowledge!