Problems with Authority

Safely ensconced in the BOMA. For all that I have not been suffering any privation for the last four weeks, it is nice to be in a place with a nice hot shower and internet; the fact that it is close to the airport for my ride home tomorrow is no small thing, either…

Wasn’t sure I was going to make it to Entebbe today. My ride was supposed to arrive this morning at 10, by 10:30, still no cars. For whatever reason, there was a miscommunication and the driver did not know that the booking was confirmed. They were nice enough to send out the next person ASAP, and we got to leave at 11:30.

Many more police by the side of the roads today; I think since we were in a passenger car instead of a van we were preferentially waved over, since it happened several times on the way to Entebbe and hadn’t happened at all going to Mbarara. I think it must be the driver that looks shady, surely they don’t suspect little old me of anything untoward? I was very happy that I had a smart driver when the first two cops asked him to pop the trunk so they could look. He got out and went back to talk with them, apparently telling them that we were late in getting to the airport and that he was unable to open my luggage. They were requesting to search my luggage, not sure if that’s just a prelude. They then asked if he could have me open the luggage, to which he smartly replied that he would be happy to do so if the captain of the police force requested it. Since I’m not sure that they were actually supposed to be stopping and searching people, they quickly allowed us to be on our way.

It’s surprising how quickly you can get used to things. I remember on the way out to Mbarara that everything looked so different from what I’m used to seeing driving down the roads back home; on the way back, it was just more of the same old thing. It’s interesting that different regions of the country have different specialties and different emphases- soon after passing a papyrus swamp, the sides of the road were filled with people selling papyrus weavings. We passed through a watery area, and had people waving to get our attention trying to sell tilapia (a very tasty fish- common here). We had to detour through Kampala itself, since the road we were going to take to get to Entebbe by going around Kampala is not one you want to travel on without a four wheel drive after it rains. We passed through an impressive squall on the way to Kampala, inky black clouds and thick drops of rain.

It was nice that it was just the driver Herbert and myself; I got to pick his brain about life in Uganda and its recent history. Until now I have been hesitant to ask about the difficult years under Amin and what effect that had on the country, since I‘ve been unwilling to dredge up possibly painful memories. Luckily, he provided the segue into the conversation, and didn‘t seem to mind discussing politics and culture in Uganda. I also learned that he can apparently tell an Ankole from a Bugandan quite easily, and took delight in trying to explain the subtle differences to a clueless Mzungo.

I also got to learn how much a cow costs in Uganda, and how much a hectare (no clue how big that is) of land costs- apparently Herbert has quite the operation going, with 4 cows and 16 hectares, much of which is planted in a banana plantation. Food is certainly not the problem for his wife and 5 children, since they have so much planted land; paying for school is the issue. From what I understand primary school is covered, but the government run schools are seen as far inferior to private schools for which people have to pay. You can “freehold” here in Uganda, which means that, at least for now, after you pay for the land, surveyor, title, etc you own it free and clear without having to pay taxes yearly, which I find incredible. Not sure how that will fare after the future elections. The elections aren’t scheduled until 2011, and people are already talking about it quite a bit- should be interesting.

I will miss the food here- had a great dinner of tilapia fillet and chips (French fries), with the fish freshly pulled from Lake Victoria. Looking forward to sleeping tonight without being awoken by either the Imam or the trucks bouncing across speed bumps. Not looking forward to waiting until my flight leaves at 11:00 PM tomorrow night, the nine hour flight, 6 hour layover in Amsterdam, another 10 hour flight, nine hour layover in Minneapolis, and then only a short 4 hour flight into Portland. Hoping to catch something on standby….