Kaiso

Working at the NLRI HQ is fun, but I was anxious to get out and see first hand what NLRI did. Luckily enough, I was presented such an opportunity at the beginning of the week in the form of a field trip out to Lake Albert, where two NLRI stations are based.

The two stations we would be visiting were small fishing villages on the shores of the lake. The first of these, Kaiso, was about three-quarters of the way down the Eastern shore. After hiring a car, we set off with a cargo of fishing floats (for life jackets) and motor oil (for the motorboats). The journey passed uneventfully, but the landscape was still breathtaking: rolling hills and dense forests as we trundled along towards the end of the large escarpment that announces the beginning of the Albertine Rift.

After four or so hours of rather bumpy driving, we reached the edge of the escarpment; the sandstone ridge giving way to a magnificent plain, with the Blue Mountains of the Congo, shrouded in mist, separated from us by the slate grey waters of Lake Albert itself. In the distance Richard, our Ugandan driver and another NLRI employee, pointed out the camps and drilling station of Tullow Oil, an Irish oil company who are carrying out exploratory drilling in the area and who also work closely with NLRI through their CSR programme. We could also begin to make out the scattering of buildings close to the water that made up Kaiso. Once down onto the plain, we passed the final few kilometres relatively quickly, spotting a small troupe of baboons as they scampered nimbly across the dirt track.

Kaiso was a an eye-opener. For a start, there was only one brick building in the whole village, the rest were mud walls and reed-thatched roofs, with low doors and tiny windows that a man of my height would have struggled to get through even when bent double. Piles of small fry or mukeni lay drying in the sun, later to be scooped up along with the sand on which they lay and transported back to Kampala for use as chicken feed. Elsewhere, larger talapia and Nile Perch lay gutted on wooden racks, ready to be salted or smoked. As you can imagine, this gave a rather particular smell to the place that wasn't particularly easy to adjust to for a muzungu like me. The rather oppressive heat did not help matters much (apart from to give me mild sunburn).

The NLRI station was at the westernmost edge of the village, separated by a chainlink fence, with the lake to north. The station had a full staff of around 7 people, and in keeping with NLRI policy, all of whom were recruited from the local area - several of them Kaiso inhabitants themselves. Each station runs semi-autonomously, with support and guidance from NLRI headquarters and are expected to run projects directly with the local community.

Some time was spent gauging progress on the various initiatives and projects, before we loaded up and set off to our hostel back towards the escarpment. Later that evening, as we enjoyed a couple of cold beers, I looked out over the lake to see it filled with hundreds of lights from the wooden fishing boats - the nocturnal habits of the fishermen's prey mean that nighttime fishing, while much riskier than its diurnal opposite, is highly profitable. A magical view to say the least.

Getting away from it all...

Apologies for the lack of activity on this 'blog, but out here in the wilds of Africa, electrical power - let alone Internet access - is not always readily available.

Anyway, after a 7-day hiatus from all things hypertext-related, I feel very glad that it's now time again to roll up my sleeves, crack my knuckles and let you all know what I've been up to over the last week.

Kampala was getting a little claustrophobic, so we decided to pack our bags and head eastwards, towards the town of Jinja (and the source of the Nile), to a lodge called the Haven. The road out of Kampala, testing at the best of times, was simply hair-raising, with the unpredictable antics of half-drunk/insane matatus and boda-bodas providing ample opportunities for the skin over my knuckles to whiten. Luckily, after 4 fatal coach crashes the previous week, Uganda's 'finest' were out in force. Resplendent in their khaki overalls and smart berets and brandishing speed guns, they were pulling over drivers left, right and centre - including us!

Before I continue, a short aside regarding Ugandan police officers may be useful: they, like most civil servants in the country, are often very badly paid and often resort to wringing bribes from people in order to supplement their meagre wages. The offering of bribes is often expressed using pithy euphemisms, most commonly asking the policeman or woman whether he or she 'has had any breakfast, ssebo/nyabo?" It often works though, although I would certainly not recommend offering a member of the Met a bacon sarnie to get off a speeding fine...

The officer waved to us to pull over and then sauntered casually over to the car, before informing us that we were travelling at over 20km/h over the speed limit. My heart sank at the prospect of forking out for a bribe, but thanks to a strong appeal to the policeman's better nature by Ali (my hostess and fiancé of my good friend, Daniel) he let us all off with a caution. Proceeding a little more cautiously, we continued on our journey to Jinja and the source of the Nile.

The country grew more and more rural as we left the city behind us, our road taking us past thick sugar cane plantations, idly swaying in the breeze; and through dense jungle, catching glimpses of black-faced vervet monkeys and splendidly-coloured parrots as we roared past.

Jinja is the location of Nile Breweries, where the eponymous Nile Lager is brewed, using water from that most mighty of rivers. It's a fine beer, with a strong malty flavour and not too many bubbles - and at 5.6%, it'll put you on your behind after six 500ml bottles. Ugandans love a drink and there are several other beers to try (Club, Moonberg and Bell, although this last one has a reputation of being a bit of a wife-beater, so you may want to give it a miss), as well as the infamous waragi spirit, sold in 100ml plastic sachets for about 200 Ugandan Shillings (about 7p), beloved by poor folk all over the country.

A short while after we passed Nile Breweries, we turned off the main road and onto the 5km dirt track to The Haven. We passed several small settlements along the winding, dusty and very bumpy road - these were no more than a handful of mud huts with thatched reed roofs. Piebald and brown goats scattered in front of the car and the scent of charcoal hung on the air, as we rattled through the final few kilometres while around us dusk fell.

The Haven certainly did live up to its name; it consists of a handful of single and double-occupancy bandas (African-style thatched huts) on a beautifully-kept lawn, it offers some truly magnificent views of the Nile.

The next day, I rose early to take some snaps and then we set off on the next leg of our journey to Sipi Falls. Sipi Falls is in fact a collection of three waterfalls of varying heights that lie on the edge of the escarpment that forms the Mount Elgon National Park. We booked into Sipi Falls Lodge, a comfortable and friendly, if only slightly spartan, hostel in a stunning location at the foot of the smallest fall. We spent the next day trekking around the falls and getting caught in massive electrical storms with no waterproofs and on the side of a mountain. Lots of fun.

Next day we set off home, stopping again in Jinja for a spot of lunch and a cold Nile by the err..Nile. A fitting end to a wonderful weekend.

Monkeys

Just saw a troupe of vervet monkeys scamper across the lawn at the back of the office. Didn't get a chance for a photo, so you'll have to take my word for it!

Wadanga!

Wadanga!

What does wadanga mean? Well, it means whatever you want it to mean!

Here at the NLRI, it's a weekly show-and-tell that all members of staff are obliged to take part in. Whichever person's turn it is can choose any subject they like to present to the rest of the team; questions follow an then lunch - and today was my turn.

A short presentation on France (my favourite country) followed, after which I was posed some pretty taxing questions, leading to some stuttered and stammered replies as my - admittedly rather shallow - well of knowledge ran out.

Great fun and a good opportunity to get to know some of the guys and girls here a little better.

Incident

e had to head into town for a few errands, namely to get a couple of flags made for an impending state visit by various notables to the NLRI at Wanseko and Kaiso, on the banks of Lake Albert.

The road from Kawuuku to Kampala would have been hard work for an off-road vehicle; in a matatu, it was only thanks to the driver's single-minded pursuit of profit that we arrived in one piece at all!

Kampala was hot, noisy and crowded. Hawkers peddling mobile phone credit, plastic gew gaws, mangos and cassava jockeyed for our attention as we pushed our way through the dusty streets.

Several enquiries later, we had managed to arrange for the flags to be made in time for the visit. Satisfied with our progress, we decided to eat. A short walk up the Nkurumah Road up to Kampala road and we had arrived at Debonair's Pizza. Debonair's service was excellent, by Ugandan standards, meaning we only had to wait 30 minutes for our food and drinks, by which point we were ravenous.

Just as our food was arriving a terrible scene unfolded on the other side of the road. A boda-boda driver and passenger had come off their bike at the traffic lights on the junction of the Kampala and Entebbe Roads and, as I turned round to look at the commotion, a 15-tonne lorry drove over at least one of them. Within moments, a crowd of several hundred people, including a hundred or so boda drivers, had surrounded the victims and the driver of the lorry (boda drivers are notoriously loyal to each other, and there was a risk of summary justice being dispensed there and then). Luckily enough, the police arrived fairly quickly and the injured were lifted into the back of a pickup (and oddly enough the lorry involved with the incident) to be ferried to hospital. The crowds were soon dispersed at the police's behest and quickly the traffic resumed its earlier tempo, with only a few shards of glass and plastic bearing witness to the earlier carnage.

This was an apposite lesson in the safety of African roads, of which Uganda has some of the most dangerous. With a rate of fatal road accidents 11 times higher than that of the UK, you could be forgiven for closing your eyes and saying a silent prayer every time you get on board a matatu or boda-boda...

National Lake Rescue Institute

So, one day later than I expected, I have finally started my sabbatical with the National Lake Rescue Institute. They're based about 15 minutes boda-boda ride from my house, in a suburb of Kampala called Kawutu.

When I got here, I was given a tour of the premises by my old friend, Daniel. I met several of the full-time staff here, including one lady who was sewing lifejackets for use on Lake Victoria and Lake Albert. One of the main thrusts of the NLRIs activities is the production of lifejackets for the water-dwelling communities; these are produced by the NRLI, or by Ugandans trained by the organisation, from low-cost materials (their buoyancy coming from plastic fishing floats sewn into the jacket) and are sold to fishermen, their families and other individuals that eke out a living from the lakes.

Today was spent putting my considerable IT skills to work. I helped set up a small network and started preparation of some basic IT training materials for some of the main MS Office applications (Word, Excel). Hardly putting my life on the line to help people, but it's something very useful as IT training and skills are not highly developed in this part of the world.

We truly are a global company!

Kampala

I'm not starting work until tomorrow, so I've decided to come to Kampala to do some sightseeing and get my bearings somewhat. Here's a brief list of some of the things I've experienced so far:

Transport:
If you don't have your own car, then there are 2 principal means of
getting about Kampala:
- 'Matatu' or minibus taxi: these squeeze around 14 people inside and
hair about the roads with scant regard for other road users. As you can imagine, they're a little cramped, so at nearly
6'4", I'm perhaps a little bit too tall for this means of transport!
- 'Boda-boda' or moped taxi: these are pillion passenger mopeds or
120cc scooters. Fast, cheap and a little more comfortable than the
matatu, I've been using these to get about. They are renowned for their poor safety record, but the government has been making some efforts to improve on this.

You can use normal private or 'special' hire taxis, but these are a
bit more pricey. The roads here are by and large pretty good; apparently, the good condition is due in no small part to the efforts in preparation for the recent (2007) visit to Uganda by the world Commonwealth heads, including Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. However, despite all this, Ugandan roads are far more dangerous than UK roads. I've heard of several people being killed on the roads, including 2 parents of children at the international school where the fiancé of my friend and host works.

Weather:
It's hot here, but not unbearable. My unscientific estimates would put
it at around 32 Celcius. It's quite humid at times and there was
thunder, lightening and some rain this morning. Apparently, we're at the tail end of the rainy season.

People:
Very friendly indeed! Ugandans are polite, smiling and helpful. I
haven't met too many yet, but first impressions are very positive.

Kampala is hot, dusty, noisy and chaotic, but I love it so far! Will have more to tell later this week when I start work.

Next stop: Uganda!

The title says it all.

Crap night's sleep, thanks to snoring dormitory companions. However, inner core of steel (snort!)provides me with the strength to continue.

Plane leaves in 3 hours - had better jump on a tram and get my behind to Schipol!

Amsterdamaged

The first leg of my pan-continental trek is over and, now that I'm firmly ensconced in the plush surroundings of Amsterdam's Hotel Annemarie, I thought I'd kick off the blog again with a short update.

After a short and uneventful plane hop over to the Netherlands, I arrived in Centraal Station to be greeted by what only can be described as thousands of legless Dutch. A passing policeman informed me that it was indeed 'Konniggsentag' or ''Queen's Day' and that 'everone [would be] getting drunk and fighting now'. Brilliant. Expecting an easy tram ride to the Museumplein, hordes of orange-clad folk barred my way at every turn. Cue one 35 minute walk, combined with a 35 euro taxi ride, and I arrive at my lodgings, tired and looking forward to a good sleep before tomorrow morning's 11:00am flight to Entebbe.

I haven't had much opportunity to reflect on what's coming up next for me, but despite the fatigue, I am excited about what lies ahead. I have visions of a chaotic hustle and bustle that characterises an African city that I hope will not be too far off the reality.