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.
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
Friday, 8 May 2009
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...
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...
Wednesday, 6 May 2009
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
Monday, 4 May 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, 30 April 2009
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!
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.
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.
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