Getting to know Kampala

So far my visits to Kampala have been touch and go. This has been by design as I am not a fan of large cities in developing countries. They tend to be claustrophobic and a bit too much of a dramatic contrast from my usual rural living. This combined with the fact that Kampala’s culture is radically different from the north of Uganda has made me feel out of place with little motivation to try to understand the cosmopolitan culture. However, forced to kill an entire day waiting for my visa to be processed, I decided to observe a slice of Kampala and hopefully get a better feel for the city.

The first thing I want to mention about Kampala is the congestion. Most urban areas in the world are congested and Kampala is no different with seemingly every inch covered with people, goods for sale, or a combination of the two. Kampala is also noted for its large presence of “boda-bodas” (motorcycles). These can be awfully useful for avoiding the notorious congestion but are also extremely dangerous for the same reason. Boda drivers tend to squeeze through small spaces, drive against the flow of traffic, merge without looking, and often, exhibit all three of these dangerous behaviors simultaneously. Peace Corps actually bans their volunteers from using boda-bodas in Kampala, which I thought was over the top, until I rode my first boda in Kampala.

Still, bodas are an excellent solution to beating the standstill traffic and always readily available. You can see the video below for a short, and actually relatively safe and uneventful, boda ride.

I had nearly an entire day to kill in Kampala and decided to stroll around the downtown area. This area was not the financial district, rather what appeared to be the main hustling area of Kampala. Laborers ran up and down the sidewalk with a variety of goods on their heads, semi-trucks unloaded an even wider variety of goods, and the rows of shops (both brick and mortar and temporary set ups on the side walk) sold pretty much every variety of goods you can imagine. I found two vendors selling papaya and sat down on a bench, which was a lucky find. There wasn’t exactly a lot of open space to rest so I took advantage of the prime real estate.

I ended up sitting at this spot for about two hours. It was wedged in between a shop selling shoes (and repairing them) owned by Chinese and a shop selling handbags and suitcases and in front of the shops, the two guys selling papya. On the road there were a variety of semi-trucks, some parked and loading, some unloading. In the time I was there one truck loaded pillows, Muslim prayer mats and shoes (when I left it was still basically empty). Who knows where it was headed and what other goods would be loaded throughout the day? I witnessed a semi-truck unloading luggage and transporting them to a different location. When I saw laborers stack six suitcases on their head I thought, “That’s not too bad, I could probably carry them for a block.” Then I saw that they were like those Russian dolls and each suitcase actually had three suitcases in side of it. Well, maybe it would be an accomplishment enough just to get it on top of my head.

As soon as I was done being amazed by the suitcase men, a truck came and unloaded mattresses. Transport of mattresses in developing countries has always been comical to me since they don’t weigh much though they take up a large area. Still, it’s impressive when some guy puts nine of them on his head and walks down the street.

There was a rotating cast of people that shared the bench with me. Many of them were day laborers and said they were often paid UGX5,000 ($2) for carrying loads. They said it was highly variable depending on the amount of goods and distance to the delivery location, but most of them seemed to think it was low paying. And actually, most of them appeared to be loitering and not in a huge hurry to work and one was certainly drunk. A woman came with some food that did not look appetizing but smelled amazing. It was a mix of bean and vegetables with a cut up chapatti inside. It smelled delicious and I immediately asked the man receiving the food how to get one. He said you had to call a woman and she would bring the food. He placed an order for me and about 10 minutes later a woman came with a ceramic bowl. It was UGX2,000 (about $.75) and it was delicious as it was filling. Apparently there are women who live in the area and they cook up huge pots of food and deliver on demand. I noticed several of these women in the area offering a variety of dishes. For comparison sake, a similar dish in a restaurant would cost about UGX5,000-10,000 ($2-4). While I was dining on my lunch, it was certainly the time I received the most looks from people passing by.

After my lunch I was thirsty. As if reading my mind, a woman selling drinks came by. I bought a water and was left feeling very content. I chit-chatted with the small crew of friends I had made and then moved off. Although the hustle and bustle certainly did not cease at any point in my time on the bench, I at least felt like I had the opportunity to stop and soak in the pace of life in Kampala.