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Dispatch #9 from Rwanda
It's Sunday morning and I'm back in Butare - at least
until tomorrow when I go to Kigali for the week to do
training at Radio Rwanda. As I made my way to the
breakfast room, I heard the TV blaring. When I entered
I realized the Rwandans had discovered the dozen or so
tele-evangelicals and were very happily surfing
through those channels, watching, absolutely
transfixed. Hmmmmm.
The flight to Entebbe is short, about 35-40 minutes,
but it was one of the most incredible flights I've
ever taken. We had just taken off from Kigali, below
us are mountains which look like soft undulating hills
of green velvet, wispy clouds floating above them. As
we bear north I see poking out through heavier clouds
the group of volcanoes in Rwanda's northwest. I just
stared.
When I arrived in Entebbe, Uganda it was already dark.
We had been circling the great dark mass of Lake
Victoria and the airport waiting for the Ugandan
President's jet to land. We finally landed. As I
stepped off the plane I breathed in the warm, sultry
air, so unlike the cool, smoky air of Rwanda.
Thousands of insects were caught in the beams of
light. This is Africa, I thought. After filling out my
SARS form and getting a visa, I made my way into the
arrivals hall and saw my name on a
placard held by a small, bespectacled older man. He
gave me a hearty greeting and we set off on our way.
Entebbe (yes, this is where the Israeli commandos
stormed the hijacked jet back in the 1970s and former
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu's brother
was killed in that operation) is about 50 or so
kilometers from Kampala. The sight on the main road
was incredible. Along both sides of the road kerosene
lanterns and candles were all that lit up tiny little
shops or women selling goods on the side of the road.
It was an amazing sight. I learned later that Kampala
never sleeps. These shops are open through the night.
As we got into Kampala the traffic became thick.
That's one problem we don't have in Rwanda - traffic
jams, or "jams" as they call them here. The drivers
are extremely aggressive playing what seems to be a
mix of chicken and bumper cars...definitely not for the
feint of heart.
After a good hour and a bit we arrived at the
university guest house. I dropped my bags in my room
and went to have a beer. The place just never stopped,
it was completely abuzz with people coming and going,
traffic outside and wafts of music drifting in from
who knows where.
The next morning I found the cybercafe and someone
from the Mass Comm department found me! A short while
later, myself, Joanne, (a Fulbright Scholar from
Seattle), one of the faculty members at Makerere
University and a student were on our way to "the
tombs" where some past kings were buried and current
descendants lived. Then it was off to the Arts and
Crafts Village, a semi-circle of little shops selling
various African goods - masks, statues, sandals, drums
and a variety of tacky tourist items. I showed
considerable restraint and only bought some sandals, a
beautiful cloth from Kenya and a few small items.
Lunch was Ugandan fare - fish, a mushroom and
groundnut sauce, and a plate of carbs - rice, potato,
yam, matoke (steamed green bananas), pumpkin and
several other items that I didn't recognize. Very
good.
Walking the streets later we saw some young men who's
plastic tubs were filled with grasshoppers - alive but
with the wings pulled off. Apparently it's the season
for grasshoppers. The insects are fried in a dry pan
over a low fire in what becomes their own oil. They're
then eaten and apparently are a big treat. They're
also pricey - about $1.50 for a big scoop of the
critters. I have to admit, I found it a bit difficult,
yet fascinating, to look at these poor helpless
creatures who were going to be burned alive. And no, I
never tried one.
Within a few days of arriving in Kampala, I realized I
was experiencing some culture shock. Who knew that
would happen by simply traveling a few hundred
kilometers north? But there you go. There was the
incessant noise, chaotic traffic, the much more
jocular and friendly people, large buildings,
sidewalks and no goats or cows meandering down the
streets. And English was the predominant language. I
realized how much Butare had become my home, how
comfortable I had become there and now how much I
missed it. That in itself came as a surprise to me.
My week was spent primarily at the university either
preparing lectures, lecturing or meeting with faculty
and students. What a change to lecture in English and
know that everyone understands - I didn't have to
repeat everything several times and I could speak at a
normal speed. What a joy! The students were responsive
and interested and eager to discuss ethics, new media
and news writing. I was also slated to visit one of
the two English-language dailies. However, when I
called my contact I was told he was hospitalized with
malaria. So didn't make it there, but I'm not really
sure when I would have squeezed it in. The week passed
so quickly and the faculty were disappointed I
couldn't stay longer, but I do have a standing
invitation to go back which I would do gladly.
Kampala is a beautiful city. Tree-lined streets, hills
covered with green, a stark contrast from Kigali where
most of the trees have been cut down for fuel and the
bark of many trees has been stripped of as well. When
I returned to Butare I noticed a large tree had been
uprooted and fallen over just down the street. Then I
noticed how the tree had already been scavenged with
most of its branches cut off. Yup, there's one big
difference between Kampala and Rwanda - Uganda feels
so much wealthier than Rwanda. The city is vibrant
with people from all over the world. Many Indians have
returned (they were forced to leave under Idi Amin)
and there are Arabs and plenty of muzungu. I soon
understood why Rwanda is considered a hardship post in
diplomatic circles while Kampala is where you go once
"you've arrived."
A few other things that stand out about my time in
Kampala. First off there are the Marabu storks. They
are a massive scavenger type bird. They must weigh at
least 50-60 lbs. and stand at least 3' tall. They're
everywhere in Kampala, standing on roofs, in trees or
in the huge tangle of sticks that make up their
nests. I kept staring at them. They've got these huge,
saggy chin-like things that hang down for a good 8
inches. When they fly their neck extends revealing a
red, fleshy bit....very odd. The Ugandans also have the
endearing habit of saying "sorry" every time something
happens. Joanne and I got caught walking 20 minutes in
the rain and as a result we got absolutely soaked.
When I got back to the guesthouse the man at the
reception desk said "Oh, sorry", as if the rain and my
wetness were his fault. Or you drop something and they
say "sorry" or you spill something and "sorry." I got
a kick out of that.
The day I left Kampala the headline of one of the
newspapers screamed: "Kampala under terrorist threat."
I guess there's just no escape. The ride to the
airport was relatively uneventful except for the jams
and my extremely white-knuckles. From the airport I
saw Lake Victoria, it seemed to surround the airport
on all sides. I watched the sun vanish into the lake
and the moonlight take over. As we took off I couldn't
figure out why there was so much light in the sky for
it was already after 8pm. I looked to my left. There
was the most beautiful full moon over Africa,
illuminating the lake below for what seemed like
miles. How incredible and ironic, I thought, that
there is so much beauty and serenity on this planet
amidst such angst and fear.
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