Journey to Rwanda: In Kampala

This post is continued from this one

I have enjoyed my time here, had enough adventures and misadventures, but you know there are a few things I may not write about even though they happened.

So anyway, since my accommodation in Kigali was not ready by Saturday night when I wanted to leave Kampala, I had to postpone my time of travel to Monday morning. Meanwhile, I met a few friends and hang out with them.

I played pool at Kampala rugby club…. And defeated this guy –> normzo though he says he let me win. At least am practicing on one of the things I said I’d do this year. They included:

i. become a pro in pool
ii. learn French since am going to be in a French speaking country
iii. learn to drive, and also ride a motorbike (I’ll be going for my graduation riding a motorbike, in leather pants, black jacket, sunglasses, the whole shebang. While everyone comes in a hired/borrowed car to impress, I’ll be standing out with my motorbike.)
iv. learn to play the piano. Since I can’t sing to save my life…. At least I can learn the piano so I can play SDA hymns. I love those songs.

Can’t remember what else was on my to-do list this year but this is enough for now.

So there are these guys in Kampala, who (think they) are pros in pool. They come into the place with swagger, sunglasses and carrying their own cue sticks! And to compliment the cue sticks, gloves. I lost to one of them…..but not badly. I only had like one ball left on the table! And he’s supposed to be a pro. Maybe luck was on my side. Perhaps I should get my own glove.

Something I noticed in Kampala, at the butchery, the meat is just sold in the open. You know the way in Kenya, even in remote villages, meat is stored in some glass casing. Here, it’s just open for display.

The people are definitely friendlier, the taxi (matatu) conductors are less rude. There are numerous boda bodas (motorcycles), waving in and out of traffic, it’s a dangerous business. But you take risks.

Elections in Uganda will be held next month, Feb 18, four days after Valentines Day. So the town is covered in campaign posters. Talk of the town is M7 will win again. He’s set to become president for life, is my prediction.

Talking to my Ugandan friends, I learned a few more things about Rwanda. They drive on the right, can you imagine that? At a roundabout, instead of turning left, you turn right, very confusing. One thing I found shocking: they do not allow polythene bags into the country!

What! No polythene bags? How do they survive?

Like when it starts to rain and your precious weave and water can’t mix, you throw a plastic paper bag on your head. Or when buying milk, half a loaf of bread, eggs, etc. storing frozen food in the fridge, plugging leaking containers….etc.

And then, packing. Whenever I pack, shoes go into polythene bags, little things into little polythene bags, and then the whole ensemble into the suitcase. Which means I have to repack and get rid of the plastic menace.

But…..am determined to sneak in a polythene bag. Just for kicks, am not going to use it, just want to see if I can get away with it. *taking a deep breath now….don’t panic. You won’t be arrested.*

Another thing I’ve learnt, you do not talk ill of Kagame. In fact, stay clear of any political discussions. That’s it, zip it. Shhhhh.

I might be coming back to Kampala to work here, who knows?

Now I have to go repack in readiness for the journey tomorrow morning.

Next up: from Kampala to Kigali.