On Wednesday at around noon, I walked down Kampala Road, listening to the traffic and the crowds and the taxi touts and the energy that all just seemed noisy. Then, all of a sudden, the traffic stopped flowing. Where dozens of cars should have been traveling, suddenly there were none. The street was silent. I paused, as did several other people who were walking near me, and glanced into the now empty street. An ambulance siren went off somewhere in the distance. Actually, I don’t know that it was an ambulance. I don’t know what kind of siren it might have been. I just knew it was ringing, somewhere, for some unknown reason. Ambulances are not common in these ends, and most sirens indicate a government convoy. Maybe it was the foreboding quiet that made me associate the distant sound with an ambulance, I don’t really know. I kept walking, in the direction of where the traffic should have been flowing from but wasn’t, eager to see if there was some kind of source to its end.

Eventually, I got to a place further down the thoroughfare where more cars were flowing. There was no particular or apparent cause to their stop, as if it had just been a regular bottleneck. But something more must have happened. It just wasn’t anything I could see.

I kept walking. At the next junction, an expensive car, the kind with tinted windows so that wananchi wouldn’t know who had such an expensive car, a Jaguar, I believe, hit a boda boda. Not badly, just a small collision. But this once again stopped the already halted traffic. A police officer in the normal khaki that seems to be all to frequently sited these days, stopped him, and yelling was involved. The police have been cracking down on boda boda drivers who travel without helmets or permits, which is basically all of them. He grabbed the driver by the belt of his pants, as someone else pushed his idle bike towards the curb. I watched until the police officer started watching me, making it clear I was doing something I should not have been doing, and then I continued. The man in the Jaguar continued along his way as well.

The siren in the distance continued.

Nothing big or violent or obvious seemed to have happened, yet it also seemed that much had transpired. Everyone just continued on their way, the unremarkable quiet now filled with noise, the street filled with cars, the unnamed boda going to meet an unknown fate.

Copyright Glenna Gordon. The walls at the Jinja Road Roundabout were painted with political empowerment slogans and murals just weeks before Chogm in November 2007.

I posted a few days ago, asking, where have all the Ugandan political bloggers gone?

First off, my post elicited a directly political post from Ugandan Insomniac, which includes a bunch of newspaper covers (something most people out of Uganda don’t get to see even if they check the Vision and Monitor websites every day) and had some much needed commentary on Andrew Mwenda’s new enterprise – which may be losing its edge, as more than one person has said to me. (Which makes me think back to my original comment on self censorship, but that’s another can of worms for a another post.)

Next, a great commnet from Antipop on why there might not be more political bloggers:

To be honest with you most of us come to blogger to escape from it all. The fires, the term limits, the land wrangles, GAVI funds, presidential jet, potholes, fuel prices, press freedom, FDC, NRM,…it is everywhere you turn. the papers, the radio, tv, in the bar, even the woman that sells cassava roots in the market will have something to say about how the soaring prices have everything to do with a MUNYANKOLE president. the last thing you wnat to do is come to blogger and find it. I guess we are just tired. There is only so much whinning we can do.

And while I am particularly fond of whinning, of both the political and nonpolitical types, Jackfruity blogs to point out that Citizen Media doesn’t have to be about politics:

One of the most important things to come of out last month’s
Global Voices Summit is that the political voices aren’t the only ones that need to be amplified. Cultural and social voices are equally important to an understanding of other places, and several recent posts attempt to present readers with a more nuanced view of countries that are only discussed internationally when a crisis brings them to our attention.

Meanwhile, another expat in Uganda laments the difficulties of trying to get more Citizen Media started. She asks, Can Citizen Media Change Uganda?

In short, no. During Elizabeth Kameo’s training on writing and gathering news, it became apparent that some of the participants were not convinced of the changes citizen journalism can incur. Most in the crowd did not believe that writing a blog post would motivate the Ugandan government into action. They’re probably right. Chances are the Ugandan government will pay little attention to a scattering of blogs – many left stagnant for long periods of time. There is a slim probability that someone posting about Kampala’s man-holes – pot holes that can engulf a man, more often a small child, that are found on sidewalks and other obscure places – will be filled once an MP reads about it. Chances are the government will not pass the domestic relations bill into an act. Or will they train policemen to respect recently passed legislation on rape, domestic abuse and circumcision.

Though people aren’t blogging much about the things listed above here, perhpas that’s because the need is less urgent than for people in other countries who do write more political blogs. (This is a statement with no empircal evidence, just a conjecture I’d be happy to abandon in the face of any such evidence.) An Associated Press article here showed how Zimbabweans are using blogs and text messages as a source of information. The article implies that people are using these means because there aren’t other means avaliable.

Maybe all of us living in Uganda should be glad that blogs have not yet had to serve this kind of function and that leisure and a relatively stable situtation in this country allows for putting up photos of kittens (which, by the way, ARE SO CUTE) and bashing Facebook groups.

After all, I love kittens and bashing Facebook almost as much as whining, of both the political and nonpolitical kind.

I didn’t realize the temporary and shared housing sections were not yet up on the Homes and Plots when I wrote my last post. Check back later for more updates. And since I’ve gotten several emails already, here’s my two shillings on where to stay in Kampala when you first arrive:

Budget: Red Chili Backpacker Hostel is where everyone who has everything they own in one pack tends to stay. Wifi, a bar and restaurant on the premises. CONTACT: off Port Bell Road, Bugolobi. Tel: 0772 509150, 0752 584054. Tel/Fax: (041) 223903. E-mail: chilli@infocom.co.ug.

Mid-Range: For about $40 to 50, you can stay in the Acacia Apartments, which have a convenient Kololo location. They are nicely furnished, have a full kitchen and good security. A place to stay if you have a lot of stuff or want more privacy than a dorm-like hostel. Cheaper for extended stays. CONTACT: John Babiiha Avenue, Tel: 0772 471 624. E-mail: sustainenergy@usec.org.uk.

Higher End: The Speke Hotel is in the center of Nakasero, the downtown part of Kampala, and (apparently – I’ve never seen them) has nice rooms. But you can’t beat the location. Watch out for boda drivers and special hires who will charge you more if you grab one in front of the hotel. Best to walk about five meters and then get a better price. CONTACT: 7/9 Nile Avenue. Tel: (0414) 235332/5, 259221, Fax: (041) 235345. E-mail: speke@spekehotel.com.

For more places to stay, and a general resource about Kampala, visit The Eye Magazine’s website and then pick up a hard copy when you get to town for a lot of useful contacts.

TO FIND A ROOM IN A HOUSE: After you arrive, check out the message boards at Garden City, Kisementi, Katch the Sun, Cafe Pap, and Web City. Answer ads, or put up your own.

TO FIND YOUR OWN PLACE: Not easy, by any means. That’s where Homes and Plots can help. Check out the sections on brokers and services, and check back often for more updates on the site. Note: a lot of brokers will try and put you in a pre-furnished place. This will cost more money, and often the furniture is the kind of hideous that only the combination of magenta and orange can produce. Some are nice, though. If you’re staying in Kampala for more than six months, it’s best to get a place unfurnished, save on rent, and buy stuff on the side of the road.

I get a lot of emails from people who are moving to Uganda who want to secure housing before actually arriving. Or at least research a bit. Up until now, I’ve always told interested parties to just sit tight and figure it out eventually.

That is no longer the case. Uganda Homes and Plots is a project by a friend, long in the pipeline, now on the web. I wish something like this had been around when I was looking for housing in Uganda, because trust me, it sucks. Really.

If you’re interested in more information on the web site or housing in Uganda or the project in general, let me know and I’ll put you in touch with the site’s creator. Check back to Uganda Homes and Plots as the site develops, look for the free magazine in Kampala, and watch the housing market in Uganda go virtual.

Awhile back, I wrote about how I was doing a story that involved newspaper personal ads.

The story proved much harder to report than I had expected. My idea was to speak with people who were living with HIV about finding partners through the personals. Every week, I culled the adverts and sent emails and text messages to people who identified as HIV positive in their ads.

I received few replies. And some people bothered to reply only to tell me never to contact them again. One woman replied, but then wouldn’t meet me. One woman set a meeting time with me and didn’t show. Another man replied but really only seemed interested in dating me. Another person met me only to complain about how someone had found his email address in the New Vision and subsequently conned him out of several hundred dollars.

Needless to say, I spent a lot of time trying to report this story, and a very small amount of time actually reporting it. The result is here. One of my only successful interviews was with this lady, who was thoughtful and funny – I could have spoken with her for hours. About six pages of single spaced typed notes were whittled down to this 600 word story.

It would have been great if I could have talked to a bunch of people and gotten multiple perspectives, written a really interesting feature that showed a real trend emerging, but as it is, I had a few sodas with a very nice lady.

Joanna: “Dating is hectic, so I put a personal ad in the paper”

KAMPALA, Joanna*, 25, an HIV-positive schoolteacher who lives in the Ugandan capital, Kampala, decided to take a chance on love by putting a personal advertisement in the newspaper. She spoke to IRIN/PlusNews before her first date with a man who responded.

“I’ve only dated one person who doesn’t have HIV. It’s kind of hectic, because you don’t know your future or how it’s going to be. You’re not ready to pass on the infection to this other person. That’s why I put up my ad in the Meeting Point section of the New Vision [a national daily].

I just wanted to see, would it work? Does it work? But then … I opened my e-mail and there were a lot of e-mails from guys – maybe 20.

I’m going on a date this Sunday. We’re not so sure what we’re going to do – I don’t like sitting down when I’m meeting a person for the first time, so maybe we’ll go somewhere or do something. Somewhere with an activity, not just to talk and eat.

What I liked about him is that when we talk, he treats you like a person. The others were interested in ‘How do you look?’ and I don’t want a person who is interested in how I look, but in my character. We have talked on the phone for three weeks now. He works upcountry – he’s an administrator with some NGO [non-governmental organisation] dealing with HIV.

I hope he’ll be like the kind of person I imagined on the phone; someone who is fun, not someone who has sadness or is into depression. Some people go on and on about their status and that kind of thing – they haven’t gotten over it. I hope he shows some character; I want someone who is free to be himself.

I’m scared, I really want it to work out, but what if it doesn’t? What if we get there and we can’t talk? What if we communicate so much on the phone but then there’s nothing in person?

READ MORE…

With 1,400 members and 645 wall posts, few things ring as true as some of the comments on the Facebook group You know you’ve been in Uganda for too long when…

-You argue with the police officer over the bribe whilst driving yourself to the station
-When Al’s Bar is a form of Speed Dating
-You start referring to people as “this one” and “that one”
-It’s 32 degrees Celsius and you still see people dressed in sweaters and winter parkas
-When you point with your lips and say yes with your eyebrows
-When going to Garden City is even more special because the escalator is on

You go through a period of adjustment at the beginning, where everything is new and different and exciting. Where it’s hilarious that someone’s wearing a sweater when it’s so warm! Where every what? Every sentence can make you what? Can make you laugh.

But really, you know you’ve been in Uganda too long when all those things aren’t even that funny anymore. After awhile, you won’t tell a boda to turn left because he will go up to the right because you didn’t tell him which way to “slope.” You don’t ask for your change, you ask for your “balance.” When bargaining takes less than a minute because you’re so accustomed to it.

So yes, I’m feeling a little too accustomed to Uganda right now. I never get lost in the city because I know where I’m going. I never have crazy phone call encounters where I try to explain who I am and what I’m doing because I already know how to do that in a way that makes sense to people.

I’m going on a vacation soon, thankfully, since it’s much needed. (Anyone been to Addis Ababa before? I have a few days of layover there en route to the final destination.)

Before then, and also for when I return, I’m going to try to get lost. Not literally – but to just walk to places I don’t know, talk to people I don’t need to speak to for a story or a photo or a purpose, and generally try and find new perspective.

Suggestions welcomed.

You know you’ve been in Uganda too long when…

-The pentecostal church in the compound next door keeping you awake until 4 in the morning is cause to spend time googling David Matsanga.

I’m attending the HIV Implementers Conference this week. It’s a whole bunch of PEPFAR officials in town for a few days.

A few facts about the conference, compared to facts about ARVs:

1,500 people attending the conference
$22 for lunch

$33,000 for lunch. In Kampala, you can get a nice local lunch for about Ush 3,000 ($1.50). The conference goes from Wednesday to Saturday, so that’s 4 lunch sessions, for a total of $132,000.

$15 Generic ARVs for one month

Therefore, if all these delegates forgo their pricey lunch, 8,800 people could be on ARVs for a month, or 733 people for a year.

Just wanted to plug an event taking place this weekend…

La Fontaine, Kisementi, Saturday, 24 May

Nagenda

This one-night-only event will act as a fund raising event to help Nagenda International Academy of Art and Design (www.nagenda.org) open its doors in September 2008. Our featured artist is Kizito Maria Kasule, Makerere University Professor and Founding Director of NIAAD.

NIAAD will be the first of its kind in East Africa! Slated for official opening in September 2008, NIAAD will be a self-sustaining institution where local and international artists will hone their creative and entrepreneurial skills. Located on the edge of Lake Victoria, NIAAD will provide a lush backdrop for students, instructors and volunteers to gather at a top-notch facility. Artists will be inspired to promote local arts and crafts techniques; learn cutting edge design technology and encourage one another through a network of alumnae and international artists. NIAAD is a fully registered community-based organization within Ssisa sub-county Wakiso District in Central Uganda.

NIAAD’s mission is to establish a continuous and self-sustaining center where mediums of artistic expression will be learned and appreciated. Their objectives include:

1) to establish a local and international arts training center for people of Uganda and beyond;

2) to preserve, promote and utilize indigenous art and craft skills through training and research, fostering a sense of community pride and shared history;

3) to create employment in the arts by training school dropouts, orphans and other disadvantaged people;

4) to provide art training in a high-caliber academy setting to students whose primary and secondary schools cannot employ art teachers;

5) to provide and equip ordinary people with art and designing entrepreneurship skills which they can use to market their art and craft products.

NIAAD will not open its doors without the help of art lovers like you! Please join us for this special event and schedule your tour of the NIAAD center with us!

Ugandan Insomniac raves aboutWar Dance. She got to see it today at the Amakula festival. Unfortunately, I was busy. I’ve wanted to see War Dance for some time, ever since I heard about it months ago, sometime circa the Oscars.

It’s the story of some kids in Pader, lives torn apart by decades of conflict with the Lord’s Resistance Army, finding hope in a dance competition held in Kampala.

I’ve seen many a live Acholi dance. In Kampala and elsewhere. Conference organizers tend to have a bunch of Acholis perform at places like the Serena, in the front of lots of foreigners attending plenary sessions in rooms filled with identical chairs.

Seeing a dance, especially like the one I have photographed here, somewhere outside Kitgum, is pretty amazing. (Seeing it in the conference hall at the Serena is less amazing.) But there’s something that is it’s own kind of amazing about a film. And there’s something that’s an even greater kind of amazing about seeing a film taking place somewhere you’ve been.

But it seems that films about Africa rarely screen in Africa. And I’ve missed my chance to see this film, captured in Uganda, in Uganda. The film festival continues, and I’ll have the chance to see some other mediocre hits like The Science of Sleep, and maybe another flick or two.

Meanwhile, at Garden City, Kampala’s shopping mall courtesy of Janet Museveni, the Cineplex currently is playing Iron Man. While we get most American movies here a few months late, big production companies are starting to realize they lose revenue from ripped DVDs when they delay international releases.

(Cineplex has a website - last updated in December of 2007)

I’m excited about seeing a comic book figure on big screen, but I’d rather see an Acholi.

And forget about me, what about an Acholi seeing an Acholi on the big screen? I’m no film studies expert (I have a very useful degree in Art History) but there’s something about seeing a movie about your group that is somehow a meaningful experience. It’s a trace, proof that you’re there and people know about you and what’s happening to you. They can see you, and you can see yourself anew through their sight.

I’m glad for festivals like Amakula. But the chance for Africans to see Africans on screen shouldn’t be limited to a week a year through a festival sponsored by donors.

New stories I’ve written for PlusNews.

Hard labor for HIV-positive IDPs in Kampala
KIREKA, 1 May 2008 (PlusNews) – Melia Alanyo, 46, left northern Uganda for the capital city, Kampala, in the late 1980s when the rebel Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) started abducting, attacking and killing people in her village.

She has spent the last 20 years in Kireka, a low-income suburb on the city’s outskirts, collecting and breaking rocks into chips at a local quarry. For every 20-litre jerry can she fills, she earns 100 Ugandan shillings (US$0.06). On a good day, when she is feeling strong and can take the sun beating down on her back as she chips away at the rocks, she takes home about 1,000 Ugandan shillings (US$0.60). (MORE…)

Hear Our Voices: I tell everyone I’m HIV positive
KIREKA, Carmela Acen fled her home in northern Uganda when the rebel Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) began its insurgency campaign in 1986. She told IRIN/PlusNews about her life in Kireka, a poor township in the capital, Kampala.

“I couldn’t stay longer in Kitgum [district in northern Uganda]. Two uncles and two relatives were killed. I couldn’t stay in my village, Lukung.

“I went to Kampala and stayed with a sister in Kibuli [suburb of Kampala], and then moved to Kireka. I am caring for 28 children left behind by my brothers and sisters and in-laws. Most of the parents have died of AIDS, one of cholera and the others in the war. (MORE…)