Drink!

Blankets and Wine Festival

Marwa--the correct way to hold the straw

Ugandan’s love their alcohol—in fact the Jammers look puritan in comparison. Wiki Fact: “In the 2004 WHO Global Status Report on Alcohol, Uganda ranked as the world's leading consumer of alcohol (per capita).”

The beer is mostly lager, comes in huge bottles and can be strong. Local brew is “Nile,” and Nile Special can be lethal. Wine, unfortunately, is expensive (min $7 per bottle) and usually very bad. At the "Blankets and Wine" festival we went to on Sunday, we drank the free beer.
In the real Ugandan bars, they don't understand the concept of mixed drinks; you get a bottle of alcohol and a bottle of coke. The local liquor is horrible gin called Waragi, which is mainly moonshined, but can be bought too. In fact, when yellow fever had is big resurgence in 2011, it took a month for them to identify yellow fever because they only link between the dead was that they had all drank Waragi. They suspected alcohol poisoning.
If you want a real Ugandan drink in Kampala, you must go to the slums for Marwa--traditional warm millet beer. I mean warm, almost hot beer in a bucket with long bamboo straws. Tastes a little like sour dirt. The men all sit around drinking while a woman periodically fills up the beer.

 Marwa drinking with Ted, the awkward white guy

When I first tried some, I swatted at and told "poison" because of the way I was holding the straw. I laughed and said that there was no way I could be poisoned just because I held the straw wrong. "No, no, no, I don't care about you, I care about me. You will poison me!" Apparently Marwa drinking is an old custom that was used to settle disputes, but holding the straw too close to your mouth means you could be slipping poison into the straw.

Tormenting children. Man in the blue hat is drinking Waragi

Luckily our expat subculture has an answer to Marwa; we started our own brewing club. I'm an honorary member because I brought the brew kit from the US, but I'm much better at drinking than brewing. I must admit that one of our batches tasted only a little better than Marwa, and was about as sanitary since one inebriated "brewer" blew their nose into a tissue used to cover the brew.
I'll be sticking to Nile. 

Never Smile at a Crocodile (on the Nile)

Morning on the Nile

The Source of the Nile (at Lake Victoria) as seen from a parking Lot

            We actually did something! This weekend Julie, Lexie and I went to the source of the Nile in Jinja with the intention to do a booze cruise because Lexie didn’t want to raft. We woke up Saturday at 5:45 and we walked about an hour to the bus stop. Leaving the city I realized just how lush and jungle-y Uganda is. Some of the Muzungos with us (which strangely enough included Greg, the Minnetonka graduate) had rafted before, and the 2-hour bus ride was long enough to talk us into rafting. We arrived in Jinja around 10 am and got free breakfast (Rolex of course), were fitted for helmets and life-jackets, and we bussed about 1 hour to the starting point on the Nile.

On the Nile, we were given a comprehensive “Danger Lecture.” Dangers include but are not limited to dislocations, head injuries, paddles to the face, the sun, dehydration, crocodiles, hippos, bilharzia and drowning. We were told to explain any of the medical conditions we had in Muzungo-land, and if we were ridiculous enough to be allergic to bees, to bring our epi pens. We were instructed what (not) to do when we were thrown from the raft and floating (hopefully) down the rapids: 1. Never stand up, which in retrospect is ridiculous because I never managed to find my feet in the water. 2. Never swim to shored (again, “swimming” in the rapids was a joke). There was a kayaker shadowing each raft and one “Rescue Raft” to catch the strays.

I was part of the only all-female raft on the river and our rafter-guide was the head-guide called Pachu (not his real name). Pachu had 6 wives, an unknown number of children and was absolutely full of it. At first I was relieved that we had the head guide, however this was short lived when he decided we would skip practicing flipping our raft because he hated getting wet. We did practice getting back in the raft, which we all failed to do, and so were unceremoniously dragged aboard. Then, because I was the shortest, I was relegated to the very back of the raft, where I was sure my chances of being thrown off were the greatest.

We set of for our first rapids, a grade 5, I later googled. There was a mini waterfall that had us all screaming like we were on a roller-coaster then coughing up the Nile we had swallowed. On our second rapids, we flipped, but I somehow managed to keep a death-hold grip onto the boat and my oar. We flipped the boat back without too much trouble and I even got back in on my own. Pachu offered me a job. Our second flip threw me from the raft. I spun underwater for what seemed like forever (but which we had been told was only 10 seconds) trying not to panic until I found the surface and was rushed down the river. Suddenly a kayak appeared and I grabbed on, he started paddling but I lost my grip and was swept away again (wondering if crocodiles were attracted to blood).  He had to come back and get me, unimpressed. I was hauled into the raft, my limbs intact, my dignity less so. Pachu took away the job offer.

Our Camp Site

It would perhaps have helped if we had done any research at all into this. We had no idea how long the rafting would be (6 hours), how many rapids there were (8) or what grade they were (4s and 5s). Asking our guide wasn’t helpful because he never gave a serious answer. He would frown and say “I think we lost 5 muzungos in this one so this must be a 5, but this is only my second week so I’m not sure, hahaha. ” He was very entertaining and had us laughing the whole time. He enjoyed telling us a rapid was a 5 and to “GET DOWN!” then laugh when we went through the tiniest rapids hunched down clinging on for dear life. In fact, most of what he told us was a lie, so you can understand that when he told us we would skip a rapid by getting our and carrying the raft around it, we didn’t believe him. He actually had to drag us out off the raft. 

Monkey at breakfast

In between the rapids, it was a leisurely float/swim, admiring the beautiful jungle shores and hallucinating animals. In total we flipped 3 times, which was the least of any raft, because, of course, women are better at everything. Our raft was also full of medical students; us three from the US, two from Denmark, one from South Africa and a pre-med from the US. We used sunscreen and managed not to get burned, and all I came away with were a few bruises and scrapes. Lunch was a quarter of a pineapple and (dodgy) biscuits. We were given dinner and beer on the shore of the Nile, bundled into the bus, where we were also given unlimited beer. The ride turned into a jolly sing-along with everyone singing their national drinking songs (the Koreans sang Gangnam-style). By the time we got back to the campsite it was dark, so we missed sunset on the Nile. We optimistically set our alarms for 6am so we could catch the sunrise, but it stormed all night and there was a tin roof…not much sleep was had. It was raining and chilly in the morning, but it soon cleared up and became another sweltering day. We walked into Jinja and looked around the craft shops. Despite being the second largest city in Uganda, Jinja is about the size of Excelsior*** (see below). Then we got the 3:30 bus back to Kampala and arrived around 7:30pm, exhausted.

Eagle/Owl? Need a bird book...

I should mention that we never bother to visit the actual source of the Nile, since we heard it was an uninspiring plaque with a shrine to Ghandi, whose ashes were sprinkled there, and (more importantly) cost 10,000 shillings ($4). That is 4 beers, or dinner. Instead we went to the car park of a hotel and took a picture further away (see below). All in all the trip was fantastic, and I would absolutely raft the Nile again. I’ll be back in Jinja for research soon, so maybe I can take Pachu up on my job offer.


Addendum: On my second visit to Jinja for work, I discovered that it is a lot bigger than we thought (aka we gave up walking half way through). I think our overdose on every type of Nile skewed our judgement.

                                                                                          

Floods

Post #3:

 I've felt like things have being a little difficult lately. I burned my hand badly on steam, broke my shoe and my glasses. I also fried my computer charger and I'm finding it difficult to replace... The power has been very bad lately and it often feels like we are camping, especially when all my things are wet (see below).

However, I'm having too much fun to care! Also the fact that I have so much free time (compared to med school) makes the little challenges more fun than burdensome. Everyone here laughs so much it's hard to take anything too seriously. Since I don't have any real updates, here are some aspects of Kampala life:

Nightlife:

Kampala is (self-titled) the African city that never sleeps. But actually this isn’t saying much since the small village in Malawi where I lived never slept either. However, Kampala is famous for having a great, safe nightlife relative to other African cities. I went out to a few places, all of which had fantastic music and dancing with $1 beer and $3 tequila.

There was party on Saturday and we met lots of expats and locals. There are a million NGOs here, and everyone apart from us few medstudents works for them. I also met a guy who graduated Minnetonka High School in 2003 and knows the Shelps...small world! Then we went out dancing and all made it home safely. Knowing locals helps.

Weather:

            Temps range 70-85. All year. Basically you sweat climbing the hills to work, but its not uncomfortable. We are in the smaller wet season, but the (torrential) downpours typically don’t last long and most of the day is sunny. However, yesterday there was a huge storm that lasted hours with hail that broke a window in my bedroom, so my entire bed is wet and my room is completely flooded with 2inches of water…I did have the chance to test out my iphone water-proof case. It works.

The evil storm coming in

another storm coming in over Mulago hospital

Culture:

Well that’s a big word and I’ve only been here a week, but like all East-Africans, Ugandans are very friendly. People go out of their way to help you and greetings take 1 minute at least. The language in Kampala is Luganda. I know a few words but really English gets you everywhere.

As far as religion, most people are very devout Christian, but there is also a large Muslim and Hindu population, as well as Bahai’i. In fact if I were blind I’d think it was all Islam since you can here the calls to prayer from most places in Kampala. I’m going to a Bahai’i service this weekend, apparently the choir is amazing.

Laundry

 

Post #2: One week later

First week in Kampala!

 

Kampala slums as seen from  Lexie and Julie's house

Just like the city itself, the learning curve is steep in Kampala. Things I learned very quickly: Walk on the left of the hill to get to the Hospital, the other side is where the sewage runs down; Shower whenever the water is hot, you never know when there will be a blackout; Everyone introduces themselves with "You are welcome," don't say "for what?"; Barter for everything. People even do it for medical care...

Kampala is a mix of dirt poor slums right next to gorgeous compounds/mansions. I'm currently staying with a friend in a very nice house about 30 mins matatu (bus) ride from the hospital/lab where I work. It's a very high standard of living for us expats. I went to the expat gym, where for $5 I got access to a beautiful pool, classes, gym equipment etc. At my friend's house, we have a maid, Justine, who cleans and does washing every single day. She is lovely, and took me to her house in the slums to meet her son who had malaria (he was fine). She is also trying to teach me Lagunda, it's a losing battle.

Justine washing

The living room

I'm about a 20 minute walk (uphill both ways) from the hospital and lab, where I "work." The hospital itself is divided into "New Mulago," which is relatively modern and "Old Mulago," where I am. Old Mulago is a huge, sprawling, outdoor hodgepodge of one-story buildings intermixed with people's huts situated on (like everything in Kampala) a steep hill. This way there are sort of floors. I'm lost most of the time. Of course, the lab is at the top and the food is at the bottom. I spend most of my time in the lab or blue metal container in the hospital. Called "the container." It can get pretty hot.

Work at the lab is slow, waiting for samples to come in. People don’t seem to work all that much, but I learned all the Kampala gossip (mainly pastors knocking people up). Lab hygiene is lax, as in there was a woman breastfeeding her child at the lab bench today.

Ugandan scaffolding

Kampala is an interesting mix of Africa and Indian influences. For instance, "traditional" street food includes samosas and chapattis. Many of the Indian people kicked out by Idi Amin were repatriated in the 1980s. This means there is shampoo. Also the expat influence ensures some necessities: Heinz baked beans, marmite, cadbury's, galaxy, hp sauce. I realize this paragraph is mostly about food, I had meant to talk about culture...but it's me. 

More to come, I have to upload more pics, such as me drinking local warm millet beer through a bamboo straw in the slums...

First day in Kampala

Visa!

So...here goes my first post, and it's on 2 hours of sleep. I arrived in Kampala at 11am today, pretty much whole and unarmed, I mean unharmed. We had a layover in London for 11 hours and managed to walk around Westminster and have a proper English lunch. Also found a new German larger, Staropramen, just to annoy Dad. Of course got some chocolate too. Then another 8.5hr flight to Uganda, which contained the most white people on a flight bound to Africa I have ever seen. In fact there were only a handful of Africans, which makes me wonder... "Customs" was a breeze, they did not even look at my yellow fever vaccine waiver, or care about my humira. They just wanted $50 for a visa.

 Flying into Entebbe was very beautiful, with misty hills and Lake Victoria. See an appropriation below. Then a 1.5 hour car ride into Kampala, where I PUT MY HUMIRA IN THE FRIDGE MOTHER and went to a cafe for wifi.

"Just because the Royal Ascot Goat Races are canceled this year doesn’t mean you have to miss out on all the four-legged fun.  Come dressed in your best garden party chic.  Wear your fascinators if you have them!  No cover charge, open bar and free food including chicken, goat and beef choma.  Live music by Urban Chillaz.  And, of course, GOATS."

So far I can say Kampala is very similar to Blantyre or Lilongwe in Malawi, apart from bigger, busier and a little more developed. It's also very hilly, so I'm counting that as Kilimanjaro training. I did see a bus with "Promote Coffee Drink" written on it, so clearly they knew I was coming. Also other funny things such as "Specializing in Japanese level of hygiene," not sure what that is referring to. Also unfortunately missed the goat rodeo today!

I'm sure nobody expected anything profound here, or even relevant, but I promise not to just write lists, though anyone who knows me knows how I love to write lists!