Market Shopping in Kampala
Trip Start
Jun 22, 2008
1
36
Trip End
Jul 31, 2008
Kampala,
Uganda
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Breakfast- beans, eggs, toast and fruit. Yum. There was not much left to do at the hostel. We gathered our things, loaded the bus and left for our last day in Kampala.
Kampala was the crown jewel of Uganda. If only visiting this developed capital, one would assume Uganda was a 1st world country. Part of it was. The British brought about this dichotomy. They governed the administrative affairs of their Empire in the South and the militaristic in the North. The Ugandans had no national identity. With the tribal differences fully exploited, the British created a rift still demanding repair.
Shopping wasn't the same with this awareness. I felt culture shock. Here I came from Gulu- a city with limited job opportunity and sporadic development, into a pseudo America. High rise malls encompassed newly paved streets and million dollar homes. My 2 hours in the retail stores resulted in only a candy bar and diet coke. There was nothing more I desired.
I definitely have an affinity for craft markets. You get the lowest prices on goods that for the most part are hand made. Taking out 40,000 schillings, I was optimistic in my purchasing power. My money was gone after only three shops. In this small hub, it was hard to tell where one story ended and another began. Most offered the same products at the same prices. Hand crafted goods, fabric and souvenirs were the general products. Some highlights of goods bought: An authentic drum for only $11,000 Schillings; Gifts for all my friends with the remaining $29,000.
Continuing with the theme of the trip, our time here was cut short by the next item on the agenda. Back at Back Packer's we showered, checked e-mails and prepared for dinner.
Dinner was at a Mediterranean Café. It had been 4 years since I had been to the Mediterranean. That was of course during my exploits in Europe which included visits to Italian antiquity and Greek beauty. Needless to say, I was excited to re- visit my long term memory. At the Café, I went in on a platter which included lamb, chicken, pita bread and fries. The plate fed four yet pleased twenty. The smell alone sufficed.
While most elected to have dessert, I instead found a nearby couch for my post meal nap. I fell fast asleep as the lamb made its way to be processed in my small intestine. I awoke 15 minutes later to find the whole group surrounding me. It was picture time. They were disappointed to have awoken me. The picture would now be contrived and unnatural. Oh well. The picture spoke volumes. Sure, it represented the conclusion of a satisfying meal, but more importantly, it was the culmination of a once in a lifetime experiences. Our smiles indicated both the former and latter.
Back at the hostel, I got lost in the music. Frankie- my musical accomplice hosted a crowd of appreciative observers. With only a guitar, cigarette and strong singing voice he had already won their hearts. The only missing ingredient was an accompanying rhythm. That's where I came in. Grabbing the drum from the nearby room, I took a seat beside Frankie and seamlessly slipped into the jam session. This was our third and final performance. The English crowd appreciated the diversity. When Frankie forgot the melody, he sang harmony, and visa versa. When there were requests Frankie could not fulfill I led the group in acapella. We finished the night with "Yellow." How appropriate and fitting.
Are you a dog or cat person? This is usually the first question I ask newcomers. This was less to determine their affinity for such household pets and more about determining our potential for friendship. You see, I HATE cats. Cats want everything on their terms. When they want love and affection, they give it to themselves- using your resources. With backs arched, they slide across your body to itch infected areas or satisfy complacent nerves. Once satisfied, they find their reserved spot in the corner to lick their paws. It's all about them! Dogs on the other hand are all about you. Faithful, loyal and loving they are responsive to your pleasure and pain.
It was not a dog that awaited me on my hostel bed. Instead, it was a hostile, satanic cat. I swear this thing was possessed. I have heard animals hiss before. They usually do so when one invades their territory or threatens their overall state of well- being. I did not threaten this cat. I merely extended a hand. You should have seen the fangs on this creature. Saber tooth tigers had apparently been resurrected. Armed with a broom, quick reflexes and intuition, I shooed the cat out of the room. Everyone was grateful- including the cat lovers. My sleeping potential on the other hand was permanently impacted. To say I was allergic to cats was a gross understatement. One had merely to be on the property for me to feel the adverse affects. I was comforted only in knowing that at least his fangs would not be embedded in my neck.
Perhaps the Chimps tomorrow will be more welcoming.
