Uganda Chapter Two - Coke vs. Pepsi

To see a complete set of photos from day one, click here.

Lisa and I spend one day in Kampala before heading off on Safari. Kampala has all of the charming characteristics of a third world city that many readers of this blog have come to know and love in their own travels, including but not limited to:

- Smog and exhaust fumes so thick it makes Los Angeles feel like a nature preserve

- Meat product that nobody can identify for you

- A convenient four-tiered pricing structure that operates as such (from cheapest rate to most expensive rate): non-white locals, non-white foreigners, white Europeans, white Americans

- "Flexible" times when the internet, or for that matter electricity, are available

- Traffic signals and lane dividers that are more mere suggestions rather than an enforced way to protect drivers and pedestrians

I get my usual itch on to get out of the city as fast as possible.

Lisa and I meet up for breakfast. Two things are realized at breakfast.
1. I cannot find my Mephaquin, and without it I am pretty much assured that I will return home with malaria
2. Lisa and I have both neglected to purchase travel insurance.

Problem one is luckily solved by the fact that Mephaquin is stocked in a pharmacy nearby. I paid $11USD for a one-month supply. Wanna know what I paid for a three week supply stateside before I left? Not $11USD, that's for sure.

Problem two *could* be easily solved if we could get on the internet. However, please see above note about questionable ability to use said internet. And so the next day we leave Kampala with no travel insurance. This becomes like a joke to me as the trip goes on. Let me remind you, if you break a leg in Uganda, you want a med-evac to come and get you and take you to the nearest westernized hospital. You do not want local treatment. Lisa went to a local clinic and watched them stick a straight pin in the top of an IV to get it to drip properly. Sterile, much? And so, as the trip went on, we would be in the jungle having to jump over some muddy river, or we'd be hiking on a four inch "trail" with a 100 foot mudslide directly to the left, or we'd be driving across a river on a flooded bridge with water up to the windows of the Land Cruiser, and I'd just look whomever was standing next to me and say, "I DO NOT HAVE TRAVEL INSURANCE."

We really did dodge a bullet by not getting hurt. When we got to Lake Mburo at the end of the trip, we mentioned to Dom, the lodge keeper, that we had done this trip without travel insurance and he looked at us in horror. Don't use me as an example. Don't travel Africa without travel insurance.

Lis and I decide that we want to hire a driver for the day to take us around and show us Kampala. Lis is a better negotiator than I am, but I know that she will kill me if I don't get the rate down to at least the white European rate. This is how I get the rate down. I am in the booking office with the cute little safari reservation girl, and a boy comes in to visit her. The three of us end up getting into a conversation about how the boy drinks too much and is becoming an alcoholic.

Boy
I am getting older every day. Time is slipping away.

Me
You're just a baby.

Boy
I am thirty years old.

He looks all of twenty.

Me
There is no way you're thirty years old. I don't believe you.

Reservations Girl
Ugandan men will always inflate their age to get respect. Be careful of that as you explore Uganda.

Me
I wasn't planning to explore Uganda in that way.

Reservations Girl
You deserve another $20 off.

And that's how we got the rate down to the white Europeans rate.

And so, our driver is Geoffrey. First stop - the Buganda kings' tomb. The Buganda are the largest tribe in Uganda, and typically the Bugandan king is also the "king of kings." It's certainly the most powerful tribe in Uganda. At the tombs, we hire a second guide, whose name is Nicholas. And in my favorite moment of the day, as we are standing in the MUD HUT waiting for him to be ready, we notice that the other people in the MUD HUT are all watching Mr.Big on a refurbished Dell. Welcome to Africa.



The tombs are my favorite thing that we do that day, but mostly because of Nicholas. He's *very* political (in fact, he even wrote a little book on the history of the Buganda tribe, which I now own and will read later. Much later.). I learn a lot about Uganda from him. Lisa has to put a skirt on over her jeans since women in trousers are not allowed into the tombs, and then some man from Cameroon tries to marry her. The tombs are fun.




Most of the rest of our day is spent looking at the large religious structures in Kampala as well as the king's compound and some of the nicer government buildings. Pictures are better than words here, so here you go. And yes, every time I took a picture of some African school children walking home, I got a little bit whiter myself.





My favorite stop though is the Miracle Center. The born-agains have found their way to Kampala and they will not be stopped. They have built a huge worship center that may just be the single nicest building in Kampala. It has a cafe (because all that worshiping can wear you out), a girls' ministry and a whole parking lot of double decker buses to bring the flock home. And I, of course, am torn. Because this is Africa, and let's be real, the born again contingent is doing some good, important work there that nobody else seems to want to do. But I'm American. And where I come from, born agains tell my friends that they're sinners and resort to violence often times in the name of Christ. But I will say this: in Africa it is the same as in America, the born agains have the biggest, baddest building anywhere. That is all.



I have two favorite Geoffrey stories.

The first happens as we're driving past the Bugandan king's compound. Lisa looks wistfully out of the window and says, "We're all created equal. Just some of us are more equal than others." And Geoffrey turns around, smiles and pulls out his very own copy of "Animal Farm" from under the seat. Yes, people, yes, Orwell speaks to anybody in a society where there are social classes. And there are certainly social classes in Uganda.



The second story happens as we're driving to dinner at Lisa's friend's house. Coke and Pepsi seem to own Uganda, and there's signage for them everywhere. I randomly make the comment that I'm glad to see that, even in a third world environment, the battle between Coke and Pepsi rages on. Geoffrey turns around. He is suddenly more excited and more passionate than I have seen him all day long. He launches into what is no less than a five minute lecture on the history of Coke and Pepsi in Kampala. Apparently, at one time, EVERYBODY drank Pepsi. But then Coke became more prevalent and now EVERYBODY drinks Coke (Geoffrey drinks only Coke, you know). But then Pepsi changed their formula so that they would be sweeter, and now people are starting to change back. It's the most detailed explanation of Ugandan social behavior I've gotten all day. Passionate about the religious elements of Kampala? Not so much for Geoffrey. Passionate about the political structure of Kampala? Not so much for Geoffrey. Passionate about the taste test battle between Coke and Pepsi? You know it.

We end the day with a lovely dinner with Lisa's friends, where I fall asleep on the couch, which is something I'm getting good at lately. I go to bed thankful that we're headed out o f the city in the morning...

To see a complete set of photos from day one, click here.