Highway to Kampala

Kampala, Uganda 19 October 2010

Flying out of Nairobi I was struck by the vast expanse of brown desert; from the air Nairobi seemed an island of life on a hostile plane, at least with my limited survival skills. My next view out a window was of the immense Lake Victoria on Kenya’s western boarder. Though much shallower, its surface area is between that of Lake Superior and Lake Michigan. Beyond the lake lay Uganda, in rolling hills of green and red. Green trees, green grass, red earth, red roofs. Amid so much greenery I was surprised by the quantity of dust everywhere; I could feel it in my nose as I breathed. I have never seen a brighter sun – beautiful, yet painfully blinding on a clear day. The region seems so life-sustaining.

The highway from Entebbe to Kampala had steady traffic, auto and pedestrian. The taxis (bus-vans) are all highly robust Toyotas (most of my first ride to work involved at least one wheel on the sidewalk or rutted shoulder, wherever potholes didn’t prevent us using this maneuver to overtake – on the outside – the long single line of traffic. On each side of this long single line of traffic, the bodabodas – passenger mopeds – weave through any empty space. Add this to their driving on the British side of the road, and then imagine crossing these roads as a pedestrian without crosswalks, lights, or signs, hurrying across side-walk encroaching taxis, then weaving bodabodas, pressing traffic, another line of rapid bodabodas…and then the same thing traveling in the opposite direction. But I digress.)

The roads in Kampala are ridden with potholes and ruts, but the highway from Entebbe was smoothly paved, including a wide shoulder. This stressed the cultural justaposition of a woman walking on the shoulder, carrying on her head a rolling suitcase. Most of the men wear well-pressed long-sleeved western business clothes, looser than at home which makes sense in the heat.

The roadside buildings appear concrete, though most seem very fragile because the concrete is hidden behind corrugated iron roofs hanging over a porch crowded with whares. Where the concrete is visible it’s painted with colorful advertisements, as though each house is a billboard.