We All Are One

One thing I like about travelling is the opportunity to take pictures. When you travel even a washed out shoe on the beach sometimes make for a good reminder of where you’ve been. Unfortunately when you travel in Africa taking pictures can sometimes land you in big trouble. That I have learned from a previous experience in Cameroon. I don’t know what it is with my African brothers, but somehow pointing a camera is like an insult to them and you might literally get a rifle pointing towards you if you are not careful.

Yesterday we were traveling from Kampala to Pakwach, a small town situated about 400 km north of Uganda’s capital. I am always very cautious when I take out my camera in African countries; you never know who you might offend. In Cameroon when a colleague of mine took a picture of a dilapidated bridge, we ended up emptying our pockets to get her camera back. The police officer appeared from out of the blue and demanded that we explain ourselves to the “Police Chief” who was apparently sitting in a little shack further back on the road where we came from. When we reached the shack there was no Chief in sight and we eventually had to buy back her camera for 60USD….minus all the pictures that had to be deleted.

Yesterday as we were traveling to Pakwach, I tried to get one or two pictures of the surrounding area. At no point did I deliberately point my camera towards anybody, although in the end I did end up with a few faces on my shots. I took most of the pictures from the car as we were driving and obediently put the camera away when we stopped to take a leak or had biscuits to eat next to the road (no Shell Ultra City stops here). It was when we crossed the bridge near the Karuma Falls where we made the mistake of showing our cameras to any possible observers. The falls are not really that impressive, it is more like impressive rapids. We were more after the “been there, done that” type of pictures, but our driver told us that we were not allowed to stop on the bridge, so we captured them “on the fly”. Strangely enough in South Africa we would’ve constructed a special lookout point for tourists to snap away. In Uganda it’s a different story.

Then it happened….

From out of nowhere a guy in military attire jumped in front of our vehicle. Agreed, with his camouflage suit he was real hard to spot against the green lush background, but he appeared from nowhere just like the guy in Cameroon did. They seem to be masters at this “hide-and-seek” and then “suddenly appear” game. We knew immediately what was about to happen. He spoke in Swahili, clearly showing his disapproval. After about ten minutes of negotiations between himself and our driver, we were allowed to go. Our driver somehow convinced him that we didn’t have money on us and the opportunistic road robber wasn’t armed, so we got off easy this time. Phew, close call.

Our next bridge was the one crossing over the Albert Nile into Pakwach. We crossed the bridge and a police check-point with no problems…and no pictures this time either. The police officers were quite friendly and didn’t really ask any questions. Our driver informed us that we were allowed to take pictures on that bridge, because the last time he crossed the bridge he had tourist with him and they took pictures…no problem. We finished our business in Pakwach and decided that on our way back we would take a picture of the Nile, just for memories’ sake and for my blog of course. As we approached the bridge, we went for our cameras. Man, it was as if Houdini himself made his magic appearing-from-nowhere act, this time with an assistant. From absolutely nowhere TWO military guys appeared next to the vehicle. This time they were armed, so we were a bit more concerned than the first time. They spoke in English, told us to exit the vehicle and to follow them to their “Commanding Officer”. He took the camera from my hands before I could even shout “go!!!” At first we tried to convince them that we would delete the pictures, but they didn’t want to budge…it was “Commanding Officer or no camera back.”

We got out, we had no choice. I wasn’t going to leave my camera there. Unlike the previous time when the “Police Chief” was just a clever way of getting us out of the car, this time the Commanding Officer was an actual person in uniform sitting on a tree trunk reading yesterday’s newspaper.  They all spoke in English, which made it a bit easier for us to communicate too. With my big mouth I told them that there is no law against taking pictures and that they are just after our money. This upset them a bit. I could tell by the way they were waving their AK47’s in the air. My colleague was quite diplomatic and listened to their long explanation as to “why we should not take pictures without their permission, blah, blah, blah.” In the meantime he was trying to tell me to shut up as I was protesting for being harassed on my own continent which was not really strengthening our case. My approach was one of “we are all brothers from Africa who should respect each other”, while my colleague was using a more sincere apologetic approach for the “clear misunderstanding”. Obviously he could not play the “We are all One”-card as he is originally from the UK, a ex-colonialist returning to a country where his forefathers wasn't welcome in the first place. At least I was born in Africa, so I had a leg to stand on. I learned however today that the “we are all one” approach only works when you are bargaining for lower prices at the craft markets, not when you have an clearly upset rifle-carrying-man in a camouflage uniform in front of you.

We were told that, even though there are no signposts to inform the unsuspected tourist that taking pictures of bridges were a crime in Uganda, you had to ask permission first. This proves to be quite difficult as you don’t see them before it is too late. I think it makes them feel better if you give them the recognition as their country’s asset protectors. On the other side of the bridge there were two more guys sitting, also heavily armed. That is five people guarding one bridge from tourists’ cameras. I don’t know how many bridges there are in Uganda, but it clearly creates quite a few jobs, even if an outdated newspaper is read during working hours. After my colleague’s apologetic approach their angry faces turned into friendly smiles. We asked permission to keep the pictures we took and the Commanding Officer nodded his head. The two soldiers respected their commander’s decision and we were free to go.  

My colleague grabbed his camera and headed straight back to the car. I asked for a group picture but they rejected my request saying it was not allowed either. I invited them to visit South Africa…without their rifles of course….and promised that I would show them around in South Africa without confiscating their cameras. After all…in Africa “We All Are One”.

Twitchers and Lifers

I am in Kampala, and even though this is in the middle of the city, I am amazed by the bird life that I have seen since my arrival. I am NOT a bird watcher ("twitcher") by any stretch of the imagination and don't know the difference between a hawk and a kestrel (if there is a difference), but I actually regret not having my better camera here to take some pictures. This morning when I left the hotel I saw this huge shadow above me and when I finally gathered that it was not some phoenix or flying ostrich, I was too late to take a picture. It was in fact a Marabou Stork, actually three of them sitting at a tree top and flying around from one side of the road to the other side of the hotel, each time looking very impressive with their huge wingspans. Further above them were some kestrels (or were they hawks?) circling around looking for a morning snack.

Marabou Storks

When I returned to my room this afternoon I heard a loud crawing noise like crows make, but a bit different. At least I could figure that one out. I was however still wondering if it might not be the storks sitting closer for a better picture. When I opened my window I saw something more beautiful than what I saw the morning. And this time I didn't know what these bird were called. (My first "lifer" I guess). I might be completely wrong but from what I could find on the Internet it has to be Black Casqued Hornbills. A pair sitting and watching me like I was a tourist. Damn, I guess I am a tourist. I might not know much about birds, but I can read. So of course after reading a bit about these birds I was starting to understand why some people can get totally carried away with this bird-watching thing. Anyway, these two lovely birds are still sitting outside my window and the best picture I could get with this little useless camera was what you see below.... 

Hornbills

A precious day from my life wasted

I've just arrived in Kampala, Uganda. I left my house at 8am this morning, flew to Johannesburg and then to Entebbe. Entebbe sits next to Lake Victoria (the largest lake in Africa), and from there is it about a 40 km drive to Kampala. When I left this morning I decided to travel without opening my laptop, or reading anything like a book or newspaper. I did bring my iPod along, but for the rest of the time I just wanted to think. I just wanted to take in what was happening next to me, not worry about work or other issues. When I arrived at the airport in Cape Town I was thinking of doing another Budget Breakfast Review, but with only the Wimpy and Mugg & Bean in the departure area, I wasn't really keen on doing that either. I did however take a picture of my breakfast, but I still haven't decided if I want to write about it or not. The flight to Johannesburg was rather uneventful. I took some pictures of a Kulula plane that was standing next to our plane, hoping to write about the "flying 101" lesson that was nicely painted on the side of the plane. But even now I don't really feel like writing anything about that either. I will post the pictures so the you can have a look at it yourself. I just found it very interesting to see to which lenghts Kulula would go to promote their "casual" image. I think it is good, life is so serious, we need to make more fun about life, even if it's just painting something less serious than the airline logo on a million dollar aeroplane.

The gentleman that was sitting next to me was reading a newspaper. You know, why people who sits in the middle seat wants to read a newspaper is beyond me. What I usually do when my neighbour opens his newspaper is to start reading along. This usually makes the guy uncomfortable to a point that he starts folding it into something smaller than a Reader's Digest. Anyway, reading all the news about the Indian bride that was murdered in Cape Town, the Springsboks' poor performance, the outrageous spending sprees of some of our minsisters, etc., gave me enough to think about. Unfortunately I wasn't in the mood to think about all the negativity around me and decided to try and take a nap instead.

In Johannesburg, it was the same routine as usual. Walking to International Departures and waiting for the first boarding call. I packed only hand luggage for my trip, so I spared myself the luggage check-in and all the schlep that goes along with that. I was given a window seat which I had to accept because the lady at check-in at Cape Town told me she could not change it from there. In Johannesburg it would've been too late to still beg for an aisle seat, so I left it like that. At least it is better than a middle seat. And besides, I didn't have a newspaper to annoy the passengers next to me. I was the third person to board the plane, and I was rather surprized to find out that the first two were actually the people that was going to sit next to me. It was a husband and wife in their late fifties. The husband was rather pissed off when I placed my bags in the overhead lockers while he was still fiddling around with his luggage on his seat. When he looked up and saw that I have taken the space, I could see on is face he was not very happy. I'm sorry, if you snooze you lose. It seems like the older you get the longer it takes to settle down and store your luggage, so I guess I had a couple of years on my side.

The plane was delayed by 45 minutes due to thunderstorm activities around Johannesburg. Sitting in a stationary aircraft for 45 minutes feels much longer than in a moving one. The eldery couple next to me did not talk much. Neither did I. When we took of I could understand why we were grounded for 45 minutes, the clouds really looked scary. Captain De Beer was flying this way and that way dodging thunderstorm cells, and eventually apologized for the seatbelt signs that was still on 40 minutes after take-off. I was wondering how much more time we were losing with this zig-zag flying, but at least appreciate the fact that he was trying to miss these thunderstorm clouds...or Cumulonimbus clouds as the are called. I was getting bored with nothing to do. My thoughts went back to the interesting gentleman that was sitting next to me on my previous flight to Uganda. He taught me a couple of valuable life lessons, all resulting from his own life experiences. The woman next to me today was still trying to learn a few life lessons herself. She was reading a book called "Understanding the pupose and power of a woman". Judging by the amount of notes she scribbled down in the book, I could see that her husband was in for a big surprise later on. I was wondering if there might be a book available with a shortened title like "Understanding woman". I think this would've been a better seller than the one she was reading. I didn't want to get into a conversation with this woman, especially not on that topic, so I just kept to my side of the cramped up seat and later decided to watch the main movie. It was one of those typical American movies where everyone lives happily ever after. This was about a 10-year old girl facing the challenges of life after her dad lost his job, as well as her older sister that was giving her a bit of a hard time. The problem with these "feel-good" movies is that you actually feel even more miserable after the end. As soon as the credits start rolling across the screen along with the tears across your cheeks, you realize that in reality things don't really work out like they do in these shallow unreal depictures of real life. Then you are back to your own life which isn't always as rosy as the ones in movies. Anyway, I wasn't expecting life to be like in the movies so I am kind of prepared for "real life" and don't get pulled into these "Pleasantville" plots easily. This one couldn't pull me in either....

Howard Stafford's article

Sawubona Cover



I  didn't finish watching the movie, and to help me against more boredom I decided to page through the Sawubona, SAA's inflight magazine. Here I read a letter about a gentleman who was complaining about the "oversize and overweight crew members" that kept on bumping against him. He was threatening to stop using SAA's services. I was just wondering which airline he was considering after SAA, seeing that most of them are like that nowadays. Gone are the days when air hostesses were recruited for their looks and not for their ability to pick up a fire extinguisher or push top-heavy food trolleys. Personally I don't have a problem when they rub their "bee-hinds" against me, but I guess if they continuously bump my coffee from the cup in my hand then it might be another story. I just don't think I would change airlines because of the size of the crew. I have seen air hostesses from some other European countries that could've been my granny, so I would not complain too much about SAA's crew. I also read the "Light Relief" section by Howard Stafford. He was telling about his recent trip to West Africa and how his tolerance levels were tested by the poor service he received from the hotels he was staying in. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt my friend.

So, what a boring and uneventful day it was for me. I reached my hotel at around 8pm and deciced to read my mails quickly and then to post this uninteresting story of my day. To me this was nothing but wasted time. I wonder what I can do to prevent this from happening again. Maybe read a good book, or travel with a companion instead of doing it alone. Even traveling with someone you don't like is better than traveling alone. Llet's see what Kapala can offer me over the next couple of days. maybe in my next post I will have something more interesting to write about.

Uganda - Pearl of Africa

My trip to Uganda was on such short notice that I never took the time to read up on the country's info before I left. I have travelled to many places in West Africa, but unfortunately I could not say the same for East Africa. I wasn’t expecting much and my only consolation was the fact that it would only be for two nights and that I would at least be able to communicate in a language I am familiar with. Don’t get me wrong, I love Africa, but thinking about unfriendly immigration officers and traffic jams I thought that staying at home with my family would not have been a bad allternative. I was however curious to see Uganda and thought it would be good chance to do so. I like West Africa, but I could write books about corrupt customs officials, poor service, language barriers, stomach bugs and many other little irritations that you find in these otherwise beautiful countries. My first hindrance would be arriving in Uganda without a visa. In Luanda you can also receive a visa on arrival, but you have to be sure that you are in possession of all the required paperwork first. Despite the fact that you queue for an hour (if you are lucky), they sometimes take your passport from you and only give it back a couple of days later. Parting with my passport is not something I particular like doing in countries where the bribery scheme works better than the national lottery.

We arrived in Entebbe 20 minutes before the scheduled arrival time and contrary to what I was expecting, the visa counters were clearly marked and the queue very short. Obtaining the visa was a walk in the park. The queues for travelers WITH visas were much longer than the queue for travelers without visas and after I paid my 50 USD dollars I could just walk through. This took me about 5 minutes and I couldn’t disagree that traveling without a visa to Uganda is probably a better option than actually arriving with one. The only words spoken by the Immigration official was ‘Welcome to Uganda Sir’. ‘How long will you be staying?’ ‘That will be 50 USD’ and ‘Have a pleasant stay in Uganda’. All done with a big smile. Whenever I arrive back in South Africa and I am not met with a similar smile I almost feel we lose the first opportunity to make people feel welcome in our country. After all this is the "first impression" any tourist gets when he or she enters a foreign country. Now the friendly immigration officer alone made me realize that it is probably true what people say about the friendliness of East Africans compared to West Africans. The friendliness of the immigration officers was something I would find during my whole stay was not restricted to only one particular Ugandan citizen, but to the rest of the population as well.

The 40 km drive from Entebbe to Kampala took about 1 hour and when I reached the Sheraton Hotel I already felt that this country had a lot to offer. The roads were much more organized than what I am used to in other countries in Africa that I have visited, the road signs make sense, the drivers are much more courteous and the service at the hotel really made me feel welcome. Just before we entered Kampala we drove by a huge Coca-Cola bottle in the middle of a roundabout. In most African countries you usually find the statue commemorating some freedom struggle or the plight of the African continent. I had to smile and was wondering what the Coca-Cola Company had to do to get that particular spot, you cannot miss it. I foung it quite appropriate for myself because Coca-Cola has been some sort of comfort drink for me on many trips to Africa. My check-in at the hotel was met with the same enthusiasm that I received at the visa counter. I dropped my bags in my room and went for a couple of beers.

I finished my business the next morning without hassles and took some time off to shop at one of the local markets. Even here I could see the difference between East and West African traders. Walking past the stalls I was greeted politely and when I entered I was overwhelmed by their friendliness. In Cameroon I was nearly trampled alive by desperate stall owners pushing and pulling me in all directions in an effort to convince me that their stall has something better to sell. I guess business is must tougher in Cameroon than in Uganda then. After paying for the few items I mentioned to a friend that if this lady was going to thank me one more time then I'm going to ask her hand in marriage. I cannot imagine any man so lucky to have such a beautiful young woman showing so much appreciation for such a simple deed. After I’ve left I even felt bad for bargaining for a better price.

I usually try some local food whenever I go. I remember my first night in Paris when I ordered McDonalds much to the disappointment of my wife back home. It was late, I was hungry, and the menu was the only one I could understand at that crucial point. I can honestly say that after a couple of trips to France I’ve made up for that little faux pas of my first trip. I can even boast with frog legs on my list now. I was advised by a friend back home to try the fish from Lake Victoria, so I went for Tilapia. I can definitely recommend it. There were some interesting meats on the menu as well, but being a South African I have tried many of them before; crocodile, bush buck, springbok, to name but a few. I think the food in Uganda won’t disappoint a good trencherman and it reminded me a lot of what we eat back home. The evening at The Lawns Restaurant was well worth and a live African Jazz band under a hot African sky contributed to the ambience. I couldn’t stay late though because my flight back to Johannesburg was leaving very early the next morning so I headed back after my meal was finished. It was a very short trip and I am sure that I’ve only scratched the surface of what Uganda has to offer. I am pretty sure that I will go back there one day and explore a bit more.