U-gan-da take a road trip? Even better, a road trip without the kids?

One weekend in the fall of 2004, Laura and I decided to go camping over a three-day weekend.  For some unknown reason, we were in a Civil War history type of mood, so prior to securing camping provisions at Whole Foods (of course one can't go into the wilderness without first hitting the olive bar), we visited the Alexandria National Cemetery in Alexandria, Virginia. One of our nation's first national cemeteries, it is the final resting place of several of the soldiers who chased down John Wilkes Booth after he assassinated President Lincoln. After our little jaunt and once we had our fancy, organic, fair-trade camping provisions in hand, we returned our old Toyota truck to discover it was leaking gasoline.  Hmmm.  Camping seemed out of the question, let alone driving back to D.C. or even starting the engine.  We called the insurance company about towing it, who told us to immediately call the fire department.  A firetruck came, which was pretty awesome, then a tow truck, and then the rest is a bit of a blur.  Sadly, the weekend did not involve camping; instead we were saddled with a hefty mechanic's bill.  Thus began our sordid history of ill-fated road trips. Here are but a few of the misadventures:

• 2005: 16 hour drive to Des Moines with a full-sized 60 lb. Hurricane (our late dog) on the bench seat between us; 
• 2007: the extremely sketchy hotel in northern Indiana with the heart-shaped bathtub on the drive back from our wedding;  
• 2010: Driving through North Carolina and trying to find the Greensboro Airport (late for our flight), only to have AppleMaps send us to the runway instead of the terminal;
• 2013: the unexpected snowstorms between DC and Cincinnati at Thanksgiving, both before and after;

Fast forward to June 2016. We had a good plan. Drive to a nice lodge in Western Uganda for our 9th anniversary on Day One.  Have a nice short safari-ish adventure by trekking chimpanzees (or as they call it in Lugandan - folow'ingjeff'reyfein'tech) in the Kibale Forest on Day Two, and then drive home on Day Three in time to celebrate Father's Day with the kids over pizza.  We should have known things were once again going to go south when the night before our departure, S threw T's toothbrush in the toilet, laughed about it, and then five minutes later smacked her mother resulting in a lovely facial wound.  Laura censored the photo, but let it be known that no woman is ever happy on her anniversary if she has a big bloody streak across her face. 

There were actually some earlier indications the trip was doomed, starting with the permitting adventure at the Uganda Wildlife Authority (UWA).  Trekking chimps and mountain gorillas is one of Uganda's most famous and unique attractions - the others being whitewater rafting on the Nile River and climbing mountains on either side of the Great Rift Valley (Mt. Elgon in the east, the glacier-capped Rwenzoris in the west).  As such, the UWA rightly endeavours to restrict access to the endangered animals, and requires all would-be trekkers to pay a hefty permit fee.  Fair enough.  The money supports the growing tourism industry in Uganda and helps protect the country's most vulnerable national resource; we were happy to pay the fee.  What the UWA website does not prepare one for, however, is the developing world pace-of-business that hits you like a runaway freight train when attempting to buy the passes.  Laura walked into the reservations office and was confronted with about 25 people in various states of inaction.  Four booking agents were chatting with tour company agents, only one of whom was actively typing on a computer.  For upwards of ten minutes, she attempted to lock eyes with the booking agents each time they shifted their gaze to her, pressuring them into shooing away the tour company agents.  Eventually she managed to get a hearing and bought one permit, but made only a reservation for the other permit as she didn't have both our IDs with her.  The next day we sent our intrepid driver over to attempt to buy my permit, but the computers were down, so it was "not possible."  We were given instructions to pay at the UWA offices once we got to the Forest.

Great!  All set!  Gas up the car and check the tires on Thursday.  Off we go, Friday morning.  We make good time, get to Fort Portal by 1PM, despite the torrential downpour that starts just as we get to the edge of the Kibale Forest.  The heavy rain should have been another indicator of things to come.

We make it to the beautiful Papaya Lake Lodge by about 3, settle in for a relaxing evening and early dinner to get ready for an early rise the next day as the hike starts at 8 AM.  Papaya Lake Lodge is one of a number of lodges in this region situated on the rim of a crater lake.  It's the second time we visited, and we are always impressed with the design, hospitality, and food.  And the towels - Laura couldn't get over the towels.

A view of the Rwenzori Mountains over Lake Lyantonde, taken from the porch of Papaya Lake Lodge's main building.
No matter how technologically advanced the camera is, pictures don't do the view justice.

We woke the next morning to drizzles. Sebastian and Magda, the proprietors of Papaya Lake Lodge noted it had been clear and sunny for the past three weeks, so of course the weekend we arrive it is overcast and misty.  Saturday morning, it was more than misty and actual rain had turned the roads into jello.  Jello on top of butter.  As we head towards the UWA Kibale Conservation Area main gate where I'm supposed to pay for my permit, our vehicle fishtails for a good mile.  The mud is so slick, we slide back and forth across the road like we're a hockey puck.  We've both driven in some hairy situations in Uganda, but this drive made us both extremely nervous.

After paying at the park's UWA office, the ranger sends us off, giving directions and telling us we have to get there quickly, as the hike sets off in 40 minutes.  We're supposed to drive 10 kilometers, then turn left at the giant chimp statue. Then go another 10 kilometers through the park.  Simple directions, and we're now on gravel.  20 kilometers in 40 minutes should be easy peezy.  Then the gravel turns into dirt, then the dirt turns into mud again.  It's not quite as slick as the last patch, but now there is a 100 meter drop off on the left side, so sliding off the side of the road is not an option.  After about 3 kilometres, we come over the crest of the hill and we can see an accident.  A sedan and matatu (if you recall, one of the van-buses) slid into each other.  The sedan seems immobile and everyone is on the side of the road trying to figure out what to do.  It was probably one of those slow-motion slides like you'd get on snow and ice where there's no chance of anyone getting hurt because of the lack of speed and momentum, but there is absolutely nothing you can do other than hold on.

As we debated whether to continue and try and pass the pileup and continue on, a pickup approached from below the accident and attempted to go around everything, fishtailed, and then began sliding back down the hill.  That is when I said the chimps ain't worth it.  The only silver lining, as we carefully u-turned our way back down the hill, we did see a few primates -- these baboons were enjoying the auto hockey action:

One is watching the accident, the other is anticipating the next one. I think we could hear them giggling...

Defeated, we head towards Fort Portal, in search of a particular famine hygiene product (FHP) that rhymes with this device used in mountain climbing:

Defined as a metal plate with spikes fixed to a boot for walking on ice or rock climbing.

This particular FHP is not very popular in Uganda, and hard to find even in Kampala.  We struck out five times. The first pharmacy we tried was along the scandal-ridden Fort Portal-Kamwenge road, the same road where we had just given up our dream of chimp trekking; a road which the Uganda National Road Authority (UNRA) tweeted was 64% complete on June 8, 2016:

Here's a view of that road, albeit a slightly different location, on June 19, after two days of rain:

Somewhat dry on the left, mud soup on the right.

The reason this particular road construction project is so scandalous is not only because it's basically all mud for well over a year and a great inconvenience to all who live along the road. It is also scandalous because in the course of the construction, the road workers conducted numerous acts of sexual exploitation and abuse (SEA) upon the communities along the road.  This was uncovered during an audit of the project by the World Bank, which had funded the project up until October 2015 once the SEA was exposed; the World Bank formally suspended the project in December 2015.  The government contractor for the project, the China Railway Seventh Group Corporation Ltd. (CRSG), was accused of not implementing various controls and management programs for their employees, which created an environment where the crimes were tolerated.  Numerous accounts of young girls being targeted on their way to school, and subsequently dropping out of school due to unplanned pregnancies have popped up in the Uganda media.  They've obviously turned a corner, because there were two helpful posters in the pharmacy stating "CRSG Says No to School Droppout" and "CRSG Says No to Early Pregnancy."  That should solve the problem.  According to Captain Obvious, another way of solving the problem would be to send rapists to jail...

Meanwhile, the quest for the FHP took us all the way into Fort Portal and four more pharmacies and grocery stores; and one stop at a pay toilet - my first time having to pay to go #1.  Access to FHPs is another major issue for girls in Uganda.  Girls who cannot afford FHP are at greater risk of dropping out of school, so during Laura's informal survey, it was disappointing to see that all FHPs were located behind the counter. In half of the encounters she had to interact with men to ask for the product, and in one case 8 pads cost 35000 UGX (a little more than $10), or over $1 per pad.  No wonder this is such a large barrier for young women's education in Uganda.  A few enterprising NGOs are trying to work on this problem, including AfriPads, for those of you interested in learning more.

Another silver lining to this side trip, the bag that the FHP was placed in, once Laura made a successful purchase, was made out of recycled paper, as is common in Uganda.  Here's what we found printed inside the bag:

Apparently someone in Fort Portal expected a lot of election-related arrests, but over-estimated.

We headed back to the lodge and enjoyed two delicious meals and relaxed and read by a fireplace, no less, as the rain continued to come down.  The food at Papaya Lake Lodge is some of the best in Uganda. Using local ingredients, we dined on amazing interpretations of Thai-fusion coconut soup and pizza:

We tucked off to bed to the sound of some sort of frogs lulling us to sleep, but woke to the screams of a hornbill violently trying to get into our room.  It all happened so fast we couldn't get a photo, but suffice it to say, this was a rather large bird about the size of a Canadian Goose, cawing and hammering at the bedroom's glass patio door - I ran at the door trying to scare him off, which basically left him unfazed.  Here's a photo of a hornbill:

Imagine having this as your alarm clock

And not to be outdone, after the hornbill incident we'd roused, dressed, and packed, we hiked up the hill to the lodge for our final (delicious) breakfast and found this:

Happy freakin' Father's Day to me.  I got to change a flat tire. Thankfully, we had a full spare and were able to travel at normal breakneck speeds back to Kampala and our girls.

Regardless of our difficulties, we've already had a couple more road adventures here in Uganda - these with the kids -  which will be reported soon. Yes, we might be gluttons for punishment. And yes, we do always travel with a ton of roadside emergency and medical equipment when we leave the city, so we can change your tire, dig you out of the mud, or even perform open-heart surgery if we see you stranded on the side of the road.

U-Gan-Da Drink That?

We have a lot of discussions about water in our house. Part of our yard is dominated by a 7000 gallon water tank in the yard that feeds a 2000 gallon tank situated on top of 25ft tower on the side of the house. Of course, this leads to many questions from the Gruesome Twosome, not limited to "when can I climb the tower?" T asks a lot of questions about the plumbing system in our house during bath time. "Mommy, can you tell me about how the city water connects to the pipes again?" S asks about the hot water heater: "Mommy, why hot water?" We are also answering a lot of questions about the water cycle in general when it rains. During the rainy season, the questions are incessant. And the girls' questions got us thinking about the water supply system in Uganda, although maybe these problems exist all over Sub-Saharan Africa in varying degrees.

The recently published 2014 Ugandan census showed that access to water is a problem for many Ugandans. It found that less than 20% of the country receives piped water. However, this might be inaccurate because the Ugandan national water authority recently revealed a number of commercial and residential landlords, including some very wealthy ones, are illegally hooking up to the water system. Not surprisingly, these villains have included Members of Parliament.

If only about 20% of Ugandans are receiving water through piped infrastructure, that means that more than 80% of Ugandans either buy their water from a truck or travel to a local tap or downspout and carry the water home themselves. Almost 33% of rural Ugandans have to travel more than 1km for their water. If you are a rural Ugandan but live near slightly larger town, you might be able to lug your jerry can to the side of the road and fill it up when the water truck drives by. If you are somewhat less fortunate, you might be able to pay someone to carry your jerry cans on the top of their matatu or the back of their boda to and from the tap or borehole. Many of these "water carriers" are children who earn but a few shillings with each carry. 

Your water can travel by matatu...

...by boda boda (pay no attention to the raindrops on the windshield - the first rain in many weeks)...

...picked up at the local watering hole...

...or travel by child along a busy highway, with vehicles - both large and small - traveling 120 Km/h. 

Keep in mind the vehicles are often poorly maintained and operated by bad drivers - even worse than Laura.

Compounding the access problem is the relatively unpredictable weather patterns caused by climate change. And the latest iteration of el Niño:

Despite the current unpredictability of rainfall, one can look to the local fauna for answers to when is it going to rain. These weaver birds were apparently a good indicator, frantically trying to complete their nests before the rains. We spotted them at Ziwa Rhino Sanctuary on March 28th and the rains started about four days later:

According to our guide at nearby Murchison Falls National Park, the male birds build several nests as the rainy season approaches, hoping to attract a female to occupy one of the nests. This is a novel approach - one I might recommend to my five nephews when it is time for them to get married. "Just put up a bunch of tents and when a female moves in, marry her!"

Uganda's water issues don't stop at reliable access or lack thereof.  The scarcity or excess of water can create its own problems. Thanks to el Niño our avocado tree failed to produce any fruits last season, although our guava trees, the skinny trees in the photos, provided multiple bumper crops.  El Niño-related storms caused mud slides on Mt. Elgon, caused farmers to delay planting crops, washed out bridges and roads, and devastated a village along Lake Albert. And even though October is already supposed to be the 2nd rainiest month of the year, Kampala received twice its normal amount of rain in October 2015. 

Here's a couple of photos of our backyard's unplanned lake late last November, normally a period of light rain:

The girls' stepping posts are our depth gauges: The watermark on the first post on the left was 7 inches.
The water mark on one of the posts to the right was 11 inches. Holy Lack-of-Proper-Drainage, Batman!

Some regions, such as the Kampala region and Lake Victoria, have had too much rainfall and it is likely only to get worse. A recent report by North Carolina State University shows that the lake's level will rise significantly over the next decade. A golf course being built on the shores of Lake Victoria near Kampala has had a number of new fairways regularly submerged by the rising levels. It makes me cry.

Meanwhile, Northeastern Uganda, neighbouring, and nearby African countries Ethiopia, Somalia and Zimbabwe are all facing extreme drought, leading to food insecurity, potential conflicts, and refugee crises in those countries. In Somalia, the Shabelle River ran dry for the first time in recorded history, apparently due in part to Ethiopia hoarding the water for themselves. Adding insult to injury for the Zimbabweans, Robert Mugabe threw himself a big birthday bash right in the middle of the drought, which I guess was only slightly more terrible than his last birthday, where he dined on baby elephant.

Back in Uganda, you see that the water is lifeblood of the people. As in many civilisations, the density of the population is centred around coastlines, either Lake Victoria, the Nile River, or one of the many large lakes fed by the Nile. The government is trying to control the water levels on these bodies of water through the use of dams, mostly for the reason of electricity generation. But at what cost? Owen Falls Dam was built in the 1950's, submerging Ripon Falls (originally considered to be the true source of the Nile River), raising the level of the river and displacing hundreds of villagers. A new dam constructed further downstream in 2011 submerged the Bujugali Falls which was considered by many locals to be sacred (and also at one time considered to be the source of the Nile - you can sense a pattern here). Now yet another dam is being built that will undoubtedly decrease the water flow going through Murchison Falls:

As you might be able to tell, this is one of the most powerful waterfalls in the world in terms of cubic feet per second. It is also where the African Queen was filmed in 1951. Ernest Hemingway survived 2 plane crashes very near to this point. And soon it will be no more, or at least, not quite the same.

That's a hint. Come visit. We've only had two brave souls so far and we sent them home in one piece (mostly).

Who U-Gan-Da Vote For?

The Iowa Caucuses are this evening, and like all good Iowans, we are totally obsessed with... the Ugandan national election.

Wha? As T would say, "You talkin' silly talk, Daddy!"  Yes, it is election time here in Uganda with the national election day fast approaching on February 18.  Most Americans probably have no idea that no less than 20 African countries are also having major presidential and/or parliamentary elections this year.  Burundi's elections may have caught your attention due to the pre- and post-election activities. Otherwise most of our dear readers are likely oblivious to the fact that Ugandans are about to vote for their president, members of Parliament, mayors, council members, etc., just as the Tanzanians recently did, the Central African Republic attempted to do, and as Kenyans, Congolese, Ghanaians, and many others soon will.  

No space is sacred when posting campaign materials. Not small bodega-type places...

Not street trees...

Not electricity poles...

Not guard posts (Look closely - there are six different posters)...

Not even our own home, but this is sparse when compared to our neighbors. The campaigners probably felt that Hurricane may come over the wall after them.

As Iowans, we grew up accustomed to the maelstrom of elections with the quadrennial caucuses. And owing to either the extreme attractiveness or political obsessions of our families, some family member or close friend becomes a minor celebrity every four years.  Eight years ago our friend Austin Ramzy, a reporter for the New York Times Sinosphere, emailed me that he awoke one morning in a Hong Kong hotel to video images of my mother doing her civic duty. And Laura's brother David occasionally shows up in stock election coverage footage on NHK (Japan's national network).

I won't get into the details of the politics of the presidential and parliamentary races in Uganda, which occurs every 5 years. There are main three presidential candidates - the current president, his former prime minister, and the opposition leader (who is also the President's former colleague-in-arms and his former personal physician). Then there are hundreds of Members of Parliament representing not only geographical locales, but cultural and occupational constituencies as well - Womens' MPs, Youth MPs, MPs representing the military, etc.  Additionally, Ugandans were recently treated to their first live presidential debate, though the President wasn't available due to a scheduling conflict.

Needless to say, we enjoy the spectacle of democracy in action and what a spectacle it is here.  Each party has its own colors, hand signs, and campaign posters are plastered literally everywhere (as shown above). Added to this are the boisterous caravans of supporters which consist of screaming groups riding trucks blaring music through large speakers while costumed people riding boda bodas blow on vuvuzelas. These parades block traffic at inopportune times, making already bad traffic hundreds of times worse. This video (if it works - I tried it on Firefox and it came through) shows but a small convoy on a relatively quiet road - if not, click here (I now figured out who to create a youtube channel):

And just like citizens in the U.S., I'm pretty sure Ugandans will be glad when it is all over, after having exercised their rights to vote.




P.S. Have no fear, updates of our non-election activities are forthcoming...

U-Gan-Da-rned Mosquitos

As I've written before, we were cautioned about two things when we moved here. The first danger was traffic, the much-justified target of last month's (and I'm sure future) rants. The second danger we were warned of was malaria, but I'm really not too concerned about any of us getting sick. We are all taking Malarone and malaria cases aren't that prevalent within the city. Typhoid is a far more real fear at the moment.  I also don't see us taking the girls too many places where they have a good chance of catching malaria. It is the vessel that carries malaria that has gotten under my saddle.

The mosquito - what I am now labeling the Scourge of Uganda - has reared it's very ugly head during our current dry season (I'm swatting them even as I sit typing this). According to my informal and, of course, highly scientific survey of friends and colleagues, we seem to have it the worst in our neighborhood, located adjacent to Kampala's Nakivubo Swamp. As such, I've had to add a new step to the girls' bedtime ritual - the hunt. I begin by whistling the tune from "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" and while Laura bathes the girls, I search every nook and cranny of our bedrooms and bathrooms for the offending varmints. Once located, I annihilate them with an electrified device resembling a small tennis racquet:

I never really cared for tennis, but I've developed a mean backhand with this

I'll kill as many as 20 during this period, knowing more lurk elsewhere. While apparently only a small percentage of the 4000 species are the ones that drink blood, it seems that the entire population of that small percentage is living within a few feet of our front and back doors. Notwithstanding my best efforts, I can't figure out how they are getting into our house and through our mosquito nets, but they are. We frequently wake up in the morning with bites, and Stella seems considered by them to be especially delectable.

Given its pure annoyance, I have great difficulty understanding the validity of the existence of the mosquito and anyone who takes any action that directly or indirectly preserves the mosquito should be committed.  No offense, Rachel Carson (who also argued for limited pesticide use when faced with the tremendous human toll of malaria). Some scientists believe that mosquitoes play an important part of the ecosystem, for example providing sustenance for Larry, George, and Henry - my geckos. But in talking with them, I think that they would just find another food. In fact, I've found that the rest of science agrees with us. A 2010 article in Nature, written by the brilliant researcher Janet Fang, confirms our hypothesis that the world would be no worse off without these flying bloodsuckers. Those organisms (such as my gecko friends) that consume mosquitoes would easily replace them in their diet. It's kind of like when I moved to Uganda and couldn't get Tasty Tacos anymore. I survived - it was difficult for a time, but I have persevered and found new life in vegetable samosas.

Throughout history, man has feared vampires and vampire bats, but no one has mounted a serious attack on the one organism that actually flies around with the expressed purpose of sucking our blood. If only tools like wooden stakes, holy water, or silver bullets and axes would suffice. As an aside, despite what Laura tells you, Abraham Lincoln:Vampire Hunter is not a historical documentary.

Because the mosquitoes are so bad right now, it has completely distracted me from the problems of traffic that returned with the new school semester. But I'll spare everyone from my rants for now and move on to the family updates:

Late January, February, and March have been busy. I traveled to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia and determined that A) everyone in Ethiopia knows of and loves Bob Marley and B) Ethiopian food might be a viable alternative to Tasty Tacos. Never a replacement, mind you, but an alternative.  I didn't have much free time, but I was able to take a day trip south of Addis to see the prehistoric archaeological site at Melka Kunture. This was disappointing in that, according to my guide, this was one of two major excavated prehistoric sites - the other being where the bones of Lucy were discovered - and it was not very well preserved. In fact, there was litter within the excavation shown to the public. There was no security, no protection from the elements, and worst of all, no gift shop.

This site, excavated during the 1960's and 1970's, is thought to be about 800,000 years old.

  

Archaeologists are able to determine the age by looking at surrounding evidence.
The indicated hippo tusk seems to have been eaten during the "Plastics Era."

My next stop on my journey through history was Adadi Mariam,  a rock-hewn church built in the 13th century, slightly more recent than the more famous rock-hewn churches in Lalibela. It is not nearly as elaborate as the churches in Lalibela and is believed to have not been completed before it fell out of use during the 1600's.  Due to warring tribes or Muslim conquest, it was then filled in and forgotten until the late 19th century, when Menelik II excavated and restored the structure.

The cross lights up like something from Vegas, but I don't think it is original to the structure.
The decorative flags are remnants of the previous week's festival celebrating the Ark of the Covenant

One of the four hallways surrounding the central chapel (which I wasn't allowed to see)

One of the most interesting features of the church was not the fact that hand tools were used to excavate this entire structure (while that in itself is amazing). Surrounding the perimeter of the church yard were about 25 or so small shed-type structures of varying quality, constructed of wood, tin, or stone.

No zoning laws here either?

After the proper tithe, we had a nice conversation with the church deacon who informed us that the structures were constructed on the sites of graves. Apparently, families built the structures over the final resting places of their relatives and donated them to the church for use as homeless shelters. This process could be a refutation of the late, great Al Czervik's argument in Caddyshack that "...country clubs and cemeteries are the biggest wastes of prime real estate."

The final site visit (before a delicious Ethiopian lunch in a rural town) was a UNESCO World Heritage site at Tiya, Ethiopia. Here lie about 40 carved rock stelae from a still unknown culture. Archaeologists have been unable to decipher the carvings of swords, plants, and circles, but they are assumed to have some afterlife significance as a number of graves were found both nearby and among the rocks.

As we returned to Addis, I took a few pictures of the amazing landscape. Everything is brown due to the dry season, but during the rainy season, everything is a lush green. I also saw some local livestock including donkeys (Tepper's new favorite animal), cows, and herd of camels being driven to the local slaughterhouse by local tribesmen. Mmmm. Camelburgers...

The cause of a rural traffic jam

Would be happy to hear from our readers if anyone knows the difference between
one-humped camels and two-humped camels.

I returned from Ethiopia just in time for the most hallowed week of the year - Tepper and Stella's birthday week. For those of you who don't know, their birthdays are two days apart. And no, that wasn't planned. But I am looking at doing a joint bat mitzvah in about 12 years.

Their birthday extravaganza was complete with our new backyard playground, face painting, and the ever popular bouncy castle. Tepper had a great time, as you can see from the photos. Stella, on the other hand, slept through almost the entire party. Due to her excitement for the day, she got up way to early that morning and just couldn't stay awake.

Wings courtesy of Funcle and Kelly. Thank you to Grandma Danger and Grampie for the ballerina doll and tutu.
And yes, she thinks she can fly. She called herself a fairy princess.

The most peaceful moment of the week. Toward the end of the week, Laura and I would have said this photo belongs on a Post Office wall next to the FBI's Most Wanted. Wardrobe of new owl and cupcake pajamas brought to you by Trixie.

The cake. You may notice some missing Oreo cookies. It wasn't me.
Blame the vulturous kids who were circling the cake, like sharks at feeding time.

Birthday Tiger!

Tired Tiger

February was finally Laura's turn to travel in Africa, having made a quick business trip to Nairobi, Kenya. She described Nairobi as a "great city," though I'm not so sure about a place where armed gangs are known to rob motorists stuck in traffic jams. At least that kind of thing doesn't happen in Uganda.

Then, a week later, she braved disease, robbery, and roadside vehicle breakdowns to climb Mt. Elgon, Uganda's cheaper, less-crowded version of Mt. Kilimanjaro. An extinct volcano, Mt. Elgon is Africa's 17th highest peak and has possibly the world's largest caldera. On the way up, her traveling companions developed blisters and altitude sickness. Despite the maladies, the group was able to summit.

I heard that Laura's group paid a local tribesman to run up the mountain and bring the sign down a few thousand meters.

On the way down, stopping at Sipi Falls, her group was accosted by a gang of machete-wielding youths demanding money (They got nothing. No one messes with Laura and lives to tell about it). And on the way back to Kampala, one of the two vehicles developed a crack in its coolant box, thus blowing the head gasket and leaving 6 people to cram into one car for the 6 hour ride back to Kampala. Laura had to share a seatbelt. This leads us to another lesson we've learned about Africa: Never buy a Land Rover that's more than 5 years old. You'll end up putting three times the money into it than the purchase price. What's nice about my Isuzu Wizard is that I'll only pay double.

Now that its March, things are going to be a bit more calm. We'll have a lot more time for things like art:

Where Tep-Picasso is supposed to paint: Her easel

Where Tep-Picasso is not supposed to paint or draw: the kitchen wall

relaxing in the pool:

Dora the Explorer Fan Club Pool Party

reading (with friends) on the lanai:

Tepper was actually mad here - she, Bonnie, and Hello Kitty wanted to read Laura's magazine about unicorns.

eating good food:

There's nothing like having a little eggs while still in your PJs.

acting goofy:

Tep-Potatohead

and swinging on the swing set.

Since I'm STILL waiting for my job to start, I plan to play in a few golf events now that the Uganda Golf Union has finally issued me a registered handicap. Much like the USGA system, the UGU used a very complex scientific and mathematical formulaic process. It cost me $15 and required me to play 9 holes with the local club pro. After carding 4 birdies and 2 double bogies, the pro told me, "You hit the ball like a 1 [handicap], have the mind of a 10 or a 12 [handicap], so I'll give you a 6 [handicap]." And so it shall be. Ugandan National championship, here I come.

That's about all for now. Stay tuned for my next rant, I mean insightful post, - mostly likely about a distant cousin of the mosquito - the boda.

Happy N'U-Gan-da Year

So we haven't written for a while and for that I apologize. We've probably been stuck in traffic. I'm being serious. We were warned about it before our arrival, but seeing it up close and personal is something else.  Traffic is absolutely the most difficult thing about living in Uganda. Imagine the worst American beltway without the threat of being pulled over by police, lane dividers, or speed limits. Then add 200% more poorly-maintained vehicles. Blend in a heaping spoonful of unpredictable and dangerous bodas and matatus. Pour in a dash of potholes large enough to swallow an elephant. Finally reduce any sense of moral decency or compassion for your fellow driver, pedestrian, or livestock. That is the recipe for the daily commute to the Embassy, a mere 7 km away. It's not as easy as "Rollin' in my 5.0 with my ragtop down so my hair can blow." (More on Vanilla Ice shortly...)

Uganda, like most of sub-Saharan Africa, has an urban planning problem. Most roads here, and I mean 99% of them, are not designed nor capable of handling the amount of cars, trucks, and boda bodas using them. If you follow any of the news about demographics, the story only gets worse for Africa in the coming years as the population is expected to grow exponentially. Many roads are extremely narrow, barely wide enough for two small cars to pass, and most roads are unpaved. As added threats, there are very few sidewalks, so drivers must be cognizant of the numerous pedestrians. Road-side stands crowd the road in many places, limiting maneuverability. And lastly, 3 ft deep sewage/ drainage trenches line the road. We have been fortunate so far, but have heard many stories of expats' cars falling into the trenches and having to be towed out. 

A brand new, 2ft-high speed bump 10 meters from a T-intersection (immediately behind us) where
no one could possibly have gained any speed going up the hill and after turning. Traffic in the opposite direction is required to stop just prior to the speed bump by one of the 10 traffic lights in the city.

Another victim of the notorious drainage ditches. Most roads, however, don't have
shoulders and the ditches line mark the edge of the road.

Kampala's geographic features also hinder traffic.  The city is known for its "Seven Hills," and the main roads are a series of choke points between each hill.  So while you can move around easily within each hill, once you venture out of that neighborhood, you're just at a stand-still. Additionally, the city's industrial area is positioned right in the middle of the city to promote the heavy industries' access to the railroad (which is grossly underutilized - a story for another time). This location is problematic because the large number of large container and tanker trucks on the narrow roads often have to make sharp turns - often times 20 point turns - to get to their destinations. When this happens, it can block traffic for kilometers. I've seen one stuck truck cause a backup which lasted nearly an hour. And of course, we live on the other side of the industrial area from the Embassy.

Spring Hill Road, a relatively major secondary level road running along the industrial area,
at evening rush hour in the rain. I must point out this is supposed to be a two-way street, but there is no room for traffic traveling in the opposite direction. I'd also like to thank the matatu to the right for reminding us to tithe.

Same road, basically the same location on a sunny Sunday morning.

Many other traffic snarls are caused by the lack of controlled intersections. There are only about 10 traffic lights in the city and sometimes they aren't obeyed, especially by bodas. All of this seems to be made worse by the presence of traffic police, who show up even when the lights are working perfectly, and decide to randomly supersede the lights, stopping for 15-30 minutes to let others go through. Several were recently arrested for taking bribes. Who bribes a traffic cop, you may ask? Well, you try spending 2 hours sitting at an intersection less than 2 km from your home and not think about who you can pay off to get out of the gridlock. And while you're sitting there, you too can listen to Vanilla Ice and/ or Whitney Houston on the only English-speaking radio station you can get on your car's old Japanese radio with frequencies that don't match those of the rest of the world (even Uganda). In fact, one song in particular was played so often a few weeks ago that Tepper turned to me at breakfast the other morning and said, "Ice, Ice, Baby." A chill went down my spine.

As we're only visitors to Uganda, we are lucky that we don't have to put up with this for our whole lives.  The traffic problem in Africa is really tremendous, and has a lasting impact on the African economies and well-being of African people.  WHO data states Africa has more traffic fatalities than anywhere else in the world (24.1 / 100,000, compared with 16.1 / 100,000 in the Americas - here's an interactive map on the issue), and is going to become a bigger killer than malaria, HIV/AIDS, and TB, all of which enjoy plenty of attention from international aid programs. I'm not sure whether anyone has measured the economic impact, but there is no denying the inefficiency of so many city residents sitting around in their cars, trying to travel between home, school, and work.

One thing about transportation in Uganda we are really enjoying is interpreting the messages painted on vehicles and seeing the creative ways folks beautify their vehicles.  The boda drivers tend to be patriotic in how they decorate their motorcycles with red, yellow and black tape (Ugandan flag colors), while the matatu drivers like supporting their favorite sports team.  Commercial drivers of all types also praise their various creators - here are two that we managed to catch on our phones, but this is only a small tip of the iceberg in terms of the many ways drivers want to give thanks to the Almighty:

Would love to hear from one of our readers if they can define Christed Bloodz.

This must be the shuttle to the synagogue. Except there is no synagogue in Kampala. Hmmm...

Is this driver directing everyone to apprehend something or is his name Captain Ure? You be the judge

Enough ranting about traffic for now, but I can assure you, it will likely happen again. 

Another holiday season has passed us by (probably while we were sitting in traffic), but we couldn't tell because there are no seasons. If it weren't for our calendars, this experience could be something akin to Groundhog Day, but with better weather. No snow for us here. In fact, I think I saw Puxsatawny Phil drinking a Nile Special beer down by Lake Victoria the other day, resting for his return to frigidly cold Pennsylvania next month.

So here's a brief recap of the last couple of months:

November:

I took a much-needed (imagine the sound of Laura choking right now) vacation to play golf in Durban, South Africa. I never thought I'd ever be playing golf alongside the Indian Ocean and yes, I left a few balls in the Indian Ocean. I then attended an off-road driving school in Kampala - necessary because most driving around here is off-road.

With this Hooters being located in one of the more upscale areas in Durban, who knew that it had such an international following? Yes, the buffalo wings are just as delicious on this side of the Equator.

 #5, Zimbali Golf Course, about 30km north of Durban. 240 yards downhill into a 40mph wind. I was happy to make bogey. That's the Indian Ocean in the background, the new home for a couple of my Titleists.

Since this is about as close as I'll ever get to Antarctica, I decided to attend the the penguin show at the
Southern Hemisphere's largest aquarium and marine park - uShaka Marine World. 

Laura was very busy at work as well as on the home front, decorating our house and painting rooms now that all of our belongings arrived - a full 3 months and one week after we got here. Fortunately, nothing was broken, though we had a few odds and ends missing. And when I say odd, I mean that the bags of snap pea crisps, a big jar of risotto, and a few other non-essential items didn't make it to Uganda. Whether they were pilfered, lost, or jumped ship in Hong Kong, we will never know.

In mid-November, we attended the Marine Corps Ball - the embassy's social event of the year. Held at a resort south of Kampala, it was the first night that Laura and I together had spent away from the girls - ever. Thank you to Nanny Hellen for allowing us (meaning Laura, because I never wake up for the crying baby) to get a good night's sleep.

This beautiful lady was nice enough to escort the lost penguin to the dance.

Tepper got her first real haircut prior to Laura getting her hair done for the Marine Ball:

After

Before

I know many liked her hair long, but it got to be problematic: washing it, trying to put it into "ponies," and Stella developed an affinity for pulling on it.
 
Thanksgiving was spent poolside at a friend's house, eating turkey and stuffing, drinking Moscow Mules and playing cornhole (a popular beanbag tossing game for those not in the know). I can't forget the delicious pumpkin cheesecake either. Again, I say that we are living a rough life. But it did take about 30 minutes to get to and from our friend's house 4 km away because of traffic, as it was a regular work day in Uganda. 
 
December: 

Tepper's second theatrical foray was the dramatic role as one of a cadre of glitzy foreigners attempting to woo a Ugandan woman in Kissyfur's reproduction of "Njabala," a Ugandan fable about a lazy woman trying to find a husband. No one has ever played part of a glitzy foreigner as well as this:

Glitzy tunic, glitzier pants, and the glitziest shoes (they light up when she walks)

Laura and Stella enjoying the show

Christmas was obviously not white and was spent at a friend's house, where Tepper littered the floor with cupcake crumbs and tried to make off with the new gifts of our hosts' children.

January:

New Years was our first true vacation here in Uganda and was spent on an island in Lake Victoria, Pineapple Bay. The trip began with a 50 minute boat ride across the lake - first boat ride for both kids, and if it were up to them, the last. Upon arrival to this tropical paradise, I was expecting this welcome committee:

De Boat! De Boat!

Alas, Mr. Roarke and Tattoo did not greet us with a drink. This was our welcome committee as we pulled up to the island's dock:

And at 9ft long, this was the smaller of the two in the bay.

A couple weeks before our visit, this croc's 13ft-long friend dragged a local sheep into the middle of the bay. The manager of the resort told us that one of the guests got a cell phone video of it. This one spent New Years' Eve swimming beneath the dock, which was barely a foot above the water. Needless to say, we did not go near the water for the 3 days we were there. This was fine as the pool was a perfect spot to relax and snack:

A time of peace for pieces of cheesy puffies. And yes, they were sharing.

Despite the water hazards, we give this place a 5 star approval, and not just because we were able to become friendly with the owners while spending New Years' Eve with them.  The island was beautiful, peaceful and served the best food we'd had in months - stateside or in Uganda.  There are over 400 species of birds on the island and we went on a hike to see how many we could identify. Naturally, we saw a lot of different birds, and couldn't identify any of them, but did see some nice views of the surrounding waters. Unfortunately, I couldn't get the video to load, so here is a panoramic photo:

The Girls:

The girls are busy growing too fast to keep up. Tepper is enjoying school and working on potty-training. Courtesy of Nanny Hellen, Stella is also working on potty-training and lately seems to have had more luck at it than Tepper. Her success will probably make Tepper jealous and cause some deep-seeded rift between the two, but as long as we can stop buying cases of diapers, I'll be happy. 

Stella is crawling well, is very talkative, and lights up whenever she sees Tepper. Tepper is developing into a pretty good big sister, sharing some of her toys with Stella and always asking where her sister is. She has memorized the movie Frozen and Stella sits and listens to Tepper sing all of the songs, like a love-struck teenager watching Justin Bieber. Stella, as any good younger sibling does, terrorizes Tepper by threatening to steal her toys or otherwise generally invade Tepper's space. Despite that, they love spending time together, no matter the locale:

Trapped like rats in a cage and they don't care a bit.

Lounging in the new pool

Tepper is also really enjoying her Playmobil sets she received for Hanukkah (I think it's called Han-U-Gan-da-Kah here). She has developed a knack for dioramas:

An aerial view of Tepper's re-creation of the farm at Jonestown

Her reenactment of the mob arresting Marie Antoinette during the French Revolution

Other than that, the geckos (too many to name) continue to work overtime to eradicate the growing number of mosquitoes and the palm fronds still fall (the last one almost hit me and Tepper). Thanks to Abdul the Gardener, our garden is growing at a rapid rate, with corn, basil, tomatoes, okra, carrots, mint, pineapple, strawberries, and tobacco nearly ready to be consumed. Ok, not the tobacco. That will be used to keep away the snakes.

Furaha ya Mwaka Mpya, or "Happy New Year" in Swahili, and I promise to write more often. That is, unless I get stuck in traffic again with the theme music to "The Bodyguard" my only company.