<!– @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } –> The way I see it, Ugandans love showing off their publich speaking skills. Albeit, according to standards I’ve been taught, they aren’t very good at it. Rapidly rising and falling tones, over emphasis on nothing worth emphasizing, hand gestures that become blurry with speed, and most annoying of all, an all knowing tone that implies ‘do not argue with me.’ Among our professors and guest lecturer’s there were […]
<!– @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } –> Probably the one thing I would appreciate the most when I go home is the hot showers. There is no hot water at the grand hostel (for that matter anywhere except fancy hotels, even then, the hot water comes slowly and painfully), meaning rain or shine, we take bone chilling cold showers. The most pleasurable moments of the day are probably standing under the shower and relaxing, unfortunately, […]
<!– @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } –> I’m not a big fan of mosquito nets, although they were fun at first. My first night without one at the Grand Hostel ended in approximately 10 bites on each arm and 3 on my face, so I caved and bought a net. Covering you like a little tent, it’s the most annoying when you come home late and a bit drunk, and you still have to tuck […]
<!– @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } –> ‘The Grand Hostel – Simply the Best” How can you beat that kind of slogan? Except situated right next to a slum area and on a really bumpy dirt road, it really wasn’t grand or the best. It was, nevertheless, decent and livable. Although rumour has it that it is owned by one of our professor’s relative, which accounts for the “we surveyed around and found the best […]
<!– @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } –> I must admit, Ugandan food is not my favourite. I don’t know if it is because our hostel and faculty cook crappy food, or is this really what people eat everyday. According to our one Ugandan classmate, yes, this is what they usually eat, with even less variety. We even play a guessing game before meals, we almost always get all the dishes correct, because, of course, we […]
<!– @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } –> 203 “whats” in 1.5 hours. It must be incorporated into the gunnius book of records. You must be wondering, what in the world am I talking about? Well, try sitting through a lecture where the lecturer talks like this: “As the department of what? Finance, we have to be what? Careful when doing what? Procurement because of the what? Exchange rate from foreign currencies to the Ugandan what? […]
<!– @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } –> We were in the middle of a computer class on SPSS when suddenly the lights disappeared and siren-like warning bell started. Startled, we all stretched our necks and scanned the room like radars. My first thought: bomb! In those eery moments, I actually thought the building was going to blow up. (I have a video of this which I will upload once I get back home) Of course, […]
<!– @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } –> I never really experienced the rainy season in Kampala before I left. I suspect I will when I return for a few days at the end of November. Although for a few days, the skies just suddenly opened up and poured. And I really mean Pour, with a capital P. Without any notice, buckets can fall from the cloudy skies for half an hour and then just as […]
<!– @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } –> The other public transport we use are boda bodas, motorcycles which zoom around the city at all times making “bodabodabodaboda” sounds. Probably the most lethal form of transportation ever invented, especially in rush hour – you have not experienced Kampala without riding on a boda in rush hour, weaving in and out of cars with your legs just barely brushing the huge matatus. Prized for its flexibility and […]
<!– @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } –> Speeding around Kampala (and indeed the whole country, or maybe even the continent. At least I see them in Rwanda and Tanzania (called dala dalas) also) with little regard of traffic rules and human safety, are the mini-buses called matatus or taxis. Goes to most places in the city for a cheap price (less than 50 cents), they are officially public transport. The one we usually take back […]
