Uganda Journal
Arrival
4-6-05
Arrived at Entebbe about 11:15 pm local time, some 27 hours after departing Eugene, OR and flying through Seattle (2 hour layover), Amsterdam (3 hour layover) and Nairobi (2 hour layover). Fortunately, the KLM flight from Amsterdam was mostly empty, and I was able to snag a center row to lay down and sleep.
The stopover in Nairobi was not pleasant. I had read on-line descriptions of the horrid conditions at the terminal building, but found that, other than narrow, crowded hallways, it wasn't as filthy or run down as described. (I didn't brave the restrooms so I can't comment there.) No, my problem was the lack of air conditioning. When we arrived, around 8 pm, the weather outside seemed cool (mid-60s?) with light rain. Inside the terminal, the temperature must have been well into the 80s. No air moving, no doors or windows open for ventilation. Ghastly.
Sitting in the departure lounge, waiting to board my one hour flight to Entebbe, I watched a toddler who was just learning to walk. He tottered around—under his parents watchful, and obviously doting eyes—going from person to person; never stopping at anyone in particular. Until he spotted me. My strangeness stopped him dead in his tracks. My pale skin (Irish-German heritage) and gray beard was something he had never seen before. (Later in the trip, as we drove through the streets of Kampala, I would get similar stares from school children.)
I will admit that by the time I arrived in Entebbe, I was not terribly alert. I watched bag after bag go 'round the carousel, never seeing my own. It wasn't until all of the other passengers had claimed their bags, and I began to fear mine was lost (both Amsterdam's Schiphol Airport and Nairobi's Jomo Kenyatta International Airport have bad reputations for lost luggage), that I saw it sitting on the floor. It took me a moment to recognize it because I was thinking I had brought a different bag.
By the time I got my bag and went through passport control (very easy), it was close to midnight. Fortunately, a driver had been arranged to pick me up and take me to my lodging; a friendly, charming young man who greeted me with a big smile and a "soul brother handshake."
I must explain this. Most on-line sources, being as Ameri-centric as I am, attribute the "power," "unity," or "soul brother" handshake to the American civil rights movement of the 1960s. When my young driver greeted my by grasping my hand and, without letting go, slipped his hand around my thumb, then went back to the "traditional" grasp, I thought he was trying to be cool—emulating something he had seen in the movies or on tv and that he thought was what cool American's did. Sometimes, I am very disappointed in me. His greeting was a traditional greeting found throughout Africa, a greeting that had been adapted by American black activists trying to reclaim a culture stolen from them. He wasn't trying to impress me, he was simply greeting me with the warmth and friendliness that is typical of Ugandans.
The capital of Uganda during the early days of the British "protectorate," Entebbe is a resort town on the shore of Lake Victoria, a 30–40 minute drive south of Kampala. It is best known in the West as the place where Israeli commandos rescued a hijacked airliner in 1976. The old airport where the raid took place is no longer used. (I'm unable to find out when the new airport went into operation.)
The drive into Kampala was…interesting. Especially the flat tire.
We are staying at Mosa Court Apartments (really a hotel with kitchettes in the rooms). The bed is firm and there is air conditioning! I am happy. Complimentary breakfast includes the best cup of coffee I ever had. Rich, dark, flavorful with no trace of bitterness. (I've also had wonderful coffee in England and Ireland. In Ukraine, it's all instant.) The milk tastes…unusual. No bad, just different. Perhaps it's not cow's milk.
