27.01.10 More Kampala

So, Let me begin with the bus trip from Nairobi to Kampala. I met a
young boy (he looked about 17, I felt very old) wearing a scraggly
t-shirt that hung off him making him look very gap-yeary. His name was
Joe and he'd just come from Mombasa overnight (must have been a bus
journey as that would have been bizarrely early for the train) and
hadn't actually spent any time in Nairobi, and then there were a dutch
couple who had also just arrived (from dutchy-land) and come straight to
catch the bus t o Uganda. I think her name was Fleur, but his I can't
remember. They leaped off the bus just after we passed the Nile (ah the
Nile :) looking very excited at their spontaneity. I made some wibbly
wobbly notes on the coach as we went along. I was on the Akamba bus, for
all those interested for future use. 2000 Kenyan shillings and it only
took 13 and a half hours...... *yawn*
About half an hour after we had left we were stopped by the police. I
think the driver was supposed to have stopped sooner, because the big
man policeman came and stood alongside the drivers window, a couple of
meters away so he could see him (it was a proper coach hight bus) and
pointed at him while shouting a stream of very angry kiswahili at him.
Eventually another police woman arrived, looking oddly familiar (I might
have seen them on the way back from Pokot a couple of days earlier, it
was the same route) and then the akamba guys who were on the coach got
off, as did the driver, and they were all having a rather heated
conversation, although the one akamba guy was laughing quite a lot. Then
at some stage through the shouting and arm waving the angry policeman
grabbed the driver by his belt (he had his arms in the air for some
reason, so his belt was exposed) and dragged him off with the others
following once they realised (and stopped laughing) to somewhere out of
sight. So we were sat there for a while and then the bus started and the
other akamba guys came back up the inside of the bus laughing their
heads off - they must have all got on at the passenger entrance - and we
were back underway. So, at some stage in about the first hour I got
bored and realised that my travel sickness tabs were working quite well,
so I got my book out, which I managed to finish before we got to the
border even though I was only halfway through. Good book. Saving Grace
it was called. Set in Ireland. Made me cry a bit though, even on the bus
(I was very sneakily trying to wipe the tears from my face but I think
the bloke next to me still thought I was nuts). It was very funny, but
also very sad in places, which I think make the sad bits even sadder.
She was trying to get over her brother's death y'see, but she didn't
really know it, and she was also in a relationship with a guy who was a
bit of an arse, and yeah, very good book. Anyway, once I'd finished I
was back to watching the sights as we drove through Kenya. It was very
green. And there was a really strange part which looked like the hills
had been made by someone piling up loads of large boulders which stood
with grass growing up around them at odd angles all over the place.
There were also lots of people by the sides of the road breaking up
rocks into mounds of glittering grey gravel.
I also listened to my iPod. I had it on shuffle and listened to some
great stuff on the way, including some common rotation which I hadn't
heard for ages, and listening to Jordan's sax solo while watching Kenya
went past was pretty amazing. I could have listened to him all day, just
amazing. Something also came on that I thought, ooh, what is this, I
don't know what it is yet but I know I really like it, and then it
turned out to be Revolution by Marconis Voodoo which I realised once
they started playing. Aw, I wish they'd recorded more stuff, they could
have done great things *puts on melodramatic voice*.
Anyway, we finally stopped at the border at about 3.30 I guess. We had
to queue up with leaving cards and get our passports stamped, and then
walk across a small patch of ground, through another gate at the other
side, and queue up again on the Ugandan side. I gave the woman my
passport and then he demanded $50 and disappeared with them both. When
she eventually came back (by which time I'd instructed Joe and the
dutchies that they just needed to queue up and give them money and they
let you in) I had a brand and possibly spanking new Ugandan Visa in my
passport. So now I have about 5 pages taken up by multiple Ugandan and
Kenyan visas. Thankfully I won't have to have a new one when I go back
into Kenya as my single entry one will still be valid and they don't
count going to Uganda leaving properly. Which is ace. Not that I'd have
to pay for it again, but it was bad enough trying to convince the guy
last time that I really was just a tourist, I don't want to try it again.

We finally left the border at about 4pm, while I craved ready salted
hula hoops. Then we stopped after a few meters. I think we'd lost
someone. So I ate my packet of salt and vinegar lays, which tasted
vaguely stale and were only a month away from their munch by date. Just
as we started to hear the call for prayer (presumably from a nearby
mosque) another couple of people got on and we left. Again. This time at
4.15pm. Then we were on the road non-stop apart from letting people off
and on until Kampala. As we came in I saw big signs advertising flights
to Juba for $150. We did meet a lot of Ugandans working there.

Anyway, so I arrived in Kampala, Joe was heading off to the Red Chilli
Hideaway (which has a pool, I almost wish I'd gone there now, must find
one near here) and I found a taxi to bring me here. So I arrived at
Kampala Backpackers hostel at about 9pm and checked in. The reception is
also the bar (I'm sat next to it at the moment) and there is music which
started out quite quiet earlier, but is now reasonably loud. So she
showed me to my room, which is, umm, quite small. It looks a bit like a
cell, no windows and the bit where it connects to the room has an open
barred space at the top. Nice. Just space for a bed, a plastic chair and
a small coffee table about a foot square. I just about unpacked enough
to get cleaned up and go to bed and then collapsed under the (slightly
smelly and patched up with duct tape) mosquito net. I didn't have the
greatest night's sleep, I might try the ear plugs tonight. As well as
the eye mask, or I could just see if I can turn the light off in the
adjoining room. Hmm, how thrilling is my train of thought!?

So I awoke before my alarm this morning. And eventually decided to get
up when I heard other people moving around. I had a cold shower, whoever
claimed there was hot water was cruelly stretching the truth. I think
there might have been hot in the one next to me though. But apparently
there is in the showers around the other side of the building. I would
have to take clothes with me there though, no running back to my room in
a towel if I have to come all the way through the bar! Lol. Then I had
coffee, and mooched around checking the place out. Then I saw someone
order tea and toast, so I found out that toast was also only 1000
Ugandan shillings (UGsh from now on! The sign for shillings is actually
a slash and = or possible -, but my slash key doesn't work any more so
I'll just write UGsh, oh, and it's approx 3000Ugsh to the pound - my
pound sign seems to have been replaced with a # which is most annoying)
and ordered some of that. It was quiet nice, I had it with jam so I
can't be sure, but I think it was sweet bread again. Fab. So that will
be my breakfast from now on.

Then after fuffing, going online, having a gander at the uganda guide,
and brushing my teeth while trying to explain to a pretty african girl
in a towel what my listerine was so she could translate it to the lady
who was replacing the toilet rolls, I set off for the museum. This
required a 'taxi' ride into town (these taxis are actually the same as
kenyan matatus, so a minibus which is falling apart that they cram full
of people, only in Kenya they have route numbers, and where they go is
written on the matatu, even if sometimes they decide not to - the other
day James got on a 48 to get to Kileleshwa which instead of turning off
went all the way up some other route so he actually ended up near Othaya
road instead - but the Ugandan ones are called taxis, or shared taxis,
and they have nothing on them to indicate where they are going, you just
have to stop them and ask, and hope) followed by a walk through one of
the most crowded streets I've ever seen past some shops which were
spilling out onto the pavement, and matatus that were parked spilling up
onto the pavement, and 'ooh, that's a pretty skirt' until I got to a bit
where I decided to cross the road and ask, and got pointed, and so
followed a line of stationary matatus until I found the beginning, which
was (I believe) the 'Old Taxi Park' and after some asking around I found
one to take me to the Musuem. I was the last person on so we left
straight away, and the tout stopped us in the right place and pointed me
in the right direction. Lovely. By this time though it was getting on
for 10am. So I walked past the familiar craft shops and thoughful
statues and went round to the entrance where I was told that Jackie was
out. Damn. So anyway, i had a wander round until she arrived. Much
better to look around when you haven't just been on an overnight flight.
Then we chatted, she told me what was happening with the stores, took me
down to see it etc. The old store room is next to another room which is
currently used by a carpenter, who was being asked to move by tomorrow
so we can get started. Hmmm. The room is full of tables and wooden
things all over the place at the moment. Not sure why a museum needs an
on-site carpenter, but hey ho. Just outside the entrance to the store
room is a big pile of boxes, and a smaller pile of black bags, which are
all splitting open spewing their pottery contents all over the place.
Very sad sight. And apparently that is the stuff without records.
Amazingly, all the stuff IN the room has records. Apparently. Shelves
and shelves and piles and piles of boxes of all shapes and sizes, in no
particular order. So then we went back up to Jackie's office where she
showed me the records, which consist of one large book where everything
that was left in the museum from about 1959 until 1974 has been entered
in there, and then it stops. There is also a paper folder with pages and
typed pages of columns of numbers preceded by A (I think these are the
accession numbers) with occasional headings like 'Ntusi'. Although
nothing seems to be in any particular order. And then there is the index
card catalogue. Which seems to just be a load of index cards, some with
things written on them which could be of use, some with nothing but
'handaxe' written on them. And that is it. Oh, unless you could the
loose papers in the back of the accession record which consists of
letters and random stuff, including a letter from Justin Willis (former
director of the biea) about an unspecified artefact that had been found,
and one from Andrew Reid asking permission to remove some stuff from the
country for analysis. All veeery interesting. Or should I say
terrifying. From this and the occasional scribble on the boxes
downstairs I have to put together a comprehensive catalogue. Eeek!

Anyway, bla bla bla. Went and met with Rose (who everyone refers to as
'Madam') and then was promised lunch after Jackie had just written one
email sending something to someone. But the attachment wouldn't attach,
so I was waiting for at least half an hour before we left. We went over
the road to have a buffet lunch which consisted of the typical Ugandan
fare. I even got some nut sauce in there. Then we came back over to the
museum and Jackie took me in to the museum restaurant where museum staff
have their food subsidised, and she introduced me to a couple of people
there so that I can also get cheap lunch (a plate from the buffet for
3000 UGsh) one of whom is called Maureen, must remember for tomorrow.
Then I headed off into town as there was nothing for me to do until the
carpenter has vacated the space. I managed to get the taxi into town,
although I'm still not certain where it dropped me off. But I found
myself on Kampala road, so had a wander around trying to familiarise
myself with where things are. I now know where the market is and I even
found the shoprite supermarket and bought some juices and stuff, I was
very thirsty at the time and the cold juices were so good. Then I found
the new Taxi Park, and asked around until someone pointed me at the one
that was gonna go past the backpackers hostel when it finally left. But
there was no tout around for it, so I just got on. Silly. I won't make
that mistake again. The guy, despite me telling him I was going to
Backpackers and him nodding, didn't stop when I should have got off. I
was looking out for it, and we didn't go past it, but I realised later
that it had turned off just before it, so I ended up on the fecking
thing all the way into nowhere, and then back out again. On the way back
out it picked up a new load of passengers, one of which insisted on
talking to me. He was a middle aged guy who claimed he went to Oxford to
study engineering or something and who asked if he could pay my dowry,
and if I would come and live with him in Kampala. Then when I got off he
was asking when he was going to see me again, etc. I'm kind of getting
used to this kind of attention over here, and I don't mean that in a
vain 'everyone loves me' kinda way, because it's all a game for them.
It's just like a big joke, and I just go along with it now and laugh
along with them, because it saves getting frustrated. However, nothing
will ever compare to my first "I love you more than chicken" from the
guy on the way to Baringo. There has never been a compliment like it! :)
Lol.

So anyway, I have basically spent the last 5 hours sat here, at this
table in the bar of the hostel, because there are no plug sockets in any
of the rooms, so to go on my laptop I have to plug in to one of the two
tables here. The guy on the other table has been here equally as long as
me, possibly even longer. I'm curious as to what he is doing. I've been
trying (unsuccessfully) to download and install open office on this
laptop. For some reason the download didn't work or something, and my
airtime is limited as I have to pay for it, so I guess I will just have
to make my list in notepad and transfer it into an excel sheet when I
get back to Nairobi. I have an exercise book with me so I will just use
that and type up in the evenings or something. At least it gives me
something to do other than ramble away on here. Although I do still have
most of those emails left to write. I'll get round to them slowly maybe.
I am planning to walk to the museum tomorrow. I have poured over the map
and written down detailed destructions. I reckon it's about 5kms. At
least. hmmmm. Well if it's too far then I can catch taxis back here in
the afternoon, but at least I will know then, and it'll give me some
exercise, and i'll be getting to know kampala a bit better as it's
always hard when you're trying to peer out of a matatu window.

Right, well I suppose I should send this and then go and attend to the
mound of clothes and products that is all over my bed. I didn't really
feel like unpacking neatly this morning. I think I will try and put
things neatly on the chair or something. That room is so cell like I
don't think i'll be spending much time in there, but when I don't need
to be plugged in there are comfy sofas, well, maybe only one that
actually looks comfy, where I can sit and read, or whatever. One thing I
might try and do is organise all of my photos into folders that can just
be uploaded onto tinternet with a few easy clicks. But that might have
to be done on another computer as this one won't instal the Jalbum
program James recommended because of my Java issues. Damn Java. But
hopefully I'll get them uploaded before I head back home and things get
really hectic anyway!!!

Right, Night folks. Sorry this has been another really long one! And I
haven't even really done anything yet!!!
xx