::::I've Left Copenhagen for Uganda::::

Looking at the Nile through a stained window of an aircraft

Along the border between Southern Sudan and Uganda the River Nile flowed silently this Tuesday morning.

It is one of these early mornings where I didn't sleep enough; I didn't eat properly; And where I fought my way through traffice to the airport in Entebbe before boarding a plane to Yei in Southern Sudan. Even in spite of all that - and the nauseous feeling the tiny aircraft creates, I will still say that the view is worth it.

Good-bye Arua and West Nile

My car has crossed the bridge over the River Albert Nile at Pakwach for the last time, at least with me inside of it. I have crossed this bridge many times within the past 26 months.

When I came here in June 2005 the bridge had a security check point with soldiers trying to delay you unnecessarily if not given a lift. Always a problem as we timed driving from Arua to the ferry at Paraa in Murchison Falls. 2½ hour would do it on a good day.

Working for an NGO you are not supposed to carry soldiers, an argument is that you become a target yourself. I don't know what would actually happen in real life, or if it's just a pacifist' excuse. The regular UDPF or SPLA soldier, dressed in gumboots and handling their weapon too casually for my style, never made me feel safer anyway.

Another thing which changed within these 26 months was the upheaval of the strict security guidelines on the Pakwach - Karuma Road due to LRA attacks. In October 2006 we were allowed to drive on the tarmac to Karuma and Kampala (I stil prefer driving through Murchison Falls though). Maybe northern Uganda has progressed in the terms of peace?! But, hey this is Africa, so standing at the bridge all you have to do is to let your eyes wander on the blue mountain skyline towards Congo and the beginning of the Lake Albert - there might be another conflict coming up there?!

Good-bye Koboko!

I have visited Koboko for probably the last time (definitely in a long time). I left it this morning for Arua, which turned out to be a hell of a trip. It rained all of last night and this morning. The rain soaked the road and had simply turned it into one big piece of soft soap!

I think Uganda has made me soft-hearted, too. I had to stop in the mud when I saw a pregnant woman and her husband wave from the ditch trying to get a lift for the hospital in Arua. 'Twins', he explained brieftly, as I tried to figure out how soon, and if the substance of this road would affect a woman in labour. They both got in and filled the car with the inevitable smell which hangs on people who live in a tukul. I'm afraid to admit that my gesture today probably made more change in that woman's life than most of the articles I have written so far.

An overdose Africa

Just had some relatively rough & intensive days with lots of driving on bad, bad roads. (If the CHOGM ever thinks about taking the Queen E the road less travelled as in up-country Uganda - I'd suggest they don't take the Kampala-Masindi Road untill someone makes it ready for CHOGM!).

In Murchison Falls the elephants and giraffes were out - beautiful morning sight. In West Nile I gave a lift to a woman with a child sick of malaria. Next, I gave a lift to an old woman, who had to go to TASO in Arua - due to 'the epedimic'.

In Arua I took my Danish passenger to the market for buying kitenge, on a photosafari down Adumi Street and ended up eating pork chops in Oasis Inn.

I unpacked and repacked my stuff, and this morning after putting my Danish visitor off at the airstrip, I drove to Koboko. Then to Yei in South Sudan.

A lot of Africa in little time, and even I have been feeling a little overwhelmed. If you find it difficult to sort out impressions and categorise them, Africa is no good. It is smacked straight in your face. However, I am feeling on the top at the moment, and admittedly, also high. I kind of like it this way.

Ha ha, I do look like as if I am trying to save Africa, don't I?!

I have followed the debate pushed by the Nigerian writer Iweala Uzodinma's article 'Stop Trying to Save Africa. It has been commented on various blogs and even the Danish Sunday paper Politiken translated it and put in on page 2.

The article and the writer pissed me off big time, and in between whatever I have to do in a country where I have been put off a plane with no luggage, I have been trying to formulate a comment.

The man is right. Who wants to be patronised by young American students, or others with a conscience which needs to be cleared? Who wants to be felt sorry for when what you really need is support which treats you as an equal? Who wants to adopt another way of living in return for funds? Who wants to see his tribe, nation and continent displayed as powerless and fucked-up (when you know you make the exception?)

I know I don't!

But come on! - Iweala's argumentation is threadbare and his arrogance makes him speak on behalf of all Africans. Categorising them all in one go, as well as he does with the whole group of ex-pats trying to save Africa. No doubt that a change of the Western way of saving Africa is necessary. No doubt that a lot of ex-pats, whatever reason they are in Africa for, can be a pain in the ass (I know some). But I also know a few Ugandans who would never put their feet in West Nile and Kampala youth who would never date a 'Northener' because of tradition and the history - and the image! The stereotypes and lack of information thrive within Uganda, Africa and among Africans. It is only the Africans who are well off who can afford rejecting support to Africa. They cannot speak for the rest.

I have given up the project for today. It makes me too angry. In stead I went through my photo albums and stumbled on the one photo above and realised; Ha ha, I do look like as if I am trying to save Africa, don't I?!

Here I am captured with Michael 'Dunno' Dume, a Sudanese Kuku, refugee from Kajo Keji. Michael got lost as a child from his family during the war in Sudan. A Swedish humanitarian worker found him, helped him and gave him the additional name 'Dunno', because that is what he apparently kept answering when asked for his name.  Michael was later united with his family in Uganda where I met him in August 2005 in Oliji Refugee Settlement where he is still working as a operational manager for Mungula Resource Centre.

Meeting Kony in the jungle - Did you ever think about how people get there?!

In Gulu Willy Akena writes about the peace process between LRA and the two governments of South Sudan and Uganda.

Last year Willy went to South Sudan on this truck (!!) to participate in the peace process. The caption for the photo goes like this:

The road to peace is not smooth, It's full of pot holes like the one in the picture: Some people had to travel on this Diana Truck to meet Kony in the Jungle as a confidence building measure in July 2006, including of course Rev.Willy Akena.

I think Willly has illustrated one of the most important things for Uganda on the spot with an image which is very familiar to people who have travelled in the area; - Suddenly it's damn difficult to make things move, you are stuck - but I bet this truck got out there - because people got together and pushed and pulled, and I know Willy finally made it to Garamba Forest.

Get the whole story and the timeline for the peace process here.

Everything you need to know to have fun in Kampala

Check out this blog - the Kampala bloggers have joined forces. Cool! Really interesting information about how to access wireless Internet in Kampala, cheap or free. Suppose that is what counts in a bloggers universe as fun.

Am thinking about how challengingly fun it could be to do the same up-country; Everything you need to know to have fun in upcountry Uganda ( - or how to avoid isolation, Kony, malaria!)

Reminds me that I have received quite a few emails (which I never got around to answer due to the malaria and subsequent, momental apatia) with questions regarding life in the upcountry sphere. I believe there is an unutilised potential here for promoting upcountry Uganda.

Leave a comment if interested one way or the other...

Unbelieveable road side scenarios

I have been on the road a lot recently. Today I drove Arua to Kampala (8 hours). Saturday we drove Yei-Juba ( 3 hours), Sunday we returned. Yesterday I drove from Yei in Southern Sudan to Arua. These days the road from Yei to Kaya is relatively good, and I did it in 2½ hours.

The hassling at the immigration at the Kaya border also went surprisingly easy (10 minutes), and then the final part was left: Kaya-Koboko-Arua (1½ hours). However, the Koboko-Arua road side scenario is unbelievable after heavy rains. As allways a challenge to navigate between the fallen trucks and the ones stuck in red mud. The people stranded. I gear down, I take deep breath, consider who I can call I get stuck or don't make it over the bridge. I give a lift to a desperate guy, whose World Food Programme truck is stuck. And once again I made it home safely. There is a reason why people wish you and thank you for a safe journey in Africa!

This year's male shoe fashion in Yei

has a remarkably strong resemblance to that one of West Nile in Uganda (and to when we tried to dress up like Robert Smith, The Cure's front singer, in the 1980ties in Europe).

If you can do the party you can also overcome the day after...

Another rule applying to this kind of world is that if you can do the party you can also overcome the day after - including any kind of hangover, pack your stuff, deal with the world's most annoying and inconsequent border patrol, drive on to the next destination, and get ready for work.

Sunday I drove us out of Kajo Keji into Moyo on the Ugandan side and then half way to Yumbe, then my colleague Peter took over to Koboko. Then we both drove from Koboko and then back into Southern Sudan reaching Yei just before dusk.

Today I had to facilitate a workshop which I actually thought was sceduled for tomorrow with the same group I found myself with this morning, having completely lost track of dates matching with what days. However, I think I sort of got away with it. At least, my colleague Peter expressed a thank for good facilitation at the end of it. Thinking twice he might as well have referred ironically to the my personal rule above. I might have to ask. I am not 25 any longer.