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

New Country

I have moved out of Uganda.

Hence, I will also conclude this blog, and start anew. This blog will not be up-dated anymore. When I am properly settled in my new place a new blog will be up and running. Thanks for reading along out there - and for all the good comments, e-mails, questions and compliments. Some of those have meant everything to me!!

PLEASE DO contact me for more information about my new blog at: pernille at fastmail dot fm - so I can send you a notice!

Pernille

Mihingo Lodge

I spent the weekend on Mihingo Lodge at Lake Mburo. The photos on the website do not lie, the place is fabulous.

The food fantastic, the view breathtaking, the Ugandan savannah scattered below. And I was in good company, too, which turned Friday evening into something I doubt any of us will forget soon.

Saturday morning I got too much sun watching the zebras at the waterhole below the swimmingpool. Check their prices. We tried to negotiate an MS Uganda price, and they promised to consider a discount if they get more red cars.

Safari

- I am off on a safari with six friends and one child in a few hours. We are heading south-west to Lake Mburo, where we are going to stay at Mihingo Lodge. Check it out here. I am in particular looking forward to seeing zebras - supposedly the only spot in Uganda where that is possible.

Sunday and Monday I go to Fort Portal to conduct a training session on blogging for the Rwenzori Information Centre Network. That is a bit outside my usual geographical work area, but the guys have persistently asked for it - am now I am curious in getting some experience with how you can use blogs to enhance information and communication in the Rwenzori.

Besides, I must admit that I quite like it when people ask me to do something for them, in stead of me enforcing my ideas on people with blank stares. - A general development dilemma, I think.

When my vocabulary runs dry...

It happens that I run out of efficient and appropiate English vocabulary. In those cases I sometimes find myself using the few odd Serbian words which have stuck with me.

Serbian is spoken with exquisit intonation and pressure, making it absolutely excellent for exclamations. It even goes well along with big expressive arm gestures. Danish is too flat and doesn't serve any higher purpose in these cases.

Like yesterday at the improvised road pull-in at Kafu River, almost halfway between Arua and Kampala. What do you say when a dozen of enthusiastic street vendors try to convince you to buy their roasted goat meat on a stick, their coca-colas, their mineral water and their fried cassava - by pushing the items inside of the car?!

'Ej, ej, ej, polako! or 'Dozda!' Maybe I could also use the Juba Arabic and say; 'Khalas!'?!

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!

Juba - an African metropolis at the end of a murram road

I know it doesn't pay Juba justice to post only one photo (but I had the feeling that the average SPLA soldier would not be happy with looking into my camera lense - and as they seem to be all over, I limited my need to take photos).

At least  this image illustrates perfectly well how I have spent the most of the weekend - as a passenger. From Yei to Juba, and back to Yei. On courtesy of Peter from the Danish Refugee Council in Yei (who btw is the ultimative guide to Juba).

I have to go back. Juba is way too exciting to only give one day. An African metropolitan in absolutely nowhere. At the end of a murram road. Scattered around a mountain along the River Nile. With the greatest mix of people and languages. From super expensive wazungu lodges to massive pot holes and garbage piles. Lazy flies, dust, rain and sun.

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.

Party African Stylie

Knowing that when (or if) I once have to settle somewhere out of Africa there is one thing I will miss deep down in my heart. That will be the informal invitations for functions in nowhere - driving long distances, meeting with good people and having a party in far out places.

This weekend took me to Moyo and the day after to Kajo Keji in Southern Sudan, where the Danish Refugee Council had invited for farewell parties for Beatriz in Moyo and Erik in Kajo Keji.

How often do you go to a party where you warm up, gladly driving 150 km on murram road, listening to loud music, stepping out your car, hardly noticing the fact that your hair is all dusty, your skin greasy, and your clothes stained. Make-up melted (if applied), all there is left of the perfume you actually hopefully did apply when you left your previous destination is a faint scent mixed with your own strong body odour. And the strangest part of it all - somehow you have never felt this glamourous!

'Cause who cares?! The music is loud, nerve-wrecking, monotomous bantu style! The dancefloor is the red African soil, the roof is the African sky which this weekend was lightened by the moon and stars. To the left there is a group of South African deminers with heavy torsos sharing interesting stories from whenever they did Angola, Mocambique - or the South African police force (sort of outrules the stories of a Danish development worker). Over many beers (puts the Danish Development worker back in the game). To the right a man is wearing a fur coat (could have been trendy in London), an SPLM commander is trying out incredible movements (while balancing his plate of food), a Sudanese woman wearing a cowboy hat and an SPLA T-shirt is giving women power a boost, while a couple of missionaries are looking for the moment when they can leave unnoticed.

Man, I just love this kind of stuff.

Just around the corner

The interesting thing about northern Uganda is that you never know what's around the next corner (work-wise as well as on the road).

Lately I have seen too many of these trucks overturned like on the photo.

Lately I have also seen too many crashes between busses, salon cars and matatus. Cracked and crystalised front screens, sometimes with people still trapped inside, stuck behind the wheel in a lethal position. Sometimes stained with blood. Sometimes a dead passenger wrapped in plastic lying waiting at the road side for his last destination.

The worst thing I watched lately was a salon car overturned on a marram road, where I saw the upper part of a 2-year old crawling out. It only took few seconds, but I held my breath untill I was sure that the child was in one piece.  I consider myself not the sensitive type, but my body reacts strongly when I see things like this.

I fear the busses (Gaagaa, Nile Coach, Gateway...) not driving, but flying from the district towns up country to Kampala on an hourly basis. When meeting them on the highway I lower the speed to a minimum to let them pass. It feels like being overtaken by a spaceship, while you try not to loose direction in the heavy slipstream. Yoy ask yourself how it can be allowed?! The Mundu in Arua has a good piece on why the busses are the typical cause of accidents and why it carries on - here.

Why not visit Uganda?!

I get a lot of emails from people who are interested in Uganda. Apart from all the many who ask very specific questions as from how to get in contact with a hotel in Arua, if there is Internet, to the price of vitenge - a lot also ask wether it is safe to travel in Uganda.

Not an easy thing to answer, and I'd rather moderate my answer in the light of today's riots. However, do always put your doubt into perspective. Never take things literally. You can easily be robbed back home in the pedestrian street in central Copenhagen. You most likely risk more driving round Jo'burg or Nairobi than northern Uganda.

Uganda is in general one of the most easy countries I have ever travelled, people are friendly and the nature is breathtaking. But Uganda still remains a secret to the many, who go to Kenya or Tanzania instead. Uganda takes a bit more work to sort out. People still fear to visit Uganda due to its bad reputation of conflict, dictators and child soldiers. Even many Ugandans underestimate their own country's potential, which is a shame.

I just went through photos from my trip over Easter, and I am still amazed with the beauty of this country. Find more here.