Celebrations in Kampala!
on Melissa Hipkins (Rwanda), 09/Feb/2011 13:09, 34 days ago
The big event since Christmas has been the wedding of Melanie and Moses in Uganda. They would have preferred the ceremony to have been performed in Kigali but because Moses is Ugandan and therefore neither future spouse a citizen of Rwanda the authorities could not sanction a marriage here.The limited time we had between our arrival from Zanzibar and the departure by bus to Kampala made getting ready pretty tight The bus to Kampala-we could have flown but the bus fare is only $15 and everyone else was going that way. From Kigali the trip should take about 9 hours. Melanie and Moses had done it at the beginning of December in order that Melanie should meet all the in-laws, cousins and sundry relations. They had learnt from their trip that it seemed better to make the outward journey in the evening and to return during the day.There was a quite a party of us going, in addition to Melanie and her mum, Julie, there was us and Sarah, Melanie’s bridesmaid and witness. Moses was already in Kampala and on call to meet us when the bus finally hit town. He would ferry us from Kampala bus station, not somewhere to dally at night, to our hotel. The bus was scheduled to leave at 18.00 from an equally insalubrious area of Kigali. It’s always fun to speculate on who from the many people hanging around the area will accompany us on the journey. The mounds of baggage under their collective protection gave an idea of the numbers, but there seemed far too many. The bus has a route from Bujumbura in Burundi through Kigali and then on to Nairobi via Kampala. From our experience of getting on buses with half a load of passengers already ensconced, and the scrum of embarking passengers hoping for double seats, we needed to be slippy in climbing aboard when it showed.18.00 came and went, it got darker and the road became ever more choked with casual parking and congested with double trailered rigs heading for a lorry park. We comforted ourselves in that the Kampala coach, not just a description but the name of the company, had a distinctive livery and unmistakeable profile. After¾ of an hour’s wait, it turned in off the main road and nudged between the parked cars. I was in charge of luggage stowage and therefore not obliged to bag a good seat. During the booking process we had all submitted the details from our passports so those boarding could be checked off the list as they got on. However, as expected, chaos reigned made worse by increased security after a number of terrorist incidents connected with the forthcoming Ugandan elections.In addition to a painfully slow admission process, all the luggage had to be scrutinised before it could be packed away under the passenger accommodation. I, and many others, were thus occupied with making sure things did not get spilled or damaged during inspection. How we should have managed if it had been raining I don’t know. Actually we need not have bothered and they equally didn’t seem motivated to do a good job. There was no means of knowing whether a bag had been looked at and the riffle through the contents was cursory in the extreme. In the mean time, the process of admitting passengers had begun andMelissa led the pack as she was up those stairs like a long dog to secure some double seats near the front. She was pleasantly surprised to find the bus had not come from Bujumbura but that it was empty and therefore enough seating for all.When all were aboard, the bus backed out onto the main road manoeuvring around the cars and trucks and at the same time reversing over some freshly laid cement on the neighbouring garage forecourt. After having laboriously gained the road and turned against the traffic in the direction of Kampala the bus lumbered all of 20 metres onto this forecourt to stop and inspect its tyres. The verdict was the need to change one of them before proceeding. Can’t complain really. After having seen the state of most Rwandan bus tyres, I’m glad they noticed the need for this one, especially in the dark.So, by 20.30 we began. The seating on the coach had been designed for long routes; it was well spaced to allow for the backs to recline and with supporting headrests. However, in the vertical position, these headrests came to the level of my shoulder blades. Only when really slumped down did my shoulders drop into place beneath them. Having said that, it was dark with no view so no need to sit up and in the reclined position eminently comfortable.The border between Rwanda and Uganda is about 2½ hours out of Kigali and there we had to stop for immigration and to cross the border by foot to wait at the other side for the bus to reappear. The queues of traffic on the Rwandan side were really quite impressive. Everything was at a standstill with drivers mostly with their vehicles. It was only the coach passengers that seemed unable to remain patient and clogged the lines for passport control and emigration cards. The trudge between the two border posts took about 10 minutes and in that time we could use the atrocious loos to relieve bladders and outside be relieved of Rwandan franks for Ugandan shillings by some friendly touts. In actual fact, their rate of exchange compared very favourably with that of the Kampala banks, and their opening times were a damn sight more convenient. It was a comparative breeze to go through the Ugandan red tape and then wait for the bus. We had been promised that there would be food to be had at the border, but for what ever reason, there was none of the hot variety. The Ugandan version of fast food is a “rolex”, so I was a bit mystified when told there would be Rolexes for sale. The rolex consists of a chapatti with an omelette inside; rolled with eggs I suppose. At one of the pull-ins where we stopped in Uganda I had a vegetarian rolex, not the same thing at all.I’m glad it was a clear if rather cool night as we continued to wait for the bus to reappear. The general lack of any vehicles passing the controls cast a gloom on the company. It was a further 2 hours before we could resume our seats and set forth into Uganda. A more thorough search of the coach in response to those attacks in Kampala was offered as a reason.The stop for the loo proved fortuitous after a strong gender bias became apparent at the stops the bus did make after the border. It seems that the ladies’ loos are firmly locked during the night while the men’s operate as normal. But for the availability of the toilets at the border, the only option is to crouch in the dark behind corrugated iron fences in the back of the garages. I’m told the only clue to the precise safe area to perform wasfrom the glow of mobile phones in lieu of torches.Ventilation on the bus, always a thorny problem; usually it’s not enough but in this case as the air cooled overnight we conceded that our windows should be closed by about 2.00 am. We were surprised to notice the curtains on the windows fluttering more and more towards dawn. Also it appeared that the driver needed one of his reliefs to assist him behindthe wheel. It was only when the light improved that we could see his duty was to use a broom to prop up the windscreen; it had chosen this occasion to slip its moorings and fall in towards the driver. It had already sustained enough cracks to thoroughly test the strength of its laminations and thisand the speed bumps probably brought on its collapse.We arrived in Kampala at about 9.00 am, about 6 hours late. Moses had been phoning on the hour to try and get an estimate of our progress but it’s difficult to be exact when you can’t see the countryside and you don’t know landmarks. Kampala’s look is entirely different from Kigali. Where we are used to orderly traffic and pretty clean streets, Kampala comes across as chaotic; many more private cars all with the object of jumping queues and lights, the pavements choked with stalls sprawling over to the gutter, and not just litter but the dumping of bin contents and broken black bags on every piece of unoccupied land.The hotel that had been chosen for us was a couple of miles out of town; modern and off the road-a haven where we could catch up on sleep. The rest of the day was free and we took advantage to explore and shop. Sarah had hoped to get some money out but cash machines failed to disgorge and she spent 4 hours waiting in a branch of her bank to use the instant cash service. She was lucky; they normally need 24 hour notice for this.The next day was the reason we came; the wedding ceremony in the morning and the reception later on at a hotel. Because a weekday was the only day available before Melanie had to resume work, Moses’ side of the family could not be present in force at the simple but moving civil ceremony.It was only later that the Ugandan side could gather at the hotel for the reception. We had got there at the advertised time so we needed to wait in a discrete location for them to finish arriving. Once the company was complete, Melanie and Moses could make the big entrance and allow celebrations to begin. After a fairly low key beginning with congratulations, introductions to all the tables, speeches and the cutting of the cake all overseen by an MC, we got down to the food and the beer. All the Rwandan weddings we have attended so far have been pretty po-faced, only pop and no food so this was a welcome break.The food was just as in Rwanda i.e. a melange-but a good mix of vegetables salad and meat. All had to be piled on the one plate and its amazing the teetering sculptures created by those determined to get someone else’s moneysworth. The beer disappeared equally quickly and then the dancing began. It’s very difficult to do justice to the dresses worn by all the Ugandan married women there; you have to see the photos to appreciate the magnificence of the shiny material and the singularity of the design. All seemed to have been to the same tailor, a uniform effect quite staggering to the untrained eye. Melissa took full advantage to photograph all prepared to smile, and surprisingly it’s quite difficult to persuade them to break the passport glare at the camera. The whole party experience surpassed allour expectations and we all had a really good time. It’s a pity that any christenings are unlikely to take place in Uganda, or at least not while we are close at hand.It all finished relatively early and we got away to a deserved rest at the hotel. The trip back to Kigali the next day was on time and relatively unremarkable. There was one more celebration on the Saturday for all those volunteers who were unable to join us in Kampala. Now the reality of married life will begin to be negotiated; one of the first things is to apply for a UK visa for Moses which will set them back 750,000 Rfr. A lot on an allowance of 170,000 Rfr a month.