I started writing this last week at 10:30pm on Saturday. I was laying in bed at Mamba Hotel in Kampala. Gloria and Sarah who were sharing the room with me had just said, “good night” in response to my “boothabeh” (gnite in Luo). Esther took the three of us along with her to run a whole bunch of COHU errands in regards to purchasing material, observing new designs for products and repairing cars, sewing machines, etc. There is a lot to experience in Kampala, namely the nightlife that I am yet to enjoy because I’ve travelled here with women who have no interest in drinking nor dancing, especially not in the same dwelling. Personally, I haven’t gone to a club since last summer because I grew tired of wasting money and enduring prolonged panic attacks after being inevitably groped. The doors and windows of the room we were occupying had begun vibrating and I was sure I wouldn’t end up sleeping the way I didn’t the night before. We arrived in Kampala around 1am, Friday night, and spent the night at a place that accommodated people after a night out. I spent the night itching myself out of a mixture of paranoia and mosquito bites. I felt the bass of the music outside keeping me awake and it was the same situation for another night in a row.
On Thursday I was made aware that I would be joining the three to Kampala Friday morning to return the next day. However, fixing the vehicle we were going to ride to the big city only started Friday afternoon. I sat patiently at the office, waiting for African time to kick in so we could finally leave but that didn’t happen until 5pm. As soon as I got into the vehicle, I regretted accepting the invitation to join the group as they, unlike me, were well acquainted and fluent in Luo. I spent the drive attempting to read then moving onto podcasts as I couldn’t pay attention with all the conversation around. I kept myself occupied enough to ignore the fact that the jeep had to keep stopping for minor repairs as well as the fact that the place we went to for dinner had absolutely no food I could eat as a vegetarian. Once we reached the bar accommodation, Gloria fell asleep immediately after speaking to her husband and child. I laid there waiting until my body would finally give into the rest it needed. It didn’t happen.
Early the next morning we went to give the jeep in for major repairs. As Esther and her brother spoke to the mechanics, we were given breakfast to eat in the car. Then we took a Kampala taxi, a large white van with broken seats filled in with as many people as it can fit, to the heart of the city. Everything was overwhelming once we got there, there were thousands of people around poaching you to buy their food, toys, shoes, or just simply give them money. With my backpack clinging onto my shoulders and two bags on both hands, I followed Esther unaware of where we were going next but determined to walk closely behind her. I knew I wasn’t safe, especially not as a foreigner and most definitely not as a woman. Most men I walked passed tried to or succeeded to grab onto me when I didn’t respond to their crude comments. We finally reached a tailoring building in which tailors rent spaces to sew and supply clothes. We brought two sewing machines with us to get them repaired. Gloria and I Left shortly after to adventure the city’s craft shops. We first went to a few craft shops that sold a variety of handmade items from keychains, coasters, art, clothes, shoes and jewelry. The two of us bought a few things after attempting to bargain. Then we went to a mall to visit the Banana Boat Crafts shop. Everything in there was gorgeous and a lot more heavily priced as it was for foreigners to purchase them. We were soon pretty tired so we sat down for some freshly squeezed lemonade and cold water, as I ate a veggie burger and she had fish and chips.
As we were eating, Gloria began telling me of more of her hardships-we spoke more than we had all the while we’ve known each other during that time. It was a nice lunch. Something in me felt compelled to pay for lunch, I regrettably did without considering the monthly income she had while I am paying to volunteer. Then we went to the East African crafts shops in Kampala for more browsing rather than purchasing. Once we were done with crafts department errands, we returned to Sarah and Esther who were still waiting on the sewing machines. I sat on a bench in the building, waiting as the three of them talked and then left me with the bags to go look at fabrics. A lot of time went by as I sat there. Once the machines were ready, we were back to walking around for no reason I could understand as everyone seemed distressed, speaking in Luo. After some more time had passed, we met with Esther’s brother who brought us into Mamba Hotel. I immediately set my things down and went out to smoke two cigarettes and reply to my friend in BC who is discovering new love (SUH CUHYUTE). I tried to think positively, to wash away my resentment towards being a foreigner among the people I was with. I am yet to grow close to any of them and I simply may not because we are so different beyond language and culture.
For dinner, I had an egg sandwich while the two girls ate fish and chicken. The service at Mamba Hotel was horrible-I mean you wouldn’t go to many places in Uganda for good service but people were just understaffed and rude to paying guests here. I gave the waitress and chef a piece of my mind when we were overcharged- the chef giggled as he said sorry and referred to me as “little mama”. Gloria, Sarah and I returned to our room to continue our conversation on child birth before they knocked off to sleep. I gave up trying to sleep around 5am and went to take a shower which amazed me with hot water. It was a pleasant surprise, I stood with the shower head for about 45 minutes (the longest shower I’ve taken since coming to Uganda). Then I returned to my phone, in bed, speaking to my friends so I don’t feel as alone as I was starting to feel. Once Sarah and Gloria woke, they got ready and went back to bed. Instead of inquiring about the itinerary for the day, I just closed my eyes and laid in bed until further notice.
Later in the morning, we walked over to where the car was being repaired- to no one's surprise we found that it was not ready. We sat in an office for a couple hours and then Gloria decided we’d go to town. I followed her and Sarah around a series of markets in silence. The place they chose for breakfast once again did not have vegetarian options so I went for a walk about to find something to snack on. More groping and hollering occurred so I ran back to the girls with no food. At the giant, main market in Kampala, the men were extremely aggressive. I saw a guy walk towards me with his palm open and directed at me. Noticing the hand, I moved my arms up to cling onto my backpack straps as I looked away so as to not make eye contact with this creep. What I didn’t realize was the hand was not being prepared to grab my hand but rather grope me from the front. Despite having my arms and butt grabbed or caressed by strangers all weekend, I had no idea how to handle direct, public molestation like that. I immediately pushed the guy and turned around to look at his face in complete terror to ensure he was going to leave. He turned back smiling and gave me a flying kiss goodbye as he walked away. I had absolutely no power, no control, no space to move, no way of communicating with him or the people I was with about what had happened. I did not have any power, control or the ability to openly communicate in regards to this trip either.
Once they were done shopping, we went to a hotel bar for a snack. It was 2pm and I finally got to eat; my tastebuds rejoiced as I stuffed my mouth with french fries. The waiter brought out an ash tray so I could smoke on the balcony. Esther joined us after an hour-I say us but I was sitting separately so I could smoke while they spoke to each other in Luo. Then the three of them left me, once again, with the bags. As soon as they left, I could no longer push back my anxieties. It only took a day and a half but I felt absolutely neglected. I thought back to the many times my mother and sisters left me behind at home, or stuck me with my father or made me hold their bags as they, to my understanding, went off to have fun without me. I sat with this wave of emotions spilling out for several hours until they returned at 6pm. Then we headed to a taxi that would drive us back to Lira.
There is no real reason why it took me so long to write and post this other than the fact that I needed some time this week to recuperate emotionally. Fortunately, I have made friends out of the two intuitive fellas who live at home with me. The three of us are an odd mix but we work really well together. Spending time with them this week, indulging in more roll eggs, joints and maize was exactly what I needed-a sense of Lira-style comfort.
