Last weekend as I sat in the departure lounge waiting to board my flight for a short trip home to the UK, while trying to ignore the noise that the latest American Christian do-gooders were making, I was thinking about my time in Uganda. It has been almost 4 months since I left the White Cliffs far behind and set out in Livingstone and Stanley's faded footsteps destined for Kampala. With that first third of a year under my belt I've settled into a work and play balance initially slightly biased towards work and have managed to figure out most of the geographically and culture quirks of this happy and vibrant African capital city. My local lingo has almost fully developed into a strange mix of Pigeon English with a smattering of local Lugandan words and plenty of Uganda expressions. I've become accustomed to the ins and outs of the city’s transportation and am almost pleased to say that my driving skills have fallen to a standard that allows me to weave around motorbike taxi's, through standstills at roundabouts and between the large potholes with the worst of them. I've been lucky and have found plenty to do out here to keep me occupied outside of the numerous parties; with rugby on Mondays, flight training at the Kajjansi Aeroclub at weekends and the pub quizzes at Bubbles' Irish pub to name but a few. But I am definitely happy to say that it's just three weeks until Helen arrives and only one week until I can pack up the Land Rover and move into the new house with its West facing veranda and (slight) lake view – perfect for a sundowner gin and tonic in the evenings. Most of my time in Uganda so far has been spent within Kampala; finding my feet, gaining a grasp of the work and waiting to share the experiences of the bush and various game parks with Hels on her arrival. However, thanks to a nice little project that I will be working on for the Tag Rugby Trust this year, that changed ever so slightly recently with my first out-of-town site visit;
The first time I saw the name Mbale, Uganda, was in the opening scene after the titles at the start of Casino Royale where the Bond villain Le Shiffre arrives in a wet and muddy freedom fighters jungle headquarters in three dark green 110 Land Rovers to meet this particular bands' leader. The character is undoubtedly based on Joseph Kony; the Ugandan rebel and head of the Lord’s Resistance Army, who was chased out of the country initially into the Democratic Republic of Congo before being forced further north into the relative safety of the Central African Republic. Kony, who established the LRA after visions from God as an altar boy and driven by his dark spirits, has orchestrated a long and costly war against Uganda and its leaders. He is classed, quite rightly, as a terrorist and with countless cross border raids back into Northern Uganda, is believed to have captured in the region of 70,000 children to serve as troops in his child army since its inception in 1986. However despite an international arrest warrant and the large US/UN financial aid in helping capture him the 'Wizard of the Nile' remains at large and with the abundant availability of gold, minerals, timber and diamonds in the DRC – Uganda produced 11,000 carats of diamonds in 1998 despite not having any fields of its own – just how actively he is being pursued is a question of some debate; a topic that is covered in depth by Jane Bussman (see right hand side)
Although in the film there may be some clear similarities with the true rebel leader, the same cannot be said for the location of Mbale. The film's deep lush rain forest location is a million miles from the flat Savannah plains that surround and include the region that shares its name with the main city at the base of the foothills of Mt Elgon; one of the tallest volcanic prominence's in the country. After three and a half hours at the wheel, passing through small villages and towns that have sprung up along the new tarmac ribbon threading its way between Iganga and Mbale, I rolled to a stop in the town centre surrounded by old colonial buildings that, beneath their new gloss of old election posters, sang of the towns' 1950's boom time. As I mentioned, I was here to visit a new Tag Rugby site, an old rugby ground that hasn't been graced by a spin-pass, drop kick or thumping tackle in the last 40 years. Under the shadow of the impressive Bufombo Hills, looking somewhat similar to a Ugandan Table Mountain, I spoke to some local farmers who confirmed - in fairly comic renditions - that indeed the Muzungus once played here, but since the 70's the only thing that has stood in these leveled fields has been wheat and cattle. The site is a great one, perfect for rugby and with that stunning view I hope that the Trust can raise enough finances to create their goal so that I can come back and watch/play some games at the rejuvenated ground.
For photos that follow this blog & the rest of our time in East Africa. Follow the Flickr link;
