That looks like a dead cat

Some days ago I was walking down on my home street in the evening. It’s a muddy street full of holes and rubbish lying around and it’s dark. As I walked I looked down and saw a lumpy thing on the ground. I joked and said that it looks like a dead cat and was about to step on it when I realized that it was a dead cat. Welcome to Wandegeya, the place in Kampala that never sleeps and which has become home to me.

Kampala is just as I left it: noisy, dusty and full of life. People still yell “muzungo” after you as if they got paid for every time they said that word and it’s a never ending line of random people who start talking to you in the streets or hand out their business card. Today as I sat in the taxi on my way to the office I must have looked like I really wanted to have a cake because a woman who sat right next to me gave me, without a word, her business card on which it showed that she’s making cakes for birthdays, weddings etc. Yesterday as I was standing in the street talking to a friend, three girls at the age of 11 came up to me and bombed me with lots of questions such as my name, where I come from and what I believe in. These people are harmless and I don’t mind, but what about the Indian man who pinched my bum meanwhile I was hugging Isaac when we were out at a bar one night. Pinching wasn’t enough. He still came back and stood 2 meters away from me staring in such a way as only Indian people can stare –very persistently. I’ve now considered starting up a freak show with only me in it. “Come and watch the freak! 5000 shillings only!” I could make lots of money only by being myself! The definition of “white” is interesting: here it could mean anything between very good and very bad. White is never just white.

Still, I’m happy to be here. I stay at the same hostel as last time I was here and you just have to feel like home when you have people in the street yelling “oh, Pamela! You’re back!” the same evening you arrive. I’d like to move out from the hostel, and I will later on, but I think it was good to go back there now to start with. It made me feel less lost. I’m planning to look for a little place on my own and move out from the hostel sometime in December. Until then I stay in Wandegeya and let the people in office and the guards at Akamwesi (my hostel) laugh at me. I blame Isaac for that, a muzungo girl together with a black guy?? Oh dear, oh dear…

Last time I stayed at Akamwesi, the electricity was almost always gone. This has now changed, I have rarely problems with power but water in my room is scarce. Don’t know exactly what the problem is, but at least I can get water from the tap outside. I’m happy I live on the first floor and not on the top floor. Big buckets with water are heavy to carry.

My work at the National Union of Disabled Women of Uganda (NUWODU) is fine. I say fine, because sometimes it’s very good and I get to go to interesting places, see a lot of things and meet a lot of people but there are also times when there’s absolutely nothing to do. Like right now, I’m in the office but write on my blog instead of doing some work. I hope this will change at some point. But the people that work here are wonderful and I’ve already seen and learnt lots despite the lazy days.