'My name is not Mzungu'

Kampala Music School. Situated just north of the centre of Kampala, near the uptown area of Kololo

The last 2 weeks have been overwhelming. I knew moving to Kampala would be a challenge, but there is nothing here that resembles my life in London. Except music. I’m in the capital of Uganda for the next year, volunteering for ‘the centre of excellence in classical music in Uganda’ that is Kampala Music School. Work has been slow to start, but next week I will be thrown in to a full schedule of violin, viola and cello (!) teaching at KMS and also for their various outreach programmes. Meanwhile, I have been exploring this wild city, nicknamed ‘the city that never sleeps’ of Africa, trying to find my feet. (When I used this phrase on a friend the other day, he helpfully pointed out that my feet can be found on the end of my legs).

Kampala is set in seven hills and so there are some fantastic views to be found. The very centre of the city is quite modern, with sky scrapers, shopping malls, parks, and a National Theatre. Uphill from the centre is a very pleasant area with colonial style buildings and even a golf course (yes, in the city centre, with a main road running through!) By huge contrast, down the hill from the centre, things get incredibly hectic.... the roads are congested with matatus heading for the matatu park, the streets are lined with markets and stalls, and the general population seems to increase ten-fold.

View from Makindye hill

I’m staying in a calm, suburban area in Southern Kampala called Makindye (‘ma-chin-dyay’), which sits on top of a hill and is beautifully green. Unfortunately, though, it is on the opposite side of the city from Kampala Music School. My commute involves a matatu - misleadingly called ‘taxis’ here when in fact they are public buses - to the taxi park, a stressful walk through downtown (the roads are impossible to cross), then another taxi and another little walk. Particularly downtown, my fair skin attracts attention and rouses shouts of ‘Mazungu! Mazungu!’ which is mostly meant as friendly banter (I think) but can get irritating. This is clearly a common frustration with foreigners though, as I noticed you can buy fabric bracelets in the craft market, embroided ‘My name is not Mazungu’.

Other than accommodation, Kampala is an inexpensive place to live. The markets and roadside-sellers offer an abundance of fresh mangos, pineapples, passion fruits, avocados, and all things delicious, which are local of course. A bus in to town is between 10-20p, and for lunch at KMS, one can buy a huge plate of freshly cooked Ugandan food for just 95p!

My standard Ugandan lunch – matoke (boiled and mashed green plantain), rice, beans, greens, and ugali/ posho (maize meal). Sometimes, instead of beans, a sauce made from ground nuts (peanuts) is served

 Other things that are taking time to adjust to include:

• ‘African time’. I was kindly taken to a Ugandan wedding last week which started at 4pm, but most attendees - bridal party included - wandered in at about 6pm!

• Ugandan’s are very friendly, and they take their time greeting you, especially when you are meeting for the first time. Handshakes always go on for longer than I expect, and all conversations – even with a complete stranger whom you just want to ask directions – start with ‘how are you?’

• It’s hot - really hot - and apparently set to get hotter. I’m sweating more than I would in a bikram yoga class, and deodorant does nothing in this heat.

• The downpours. October-November (as well as March-April) are rainy seasons, which mean for about 1 hour of the day - usually when you’re least expecting it - the heavens open and the whole city comes to a standstill. It is perfectly acceptable to not turn up, or be late for work, because ‘it was raining’.

• Red earth. Which I actually love! But a lot of the roads are not surfaced in tarmac, so after a downpour, roads turn in to muddy swamps, and red rivers gush through the city. My new cream-coloured Havaianas flip-flops are unrecognisable.

• Marabou Storks (unofficial national bird of Uganda). These things are massive, and the sort of bird you might expect to see in a safari park. But yet here they are in Kampala, chilling out in the city centre trees. I just find them a bit creepy.

So before I sign off, just a quick word about language... Although most guide books state the national language is Swahili, in Kampala it is actually Luganda that is most commonly spoken (alongside English). It’s a really tricky language so I have only picked up two Luganda words so far, from listening to the lovely young family who are hosting me for the time-being. ‘Webale’ means thank you, which is obviously invaluable to know, and the only other word in my vocabulary is ‘su-su’, meaning wee-wee...