I’ve just returned from three months in Uganda and frankly, I’m not handling it all that well. Fortunately, my parents understand that I do think it is nice to see them and to be back at home, even if I do keep intermittently shedding a few tears. Is this normal? I suppose I might be a little emotional from travelling and lack of sleep, but I genuinely do miss Uganda a whole lot – so much so that I’m going to have to make a list of things I won’t miss in an attempt to preserve my sanity.
I won’t miss:
Mosquitoes. I think a mosquito must have heard I was leaving and called all the local mosquitoes round for one last feast. Either that or I got dressed with one stuck down my trouser leg. I have 20 bites on my left leg and 4 on my right – more than at any other time I was there. Every itch is a reminder of how glad I am to be rid of them.
Power cuts. Always at an inconvenient time, the most inconvenient being as I was packing to leave. Only an hour and a half to go, and four bags worth of crap to try and fit into one rucksack. (Somebody went a little overboard with last minute souvenir purchasing.) It is really quite pleasant not to have that dread that any minute now plans to watch a DVD or read a book may be scuppered by a sudden loss of electricity. On a similar note, it was a bit of a shock to be sitting at home in the light at 9.30pm last night. I like light evenings. I won’t miss equatorial sundown at 7pm. Although it can be very pretty.
Sunset over the Nile
Dust. My clothes are full of dust from the dry red roads and the black fumes of diesel-belching trucks. It’s not just the clothes either – my snot is going to be noticeably clearer in a day or two. Gross but true.
Washing by hand. Although made considerably easier by being able to rely more on the sun to dry clothes there, it’s a pain having to wash by hand. All hail the washing machine.
Also, no concerns about the mango fly potentially laying its larvae in your clothes to then burrow in your skin. However, I will miss having the majority of my washing and ironing done for me.
I won’t miss living out of a vastly reduced wardrobe and wearing the same things over and over – I guess that problem would be easily surmountable though if staying for a longer time, by buying clothes there.
People begging on the street. At first I felt terrible and hated seeing people begging for what was, to me, a paltry sum – but I soon became more inured to it, especially when I realised how systematic it is, and how giving money to beggars just perpetuates the problem.
I won’t miss getting up at 5.45 when everyone else is still asleep – especially if there’s no power and the sun doesn’t rise for another half an hour. I’m genetically a night owl. Although getting up early does mean a more productive day…
I won’t miss the traffic. Seriously, Kampala traffic is in a league of its own. I got pretty used to it after a short time, but I still remember arriving and being so scared I had to close my eyes. I was sleepy and I thought if I was going to die in a traffic accident, I might as well be dreaming happily. So I put all my faith in Jimmy’s driving ability and let fate have its way. Then I was jolted awake by a near miss. Happy dreams weren’t so easy to come by after that, and it was with relief that I stepped out of the car on arrival at Claire’s house. Funny how quickly Kampala driving became the norm. I haven’t got back behind the wheel since I got back but I hope I can remember what lane discipline is, and how one is supposed to behave on roundabouts.
Potholes. Many a time has my head suffered an unexpected meeting with the roof or window of a vehicle when going over a particularly bumpy road. Potholes are more than just potholes in Uganda. They’re more like craters. Traversing Kampala is like driving across the moon. Possibly. If the moon had a population of 1.6 million.
Kampala
The moon
I won’t miss the corruption, at every level and in virtually every field. Although, once you know about it, you can’t un-know it. It is devastating to realise how African countries are crippled by corrupt governments and systems. It’s equally frustrating to realise that no matter what we try to do to help with aid, all we are really managing is handing out extra teaspoons to bail out the leaky boat – nobody is fixing the hole.
I’m running out of things I won’t miss. For balance, here’s a brief list of the things I will:
First and foremost; Jo and Mhoira and all the wonderful Palliative Care Team at Mulago Hospital. They were the reason I went and everybody was so welcoming and lovely that I’m finding it hard to think about not being there still. I realise that I only achieved a fraction of what I could have achieved while there, but everything has contributed to crystallising what palliative care means to me, and confirming that I really want to do this as a career. Also, for inspiring me to work internationally. I wasn’t sure before I went whether I could spend an extended period of time living and working abroad, but my reactions to leaving have proved beyond doubt that I could.
Claire’s house. It was fun living like a student again, with lots of people around and a communal atmosphere. There were many changes of faces as people moved in and moved on and making so many new acquaintances and learning what people do was very enlightening. It can be a small world, the world of medicine, if you don’t venture beyond its boundaries. I am glad to say I do.
The dogs at Claire’s house. Poppy and Bella and Keira. It’s lovely to be back at home with my dog, Freddie, but soon I’ll be back in Liverpool with no dogs. Or pets of any kind.
The beautiful glorious sun and near perpetual blue skies. The gorgeous sunrises I was lucky to see nearly every morning (there was some good from getting up so early, after all).
The climate generally – a microclimate governed by Lake Victoria – was not what I expected from equatorial Africa; temperatures were nearly always a pleasant 24 degrees or so and neither too dry nor too humid.
The thunderstorms. I LOVE thunderstorms! Not so much being woken by them in the middle of the night, but even then – the whole room being lit up as bright as day by some spectacular lightning was pretty cool.
The lush green-ness. Well, England has some beautiful scenery too, but there’s something very aesthetically pleasing about the contrast between the verdant landscape and the red roads. It’s just so… African. It can be easy to fall into the trap of thinking Africa is nothing but the dry brown earth you see on television, but Uganda particularly is a very beautiful, green, fertile country, bisected by the mighty Nile, where you only have to plant a thing to see it grow.
The produce. Such wonderful fruit! Pineapples and watermelon and mangoes and bananas and passionfruit and jackfruit. Not to mention the avocados and aubergines. And all so cheap! A bag full of aubergines for 500 shillings (12p). I need to go on an aubergine detox.
Lazy me will miss having my washing up and laundry done and bed made and bathroom cleaned. Man, I was spoiled there.
I’m going to miss such a lot of things, it doesn’t bear thinking about. I’ll just have to plan to go there again. I really hope I do. There are still some hurdles to jump but as they say: where there’s a will, there’s a way.
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