welcome to africa

First impressions

I stepped off the plane in Nairobi and took a deep breath. Whenever I travel to a new region of the world I always have this small, irrational worry that there will be some foreign pollen or dust that my body will reject and I will quickly die of a serious allergic reaction. I'm told that this is unlikely. But nonetheless it always goes through my head when I step off a plane.

Since I didn't immediately die of anaphylactic shock, I proceeded to pick up our bags. We were going to spend a night in Nairobi before flying to Kampala the next day. Marya and I were traveling with Chris, a fellow medical student from Edmonton who would be working with Marya at the hospital in Mbarara. He had never traveled to a third world country before but, surprisingly, Nairobi was relatively tame in terms of pollution, garbage and chaos. Maybe he - and I along with him - started to think this Africa thing wasn't going to too much of a culture shock.

Capital chaos

Kampala, the capital city of Uganda, certainly choked out those thoughts. Kampala was a "bustling city" on steroids. They took bustle to a whole new level. The centre of town was just a traffic jam. Cars didn't move. They just sat there. Maybe they were parked. I don't know. The streets were full of throngs of people. Music was blaring. Horns were honking. People were yelling. Loaded down with bags and guitar, we just had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other as we shuffled through the crowds from A to B.

Our main goal in Kampala was to buy a cell phone so we could phone our contact in Mbarara. I'm not sure if Kampala has figured out supply and demand yet but it seemed that there was definitely a supply-heavy market for cell phones. Every second store in the city is a cell phone shop. I have no idea how each shop turns a profit. I also have no idea where you go to buy anything else. If we had arrived in Kampala needing ANYTHING ELSE, we would be left helpless in a sea of cheap cell phones.

Chris and I each bought a phone and then the three of us shuffled through the mass of humanity to a nearby restaurant. We sat down for dinner and soon realized my cell phone had been stolen. Taken right out of my backpack pocket within ten minutes. It was my first time being pickpocketed. But, as I said, cell phones are EVERYWHERE. I feel like trying to pawn off a stolen cell phone in Kampala is like trying to pawn off a stolen doughnut in Tim Hortons.

We fell asleep that night to the pitter pattering of a mouse running around our room and thumping bass outside our window. Welcome to Africa.