Travelling to Kampala

Is it only in Africa where a 20-mile bus ride can take 2 hours? After a full morning of birding around Entebbe’s botanical gardens, I headed back to Entebbe Backpackers to pack and shower before heading off to meet Gen in Kampala. As expected, I paid for 2 seats due to the over-humungous size of my backpack…not a problem. I knew the distance was not great and was warned that it might take 1.5 hours to get to the capital because of traffic. After picking up and dropping off en-route what seemed to have been the entire population of Entebbe, the driver finally pulled over and said that that was the end and we should get out. Having spent close to 30 minutes to travel the final half mile, I planned on walking several blocks north with my bags to get on the north side of Kampala’s center to get past what had to be the worst traffic jam in the history of traffic jams, but instead I chose NOT to follow my own advice and took the first boda-boda that I saw. This, after figuring that there was absolutely NO WAY that a Ugandan motorcycle driver would be able to take not only my weight, but the 60+ pounds of weight that was in my 2 backpacks. He assured me that it would not be a problem and after negotiating a price of 5,000 Shillings (approximately $1.20), we were on our way. Two seconds into the journey I realized that the 2-3 mile journey to the Kolping Hotel would not be a quick one. Words cannot describe the traffic jam that we found ourselves in. With no traffic signals, stop signs, nor care for road rules, the streets of central Kampala were literally lacking in a foot of clear and empty space between any two vehicles and/or pedestrians…all of which chose their own routes to traverse the city. After the first 20 minutes we had traveled less than one full block and the thought of my knees being shattered by oncoming traffic made me rethink traveling on these death traps. Thirty minutes into the journey my driver, who had been sandwiched between the handlebars and my massive pack had suddenly dismounted and said something to the like of “We must now walk”. We pushed the moto, with the backpack balancing on the bike’s seat, through traffic and eventually to a gas station another half block away. We had run out of gas!! No big worries. We filled up and were off once again, weaving and dodging foot traffic, trucks, buses, and other boda-bodas. We were suddenly free of the jam and sped at an alarming rate down Bombo Street. It soon became apparent that my chauffeur did not know of the Kolping Hotel and on two occasions stopped and asked for directions. Almost one hour after starting the journey I could see the Kolping Hotel sign. One hour to travel what had to be no more that 2.5 miles!! Feeling bad for the driver, I gave him a few thousand extra Shillings, shook his hand, and headed inside to check in at reception. Gen had not yet arrived back from her site visit to Arua and I patiently waited in the lobby, all the while enjoying a refreshing glass of passion fruit juice that the receptionist gave me. Not 10 minutes into my wait and I could hear Gen’s voice coming from the parking lot area. After almost a month separated, we were together once again!

Entebbe Botanical Gardens

After a relatively peaceful and comfortable night camping on the front lawn of the hostel, I caught a boda-boda (motorcycle w/driver that is used for getting around town…and Uganda’s most common form of public transportation) to the Entebbe Botanical Garden for a morning of birding. I paid the driver and as I approached the entrance, I read the garden’s sign that said the opening time was 9:00. This seemed bizarre, as I know the gardens are a popular birding site and 9 o’clock seemed very late to begin birding. The gate was open, so I decided to walk in, even though it was only 8am. I immediately saw a guy who told me to just go in and that I could pay the entrance later.

I ended up spending about 4 hours in the park. Birding was great with stuff popping up all around me. The best birding was down on the shores of Lake Victoria where, by the end of the morning, I had tallied a total of 66 species, including 8 “lifers” (species I had never seen or had overlooked and not recorded). Among the 8 lifers were Red-Headed Lovebird, Angola Swallow and Northern Brown-Throated Weaver (two birds I had undoubtedly overlooked in previous outings throughout Africa), Slender-Billed Weaver, Golden-Backed Weaver, Weyns’s Weaver, Black-Crowned Waxbill, and Western Citril. Most, if not all of the other 50+ species were all familiar to me, and while they were not new birds, it was great to see them after a nearly 7 year absence from the continent!

Getting to Entebbe

The flight from Copenhagen was long, yet painless. After spending my last few hours walking around the beautiful city of Copenhagen, I headed to the train station and caught a train out to the airport. After nearly an hour of arranging and rearranging my baggage to avoid paying excess baggage fees, I checked in and away I went. The first leg of the journey took me to Amsterdam and after a 1.5-hour flight and 2-hour layover, I was off to Dubai. Six hours later we were in what seemed to be the absolute middle of nowhere on Earth. The desert surrounding the city was vast and I never saw anything that resembled civilization outside the area of the seemingly biggest airport in the world. Gen and I had been to Dubai’s airport once before on our way home from Zambia and I remembered it to be first class. This time, however, things were not quite the same. After a very long walk from our gate the passengers from Etihad’s Amsterdam flight converged with hundreds of passengers from what seemed to be several other arriving flights. Herded like cattle through transit/immigration, I made it to my connecting flight to Entebbe with fifteen minutes to spare. We boarded a transport bus that drove us what seemed to be at least 2-3 miles to our plane. As we exited the bus, we were hit by a heat that reminded me of Las Vegas at noon on any given day in the month of July. The thermometer on the screen at my seat read 114 degrees for the outside temperature, and it was only 8 o’clock in the morning! The flight to Entebbe was around 5 hours, but the time seemed to pass by quickly as I spent the entire flight talking to the guys sitting next to me. One guy was headed to Uganda with a group of students from England who would spend a month in Mbale doing a cultural visit. The other guy was from Spain and he was going to visit his girlfriend who had been volunteering outside of Kampala for a few months. The most memorable part of the flight to Entebbe was seeing the landscapes change from brown desert of northwestern Kenya to lush green hills as we entered Uganda. The change was abrupt and I could actually see a north-south line dividing the two countries.

We arrived at Entebbe’s airport around 1:00 pm, disembarked, and joined the line for immigration. On the flight over I had learned that Uganda had increased the cost of their visas from $50 to $100 and I was happy that I had opted to send my passport to the Ugandan embassy in Washington prior to traveling, thus saving me $50 bucks! My fellow row mates were not so fortunately and had to fork out the extra money to enter the country. In line I met a Filipina from Cebu (they’re everywhere!!) and practiced (butchered) my long-forgotten Visayan. She lives in South Korea where she teaches English along with her Ugandan-born husband. She was there to meet her in-laws who, after having been married for 5 years, she had still not yet met.

I breezed through both immigration and customs, got some cash from the ATM, and then scanned the mob of people outside the airport for Billy Mambo. Gen came into contact with Billy through some people in San Francisco and after exchanging a few e-mails, he offered to pick me up at the airport. I was not 100% sure he’d be there as I had written to him a few days earlier to tell him not to bother as I had planned to spend the night in Entebbe and it would be a waste of time for him to travel so far out of his way just to escort me a couple miles to where I was staying. Ten minutes, and a thousand offers to drive me into town later, I saw the Spanish guy from the plane with his girlfriend and asked them how they were getting to Kampala. We shared a taxi into Entebbe where they were dropped off on the side of the road where they could hail a passing “matatu” (minibus used as public transportation) and I was taken to Entebbe Backpackers where I would spend the night.

Gen in Washington, DC

After leaving SF, Gen had a harrowing experience checking in. She did not expect to have overweight luggage. She had to scramble and rearranged things to avoid paying for a 3rd bag. After checking in, she had her carry on luggage and a clear plastic for things that did not fit in her carry-on bag. She was assured by the luggage check in clerk that it would be okay. Not! She was denied at the security point of SFO and was told to check her carry-on as it was too big. Ops! She returned to the check in area, silently hoping that she would get help ASAP as she was eyeing the time. Her watch said that she had 10 minutes before boarding. The lady at the counter was helping a family while Gen waited for her turn, trying not to look very impatient and desperate. The lady noticed nevertheless and Gen got the attention she needed. She relayed her story to the lady and told her that she would have to pay $150 for the 3rd bag. Gen invoked the airline manager’s help in waiving the fee by telling the lady helping her that she was on her way to volunteer in Africa. By the way, she had asked the airline’s customer service rep a day before if there was a way to waive a 3rd bag fee. The rep mentioned that she had to ask at the airport’s counter. And so she did and received what she asked!!! Saving $150!!!! After this, she tried to be expedited through security check due to her boarding time. The security lady looked at her boarding pass and assured her that she had time. Looking at her watch, she hoped that the lady was right. She got through security but forgot that she had a small container of unopened peanut butter in her plastic bag carry-on. Sadly, she had to give up that creamy peanut butter. An additional loss, since she had to give up a 500 ml or so shampoo already during the initial check in. However, these losses were nothing compared to the $150 dollar saving! She dragged her plastic bag carry on to Gate 68 after the confiscation of the peanut butter. She found the gate to be deserted and asked a uniformed airline employee nearby if the airplane’s gate had been closed. The response was, “The plane just arrived.” Wow!! What an unexpected outcome. Gen realized then that she had been reading her watch wrongly. Since she just returned from Nicaragua, she thought she had to subtract an hour from what her watch displayed. Whew!!! Her watch was telling the right time after all. Ops! What a stressful start to an adventure. The plane arrived in Washington, DC at least 30 minutes early. However, Gen had to wait for close to 2 hours before she was able to claim her bags. What a “payment” for having waived the 3rd bag fee. It did get better though since she had a “luxurious” accommodation at St. Gregory Luxury Hotel & Suites. Gen and I are so used to camping and staying at cheap places that what would be normal for a lot of people would be luxury to us. So, for at least 10 days, Gen enjoyed her en suite accommodation in DC while receiving pre-departure orientation for her volunteer job in Uganda. She was able to connect with friends long seen and visited some sights.

Bernal Heights...We Will Miss You!!

It was 13 years ago this month that Gen and I arrived in San Francisco and we have known no other home than the neighborhood of Bernal Heights. We started off on a one-month sublet in a house shared by a handful of 20-something year olds, but quickly made the acquaintance of Shukry Lama who had a small downstairs apartment for rent at 28 Ellert St. After 2.5 years in the city, Gen and I decided to quit our jobs and go travelling around South-East Asia for four months. We had given up the apartment and drove to Buffalo to leave our car and belongings. Upon returning from our trip I called Shukry and asked him if he had any other apartments available. It turned out that our old apartment was still available so we moved right back in...same neighborhood, same neighbors, and same rent. Two months later we received a message from Peace Corps telling us that there were two spots open for the next group going to Guinea and that if we accepted, we'd be leaving in January, just 4 months later. After thinking it over for half a second, we accepted and let Shukry know that we'd be leaving again. And so we did...and for the next three years we lived in Guinea-Mali-Zambia-Guyana...not knowing if or when we'd ever return to San Francisco.

As Gen's time with Peace Corps in Guyana was nearing its end, I had set up a one-month sublet in Oakland where I worked on finding a place to live in San Francisco. Soon after arriving back in California, I called Shukry, figuring that if our apartment had been available the last time we came back, perhaps it would be available again. No such luck. BUT...the house on the adjoining lot, also Shukry-owned, had an area downstairs that had been used as a storage space, and could be used as an apartment. I can still remember him saying to me, in his Palestinian-Chilean-American accent, "Hmph...you like, you take. You no like, you no take." So I took it.

Then one day I came home from work and saw a white posted note attached to the house with bright blue duct tape. It was a notice from the city inspector's office stating that our apartment was under investigation for possibly being an illegal unit. After several visits by the inspector and several pleas by the landlords to not find it illegal, we were informed that we would have to leave and the apartment's interior would be stripped of all its fixtures. Thinking that SF has strong tenants' rights, I did not worry much until we found out that 1.) we were NOT protected under rent control (as the building had been built post-1980) and 2.) As tenants living in an illegal unit, we had no rights. So we moved out yet again and went to Australia for the summer. We'd worry about finding a new place when we got back.

Gen is ready for her ride to the airport. The small bag has Gen's stuff. The two large bags are filled with my birding equipment, field guides, and camping equipment. A few days before returning from Australia, I had e-mailed Shukry's daughter, asking her if the city had issued the eviction papers. They hadn't, so I asked her if we could move back in. After speaking with their lawyer, she said that it would be OK, but that we may be evicted at any time. No problem!! That was two years ago!! Either the city forgot, or doesn't really care that we're living here. So...13 years later and we are leaving again. We plan on being gone through July of 2016 and plan on being homeless upon our return. But if history tells me anything, Gen and I will not be too far away from 363 Bocana St.

Finalizing Itinerary of First Leg of Trip

As Gen and I prepare to make the final move out of our beloved apartment on Bocana St., I am finding time to finalize my itinerary for the first stage of my journey to Africa. Gen will be leaving for Washington DC on July 12 for a 10-day orientation and I will leave two days later. Having enjoyed our Spring-Break vacation to Prague-Vienna-Budapest-Munich, I've planned a two-and-a-half week stop over in Europe before meeting up with Gen in Kampala on August 5th. The first stop will be to Stockholm, Sweden for 2 days.

From Stockholm I will fly to Krakow, Poland where I am sure I'll be amazed by the beautifully well-preserved buildings of the old town. From Krakow, I'll catch the Polskibus to Warsaw where I hope to score tickets to the AC/DC concert that will happen later in the week.

I'll take an overnight bus to Gdansk, birthplace of Poland's Solidarity movement and where WWII began.

From Gdansk, I head to Poznan, located in western Poland. It is here where my maternal side of my family comes from and I look forward to walking the same streets as did my long-lost family members. Poznan is also where my recent Couchsurfing guests hail from and I'm excited to check out the restaurants they recommended, which serve such specialties as Gzik and Kaszanka.

It's then on to Berlin for a couple days and then an overnight bus ride to Copenhagen where I'll meet up with former Peace Corps Guinea volunteer Andrea and her Danish family.

The Adventure is About to Begin

As many of you know, Gen and I have both taken leaves of absence from our jobs with the San Francisco Unified School District. Having gone nearly seven years straight without living abroad, we will once again uproot ourselves from San Francisco and travel to Uganda, East Africa where we will spend the next 12 months. Gen will be reliving one of her dream jobs of teaching nursing and I will continue my quest to see every species of bird in Sub-Saharan Africa. More specifically, Gen will be working as a nurse educator at Muni University in the north-western town of Arua, Uganda. The program, known as the Global Health Service Partnership, is joint partnership between the U.S. Peace Corps, PEPFAR, and Seed Global Health that sends physician, nurse, and midwife educators to Uganda, Tanzania, and Malawi for a year to help train future healthcare providers. As for me, I will be spending most of my time in search of Africa's avian wildlife, with plans of travelling throughout the continent in search of those elusive birds that I did not see on past trips. We invite you all to follow us on this year-long adventure and hope you enjoy what we have to share.