End Of The Road

Wow, I hadn’t realized that last post had actually gone up until that comment – I had broken it up into two because it was so big. So, here’s the last of it, the rest of the journey – A Road-Side View:

Bahati and Selwyn - On the road to Siteki, Swaziland. A beautiful place and an incredible experience with the McFadden family.

And Botswana - Asanti on the road

Another mini-bus station - in Gabarone

Great shot of Gabs - The Big Village

In Zimbabwe, on the road with Terry and a bus that broke down twice and was pulled over five times...all for a four-hour drive, and we had to transfer to another bus to complete the journey.

Intercape had a toilet, but Executive had style.

Sunrise on the Zambia-Zimbabwe border

The Dar - Arusha road

Rest stop

Arriving in Kampala

Adam waiting on a mini-bus in Kampala

Pete - Sunset in Eldoret

Eldoret to Nairobi

View from a mini-bus in Addis

Mini-bus above Addis - waiting for the rain

The Paris of East Africa

From the road in rural Ethiopia

Bole-tele' Road in Addis.

So Long.

Blog By Bus - A Picture Log

I guess it's been a while. This post has taken some time though. I admit, I've been A. Lazy and B. Distracted. I'm now in Boston, Massachusetts and have begun a masters program in International Relations. Between that and continuing work for bridges(.org), I've had some excuses. Also, blogger is so buggy, the picture post I've been wanting to do took quite a bit of work:

I went from attempting the post with direct photo uploads, was tempted to fire-bomb Mountain View, California (or wherever Google's headquarters are) and decided to import everything to Wordpress instead, that proved fruitless (anyone ever pulled this off?), so then I created a photobucket.com page for many of my pictures so that I could upload using Urls. To cut through that mumbo-jumbo: I've been copying and pasting pictures for a month...and it looks like I'll still have to post this in segments, probably by country.

I really wanted a picture post to end this blog though, because it really was a blog that was posted from a bus in a sense. My bus: slightly isolated, a bit alienating, yet still providing access to some people and some events, a good view of the road, a narrow perspective, but a life-altering one nonetheless.

Also, many of my posts were about mis-conceptions of Africa, and these pictures 'from the road' function well in that context. So, this will be the last post related to my trip. Now that I'm settled down and am at least planning to blog a lot more, this blog will transition into a new conception of crookednecks; one focused on a second-look at Africa, a look at how we receive Africa through the media in the North, a critique of that view, and a space to promote bloggers from Africa. I also have some other blog-projects in the making and will be returning to the Old Dirty Blog for a personnal space for general rants and communications. So check back soon.

Ok, from the road:

A leisurely tour of the thames

High-Speed into Soweto

The Mini-Bus Station: no place fascinated me more

A great view of Newtown in Jo'burg

The Nelson Mandela Bridge - spanning the traintracks that divide the city

The Vineyards - nearing Capetown

Lion's Head Peak - above Capetown

Table Mounain, Captown - at the trailhead

Got a train-ride in too - End of the line in Simonstown

Intercape Bus Lines - In retrospect, I can't believe I complained about this - one of my first - bus being a half-hour late. I mean, not only did the seats recline, but it had a toilet. These were the salad days.

Saving My Neck

Another long absence and I can't use poor connectivity as an excuse this time. I think I had gotten acclimated to such a slow internet connection because even the 36 MBS at my parents' house seems like lightning.

Have basically been catching up on what I use to call life. Being away from bills and paperwork and the general speed of things in the US only makes it that much harder to be a part of it all again. Not really much in the way of culture shock though, except Glenn Beck on CNN - are the serious with that shit?

Wanted to take this opportunity to thank a lot of people who helped me on my trip though. Without many of them and the nights in their homes they provided me, I would probably have been broke before I reached Ethiopia. More importantly, without all of their advice and assistance and friendship I would be a worse human being and probably a lot less content with the trip:

Charlie in Johannesburg
Jeannie in Johannesburg
Sagie and his family in Johannesburg
Franzi in Port Elizabeth
Pat and her entire family in Siteki
Kele and Asante in Gaborone
Luke in Gaborone
Simon, Seretse, Isang, and Gabriel in Gaborone
Douglas in Gaborone
Sumitro in Gaborone
Kaya in Francistown
Mr. Dube and his daughter Lindwe in Bulawayo
Terri (and Pat by proxy) in Gweru and Harare
The Kabade's in Harare
Justine in Daresalam
Derek in Daresalam
Ganga, Steve, Jess, and Anna in Arusha
Vincent in Kampala
Jonathan and Michael in Kampala
Johnathan in Kabale
Tom and Maria in Mbarrara
Pete, Nelly, and Shubha in Eldoret
Rick and his family in Addis
Wubet in Addis
Dani and Marion in Addis


All of these people went out of their way to help me in one way or another and I am eternally grateful. And if you happen to be a traveler, or are in a jam, or just happen to be homeless, now's probably a good time to hit-me-up becuase I'm anxious to repay the above samaritans.

When I was completely exhausted from having to be on-guard against thieves; every time I was frustrated by a bureaucratic, technological, or transport-related mishap; and once the constant feeling of being an outsider was about to conquer my own good will, I thought of everything these and other amazing people did for me and it more than got me through those times.

Ok, there will be more reflection to come on this blog, but nothing as sappy as those two paragraphs. Seriously, I love you all. I plan to write a little more about the trip and some of my overall impressions and I want to continue to analyze more State-side media outlets and how they're interpreting events in Africa and how this may or may not jive with what I was seeing on the ground. I'm especially interested in a certain violent border conflict for which the international community seems to have zero desire to forge a cease-fire. No, not Lebanon, that's getting plenty of attention: if you hadn't heard, Ethiopia is about to invade Somalia. However, the parallels with the conflicts surrounding Israel are quite astonishing - as is the lack of media attention.

So, I guess this blog will continue to look at crookedneck phenomena related to Africa, despite the fact that I'm now residing on what sometimes seems to be a much darker continent. But maybe that's just culture-shock.

Out Of Addis - Long Trip

They say you don’t need to reconfirm flights anymore for British Airways, but I say it’s always a good idea to drop by the office when you’re in Addis Ababa. I recalled that my flight time was changed when leaving the country on Lufthansa 3 years ago – Addis isn’t exactly a hub, so schedules fluctuate w/ demand – so I planned on checking on my flight a couple days before leaving; turns out it was only about 16 hours before leaving and my flight had been bumped up a day, with BA paying for a night in London before I catch the second-leg to New York.

This schedule change also added an extra destination to the trip, as I’m now writing from the tarmac in Alexandria, Egypt. I’m watching outside as they refuel and we should be leaving for Heathrow any minute. Funny, when we were in the air the pilot announced that we’d be on the ground in Alexandria for 45 minutes. We landed and kind of tooled around the airport for 20 minutes, then the pilot came back over the PA and said, “that’s right ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be on our way to London in 45 minutes, right on schedule…”

What’s worth any delay though is the fact that I got to see the pyramids on the way in. It’s a gorgeous day and they were illuminated in the sun on the edge of the Nile as we followed the river north. Very nice. Basically in the middle of the desert now at the airport though without much to see. Am realizing that this is my first brush with such arid conditions on this whole trip. Huh, and you would of thunk this whole continent was scorched and dusty…

So that was what I was writing from the tarmac in Alexandria, Egypt. By the time I got to London, the schedule had seriously changed. (Oh, more high-comedy over the flight PA: before we took off from Alexandria, with new passengers on board – I still had an entire row to myself – the following was actually said regarding in flight entertainment: “Our first-class travelers will be able to choose between a number of films, television shows, and news and sports for entertainment on channels one through eights and the rest of our passengers will have…on the main screen…[fumbling and totally off the script at this point]…a movie…yes, a movie.”) The British Airways folks in Heathrow told me that there was space on the next flight to New York and that they wouldn’t pay for my night in London, that being the case. So, I book-it to the other side of the airport, fail at attempting to change my Jet Blue flight that won’t leave New York for another 30hrs., and am on a plane trying to find phone numbers of people I know in New York City.

At JFK after some sleep and manage to change the Jet Blue flight, but can only leave a message on a friend’s voice mail to pick me up, a day early, at the Syracuse airport. Luckily I returned home to a big hug at the airport from two friends who had to leave the bar at midnight to come get me a day earlier than expected. I spent 16 hours in the air during a day of travel that started at 5am and ended at 12am the same day, yet there were 27 hours in between…not sure where that puts my speed of life, but I think I almost maxed out.

Out Of Addis - Short Trip

Sorgham and Lentil Crops
Originally uploaded by ODBennett.

Leaving Addis in any direction makes for a beautiful trip. I took a short sojourn to the Ethiopian Children's Fund School in Aleltu about 45 km outside of Addis. My friend Wubet, who was the librarian at Gibson during my time as a teacher, had volunteered there a couple of years ago. The purpose of the school is to provide not only education but also health care and meals for rural Ethiopian children. A much different mission than the middle-class private school that I taught at and a very successful model from what I observed. ECF is looking for volunteer teachers from overseas as well, so check them out at http://ethiopianchildrensfund.org/

On the way back from the school Mr. Wosene, the ECF's Country Representative stopped to donate some food bags to these sorghum and lentil farmers who were drying and sifting their crops on the road side.

Photo Update

Finally uploaded the photos from Kenya. Will also have the final couple posts in the next few days that will cover the last week in Addis and a crazy return flight.

Conflicted Cup

[Another delayed post; will be caught up to the current continent soon. Posting lots of pictures and am working on getting everything on the Flickr site labeled and organized]

Eventhough it’s the same-old cafés in Addis, a lot has changed. Since 2003, internal conflicts, controversial elections, regional destabalization, and related suppression of free-speech have dominated Ethiopian politics. Protesters have been shot in the streets, opposition MPs have been forced to quit and are currently up on treason charges, text-messaging was eliminated from the nations technological catelogue because of subversive messaging, and entire editions of independent newspapers have been burned in the streets. Meanwhile, economic growth is at an all-time high, the nation is enjoying unfettered support from the US and EU, and construction is booming in Addis.

For the average citizen of the capital, a state of high skepticism is what they’re left in. The most blatant change that’s tied to this skepticism and recent conflict: no one reads the newpapers anymore. If it’s in print, it’s government, and if it’s government it’s not worth reading. So maybe it’s not the Paris of East Africa, because everyone’s just sitting over there macchiattos staring out at the rain, unwilling to read the propaganda, a bit afraid to discuss politics, and too tired and jaded to get up to change these things.

To compound all this (or perhaps as a relief – definitely as a relief to the government) the World Cup has arrived to distract Ethiopians from their nation’s troubles. Which brings me to something that’s been on my mind throughout this tournament:

Can the media please stop with the World Cup promotes peace, is a symbol of more perfect path of globalization, and/or is a sign that we are all coming together on equal ground? The only thing that the World Cup surely promotes is patriarchy, hooliganism, and Budweiser (did you here about the Dutch fans who had to watch a game in their underwear because of their Bavaria pants? Beyond Kafka…). All this crap about Ghana’s defeat of the US as a sign that the superpowers are beginning to crumble is ridiculous and is trivial consolation for what the current world order is really doing to the nations at the bottom.

Events on the actual field of play have been no more promising either. Throughout this trip I’ve attempted to promote soccer as a sport that more Americans should learn to appreciate. This tournament has done nothing to help my cause, consisting mostly (well, definitely after the group-stage) of abysmall officiating and pathetic play-acting by players; boring play and a lack of star power; and anti-climatic endings. Some may say that the tournament has at least been unpredictable, but then again we might be on our way to the France – Germany final I predicted…

Rainy Season

[Finally the internets are cooperating. Oh yeah, that's because I'm back in the US. 4 flights, 3 continents, and 27 hours of travel - and most of that was in the air, literally sprinting around Heathrow and JFK to make connections. Working on unpacking my bag and my brain; here are some posts I had written but was unable to post from Addis. Just pretend I'm still there]

Ah Addis, the Paris of East of Africa. Serious crookednecks at work with people’s perceptions of Ethiopia: anyone who gave ‘the price of a cup of coffee’ to Suzanne Summers in the 80s for starving children would probably be appalled at the (literally) thousands of cafes that those children could have chosen from to redeem the donation. Seriously, Addis is apparently the exception to the 40% restaurant failure rule. All of my favorites have survived these three years and pretty much every other door on every street is still a café entrance. And the coffee is still amazing.

It’s rainy season as well and the clouds are guaranteed to roll in by noon with the downpour scheduled for approximately 3:15. Maybe the weather contributes to the success of the cafes, where no one is eager to leave their coffee and pastry for the muddy streets or jobs that I’m not sure many are attending to anyways. So, I’ve been doing a lot of reading, meeting with friends, and taking years off my life through caffeine and sugar overdoses.

For my first few days here I was staying with my friend Rick Hodes and his family of over a dozen (I’m really not sure how many) boys he has adopted in order to provide them with medical care in the US and a better life in general here in Addis. Many of these kids have survived incredible illnesses, malnutrition, and/or abandonment and there are a few currently undergoing treatments that Rick or other docs he works with are providing. A common affliction among them is spinal tuberculosis, for which Rick sends them to the US or Ghana for a surgery or a series of surgeries to straighten their spines, which are severely contorted by the virus. I taught a few of his kids when I was here in 2003 and it’s amazing to see how they’ve grown. This is a crew that really eat up life; they’re constantly reading and engaging everyone around them in conversation that’s more on the level of a US college student and not a pubescent kid speaking their second or third language.

I’ve also been catching up on other kids I taught; visiting the old school, Gibson Youth Academy, which has seriously expanded in my absence; and sharing café space with former colleagues and friends.

I’m now staying with a friend, Daniel, who use to live at Rick’s house and is now married to an American woman. I’m a block from the place I lived at in 2003, so it’s all very cathartic but great.

I’ll be attending the annual closing-day ceremony for the Gibson School and will have plenty of pictures of the kids. Uploading one at a time seems to be doable here, so it’ll be slow. There’s also plenty beyond the cafes and kids here that has changed, and I’m working on articulating the political evolutions I’m observing here.

Attended the annual Closing Day Ceremony for GYA, my old school. Lots of pictures of the kids up on the flickr site.

Blog Bus Takes Flight

An extended vacation from the blog leaves me with two more stamps in the passport and a lot to catch up on. I haven’t been feeling particularly eloquent lately, so I wanted to hyperlink to lots of pictures to compensate for the otherwise perfunctory prose below, but the internets aren’t cooperating w/ any uploading to flickr right now. I’m just glad I was finally able to access blogger. Last post was June 14th, so I’m just gonna start there:


My last couple days of work were spent ‘in the field’ observing one of the agricultural forums organized by the NGO that I was evaluating. Getting to the field should be much easier in a country that’s 90% rural: I got on a bus to leave Kampala at 7:30 am…the bus left Kampala at 10 am…on the bus ride, I received a text message from someone I work with that read: “when you arrive in Mbarrara take a motorcycle to the hospital and get in a small car there to Rubindi”…I arrived in Mbarrara at 1pm…no one knew where the hospital was…I managed to find a car going to Rubindi, we left when the small 4 door sedan was filled with 9 people, including the driver who is always a little guy so that he can sit on someone’s lap while he drives…on the way to Rubindi I received a text message that read: “When you arrive in Rubindi a man on a motorcycle will hand you a note, he knows where we are”…I waited in Rubindi for 20 minutes, but no motorcycle, no note…finally I received another text message: “An elderly gentlemen on a motorcycle wearing a blue shirt will come to pick you up”…such a gentleman finally arrived and he said “Andrew, we’ve been waiting for you.”

This was Mr. Biangile. He owns the farm that was hosting the forum, where the organization mobilizes local farmers to meet and discuss best practice agriculture techniques and methods. I rode on the back of his motorcycle over steep dirt roads to the top of the highest hill above the town. Gathered there were about 25 people, sitting on chairs beneath a tree – the forum could finally begin. This specific forum was focused on cattle rearing and it was really interesting to see the wealth of local knowledge that these farmers possessed and to listen to them discuss and refine that knowledge. The organization will then disseminate these techniques throughout the community and to other regions using ICTs and will use it to improve the practices of female farmers in particular. It was definitely worth the long and intriguing journey.

As the sun was setting and I returned to Rubindi on the back of Mr. Biangile’s motorcycle, another driver pulled up and handed me a note before speeding quickly away, it read: “Andrew, go with this man he knows where we are.”

I returned to Kampala for a final weekend in the city and a final taste of Kampala’s cuisine with some of the best Indian food I’ve ever had. A good way to end things in a city that treated me quite well and rivals Addis Ababa for my favorite African cities thanks to its friendly atmosphere and easy urban living. The US even came through with that well-played but intense draw against Italy. This match pleased me most because I was confident that once we were knocked out, there would at least be a team to cheer against for the rest of the tournament.




I spent 6 weeks in total in Uganda, a country I hadn’t even planned to visit initially. I had planned to spend at least that much time in Kenya, staying with my friend Pete and hopefully working with his NGO, Family Preservation International, but it got bumped because of the opportunity with Bridges in Kampala and I’ve been emailing Pete once a week for the last two months, basically saying: “Don’t worry, I’m coming, but not ‘till next week.”

That week finally came and it was great to see Pete and great to be in Kenya. He’s been working in Eldoret for the last three years, running a microfinance project for people undergoing ARV treatment for HIV/Aids. He’s finishing up his work with that project and will be going to school in Boston next year as well. I had some work to finish up myself, so my first couple days in Eldoret were spent sitting in Pete’s yard with my laptop.

After a few days, my friend Elin came to visit and renew her Ugandan Visa. For a day trip, Pete recommended we take a minibus to the Nandi Hills, home of his girlfriend Nelly (also an excellent host), former Kenyan president Moi, and an endless carpet of tea. I never imagined tea plants would be so beautiful, but in the heart of Kenyan tea country its just rolling hills of the iridescent green leaves. We hiked around the hills and eventually arrived at the Nandi tea estates, got a tour of the factory and some really cheap tea.

Next day we visited Nelly at Moi Hospital in Eldoret where she works as a nurse in a ward that cares for infants and children who have been abandoned or whose parents have died. Got to hang out with the kids, tried to take one home, but was busted by security. Then it was on to the Imani Workshop, one of Pete’s projects where women with HIV produce local crafts that are sold in order to build their income before they begin receiving micro-credit loans. Stocked up on plenty of gifts to go with the small Kenyan child I’ll be bringing home.

Finished up a week in Eldoret that was extremely refreshing – returned me to an old friend and to the country side. One downside of Kampala: tons of pollution. A week in the Kenyan hills and I feel like I’m learning how to breath again. Back to the bus and the cities though: Eldoret to Nairobi to Addis Ababa.


The bus trip from Eldoret to Nairobi is a bit like riding in the tin-can that’s attached to a newlyweds’ car. This is a well-traveled road, but perhaps a bit too well traveled and the Kenyan government apparently can’t keep up with the repairs. The only thing that redeems this 7-hour ride is that it takes you from top to bottom of the Rift valley and offers exceptional views. The Rift Valley is a bit hard to describe because it’s really a giant region that has no discernable entry and exit points. But you don’t have to be a geologist to realize that when you’re in it, you’re in a place that was absolutely brutalized by tectonic activity. What’s left today, however, is much more beautiful than brutal.

The bus climbed high above the Rift coming out of Eldoret and it got cold…snow-on-the-ground-cold…that’s right, there were icy chunks of dirty snow surviving into the late afternoon at the highest points above the valley. That didn’t stop the guy in front of me from opening his window just to make sure I knew how cold it was on the mountain tops and just how much it was raining in the valley. When we finally reached the floor of the valley, the roads didn’t improve, in fact it was straight up off-roading through the savannah…in a bus…a bus that was probably manufactured in the 1960s: the rattle of the aluminum roof is so loud you can’t hear the music from your headphones, your seat is shaking so much you can’t read, and the whole experience is so terrifying that you can’t sleep.

I had no problem passing out once I finally arrived in Nairobi though. I didn’t even spend 12 hours in the city because it was time to fly. That’s right, cheating on the blogbus with an aeroplane. Time constraints and concerns with the Kenya-Ethiopia border forced me out of the bus and into the air. I had set out to complete this trip over land, but…well…you see…the flight was really nice. It was also nice to be reminded of the pleasures that I thought were restricted to the road: The Kenyan Airports Authority security screeners apparently stumbled upon my wallet in my checked-bag. When I arrived in Addis Ababa all the cash was missing – about $0.14. I had been collecting some small bills from a few countries and keeping them in this wallet. I’m not sure if the airport employees were deceived by the large dollar amounts on Zimbabwe’s currency, but I’m down a few souvenirs.

It’s pretty unreal to be back in Addis, where I lived and worked for six months in 2003. I’ll be here for two weeks - the last two of the trip. Hopefully will be able to get some pictures up soon, but expect some major updates to both sites once the blogbus returns to its final destination.

The Need For Maps and Guides

Took care of some blog-up-keep today. There are more pictures up and please note the two new links in my Africa Blogs and News roll: CIPESA and I-Network These are two organizations that I currently share an office with and both do great work in the ICT/Africa sector.

Spent yesterday morning at a Bridges.org workshop that focused on how development organizations can better utilize mapping resources and technologies. It was led by Sean, from Bridges, who has been here all week. Nice to have another American around, especially one from DC – he managed to bring a lot of my memories with him.

I only got to see about an hour of Sean’s presentation, but he did a great job of introducing and explaining the Map Library, which I’ve been having fun exploring ever since. The Map Library offers basic maps that African orgs who can’t afford GIS tools could use. Sean’s presentation and Bridges work in this sector are also designed to inform these orgs of other cheap, easy mapping resources that can be powerful development tools.

I mean, essentially every development project starts with a map, right? Whether it’s HIV infection rates in a region, location of bore-holes in a village, or breakdown of a nation’s ICT access, maps are vital to the ways in which we identify where development is needed and how it should proceed. Yet most, probably all, NGOs do not utilize maps and the related technologies nearly enough because they’re expensive and, despite their importance, require a relatively niche skill-set. Sean and Bridges hope to get small orgs utilizing affordable mapping technologies and to study which ones work and, more generally, how much the use of maps could help these organizations.

I’m wrapping up my work here, as my Guide is nearly complete. What it really lacks is a title. I’ve been writing Guide in italics for a while now…pretty vague huh? I go into the field to visit a forum of farmers who are participating in the project tomorrow. Will provide a more comprehensive look at what I’m doing later in the week. Maybe even a title for it. For now, here’s the website for the project, which I didn’t include in my previous summary of the work.

Tags: ICT Africa; Africa Development

On Winning The Cold War But Losing 3 - 0

I’m not a funny guy, but one joke that has done well during my travels is the one where I name the characteristics of Americans that have helped make us the world’s lone super-power: “we’re humble, passive, non-violent, open to alternative beliefs, have a propensity for multilateralism, and we’re definitely not arrogant.” Something to that effect and it’s funny because it’s not true. Well, not entirely. For some of us it may actually be true, and for most of us who spend time abroad, you really can’t afford to be too much of an American. That is, to be the complete opposite character of the joke.

Unfortunately, the cosmopolitan, humble, passive American is the picture of the US soccer team. These are probably some of our most worldly athletes – lots of time abroad and half the team plays in Europe for 6 months of the year. From a young age, our elite soccer players are taught that the rest of the world does their job best; that they are playing a second-rate version of a sport that is, domestically, not even second-rate. I can’t think of too many professions where Americans suffer from such a stigma. Just how much our soccer players suffer was on display last night as they were basically pushed around for 90 minutes by a team that was entirely more confident that they belonged at the tournament and were destined to excel at it. The biggest problem with that is that it’s what we’re usually best at.

With that in mind, I’m going to have to advocate for sending only NBA players or high-ranking Republicans to South Africa in 2010. Let the mild-mannered cosmopolitan boys get us there through the qualifiers, but when it comes to the world stage we should only be represented by Allen Iverson, Ron Artest, or Condoleza Rice. C’mon, Condi could’ve willed in at least one goal against the Czech Republic.

Tags: World Cup; NBA

This Weeks 'Relatively Democratic Medium With Low Barriers To Entry'

Bid a sad farewell the other day to what could be my final Hostel of the trip. I moved out of the backpackers and am actually living in a proper apartment for my last week here. I have a beautiful balcony above a restaurant called The LaFontaine. My view isn't exactly Paris in the spring, but it's nice and I'm loving being able to cook my own meals, even if it's in the dark, over a parafin stove during a power-outage.

Thought I'd get some News and Links out there to start fresh for this week back in Kampala:


Bloggers are not journalists so they don't have to pay millions of dollars for pictures of your children AND they get to doodle on the pictures of your children once they have "stolen" them from People who paid millions of dollars for pictures of your children. [NY Times]

However, bloggers should be wondering just how wide their digital trail is. I for one will surely regret that photo-session with the models and the sports car. [NY Times]

Ohmynews.com is hosting a big Citizen Journalists workshop this summer. Don't let that word fool you, OhMyNews is fueled by people who are definitely NOT JOURNALISTS and that's why the staff here at I Am Not A Journalist loves them.

Tag: I Am Not A Journalist


-This is old and only a little bit interesting, but at least it's about Uganda. More importantly it reminded me of a story:

My friend Adam is an English gap-year student interning at Uganda's state-owned paper, The New Vision. He said he was at a local court-house to cover a trial of a former government big-man. As the guy was being brought into court, Adam's photographer attempted to take his picture and the man said very calmly: "I'm gonna break that camera and beat the shit out of you." He then strolled into the courtroom, where journalists aren't allowed.

The camera man imediately got on the phone to his office and started relaying what had just happened. Ten minutes later, a New Vision van pulls up, and about a dozen photographers wearing Fast-Orange blazers get out. When the Big Man leaves the court room, they bum-rush him in a wave of flash bulbs, circle him while taking hundreds of shots, utterly confuse him (and stunned Adam), and then make their way just as quickly back into the van and speed off.

I've dubbed this a Ugandan Fire Drill.


More news actually related to Uganda:
The incumbent telecom provider decided to help me out with my upload speed and other companies might follow suit. You may have to scroll down a bit to read this article - Balancing Act is a great site, but why no permalinks?

Tags: Uganda; ICT Infrastructure


More Tech News:
Wired.com reviews Google Spreadsheets and comes to the mind-blowing conclusion that "If they set out to build a basic, easy-to-use spreadsheet tool that runs in the browser, then they succeeded." Until Today expands a bit on that for those of us easy-to-users.

Tech News

-Something I actually had to google today: "When Is Father's Day?"
No really Dad, you can totally expect a gift in the mail...



-"Thanks to technology, the Internet will always be a relatively democratic medium with low barriers to entry." That's from today's lead editorial in the Pollyanna - I mean - Washinton Post.
I'm not saying the folks at actforchange.com have it completely right either:

As the Internet grows, it's not surprising that the big corporations want to seize control, discriminate against people with alternative viewpoints, favor certain types of content, and set up tollbooths wherever they can.

Without network neutrality, AT&T, Verizon and others will be free to slow down or block emails and Web sites they don't like -- effectively silencing the voices of their critics and of people who don't share their politics.

[Holy Shit! I haven't paid my Verizon bill in months - I'm sure they don't like me and now they can really do something about it...] But I do think some legislated neutrality would be a good pre-measure towards preserving some of the values of the Internet that we saw TV lose over time.

Tag: ICT Infrastructure


World Cup News:
Some of this is really funny but most of it is not. If you've read DJ Gallo before you know why...because DJ Gallo wrote it.

My WC Predictions:
Abridged version of this in some comments I posted this morning, but I went home and found the original predictions [Oh yeah, I now live about 20 meters from where I work] I had circled in the paper and also realized that my matchups do in fact work out for the later rounds acording to the fixtures. So, you can say this is a little late, but I think the Sweden prediction is proof enough that I made these before the tournament began:

Advancing to the round of 16:

Germany; Equador
Sweden; England
Argentina; Netherlands
Mexico; Portugal
Italy; USA
Brazil; Australia
France; South Korea
Spain; Tunisia

To the round of 8:

Germany
Portugal
Sweden
Mexico
Australia
France
Brazil
Spain

The Quarters:

Germany over Portugal [will be the first time team to even challenge the Germans]

Mexico over Sweden [Things just worked out well for Mexico this WC huh? Who does Bruce Arena have to sleep with to get that kind of draw?]

France over Australia [I don't know why I like the Aussies, but I know I like the French because they're really good and I don't think anyone was paying attention to the way they simply destroyed teams in the warm-ups]

Brazil over Spain [However, this will be Brazil's second win that goes into 'golden-goal' time or to shoot-out. In fact, I'm betting on some devastating story of the USA being up a goal with less than ten minutes to go in the previous round]


Semis:

Germany over Mexico [But they get pushed again and I think the injuries to the home-town team will be mounting at this point]

France over Brazil [Brazil is unable to get silly in the midfield and can't finish and France gets at least one goal from a set-piece]

Finals:

France over Germany [A clinical dismantling]


In the US of A:

Even lesser-matches will get a better TV rating than the Stanley Cup, but the average American

1. Still won't care about soccer
2. Will continue to believe that most of the events described in the bible probably happened
3. Will utterly dissapoint me when they enter the voting booth for the mid-term elections

A comprehensive-unifying theory for the above phenomena is not even called for at this point.


Tag: World Cup

I've Got A Fever...And The Only Cure Is...

Ok, back from a long break from everything: Kampala, work, internets, and good health.

About two weeks ago I went, with the crew of other foreigners who are here for an extended stay, to secure Gorilla permits so that we could see the famous mountain gorillas. These are the Diane Fossey, Gorillas in The Mist gorillas. There are about 700 alive in the world, about half are in Uganda. The permit date we were able to secure: 06/06/06. The cost: 666,000 Ugandan Shillings (this is a lot of money in any currency, but let’s just say I’ve never left the bank with so much anxiety having to carry this on minibuses across town to the Ugandan Wildlife Authority).

I was pretty sure all these sixes were a good omen. I’m just that type of guy. Then I got malaria the day before we were suppose to see the gorillas…

Ok, basically everyone here has some level/form of malaria. Minor headaches and fevers come and go, but we’re all on medication and the common, less-resistant varieties can be held in check. After two days on dusty, polluted buses though, I found myself in a hotel room in Kisoro – near the Democratic Republic of the Congo border – with a nasty fever and the beginnings of some minor delusions that I was worried could be a nasty more-resistant variety of malaria. It was late anyway and I decided to self-medicate by taking an extra dose of medication. It worked and the fever broke overnight – I woke up literally soaking wet, a little delirious from a hectic night of dreams I’d rather not talk about.

Two hours stuffed in the back of a tiny private car chugging up mountain roads and I was pretty sure that if I could survive that, I’d be able to hike to the gorillas. The sun rose on 6/6/6 and we had beautiful views of the Virunga volcanic range that borders the DRC and took in the sights of the lush farm land that lines the mountain sides in steppes. I told the guide about my condition and he recommended I keep my distance from the gorillas, but that it was fine.

We descended down through the farms on the edge of the park (the Bwindie Impenetrable Forest – this is good: “bwindie” means ‘impenetrable.’ It use to be called simply the impenetrable forest national park, but was renamed Bwindie National Park after independence – tourists didn’t seem to like that as much, so they added the ‘impenetrable’ again, effectively naming it the “Impenetrable Impenetrable Forest”) and met up with the trackers. These guys go to the spot where the gorillas were seen the previous day and follow their “scent” and try to find their nests from the night between. Gorilla nests are basically huge brush piles, which they can create practically with the flick of a wrist, that they sleep on top of and basically defecate all around. The gorillas are usually within a half-kilometer from their nests that morning, they make a different nest every night and sometimes the nests can be 10 kilometers apart…that’s 10 kilometers of jungle hiking; thankfully we didn’t have to do any of that.

Just a 15 minute walk from the tracking party and it sounds like someone is trying to drive a bus through the jungle – well, no engine sounds, but definitely grunting. Two gorillas bound past us and I don’t even want to think about getting in the way of one of these things. We follow them to a river where everybody’s hanging out: the family consists of 19 members – three are infants or younger, two are giant silver-back males, one the alpha-male, the other an alpha in waiting. We got to see 8 of them, including two of the babies and the alpha male in waiting, who is actually the largest member of the group.

The Flickr site has some photos and some descriptions, but there’s not much I can say – it was so surreal. You know when you go to sleep at night after being in the ocean and you can still feel like you’re in the waves, but it doesn’t make you feel sick or anything, it just feels nice and nostalgic and it kind of puts you to sleep? The night after, when I closed my eyes I saw images of gorillas everywhere and it gave me the same feeling.

We only got an hour with them, and they’re not easy to photograph because they move a lot and they only let you get close for short periods, but I do have lots of good shots – more to come. I tried to shy away from my camera after the first 10 minutes though, because you really just wanna be still and look at them. They’ll glance over whatever leaf they happen to be eating and stare at you once in a while and it’s completely disarming. They look interested in you, but they also look like they might want to pounce and sever your head just to see if the expression on your face would change. Of course they’re very much habituated to humans and that wouldn’t happen, but the ‘habituation process,’ as I’d learn, takes three years (7 years for this family because of extenuating circumstances) and teams of highly skilled, organized individuals to pull it off. When you realize what it takes to make these animals accessible to humans you can easily understand why it costs so much to visit them.

And that access is problematic, but it does breed conservation. I know I learned a ton from being around those beasts; our guides, guards, and trackers were great too. A great experience that I’m very thankful I was able to participate in.

That said, my fever returned on the hike up, but I could tell it wasn’t malaria this time. By late afternoon, back in the car and consumed by dust, I was pretty sure I was being hit with the flu. We did make it to Lake Bunyoni by night fall and spent a beautiful two nights at a small hotel there, but I woke up the next day on that lake sicker than I’ve been in years. Been pretty miserable for the three days since, but am on the mend now and will even enjoy my first beer in a week while watching the England soccer match this afternoon.

The gorillas are the only thing keeping me from a jealous rage over those of you who are in Germany right now. Do your part on Monday.

I Want Real Africa

Continuing with my tour of Kampala’s cuisine, I dined at a small downtown restaurant the other night and ate Ugandan food. My experience was in line with similar outings at ‘local-joints’ eating ‘African food’ for a number of reasons:

1. The menu is only meant to stimulate some ideas. You’ll become aware of what’s actually in the kitchen after your first attempt to order. I was forced to eat Beef with Posho (Maize-based, polenta-like starch), Matooke (Basically a Fried Banana mash), and Cassava (Sauteed Root Vegetable); but wanted Chicken with Ebinyebwa (Groundnut-based sauce) Posho, Rice, and Sweet Potatoes.

2. Something utterly strange happened: A lizard (or something, I only saw a flash of green) fell from the ceiling, just missed my plate, landed briefly on my foot and darted away.

3. I had to endure a “bad stomach” the next day (this phrase and the symptoms it describes are as common as a headache in East Africa).

Wasn’t all that bad though.

However, this reminded me of the “I Want Real Africa” tourists I met in South Africa. These folks would pay ridiculous sums to have an authentic African experience and they would spend weeks eating Capetown’s brilliant cuisine, enjoying Jo’burgs nightlife, and the beaches along the Garden Route and say “this place isn’t Africa.” Well, actually it is. And my experience with the ‘bad stomach’ is no more African than my meal at the Indian Restaurant the night before.

My friend Pat said something really interesting to me in Swaziland about the situation in Zimbabwe and the turn she felt the nation could potentially take – initiated by the expulsion of the Rhodesian farmers: “We don’t want whites…but we don’t want blacks either…we definitely don’t want people who are only going to see in black and white…we want Africans.” “Whites” are obviously those who are on their way out of places like Zim. I think those who “see in Black and White” are the “I Want Real Africa” folks. Africans are people who want to contribute to this continent, to make their way, and achieve their desired livelihood without oppressing that of others. Those are the people who make communities and experiences African. Northerners cannot afford to compartmentalize Africa into an underdeveloped, exoticized, slum. Africa is becoming Modern and is redefining what it means to be Modern, which has a lot more to do with liberation and compassion than it does with exoticism and a restaurant free of lizards.

Similar issues came up last night (ate at a mediocre pizzeria) when a table of Northerners were discussing colonialism. It was an absurd yet extremely common discussion: “Colonialism in Uganda: Good or Bad?” Actually, we also reviewed India, Ethiopia, and Tanzania in the same context. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard “well, at least the Brits provided a good infrastructure” (always leaving out, “for the people they otherwise savaged”). Now, I didn’t throw anything last night, but my position was basically “what’s the point of the question?”

The response was that it’s “valuable to ask Ugandans today how they feel about colonialism” and my British friend reported that the overall response was positive (lots of jokes went on here too: “Colonialism received warm reviews on opening weekend…”). Again, this is compartmentalization: to look at colonialism through such a narrow lens that you ask a few people, judge by a few paved roads, and maybe look at a nations GDP (I met another guy who did just that in order to compare former French to former British colonies in order to determine who treated them best when they were there). As if Colonialism didn’t span multiple generations? As if those who survived it and their offspring may not have been incentivised/conditioned to support it? As if there were not a myriad of historical forces at work that determined how brutal an imperial regime would be in a specific region?

And underlying all this is the basic assumption that these nations would not be where they are were in not for the “spoils” of colonialism. This will get long and boring if I go any further, but the point I tried to convey last night is that it’s much more productive to constantly interrogate colonialism rather than stop time and ask what people think of it. Or fine, ask people what they think, but continue to interrogate their response based on their historical experience with colonialism. Colonialism is not an era, it’s an act. An ongoing act and an act that began long before the first fair-skin folk returned to Africa. Why confuse ourselves and even think for a second that there’s any good in that act?

I think people who fetishize over globalization have fallen into this same trap. Globalization is no more recent a phenomenon than colonialism and it cannot be compartmentalized into the computer age. Granted, globalization is a little more broad than colonialism, but I think it’s effective to view colonialism as one of many manifestations of globalization. Is globalization good or bad? Well, people all over the world interacting and improving each others’ lives through economic and intellectual exchange is not bad, no. But it’s not hard to fuck up a thing that good.

Ok, I may be getting boring, but I’m not bored. Going to a wedding tomorrow morning and joining the festivities for Martyr’s Day in the afternoon (celebrates Ugandan Christians who were executed by a former king in conflict with missionaries). Then I will leave for Kabale – a town about 8 hours SouthEast of here – on Sunday and will be trekking to see gorillas on Tuesday in Bwindi National Park. I promise to take lots of pictures but can’t promise when you’ll get to see them.

Some Sprinkles, Tastes, and Other Ramblings

The rain has returned in buckets. The mosquitoes woke me up last night - I meet a disproportionate number of foreigners who have had malaria in Uganda compared to other East African Nations and my mosquito-net and repellent seem to be less effective every night, not psyched - and when I was coming back from the bathroom I noticed that it was particularly warm for 4am. I went out onto my balcony and the air was so electrified that I was convinced I could cause a spark by snapping my fingers. By 7 it was pouring and the surge on the tin roof won't let you sleep.

Another one of those things I never thought one could necessarily be good at: living with the rain. Again, I'm not good at it and never will be. Granted, I've never seen rain like this, but it's worse than snow in upstate New York in a lot of ways and that's why I feel justified with a one-hour delay for work. Besides, I need to give it some time to dry otherwise I look like I literally crawled to get there. Meanwhile, Ugandans will slosh around wearing all white at the height of the storm and look like they just pulled the clothes from the dryer when they get to work. I, on the other-hand, can't even wear flip-flops anymore because the ass of my pants always looks like I was riding a dirt-bike through puddles.

With the exception of the occasional violent monsoon, I'm pretty resigned to a quiet routine here now. I can feel home and school and to-do lists approaching and my desire for adventure is tempered a little bit by all of it. I'm quite ok with this, Kampala is a nice town to settle-down in. I'm basically into trying out different bars and restaurants and seeing the sights in and around the city. It's kind of like living in DC; the bars and restaurants even compete. Have made a tradition of a different Indian restaurant for Sunday night curry and had a stellar Palak Paneer the other night. There's an amazing French cafe that just opened up by my work where I had a poached Talapia in a dill-cream sauce for lunch yesterday. Tilapia is basically the only decent fish I've had in land-locked African nations, but it's particularly good here as it's coming straight from the Nile or Lake Victoria. Grilled whole Tilapia is amazing too, we even had a barbeque at the Hostel last Friday, which seemed like the first time I've cooked in decades. Have also enjoyed more than a few Chinese restaurants, a decent Thai place, some Lebanese, and will try some Ethiopian soon too (though that will only be an appetizer for my two weeks in Addis).

Street-food here is amazing. Indian style Chapattis and Samosas are huge. For a breakfast treat, they roll up an egg and vegetables in a chapatti - dubbed a Rolex (I like to think it came from "Roll-Eggs" but have no proof). There are also tons of cakes and funky chips and assorted nuts that are great snacks. And the cassava root is really good too. They grow tons of it here, but don't export it. It's a basic fried street food or sautéed as a side with meet. Liver, Goat, and Chicken are biggest here.

Ok, getting hungry and need some dinner. I know it would be really nice to have some pictures to accompany these descriptions...well, there's a couple new ones up now...I don't wanna talk about it...just know that those two took me a while.

I also added some new minibus names, you can check that out.

Holiday News

I could almost smell the barbeques yesterday as I longed for Memorial Day weekend. Really a wonderful time of year. Last Thursday should have been a big holiday too: it was African Liberation Day, or Africa Day. Honestly, I had no idea. Learned a lot this morning though, thanks to related articles in Pambuzka, particularly one I’d like to publish in this space. I apologize for bringing anyone down from barbeque-bliss:

AFRICA DAY: WHO SAYS SLAVERY IS DEAD?

Tajudeen Abdul-Raheem

In flight to Nigeria, Tajudeen Abdul-Raheem encounters a howling young man being deported from the United Kingdom. How is it that the youth of African countries will do anything to leave their place of birth and slave away in poorly paid jobs in rich countries? What kind of societies are being constructed in African countries when remittances act as the only method of survival for whole communities?


Today is Africa Day and I wish to share a very painful story with you.

One has heard or read many horror stories about detentions, forceful removals, and deportation of Africans accused of being 'illegal immigrants' or failed asylum-seekers, almost always from one European country or the other. Most people are not likely to encounter this directly. In February this year I came face to face with the inhuman way it is done.

I was traveling to Nigeria with a former radical lecturer, mentor to several generations of Nigerian students and intellectuals, Dr Patrick Wilmot. In 1988 he was kidnapped by security officials of the IBB regime (government of Ibrahim Babangida) and forcibly removed from Nigeria, a country in which he had lived in for almost 2 decades and despite the fact that he was and still is married to a Nigerian.

Wilmot's 'crime' was allegedly, 'teaching what he was not paid to teach'! Wilmot is of Jamaican origin but has lived longer in Nigeria than in Jamaica and is better known to Nigerians and considered 'one of us' by many. Yet in one night the military government yanked him away from his family and academic community and landed him in the United Kingdom, a country in which he had never lived in before and had nothing but a painful historical link of slavery and colonialism. Britain finally gave him legal residence and later citizenship and London has remained his home since 1988.

In spite of fears and anxiety by friends and colleagues unsure about the selective efficiency of the African state when it comes to real and imagined 'enemies', Wilmot was happy to be returning to a country from which he was deported. I was never officially deported from Nigeria but have become expert at being 'prevented to leave or enter the country' throughout the military regime and even under the current 'democratic' order. My traveling with Wilmot was both a personal and political assurance that we could face any trouble together and tough it out.

From checking in and boarding you know you are Nigeria-bound and in many ways feel like you are already in the country. As loud as Nigerians are infamous for, that evening there was an unusual noise coming from the back of the plane, distinct from the racket of voices around. The voice grew more disquieting as we sat so I went to check in the next cabin.

At the back of the plane was a young Nigerian man, definitely not more than 25 years old, sandwiched between two bully-built white British police/immigration officers and handcuffed to both of them. I made enquiries from the airhostesses since my initial attempt to talk to the man's captives was rebuffed. The hostess casually informed me that it was nothing unusual, that these things happen fairly regularly, that the man was being 'removed' and assured me that his noise would reduce as soon as the flight settled.

Meanwhile, the removal police were trying their best to calm down the howling young man as they would 'calm' an aggressive dog or cat. On his part he was just crying, howling, swearing, and whining like a trapped animal. It was so dehumanizing and I felt humiliated for him and for Africa. Even sadder still was the general indifference of most of the other largely Nigerian passengers. Many of them have become inured to this kind of routine humiliation of fellow citizens. One even advised the whaling young man to 'shut up and try again when you get home'.

Here was Dr Wilmot, happy to return to a country from which he was unceremoniously thrown out, on the same flight with a young man being unceremoniously returned home. One got the impression that if he was left unshackled he could attempt jumping out of the plane. He wanted to be anywhere but home.

How bad can it be that a young man who should have his whole life ahead of him should be so frightened of going back home? What kind of society have we created where our young people see no hope in remaining in Africa and would do anything to leave it? We are even beginning to valorize poor jobs, bad pay and immigrant insecurity by gleefully talking these days about how important 'remittances' are to the welfare of Africans trapped in poverty at home. This actually makes it imperative for many young people to devise even more desperate means to opt out of Africa in order to become Western-Union life-savers to their families. Some countries are now even trying to launder that exploitation as part of Overseas Development Assistant (ODA)! And some of our own organizations in the name of Diaspora initiatives are directly or indirectly offering justification for this by only looking at the 'contribution' that remittance is playing instead of the wider conditions and the long term negative impact of whole communities dependent on handouts.

We do not tell the truth about the degradation, racism and exploitation that most of our people suffer in those 'shitty jobs', 'early morning and late night' that makes our peoples the last to go to sleep and the first to wake up!

These horror stories about immigration are repeated everyday across Africa and the world. Some of our own governments, despite being responsible for the economic and political conditions that are making many Africans leave home, even connive in the routine humiliation in their forcible return from different countries in Europe. Some of them are willing to accept payments from European countries in exchange for taking fellow Africans (not necessarily their citizens) that are deported from Europe.

Who says slavery is dead? This is official people trafficking by any other name and it is done with impunity by countries who have signed all kinds of international conventions allegedly protecting human rights. The same countries that are forcing us to globalize, open up our economies and markets, but are unwilling to open up their markets for our goods and our labour.

In spite of the humiliations many more people from across this continent will do anything to get a visa to go to the West and if that fails, anywhere else but Africa. Many years ago I had written about this phenomenon and suggested then that were a slave ship, properly labeled, to appear in any port city in Africa, people would rush into it proclaiming that they were fit to be slaves! It is worse today; we are in many ways financing our way into slavery both at home and globally.

As if the bad treatment from others was not enough, intra African trade and free movement of peoples are denied through branding of fellow Africans as 'aliens', 'foreigners', 'non indigenes' and 'settlers' even inside the same country. Pan Africanist entrepreneurs delivering goods and services to African people as when and where needed are criminalized as 'smugglers'.

They say Rome was not built in a day.

Today being Africa Day, we need to ask ourselves: if Romans were not there who would have built Rome? You need to ask yourself whether by your action or inaction you are part of the problem or part of the solution.

Happy Africa Day!

* Dr Tajudeen Abdul-Raheem is General-Secretary of the Pan African Movement, Kampala (Uganda) and Co-Director of Justice Africa

I reprinted some work by Dr. Abdul-Raheem a few weeks ago as well, really like him. The offices for the Pan African Movement in Kampala are just a short walk from my office too, which is pretty cool.

Here’s a related article from L. Muthoni Wanyeki in The East African:

Two things happened last week in Europe that should make us take a long, hard look at ourselves. Ayaan Hirsi Ali, the Somali-born Dutch legislator, was stripped of her Dutch citizenship after revelations that she had lied on her asylum application. And the French passed into law a new immigration Bill.

My instinctive reaction to the news about Ali was anger. For, in the face of ever more restrictive laws and policies on asylum seeking and migration in recipient countries, it is honestly not surprising that would-be asylum seekers and migrants lie to get where they need (or want) to go.

My office often receives requests from African women seeking asylum on the basis of their fear of women’s human-rights violations in their home countries. Regardless of my personal opinion as to the validity of their individual claims, I always supply the background information on the situation regarding women’s human rights to support their applications. For it is not for me to determine whether an African woman should stay on the continent if she does not want to.

Yes, some are clearly lying. I remember one request, for example, from the leader of a well-known musical group here who told me – openly – that his girlfriend wanted to migrate on the basis that she was persecuted here as a lesbian. He thus wanted information on the human-rights violations experienced by Kenyan lesbians. I was amused – but I did what I could to provide leads to the information he needed. After all, it is not as though any colonialist ever applied for asylum or migrant status to settle here. It is inevitable that the colonies are striking back.

Good stuff, please follow the link for the entire piece.

State-side Africaish news from the Washington Post today. Sebastian Mallaby does his best to defend G-Dubs HIV/Aids policy. He makes some valid points, but I think the real impact of shifting the focus to abstinence will not be felt for years. Here in Kampala, some other foreigners and I make it a nearly nightly ritual of comparing the ridiculous “sex counseling” peddled in the local papers. Straight Talk, another organization down the road from my office, plays a major role in this comedy. Interestingly, its run by the wife of the publisher of the government news paper, who happily publishes Straight Talks No-Sex-Education as well. Trust me, there’s nothing straight-forward about what they’re telling Ugandan youth. More on this later, I’d like to see what responses I can find from African AIDS activists.

Another article for the I Am Not A Journalist campaign [Thanks, Heart In Accra], where a court says that bloggers aren’t necessarily journalists but they’ll get the same protections, and bloggers and judges alike basically prove my point that Not Being A Journalist means you can do a journalist's job better. It all holds up, trust me, no need to re-read those long posts again.

Trying to upload some pictures. Check it out, but I’m done with making any promises over Ugandan Internet wires.

Finally, I can only assume that folks are taking to the streets in Mt. Pleasant in reaction to the Raven’s dismissal from one of Fritz’s coveted lists.

Searching

Ok, some pictures finally up. The latest are from Tanzania, was hoping to post more from a day-trip on Sunday to Jinja – a town on Lake Victoria about an hour’s drive from Kampala where you can visit the source of the nile; the spot where the river leaves the lake on its way north – but it might be awhile until I can get those on the web. Uploading is extremely painful here. Turns out, the guys in the office next-door to me are working on a remedy. Well, kind of.

CIPESA (Collaboration on International ICT Policy for East and Southern Africa) is a policy research project of bridges.org focused on analysis of the issues implied by the name, with an aim at creating a body of research and discussion that can better inform African policy-makers. Big issue in their world right now is EASSy – The East African Submarine Cable System. Big issue in my world too, because a connection to EASSy could mean actually uploading from Uganda without wanting to swallow my own tongue.

Because the internet was originally conceived as a way to solely deliver information and not a two-way exchange, uploading is always going to be more difficult, but exponentially so when you don’t have easy access to high bandwidth. And Uganda has none of that. I’m not sure where my words go when they leave this computer, but the path could very well find them traveling first by low-bandwidth, dial-up line into Kampala, then out of Uganda by satellite to Cairo (satellite = slow and expensive), then finding their way back into the ground for a (getting faster) trip across the Mediterranean, and finally reaching