A few observations.

So, I've been in Kampala for over two weeks now. I've settled into a routine, and I thought it might be time for some general observations about Kampala, Uganda, work, and the people here. There isn't going to be much rhyme or reason in this entry -- but I keep having random thoughts throughout the day where I go, "I should remember to put that on my blog," and then I forget. So this is sort of a round-up of all those thoughts. And I took some photos of my new neighborhood over the weekend, so the observations will be punctuated with photos!

First of all: the smell of the city. When I first got here, I honestly thought everyone was smoking marijuana all the time. I realized recently, however, that's it's the garbage. People here burn their garbage, as there's no city service to come around and pick up trash. The smoke is everywhere, and it makes the whole city smell sickly-sweet all the time. The smoke adds to the dust from the unpaved parts of the roads and the pollution from the boda bodas and matatus (minibus taxis) to make for a pulmonary nightmare. I woke up on my second day here horribly congested and unable to breathe, but I've gotten used to it since then. Occasionally a boda or taxi will belch out an especially big burst of exhaust, but it's just part of life here.

[Security: broken glass bottles on top of a wall in my neighborhood.]

Thing the second: Ugandans are incredibly friendly people, but in a somewhat reserved way. Unlike in South Africa, no one is going to start a conversation with you in a taxi about what you're doing in their country. In fact, people generally don't initiate conversations with me at all -- unless "Hello, mzungu, how are you?" as they pass by counts. But I find that any time I smile at someone, they smile back. When I do get into conversations with Ugandans, they want to know how long I've been here, what I'm doing here, how I find it. They are eager to tell me how much I should pay for things, and to warn me that salesmen and taxi conductors are prone to ripping off mzungus. Ugandans are very frank, and they say things like: "you people," "you whites," "people like you," to talk about Americans and Europeans. I found this a little bit offensive at first -- race is such a sensitive topic in South Africa still, no black South African would ever say "you whites." But I've gotten used to it, and I've found that if I keep my ears open, I learn a lot about how Americans in particular are perceived here.

Thing the third: corruption is rampant here. Everyone talks about it. Everyone acknowledges it. I even had a few Ugandans tell me that America should stop giving aid money to the government, and just come to Uganda and the build roads and hospitals ourselves. There is very little faith in the government, and even less in the police. The lack of faith in the police manifests itself in the terrible phenomenon of "mob justice." Since no one believes the police can't be bought, Ugandans display a willingness to take the law into their own hands. It's common knowledge that if a criminal steals a woman's purse, for example, and she calls out, everyone around will turn on the criminal. This usually ends up with the criminal (or, in truly horrific instances of mistaken identity, an innocent bystander) being burnt alive in the street. The police usually arrive too late.

I have decided that if I get mugged here, I am going to keep my mouth shut. I don't want to be responsible for that kind of thing.

 [The street leading to my apartment complex.]

Thing the fourth: there is no way of getting around the city that my mother would be willing to use. This occurred to me this morning. The two main choices are boda bodas or matatus/minibus taxis. The boda bodas are the fastest option, and they can take you anywhere you want to go. On the downside, they're incredibly dangerous and, as I learned the hard way today, don't always understand where you want to go and end up in a completely unknown part of the city. They're also expensive, and really not safe to take at night. The matatus are much cheaper and safer, although sometimes as they go through an especially pot hole-y part of the city, it doesn't feel totally secure. Unfortunately, they don't go everywhere, and you really have to know where you're going to take them. They also get stuck in traffic jams so they take a lot longer than the bodas, despite the drivers' willingness to drive on sidewalks (true story: this happened to me this morning). With both bodas and taxis, there is always a chance of getting ripped off.

[Me, standing where I catch a matatu in the morning.]

Thing the fifth: it's somewhat frustrating to be a lawyer in a country where no one respects the law. I've never appreciated the culture of accountability that we have in the United States as much as I have in the last two weeks. Uganda can have the most progressive, modern Refugees Act, but that isn't going to stop the government from trying to (illegally) force out Rwandan refugees. The Constitution is meaningless when the President can amend it unilaterally to extend term limits and limit individual freedoms. I have so much respect for the NGOs that work hard here to hold governments to account for their actions -- it seems so futile that the people who commit their lives to this kind of work need to have a special kind of passion and determination, the likes of which I've rarely seen. I feel privileged to have the opportunity to observe and learn from them.

That seems like a good note to end on.