So I’ve packed up my life and hopped on a plane, armed with the stereotypical and obligatory – khaki outfits, over-priced The North Face goods, DVDs, hammock, bug killer, mosi net, and gloomy books on globalisation, development and American imperialism. After eight hours struggling to sleep as a delinquent toddler threw screaming and kicking tantrums behind me, we landed in Entebbe on the shores of Lake Victoria surrounded by Uganda’s lush green hills.
Over the course of the past five days I’ve had equally as little sleep due a bed as hard as the floor (in stark contrast to the usual horrendously saggy beds) and a head full of things that need organising, items that need purchasing to set up the office, decisions that need making, and uncertainty about what we’re doing and how we’re going to do it.
Imagine having a list of hundreds of items to find, get prices for and buy or rent. From a car to BIC biros, a safe to a gas stove, office space to candles, a generator to a driver. In a country that which doesn’t price items, has few of the brands we’re all familiar with back home, has few if any online retailers or one stop shops, and isn’t covered by Google, Which? or price comparison websites. And doing so as a white man whose skin colour to many a shopkeeper shouts, “Take me for a ride, I’ll be none the wiser and can probably afford it”. The games you go through just to get a realistic price; it’s tedious. And you just know that after agonising over which choice to make and taking the plunge, you’ll inadvertently find it significantly cheaper in the next shop you walk into. It all conspires to give you a headache.
Over the course of the past five days I’ve had equally as little sleep due a bed as hard as the floor (in stark contrast to the usual horrendously saggy beds) and a head full of things that need organising, items that need purchasing to set up the office, decisions that need making, and uncertainty about what we’re doing and how we’re going to do it.
Imagine having a list of hundreds of items to find, get prices for and buy or rent. From a car to BIC biros, a safe to a gas stove, office space to candles, a generator to a driver. In a country that which doesn’t price items, has few of the brands we’re all familiar with back home, has few if any online retailers or one stop shops, and isn’t covered by Google, Which? or price comparison websites. And doing so as a white man whose skin colour to many a shopkeeper shouts, “Take me for a ride, I’ll be none the wiser and can probably afford it”. The games you go through just to get a realistic price; it’s tedious. And you just know that after agonising over which choice to make and taking the plunge, you’ll inadvertently find it significantly cheaper in the next shop you walk into. It all conspires to give you a headache.
By tomorrow most of the procurement will be done, and I’ll leave the relative comfort, tarmac roads, air conditioning, running water and electricity of Kampala, for the ‘bush’ of Pader. 8 hours and I’ll be in a world away, in a town that is predominantly an IDP camp, setting up an office and temporary home in a couple of sparse guesthouse rooms. Sparse meaning a concrete box with a foam mattress bed, a pit latrine, no running water and a generator in the evenings only. Back to basics.
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