Ramblings of things that catch my ever-shifting attention. Well written? Only by accident. Deep thoughts that will enlighten and inspire? I hope not. A candid, yet often superficial, glimpse of the churning information in my mind? Possibly.
Ok, this is the abridged version of my entry. There once existed a clever and witty version, but it was deleted by someone fooling around with my computer. I don’t remember all that I wrote, nor do I have the energy to go through all that I’d expressed before. I got it out one. It’s out; it’s gone.
I got an email from Nicole not too long ago (however, it has been a while because Nicole has been absent from the net for quite some time) requesting that I post more photos of Uganda and (get this) of me. Well, let’s do this!
I took a day trip last week and went to Kasubi Tombs—former palace, now final resting place for four of the Buganda Kingdom’s past bakabaka (kings). I’d been meaning to get by there for years, but I never got around to it.
It’s quite an interesting place. The tour was not perfect; my tour guide had an aversion to answering questions and a few references to You whites and You people were made. The structure of the building itself is interesting. The brochure referred to it as “a masterpiece of human creativity”. I don’t know if I’d go that far. (Have me over for dinner one evening, and we’ll have a discussion on creativity in Uganda.) It’s practical and not unlike most structures built in Uganda at that time. What is unique is that it has been so well maintained over the years. Go to the tombs in Hoima if you want to see what I’m talking about.
I took my friend Charles to the tombs with me. He’s a Muganda and has lived in Kampala for most of his life, but he’d never visited Kasubi before. I got a kick out of our brilliant tour guide talking to and treating Charles as if he were a foreign tourist.
Is this burning an enternal flame? Why yes, yes it is. The Baganda keep a fire burning as long as the present kabaka is living. When he dies, the flame will be extinguished and a new flame will be lit when a new king ascends the throne.
When we go back to town, we went to lunch at a Lebanese restaurant called, of all things, Cowboys’. It used to be Al Tarboush, but I guess the new owners wanted to go with a more Western-sounding name. You can’t get more western than Cowboys’. The new menu also had some interesting items listed:
Ok, so it’s just a typo, but the Hommos + meat... Well I'm just saying... Depending on your taste... Like it or not, in another place, one might have other expectations than chickpeas and lamb.
And seated just outside the restaurant, directly in front of my table as I’m enjoying my abundant meal is a harsh reminder of reality.