Gregory Forsberg

The lights over Italy are laid out below me, like copper spiderwebs over the darkened landscape. The night turns to day as we approach Nairobi just as the sun hits Kenya.

Nairobi is left behind as morning turns to afternoon, and the red soil of Entebbe is beneath my feet. Cows, horns ceaselessly honking, and the heat. We arrive in Kampala, and stay at the college inn. Within minutes I manage to break the door handle off and
we are moved to another room. The lights in the main room do not work, but the tv and bathroom lights illuminate enough of the room to function. The restaurant below us has a menu, but most of it is not an option. Chicken, beef, goat, chips, irish (potatoes) and rice are all that is available. After lunch I leave on my own to explore and attempt to cross the street. Boura bouras (motorcycles) race along side of traffic. To cross the street you must be
patient and watch the traffic before you make your move. Inside a bakery I attempt to buy a bottle of water, they do not have any so I settle for a bottle of pepsi and a chocolate muffin. Exiting the store I stand by the side of the road waiting to cross when I hear someone shouting behind me. "Hey!" a man in uniform with a rifle shouts at me. He motions for me to come back to the store. Glass bottles, like the one I had in my hand, generally do not leave the store unless the deposit is paid.

Later on Attila and I walk through Kamapala and the change, only a block away from out hotel, is drastic. Store fronts turn to tin roof shacks, some without doors. A small child yells "Mezungu", or outsider.

Back at the hotel night rolls in very quickly, unlike home the sun sets in minutes. The city does not sleep, horns and traffic turn into music and dance that slowly fades back to traffic.

Brendan and I are up early, and attempt to find breakfast. The restaurant is closed, and the hotel clerk is startled awake from his bed under the desk. We are told to wake the doorman underneath the front desk to be let out. The streets are alive with sound, but there is no one out,
no traffic, no lights. The occasional boura drives by, and we enter the only place we can find that is open. A man sleeping on a table wakes up when we enter and rushes back into the kitchen to wake the cooks. They are open, but none of the kitchen appliances are on. Coke's are ordered and breakfast is postponed until something opens later in the day. The doorman is unfortunately awoken again, followed by Attila.

A bicycle carrying endizi.

The view from the College Inn.

The College Inn.

Kenya

Leaving British Columbia.