You know that pack mentality they have in London, well it turns out it exists the world over. You walk into a bar and immediately a sandal clad posse of aid related blondes with big bags eye you suspiciously, positioning themselves between you and any potential hottie like a row of well accessorised vultures. If it weren’t for The Journalist and her caustic commentary, I might be hurt.
That said, this weekend we infiltrated the ‘long termers’ and have made some headway thanks to a plaid shirt, flat cap, wellies and a 6,000 shilling spade – all purchased at Owino much to the amusement of the Ugandans, who stared wide eyed as we shot past on bodas, spade and wellies wedged between bike and thigh.
Weekend prior The Journalist, Salad, Vish and I embarked on a mini road trip to Jinja, where Stanely and Livingston first discovered the source of the Nile. We spent a night on the banks of the Nile, above Bujagali Falls, in a ramshackle cottage that I’m fairly certain only just scraped their health and safety inspection, Salad and I wedged tightly into a double bed, suffering from ping pong giggles.
The Journalist insisted we cruise the Nile on horseback the following day, which at times pleasant, had me braced for impact and/or mauling for two hours straight and suffering from inner thigh ache for three days thereafter. I would really rather have gone in the rubber dingy with the crazy ass Aussies.
And to clarify, Lewd Conduct does not mean the same thing here as it does in the UK. I was not, as suggested by the Fatigue clad Captain, having sex on the side of the road. If I had known a peck on the cheek would prompt eight heavily armed policemen to disembark at speed from a 4×4 I would have opted for a handshake!
Reluctant for the boss to discover his recently appointed Ops Manager had been done for Lewd Conduct outside the office at three in the morning, I strapped on an apologetic smile and submitted to a lecture on appropriate public behaviour. It was sweet of them to offer me an ‘alternative’ to jail, but on principle I insisted they take me to the station and book me.
The Captain took a shine to me, but unfortunately the giver of the peck was less fortunate and eventually forked out 150,000 to avoid the station and his car being impounded – Papa Peck refused to kiss me goodbye the following evening saying it cost too much! What can I say, I’m a classy chick.
In other news …
- Yes the chat house is still going and the cheese soda dosa is still the mutt’s nuts!
- The flat flooded and I had to mop with a bucket and dish cloth – people laughed
- I’m very excited about new job because of all the potential goodies …. oh and because you rock
- Love Richard
- I like Gideon, but then I’m not a civil servant
- Alex Fergason is the coach for Man U (honestly I’m not a complete cretin) and hasn’t Rooney just broken something vital/slept with another prostitute so good riddance?
- I didn’t know Thatcher had a heart, but bless them for looking
- A local newspaper just published a list of prominent gay men in Uganda suggesting they be executed for their sexual orientation – that’s criminal.
- Salad and I went the wrong way around a roundabout on a boda and narrowly missed a 16 wheeler – we both bought helmets.
Love you and let’s skype baby!