Friday 5 October 2012

How I ended up in Uganda


The very first time I went to Uganda, I wanted to go to Malawi, really. I had been dreaming of Malawi for a long time, seen pictures of that beautiful lake which looks like a sea, heard amazing reports from travellers. I was seeing myself sitting by those golden beaches talking to Malawian mzee about life and the universe, quite naively I must admit. I even wrote my dissertation in Human Geography on Malawi, with the intent of doing research on field. Life had other plans though, like often happens. I had to postpone any travelling arrangements, for a health problem. So I wrote my thesis without going there. About the fight between little Malawi and the huge World Bank on the ongoing discussion "Free Market versus State Intervention", which Malawi won at that time, subsiding their farmers. But that’s another story.

When I could finally travel, it had to be Malawi, but I wanted to find something to do there. Don't like much travelling in Africa as a tourist. After knowing from my Ugandan friend that the word mzungu originally means “someone who roams around aimlessly”, I understood that it is probably why. Ok, searching on the web for something clever to do in Malawi, I saw a picture of this dreamlike place. Didn't have a clue where it was, but it was definitely love at first sight. It didn’t even look like it was part of this world, but in case it was, I had to go there. If I was very lucky it could even have been Malawi. It turned up to be Uganda, region of Kigezi, district of Kabale, Lake Bunyonyi. I found an association there, Edirisa, contacted it and was asked to work on a documentary to promote craftsmaking. Great and clever enough. Got a little camera and went, dying to see that beautiful place. It didn’t let me down. Even if it was hard, at first. Sitting by myself in my hut with just candle light at 8pm - and one match only on the first night -, heavy rain falling on the metal roof, mud all over the outside which made toilet trips out of question, nothing to munch on, and Teddy the dog – sadly not longer with us –barking loudly and excessively at the moon. Not to mention those freaking African dolls sitting on a shelf and staring at me. “Breath”, I was saying to myself!

I breathed. In every possible way. And went back for more.

By Laura Cini

punishmentisland@gmail.com https://www.facebook.com/PunishmentIsland

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