Following our noses

After the loooong flights, we finally arrive at Entebbe. Three years ago when we wound down the Entebbe Road to Kampala after the flight, little paraffin lamps lit the roadside stands since there was “load shedding” and it was as dark as Africa is supposed to be. It was our first, strong, impression.

This time, there were street lights here and there, but also the little lanterns, since even when the power is on it’s not very bright. But the thing we will remember about this arrival is the smell of charcoal stoves, that slightly acrid but not unpleasant smell that always says, “You are back, forget your modern ways, this is Uganda.” The smoky smell was like a long-lost friend accompanying us the entire way, getting stronger as we passed by villages, mingling with the smell of roasting maize, sold on the cob from the roadside stands.

We arrived at Salama Springs to find the fridge stocked with water, soft drinks, fruit and bread – thank you, Prossy and Tony! Salama Springs is shabbier (what’s with places with “springs” in the name? We are reminded of Iron Springs …), but this morning our flat filled noisily with old friends, and one new one: Prossy is pregnant!

And early in the morning, from our bed we saw the silhouettes of the monkeys out on the big fig tree – despite the lot next door being almost clear cut for a curious car wash set-up, the tree remains, and its inhabitants were leaping from branch to branch, as in the old days.

So here we are, back "home," a little fuzzy-headed from jet lag, but here nonetheless.