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Monday, August 07, 2006

rain. owsh


Rain could be back in full, this spells groom in the book of unreasonable behaviours of the weather for a city dweller. Okay, in the hot weather, which is also unreasonable. I am bound to fret. Does it really matter, the weather itself doesn't know what it is lately turning into. The University should sooner introduce a Degree course in Unpredictable Weather Studies. Because we need teachers who are going to teach the pupils in primary that Uganda experiences one kind of weather…unpredictable weather... The dry and Wet season are now things of the past, since no one can really tell which is going to be the dry season and which the wet. It’s coming onto September and the sun will be positioned overhead the equator, this means…a little geography stuff here which I have to consult Inno about …and much rain. So this surely, this wet day that turns out wet for the whole length of the day must be it, the rainy season. But Men!

A week ago I was in Sembabule, the first rain that fell there was met with everyone hurrying to the garden to sow maize and other foods. While they are not sure of the rain lasting, they have to hope, considering their beliefs that first rain after a really long dry spell is usually the precedent to bigger rains coming. Well, they could be right. Only, it rains everyday at my place and whenever I get a call from the friends in Sembabule they say the last time the rain fell there was when I was there. The ground there is still patched and their gardens don't show signs of sprouting green life. The people in one village beat up an old woman whom they claimed was frustrating the rain. This old woman apparently has a grown "mutuba" tree, which is evergreen. They claim this 50-year-old tree positioned on a small hill sucks at the rain cloud that gathers over it every other day. Well, this is another interpretation of global warming.

This rain is unnerving in its decision to slither down for more than 3 hours. On Friday it got me to stay in office till 9:00pm and when I finally roused courage to walk through it, the vehicles that would have taken me a short distance to the taxi park, were parked. There was a traffic jam that stretched the whole length of Kampala road. Actually the it stretched from Wandegeya to Jinja road. The drivers claimed they were not working; they had their doors open and were comfortably drinking tea with katogo.

The food women had capitalized on the occasion and were walking around peddling their tea. The newspaper sellers, the umbrella sellers, everything was consumable on this wet lonely car stuck day. Cars were parked off the road, people hang out of their vehicles, engines turned off waiting for the traffic to clear. They reasoned that hanging in the queue was a waste of time and energy…continually sucking out all hope, belting frustration at the sheer inability to even inch for an hour along the road. This day was a day everyone dreamt about that bed that was waiting for them, or the hot cup of coffee they could be gulping now and listening to splackavellie on Sanyu Fm was not appealing.

As it seemed the only logical thing was to walk, walking was bound by certain breaks in traffic, where if you come round and looked onto what was making a crowd grow in a particular place, it turns out to be a large pool of water blocking the road. Here you would find scrawny fellows standing knee deep in the dirty water beckoning anyone who was in such a hurry or maybe desperate to go home to hop onto their back for a  ride. No one was jumping onto the back rides that would cost 300 shillings. No one was desperate enough to fall into the pool on such a wet day, people just stood there chatting eerily. no one suggested how they were going to go past this. once in a while someone would pull up their clothes, shoes held over the head and wade through the murky water, cross the 20 metres stretch then continue on dry land.

 

people stood here cold perhaps entertaining sinister thoughts about the end of the world. Especially when the only possible route home is wading through the thick flow of knee high dirty water. The vehicles never bothered to move any nearer the water. choosing to go back where they came from.interesting how people had resolved to stand and wait for the pool to drift...

 

12:55 Posted in lolling | Permalink | Comments (10) | Email this

Comments

Oh boy, that sounds nasty! I hated rain in cities like Kigali & K'la not because of the traffic jams but the mud that so often messed up one's 'bulinya' and sometimes the slippery ends that sent a smarty flying in air...we simply can't win; when dry its dusty and when it rains the treacherous mud sneakes in.

Posted by: jkb | Thursday, August 10, 2006

On friday I was at Pioneer mall and I wanted to get to steak out for a meeting but when I approached the nearest cab the driver had the audacity to tell me it would cost me 10k (2k than it would cost me from bugolobi to the same place).

However, I do not mind the rain that much. I only wish it could rain at night and keep the place cool the whole day.

Posted by: Jay | Friday, August 11, 2006

Rain! Rain can be inconveniencing! But here I am nostalgic for it! And longing for Uganda! Sunshine is good, but having it all year round - like we do here - with no rains at all can be unnerving! Here too, the weather is unpredictable: the hot seasons seem to be getting much hotter with time!

Next time I come to East Africa, I have promised myself that - I will sit for hours in pouring rain!

Posted by: Barsawad | Wednesday, August 23, 2006

however do you come up with these titles?!?!

Posted by: iwaya | Thursday, August 31, 2006

Barsawadhas the sense of. Caught up in open, automn Europe for a long time once, I thought; I go Uganda, I go sit in the sun all day and all night. Now I am in Kampala and I'm reading the Internet till it cools a bit then I will go out.

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