Ethiopia in Uganda

One of the huge things I miss about living in Uganda is the cultural variety.  Uganda is a virtual melting pot of African nationalities all living and sharing their various cultures.  As I'm sitting here in Auckland googling like crazy to find somewhere African to eat I found myself drifting back to memories of Kabalagala.
My favourite little dive is on the main road down a little dirty alley, up some rustic colonial-period stairs and through a little Arabic door, one of those places where Muzungu would fear to tread.  Molober in Kabalagala was my favourite haunt, I was there almost every day when I lived in Kampala and when I missed a few days it was noticed.  My return was always heralded as though I had been lost at sea for many months, kissed three times on the cheek by the staff and some of the regular customers.  I long for the afternoons I would spend there with a friend or by myself or with a stranger I had just met.
There I spoke with exiled Ethiopian journalists, Sudanese refugees, Kenyan businessmen, an Egyptian drunkard and many North African men and women who came to Uganda looking to escape their Governments.  We were all there for the same thing, a little bit of peace and quiet tucked away neatly upstairs avoiding the busy roads filled with people and traffic and loud street vendors grilling chicken and matoke.
Not to mention the food Effe used to cook for us all.  Soft injeera, goat tibbs a little salata and boona.  I don't think a day passes where I don't think about eating at Molober or a coffee ceremony at mamma Fozi's house.  I hope my search of Auckland tomorrow provides me with something good to eat, although there are some experiences and feelings that I know will have to wait until I am back in East Africa.