Just me, the dog, the sunset and the boys

My birthday.  Probably the best one I ever had since I was ten years old and my friend Declan and I had to carry a massive tarpaulin down the street back to his house.  What we did with the tarpaulin I’m not entirely sure but it’s one of those memories you randomly recollect at odd times.  So anyway, I know this is a belated entry but I thought I would trek back in time as I’m on my journey home.

July 14^th 2010.  It wasn’t an overly happy day as we were still reeling from the July 11^th terrorist attacks in Kampala.  It was a little bit too close to home and almost everyone knew someone that had passed away, myself included.  Kampala is a small city once you’ve been there a while.  I think it hit me so hard because it was just too close, I wasn’t worried for myself I mean we were safely in the bush.  I was worried for people that I couldn’t get hold of, the families and friends of my friends and for everyone in Uganda who I hadn’t met.  I was worried for the country and what lie ahead in Uganda’s future, and the hardest thing for me is not being here for the people I care about.

But I digress!  My birthday actually turned out great all things considering.  Comfort, Whisper, Conrad, Roger, my dog and myself trekked up to Nkozi Hill.  Carrying nothing but whiskey, red wine and a packet of Pringles we watched the sunset and talked, laughed and enjoyed each other’s company.  At one point Comfort disappeared to get firewood, being the Ninja that he is he came back with a tree.  We spent the night sitting around the fire talking about god knows what until it got too late, too cold and the fire started to die down.  It’s one of my favourite memories.

That hill is easy to get up, insanely difficult to slide down when you’ve had a bit too much to drink.

Driving Across the Savannah...because that’s something I say alot...

Travelling from Mombasa to Nairobi.  It sounds fun, you get to see the Savannah one last time as you make your way to Nairobi to leave.  But it’s not.  It’s hot, sweaty, uncomfortable and the guy behind you is on his phone the whole way and there’s a good chance the only hairy Kenyan will be next to you wiping his sweaty, hairy arm against yours the whole way.

But the scenery ain’t too bad.  I was really hoping that I would see something cool before I leave for a long time.  We are driving through the Savannah after all so you kind of expect something.  What was my last wild animal going to be before I depart?  I was in luck!  Baboons...I freaking love baboons.  Then just chewing away on the roadside at some stray grass were two zebras.  Two!  They’re like the prison inmates of the horse world with their genetically pre-determined uniforms.  Then more baboons, dammit baboons can’t be the last thing I see! 

Just then two massive giraffes appear in my window frame!  With my face firmly glued to the window, not just for the view but also because the further I was to the window the further away I was from sweaty arm man.  Four more giraffes chewing slowly away at some acacia some into sight, marvellous, I thought!  It does not get much better than this.  All of a sudden the bus slowed down to enable the passengers to see six more giraffes trekking across the plains making their way to the acacias.  Pay for a safari you say?  Bah!  I just had one included in my low, low bus fare!

Wouldn’t you know it giraffes would not be my last group of animals (aside from cows, goats, sheep and chickens) but low and behold a herd of animals was up ahead.  What was it?  I was excited?  What could it possibly be?  What would my final animal sighting be?  Camels.  A big, dirty, stinking herd of camels.  Spitting and peeing everywhere.  Trust a camel to ruin my good time again.  Bloody camels.

Ride your what? Oh...Camel...it's still a no.

What a beautiful day.  Sitting on the white sands of Nyali beach in Mombasa drying off in the hot sun after swimming in the cooling ocean waters.  Life is sweet.  The salty smell of the ocean in the air, the palm trees blowing in the breeze.  Ahhhhh..............relaxing, there's nothing that could ruin this.  Oh wait you have a camel.

The exchange;
Camel Guy: "Muzungu lady for you special price, you want to ride my camel?"
Me: "No thank you."
Camel Guy: "Why?"
Me: "I don't really want to ride a camel."
Camel Guy: "I take you up and down the beach"
Me: "No.  But wow your camel is peeing right next to me can you move the camel?"
Camel Guy: "Camel has to finish before moving."
Me: "oh...okkkkk...."

So ten minutes later the camel's bladder is now sufficiently empty and camel guy and his money maker continue to hook and pimp along the beach stretch.  I wondered when that camel smell was going to leave too.  It wasn't going anywhere.  Camel pee is an insanely strong odour that lingers, festers, grows and develops in the nostrils as the pee soaks into the sand.  The pee smell didn't leave but I sure as hell legged it out of there.

Anyone for cat? I mean beef...yesssss...beef???

Shawarma.  Possibly the greatest late night meal ever.  Besides junk food in Colombia...ahhh memories...
There's this little roadside diner in Mombasa that sells the arabic (?) inspired delicacy and it is the best.  For those not in the know, Shawarma is a tasty pile of meat, chips, salad and lots and lots of sauces.  With a bit of extra chilli powder it's like a spicey, saucy mess on your plate with a bread roll that you eat with your fingers.

The only problem I have with this particular roadside diner is the cats.  There are cats everywhere.  Crawling around your feet begging for scraps like the paupers of the animal kingdom.  When it rains the smell of dirty, wet cat permeates the air and makes it almost impossible to enjoy your meal...almost.

Now this leads me to the question.  Is that really beef in my Shawarma?  It doesn't exactly look like beef, or smell like beef or even taste like beef.  It's hard to tell with all that sauce.  With all those cats around I start thinking one day, what's a really cheap alternative to beef?  One that just walks around you and is easily caught...**chokes on meat**  Oh dear lord no!  They wouldn't!  They couldn't!  You know after all my time travelling I have learnt sometimes if something tastes good, it's probably better not to ask just in case you don't like the answer.

Now if you'll excuse me I have to go get me some Beef (Kitty-Cat) Shawarma!

Love for all! Hey...no wait a minute...not you.

Have you ever been in love?

Have you ever loved someone so much that what other people thought didn't matter?  Like that time you dated a white girl or a black guy and even though so people judged you for your choices, it didn't matter.  Why should someone else's opinion matter right?  Skin colour is irrelevant because you're in love and noone can take that away from you.

What about the time you dated a girl that your boys didn't approve of?  She called too often and the boys felt she just wasn't cool enough and preferred you single.  But you didn't care because she made you happy, every time your phone beeped you couldn't wipe the smile off your face.  Those un-cool things she did just turned you on and made you laugh.  And ladies you know you dated a guy once that your girlfriends didn't like.  He was a bum, he couldn't afford to take you out to a fancy restaurant, he couldn't pick you and your girls up for a night on the town and there was no way you could take him to the baddest club because he was more comfortable in daggy threads than the latest trends.  But did you listen to your girls?  NO!  Because playing video games in his stinky room was the most fun you'd had in ages and sharing a rolex in Kabalagala was the most romantic night of your life.

Not caring what anyone thought just made you stronger, I mean it's not like it's illegal to date, love or be with whoever you want.  Sometimes we just have to turn a blind eye to our family, friends and societal judgment...it's not like you're going to end up in the newspapers for loving someone.

What if the person you loved was someone of the same sex?  What would you do if the GOVERNMENT said you couldn't love them?  Can you even imagine what it must be like to be told you're wrong, there's something wrong with you and you're going to be treated like a criminal for loving someone.  Not only would you be scrutinised by everyone you know but your face put in a newspaper and be investigated, tried and imprisoned.  What for?  For love.  Who you love is subject to outright ridicule and punishment in Uganda.

Do people honestly think that criminalising (and if Bahati has his way murdering) homosexuality is going to eradicate it?  Can anyone be that oblivious and ignorant?  Really?  All that we are doing is driving homosexuality further underground and forcing people to live a lie.  Think about it guys, what would you do if someone said; "No!  Don't love that person."

Hot, sticky and oh so sweet

Mombasa is an amazing place to be, full of different types of people everywhere you look.  Old Mombasa Town in particular is incredible, as well as playing host to thousands of tourists the back streets are filled with locals each with an interesting story of their own.  Somalian boys on street corners trying to get you to exchange money with them, men with bottled water whose eyes light up when they see a white person (it’s hot right and white people love water, we’re like camels).  Then there’s covered Muslim women heading to the local Mosque.  Street beggars hanging on to the glimmer of hope as a shiny 5 shilling coin falls into their outstretched palms and by contrast rich Kenyan business men sipping on latte’s at the fancy cafes.  Oh and let’s not forget the tourist groups walking around with their guides with the scared deer-in-headlights-look.  I’ve never understood the group travel thing, I much prefer the less safe option of just wandering around aimlessly waiting for something exciting to come my way.

Today was one of my more interesting encounters, in a rustic old colonial-style apartment I met an Indian-by-heritage, second generation Kenyan man named...let’s see we’ll call him Raj.  Raj is a weed dealer.  He spends most of the day sitting in his hot and sticky apartment rolling joints to sell.  It’s an interesting profession, one that means he can sit at home and smoke weed most of the day while meeting people.  It’s like working in a Darwin video store only you get to be your own boss and probably earn more.  He buys 400KShs worth of locally grown ganja, picks the seeds and the stems out then expertly rolls joints which he on-sells at 10KShs per stick.  Most days he sells around 80 sticks per day so every day is a profit of around 400KShs.  It doesn’t seem like a lot but in a country where employment is difficult to come by, even if you have multiple degrees and years of experience it becomes a lot, well enough to get by on anyway.  I asked how many each person buys and it’s always about 1 or 2 sticks each so that means between 40-80 people come and see him every day.   

Like a plastic surgeon Raj’s slender fingers continue to deftly and elegantly roll perfect joints, one after the other.  Like a faithful partner there is always someone eager to visit him to get their fix.  

Holland in hindsight or fat joint and a funky beat

Grafitti in Amsterdam

Marcel!  My favourite Dutchman (sorry Ben!) was there with open arms to greet me at the train station.  I must say I did shed a tear, I’m not quite sure why perhaps a mix of excitement and sheer exhaustion.  All that travel, all that sign language, all the attitude you cop as a traveller really wears you down, so a friendly face and a cuddle did the trick. 

Marcel & I

Marcel lives in what I can only describe as “Little Africa Town”, I’m not kidding he lives on Pretoria Lane and is probably one of the only whites on the street.  Like a culturally diverse episode of Postman Pat.

Marcel had some friends come over for dessert and tea the first night and I ate something I can only describe as heaven.  I cannot remember the name of it but it’s like thin-soft-almost-pastry-but-not-hollow ball filled to the point of explosion when you bite into it with whipped cream and then, as if that wasn’t enough, covered in a soft buttery chocolate. I love The Netherlands.  Rotterdam was one of the rare places in the world where I could actually see myself living.  Although the amount of Dutch people I have met since then have told me that Rotterdam in not the bees knees...I’m inclined to disagree.  Maybe it’s because I was in a post-Uganda haze but I thought it was fabulous, walking along the waterfront, dodging tram-ish looking transport things, going to the awesome supermarket down the street.  I think food is one of those things that amazes me the most about anywhere in the world. 

Andrea Stultiens & some funky street art

But I did venture outside of Rotterdam.  The fabulous and super famous Andrea Stultiens was having a photography exhibition near Maastricht so Marcel and I tripped out to Maastricht, a quaint villagey-style town filled with bakeries and second hand markets.  That’s really about all I have to say about Maaaaaaastricht.  

The exhibition was interesting and I managed to get myself in a Dutch newspaper thanks to the fact that I wore my kitenge.  Oh and they served free sushes...(starts drooling) sushes...like the first cream filled pastry but smaller and without the chocolate on top.  People were staring I ate that many.  Like all of them, I was like a hunger strike patron who just won the fight, stuffing them in my mouth, grabbing them out of people’s hands so I could have them all to myself.  Sharing clearly not a concept I was partaking in.

It's just like riding a bike...stupid saying

The next day I went to Njemejin (or something like that) to spend the night with Andrea at her super lovely house.  We rode push bikes to the after-party of the World Music Festival and watched Colombian band Choc Quib Town perform.  They were incredible!  Latino Hip-Hop at it’s finest.  I forgot how white people dance though, it was hilarious...all that dancing out of tune.  There is a great beat there, Hollandish people just can’t follow it.

Next on my list of adventures was Amsterdam.  Amsterdam.  Oh wow.  First stop was the Rasta Baby Cafe!  It went like this;

I just looked at it...that's all...

Me: “Excuse me, do you have coffee here?”

Rasta: “Nah man”

Me: “Do you have any food here?”

Rasta: “Nah man”

Me: “ooookkkk.....so then I’ll just have a fat ass joint and a bottle of water.”

Rasta: “good choice”

Just then the one and only Neville Valentine (reggae Artiste) came in and chatted with me for a bit, gave me a signed album of his and his card and just like that he was gone...I was in awe, I was inspired, I was damn hungry!  

So copious amounts of food later I headed to the penis shaped monument in the centre of town to meet Dave Thom and Ali, old volunteers of Edirisa who are now all loved up together in Amsterdam.  We visited the World Press Photography Exhibit which was mind blowing then I managed to haul my light headed arse down the hooker filled alleys to the train station back to Rotterdam.  Where I ate more food, of course.

Big man...big dreams...goals to be humbled by...

The desire to educate and effect social change using artistic mediums has been around since the Romantic Era of the late 18^th Century.  Bavubuka is no different, it is an intellectual movement with the goal to bring about change.  What we are seeing in East Africa at the moment is a change in direction against societal norms through its music, art and literature.  We are seeing an intellectual revolution designed to change lives, opinions and stigma.  Silas Balabyekkubo aka Babaluku from Bavubuka is the founder and leader of the Hip Hop movement based in Kampala.  Thanks to the power being out the Wonderous Wanderer got the chance to sit down in the candlelight at their headquarters in Makindye for an inspirational conversation with Silas.

A lot of people think of hip hop groups or people promoting the spread of hip hop a lot of people associate that bad language, behaviour, violence and drug use.  This is a common misconception which we have acquired from certain American rappers.  In fact the Hip Hop movement is well known in the US to have saved lives due to its ability to turn negative energy into positive energy using creative means.  The hip hop movement encompassing MC’s, break dancers, graffiti artists and beatboxers has been a creative outlet for underprivileged youth since the 1970’s and with a little help from Silas and Bavubuka it is changing lives in Uganda.  Silas is a founding member of Bataka Squad one of the pioneering hip hop groups in Uganda introducing the country to the Lugaflow style.

Bavubuka began as a dream of Silas’ when he was living in Canada, “For a good two years I was dreaming of coming to Africa.  While I was in school the vision started to manifest as to what I could really do...I needed to find a good reason why I should come back.  I wanted to be of purpose to be of use.”  Silas did come back to Uganda with his dream in tow in 2005 which marks the beginning of the Bavubuka Foundation and long road ahead filled with dreams, music and interesting people.  What exactly does the Bavubuka Foundation do?  “Bavubuka provides spaces for young people to self express, not only that but its focus is to really empower young people to be leaders and take up responsibilities in their communities.  To be a part of the solution to all the issues that are going on.  So really equipping them with the power to be able to narrow down things that are happening and being part of the solution bringing the change that they want to see.  Not only that but giving them a platform to start being consciously aware of things that are going on around the world and to build a global citizenship.”  According to the Bavubuka website their aim is this “The Bavubuka Foundation is proud to be in parternship with the Temple of Hip Hop created to assist in the building of Hip Hop as a legitimate community of prosperous and peace-filled people. We are highly supportive of their belief that Hip Hop is an alternative behaviour capable of raising one's self-awareness, self-worth, and self-respect and support their Hip Hop Declaration of Peace which embodies these principles.

Follow this link for just one of the many videos Bavubuka have on YouTube

  

You might be wondering how encouraging youth to be creative helps them accomplish all this, how can equipping someone with certain skills motivate them to perpetuate change in their community?  Silas likes the term revolution when speaking about the Foundation, “being a part of Uganda, you can ask a University kid here what is revolution and they won’t be able to explain to you what the term revolution really means because there are no platforms there for creativity.  To me when I was coming home as an artist I said I want to leave a mark of using creativity as a tool for transformation.”  Like any movement based around change through creativity there are always going to be critics, just like Edgar Allan Poe or Bob Marley and the Wailers had so too will Bavubuka.  “If you have exercised yourself in the field of getting out and meeting the people and meeting real stories of true life challenges then you would understand the need of creativity especially in poverty stricken environments” says Silas. 

Something that is really interesting about Bavubuka is that they are not simply mimicking the hip hop of other countries they have been responsible for what Silas terms “indigenous” hip hop in Uganda.  That is the beautiful thing about hip hop is its ability to traverse countries and cultures and become adapted by people worldwide and modified to suit different languages and issues.  The only thing that doesn’t change is the power and influence the music has for disaffected youths.  “Empowering young people to embrace their culture, to embrace their tradition which has gained us a lot of respect from the elderly.  Showing the people that you can convey positive messages, educational messages and awareness messages through the art form of using your indigenous language” says Silas of the importance of using language.

“The first mandate that we’ve used is really using music as a tool for social change.” – Silas Balabyekkubo

The unique point of difference Bavubuka has over other movements or organisations is the importance placed on youth speaking out about problems.  “We focus on our MC’s to understand that they have a responsibility in their community to speak for the people.  Most of all our slogans are inspired by the people, for the people, so the work that’s done among young people is actually preserved in the whole community.”  As a nominee for the recently indoctrinated Young Achiever Award in Uganda Silas points out the difficulties faced here as there has been no appreciation for youth efforts in the country.  “On a grass roots level what we have achieved, we have bred a generation of advocates.  We’ve bred a generation of smart, young people who are starting to exercise their entrepreneurial abilities.  We have bred a generation that loves to be educated by creating spaces that allows them to be creatively attached to the need of education to enhance what they’re putting out.”

Three young boys walk into the studio, so after all this talk, it’s only fair to ask Silas what he thinks these young boys will grow up to be.  “These (boys) are some of the youngest MC’s in Uganda.  They’re still in school and I always tell people when they come to Bavubuka, the kids that come here are not only rappers, you’ve got young ones that are aspiring to be lawyers, electrical engineers, graphic designers, you’ve got actors.  We’re a part of young people aspiring to achieve our dreams but creating a platform whereby we springboard of each other’s strengths.  So really these young ones are the young leaders, I mean these young kids are freestylers.  One thing that I have seen among them as they have proved is that at this age, because the art of freestyle is the art of critical thinking, so you have a kid like this talking about child issues.  I think it’s adding to another creative realm of Uganda.  It’s showing young people that hey we’ve got a voice and we can speak up!”

If you’re worried that Bavubuka Foundation will end any time soon, fear not!  Silas has assured Uganda that the movement is a lifetime commitment, “it’s a legacy, we’re aiming to establish a dynasty!  It will live in the memoirs and the memories of the many kids that have walked on this property.”

One Love.

Photos by Roshan Karmali (the fabulous, super talented Roshan Karmali)