Off to a Shaky Start

Our second round of magistrate trainings had a bit of a shaky start – literally. At about 5:30 on Monday morning, we were awakened by what we later learned was a 5.4 magnitude earthquake and a small aftershock about 10 minutes later. After that, our training session in Mbarara went off without incident. We had about 20 participants in a much quieter and much cooler room than we had had at the previous session.

We had decided to visit a small lodge outside of Fort Portal after the training. Although we had originally planned to travel on public transport, we were lucky enough to hitch a ride with two of the magistrates who were headed in the same direction. During the ride, we learned about the day-to-day lives of the magistrates and visited one of their families.

As was often the case with the magistrates, the conversation turned to the question of the relationship between their low salaries, which barely allow them to pay rent and their children’s school fees, and the potential for corruption. Moreover, many of them struggle with whether to remain in public service when they see that their classmates in private practice can earn in one day what they earn in one month.

After a night in Fort Portal, we headed out to Ndali Lodge, an old British homestead that has been converted into a small resort perched high atop the rim of one of the region’s many crater lakes. The fresh air of Ndali was the perfect antidote to Kampala. While we enjoy the convenience of Kampala and its shops and restaurants, it is a noisy city with severe air pollution. At Ndali, there is no electricity, but our cottage was lit by kerosene lamps and candles. We spent our days walking – around the rim of the lake, to a nearby vanilla farm, and to the local market – our afternoons sitting on the veranda with “sundowners,” and our evenings eating four course meals (soup, followed by appetizers (bruschetta one night and a spicy guacamole the next), a main course of fish (in a coconut curry sauce the first night and in a roulade with white asparagus the second), and of course, dessert (flambéed bananas in a caramel raisin sauce or banana fritters with a squeeze of lime and a drizzle of honey)).

Unfortunately, we had to leave after just two days to return to Kampala, wash our clothes (ok, to be honest, to have our clothes washed) and to head off to Soroti tomorrow for the last of the magistrate trainings.

The “New Lawyer”

Friday, February 16:

Before we left for Arusha, our hosts at the Judicial Studies Institute invited us to attend a ceremony, which at first we thought was called the “New Lawyer.” We didn’t really understand the title given that we were told that the ceremony was meant to assess the effectiveness of the judiciary in the prior year and to set goals for the coming year. At dinner with Elizabeth Musoke, we asked about it, and she explained (or so we thought) that it was called “The Law! Yeah!,” which we thought was an enthusiastic, but odd, name for the ceremony. Finally, we figured out that we had been invited to the opening of the “New Law Year.”

While we have become accustomed to some level of pomp and circumstance in our training sessions here in Uganda, this ceremony took it to a new level. The emcee for the event announced each honored guest as he or she arrived, and the police marching band gave a fanfare before the arrival of the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. (Although we did not get announced, we were the only foreigners present other than representatives of the embassies of China, Kenya, and Rwanda.) During the ceremony, we sat on the balcony of the High Court, surrounded by judicial officers ranging from Grade I magistrates to High Court and Supreme Court judges decked out in ceremonial wigs and elaborately embroidered robes.

Then the speeches began. We were particularly impressed by the first speech, from the president of the Ugandan Judicial Officers Association, a group that represents the interests of magistrates; he focused on the fact that while High Court, Court of Appeals, and Supreme Court judges have received recently raises, the magistrates have not gotten a raise in seven years and are currently paid about $300 per month. Next, the president of the Ugandan Law Society spoke chastising on the executive branch’s interference with the judiciary during the presidential election last year.

After the speeches, we joined the judges and other visiting dignitaries for a sherry party, where we had the opportunity to catch up with a number of the individuals that we have met during prior visits and where it was proposed that we be made honorary citizens of Uganda.

“Challenging Impunity”

Tuesday, February 13 and Wednesday, February 14:

While our last entry may have left the impression that our sole purpose in going to Tanzania was to go on safari, in fact, our primary purpose in visiting Arusha was to observe proceedings at the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, the U.N. court that has been authorized to try individuals involved in the 1994 genocide in Rwanda. Upon arrival at the tribunal, after clearing several steps of security, we were briefed by Moustapha Hassouna, the Director of Protocol and External Relations. We spent two days observing portions of three trials, including one in which the accused (defendant) was both a Minister in the government and a musician. He was accused of writing and performing songs that incited genocide. After listening to a linguistic expert analyze his songs on a linguistic, semantic, and stylistic basis, the accused himself cross-examined the expert on whether the words of the song were anything more than an accurate representation of Rwanda’s history under the Belgians.

We had another first: a ride in an U.N. vehicle to the home of Judge Solomy Bossa, a Ugandan High Court judge who is currently sitting on the Tribunal. Over tea, we discussed her views on the attorneys who practice before the tribunal, on the effectiveness of the tribunal in bringing closure to the family members of victims of the genocide, and on the tension between doing a job that has deep implications and the day-to-day tedium of presiding over a trial of six defendants that will go on for years.

On our last night in Arusha, we had Valentine’s Day dinner with our safari guide, Peter; his two children; the half-dozen other children of friends and relatives living in his home; and his cousin and cousin’s wife.

If it’s Tuesday, this must be Tanzania

Thursday, February 8 to Monday, February 12:

Picture yourself standing up in an open-roofed Land Rover, the warm breeze on your face as you bounce along off-road for miles and miles, surrounded by hundreds of thousands of wildebeest migrating from the Serengeti, in Tanzania, to the Masai Mara, in Kenya, in search of water. You watch hyenas at a watering hole and one of them takes off in pursuit of a baby Thompson gazelle; two adult gazelles run crisscross in front of the hyena in an attempt to throw it off track, but in the end, the baby tires and the hyena takes in down in two mouthfuls.

You see zebras, giraffes, and impalas grazing next to a group of a dozen ostriches lined up in single file, parading across the plains. You hear the songs of the tiny yellow weaver birds and overhead you see African fish eagles soaring. And for hours while you drive, you do not see another vehicle or any human presence.

And then you see him: Simba, the king of the jungle, the majestic male lion with his golden mane, lounging by the edge of a small pond. You park, not more than 10 feet from him, watching him while he watches you.

After some time, you decide to move on. Your driver turns the key: click – nothing happens. Again: click –but no ignition. Click, click, click, oh shit, click, click, click.

And thus, the second day of our safari with Scan Tan Tours took a turn for the worse. Eventually, we managed to shoo the lion away (“Please go away Mr. Lion, please”), so Peter, our driver-guide, could get out of the car and use a metal rod to bang on parts of the engine in a seemingly indiscriminate way, while Mimi kept trying the key. Laurel, to her credit, diagnosed the problem as the solenoid¸ and eventually either Peter’s banging or Mimi’s key-turning did the trick, and we were off again (and did not turn the car off until we made it back to camp that evening).

We kept driving and came upon a group of five more lions with a freshly-killed zebra. Although initially a bit squeamish on seeing (and hearing) the lions rip first through the zebra’s flesh and then turn to its internal organs, we became comfortable enough with the scene to eat our box lunches while watching the lions eat theirs. And we were not alone: the scavengers, including vultures, Marabou storks (quite possibly the ugliest birds on earth), and hyenas, ringed the lions, waiting for their turn at the carcass once the lions were done.

Click on the photo below for the movie version.

We ended the day by cruising through a herd of migrating zebras, thousands of them grouped in twos and threes facing back-to-back, resting heads on shoulders to keep a look-out for predators.

And to cap off a perfect day on safari, we happened upon a pride of lions, with a male and female and two adorable cubs.

The next day, we took an early morning game drive in the Ngorogoro Crater, an enormous caldera, which is all that is left of a mountain that was likely larger than Kilimanjaro. Although the animals were not as plentiful as they had been the day before, we added one cheetah and two rhinos to our list.

Having spent three days sitting in the car, we were ready for a bit of exercise. Peter took us to E Unoto Retreat, a high-end resort with beautiful bungalows overlooking a remote lake, and set us up with a local guide for a picturesque, but very muddy, hike to a waterfall. By the time we got back to our campsite, we were hot, sweaty, and covered with mud from the knees down. Peter jumped out of the vehicle, announcing to the staff as well as to about two dozen German tourists: “These two mamas need a cold beer before they die.”

The next day, our last on safari, we visited Lake Manyara National Park, where we saw troops of baboons playing, grooming each other, and swinging from tree to tree. And while we had seen a handful of elephants in the other parks, here we saw a herd of 20-25 including several babies. Finally, a flock of thousands of pink flamingos graced the alkaline lake in the middle of the park.

Back at L’Oasis Hotel, a charming little lodge just outside of town, we took a dip in the pool. The hotel’s resident crested crane stood at the edge of the pool watching his reflection. We later learned his very sad story: Like all crested cranes, he had had a mate, but she died after jumping from a bungalow and breaking her wing. Since that time, he spends most of his lonely days gazing at his own reflection in the pool or in the bungalow windows.

“We didn’t just find these two kind ladies on the street”

While we were introduced as the “three eminent professors from Seattle” during each of our presentations in India, our introduction in Uganda was equally flattering, but in a different way. To open the first of three training sessions for magistrates, Justice David Wangatusi, the Director of Uganda’s Judicial Studies Institute, told the participants that “these were not just two kind ladies we found on the street; they are our friends.”

We spent two days working with approximately 30 Grade I magistrates, the judicial officers who handle petty crimes, property and contract disputes, and family matters. Because Uganda does have a jury system, these magistrates must write a judgement (opinion) for each case that they hear. They will then read that judgement to the parties in open court.

The magistrates were an eager group and quick study despite fairly poor teaching conditions. The air conditioning was broken, and because it was quite warm, we had to open the windows. Unfortunately, the building is on a very busy thoroughfare jammed with trucks and mini-busses throughout the day, which left us feeling a bit like we were teaching in a sweaty, polluted tunnel. Nonetheless, we all persevered.

As this was our third formal training session in Uganda, we are finally mastering at least some of the protocol. While we remembered to call the judge, my lord, and the magistrates, your worships, Laurel got in trouble by launching into her thank you speech without waiting for the invitation to begin.

Speaking of old friends, after the seminar was over, we had dinner with Elizabeth Musoke, the Director of Legal Affairs at the Inspectorate General of Government. Elizabeth is the one who first invited us to Uganda and by doing so set our work in Uganda in motion. We ate at Haamdi’s, an Indian restaurant, with food as good as we had in India.

The next morning, sitting our hotel room, we heard a loud crash in tree outside our window. We looked and saw a macaque monkey sitting in the tree. While we have seen many monkeys on safari, and even in the cities in India, we had never seen one in Kampala. Apparently, very few other people had either because when we went to breakfast, everyone including tourists and staff, were up from their seats and watching the monkey run around the roof of the hotel.

Pineapple Black Pepper Tarte Tatin with Vanilla Bean Creme Fraiche and Pina Colada Cream Sauce

After four days spent primarily in our hotel room preparing for the magistrate training, we decided to treat ourselves to a swanky dinner on Saturday night. We've had some very good food in Kampala, but dinner at the Fez Brassierie, in the Emin Pasha hotel, was nothing short of divine.

The hotel is located in the Nakasero neighborhood of Kampala, an upscale area high on the hill about a mile out of the city center, formerly home to British colonials, and now home to embassy staff, NGO directors, and other Westerners living in Kampala. The hotel is relatively new and is described as Kampala's first boutique hotel. The main building has been converted from an old British home, complete with hardwood floors and antique furnishings, and the rooms (or at least the one we peaked at after dinner) are decked out with four poster canopy beds, down-stuffed chaise lounges, and claw foot tubs.

But back to dinner: Sorry to gloat, but we were able to sit outside, on the patio overlooking the city, with just enough of a breeze to warrant a light jacket. To start, we had a butternut squash salad on a bed of dandelion greens with roasted beets, green beans, goat cheese, and toasted hazelnuts in a balsamic reduction. For the main course, we split two dishes: a broiled nile perch
with wilted greens and banana fritters in a red pepper sauce, and spring chicken served on mini-corn cakes with a sweet black bean sauce. (And by the way, the fruits and vegatables here bear little resemblance to their counterparts back home: here, they are fresh, sweet, ripe, and juicy.)

But the crowning touch was dessert: a tarte tatin of pineapple and black pepper topped with vanilla bean creme fraiche and served in a pool of pina colada cream sauce. We gushed about it so much to the waiter that he offered to have a second one made for us to take back to the hotel but we resisted, only to give us an excuse to go back for another dinner.

Coming Home to Kampala

January 31 – February 3:

When we bought our tickets from India to Uganda, we thought that saving several hundred dollars each on the fares justified leaving at 4:30 a.m., changing planes twice, and spending almost six hours in the Nairobi airport. In retrospect, that may not have been our wisest decision, but we (and all our luggage!) made it to Kampala exhausted, but in one piece.

During our journey, we noticed that quite a few people were staring at us (you don’t see many pairs of white women traveling from India to Uganda). We decided that they probably thought we were nuns, so we’ve decided to form our own order. We’re thinking about the Daughters of Clarity, but we may go with the Sisters of the Immaculate Contraction. Other suggestions are welcome.

In Kampala, we’re staying at the Mosa Courts, where we stayed on our first trip to Uganda. What our two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment lacks in décor and charm, it makes up for in size, which is nice because we will be here for a while. We also have a full kitchen, and after a month of traveling, we were thrilled (sad, but true) with our excursion to the supermarket and subsequent tuna sandwich lunch. We have also been scouring the city, buying out the limited supply of Diet Pepsi.

On Monday, we start the first of three training sessions for Ugandan magistrates, so we have spent most of our time preparing for the sessions. In doing so, we have read through a number of judgments (opinions) written by the magistrates. In one, we found our new favorite ambiguous pronoun example:

The complainant saw the accuseds come to her bedroom and one of them tried to touch her breasts. She shouted for her husband, and he came into the house and tried to grab them, but went for his gun and the accuseds escaped.

We assume the husband was trying to grab the attackers, but then again, maybe not.