Rain break

When it rains, Kampala grinds to a halt. Bodas scurry off, and denizens huddle under awnings. During the dry season, the weather usually clears soon enough. So they wait, betraying nary a hint of impatience, keeping to “Africa time,” until the skies open and then the hustle and bustle suddenly springs back to life.

I woke up the other morning to a downpour. My roommate urged me to wait it out – no one would be at work yet. I puttered about the house for a bit, but, being naturally impatient, I decided to set out. As I got on the boda, the rain suddenly picked up and I arrived completely soaked, 2 hours late for work. Barely anyone was there, just the lucky few with cars. They had a good laugh at my expense – the silly, over-ambitious Westerner who would have to sit in damp pants all day.