A TALE OF TWO CITIES

A TALE OF TWO CITIES one in America, another in Africa By Aretha Frison - ex-resident of Bluffton, South Carolina. When I arrived at Entebbe Airport from Detroit, Michigan in October, and entered the city of Kampala, I remembered the old saying, “It’s a small world after all.” It made me feel good to see the similarities of home in Africa. With so many negative images of malnourished children, HIV/AIDS, and the battles between corrupt governments alongside various tribal warfare exploiting this continent, it was a relief to see everyday people walking to work, riding in cars, greeting each other on the street, and standing at the ATM machine in designer suits. You just do not know how tired I am of watching National Geographic shows that always have Africans running around in the jungle, butt-naked, chasing lions and antelopes. Now, I can see my people for who they really are — civilized, educated, witty, fun, and creative people who work hard and play hard just like everybody else. Since I came here, I have been approached by Ugandans who assumed that it is going to be a big adjustment for me, to the way of life here because I’m from America. You know, the most powerful nation in the world. Hollywood. Baseball. Apple Pie. Land of the free, home of the brave. But actually, this place is just like my home. Surely, our media and nation representatives are going to show you the glitz and the glamour of my country. But just as there were places that you hid from President George Bush when he made his visit, America does the same thing to its foreign visitors. One thing that struck me when I first came here was this reddish-orange dirt. This is nothing new to me. While attending college in Tallahassee, Florida, I saw this peculiar colour of dirt treading up the hill to class. And the hills. Kampala and Tallahassee are cities that consist of seven hills. What a coincidence when my friends told me this little fact about Kampala. Then, the little shops, eateries and stores along the city streets like Yusuf Lule Road, Prince Charles Road, Entebbe and Kampala roads are identical to rural neighbourhoods in South Carolina. I lived in a town called Bluffton, South Carolina, (never heard of it? I know. I did not either, until I moved there) and I was honestly shocked because I never lived in a rural area before. I am a city girl, who lived in Detroit — a metropolis to most people here, but a medium-size city to Americans, even if the population is over one million people. In the town of Bluffton, there are many of these kinds of markets throughout that area. Here, your shopping areas are convenient, and you can get online at an Internet café, buy a cell phone, purchase a dress, and get some great food within 20 minutes in an area like Bugolobi. In Bluffton, you have to drive five minutes up the road for groceries, then, 30 minutes to Savannah, Georgia, just to have a decent meal at a restaurant, to buy nice clothes and to go to the hair salon. Here, no one really needs a car because you have the boda boda, taxi bus and cabs. And speaking of the taxi buses, in Jamaica, Queens, New York, there are many of these taxis called “$1 vans” that pick you up and take you wherever you want to go. Plus, the traffic is pretty much the same in both places — chaotic. But, you all really need traffic lights. And the potholes, well, let us just say that every Detroiter is swerving around in their vehicles and pleading for better roads just like you. And, you would be surprised at all the farm animals that roam the streets in many parts of the South, Midwest, and central parts of America. As I travelled throughout my country, I’ve seen plenty of chickens clucking and prancing around on major streets and cows roaming in fields by major freeways in US. These parts of America are undeveloped in some areas, but are striving to become more modern and structured just like this country. Believe me, all of America does not look like Los Angeles, and I am well aware that all of Uganda is not like the Congo jungles. Honestly, I was surprised to see nice buildings and places like the Nile Hotel, the Kampala Club, Hotel Africana, Garden City Mall, and Mateo’s in Uganda. It made me feel proud that I, as an African-American, can go home one day, showing pictures and telling stories of our kin folk over here in the motherland who “got it going on.” But, because of lack of exposure to these facts, stereotypes stemming from hearsay, and a lack of interest to learn about each other, we just assumed that one country is better than the other, when we are actually on equal planes. Sure, America is a developed country with high-tech computers, credit cards that are slowly diminishing the US dollar, and stylish clothes, but just like any country, we have our problems. And I am trying to educate my relatives back home that Africa is made up of over 50 countries, so it is not just one big ol’ country. I want them to realise that Africans are living well just like Americans. So, remember that we, as Black people, and as nations, are both sitting in the same boat — pushing and paddling forward to have better lives. African people are definitely progressing in so many ways, just like African-Americans. Yet, I do miss America and its uniqueness, I am happy to say that I feel right at home here in Uganda. Contact Aretha B. Frison at rereb@hotmail.com. END Published on: Friday, 7th November, 2003 (N.V) Email this article to a friend.