A Presidential Visit

Written Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Well, it’s been almost a month since I left Canada for my third trip to Uganda and this is the first blog posting that all of you have seen from me. It’s not that I haven’t had anything to write about. In fact, an abundance of ideas is probably more of a problem than a lack of them.

Today an event occurred that absolutely necessitates writing a blog posting. It was an Amanda-Uganda Milestone – I’ve seen Yoweri Museveni, the President of Uganda. Now before you get too excited, you should know that I’m probably the last person in Uganda to see the President in person. In the words of our office accountant Goretti, “The man has been President since 1986 – I’ve seen him many times.” Regardless, I’m pretty pleased with the fact that I happened to be in the right place at the right time to cross paths with him. The “viewing” took place at a public presentation on the edge of Fort Portal where performers and politicians showed up to entertain and win votes. I went with my field supervisor, Tom Rubaale, who graciously invited me to join him after I asked him for advice on how I should go about attending the event. I couldn’t bring my camera with me so the following are descriptions of moments captured instead of images captured. Enjoy!

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We arrive at the site, a large open field with tents set up to create a rectangular interior space where the presentations will happen. Tom is a local politician so there are seats waiting for us under the furthest tent. As we walk through the presentation space a growing wave of giggling and laughter occurs. I can only assume that it is from my presence since I’m the only non-African present. I feel every eye upon me.

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Museveni is on the campaign trail hoping to get elected for a fourth term. His party, the National Resistance Movement (NRM), has chosen yellow as their party colour. Yellow is everywhere. As I sit there is a woman who walks by me several times throughout the afternoon and every time she walks by I notice one more yellow accessory on her that I had missed the previous time. Yellow NRM T-shirt. Yellow NRM cap. Huge yellow purse. Yellow shoes. Yellow necklace. Gold earrings. I’m immensely amused.

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In the week leading up to his visit, there was a lot of buzz around town that the President was coming to Fort Portal. His arrival last Friday was signaled to all by the helicopter and military vehicles loaded with troops and big guns. This morning I learned about the public gathering through my regular motorcycle driver, who’s turning out to be an excellent source of information on town happenings.

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The Batooro Brass Band is here for the event. Their presence always brings a smile to my face. Their mismatched uniforms and busted-up instruments give them a shabby appearance and make them ideal characters for a Disney movie in which the underdog team triumphs over the odds to win the competition. What they lack in finesse they make up for in stamina. Almost every weekend I see them marching up and down the streets of Fort Portal, announcing a special event or leading a wedding procession. There is one girl in the group and the woman next to me is excited to see “the girls in action.” I agree. The young conductor has bucket loads of charisma and showmanship, expertly swinging and tossing his large baton to the music. At the end of the event Museveni brings him an envelope (which I’m assuming contains money) as appreciation for the show. During this brief exchange the band manages to get a bit lost musically and the MC has to shout for them to stop playing.

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When it comes time for Museveni to give his speech, suddenly a pickup truck pulls into the space. It’s not just any pickup truck. It has a built-in podium. Attendants appear out of almost nowhere carrying steps and instantly Museveni is on his stage truck addressing his supporters.

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In Uganda there is a ubiquitous use of straws for drinking out of bottles and glasses. Order a drink from a restaurant and it’s almost guaranteed that your beverage will arrive with a glass stuffed full to wrapped straws like a bouquet of flowers. As a testament to the prevalence of straw use, during his speech a catering attendant brought Museveni a bottle of water and a straw. Museveni paused mid-speech to carefully unwrap the straw and place it in the opened bottle of water. (Note: Later in the day I saw a man at a bar drinking from a beer bottle through a straw.)

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Tom and I are seated among local politicians and leaders, but we seem to be in the rowdy section. As the end of the presentation nears our seatmates are more frequently and more loudly reacting to the events before them.

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Apparently at Uganda political rallies the beverages of choice are bottles of water and individual bags of milk. Volunteers distribute them (with straws) throughout the thirsty crowd. In the “open seating area” filled with children and youth the attendees scramble to rip open the boxes of water, grabbing a bottle before the supply disappears.

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On the opposite end of the crowd I notice some of the Mpanga Senior Secondary School students that I work with in the peer education program. When the President begins his speech they unroll yellow signs with writing on them and hold them up. I ask the lady next to me what they are doing. She says that they are demonstrating and explains that the Mpanga, a government school, was given a very small plot of land that is insufficient for the large body of over 2000 students. Meanwhile, the adjoining land was given to the Ministry of Forestry even though there are no trees on it. The students are trying to draw attention to the need for more space at the school and the inappropriateness of having government land sitting ideal when students are crowded on a tiny plot. (Having been to the campus many times I have to agree that there is indeed a lack of space.) After the event I talk with the students and they tell me how they first brought the idea to the Headteacher. He gave his blessings since it is a legitimate issue that has been trapped in the constipated political system for years (my words, not his). The boys tell me that the President’s secretary gathered information from them, leaving them wondering if a little attention from the President will fast-track some positive changes.

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The event is 98% in Rutooro, the local language in which my vocabulary is limited to “thank you,” “very” and “slowly” (for when I’m traveling with motorcycle drivers). I occupy myself by peeling off the water bottle label and experimenting with accordion folds. I asked my seatmate if Museveni understands Rutooro (wondering if I’m not the only one who is lost) and she replies, “Yes, and he even speaks.” I later found this to be true.

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Like any Canadian sporting or political event, there is tons of paraphernalia to be bought. I should have been surprised at this. For a price you can have your own NRM T-shirt, cap, badge or calendar. All of these bright yellow items feature a picture of President Museveni in his trademark hat. I’m very intrigued by the hat, having seen previous pictures of him wearing it. He arrives at the event wearing the hat, popping out of the sunroof of his bullet-proof BMW waving his hands. I make a mental note to do some research on the hat. When did it appear? Is it for function or fashion? Does he now only wear it because it’s his trademark or does he still love it? By the way, various colours of the hat are also available for sale. Another intriguing item is presented by a dreadlock-wearing vendor circling around carrying CDs and calling out, “NRM Music!” At first I think I must have misheard him. But then, minutes later a smartly-dressed musician comes out and starts singing a song about Museveni, “He’s the only president that’s brought peace to Uganda,” holding up four fingers representing support for Museveni’s campaign for a fourth term.

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Towards the end of Museveni’s speech a couple of spectators are breaking out into the presentation space and making a run for the President. Apparently the fuss is that some war veterans had requested a meeting with the President to discuss various issues but were not provided with a response. A couple of them are permitted to take the microphone while others are strong-armed back into the crowd.

And so ends the “slide show.”

Real pictures of other life events to come soon!