It is not strange to find animals relaxing in the middle of the town amidst the heavy traffic

rebecca harshbarger.was in Kampala as part of her Master's program in journalism at City University of New York. Before she returned home, she said Kampala had seven wonders that will forever perplex her

1. The taxi park.
The first wonder of Kampala is probably the heart of its transportation network: the old taxi park.

The park is a complete miracle of human ingenuity and survival, a combination of intense overcrowding and hundreds of commercial transactions.

Anything is possible in the old taxi park. As you get closer, particularly at peak hours, you don’t think there is anyway you - on foot - can enter the park and come out alive. It’s just too crowded. But by some marvel, taxis move into the maze, somehow pick up passengers and manoeuvre out with stunning speed.

Sometimes it does take awhile, but not as long as you would think.

As if passengers and vehicles are not enough, business jumps into the fray at a scale that boggles the mind. You can actually buy anything at the Old Park; kabalagala, airtime, newspapers, groundnuts, clothes, underwear, shoes, earrings, anything.

2. Hospitality
The generosity and hospitality of Ugandans towards outsiders. Yes, it’s true, xenophobia is a fact of life in all countries, and is exacerbated by unemployment and poverty. But despite the struggles that Ugandans go through, especially compared to other more privileged societies, they harbour very little xenophobia. Generous, friendly, and welcoming, are all words I would use to describe Ugandan society, no matter what part of the country I am in. I would pay a friend a visit, and even if they had only one last piece of bread in their house, they would offer it to me. All because I am a guest, a friend, a visitor. Kampala is no exception.

One morning, the strap of my sandals broke, and I went flying onto the pavement in front of Aristock Books and an overpriced Chinese restaurant. Five people apologised to me sympathetically (“Sorry sorry sorry!”) and a man five feet away from me immediately lent me a slipper while he began to repair my shoe.

A potential crisis — going to work while missing a shoe — was defused all because of Kampala’s generosity. Yes, it’s true that tourists do get ripped off, and I have to bargain twice as hard with a boda rider to get even close to an actual price. Few cities can resist the temptation to rip off tourists — this also happens quite a bit in my home city, New York, but as a whole, Kampala opens up it arms to outsiders.

3. Kasubi Tombs.
Most tourists tend to go outside Kampala to see some of Uganda’s spectacular geography. Murchison and Sipi falls, Mountains of the Moon, and the beaches in Entebbe and Sesse Islands should not be missed. But for a real understanding of Buganda culture, you need to understand this World Heritage site.

The historical site was built using wood, thatch, reed, wattle and daub and is the resting place for the last four Kabakas. The Ugandan tourism board website says it better than me: “The Kasubi Tombs site bears eloquent witness to the living cultural traditions of the Baganda.” Amen.

When I went, I was in a large group of about 20 Americans and three Ugandans. We listened to the history of the tombs from a guide and were taught traditional Buganda dance. Inside the tombs, we felt calm, spiritual, and honoured to be there.

4. Thriftiness.
Many Kampalans, and Ugandans in general, have the ability to make every shilling stretch so far. Whereas I’ve been pathetic in managing the falling American dollar’s effect on my pocketbook, most Kampalans have the gift of making each shilling last so long.

Not only do many Kampalans survive on the tiniest salaries, they manage to do so with grace, resilience, a stunning wardrobe and perfectly styled hair. A woman in Kampala might be down to her last sh200, but she always looks like a million dollars. Many Kampalans don’t even have transport to go to work but somehow they manage to arrive at work everyday, hustling every step of the way.

5. Livestock, Chilling?
By that, I mean livestock chilling not just on the side of the road, but amidst heavy traffic. I’ll never forget when I first arrived in Kampala and saw a cow chilling downtown. Sometimes you go weeks without seeing as much as a goat meandering on a highway, other times you see animals everywhere.

Today, on a boda in Kyebando, the driver and I were overwhelmed by 20 cows. We dogged, turned, and cut off cows passing through the neighbourhood. I realised then how much I would miss Kampala. Back home, you won’t see as much as a goat, nibbling on a stalk of grass at a gas station.

6. Bargaining.
Nsobola okulamuza? Ugandans are sharp bargainers, Kampalans in particular. In a car rapidly pulling away from the roadside, a passenger in the back will still be bargaining with a roadside vendor. The vendor may even run after the taxi, determined to sell his product. As the car speeds away, the passenger may hurl her coins out the window, unable to even pass them to the vendor’s hand.

Anything and everything can be bargained for in Kampala. I suspect that even the stiff, fixed prices of Shoprite and Game may be flexible if you found the right moment to swoop down on a manager.

Me, I’m a terrible bargainer. The notion of fixed prices, after years of living in the United States, is difficult to lodge. When the time comes to bargain, I take a lot of time to prepare. I create a cheat sheet of Luganda phrases, which I might not even use. Then, when I greet the vendor I want to buy something from, I use every Luganda greeting I can think of. Abeka bali batya? Wasuze otya nyo? Oli otya? This, at least, will drop the price considerably.

In fact, just saying sente meka is a huge help. They will still offer me a mzungu price, but at least I’ll have a chance. And then, there are my personal bargaining tactics, observed from Ugandan friends. Ndi muyizi, I’ll plead, which generates a lot of laughter. Osaka ki, I’ll follow up with, which will really freak people out. This chick knows too much Luganda. Well, not really. I’m just pretending. Nja kuwa…lukumi? Lukumi bitaano? Please?

7. The obsession with the word local.
This, in its own subtle way, strikes me as the most bizarre. Kampalans are obsessed with the word local, using it to construct the identities of their neighbours, friends, or themselves. Favourite Ugandan foods are never allowed to just be food. Matooke, posho, sim sim? People might even use the l-word twice to describe their dishes. As in, “this is our local, local food.” It’s not just food, it’s local food. Yes, I understand, many types of foods are served in Kampala, but why not just call matooke matooke? Does it have to be the “local, local dish?”

In fact, the word local goes further, deeper. “The local people. The local community.” And of course, let’s not forget, “the local languages.” Why can’t Luganda or Lango just be a language? Why does it have to be a local language? Why are the spiritual traditions of the Ankole, the local beliefs? Why can’t they just be beliefs?

Often times, it seems local is used as an insult, or a way for Kampala acquaintances to get closer to me, since I’m not local. They call their friends, communities, and radio stations local in a way that seems almost insulting, as if inviting me to jump on their condescending bandwagon. “How do you deal with these local people?” a man might complain to me in the taxi. Or, “this is just a local station.” As opposed to what? The BBC?

Back home, I may refer to myself as a native New Yorker, with pride and emotion choked up in my voice, but I can’t imagine referring to myself as a “local person,” or a favourite neighbourhood author as “some local writer.” Sometimes, people in Kampala, particularly experts, flip the use of the word local, and use it with uncritical zeal. “I love their local languages! I love the local culture! I love hanging out with locals!” Please, folks, let’s find another word to get obsessed with.