FotoFeb ’12: Kabalagala
(This photo does absolutely nothing to explain Kabalagala to you, but it’s the only picture I could take within respect and reason.)
Last night, I joined a big group of friends in Kabalagala, the borough of Kampala that supposedly never sleeps. As part a new series of “random acts of epic-ness,” these friends were hosting a 24-hour vigil there – just to verify if this neighborhood ever takes a break. (I only lasted from dinner time to one, so I can neither confirm or deny.)
Truth be told, there’s so much along the one major street that I wish I could have photographed for you, but couldn’t due to respect and safety. Kabalagala is full of the young and aspirationally trendy – college girls in far too short skirts avoiding young men with knock off Prada and Dolce&Gabbana logos across their chests. In that way, it’s like any city in the world at any moment.
Along the road, tired vendors rotate whole chickens under the glow of a single lightbulb to attract the peckish passersby. Hole in the wall bars pump American and local dance tracks louder and louder until each overblows its neighbor. Twinkle lights cluster amidst the few trees and balconies along the street. It’s incredible for people-watching and for getting the feel of a very specific slice of Kampala, but you’d never want to stand still for very long.
At the same time, Kabalagala seems to be one of most unsafe neighborhoods I’ve visited. Prostitutes are notoriously pushy. Muggings are frequent. I was always paranoid about my wallet/camera/phone and checked them compulsively. Thankfully, the doormen at the restaurants and bars were thorough and responsible, so I felt fairly safe.
All in all, my night out in Kabalagala – probably only my second there ever – was a ton of fun. I think my nerves will prohibit me from attending on the regular, but every once in a while it’s fun to chase the promise of a sleepless city. Maybe next time I’ll last a little longer.
