My Christmas experience in the UK
Dec 18, 2008
CHOCOLATE bars, turkey, wine and twinkling Christmas lights every where announce the festive season. Carols sizzle from every home. Every shop, Harrods inclusive, announce discounts of 20-50%.
By Titus Kakembo
CHOCOLATE bars, turkey, wine and twinkling Christmas lights every where announce the festive season. Carols sizzle from every home. Every shop, Harrods inclusive, announce discounts of 20-50%.
My memory of the Christmas season in the UK takes me to South West London. Being winter it was a foggy day. That time the streets were like threads of snow and I was all alone in deserted Hanslow town. One problem I found with Britain is that all the towns look the same.
Each has a Marks & Spencer, W.H Smith and Boots outlet. And all the houses look alike. You might think they were squeezed out of a sausage machine and planted. I always wondered how residents found their way to the right box (house.) The only difference comes during Christmas day.
This is when the entrance to every home is decorated according to the owners taste. One door is bathed in glittering lights, another has an electric Father Christmas ushering passersby to walk in, and the next has an artificial cedar tree draped with sweets and cards.
That Christmas Day, all activity grounded to a halt. The London Bus and the underground train were not operational. The stations that were often full of passengers were deserted.
Cabs accessible by phone doubled all their fares to any destination. But nothing was going to stop Ugandans in the UK from getting together. Four of us (Ugandans) raised 60 pounds (sh180,000) for a taxi to drop us in East London.
Cab drivers in the UK are the finest in the world. They are trustworthy, generally friendly and always polite. They keep their vehicles spotless clean inside and out. They drop the passenger at the door of his destination. Ours was Forest Gate.
This is a locality that has been colonised by Ugandans. A group of about 10 of us, girls inclusive, had contributed a minimum of 10 pounds (sh30,000) each. Others contributed in 20 pounds (sh60,000) or 50 pounds (sh100,000).
The music was on the house. Some had come from North London. We then went on a shopping spree of Uganda traditional foods. Maganjo millet/ maize flour, smoked fish, entula, nakati, bananas and beers.
“Fosters and Stella beer is cheaper by fifty pence but on Christmas Day we choose to have Bell or Nile Special each, for starters,†said Jerry Mulumba, one of the guys at Forest Gate. “But we get Stella Artois at five pounds (sh 15,000) for six cans.â€
Without banana leaves to steam the bananas, polythene bags sufficed. And to get a resemblance of the local chicken, we shopped for a species we called Kakalubila. Come night fall, many people relocated to Akabira in Canning town, Club 19 on Upton Lane and West Tavern at Seven Sister in North London.
Here, patrons are treated to the latest Ugandan music. With U-Tube, they access every new release. Asked how they were planning to spend their Christmas this year, James Lutaya, a freelance journalist, said after the Luganda services in church, there is nothing else to do but wine, dine and laze around.
As I returned home two days after, I found Victoria Train Station swarming with lost looking tourists, lurking touts and passed out drunks. On my way, I got strangers asking for “spare changeâ€. I thought about the modern beggars in Kampala who craft a story about a lost wallet when they desperately need about sh1,000 for transport back home.
Two days after Christmas, I bought a train ticket at 10 pounds (sh30,000) and took the opportunity to tour London till midnight when it expired. Armed with the A-Z of London, I toured Richmond Rugby Village, Stains, Egham, Milton Keynes, Oxford, Hammersmith and Stratford.
Yes, I felt wonderful seeing all the houses that were built with red brick, having old-fashioned chimney pots and the kind of architecture associated with the Victorian Age.
A week after the conventional Christmas Day, some Russian housemates invited me for their version of Christmas celebration. There was a stuffed turkey, lots of wine and each of us was armed with a tumbler and a sealed bottle.
One bottle was sipped at a time. But one guest filled everybody’s glass repeatedly.
CHOCOLATE bars, turkey, wine and twinkling Christmas lights every where announce the festive season. Carols sizzle from every home. Every shop, Harrods inclusive, announce discounts of 20-50%.
My memory of the Christmas season in the UK takes me to South West London. Being winter it was a foggy day. That time the streets were like threads of snow and I was all alone in deserted Hanslow town. One problem I found with Britain is that all the towns look the same.
Each has a Marks & Spencer, W.H Smith and Boots outlet. And all the houses look alike. You might think they were squeezed out of a sausage machine and planted. I always wondered how residents found their way to the right box (house.) The only difference comes during Christmas day.
This is when the entrance to every home is decorated according to the owners taste. One door is bathed in glittering lights, another has an electric Father Christmas ushering passersby to walk in, and the next has an artificial cedar tree draped with sweets and cards.
That Christmas Day, all activity grounded to a halt. The London Bus and the underground train were not operational. The stations that were often full of passengers were deserted.
Cabs accessible by phone doubled all their fares to any destination. But nothing was going to stop Ugandans in the UK from getting together. Four of us (Ugandans) raised 60 pounds (sh180,000) for a taxi to drop us in East London.
Cab drivers in the UK are the finest in the world. They are trustworthy, generally friendly and always polite. They keep their vehicles spotless clean inside and out. They drop the passenger at the door of his destination. Ours was Forest Gate.
This is a locality that has been colonised by Ugandans. A group of about 10 of us, girls inclusive, had contributed a minimum of 10 pounds (sh30,000) each. Others contributed in 20 pounds (sh60,000) or 50 pounds (sh100,000).
The music was on the house. Some had come from North London. We then went on a shopping spree of Uganda traditional foods. Maganjo millet/ maize flour, smoked fish, entula, nakati, bananas and beers.
“Fosters and Stella beer is cheaper by fifty pence but on Christmas Day we choose to have Bell or Nile Special each, for starters,†said Jerry Mulumba, one of the guys at Forest Gate. “But we get Stella Artois at five pounds (sh 15,000) for six cans.â€
Without banana leaves to steam the bananas, polythene bags sufficed. And to get a resemblance of the local chicken, we shopped for a species we called Kakalubila. Come night fall, many people relocated to Akabira in Canning town, Club 19 on Upton Lane and West Tavern at Seven Sister in North London.
Here, patrons are treated to the latest Ugandan music. With U-Tube, they access every new release. Asked how they were planning to spend their Christmas this year, James Lutaya, a freelance journalist, said after the Luganda services in church, there is nothing else to do but wine, dine and laze around.
As I returned home two days after, I found Victoria Train Station swarming with lost looking tourists, lurking touts and passed out drunks. On my way, I got strangers asking for “spare changeâ€. I thought about the modern beggars in Kampala who craft a story about a lost wallet when they desperately need about sh1,000 for transport back home.
Two days after Christmas, I bought a train ticket at 10 pounds (sh30,000) and took the opportunity to tour London till midnight when it expired. Armed with the A-Z of London, I toured Richmond Rugby Village, Stains, Egham, Milton Keynes, Oxford, Hammersmith and Stratford.
Yes, I felt wonderful seeing all the houses that were built with red brick, having old-fashioned chimney pots and the kind of architecture associated with the Victorian Age.
A week after the conventional Christmas Day, some Russian housemates invited me for their version of Christmas celebration. There was a stuffed turkey, lots of wine and each of us was armed with a tumbler and a sealed bottle.
One bottle was sipped at a time. But one guest filled everybody’s glass repeatedly.