My blog has experienced one of these temporary paralyses that plague all avenues of expression when the person voicing the message is either too preoccupied with something or not engaged enough in anything. Perhaps I am both. I’ve been very busy writing the last chapter of my dissertation, but simultaneously I could not describe the past month as very eventful. Routine, mostly, spiced by a few rare flashes of the extraordinary.

One of the latter took place on a Monday when I attended another Hash run by the Kampala HHH. Due to an insane traffic jam, I arrived at this school in Mengo (a western Kampala suburb and a former capital of the Buganda kingdom) half an hour late. Luckily, for precisely that purpose the organizers always mark any route turns with chalk, so I set out running through the slums alone, hoping to catch the group at some point. I did eventually. And it was a very interesting experience without the group as a protective shield. I was pleased to notice that despite dozens of people yelling something as I trotted along, I heard nothing malicious or even remotely threatening. It is a much less pleasant experience to run through a poor neighborhood in one of the First World countries that have a strict division of wealth.

Sometimes blogging reminds me of what a former Finnish president (as I quite subjectively think I remember) said about art, namely that it requires two things: one should have (1) something to say and (2) the ability to say it. Given how low the standard for (2) is generally set on (or by) the Internet, opening one’s mouth seems to depend almost solely on (1). Perhaps not even that. A lot of people are very content saying things that amount to nothing; perhaps the medium is pulling us all in that direction.

If I am coming out of hibernation now, it is because something concrete enough has happened for it to stand as an obvious subject for an entry. The next entry, that is. 08:55