The senses.

Smells:  The acrid smoke from burning rubbish

Cow dung

Rich woody scent of mango trees not yet in bloom

Sharp smell of body odor and sweat

Diesel exhaust from roaring lorries

Fish on the beach, minus the briny ocean breeze that I'm used to

Banana bread baking

Chemical smell of pesticide in enclosed spaces

Sounds: Roosters crowing

Muslim calls to prayer

"Sawa, sawa, sawa ye"

Ugandan dance beats

Children giggling + "Muzungu!! How are you!!"

The bleating and spitting of goats

"Eyyyyy, mami!  Your food is ready!"

Birds whose calls must emanate from some supernatural source because the noise is so impossibly bigger than the bodies they come from

Sights:  The bright orange of a rubbish fire pouring black smoke into the sky against a green green landscape

Bejeweled roosters struttin' their stuff

Women in Buganda dress, with poofy shoulders

The green.  Oh, the green.

Heavy jackfruit swaying, hanging ponderously

Red dust coating everything

Fort Portal after a fresh rain when everything is new and the wide banana tree leaves drip onto the reddish brown dirt

Quick flashes of brilliance when green bee-eaters fly by the kitchen window at the Lodge

Waxing nostalgic with Winston Churchill:

"My Journey is at an end, the tale has been told. The reader who has followed so faithfully and so far has a right to ask what message I bring back. It can be stated in three words: concentrate upon Uganda! 

Uganda is alive by itself. It is vital, and in my view, in spite of its insects and diseases, it ought, in the course of time, to become the most prosperous of all our East African possessions and perhaps the 'financial driving wheel' of this part of the world. 

Uganda is from end to end a 'beautiful garden' where 'staple food' of the people grows almost without labour. Does it not sound like a paradise on earth? It is the pearl of Africa."

Churchill, "My African Journey"

More later.  I just got back from Fort Portal and am simmering in nostalgia.  Such a sap.