The Many Odors of Jinja

One of my weakest senses is my sense of smell. Because of that I occasionally miss out on the fresh whiff of a floral arrangement, but usually my lack of smell is more of a blessing than a curse (if you know what I mean). But this week, I have been sick with the flu which has perked up my lagging fifth sense. My nose is hyper-sensitive to any sniff, and let me tell you, Uganda is not the place you want to revive your aroma-meter. Everything here has a stench. Half the time I’m walking down the street this week I have to plug up my nostrils so my gag-reflex doesn’t kick in. I won’t get too graphic, but I will point out some of the major offenders:


Burning Trash-I’ve heard rumors that Americans have left Uganda with serious lung problems due to this environmental hazard. The odor is as repugnant to my nostrils as the air is to my lungs.


Cesspools of Standing Water-Divots in mud roads gather sour puddles after a rain storm.



The Fish Aisle at the Market-Even when just shopping for sunglasses, the fish aisle always conveniently wafts its way over to me.


Chicken feasting on Piles of Trash-It’s better than burning trash, but piles of garbage out in the open doesn’t produce a fragrant smell.

Body Odor-Deodorant isn’t widely used here, simple as that.

I can’t wait for my stomach bug to leave. I wait for the day when my dull sense of smell returns back to normal.