by Lorien E. Menhennett
One of the things I love about New York City is that you can get just about anything delivered, with minimal or no extra charge. Groceries, alcohol, and take-out food of every ethnicity you can imagine are standard fare. I take advantage of the grocery services the most often, because I hate grocery shopping. I’d much rather someone else do it for me. I happily tack on a nice tip since they carry all my bags and boxes up the stairs to my fourth-floor walk-up apartment. (No elevator.)
To my surprise, there is grocery delivery here in Uganda, too.
Lately, I’ve gotten into craft beer. I’m pretty sure they don’t have IPAs here, but lager, yes. I’d run out of the Nile (a popular beer here) that we’d gotten in Kampala. I was told that Sandra, the housekeeper where I’m staying, could have beer brought to the guesthouse. I gave her 24,000 shillings (less than $7 USD), and about 30 minutes later, there was a guy ringing the bell at our front gate, carrying a box containing six bottles of Club (another popular Ugandan beer).
A couple of days later, I discovered we’d run out of milk. I prefer half and half for my coffee, but milk will do. I texted Sandra to bring some when she came to make lunch for us. She texted back that she’d send someone with it now. In less than 10 minutes, there was a man at the front door, carrying a little black plastic sack with two pouches of pasteurized milk inside.
Talk about service.