Before the movie, my friend and I ate dinner at an east African place in Waltham called Karibu. Evidently, the owners, Ugandans themselves, opened the restaurant to cater to Ugandan expats living in the area. When my friend and I walked in, we were the only non-Africans in the place. There were no menus, just a buffet table, staffed by a sweet woman who explained what everything was, took our order, and then brought us plates heaped with food. The food was good, although not fantastic, hearty and clearly authentic. Some was similar to food I ate in Gabon, some not.
I loved that the whole scene was straight out of a little cafeteria that could have been anywhere in sub-Saharan Africa (but was instead in a Boston suburb). The Ugandan men were all sitting around the tables, chatting, and would occasionally get up to serve themselves something from the buffet. They conducted business on cell phones and grabbed sodas from the fridge. Two women shuttled back and forth between the buffet and the kitchen. A few fantastic t-shirts picturing the Obama family hung from the walls, along with art that I'm sure was imported from the homeland. It all brought back a lot of memories.