A short lesson for Americans: In Uganda, you move from place to place. Saying: “Man, we really moved today.” Is like visiting Mpererwe, Kyebando, Kalerwe, Kamwokya, and Katanga in the same day–which was my Tuesday. I was covered in dust. The rains haven’t come for almost two months. It’s been all sunshine and evaporation. The dust is like red fog on the road. When you bathe, the water runs red into the drain. And, on that day, I shifted.
My dusty walk through Kamwokya
In Uganda, you shift when you “move.” I’ve been spending about the last week with my host family, the Edakasi’s, from 2007. They’ve become some of my dearest friends, and I’ll be sharing many pictures and stories from our time together as I continue to reflect here. But, on Tuesday, I shifted, carrying my suitcase to the FOCUS office, where I went from for my rounds of visits. At the end of the day, and after a lot of conversation with my former supervisor, Audrey, I called a trusted boda boda driver, and took to the offices of Bishop David Zac Niringiye, where I would find him and eventually go to his family’s home.
I could dedicate the rest of this entry about Zac, and how he mentored me in 2007 when I was at a very seminal moment in my life and continues to mentor me even now. And, I probably will dedicate some entry down the line to exactly that. But, for your sake, I’ll stick to the narrative.
I looked like a complete anomaly on the back of that motorcycle. One hand wrapped around the carry-on bag-sized suitcase and another hand holding on the back of the seat. Something that is not altogether that strange to see in Kampala; after all, I’ve seen riders on boda boda carrying a windshield and a TV just in the last week–not to mention the ridiculous cargo I saw in ’07. It’s the strangeness of seeing an American, I’d imagine, that garnered the looks of disbelief.
But, I arrived, dust-covered and smiling, to All Saints’ Cathedral in Nakasero and waited outside the Bishop’s office. When he arrived, he wrapped his arms around me and said, “Welcome back, Jo-el.”
There is that sense of belonging, I’ll admit. As we’ve passed homes and neighborhoods as we’ve gone out visiting the kids that I used to work with, I’ve commented, “Doesn’t Emmanuel live there?” or “If we branch this way, won’t we get to Juuko’s home?” And, I’ve surprised myself. It became a part of who I am, and it still is.
Pen & Pad on the Veranda
And, having the space of the Niringiye’s home in Namirembe has been such a respite for me to write and reflect on those sensations of being somewhere you belong. I’ve spent early afternoons taking tea and journaling, and despite the recently personal, narrative entries in this particular blog, I won’t be sharing those thoughts here.
The view helps with the clarity of mind, too
But, taking in the view, letting myself relax, playing table tennis with Zac in the morning, losing horribly, sitting on the couch with Aunt Theo, sharing stories about the kids in the Project, talking with their son and daughter about “UgEnglish,” watching the World Cup together, all of it makes me feel like everything belongs.
Laughing with Theo
Instead of overdoing it with this lengthy entry, I’ll just say this and finish here: there are people that simply being with will lend you clarity and give you that keen sense of belonging. And, I’m finding that in Kampala, I have a whole lot of those good people, and it’s making being here as complete a set of two weeks I’ve felt in years.
Your post quiets me and excites me to return next month! Thanks for writing this one! Can’t wait to hear more about ur time there and how much has changed.
There’s not really much that I can add in any comment I write, so this makes me feel rather silly, but…well, these entries are beautiful and feel like home.
I’m glad you found a place like this, and I hope you find yourself in Uganda for many more weeks in your life.
I would so love to get back to Kampala someday and be able to simply sit and soak up everything including that deep red dust.
I’m really enjoying your reflections so far. It’s resurrecting some of my own almost-lost memories of my brief time over there.
It’s still nearly unbelievable to me that our paths crossed the way they did there in Kamwokya three years ago.
The wonderful thing about this big blue world is there are many places we can feel a kinship and place of belonging.
It may surprise most Americans that you feel the connection in a place as far off as Uganda – but it is spectacular that you have found it. Imagine all the people who never leave their zip codes. Never feel like they belong anywhere- even in their little boxes that they THINK bring them comfort. Fear.
You are one of the lucky – most will never fully understand the amazing and soaring feelings you are now swimming in. I hope to see some of that red dust on your soles (soul) when you return.