It is so hard to believe that I have spent slightly over four weeks here in this beautiful city and am ready to move on to stage 2 of the GoEd experience: Practicum. I will be going to Ethiopia with Kristen, Tessa, Suzy, and Eli. As of now, I still don’t know what city or village I will be in. But I look forward to experiencing a totally new culture and group of people.
The past few days have been harder for me emotionally, as I have been away from home for over a month and am missing my dear family and friends.
How strange it is to be away from all that is comfortable, yet surrounded by people who genuinely care about me. I want to be there, I want to be here. I want to run around the kitchen and cook with my mommy, yet I delight in teaching new recipes to Grace, who cooks for us here in Uganda. I love the sights and sounds and smells and tastes of Kampala, yet at times I am overwhelmed by the crowded streets and the passersby calling out "Muzungu"- the Lugandan word for foreigner. I crave silence, I crave company. I have so many emotions, yet I am numb.
I enjoy the novels we are reading for African literature, but despise answering the questions, and reading the never-ending list of articles. I was surprised when the overpowering odor of gasoline filled our classroom on Monday morning and we had to evacuate the building, continuing our class on a concrete slab and then in our bus. Dr. Mpagi has no idea how many notes were passed during that class period . Our afternoon literature class was held here at the guest house, and I watched out the window in awe as a beautiful thunderstorm filled the western sky.
My feet are constantly encrusted with dirt from wearing sandals all the time, and scrubbing them in the shower doesn't seem to do much good. My hair loves the warm and humid weather and the curls bounce happily as I go through the day. My shoulders are peeling for the first time that I remember. I am energized by the runs I enjoy with Suzy and Jenny, but sore from our ab workouts. We haven't played football (soccer) or Ultimate Frisbee for a few days, and I miss playing. I will greatly miss the large group when we are split up for practicum.
I am excited to move to Ethiopia next week, but also scared because it will be a change. This guesthouse has become a home. The living room is covered in papers and books and computers, the bedrooms piled with the stuff of living. The jars of peanut butter and Nutella disappear at an extraordinary rate as we feed our cravings for comfort food. We each have our own little idiosyncrasies and we have been learning attitudes of humility, service, and love.
Our Monday evening worship services continue to be times of encouragement and honesty as we sing choruses, pray and reflect on our lives together. We have some amazing talent in our group and our singing is breathtakingly beautiful at times.
This past weekend a few girls and I went to a campground for a weekend retreat. We stayed in a darling little banda (cabin) and hiked around on various trails, observing the monkeys and other unfamiliar sights, sounds, and smells of the Mabira Forest.
Yesterday afternoon I went to the slums with Kristen, Ryan, and Jenny. I don’t really know what I was expecting, but I definitely wasn’t expecting what I saw. When we arrived, our friend Jess was treating a boy who had been burnt this past weekend. He was very drunk and fell into a pot of scalding oil. We watched the young boys getting high on random substances that they sniff. What touched me the most is WHY these children are living in the slums. Many of them have run away from their families because of abuse or simply being fed up with being required to do housework. This lack of familial love seems to me to be the definition of true poverty.
May I never take for granted the wealth of relationships. Thanks to all of you who love me and pray for me!
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