Greetings from the Mother Land,
I have finished my internship with MACRO. It was an incredible experience and I feel like I did some good work for them. I spent the last week there rolling beads and laughing with the friends I have made. They made sure that I was aware that they were sad about me leaving. They kept saying some thing about Goodbyes being so hard. I feel great. I've said so many goodbyes in the past couple of years it doesn't feel painful anymore. I see it less like a loss and more like a transition. Yes, I am leaving Mukono, but I am moving on the next exciting part of my life. Each new experience that comes brings me new faces and new stories. So instead of goodbye, I am saying hello to the next stage of my life.
I spent the weekend at home alone. It was a wonderful way to wrap up the personal journey that I have made here. Who knows when then next time I'll be completely alone will be. Probably never. I wrote my paper, lounged around the house in my PJ's, listened to loud music, read my book
and ate as many rolexs as possible. Rolexs are chapattis with an omelet in them. It’s the only thing that actually tastes delicious here and I eat them everyday.
Yesterday I went into Kampala with my African goddess of a friend, Regina. I'm absolutely in love with this girl and wish I could bring her home. Her best friend had a baby during the night, so we went to see her. In any other place, I would have been imposing on this new mother's personal space. Not in Africa! This women was overjoyed to let me hold her new baby that was only hours old. As soon as a looked into her bright, clear eyes, I started to cry. She was so incredibly beautiful. Ohhhh...babieeesss.
Anyways, I feel like I am ready for the next step. May always brings so many changes. This time, it brings me to the end of my LeapYear experience. Goodbye to Africa and hello to Vermont. It also brings me into the beginning of my adult life. I turn twenty on Sunday the 13th! I am such an old geezer.
Jillian comes to Uganda in three days. It’s going to be so
Meriam, Emma, Candy
good to have her with me. I think it will make my re-entry to the states that much smoother. I'm making small steps towards being home again
I wrote this the other day and thought I would throw it in here for funzies: 4-27-07
I close my eyes in Uganda and I drift into a deep sleep on Martha’s Vineyard. I roll over in the Gatto Bunk house and try not to wake my boyfriend as we sleep in his dorm room at The University of Vermont. I blink to clear my vision and I am staring at the walls that have housed me since birth. The alarm beeps. Its 7:30 A.M in Guatemala and I have to go to language class. I hit the snooze button on my cell phone one more time, but it’s too late the sounds of New York City have woken me up. Wait, where am I again?
I counted the other day; I’ve gone to bed in nine different states and seven different countries in the past two years. Come to think of it, I haven’t called a single bed “home” for more then two weeks since the day I graduated high
school. I am a nomadic warrior. I have mastered the art of sleeping. In busses, planes and cars, with rats, spiders, cockroaches, strangers, lovers, friends, on soft mattresses, cement floors, someone’s shoulder, couches, dog mats, deflated air mattresses, tents and bunk beds. I’ve conquered them all. I’ve been exhausted, alone, confused about the time difference, passed out, almost too excited to sleep, or wrapped in the arms of a loved one. Is it night time? Who knows?
Most of the time, I have no idea where I am when I open my eyes. It’s not scary, like when I was little and couldn’t find my mother. It’s just my life. I have chosen the path of the wanderer. I rise each day in wonder. As my feet carry me to my next resting place, I gather the world before my eyes. Be it a familiar place I visit or unknown, it has a gift for me. As I fall asleep, wherever that may be, that gift finds its place in my heart. Forever within me, these years fuel my vagrant spirit onward to my next destination.
Where is my home? I’ve heard it’s where the heart is. Or
The boys who sell me tomatos
its bath time at the veggie stand
was that just a book I read in middle school? Perhaps those words have truth to them. I may wander, but I have found home in each of these nine states and seven countries. It is in the people who have cared for me and the meals I have shared. It is knowing that I lay under the same stars on the beach in Costa Rica as I do by the bonfire in my field in Vermont. It is in the song that comforts me when I am alone and it is the resting place of my journal. I was born in Bellows Falls, but I was re-born in California. Indeed, home is where the heart is.
As each day passes, my direction becomes clearer. I’m headed towards home. Only this time the bed that I rest in will not trick me when I wake up. I’m ready to rest in stability. I’m a weary traveler and my body tells me its time to rest. Slowly, I am headed back to my roots. Vermont is a wonderful place to wake up. I’ll surely find home there. The sun sets in Uganda. I see my footprints trailing behind me into
the red earth. They wind throughout the world, crossing famous rivers and gaining wisdom with each step.
Two weeks to go...
As always, all my love!
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