READY TO RISE AGAIN

When I first arrived, every day was super overwhelming. Don't get me wrong, some days are still pretty overwhelming but not all of them. I find I'm getting used to life here, sort of. My friend Maria and I went to a small village outside of Mbale for a weekend. I met this man named Rolex (kind of a funny name, huh) when he was helping me get my camera from customs a couple of months back and he invited me out for a visit. He and his wife Sephora are building a church, have started a parish youth program and are looking for help. I'm not sure if I'll be able to help him in any way but when I told Rolex that, he said that just being there would give the children hope and let them know people cared. Maria just came in from Sweden and I asked her if she wanted to join me.

The village is deep and very rural. The people were incredibly friendly, the children sang for hours on end and both of us were asked to speak at their Sunday church service. I went running through the back roads and heard this beautiful music...I looked around and found an old man sitting in front of his hut, strumming a little box instrument and humming along. It was so beautiful and for a brief moment, I experienced the Africa of my dreams.

Anywho, back to my initial point. I wasn't overwhelmed (in a negative way) by the experience. It was hardcore, poverty everywhere, everybody wanting something from you, a thousand muzungu shouts...but I didn't just see that. My friend Maria was experiencing this stuff for the first time and I was able to see how I must've been when I first arrived. I was also able to offer her the words I wanted to hear. She was sad, depressed, feeling bad that she couldn't solve their problems. I found myself saying things like, 'if all we can do is play games with the kids all weekend, it'll be enough' and 'yes, they want us to help but they're not pinning all their hopes on us.' It was such an interesting time. I could see the happiness of the people, despite their poverty. I could feel that they did appreciate us for being there and I even had the chance to read the prayer of Saint Francis to a group of people who have never heard of the man. Now, I do have hopes that when I get back I will be able to find a church in the States that wants to partner with the Lyama parish but I'm also starting to understand that if I can't, it's okay too. I think I am beginning to trust that things will happen as they will, that I don't have to move mountains on my own-that perhaps there are greater powers at work on the behalf of these people. That doesn't mean I will let it stop bothering me or stop trying to create change in my world -it just means that I'm beginning to see my place in the world.

Life is pretty packed here. So many things happen in one day that I want to share with people. A lizard crawled on my bed. Haven't seen any roaches but I have a slug problem, gross. I haven't been sick in over a month-fingers crossed I didn't just jinx myself. I'm still really scared about lots of random things. Can't get the chigger/jigger out of my toe, Michelle is going to help. Went back to the prison, taught the ladies how to make cinndazi ( I love mandazi so much that I came up with a cinnamon version and taught it to Tespista and the prison ladies in hopes that they might make some money off the idea). I'm really enjoying my work with Bead for Life, feel like I'm doing something valuable with my time and have the beginnings of a killer bead collection. There is a toilet seat on top of my latrine hole, so I don't have to crouch down when I go to the loo. JIM Centre has built a new fence and a new room with some of the money that you donated. I have officially gained weight and I am still Americanized enough to hate it when Ugandans point it out (they love it and feel it's a compliment). My friend Larry went back to the States and sold me his camera before he left, such a good man. The neighborhood kids have gotten pretty used to me and sit on my lap, hang out at my place and mock me when I'm doing yoga. And they let me hug them whenever I want. My brother just bought his ticket to meet me in August, we're going on safari. Some days I miss home so much it physically hurts, other moments I can't imagine how I'll ever leave.

Africa remains the same, dusty, dirty, depressing, beautiful, hopeful, full of potential. It's me that has changed.

P.S. For the sake of journalistic integrity...In case you got the impression from this entry that I was a happy little spirit, always full of joy and positive energy, only seeing the good...I'm not. I think I have two spirits in me, one positive beautiful creature and one poisonous negative beast-I'm just choosing to feed one over the other. Today.