First World Problems

I'm pretty sure that experiencing PTSD for something you've never even been through counts as a first world problem. Let me explain.

Last week Lori and I went down to Kampala for our Safari. We were really excited and were treating it as our Africa vacation. The only problem was that I wasn't feeling well before we left. And usually my health tends to get worse when I travel. So I got a priesthood blessing from the elders here and we set off on the post-bus early on Monday morning. It took about 6 hours or so to get from Gulu down to Kampala and then from there we walked to the craft market so that we could pick up some gifts etc. That was really fun and afterwards we were able to take the shuttle to Red Chili Hideaway- the headquarters for our safari. We spent the night in a dorm room and the next morning we left early in our safari jeep. We were paired with a couple young women from California who were on a work trip (they study malaria prevention) as well as a German mother/daughter duo who were very nice. To my surprise our driver, Noor announced that it would take us about 7 hours to get to our destination. I was like WHA? I had thought it would only be like three or four hours. As we drove I was starting to not feel my best again but it was whatever.

We finally arrived at the first leg of our safari which was Kalinzu Forrest Reserve where we went chimp tracking! After an early morning and long day in the car I wasn't quite in my peak hiking condition. But I was super excited to go into an African forest and see chimps! So our guide lead us into the woods and at first we were just on this beautiful path going up and down hills. I imagined myself as some sort of fictional character- Katniss Everdeen, or Jane from Tarzan-- someone epic!

Then, in our attempts to find the chimps, our guide starting off-roading it. We got to a point where we were literally bush-whacking. The guide had a machete up in front of us and was just hacking away at things and we were following and tripping over logs and stones and ferns and running into branches. I kept falling down-it was very humbling. We saw giant millipedes the size of tiny snakes and I got my bun stabbed by a branch at least once. The guide was going SO fast that it was all I could do to keep up with him and not fall down. I couldn't even enjoy the beauty around me! I was just so focused on not holding everyone up!

Well, we did get to see chimps which was pretty awesome (and a good opportunity for me to take a swig of water!). They were climbing in the trees above us and we got to follow them pretty closely for a little bit. It's crazy to think that they were just wild chimps with nothing between us and them! (Although they are practically domestic considering how well those guides know them).

Somewhere throughout this I started to not feel good. I felt like a weakling because I couldn't keep up. And then I started suspecting that it was more than just being out of shape. But I wasn't sure if that was an excuse or not. I started thinking things like ...."if I had diarrhea right here would it disturb the natural habitat?" I thought about having the intern-guide-girls take me back to the start. It was not fun anymore.

At some point on the second half of that journey I realized what character I was actually playing out as I stumbled, exhausted, through that forest afraid I was going to be sick. It all really solidified as we finally emerged out of the trees at the end of our path and I asked to hold the guide's machete and gripped it in my hand.

I kept myself together for the next couple hours as we drove to our campsite and received our orientation. I was talking with everyone and acting totally normal. But my temperature was increasing and I felt achy. When we finally were able to go into our safari tent I went through a sudden and kind of terrifying transformation that freaked Lori out. As soon as we got to our tent I immediately laid down on my cot and just started crying-more like sobbing actually. I was so cold even though I had so many layers on. I started hyperventilating. I had no appetite. I felt disgusting. And I finally told Lori what that trek through the jungle had reminded me of- child soldiers.

I've done a lot of research about the child soldiers kidnapped by the Lord's Resistance Army in Northern Uganda. I've interviewed a lot of former child soldiers and heard first hand accounts. Natural empathy combined with exhaustion and the fatigue of fever brought out a small portion of the horror that those children experienced for me in a new, un-ignorable way. I had heard their stories, but I have a talent for keeping things theoretical and academic. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to work with a post-conflict population. Now, in a very small way, I was feeling their stories.

That day, hiking through Kazinga forest, things got a little more real for me and I experienced in the slightest, whitest way what those brave, desperate children went through. I carried a 1.5 liter water bottle in a backpack-the girls in the LRA carried their own babies on their backs through the bush. I felt sick but was embarrassed to hold others up- those children could have been beaten or shot for stopping. I was here in Uganda eating unfamiliar food that upset my stomach- they were living away from home off stolen crops and foraged morsels. I held branches back for the person behind me- they held machetes. I paid a lot of money to be there-they were kidnapped.

The Lord's Resistance Army wasn't in southwestern Uganda where I went on this hike- they operated up north. But once they were kicked out of the country they've hidden a lot in the jungles of the Central African Republic or the Congo. Laying in bed, crying in that fancy safari tent, it hit home to me once again just how unfair life is. Why is it that I was born into a life of so much privilege while others inherit so much suffering? We are all children of God and any blessings I have come from Him- have I been honoring the privileged circumstances that He has given me to lift others?

I don't know how any of it works. I don't know how it is decided who will be born where or what trials they will face. But I do know that the Lord was and is acutely aware of the people in Northern Uganda. And, as Lori reminded me, I know that through the atonement of Jesus Christ all that is unfair in this life will be made right. The atonement isn't just for sin. It is for all pain and injustice--it's for children who've had their innocence stolen from them. It's even for weak little me who can't handle one small hike in the forrest.

I don't really know what I can say that won't be cheesy so I'll just end by saying this: Evil is real. Though my direct exposure to it has been small, it is undeniable. But, because of the atonement, goodness is stronger. And in that I rejoice.

Jumanji House

Due to the fact that I seem incapable of keeping an up-to-date sequential blog I will attempt to record this experience in Africa topically.

This post is dedicated to my current residence. We call it "Churchill Mansion" because it is this huge house on the hill right across from the LDS branch building where we attend church and it's near a hotel called Churchill Courts. We have also referred to it as a haunted mansion. Let me explain.

When we first got to Gulu we were staying in this place called Cosmo Guest House in the Center of Town. It wasn't bad- they had free Omelets and toast every morning plus unlimited access to toilet paper and hot showers if you planned ahead right. The downside was that the room was tiny, Lori and I had to share a small bed that sloped down in the middle so that it was a constant effort to keep any space between us and it was just as expensive as staying somewhere bigger in the long run.

Cosmo Guest House

So we started looking for places. We asked the senior missionaries here, the Taylors who we quickly became friends with. They got into a funny situation with a broker showing them around and increasing the money chain. They showed us one of the places they found though which they called 'The Palace.' Oh boy, it really was a palace! It was out far away from town so we would have had to get bikes to go back and forth but it was super nice with a guard and a wonderful view of the countryside. Lori and I felt weird about it though because it was just too nice. We called a random number we saw on the side of the road advertising houses- bad idea. It was just another broker who wanted money from us. When we finally told Rom (our sales manager and my friend of about 3 years) about our situation he swooped in and fixed it all for us. He set it up so that we could see a house that one of the MPs (member of parliament) owned but wasn't using in Senior Quarters, a nice part of town.

Sketchy number we called. The guy who met up with us kept telling us how much he wanted to marry a white woman. 

We got there and I was NOT impressed. It's this big house (well very big for Africa not actually THAT big) but with a huge, tiered lawn and so that's cool. But the inside was TRASHED. There were random clothes and stuff and a huge dead bug in the shower and the bed was used and it was just gross. I was like ....... not feeling it.

Well, long story short beggars can't be choosers and that house actually ended up being the one that worked out. We had spent so many days and so much energy calling people and trying to make something happen that we were just ecstatic to move in somewhere other than our increasingly smelly hotel room (we wouldn't leave a key for people to clean it because we didn't want our stuff to get stolen). So we moved in on a Monday night, I think two weeks ago. We made sure with the housekeeper who lives in a hut right next to the house outside the gate that she had washed the sheets on the bed. She said she had but she doesn't speak much English so, I don't think she lied exactly but subsequent experience has unearthed evidence that probably those sheets were not washed.

As night fell, we had the lights in the house on and we started noticing huge moths about three or four inches long. They were lazy, lilting, moths and Lori easily walked around stepping on them to kill them. But it seemed that for every moth killed two more magically appeared! It was freaky but Lori told me to stop yelping. So when I went to the bathroom and closed the door I very calmly opened it again to tell Lori that there was a lizard behind the door. Ever the calm warrior, Lori grabbed a cup or something to trap the lizard in and made an attempt. Unfortunately the lizard scuttled into our room and disappeared. There was a major ant infestation behind the small sink in the living room. We didn't think too much of it and we weren't planning on sweeping up the moths until the next morning since it was getting late but then we realized that a SWARM of ants had surrounded one of the dead moths near Lori's chair and were preparing to carry it away. This sent Lori on a toilet paper mission to pick up all the dead moths and throw them outside. I grabbed the broom and started sweeping the ants in different directions trying to confuse their collective memory.

We were like "where are these things coming from?!" and then I looked up and there was this huge square hole in the ceiling of the hallway. We were like you'vegottabekiddingme (we've since found out that's actually kind of normal). But it's also worth mentioning that this house has no hot water, no stove or oven and the kitchen sink doesn't work 98% of the time. Oh and also it cost 1.3 million. Shillings.

Well, we locked ourselves in for the night by literally locking the gates of our house together with a chain link and external lock. We set up our mosquito net tent and slept on top of the disgusting blanket. Somehow, irrational as it is, we felt safe from the moths and ants and the lizard inside that mosquito net. I was scared of the house though and when we woke up in the morning to the cheery African sunshine, without incident it felt like a minor miracle that we had survived the first night in what had turned out to be a freakin Jumanji house.

Our cozy bed. There are actually two bedrooms in the house but the other bedroom is creepy.
 So we both just sleep in here.

Since that crazy evening, things have gotten better at the haunted Churchill Mansion. We found the lizard agin and Lori caught it and forced it outside. There are two more lizards in the house, though. The moths have gone away. We found a dead beetle in the corner randomly. The ants were getting ready to carry it away but we put a stop to that. Another day I got up after Lori. When I opened the bedroom door I saw another one of those dead beetles in front of me. I told Lori and, good friend that she is, she grabbed some toilet paper to pick it up and throw it away. To my horror the bug scuttled away when she reached for it and ran under our bed. I was subsequently afraid to stand near the bed-though strangely still felt pretty much fine in bed.

I would say the crowning asset of this mansion of ours is that this morning I wasn't feeling good so I stayed in bed for awhile. I felt something under the sheets. It was small and square shaped. I pulled it out from under the bed sheet- yep. It was unopened condemn. Just hanging out in bed with us. It wouldn't seem like that big a deal except that...those sheets probably weren't washed...after someone had sex in that bed! (Insert mental image of me vomiting).

Anyway, that is the story of how Lori and I came to be living in a house that is simultaneously too nice and too crappy for a couple of American students.

Gnarly grasshopper in our yard. That thing was huge! 

Huge caterpillar on the street- just to give a sense of the size of things here

I felt kind of sick today but didn't want to hang out in the condemn bed so I went outside and this is a picture of our patio roof with the huge radio tower next to it. This is right about the place where I sat on a bee. Yep that happened. I panicked and had to moon Lori so she could take a look at my butt and make sure the stinger wasn't stuck in there! #bonding

Our top of the line stove. We have a lighter and some charcol and some kerosene. That's a yard landscapping pot type thing that we tipped over to and the fire goes inside of it. Takes awhile for things to boil. 

Basically, life is awesome! I'm scared of my own floor, the couch smells terrible and I've taken to not closing the door when I go to the bathroom because I like to have an escape route! 

"Are We Cool Enough To Be Here?" and Other Legitimate Concerns in London

Greetings from Gulu Uganda! 

I've been quite tardy on my blog posts but first things first- and that is, the ever charming, always magical, totally worth it 23 HOUR LAYOVER IN LONDON!

One of my very favorite places in the world

It was so fun. And I'll tell you why. Well, to start out with our flight to London was good. Lori and I got to sit next to each other which was good for a lot of reasons but especially because it meant that we could try to sleep on each other since the flight was overnight. I think I actually slept a fair amount. We got off the flight and got through customs pretty quickly. The man that inspected my passport at customs was like, “how are you doing, miss?” (or something generic) and I just looked at him and was dumbstruck for a split second. I was just like hot boy...british accent...overstimulated. 

We got our luggage and got out onto the tube. It was surreal to be in England- especially for Lori. We took the Picadilly line into town. After a little while this older man got on and he had a guitar slung over his shoulder. Lori asked him if he was going to play something for us. He was like, “see, I was and then I wasn’t and then I was.” We got him going and then it turns out he is a street performer-type person. He just broke out playing and singing John Denver. He was yee-haw-ing and everything! It was so cute. Lori got a video and he got some change from the crowd. Turns out he is from Ireland and is a bit of a traveling troubador. He has a sister that lives in Worcester! So that was kind of a fun Boston connection. 

When we got into town we had some tricky staircases but of course a British man just popped out of nowhere to help me carry my suitcase. Lori was freaked out by it at first just like I was awhile ago when it first happened to me, but apparently English men are, generally, quite gentlemanly because men carrying my suitcase has happened to me a lot in London. We got to our hotel without too much trouble and it was... NICE.

The view from ground level at night

Holy cow, I’ve never stayed somewhere that nice before! It was incredible. It was kind of a splurge for us but we got a good deal and we decided it was worth it to have a safe place for all of our stuff and a quick commute within the city since we were there for such a short time. So we stayed at the Double Tree by Hilton next to the Tower of London. We walked up to it and as soon as we came in this handsome boy (a worker) offered to take our bags. We were like, “umm, yeah” totally overwhelmed with the fanciness of the place. We went to check in at the desk and THAT guy was really cute too. As we talked I was getting kind of stressed out with trying to find my passport and then out of nowhere he was like, “And here is a warm cookie for you!” and handed us both cookies. We were like, “….why thank you!” After cleaning up a bit we HIT THE TOWN! 

First, we took the tube to Westminster station. We wandered around Big Ben and parliament and Lori basically just delighted in taking a million pictures which was fun--she has never been outside of North America before! After wandering around the area a bit we figured we were already close to Hyde Park so we would just walk to the visitors’ center which was one of our top priorities of what to see when we got to England (Lori’s idea since the Portable Visitors' Center which we both worked on in Boston was largely inspired by Hyde Park's visitor center)

Great stalker pic of some Epic London fashion

The bus says "I heart Mormon" advertising the Book of Mormon musical so this was supposed to be me being like, "no way, me too!"

most photogenic phone booth in London

Near Westminster. That building behind me reminds me of Kings College at Cambridge

Outside Buckingham Palace!

Some more great fashion. Almost look like they could be missionaries from behind--it only missionaries dressed that well!

Well we set out walking annnnddd.... ONE. HOUR. LATER. we finally caught cite of the visitors’ center. We wandered around for forever! We kept asking people for directions which was actually really fun and funny. I think it’s the mission history that makes us not scared of talking to strangers  We noticed a peculiar pattern that the men were REALLY nice to us. It was fun but also a little unnerving. Lori summed it up best when she said, “I don’t know if it’s because I’m pretty, American, or because I have a $1,000 camera around my neck.” Haha, so true. We met some seriously CUTE guys. No one had heard of the Hyde Park chapel or visitors’ center, haha. So we wandered a lot and we were getting pretty fatigued.

Passed some footballers in Hyde Park

A random waiter let us use his smartphone to look up the address 

Finally, we found it. We introduced ourselves to the missionaries at the Visitors' Center and when they heard where we were traveling to they kept getting excited and being like, ‘we have a sister here from Uganda.’ So finally this beautiful African sister comes around the corner and we talk to her and I asked where she was from and she said the North and I was like…"where north?"

TURNS OUT SHE IS FROM GULU! She joined the church like 5 years ago and now she’s on a mission. It’s incredible! When I heard that she was from Gulu I just stepped forward and gave her a big hug. She was so cute. I offered to take any letters or anything to her family for her and she was excited. She and her companion showed us around the visitors’ center which was fun to see since it served as such an inspiration for the PVC. They left while we watched a long movie and it was really cheesy but it also really moved me. So that was a fun little spiritual boost to start the trip. We were there up until closing time and we got a set of scriptures and a note from Sister Apiyo to take to her family. I’m really glad that we get to do that for her because she has only been out 3 months which is kind of a hard point on the mission like…am I seriously going to do this for 15 more months?! 

we seriously walked SO LONG before we found it! 

I'm so glad to be on this adventure with Lori. We are trying to really make this a spiritual undertaking. We want to help the people of Uganda to have better lives through jobs and access to light. That seems like the Lord's work to us. 

Sister Apiyo is right next to me. Isn't she beautiful? Her companion was so cute too! Great missionaries.

After that it was late and we still had hardly eaten anything all day. But we hadn’t really been that tired or that consciously thirsty or hungry and we hadn’t had to seek out any public bathrooms. It was kind of weird actually. I told Lori that I felt immortal. It was like I had been cleansed of my human bodily needs! Well, we decided to go to Picadilly Circus at that point because it was something cool to see that would be ‘open’ late. So we took the tube there and that was fun to get a look of that at night. We really needed to find somewhere to eat and after some searching ended up at an Italian place. We were really quiet at that point cause we were so hungry so I think we looked kind of weird to the staff. At the end, this adorable blond English bloke came up for us to pay and then he sat down to talk to us which was unnerving because Lori had just told me that I had pesto in my teeth. The cute English guy was like, “so, are you girls going out tonight?” Me and Lori were so awkward. I said something about having a flight the next day. Afterwards Lori and I were laughing about what we were really thinking. She was like, “um…we…are out?” Haha, that’s about as “out” as it gets for us. 

Another thing that we noticed (again and again) was the impeccable fashion that many London men had. Ugh, just incredible. We got some nice stalker pics of course. After food and a little souvenir shopping we took the tube home and went straight up to the sky lounge where there is this fantastic view of Tower Bridge. Well, when we stepped off the elevator and got on the floor and saw a couple walk past us looking nice and heard the club music I turned to Lori and was like, “are we cool enough to be here?” I had to gather my courage to go in to the bar area and it was super crowded (it was Friday night) and the balcony had apparently closed at midnight so we couldn’t go out. We took a look and left. Then we went back to the room, unwinded, said our ‘companionship’ prayer (we are calling this companionship 2.0) and went to bed. 

HE WASNT EVEN POSING FOR US

The next morning was it's own adventure. We went up to the sky room in the morning to get some pictures with tower bridge in the background and then we packed up and left. Lori had originally thought we were leaving early when I suggested the time on Friday night but it’s a really good thing that we left early. The entrance to the tube station just down the road from out hotel was closed! We were like, no problem, must just be this entrance so we went around to the other side. Nope. We really didn’t know what to do and we had these HUGE bags with us. We finally got on a bus and the driver was kind enough to let me get on for free since my cards weren’t working and I didn’t have an oyster card. We got off at the nearest tube stop where he had told us to stop—that one was closed too. Luckily the next closest one was down the street. It was pretty painstaking getting everything up and down stairs at the metro. And all of our prince chartings from the day before seemed to be hung over because we were not getting much help. 

View From the top of the hotel! 

admittedly zoomed in a bit but this is the view from our hotel!
That's the Tower of London right in front of tower bridge! 

Here's the beautiful Lori for reference point as to how far we were

Lori had a panic attack at one point thinking we were going the wrong way on the train so we got off but it turned out we were going the right way. So we had to wait to get back on. Then we didn’t know which terminal we were at. We got off at the stop for 1,2,3 but it turns out we were at 5 so we had to take the airport tram there (we turned a corner and saw that we were about to miss a train so I was like “hurry!” and not only did Lori and I start running but everyone around us too) and then we hurried to check our bags (which Lori had some trouble with) and then go through security. Our stuff had to be personally checked because I forgot to take some liquids out and Lori didn’t take any liquids out. Turns out that was a bad idea because they are really anal about liquids at Heathrow!  Lori's experience was SO LONG because it turns out she had hidden applesauce packets ALL OVER HER BAGS. So she had to pull like all her stuff out and she was getting a proper que behind her who were not happy. It was fine though. We got through security, and found our gate on the basement level. When we went down the escalator we popped out to see that there were like an a,b,c,d gate all under the same number. The Entebbe flight said “now closing” as its status so I started running and Lori followed me. We made it! We promptly got ushered into a airport bus because our plane was far away. We got on the plane. I sat next to a nice Congolese priest who lives in London. Lori was stuck further back in a middle seat. 

We made it into Uganda safe and sound. Some other BYU students were nice enough to let us crash at their place for a few days--we got in at like 2 in the morning! My body celebrated by developing a nasty jet-lag-cold that lasted for days. But that's a story for another time! For now I will just say that I absolutely love London. It was good to be back. 

and that's a wrap!

Immunization

          In my mission we have a set of things we are supposed to do to help a person who has already agreed to a be baptized on a certain date like contacting them daily, making sure they read the scriptures, planning the baptismal program, etc. One of the essential things we are supposed to do is called ‘immunizing.’ 

          Immunizing is when you warn the person who has accepted baptism that there will almost certainly be resistance to their decision. When someone makes a good decision that will affect their eternal happiness they often experience adversity. This may come in the form of disapproval from family, problems at work, a crisis of faith, or what might usually be perceived as general ‘bad luck.’ 

          See, people are way more dependent on ‘signs’ than they think they are. So when someone experiences all these hardships after they make the commitment to be baptized they often think that these are bad omens or sign from God telling them to change their path. Well, of course, I would argue that the opposite is true. The devil doesn’t worry too much about people who are content with their current relationship (or lack of) with Jesus Christ. The devil is more concerned with those who are moving towards light. He wants to stop us in our progress. 

          I experienced this exact phenomenon after I made the decision to come on my mission. After I got my mission call life just seemed to move into the fast lane for me with opportunities to postpone or forgo my mission popping out of the woodwork. I was overwhelmed with a lot of distractions and couldn’t think clearly. Luckily, the Lord didn’t give up on my and gave me the undeniable prompting that, whether I liked it or not, I needed to go on my mission.

          So I did. And that was probably one of the top 5 best decisions I’ve ever made. 

          And then I had to go home. The realization,  actualization and aftermath of this return journey have resulted in a rather uncomfortable bout of cognitive dissonance.

          I’m kind of tempted to think that I am entitled to a bit more ‘immunization’ than I got for this transition. I mean, when we come into the field they give the missionaries this pamphlet thing called ‘Adjusting to Missionary Life.’ I refer to it as the ‘Missionary Stress Book’ and there may or may not have been a period near the beginning of my mission when I carried that book around with me. 

          So, where is my ‘Adjusting to Post-Mission Life’ book? I mean there is some real reverse culture shock going on here! I should have prepared more mentally for this! 

          My ideal ‘Adjusting to Post Mission Life’ book would have sections and subsections similar to the following; 

          1. How to Respond Rationally to Facebook

                    A.) How to handle yourself when you discover the marriages of those people that you are close enough to that you resent them for not telling you about their marriages but not close enough to that they told you about them.

                    B.) How to regain self-esteem after facebook-stalking yourself and realizing that the ‘you’ of three years ago is way hotter than the ‘you’ of today.

                    C.) How to not get sucked into the vortex of little red notification numbers in the top right corner of your screen.

                    D.) Words of validation to practice when you start to feel suffocated by the fact that practically everyone your age is married, pregnant, and/or in graduate school and you realize that you still haven’t received your bachelors’ degree.

          2. How to Manage the Alarming Amount of Time You Suddenly Have at Your Disposal

                    A.) Coming to grips with the fact that not everything you do will be of eternal importance.

                    B.) Why It Is Infinitely easier to dinker around the internet than do your scripture study and How to Overcome That.

                    C.) Maintaining a Steady Sleep Schedule

          3. Overcoming Your Fear of Media

                    A.) TV

                    B.) Movies

                    C.) Music

                    D.) Books

          4. Not Falling into pre-Mission Bad Habits

          5. How to Interpret Dreams About Your Mission

          6. Tips on How to Draft people into your personal ‘Rehabilitation Support Group’

          7. Staying Within the Bounds of Social Acceptability When Talking About Your Mission

                    A. The Rule of Karma: If you didn’t really care about other people’s mission stories, chances are most people won’t really care too much about your mission stories.

                    B. Consider the amount of context needed before starting a story. Evaluate if this is worth your listener’s time.

          Wouldn’t that be a nice book to have around? So many advices! So many specifics! No more of this ‘it will be hard, and you will be awkward but it will go away’ crap. I want deliverables! 

But on the other hand…. I kind of had immunization to prepare me for post mission life. I mean, we had a good ‘trunky chat’ with President and Sister Packard in the mission home before we left. But it’s more than that. In a very real way, everything about my mission was a preparation for post-mission life; working hard, putting God first, developing Zion in your companionship, always looking for ways to serve others, maintaining a steady schedule, setting goals, etc. etc.

It’s just so hard to continue doing those good things without the constant support and encouragement and expectations that we had in the mission. How do I maintain the awesome spirit I felt on my mission and listen to regular music and read normal books?

I’m fumbling to figure it out-what Does God expect of me in this stage of life? And how do I muster up the energy to do it? President Packard always talks about going home in the sense that the ‘training wheels’ for how to live a consecrated life come off. That’s certainly true. And I am a-wobbling. 

But I think it’s going to be okay. If there is anything that I learned in the past 18 months it’s that God has a plan for me. As President Packard once said, “Let the kaleidoscope of life turn again and again: the true believe of Christ will always find purpose and meaning.”

Or as Peter Pan said; “to live would be an awfully great adventure.”

Immunization or not, look out life! Here I come.

We Are Started to Leaving

Well folks, the day has come!

My African adventure is over...for the time being! As I am learning, you never know where life will take you. Or when. It was less than a year ago that I bid goodbye to Uganda thinking it would be years, perhaps decades before I saw it again. And then about 6 months later I was back in Gulu reuniting with old friends, meeting beautiful people and learning more about myself than I perhaps cared to.

I have been so blessed.

Anyway, I just want to apologize for the horrible lack of blogging these past few weeks. I could say that I was extremely busy, that many days were lived on the narrow precipice between hysterical laughter and tears, that the power was often out and that I was constantly exhausted. All of those things are true. But really there is no excuse for not capturing the beauty of this experience more than I did. And I'm sorry to anyone who felt left out of the loop (because, as I know...you are all obsessed with my life, right? RIGHT?).

Yeah.

Well, as I sit here in the Hotel Casa Miltu in the capital city of Kampala where my trip began its hard not to look back on everything. And its not so much where I have been that I am mulling over but who I was at each of those points. It's been a long journey...and, just like  last summer's trip to Uganda, I'm not totally sure where it has led.

Not to sound melodramatic, but I think that anyone who spends enough time in Africa-away from the touristy hotels and safaris- pretty much has a similar experience. That this continent  is 'awesome' in the historical sense of the word. It inspires awe. It is both great and terrible. As I said, my experience has included both laughter and tears.

But mostly laughter. And bemusement. Lots of bemusement. It may take a lifetime to untangle the lessons I have learned here.

It was hard saying farewell to Gulu on Monday. We  went around saying goodbye and taking  pictures with our favorite people. We threw a pizza party for the staff at Thrive. Best of all we visited an orphanage with our friend Steve for the second time. It is a very small grassroots orphanage located out in a village with about 30 children living in 3 small rooms with only 6 beds total. I will talk more about that later. But, oh the joy of those kids. They sang us songs and danced and played with us. As we were getting ready to leave, we all lined up in a long train. They usually escort us/Steve out of the village to the main road, however we just stood there for awhile with the three of us mzungus growing ever more confused since we weren't moving.

Finally Steve turned to Vincent, one of the older kids there to ask what was going on. "We are started to moving," Vincent replied in his basic english. "Ah" answered Steve as if that explained everything.

Finally we did leave down narrow dirt paths and I arrived at the road with a child on each hand and a growing regret that I had not spent more time with them.

Isn't that always the way of it when saying goodbye? If only there was more time.

I'm ready to go home though. I'm ready for this 32 hour excursion involving 22 (yes 22!) hours just of AIRTIME to be over. I will be in an airplane for 22 hours over the next couple days not counting the time in the airports. My flight path is Entebbe to Istanbul to Chicago to Salt Lake.

I'm a bit tired just thinking about it! And on that note, I'm going to wrap up and try to get to bed. I have a long stretch ahead of me. And though I was up all night cleaning my apartment in Gulu on Monday, and though it took 6 hours to get from Gulu to Kampala, there is so much ground left to cover.

Kristen and I are only just started to leaving.

How is There?

One of the many “Uganda-isms” that I like is the expression “how is there?” What will happen is Kristen and I will meet someone new. They will ask what part of the world we are from. We will say United States and they will say “ah! How is there?”

Trying to answer that question is about as ridiculous as trying to answer to the question I get from all my friends back in the states asking, “How is there?” for Uganda.

With the Ugandan’s it basically just comes down to a discussion of the weather. We will say that ‘there’ is quite cold with so much snow. They will say “Eh! But it is too hot here!” And that is about the extent of the conversation.

With my friends back in the states, I say that it is stressful here but I usually don’t go into details. I’m not really sure why not. I mean I’m having the adventure of a lifetime. But I am too lazy to explain it all. I mean, it’s a lot just to take in, not to mention make sense of for someone else. The best way I can explain “how is there?” to my mzungu friends in America is with a series of anecdotes. Here are a few:

I spent an entire night running to the bathroom I was so sick. At about 3 in the morning I discovered a large rat the size of small cat in the bathroom. At first I thought that maybe it was a hallucination because I was so dehydrated. In the morning we told the gatekeeper, Bonie and he said “eh! You saw it? I have not seen the giant rat for years, I thought he was dead!” Comforting.

People are always saying “you are welcome!” to me as I enter their home or business. It doesn’t really matter if they knew I was coming or not. They are so gracious.

There have been week long periods here where I can’t actually remember what ‘cold’ feels like.

I get star struck when I see more than 4 white people together at once. Seeing old white people is a special gem. Spotting an Asian is like seeing a unicorn.

To get anywhere I flag down a random man with minimal English skills on a motorcycle on the side of the road. I tell him where I want to go. He will say he knows where that is (even if he doesn’t) and we will swerve through potholed, overly trafficked, crazy dusty streets to get there.

I have food hallucinations. Like, I will wake up and realize that I have actually been daydreaming about a melted ham and cheese sandwich from the King’s College Café in Cambridge. Which is about the most random thing I could have food lust for. But there it is.

Kids yell “mzungu MZUNGU!” when I pass by. Some even reach out their hands and quickly issue a gentle slap. Most likely this is to see if my skin is really so white or if it is a paint that could come rubbed off. It’s skin.

I have to plan that every event will take about 2 hours longer than it would in the US.

The power has been off for significant portions of the day, every day for the past couple weeks.

The savannah of the countryside is the most beautiful rustic thing I may ever see.

A safari to a world-renowned national park can be planned 3 days ahead of time and paid for in the cramped interior of a cellphone stand.

I get hit on constantly. Sometimes this is flattering. Usually it is a little unnerving and a good reminder of how unimportant looks are. I’m tired of people declaring their love for me when we have said 3 words to each other.

I got SUPER excited when I saw an ice machine at a restaurant the other day. Like…really excited. It was just for certain drinks at the bar so I didn’t even get to benefit from the ice. But it was still really heartening.

I am routinely greeted by women as if I am their long lost sister. I am received with hugs, welcomed into their hut, given soda and biscuits and sent away with gifts of beads or sewn handicrafts.

I pretend that I am a princess as I ride down the street because so many kids wave at me and I go into Duchess Mode waving back at the people.

Well, that’s all for now. I know that this all might sound rather negative but Kristen and I aren’t in the best mood right now. We’ve had a long day of appointments falling through, focus groups not going well and bug bites in un-itchable places. At least while I am in public.

I love Africa. But it’s broken me a little bit.  And I’m ready to go home. 

My African Life

As I sit here waiting for our chicken formerly known as "Kitgum" to cook, I thought I might take a moment to catch you all up on my life.

Here's how its going. I have arrived safely in Uganda. I spent a couple nights in Kampala getting materials together and then I took the 6 hour post-bus ride to Gulu. I spent a night in a very tiny cramped hot "hotel" room in Gulu and then moved into our new apartment the next day.

After a week of traveling it felt SO GOOD to unpack. So good.

There is a very granola young mormon couple here (Jaimie and Jaron) that we have a connection with (they are both American, BYU alums), who met us at the bus stop and then gave us their old apartment-they moved into a new one earlier than they were planning for us which was really nice.

The best way to describe life in our apartment is like really luxe semi-permanent camping. There are two rooms. One is a bedroom with a queen-sized, mosquito-netted bed that we share and two shelves. The other room has a sunken in couch, a desk, some shelves, a weak mini-fridge and a water dispenser. Then outside there is a small patio with a couple chairs and a kitchen. The kitchen has a small sink, and a small stove. Off the patio and to the right a few feet is our shower/bathroom. It is a squat toilet which I broke within 48 hours of being here.

Don't get gross now. I just broke the handle as I tried to run away in the middle of the night from the splashing water.

Anyway, life here is a little exhausting to say the least. I don't feel like we spend all that much time working on our Needs Assessment but we do spend a reasonable amount on it and we only just got here. But, really just living takes up about 90% of our time. One of our favorite phrases that we say in an annoying (but only half joking voice) is "Why is life so haarrrddd?"

It truly is more difficult though. First of all it is always incredibly hot. If this were America or if I was living in a nicer place then I could go inside to the air conditioning and cool off. No such luck here. There is no respite! It gets a bit cooler at night but its still hot. Never have I been so unconcerned about indecent exposure.

Also with limited resources and cooking supplies, every meal is a struggle.

A typical day involves waking up to the sound of a rooster cock-a-doodle-doo-ing at around 8. It's pretty consistent. I don't need an alarm clock. By 8 I won't be able to ignore the sun or the rooster anymore. We get ready, we eat what is usually a meager breakfast, grab our helmets and head out. After leaving the gate to our little compound (there are a few other apartments with other mzungus here - a guy from England, a couple from Germany, a girl from Colorado) we hail a boda.

A boda boda is the cheapest, easiest form of transportation around here. Basically how it works is that there are strange african men on motorcycles located at strategic points all over the city. If you want one you can hail it down much like a taxi, decide on a price, hop on the back and "we go." Often Kristen and I will both ride the same boda but once we realized that it would be the same price if we spilt up and take two, we have tried to do that. If we both ride together, the person in the middle gets really uncomfortably close to the driver. Imagine straddling a small motorcycle in a dress pressed up against someone else's sweaty backside. Now stop.

Anyway, bodas are really fun. They almost always put a smile on my face. We ride down bumpy dirt roads, swerving around pot holes and enjoying the little bit of wind in our faces and waving to kids along the road. Some drivers are more reckless than others but, (don't worry mom!) I have my helmet!

There isn't really such thing as a typical day here yet, but we often meet with the staff of the NGO we are working with. They are very nice and hospitable. We almost always have to make a shopping trip every day too. This necessity is a combination of poor planning, moving into an apartment without many accessories and the fact that our fridge is the size of my nephew.

Today we felt really good about going to the outdoor market because we know our way around a little bit and we now feel comfortable enough to barter a bit and fight the "mzungu" prices that some people try to give us.

Our best friend here in Gulu would probably have to be Bonny our gatekeeper at the apartment complex. He helps us with things that are broken around the apartment and even went into town with us the other day to find a replacement for the broken piece in the toilet. He is great. A very very nice man who has lived away from his family who are in the southwest of Uganda for about ten years getting money for them. We have a sweet friendship with him that consists of him doing favors around the house for us and us sharing our food with him or buying him juice or candy.

Well, is there anything I'm missing? I don't think so. Basically the showers are cold, the internet is spotty and the German's next door are always singing.

Life is good.

p.s. look forward to hearing more about Kitgum the chicken in the next post!