Looking back: learning lessons

Last Thursday, Thanksgiving day, I left school early (yes, I said school--we still had to teach since there is no reason to celebrate Thanksgiving in Uganda) took a boda to City Square where I met Sharon, found a matatu, and we were on our way to Mukono. We were going to attend USP's (Uganda Studies Program, the study abroad program we both attended last year) Thanksgiving celebration. When we arrived, there were probably over 100 people there, and we commented on how strange it was to return to campus not knowing anyone. The last time we were at that place, we were surrounded by 35 other American students who we spent a semester learning to love Uganda with. By the time we arrived, most of the feast was already gone. We were able to eat some turkey (not as you would imagine it, though) and gravy. The dessert table made up for not having any food left, though. Since we were last in line for food and didn't get much dinner, we were first in line for the desserts, of which there were probably 30+ different kinds! This is, I'm convinced, one reason why it pays to be last. "The first shall be last, and the last shall be first." Missing out on the mashed potatoes, rolls, stuffing, and vegetables was worth it in order to be first in line for the wonderful desserts! :) Anyway, I'm not typically one to start conversations with complete strangers. In fact, I would normally be the one over on the side watching everyone else talk. That night was different, though, because when you live with a family in Uganda for four months, you immediately have a common bond, no matter how different you are. I sat with several IMME (missions emphasis, homestay students) and we shared stories from our semesters. It's one thing to try to share all of my stories with friends back home who can only try to imagine what it was like to experience them, but it's quite another to share them with those who have themselves been through the experiences. They know exactly what I'm talking about. They can relate. They can laugh about the crazy adventures that no one else could ever imagine enduring, and they can be joyful about the lessons you learn as a result of going through them. Needless to say, it was an incredible night filled with laughter and lots of story-telling.

I also had the opportunity to meet the student who is staying with my host family this semester. The conversations I had with her turned out to be more of a blessing than expected. After hearing some of her comments and stories, I realized that her experience is not far from mine. She began wondering if it would ever get better, and slowly by slowly, things did eventually change. Of course, the family makeup is different for her, as our sisters have moved out, and our dad has a job now. She has her own room. I shared it with three sisters. Let me just say, it would have been MUCH easier for me to get used to using "the bucket" at night if I hadn't had three other girls watching me :) Anyway, I think the best result of the conversation was realizing that it wasn't just me. All semester last year I remember wondering if my family-life would have been better had I been more outgoing or more of a conversationalist. I wondered if I was doing something wrong. I constantly thought I was the problem. Talking with Jill, the student this semester, made me realize it's not just me. She is experiencing many of the same circumstances. It's just our family. They're fabulous, loving, wonderful people, but they're not the greatest at sitting around and talking. They sure do care about their host students, though, and they enjoy having us. Jill says they talk about "Nabachwa" (my Ugandan name) all the time. I assume they'll do the same with her once she leaves. They loved us, they just had a different way of showing it. That was an important realization.

I'm amazed at how much I continue to learn as a result of my experiences here a year and a half ago. Just being back in that town, with those people, reminded me so much of what it was like to live there for four months. I was once again reminded of the simple life, and of the joy we experienced just by being present. For a semester in our lives, we didn't need "things" to please us. We didn't need electricity, or a toilet, or running water. We didn't need variety in our food (though matoke did get old sometimes). We watched our families live with so little, and yet live with such joy, and we learned to be content. I've written this before, but being back in Uganda, and living in such different circumstances, I can't deny that sometimes I really miss that simplicity. I constantly learned lessons as a result of my daily experiences. I constantly interacted with the Ugandan culture. I rarely walked home from school without having a conversation with some woman or child (or unwanted man, in some cases). I stopped on the side of the road and played soccer with a group of kids I'd never met before. I provided shelter under my umbrella for a child who was soaked and just trying to make it to school. I learned to experience joy as a result of the small things, like when the cafeteria didn't run out of spoons and we didn't have to use our hands to eat rice and beans. The simple life became my life, and at times I hated it and wished I could just sit down on a nice toilet, or stand under a running shower, but overall, I loved it. I loved not looking in a mirror in the morning. I loved watching my family cook dinner on our outdoor stove. I loved watching my brothers chase all of the animals into our kitchen when the sun went down. I was content.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to say that I'm not content with life now. I'm just constantly reminded of that semester a year and a half ago when I experienced a different life, a life not many have the chance to experience, but everyone would certainly benefit from. I miss simplicity. I miss interacting with the people around me. I miss people being ok with silence, and simply enjoying being present. I'm thankful for that semester. I'm thankful for my host family, and the way they showed me how to be content and joyful, even with nothing. I miss the kids on the side of the road who accepted me and let me play soccer with them. I miss simplicity.

Thursday night I was able to spend the night at Brooke's house, so I wouldn't have to travel back to Kampala in the dark. Brooke was the IMME leader during my semester, and we grew to be great friends. It was fabulous to spend time with her and catch up. You'd think when you only live an hour away, we'd spend more time with each other, but this was only our second visit since I arrived in early August. She's a wonderful woman full of wisdom and love. It was a much needed break from the life of school-home-school-home day after day after day.

Friday morning I came back to Kampala just in time for the WGM Thanksgiving celebration. I think the menu was very similar to a Thanksgiving meal I'd have at home with family. We had it all--turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing, green beans, rolls, and most importantly, lots of dessert! :) It was a little disappointing to know that I was missing family time at home, but I'm thankful for the wonderful community I have here with WGM missionaries, and if I couldn't be home for Thanksgiving, I was more than ok with spending it here with them.

Hope your Thanksgiving was wonderful and that you are looking forward to the Christmas season! Three weeks left of school. Four exams to write. Seven tests to give and then grade. Ten days of teaching. Three days of exams. And then, two glorious weeks of Christmas vacation. I can't believe how quickly this semester has gone, but I can't deny that I'll be quite thankful for a break. For now, I continue to go day by day, hoping each day is a little better than the day before.