Just Me

When I initially embarked upon this journey, I knew very little about the beautiful country of Uganda. I was certainly guilty, like many of us ‘Westerners’ are I think, of subconsciously homogenizing the entire continent of Africa into a single idea: one underdeveloped mystifying conglomerate. I didn't really separate or consider the different cities and countries and regions and people of Africa; I saw them plain and simply as "Africa," or "African." Out of sight and usually out of mind.

Images of thatched roofs and dirt paths, bony legs and hungry tummies, colorful scarves and exotic safaris danced through my thoughts in a sort of clashing and contradictory way when the mention of Africa was brought to my attention. It was a mystery to me: seductive and alluring at first, but yet dangerous and threatening. It was a far away land that was just out of reach, and maybe, just maybe, rightly so.

People were killed in Africa. Horrifying human hatred and genocide slaughtered millions in my own lifetime. Children were kidnapped from their families, given guns, and forced to murder their own neighbors. People were poor and incredibly hungry, starving to death in fact. Deadly diseases were diverse and ever so present. The water was dirty, the food foul. Guerilla warfare, AIDS, and environmental destruction had shattered the lives of so many.

I was supposed to have pity for the African people and their difficult, primitive, technology-starved lives, or at least that's what all the commercials and charities, and even the Church seemed to indicate.

Around here, you don't hear a lot about what goes on in Africa. We didn't spend much time studying Africa in school. The 10 o'clock news rarely divulged on anything African unless it involved oil, extreme turmoil, or claims concerning Barack Obama, and even these things were few and far between, not to mention incredibly vague (and rarely positive). Africa was not a popular topic of conversation among my peers, and very few people I encountered had even been there.

With a little bit of research and a lot of patience, I began to realize that many of the things I thought I knew were not only incredibly murky, but extreme, unfair, and imbalanced. As I began learning about the different countries that make up Africa and different people that make up those countries, I couldn't help but feel their sheer presence, vitality, ingenuity, and love. I started reading about their diverse cultures and traditions and their worldviews that seemed so very different from mine, yet somehow, exactly the same. Why? Because we’re all people, seeking the same basic things in life; we’re weaved as one, connected by the very fibers that make us who we are.

In many ways I am uncertain about traveling to Uganda. There are definite ideas that, as an American, I’ve come to accept. I used to never think about things like turning on the light, flushing the toilet, or throwing waste into the trash. I didn’t really consider it before, but truly, our supermarkets have no seasons (thanks Food, Inc). All children in this country are required by law to go to school. I wouldn’t think twice about the quality of medical care where I’m from. Strict laws protect the roads, food, and pretty much everything else we encounter. So many of these things are true privileges, and life in Uganda is a little bit different in many of these respects.

However, there are some basic rights that all people should have, but sometimes do not. Things like clean, safe drinking water; nutritious food; adequate medical care; and the opportunity for an education are different aspects that I will be learning about and fighting for in Uganda.

In many ways my semester will help me learn about others in a service-oriented framework, but my journey is also a very selfish one.

My life has been pretty orderly, but I must admit, maybe too much so. So many things have been painstakingly organized, prepared, and protected. I can hardly complain, but a strong part of me is hungrily searching for something more, or maybe, something less. I want to find who I am, without the needless distractions and possessions and obsessions. I don’t want to worry about being absolutely assured or perfectly right. Because the thing is, the world has no guarantees; and neither does life. Waiting to be completely safe and entirely certain can cause a person to lose out on the precious moments passing by. I’m finally beginning to realize that nothing can ever be truly certain. So, if everything in life is uncertain, why should this, my Uganda experience, be any different?

I’m leaving myself a lot of blank spaces. I honestly don’t know what my experience in Uganda will be like, and I have no idea the people I’ll meet. My future is very unclear, but I’m getting used to that feeling and I think I like it.

til next time.