one month in!

Today marks my one month anniversary with Uganda – and what an affair it has been! Granted, February is the runt of the months in terms of duration, I still can’t believe that I’ve been here this long already. Time is flying faster than the mosquitoes to my headlamp, and to my laptop screen during power-cuts (yuck!).

Some things are different with me already – a distinct flexibility and lack of constant anxiety of what I should be doing, where I should be going, etc (although some of this remains). I’ve moved from only brushing my teeth with bottled water to – gasp! – tapwater! My circle of friends, in comparison to the states, is incredibly small. It’s a strange thing to be in communication with nearly all of my “friends” in the course of the day. But hey, when you’re living in a region of 700,000 people, where 100,000 are Sudanese refuges “housed” by UNHCR, you start to see the same faces and more certainly, the same places (and by places and faces, I mean the three muzungu friendly restaurants, two western friendly grocers, same boda boda drivers, and same sweet tots walking to primary school every morning).

I’m proud of myself for mustering the guts to run away from the comforts of home. I know that many of my friends, family, and foes would never go beyond the talk. But in all honesty, it’s not such a big deal to be here. People are still people who have problems, and heartbreaks, and good days, and rainstorms. I see why people come to Africa and get infected – with a love for this place.

My new house is charming and I adore my housemate. She’s 37 and translates the bible into the indigenous languages of eastern DRC. It is fantastic to have someone challenge me with conversations of American societal class-structures and to create legitimate defenses of my American-ness and of America, which can be very hard at times and I find myself needing to do frequently.

Things here are simple, and incredibly complex at the same time. The poverty and daily struggle of the people around me can be overwhelming. I first gave my heart to Jimmy Carter when I heard him eloquently describe the growing divide between the haves and the have-nots. The disparity between my life and those around me is gut-wrenching, but I’m not yet able to give up some creature comforts. Yes, I do have hot water, hand cream, chocolate, and an i-pod (I am, however, ready to give away the 15,000 bottles of hand-sanitizer I brought and never use). That said, I wonder what I can give up, if I should give it up, and in what ways that will be of any benefit to anyone.

Happy anniversary to me and my new home: