Home (part II)

After one crazy week back in the states, there are bound to be a few things besides food to comment on. For instance, how do I sum up my first trip to Africa? How can I characterize Uganda? What's weird about being back? While I'll spare you my verbal diarreah on all of the various in sundry topics of my first week back in the U.S., here are a few interesting tidbits:

1) Americans are bogged down with a lot of stuff. Even before I arrived at home, my poor wife was having trouble with both of our cars and as a result I had to ride a Greyhound for the last leg of the trip. Wait, poor? Two cars? Those don't belong in the same sentence. Also, for those of you who have never ridden a Greyhound or a Ugandan taxi, let me just say that the former beats the latter in legroom by about a mile. I never thought the cheapest possible mode of transportation in the country (short of skateboards and bicycles) could feel so luxurious. The frigid air-conditioning and the smooth ride (i.e. absence of potholes) reminded me that even the low-end realities of a rich country are poignantly and almost laughably posh even compared to the high-end realities of the third world.

2) Stuff is expensive in rich countries. I spent 24 hours in Gatwick airport, and the 60 dollars I spent there just to call my wife and stay nourished were cautious reminders of the 100 painful bucks I spent last time I passed through London . . . and that was just getting from place to place and eating some lunch! Another 50 bucks worth of cab ride from the Orlando airport to the Greyhound station reminded me that I could have gone back and forth from Orlando to Tallahassee 10 or 12 times for that much money in a Ugandan economy. This is going to take me a while. Shillings, how I miss you.

3) Ugandans are fearless. Even when my neighbors' kids there had no money for transport to and from school, their mum decided to bite the bullet and educate her children at home. People routinely go about their lives not knowing how they will foot the bill, faithful that it will all work out somehow, and with the generosity of friends and neighbors, they get through . . . which brings me to my next point.

4) I have never met so many ridiculously hospitable people. A Ugandan proverb states, "Mu nju temuba kkubo," or, "in the house there is no road." Visitors in the home are blessings upon that home, and people treat them as such. By extension, visitors to Uganda are within the confines of a collective Ugandan home, a reality that any traveler can feel in his everyday interactions with people in Uganda. My American friend in Kampala calls it "embarassing hospitality"; it's that kind of hospitality that makes you wonder what people think when they visit our country. It's not that we're unhospitable, but I was made a part of someone's family and of so many communities in Uganda. Of all the stories I could tell about my travels there, that's the one that touched me most.

5) No matter where home is, it's always good to be back. I'm happy to be home, to spend time with Jenn, to see my friends again, and to know that the meager student wage I receive has little to do with my quality of life because I live in a rich nation. I'm not a person who has a whole lot of guilt about living in the U.S. now that I have seen some places that aren't so filthy stinking rich. However, I do think that we have a lot to learn when we witness smiling people whose disposition doesn't match the balance in their bank account. We should be so bold as to find those reasons to be happy if for no other reason than just another day above ground.