Well hallelujah! I am
homeless – in a good way. My house in
Austin sold and to tell you the truth it took a village and the inhabitants of
that virtual village know who they are. I thank each and every one of you who went far
beyond friendship to make this happen.
A
little history to help you realize the importance of last this event: the time
my house was on the market was the period before I left for Peace Corps. If you
can imagine a more tightly wound me or environment than having a house on the
market, open houses most weekends, people wandering through as you
are trying to pack up for two years in a country you don’t know – for a job you
don’t know – with people you don’t know – well – don’t tell me. There were garage sales, trips to storage,
myriad documents, etc. ad infinitum. Because
it didn’t sell, there began the process of getting it ready for renters in one
of the worst droughts in history. That
meant installing more soaker hoses, timers, etc. and trying to anticipate care and feeding that would maintain its value and saleability later. It all seemed pretty well planned – even amid the chaos. I realize more than ever now that these are first world
problems, but they are nevertheless real when you have most of your net worth
tied up in a house - and the loan is through friends.
Fast-forward two years: time
to sell. Without going into the hoary
details, suffice it to say that the universe and a LOT of friends including the
US Embassy in Uganda were smiling even through some last minute drama. But it resolved well and I am – for the first
time in my adult life – without physical roots.
I have bought, renovated and sold eight houses and five of those have
been as a single woman. Read my lips: “I
am done.” I have instructed friends to
do an intervention if I ever talk about buying and renovating another old house
and that permission is extended to you, the reader, whether ye be friend or foe. I do love taking old things and making them
beautiful again, but this has to stop.
Maybe I am the old thing that
I will work on now ;-) instead of a house! In all actuality there probably WILL
be another house – but lord let it be LATER.
I became philosophical about the house not selling before I left for
Peace Corps - since it’s the only thing one can
do in the face of things not going according to plan. One says –“ there must be a reason” and I
think I have come to know some of it at least.
One of my traits is that I have insisted on “doing it myself” a habit
and character trait carved deeply into my psyche and tissues in childhood,
where it was fruitless to ask for help. Part of what I have learned and come to both embrace and allow myself to receive – is the
unbelievable generosity of spirit and
consequent actions of friends. There are
no words to express the beauty of that or the deep love and gratitude I feel.
Another lesson has been the active process recognizing the subtle markers
and extreme fall-out of fear: fear based emotions, thoughts and actions – all
of which characterized my experience of
having a house on the market and "fearing" (to use the Ugandan meaning) that if the house did not sell – all of
my plans would be for nothing. So when
it didn’t panic ensued. I've have always been pretty fearless about the BIG decisions, just not the smaller ones - i.e no fear of going to Africa, just terrified of leaving the house unsold and having to deal with it from a distance.) And guess what – I once again in my life –re-discovered that I
am not alone, nor do I have to do it all alone. Friends came forward with solutions. I hope this is the last time I have to be tested on that belief.
It’s both a spiritual validation and a physical one. As things fell into place for me to leave,
I realized I was effectively getting out
of my own way. I had to get far
enough away from the perceived reality to focus on other things and not worry
about “the house.” And so, when it came
on the market – magical things began to happen. As obstacles came up – the old PTSD of
having the house on the market for a year glared at me from a dark
corner and I had to consciously talk myself out of the abyss - consciously shift
my emotional energy. Life always
provides opportunities for examining oneself providing the mirror for reflecting back
what needs to be examined. So I am grateful
for the opportunity, the experience, the lessons learned and the gifts offered
up. But - can we please put this lesson to rest!
As the weight of this perceived threat lifts I feel lighter and less
encumbered. This is the way I had PLANNED to enter Peace Corps and I'm glad to have the last 6 months without that overhead! As we start the countdown
toward end of service, more interesting things happen and more insights emerge. When we
arrived in Gulu most if not all of us were overwhelmed by the dirt and dust,
the filth, the difficulty of getting from one day to the next. Yes – we’ve acclimated - we can do it - in fact have been doing it. The other night, friends and I were sitting
having a fairly intense conversation and a huge beast of a grasshopper the size
of a humming bird was flying in dizzying circles a foot over head and we didn’t
skip a beat until someone started laughing hysterically over the fact that this
is now considered normal. On that note, I thought it might be time to share
some "normal "images of Gulu. I'm always forgetting my camera, but last weekend I helped best friends video snippets for their Amazing Race audition tape. So I took my camera along. Ladies and gentlemen, let me present other faces Gulu:
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| Mobile Poultry Market |
And yes - those are live chickens hanging from the handlebars on that bike. It's the Gulu version of the Whole Foods poultry section. These are ubiquitous around Uganda. Chickens here are tough and the term tough-as-shoeleather takes on new meaning! Eggs have whitish grey yolks. We bought a chicken for Patrick who was helping us find locations for our Amazing Race shots. It was 10,000 shillings - around $5.00 - feathers, feet, clucking and all.
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| The Dump - right on main street |
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| Mobile Car Wash |
Below: JACK FRUIT! Huge... The sap in the skin is so sticky you have to boil water to melt it off. I'm not a particular fan, but part of that has to do with how much trouble it is to extract the edible part from the rest of the pulp.
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| Jack Fruit Extraordinaire |
And finally, below is my friend Leonard the Tailor. He always works outside under an awning and we became friends when he saw me reading a book while waiting for someone. Uganda is not a reading culture, but Leonard s a reader and love mysteries. At first I just brought him books, but now shares his favorites with me! It's a rare friendship.
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| Leonard the Tailor and Mystery Reader |
And so my friends - you now have another view of Gulu.
At the moment, I'm house-sitting for friends who have a niiiice place. Actually I'm kitty sitting - the house is perfectly able to take care of itself. The kitty however went into heat for the first time on my watch and evidently was squired by some neighborhood ruffians the result being - well - a soon to come litter of kitties. Now that she's about to download, I am back at the scene of the crime. Will keep you posted.
In the meantime - Namaste.
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