As much as adapting to Uganda and specifically Gulu, was an
adventure and a challenge, re-entry is offering equal opportunities for
surprise, fury, self-analysis, befuddlement and feeling out-of-sync. It doesn’t provide the sucking-in-of-breath
kind of surprises that Africa offers but there’s been plenty of gasping and
shock at what I’ve forgotten or all that’s changed in a mere two years. Being out after dark and seeing the night sky
after being in a locked-up-night-time-prison for two years produces the same
wonder that a two year old must feel at
discovering an iridescent, speckled
beetle.
It’s been a little over a month since I stepped back onto US soil
and I am just beginning to feel like a citizen – although a forever changed
one. I wonder if I will ever lose my excitement
over being able to wash hands in warm water coming from a tap or flipping a
switch and having light on demand.
Interestingly, internet access and phones continue to provide
frustration, mystery (will it “be there”) and opportunities for a few foul
words. I’m on the mountain hanging out
during the day in Brett’s domain or at least near. Even famous Timberline Lodge
- of The Shining lore – has its
technology challenges, their internet having been down for four days. Coupled with the unreliability of my third
inherited i-phone with a geriatric battery, phone service is also spssoradic. It seems like a bit of Uganda has followed me
home to be sure I don’t get too accustomed to a world where technology works.
Three weeks were spent in Austin with friends who welcomed me with
warm, open arms and with saintly patience, good will and generosity. I can hear my late mother saying: “Fish and company
stink in three days.” Fortunately, my
hosts have ignored the stench!
A good friend threw me a party, but I needed to send out the
invitations. Still in my stupor at the
time, I realized again how technologically challenged I was and that I’d lost my
contact list in the fray of my Uganda computer melt-down and had deleted a lot
of old e-mails to keep my ice-age computer from abandoning me in a land where
getting another would take an act of congress – and we all know how effective
Congress is.
Then I was so concerned about intruding on friends or over-stressing
their good will, I wouldn’t – didn’t think of either – asking them to d a
search for me. In the same way that I
felt like an intruder in Uganda those first months, I felt equally like an interloper
when I came back. This is a strange
feeling that defies description, as words have always seemed a little lacking
in revealing the subtleties of emotion.
At the moment, I’m in Oregon loving every minute of being in Brett’s
world. He and Molly have gone to great
lengths to set up a space for me and make me feel welcome, cosy and warm. Although this is considered a “warm winter”
on the mountain, Timberline – is encased in ice. Two other resorts are barely open, one making its own snow. From the crackling,
fragrant comfort of a fire in the three
story hand-built fireplace in the lodge I’m looking out at a mountain side sporting trees bent under the weight of
foot-long icicles. As most of you know by now, Brett is Director of Ski Patrol and as such is tasked with keeping errant skiers and snowboarders from killing themselves on the slopes. This means - among other things - going out every morning, re-setting boundaries and breaking rime ice off boundary markers. Yesterday the ice accumulation on ropes and poles was one foot in diameter and will be worse today.
Interesting to be here on the mountain to see what goes on. The second day I was here Brett and another
patroller happened to be on a ridge when they discovered a gaggle of young (and
stoned) snowboarders out-of-bounds.
Going over to give them the out-of-bounds lecture, it was discovered that one of their
motley crew had lept over a berm to rescue his gloves and proceeded to body
surf to within six feet of a crevasse that would have taken his life had he not
stopped. They were able to rescue him
with ropes, ice axes and cramp-ons, but it was treacherous as the lowering of
temps has caused deep fissures in the ice between them and him. The snow-bridge
on which he rested was fragile at best and heightened the risk, but thre was no
time to spare. Had they not been there
at the time they were and been able to execute a rope rescue, this no-doubt
would have ended a different way. 
The contrast between the grime, dust and primitive nature of Uganda and ice
and snow at a luxury resort is mind bending. I could not have consciously
chosen more opposite environments and cultures, unless it would be Travis’
world of cave-diving in Florida. Across from me sits a woman wearing a
full-length mink coat over her leopard-print pajamas.
Meanwhile, in Uganda Peter continues to struggle with shelter and
food, although I have sent some funds, even those who mentor him live on the
very edge of survival. There is a deep
well of need there that can never be filled. The saving grace is that climate
there is temperate. In January, the results of his exams should be available
and we will see what the next chapter holds for him. One of Peter’s mentor’s (Patrick) has
remained faithfully in Peter’s corner, sharing meagre resources, while others
in the absence of “Peter’s Muzungu” have
either abandoned him or tried to use him for their own purposes. Patrick has been accepted to study medicine at Gulu University, but was unable to
secure a sponsor until Austin friends decided to fund him for at least the first year (less than
$2000 per year for a college degree Miracles
abound and if manages to continue to his goal of becoming a doctor he will no
doubt forever change life for those in his community.
So connections with my community in Uganda continue even as I wonder
what will the next chapter bring or what I will create. Part of it this known - I put down my
deposit for a Teaching English as a
Foreign Language certification course in Guadalajara yesterday. The five-week intensive starts on February 4th
and the goal is to be able to get work in Mexico to fund my fixation on
becoming conversant in Spanish. Right
now, the only phrase other than greetings that instantly comes to mind is “Caramba! Se me olvido me quaderno (OMG
I’ve forgotten my notebook)! The mind is
a perverse thing… hopefully more phrases
will emerge from hiding though I may have opportunity to actually use that
one. I’ve wanted to do this for decades
and now’s the time, before I get to comfy or entrenched in both the
accoutrements and overhead of living in the good ole USA.
I’m a little nervous – even if Uganda was a world away I had a
safety net of sorts of people who had my back.
Not so much in Mexico, but I figure if I can learn to navigate and have
eyes in the back of my head in Africa, I should be able to do it in Mexico. At
least that’s my rationalization for the moment.
On January 3rd I’ll reappear in Austin, catch up with
friends I didn’t get much time with earlier, go through storage once again and
try to find different clothes and set off.
And so the quest continues. But for now I am basking in the glow of
family and friends. In my last few
months in Uganda, one of my fantasies had me sitting by this fireplace, looking out this
window at the snow falling on this
mountain, sharing Christmas with Travis and Brett and their significant
others. The only part of that fantasy
not manifested is Travis’s presence, but he’s enjoying his own fantasy
Christmas of diving in the crystalline waters of Florida’s cave system. And so life is unfolding in curious ways.
In closing, may you be enveloped with an abundance of health, good
friends, security and joy of the season. Take stock of life’s blessings
and enjoy. In deep gratitude for your
friendship and presence in my life –
Nancy
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