12.20.09
Standing in the US citizens line at customs, I was deeply missing home. Home as in Uganda. My heart was heavy with mixed emotions. I walked up and handed my passport to the customs man. I fought back tears as he asked me where I had been and what I was doing in Uganda. He stamped my passport and as he handed it back to me, said “welcome home”. Such a simple encounter has been causing me to deeply considering the idea of “home”.
I hear it constantly, “welcome home”. And I’m constantly corrected when I refer to Uganda as “home”, which even more confuses me. Where exactly is home? While im in Colorado, at “home”, I feel like Dorthy from the Wizard of Oz, searching for Kansas. My Kansas just happens to be Uganda.
Being home has been refreshing. I hardly remembered what I was like to be just another white person. Considering comforts like warm showers, driving, family, friends and of course food, being here is easy. Except for the fact that my heart is somewhere else. A huge part of me has been left in Uganda. And very few people actually understand that, or make and effort to understand.
It only hits me in waves. Standing in line at starbucks, waiting at a light, lying in bed at night. Those are moments when my heart aches to be home. The seconds where the business of America slows to a crawl and there is nothing to distract me. After just a week of being here I am ready to go home.
It scares me to think that my whole life might be like this. Just waiting. Cant I just be normal and find contentment in an average suburban life? Or will my whole life, my husband’s life, and my children’s lives, will they all be like this? A constant state of transition. There is so much fear in the unknown. But that fear breads faith. Faith that in it all, there is a plan.
In fleeting moments I envy my classmates. Attending their first year of university and having the time of their lives. But is that really what I want. Or have my desires always been far from the norm and I just need to come to terms with that. I have, and never will be just like everyone else. But is that a good thing or a bad thing? Well anyways, even in America, Africa continues to teach me.
