Looking back...

This blog has been spinning around in my head for a few days, and now that I've come to town, I'm going to try to pull it out of the thought realm and into the blog world. It is mostly written for those friends and family who are beginning, or preparing to begin, new chapters of life... be it college, traveling, marriage, jobs, or SALT assignments [it is a bit strange to realise that many of my fellow SALTers are only just now beginning to live in their long term homes and start their assignments, having completed six weeks of orientation and language training].

Every once in a while, I pull out the SALT assignment information that MCC sent me so many months ago. In three pages, it describes the assignment, qualifications, living situation, etc. that I accepted when I chose to serve at St. Jude Junior School in Bukoto Parish, Masaka District, Uganda. Some of you may recall conversations and my thoughts from that time period... I was nervous, excited, and not at all sure what I was getting myself into. Now, skimming through the pages again, it is amusing to read the description of the village I have come to call home. I realise that my teaching assignment is very similar, though not exactly identical, to what was originally intended.

A month and a half ago, this place and lifestyle felt strange and foreign. I was eating new food, waking up earlier, working harder, meeting entirely new people, learning a new language, even learning to speak my native language differently than I was accustomed to. Everyone I met was a stranger, and even if I had met them before, I could rarely remember their names. I hadn't started teaching, and my first encounter with the teachers (before I had learned to speak Ugandan English) left us all wondering if I would even be able to communicate with my students, let alone teach them.

And yet, here I find myself, having lost track of the days and weeks I have spent in Uganda, coming to the end of my third week teaching. There are still challenges and frustrations every day, but mostly, the same place that felt so strange in August has now become my home, and the same people I wondered if I could ever get to know have become my family and friends. I now feel comfortable introducing myself as a teacher and actually understand what that means in my context. I am finding my place in Bukoto village and now only hear constant cries of "bye mzungu" when I leave the few miles where I frequently walk (like today, when I have ridden on a boda the 10 or so kilometres to town and walked through Masaka Town). Instead, the children have learned my names and call "Bye Nakaweesi" or "Bye Chrishtine".

There is comfort in knowing that tomorrow I will attend mass at a church which is too small to fit everyone from my village, even though the only parts I will understand are the prayer, "In the name of the Father, of the Child, and of the Holy Spirit" and the passing of the peace, "emirembe gya Katonda". There is comfort in knowing that Monday morning I will wake up before the sun, bathe, and take tea with cassava before walking to school for 10.5 hours of lessons, not all of which I teach. There is comfort in glancing at my watch and seeing the local time displayed, in this equatorial place where 7 am marks the first hour of day, and 7 pm the first hour of night. There is comfort in knowing that this afternoon I will return to my village and spend a few hours studying Luganda and hanging out with my friends and fellow teachers. There is comfort in knowing that tonight, I will eat matooke, beans, and probably meat or cabbage, while kneeling on a mat with my mother, brothers, and sisters.

My life has established routines full of familiar faces and places (rather than foreign ones). My teaching assignment and living context doesn't look quite like what was originally described or what I originally imagined. But it has worked out, as I have lived each day for what it is.

And so, to the many of you who are facing unknowns and starting down new paths with unfamiliar sign posts, whatever part of the world you find yourselves in... Take a breath. Step back. Slow down. Let yourself imagine what it will be like. Write it down, if you like. Then let go of what you have imagined. Loose your expectations to fly on the wind, and live each day as it comes. Each day will have its troubles and frustrations, some more than others. But each will also bring its own joys and triumphs, though they may not be quite like you expected or wanted. You will form new relationships, and though they may feel strange at first, depth and comfort will come with time. The road ahead will bring unexpected twists, turns, potholes, puddles, mountains, goat herds. Don't worry if it doesn't take you quite where you thought you wanted to go - just keep walking, one step, one moment, one day at a time.

And in a few weeks or months, you will stop to rest and glance back at where you have come. You will realise that what was once foreign now feels familiar, that what once felt like insurmountable challenges, have now become moments which bring confidence as you face new hurdles. You will recall your expectations and realise that some of them have indeed been fulfilled. And others, well, maybe you had forgotten that you even wanted or expected that. There will be parts of your life that didn't even make the original list... and you will be so glad that they happened. Life will have continued, and you will discover that you are exactly where you are.

So, my friends, if you can, hold loosely to your expectations and looser still to your fears and doubts. Let life take you where it will. And know that I am standing beside you (in spirit if not in body) as you face new challenges and celebrate simple triumphs.