new year's day

I’m wondering, now that I have returned home… what is it about Africa? Why the pull? Why am I already thinking about when I can return?

Africa cannot be defined easily. It consists of fifty-three countries. It is home to thousands of distinct tribes, cultures, languages (forty different dialects in Uganda alone) and traditions. There are countless different religions and spiritual beliefs. Music varies from one geographic area to the next; so do customs, food, dress and politics.

All I know of Africa, really, is Uganda, and I’ve only been there often enough to scratch the surface of what there is to learn about the place.

Going to the continent where we as human beings began is powerful enough.

Being there and getting a glimpse of the magnificent aspects of the human race is icing on the cake.

For three years now, I have watched people from comfortable American homes place themselves in uncomfortable situations (exhausting hours, cold showers, malaria ridden mosquitoes, questionable food and water, a language barrier, nasty traffic and fumes, regular power outages, bad roads, pit toilets, etc.) and make remarkable, life-changing connections with orphaned children. I have watched these team members give fully of themselves without expecting one single thing in return.

I have witnessed the boundless joy of children who have no earthly possessions except for a few items stored in a metal trunk at the foot of their mattress.

I have seen the hope and unbridled spirit of young people who have lost many of their family members, including one or both parent.

I’ve been on the receiving end of a staggering and humbling amount of unconditional love. And I have watched as fellow team members have been treated to the same.

I’ve witnessed resilience that has stopped me dead in my tracks.

I’ve seen enough poverty, filth, sickness and loss to remind me that any complaints about my own daily life should be reconsidered. There is little, if any, whining at the orphanage. In spite of their dire circumstances, the children move forward with bravery and elegance.

I’ve watched children who have not had the luxury of attending soccer camp, private art or music lessons, dance recitals or yoga classes excel brilliantly in these skills. I’ve seen those who have no computer or textbooks to call their own - who have only one school uniform and who have to walk a good distance in their one pair of school shoes to get to class - work hard to achieve a top position in their grade.

Simply put, I’m getting a sense of what is important and what is possible in each and every one of us.

Not all of Africa is this way, of course. But this is the part of Africa that I have been privileged to experience. It is all I know of Africa for now.

And it has left me wanting to return so that I can know even more.

The following is from Richard Dowden’s book “Africa: Altered States, Ordinary Miracles”. I think his observations are spot on:

“Africa has a reputation: poverty, disease, war. But when outsiders do go there they are often surprised by Africa’s welcome, entranced rather than frightened. Visitors are welcomed and cared for in Africa. You will find most Africans friendly, gentle and infinitely polite. You will be frequently humbled by African generosity. Africans meet, greet and talk, look you in the eye and empathize, hold hands and embrace, share and accept from others without twitchy self-consciousness. All these things are as natural as music in Africa.

Westerners are always struck by Africa’s beauty and size – even the sky seems higher. And they often find themselves suddenly cracked open. They lose inhibitions, feel more alive, more themselves, and they begin to understand why, until then, they have only half lived. In Africa the essentials of existence – light, earth, water, food, birth, family, love, sickness, death – are more immediate, more intense. Visitors suddenly realize what life is for. To risk a huge generalization: amid our wasteful wealth and time-pressed lives we have lost human values that still abound in Africa.”

The friends I have made in Uganda – all of whom look me in the eye, empathize, hold hands and embrace, share and accept – include my adult “sons” Peter and Moses, my fellow “Mama” Rosemary, my adult “daughter” Joan and 150 beautiful children (most of whom can and do kick my butt in “cards” - their version of Crazy Eights - but who also cheer for me whenever victory happens to come my way.)

I have come home to my own beautiful and loving children Abbie, Sam and Max. I am so grateful for them and so proud of them. Though I am totally exhausted after 32 hours of travel, I am alert and aware enough to know how very, very lucky I am to have these amazing people in my life.