The Tears I'll Leave Behind

Hello to all,

Yesterday I left the beautiful village of Kyazanga. In Uganda crying is not socially acceptable. I have never seen a Bugandan cry (i've seen Jenifer cry, but she's Rwandese, and it's acceptable in her culture). When saying goodbye to volunteers the kids have met they sing a good bye song. It's really beautiful. Of course, I knew it was coming so I began crying while walking up the hill to the school. It took a while for everybody to get settled into the classroom to sing so I played some clapping games with the kids. I couldn't even finish the song without having my voice crack. The kids knew I was sad, but I don't think that the kids had really clued into the fact that I was leaving.

They all began singing (it was beautiful) and I cried and cried. Near the end of the song one girl (named Teddy, she's amazing) started crying. Then 4 kids started crying, then 19 and all of a sudden this room of 100 orphans, 4 volunteers from Mukono, 4 teachers, Jenifer and I were all crying. Leslie said she had never seen anything like it in Uganda. We were all in pain together but I think it would be fair to say that sharing that pain made it hurt less. I didn't know what to do. I knew I wanted to tell them I love them all as though they were my children. I wanted to tell them Cilika (which litterally translates into "shh"). I wanted to hold every single one of them forever and ever. How is it possible that I have given these children as much as they have given me? 100 hugs later I got into the car and we drove away... back to Masaka... back to Kampala... back to Mukono.

100 hugs later I said good bye to the most beautiful souls I have ever encountered.

Coming home is going to be such a challenge. I recognize that I don't want to do it but that this adventure has come to a close. I am not sad because I am leaving something behind forever, I'm sad because Uganda won't be a part of my life everyday for the next few years. The people here are so wonderful; the children especially. I have found a happiness I couldn't have imagined existed. I made the realization a few weeks ago that the reason it was going to be so hard to leave the kids at House of Hope was that I had found such a divine happiness that in leaving it I would be leaving it forever. But I realized that I'm not leaving happiness; i have found it so I can never lose it. I may be sad and slightly lost at the moment, but I'm still happy.

For the last year and a half I have obsesed and dreamed about Africa. Well now it is a part of me, it's not longer a dream but a reality. Coming home will not make Africa any less of a part of me.

A part of me is also really scared to come home. Scared about facing challenges which to people here would appear trivial. Scared to fall back into that rythm of thinking more of my needs then the needs of others. Scared I might forget who these children are, or what they have taught me. No, no, I will never forget that. I can't ever forget that.

I'm scared of using a flush toilet and drinking from the tap. I'm scared of white people. I'm scared for university in the fall. I'm scared of reverse culture shock and loosing the person I have become. I'm scared, but I'm not afraid. Although to me the challenges I will face in coming home will be much larger then the challenges I feel that three months in Uganda has provided me with the courage to get through any challenge.

Tomorow I am going to go bungee jumping into the River Nile. I need to explain this here, but I hope my mother reads this and understands why I need to do it...
I wanted to go bungee jumping in Nanaimo for my 18th birthday (since that's all you can really do in BC when you turn 18... except buy porn...). Well it was closed for the winter season so the opportunity didn't work out. I was planning on going this summer... but then read in my East Africa Travel Guide that you can go in Jinja (the source of the Nile).
I have been here for 11 weeks. I have learned so so much and have changed as a person. I have grown up and realized alot about myself and about the world. Tomorow when I jump into the Nile I'm not doing it to be rebelious, or to prove something, or to impress people. I'm doing it for me; I am going to be selfish.
It is a representation of the freedom I have earned here. I think it's fair to say that I have grown up and so have my parents. They have accepted me as an adult and I have become one. I have lived a dream. I have embraced life and all the lessons it has presented me.
Tomorow when I jump into the Nile it will be a jump into freedom and into a new era of my life.

And hopefully I won't get my head bitten off my Crocodiles...

Love and kisses; I'll be back soon with pictures, stories and 30Canadian Dollars (so if you want to take me out for lunch, please feel free...). Until Monday, have a good long weekend.