Travelling Back to Africa

Flight One: Drove up to the airport with my Dad, Mom, and a whole gaggle of siblings in that big terrible green 15 passenger van that I hate so much. We joked and laughed and even sang a few choruses from musicals. (And by we, I mostly mean that Jenny led the sing along choir, and I pretended to be annoyed the entire time while knowing full well that those are the moments I’ll cherish the most when I miss them all over here.) Mom had packed some snacks for the road so we pulled out the trail mix and had a grand old time.

My little brother Joe pulled me aside while we were stopped at the rest stop and told me how much he had enjoyed getting to spend time with me and that he was really glad I got to come back and visit. Joe is not a man of many words normally. When he speaks on a subject like this, I know it is from the heart. That touched me a lot that he would seek out a time when not everyone was around to tell me.

My dear sister-in-law had organized the family to write me letters. One for each week of the next year and so the huge manila envelopes full of cards and letters were tucked safely away in my backpack next to Mom’s fresh peanut butter cookies and copies of the family pictures that we took over Thanksgiving.

The suitcases were packed, repacked, weighed, and packed again before I left the house, but upon arrival at the airport they were weighed in the balance and found wanting so I had to repack them again… to get them down to 50lbs each. That sounds like a lot, but I am a tremendously efficient packer, and I could easily get another 20lbs in each one. This being done, they were checked and it was time to say “so long”. In times like these I realize that words fail me. “I love you” and “I’ll miss you” don’t seem enough. Hugs all around as I tried desperately to blink back the tears from my eyes. I blew a final kiss and mouthed “I love you” before turning away to hide the quiver in my lip.
These guys are my rocks. They have loved me so completely. If I woke up tomorrow with not a thing in the world, I know they would be there for me. If I fail at everything in life, somehow they still keep believing in me. When I feel like God is far away, they pray for me and point me back to the truth. They are my family and they are the hardest things to leave on the other side of the world. So yeah, a simple, “I love you” sometimes just doesn’t seem like enough.

My first flight from KCI to Chicago was un-eventful except for listening to the tremendously outspoken woman in the seat in front of me discuss everything from emergency landings she had been involved in, to politics, to religion, to the slim pickings in the 50+ dating pool. It was… interesting.

Flight Two: On arrival in Chicago I was starving, so grabbed a quick bite to eat before trying to track down my next flight. My original flight was with United Airlines, but the next 2 would be with Turkish Airlines which I was a little nervous about since I had never flown with them before. Come to find out, it was in another terminal on the complete other side of the airport. So I started out on my long trek across O’Hare. This is when I began to notice a serious problem. In the shuffle to get everything the correct weight for the checked baggage I had shifted a few things to my carry on. This, coupled with its already heavy burden of clothes and shoes made my bag probably heavier than the ones I checked! This would be fine… if it were a rolling bag, but this particular bag looks more like Mary Poppins’ carpet bag. (I’m still looking for the secret compartment with the lamps) It was a salvage from my Grandma’s basement. If I remember correctly, they bought a set of these semi-hideous floral bags when her and my Grandpa went to England one vacation. I think it was an effort to have something that would stand out on the luggage conveyer (smart woman!). Somehow  though… the hideousness of the bag makes it that much more beautiful to me. (I am a woman of strange and varied tastes, and carpet bags have always intrigued me, not only for their potentially magical qualities, but because: who carries those these days? Totally boho, right?) However, this bag and I began to fight a very potentially damaging battle of the wills as I lugged it and my already overstuffed backpack across a huge international airport. I did manage to make it to my gate however, despite my correct posture points sinking a good 7 points as there is no correct way to carry 50lbs on one side of your body, and no way to walk correctly if the weight is balanced between my two arms… *sigh* I should just give up and start carrying things on my head like the village ladies!

Found my seat next to a 50ish sweet lranian lady with perfectly manicured nails and styled hair. At first she totally thought I was Hungarian. (yeah, I can’t explain that either…) She told me all about coming to visit her son who is in medical school in Chicago, but works too much at the hospital (he’s a resident) and so couldn’t spend much time with her. She also talked to me about the hijabs that they have to wear in Iran. (She wasn’t wearing one) According to her, it makes no sense why people would wear them if they don’t have to. She explained it like this, “Okay, in my country, my government makes me wear them, so fine, I have to wear them. But I don’t know why people would wear them if they don’t have to! My God is a God who loves beauty! I don’t know who these people are worshipping, but their god must love ugliness!”

Oh, let me tell you about Turkish Airlines though… cause you know how I was kinda nervous about flying with a different airline than what I had used in the past? Yeah… so first thing they do after leveling off after take-off is the stewardesses come around with a tray of Turkish Delight. I kid you not. I almost laughed, cause how funny is that… But then, actually its kinda really cool! Of course I didn’t eat any. (I’ve read The Chronicles of Narnia, and I know what might happen to me once I’ve eaten it! Thank you C.S. Lewis for ruining that for me! Can you write about cheese or soda next time; someone should ruin those for me too!)

Was a bit nervous about what they would serve for meals on their flights, but all in all, it was fairly normal. When we were boarding caught sight of the fact that they actually had “chefs” on their flight staff who were not stewardesses but were just in charge of cooking our meals! Along with our blanket, pillow, sleeping mask, and headphones, they also provided a little toiletry bag with toothpaste, toothbrush, moist towellettes, that sort of thing. All in all… impressed. I would fly with Turkish Airlines again, definitely.

So I don’t know what it is about me… but every time I would get to the toilets, that’s when we would hit turbulence. Now A: those bathrooms are incredibly small and I already have claustrophobia issues. I feel like I can barely turn around, let alone have ample space for adjusting clothing etcetera. Which brings me to B: this is a public bathroom. That much being said, no surfaces which don’t completely need touched should ever be touched. Have you ever tried to pee, touching nothing, in an incredibly small space whilst simultaneously being tossed by turbulent wind currents?? If so, you understand my pain. If not, I would never wish it upon you. That is all I will say on that subject.

Flight Three: Upon reaching Istanbul, I had a slight layover and an incredibly heavy bag, so instead of walking around the airport like I normally would, I instead found a food court to hang out in. This was prime “people-watching” real estate folks! Now I have always been one of those people who observes things, so this should be no real surprise that I enjoy people watching from time to time. This normally works well in coffee shops, where sips of coffee can double as a chance to glance around. Have you ever watched “Date Night”? Remember the scene where they make up what is going on with all the couples? I have always loved that part of the movie because actually doing that is so much fun! So while I sat there alone pretending to be very absorbed in listening to my music and being a rebellious hippie… I got to look around and guess where everyone was from and what brought them to Istanbul. A fascinating anthropological study actually.

Boarded the plane as one of the last ones on, so no place to store my magic carpet bag (at this point, the pain in my shoulder and the raw patch on my hand from the strap have led me to delusional misgivings about the true origins and powers of this bag). The steward was super nice though, and found a place for it up in 1^st class (far, far away from where I was seated). Found my seat next to a sweet Ugandan couple who were going home for holidays from where they live in the UK. Lovely mix of Ugandan and British accents which was so comforting to hear! #almosthome

Slept fitfully and not at all the last 4 hours on the plane as I waited with baited breath to A: be able to lie down on a flat surface and/or to stand for more than 5 minutes. B: Get through all the mess of entry at the airport. C: Finally be back in my beloved UG.

So we had to stop in Kigali first and let off some passengers. What is it about people that when the staff come on the intercom and give you instructions you think it applies to everyone but yourself? I can’t even count how many times they had to tell people to “remain seated with your seatbelts fastened while people de-plane and board”. Like seriously guys! As if we all haven’t been on this plane as long as you have and we aren’t all itching to stretch our legs… Can’t you understand that by standing in the aisles, moving about and trying to get things from your overhead bins you are slowing down the progress of people going and coming who need to in order for us to take-off again? So your desire to stretch right now is delaying all of the rest of our abilities to stretch continuously at our final destination. Good job, guys. Good job.

Anyway…

Target Acquired: Touched down in Entebbe just like normal. Had to do an Ebola screening. Ironic that I was actually slightly safer from Ebola by staying in Uganda than I was by travelling to the so called “first world country” of the US. Good news though people: I don’t have it!

Lugged my luggage (is that why they call it that??) through customs and picked up my checked bags. My friend was there faithfully waiting for me with the car. The poor guy had to stay up all night essentially to come and pick me up at 4am. I sank into the slouched seats in the back of the car with my head on his shoulder and we talked all the way back to Kampala. The night lights, honking horns, and smells of diesel fuel wafting in through the open window welcomed me back to my beloved country.

So when I left the US I was wearing a total of 4 layers. A tank top, long sleeve tee, thin hoodie, thick insulated hoodie, plus a scarf. As I struggled hauling luggage in the airport is became abundantly clear that this was NOT proper attire for December in Uganda. As soon as I reached the car, the layers started being peeled off! For most of my life I’ve been a girl who would rather have it cold than hot. I don’t mind bundling up and would do that instead of sweating any day! But over the last year, I have developed a certain fondness for the idea of hardly ever experiencing coldness. I love that I don’t need to climate control anything about my house other than closing or opening a window and that my clothing can be lightweight and carefree. When I went back to the US I was constantly cold for like the first 2 weeks. I hate socks and I wore them TO BED! (which violates sooo much of my ethical code of conduct that it isn’t even funny!) So the warmth, the glorious warmth, even at 4am, was a special kind of beautiful to my soul!

So what’s happened since then?? Well, not much actually. My sleep schedule has been off. Went to bed around 6-7am on Tues and then again last night on Wed couldn’t sleep until about that time again. Slept at the regular time last night, but woke up around 330am and haven’t been back yet (its 8am as I’m writing this). Hopefully that gets sorted out soon. I go back to work at 1pm today, so that should be interesting if my sleep/lack thereof becomes a factor.

Other than that, I’ve been working on putting up some of the things that I brought for my house. The curtains are great on my bedroom window, my sheets feel amazing on the bed, and my hodge-podge of posters is proudly adorning the wall I wake up to every morning. Actually super excited to get Christmas decorations up. It’s hard to feel in the mood in tropical weather, but my brave little gingerbread men are surely helping!

I guess that’s most of the update for now folks. I will write more and post as often as I can. I really realized how delinquent I’ve been on posting here lately, and now with my little baby Dell back in working order and my fingers poised ready over the keys I feel that a new age of writing is to be born!

 I hope you all are ready!