Kapchorwa, Uganda is a located in a very mountainous area. In fact, it is a part of the popular Mount Elgon, which is shared between Uganda and Kenya. This beautiful mountain area gives people of all nationalities the opportunity to go hiking and see some very impressive waterfalls. After spending a week on rural home stays in this area, all USP students meet at a resort near the beautiful Sipi Falls for a time of relaxation, mountain hiking, and debrief.
Arriving at the resort Friday, February 27th was an extremely difficult experience for me. In fact, simply getting on the bus and driving away from my family was difficult. While driving back to the resort, everyone in the bus was trading stories and trying to tell everyone about how wonderful their experiences were. I sat quietly at the back of the bus realizing that this was only the beginning of the hard road ahead of me.
Transitioning from Africa to America has never been easy for me. Each time I have went to a new developing country and returned, I have struggled with so many things: friendships, remaining the person I became overseas, understanding God’s grace and mercy with the new found knowledge of human suffering, and so much more. It’s a tough internal battle that happens within me with each return. Yet, though it is hard, I have always been able to handle it and come through it with the guiding hand of Jesus Christ.
What’s harder than the internal battle, though, is the apparent misunderstanding or nonchalance of the people around me. I can’t even recall the number of times I’ve been asked “how was Africa?” by people who don’t really want to know. All they want to hear is “I had a great time…held some orphans, painted a few buildings, and told them about Jesus.” They do not want to stand there and actually listen to you talk about your time in Africa…about your first day there being dumbfounded by the apparent poverty and need. About your second month there, when you realized that Africa isn’t at all like anyone imagines it…that the people aren’t all starving and infected with AIDS; about your third month when you realized a part of you never wants to leave…
They don’t actually want to listen to you talk about helping your host sister make chipati over a blazing wood fire or often catching your host brother dancing in the living room to an imaginary song. They don’t want to hear you tell them that your host mama struggles each day to provide an education for her children…or that you got offered marriage by twenty different men because of the color of your skin.
When I read that paragraph, I realize that many people would find those things interesting to know, but reading them and listening to them require two very different things. Reading it, you can think those are neat stories and go about your daily life. If I was standing in front of you talking, though, you’d actually have to feel the emotions I have behind those words. People only want to hear “I had a great time” because it’s easier that having to share in your pain…your agony over witnessing such hardship, struggling with the emotions of being so blessed when surrounded by people barely getting by, longing to return to a life that somehow become home in only four short months…
It’s a struggle no one would expect, but in all reality, the hardest struggle is going home, for it hurts so much when you spend four months of your life living among some of the most amazing people you’ve ever meet…and no one will ever understand, even if they truly wish to.
Listening to the numerous stories out on that bus ride away from my Kapchorwa home, I saw just how hard going home could be. Each person in that bus had their own amazing stories and experiences to share…yet no one on the bus wanted to listen.
Just so anyone who cares knows, I do miss my home in America…my family and friends. But going back isn’t going to be easy. It’s going to be a time of major transition…a time where I will struggle between my life of the last four months and the life of my last 21 years. If I happen to withdraw from things, please don’t worry. While at Sipi Falls, I also withdrew from people, spending the time alone with my Daddy God, using His strength help me through that first transition.
I didn’t write this to make you feel guilty for not actually wanting to listen to my stories, for I’m sure you’re going to get sick of me saying “in Uganda…”, I just wanted to share how I’ve been feeling and to make you aware. If you don’t want to listen to me sharing about my life in Uganda, that’s perfectly ok, and I will understand. I just ask for a little understanding, for when I leave Uganda that’s not the end of it for me. I’m bringing a little piece of it back…while in turn leaving a little bit of my heart behind.
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Tori,
ReplyDeleteYou have a passion for Africa unlike any that I've ever known. I heard you talk about Madagascar and was moved and intrested in everything you could tell me... granted, I'm visual and some.... most things went WAY over my head at the time, the things I did catch seemed unreal and exciting, while sad and action provoking all at the same time.
Most people don't want to really hear what went on over there. Once you hear that people die everyday, you can either command yourself to action to help them, or you can try and brush it off and pretend like it never happend... guess which one is easier? Unfortunatly, there aren't many people out there with the passion for Africa like you, so it's difficult to find someone that would listen.
You have a lot of stories that you've aquired over this time you've been in Africa, and you've had time to take it in and really think about it. When you come back home to tell these stories, people don't have near the time you do to digest it. You tell 10 stories that truly touched your heart and you grow frustrated and disappointed when they barely shed a tear. It's hard to put yourself in someone elses shoes... esspecially when it's a completely different culture... and even worse when someone else is trying to explain something else from a completely different culture. Some things can't be explained unless you experiance it.
I pride myself on being a good listener... but there's no way I could begin to imagine the complexities of emotion you felt on your trip. There's no way I could feel or learn what you have in the way you did it. Right here and now will never happen again... anywhere. That's why we jump for the moment to live it. When we choose not to live, we actually died for that one second we hesitated.
I'll never grow weary of your stories of Uganda or any part of travels your heart leads you to. You've always been "Little Miss Africa" to me, and for me to ignore the Africa in you would be to ignore you altogether. While my attention span and comprehension of verbal instruction and/or story telling leaves much to be desired, I will always do my best because I know how important it is to you, and I love to see you when you trigger that passion you're so set on deep down in your heart.
You will be discouraged, you will be frustrated... but it was never the people down here that loved your stories and experiances the most. God is and was always, your biggest fan.
Jason,
ReplyDeleteI know that people will never be able to really understand...and that's hard to deal with. Because this experience means so much to me, it's natural for me to want to share with those I care for the most...only I can't, not really.
It means so much to know that you do care...even if you'll never understand. Thank you so much for being a friend I can always depend on.
It helps that God is not only by biggest fan, but that He also knows my experiences and feels a passion for Africa that surpasses my own. What a blessing! Knowing that no matter what I face or how alone I feel, He is always there to comfort me and understand.