Day 26

It's dry season in SouthWest Uganda. Let me kill myself.

Just kidding, but seriously. It's hot as balls here.

I'm beginning to realize that I suck at this training language skills. I don't use them enough at home nor in the community because usually I'm aggravated at being called mzungu, which is entirely a personal thing. I just hear nigger or spic or kike. It hurts me and although I do understand that it isn't always meant that way and exposure to other cultures is limited here, I am hoping in every way to one day break apart from being mzungu and become a person just like the Ugandans.

I hope that day is closer than expected.

A week from today I get to see my house and I'm so excited!!! Can't wait to have a painting party with myself and a box of wine. Those will be good days. Ahhhhh.

I realize that soon everything here will become normal. I won't look at the stars or how bright they are at night anymore. I won't look at the hills because I see them everyday. I won't kick at the rocks on my unloved roads because I'll know just what to do to avoid them. My photos will decrease as I cease to feel that I need to capture every green, every living thing with my lens.

I want to remember the people as much as they annoy me now, because its the ones that you speak to that light up at being greeted in their own language that make the struggle worth it. Or the little kids that follow us home and test out our language skills and get so excited when we can respond. I love the reverence of the elders. They carry themselves with such pride, such majesty you can feel this solemnity emanating from their very being. It's humbling.

I want to remember the farm animals in the road, on the side of the road and how normal that is here.

And the sky. Each sky has been none the less breath taking than the last with its never ending horizon bordering nothing but green escape where my heart can't help but be convinced that God is real and wanted nothing more than to paint that day.

God paints everyday in Africa. His canvas seems larger here, but I also feel like I personally need the biggest reminder, the biggest hope here.

Seeing those skies and I am renewed. I can't give up on this yet. I need to capture as much of this beauty as I can before I become immune to its invigorating effects.

I refuse not to breathe in this life and get an oxygen high.

And so I will continue at the very least to write.