Stopping time

I got back to The States last Friday. I was met by the whole of my family at the airport, and we all went out for Mexican food (a definite plus for me given there is a serious absence of authentic Mexican food in Africa.) To some extent, it's good to be home. It’s good that I can go get anything I want at Wal-Mart, and its great that I have my own car and can visit with the friends i grew up with. Indeed, a part of being back is really, really nice.

Being in Africa makes you remember all the things that you love about America, but being here makes me remember all of the things that I hate--it reminds my why I ran off to Africa in the first place. Honestly, it's not that this isn’t a good place to live--it’s just not the place for me to live.

Sitting outside of a friend’s house in Kampala, I took this picture of the rain beyond the veranda. Within this photo, I’ve stopped time, which in that moment is exactly what my heart wanted to do to reality. I wish I could still be there. I wish I could have stopped time.

But I didn’t, and there is a whole new world ahead of me. I start college in little more than a week. As much as I dread it, I know there are boundless gains from a higher education, and a plethora of opportunities will be opened up in the next 4 years.

Still, ill have the thought of leaving on my mind, just as it stayed with me through high school after my first expedition to Africa. A part of that excites me, because I know that such a desire has power, and that before I know it, I’ll be back where I belong.