When I said I was going to write a blog
post on love I got a few strange looks. So just to clarify, I’m not about to
write about a Ugandan guy (or a North American guy J). This is about the concept of falling love with a culture, a
place, a group of people. Before coming here I was told I would fall in love
with Africa. And, being naïve, I kinda thought that meant I would walk out of
the airport into Uganda, and then I would never want to leave. Turns out it
just isn’t that easy. I don’t feel ‘in love’ with this place. Yes, the rolling
hills have on occasion captured my attention, up to this point, there have been
moments of true appreciation, but nothing I would call love. Maybe this love is
something that has to grow out of that appreciation. People say that when you
fall in love, the character of the man slowly begins to overshadow his physical
appearance. I do not yet know the true character of Uganda. I don’t know the
heart of this country, the passion of the people, their sense of humour, or even
the things that drive daily life here. I hope I fall in love, but even if I don't,
I am thankful for this opportunity to grow in my appreciation for another way
of life. I am grateful for this opportunity to find out where home is. I’m
grateful that this is forcing me to learn about my own heart.
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