Making a Home

Bushara Island is home to 80+ species of birds. One of these species is the weaver bird. I’m not a huge birder but these guys are awesome. On the occasional morning when I wake up early to catch a little extra quiet time I like to go and sit on one of the docks and watch them build their nests. They build their nests to be fully covered with a tunnel-like entry. There’s one nest I’ve been watching for almost the entire two weeks I’ve been here and they’re still working on it.

Building a house takes time, and we expect it to take time, but building a home also takes time. I’ve been working on making this house and island into a home since the day we arrived and there is still a long way to go. I’ve hung photos on the walls (most of which have fallen down), placed notes and cards from friends on my windowsills and swept the spiders out of the corners of my room but this isn’t home yet.

This island will be home when I stop second-guessing every other word that comes out of my mouth, wondering if I’ve said something culturally unacceptable. It will be home when I can speak enough Rukiga to confidently greet my co-workers who don’t speak English. It will be home when I feel comfortable enough to let loose.

The hugs I received from the kids at church yesterday, the greetings I’ve already learned, the already familiar laughs and smiles, the battery-powered Christmas lights hanging over my bug net, the constant sound of birds, and the bag of guava a co-worker gave us. These are the things that are already making this island into my home.

I’ve learned this lesson before. No matter when or where you move it’s going to be hard. Community takes time to form and every place is different. I think I’m finally starting to learn to embrace the process. It’s messy and often unpleasant but the end result is fully and completely worthwhile. It’s worth fighting through the discomfort of moving and meeting new people because it always ends with another place and group of people to call home. It always ends with a heart that has been stretched and, as a result, has grown.

Photo: This is the one of five docks on Bushara Island and by far the best for swimming. The Island you can see across the water is Bwama Island. It's owned by the Anglican church and houses two schools, a church, the agroforesty plot where Rachel works and a medical clinic that you can see on the far right of this photo. Bwama Island is one of the biggest islands on Lake Bunyonyi and used to be a leper colony. My goal is to be able to swim there and back by the time we leave... it's further than it looks.

Intentionality.

The last time I posted anything on here was a month ago. That means I have been home for two months now. Why do I constantly try to attach the happenings of my life to certain periods of calendar time? Maybe I should strive to worry less about days and months and worry more about the changes/improvements that occur within those periods of time.

I am so thankful for the time I have had here to live in a rhythm. Working, sleeping, eating are slowly beginning to meld together into a simple and beautiful pattern. It's nice to wake up without an alarm. It's nice to head out on a run and simply go where my feet lead because I know that wherever I end up will never be so far from home that I can't find my way back. It's nice to be able to count on eight hours of sleep almost every night. It's nice to go to church every Sunday and see people I know and love seeing.   It's nice to be able to just go with the flow. 

When I'm traveling, or in any new place, that isn't an option. I'm starting to miss the rapids- the times when going with the flow is not an option because there simply is not an apparent flow. Don't get me wrong, I love the ease of going with the flow, but I also know that with familiar territory comes stagnancy. Yes. That's actually a word and yes it fits my situation exactly. I have the feeling that my growth has been stunted. Like an awkward 15 year old boy who grew a foot in a month except then suddenly found himself in a state of malnourishment. I can look back on what I learned while I was in Uganda and Europe and practically wrap it up in a package but find it very hard to point out things I have learned in the past two months.

Growth at home requires an exhausting amount of intentionality. Traveling is exhausting but it forces growth because there isn't another option. It's pretty much either growth and exhaustion or failure. At home growth it is easy to avoid. I don't enjoy the feeling of exhaustion that seems to so often be paired with growth and at home I have the option to avoid that exhaustion.

Basically... having to be intentional is lame.

I don't like it.

But it's good for me.

Therefore I now embark on a wonderful journey of intentionality.

Intentionally learning more about God.
Intentionally becoming a better friend.
Intentionally learning more about how the world works (aka the stuff I hope one day might be related to my career).

Intentional: deliberate, calculated, conscious, intended, planned, willful, studied, purposeful, premeditated, preplanned, preconceived.

Sounds fun. NOT.

Oh the difficulty of wanting to grow. 

Returning Home

One month ago I had the honor of returning home.

I came back to this place after four months of being in Uganda and two months traveling in Europe (plus two summers of working in Canada and two years of college). I have never been so happy to sleep in the same bed, in the same room, in the same house, in the same city, in the same state, in the same country for so many days in a row. The sameness of it all is nice, but partly because it isn't all the same.

Like they should, some things have changed. My community here has changed. Most of my friends are away at college and the few that are not have also changed. My family has changed. My church has changed. These communities have changed in so many subtle ways it is sometimes hard to see the growth that has occurred. It becomes even more complicated to see and view these changes positively when the lens with which I view each of these communities has also changed.

How can I begin to compare what exists now to what used to exist? I don't want to fall back into the roles I played within each of these areas of my life but I don't know how to fight this temptation. It seems that each of these communities has in some way embraced my return by opening up the mould in which I used to fit.

The things is, I don't necessarily fit into the moulds I used to slide into so easily. Trying to fit seems easy at first but I'm very quickly finding out that it doesn't quite work. I've changed, but the mould has also changed. Maybe I could slowly return the mould to the shape it used to be... or I could make the more difficult choice, allowing myself to not fit into the mould until I know it's the right mould for me.

Can I make the decision to simply float here until I have figured out where my place should be in these beautiful communities?

If there is anything I have learned in the past couple years it is that my role in the communities I find myself is important. I can help a community to grow or I can tear it down. I can allow it to change me for the better or, if I'm not careful, I can find myself being torn down. Maybe for now it is best to remain on the outside looking in, objectively trying to see both flaws and strengths. One day soon I will be able to fit into the mould I belong in without unknowingly throwing off the delicate balance within these communities. It's okay to not belong for a little while longer for the sake of one day finding a place I can really belong.

When Leaving is Fashionable (UB#8)

I see a trend among my peers towards fixating on leaving home… we are confused when people do not have a plan to leave the place they grew up. There are so many issues leaving home has forced me to face that I wouldn’t take back… but I don’t think seeing more of the world will somehow make your life ‘better.’ It will probably force you to expand your mind and yes, travel will be a temporary escape from what might be eating you up, but you’re going to find more problems and then you’re going to go home to problems and you’re going to be carrying remnants of the problems you found along the way.  Those problems might be the fact that you have found out that your own worldview is not unquestionable or simply that in coming home you had to leave friends you love. Travel is not a cure to life’s problems and if I’m correct in thinking that that is how it is often portrayed something needs to change. We cannot go on lying to ourselves about how wonderful it is to travel. Being gone from home for a prolonged amount of time is incredibly difficult and sometimes even painful yet we continue to pass on the lie that it is all fun and games. It is easy to pass on funny stories about crazy places and unusual people-- it is harder to pass on the power of the emotions that will sometimes overwhelm you when you find yourself thousands of miles away from anyone that has known you longer than two months. We ache to be known by others. Leaving home means sacrificing the craving we have to experience love through being known. We should not go on trying to share the experience of leaving home if we are not willing to share both sides of the experience. It is lying when we are not willing to admit that our experiences away from home are not only positive.  

Rural Homestay (UB#7)

It is really difficult to know where to start writing about something that I haven’t even really begun to process. I spent the past week in rural Uganda. I stayed with a wonderful family, ate wonderful food (even if I never want to see another groundnut, peanut, or anything that in any way resembles either), and somehow I think my brain grew. I learned that a hut is a home, that making less than $2 a day does not mean you’re starving, and that I really don’t like ants/spiders/snakes/rats. I’m sure I’ll be blogging more in the next couple weeks, but for now, the thought of thinking about the past week makes me feel tired… so here is a poor quality video that is probably a better representation of the past week than anything I could say right now!

jokes. that video probs doesn't work. just gonna have to wait till the internet is stronger.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VXqtj36DqQs&feature=youtu.be

I Am From

I am from dookies

From clothe napkins and oatmeal cookies

I am from green shag carpet

Fresh homemade food

I am from blackberry bushes

Manure that smells fresh

I am from dance parties and Christmas morning stocking

From Kiki and Hambone

I’m from Christmas with family from far, far away

I’m from Jesus as Saviour and family comes second

And walking and leaping and singing for joy

I’m from long family dinners

I’m from still trying to figure out home and being a dual

Frito pie and lots of spaghetti

From global family and family of blood

I’m from family that grows every time I move

Family that means saying goodbye

Family that means see you again one day.

I'm from see you again someday.

(inspired by SYNCHROBLOG: I Am From)