Coming to America

So; I had the unique experience of going to America for two weeks. How was it?
First of all, I had been looking forward to several things; seeing family members, eating key foods, eating while walking, holding a clean and diapered baby, and being in a place where one can remain clean for over two minutes. Save the family members, none of the other stuff mattered. Furthermore, I could not stand the artificial flavors, corn syrup, sugar, and just chemical yuck I could taste in everything (especially the ice cream I had very much anticipated).
I enjoyed seeing my family members, but I felt a bit guilty around them. Here they are all facing the real challenges of life in the US from which I am free. I am free from their monotonous routines, their real political and public policy concerns, and their concerns of family and children. I also felt like a very irresponsible person. Here I am in Uganda just following my dreams, while my aunts, uncles, and grandparents had all settled down and done something productive with their lives by my age. One of my aunts finally asked when I would be getting a real job, to which I had no guaranteed reply.
Furthermore, my uncle (a successful engineer) was able to upgrade my seat to first class on the way back to Uganda. Between elegant sips of champagne and nibbles of roasted cashews, cheese, and crackers, I was able to glance at the man next to me. He was more of a lump than a man, but he seemed to be in his mid twenties. He talked to his wife phone, had M.D. embroidered on his belongings, and took a very self- satisfied nap in his cocoon. I sat, thinking—If I was really responsible, I would not have followed such crazy dreams; I could have become just like that doctor lump. I am a hot mess.
HOWEVER—after that brief reflection, I read Jared Diamond’s book, Collapse, and it makes me even more determined to pursue public policy and social issues globally. I also heard about the last being first and the first being last in today’s Runyancore sermon. What is the meaning of life? I still, as a crazy, irresponsible idealist, cannot accept that it is to just reach professional and monetary success, have a family, and produce children. What if it is to live a sustainable, simple lifestyle and help, in some small measure, to bring sustainability and peace to others? I read that a person in the developed world, on average, uses 32 times the resources of one in the developing world. That is not success. That is failure that overreaches the bounds of a lifetime or even a generation. And all of the stuff represented in it is absolutely meaningless.
Despite the cheese, crackers, lamb medallions and champagne—I did not sleep well in the first class. I much preferred my economy seat on which I had traveled to the US. I had the opportunity to talk and share photos with an Engineer without Borders working in Nepal, a war correspondent working in Afghanistan and Haiti, and sleep very well without any cocoon.