When I first arrived back from my visit to the US, I went to the the peace corps office. The woman guard asked where I had been and I simply said that I had not been in Kampala. She said,"You're back from the US, aren't you!" I asked how she knew and she replied that she saw the "US glow" on me. For the next three days, I recall more blind optimism, cheerfulness, and flexibility than usual. Then, things went back to normal.
The one year mark, which I just passed, is usually the time when the grime from bucket bathing has built to significant degree, the uphill walking has made us move a bit slowly, the starch overload has given us (women) a bit of bulk, and the personal and professional difficulties of being in a third world country have come out in full swing; in short, most of the glow is gone.
A few weeks ago, however, a shiny new volunteer moved into my village. Yesterday, I experienced an abundant shower of American optimism and youthful ambition-- the new volunteer and I met with motorcycle drivers and talked about STI's, we went jogging on the path that I couldn't travel on alone and tried to buy local fruit, then we made plans to visit a local orphanage and a handicapped child. My village, once again, became a world of opportunity, and my dusty Runyancore dictionary and notes are once again opened. Who knows when we will both be forbidden to jog, when our ambitions will become bogged down, and the facade of being needed will end. At least, however, I was able to take a refreshing plunge in optimism-- even though as I get out of the pool, I have to step onto the muddy, wet, washed out road-- back to Uganda. Now, at least, I might have someone to travel along that muddy road with!
No comments:
Post a Comment