Why are we all here?

Every once in awhile we have conversations with other ex-pats. We all commiserate on things like the bugs, the garbage along the roads, the slow walkers in front of us. Some of our friends are anxious to go home, others consider this home.

Our friend Chris was crossing Jinja Road when he snapped a muscle in his calf, ouch. He has been here for three years and is in no hurry to get home. He's afraid, a bit, of being bored, worried about how he will handle things when he is back in the real world. (Hmm, which IS the real world?)

We think our friend William, erstwhile of BeadforLife and now working at another NGO, says it best. William is from the US and has been here for almost 20 years (!). He's planning to retire to Tanzania where he owns some land and has built a little house. When we ask him why he is still here, he says, "I am addicted to chaos." He's serious. And we understand it. There is something about the frantic movement, constantly having to be on your toes, that keeps you, well, alive.

This last Sunday I went to church, yes it's true. I love the Luganda Mass at Our Lady of Africa up the hill. On the way home I attached myself to a young man crossing the street (that's the best way to get across! Stick with the locals). He had a bulletin from the church in his hand. As we walked along, straddling drainage ditches and piles of plastic garbage, he said, "Welcome back from prayers." And then we chatted about things until I turned in our gate. He didn't want anything from me, just liked talking.

Almost every time we head out into the Kampala world, there is - yes - chaos, but also this attachment to another human being. What will it be like when we are home in a week?