Goodbye For Now, America. Uganda, I’ll See You Soon.

My flight to London leaves in 10 hours, and I still need to do some essential things like turn my phone off, get money for a visa, and pack six months of my life into a rucksack; last minute lifestyle. If I can sleep on the plane I’ll spend tomorrow haunting around London, but I don’t see that happening. Heathrow’s Terminal 4, with its hotel and moderately priced bar will probably serve as my home until I leave for Entebbe at 9pm Tuesday night. 

I’ve already tried my best to provide some introspective thoughts on this trip, and now I feel inadequately prepared to say anything worth reading. I’m sure I’ll get a twinge of nervous reality once I get to the airport, but right now I can’t think beyond this cup of coffee and questioning what Tiki Barber is doing on CNN. I can’t do much more than deal with things as they’re presented to me at this point, although I’ll try for the sake of anybody reading this. 

I guess I’m going into this trip a little less naïve, probably a little more jaded, and ultimately aware of my motives behind volunteering again. Right now I’m barely thinking about that, though. I’m thinking about seeing my friends and laughing over a Nile, and seeing the kids and the progress they’ve made in the past year. I’m thinking about the power of a soccer match and the beauty of an overcrowded classroom. 

Ultimately though, I’m looking forward to cheating life. That’s really how I view the next six months when taking it from a selfish perspective. Part of it has to do with the fact that I have no clue what I want out of this life, and the other part has to do with the fact that I absolutely know what I don’t want out of this life. I envy people who get paid doing the former, but I’m quite happy avoiding the latter for free. If I can be cliché and holier than thou for a second, I’ll say that there is no greater freedom than working toward personal fulfillment and striving for a universal positive. It's better than waking up for a paycheck, at least.

Thank you for the last 350 days, Harrisonburg. You will always be home, and I can’t thank you all enough for letting me sleep on your couches (seriously, Angela and Wade are patient saints with all of us), move into your houses for a few months (Alex, Bill, Erin and your cute, miserable cats), and everyone else who made the last year so much fun.

Goodbye for now, America. Uganda, I’ll see you soon.