An Unexpected Journey

“To the end of his days Bilbo could never remember how he found himself outside, without a hat, a walking-stick or any money, or anything that he usually took with him when he went out; leaving his second breakfast half-finished and quite unwashed-up, pushing his keys into Gandalf’s hands, and as fast as his furry feet could carry him down the lane, past the great Mill, across The Water, and then on for a mile or more.”  As you are probably more than aware, I love The Hobbit because it is a story so reflective of life.  In fact, much like Bilbo (my hobbit counterpart), I do not think that I will ever be able to comprehend what has happened in my life in 2015. Let’s do a quick recap of the past eight months, shall we?  In January, I boarded a plane to take me to a random town in Uganda to live, study, and intern for four months.  It was one of the biggest risks I had taken in my life up to that point.  My biggest struggle was trying to answer the question:...

One month ago, I stepped off of a plane into the unfamiliar familiar land of America after living in Uganda for three months.   I left Uganda hopelessly heartbroken and incredibly weary as to what to do next.   While I am the biggest work in progress alive, I (slowly but surely) have been finding restoration and have gained a greater sense of who I am as well as who I would like to become.   It can be extremely difficult trying to reintegrate back into “normal” life after living a completely different type of normal for an extended period of time.   Here’s a little update on my life outside of Uganda: It was only a few days into my reintegration process that I was able to land a part-time job at fast-food restaurant.   Please do not ask me how it happened because I still do not know how I was able to get a job after only a few days back in the states.   I was instantly thrown into a situation that felt like it was way over my head, but remained surpris...

My spirit has had a rough couple of weeks.   There are no words to describe the extreme, mixed range of emotions that have been swirling through my heart.   It has surely been a tough time for me in ways that very few people can understand.   But there is more to the story than my grief alone.   While I am by no means over the entire situation that has exploded in my life one week ago, I cannot look back on my experiences in Uganda without feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude.   I am tremendously thankful for so many people and experiences that I have been able to have over the past three months.   It is through this gratitude that I am slowly finding healing and hope for whatever the future may hold.   I have created a very short list of my “thankful moments” for you to be able to experience a small tinge of the great joy I was able to find in a tiny country called Uganda.        ...

One month before leaving for Uganda!  Friends don't let friends study abroad alone. She stands on the stage in front of her entire community dreading the moment that is about to happen.   There is nothing that she can do to save herself from her fate because it has been sealed by those at the very top of society.   She sheds a tear as her name is called, once again, to enter into a horrible “game” that is an almost guarantee to take her life away.   There is no one who can take her place and there is nothing she can do to get herself out of this situation.     The only thing that she can do is prepare herself for what is to come and maintain hope that all will be well. Over the course of the past few days, I have been feeling a lot like what Katniss Everdeen must have felt standing on the stage (as described above) to be reaped for the Quarter Quell.   I like to vicariously live through fictional characters because novels present stories t...

I am sitting in the back of my sister’s shop watching television.   It is my first day at my Serere home stay and miscommunication with my family has led me to this spot.   I can tell that she is trying to please me and puts on strange American shows that I would never watch back home instead.   One of the shows is titled “Fashion Police”, in which a group of celebrities critique the fashion decisions of other celebrities.   It is entertaining to watch but I soon find myself displeased with the fact that we find satisfaction in micro-analyzing every detail of someone’s life, regardless of Hollywood status.   A few days later, I am a visitor at a neighbor’s home.   I am seated in the Ugandan equivalent of a Laz-E Boy and am treated with the highest honor because I am an American guest.   This treatment makes me feel uncomfortable because I know it is simply due to my nationality.   Suddenly, I am taken back to my sister’s shop watching pointl...

Uganda is no longer some far-away country where I wanted to go and study for four months; Uganda has become a place of comfort.   I have found myself using terms like “home” to describe a location that I desperately wanted to leave not so long ago.   I am caught up in living life where I am at that I have been neglecting some of my responsibilities (Sorry, mom!).   This is the reason for my lack in sharing many blog posts.   But I hope I have a way to make it up to you!   This post is going to contain more pictures than my previous posts and will contain short summaries of my experiences.    The cows gathering in the yard for their daily drink My rural home stay was learning the importance of being over doing.   Most of my time with my family was spent sitting around and in silence with others.   Whether it was in the “kitchen”, in the back of my brother’s shop, or in a neighbor’s home, I spent a plethora of time simply being pres...

I puked.   Not what you were expecting to hear, eh?   It somehow feels like I have successfully completed some sort of right of passage ceremony and now belong to an official club of travelers.   It was not the vomit itself that was the worst part of the experience, though.   I did not want to puke alone.   It sounds strange because most people would want to be alone during such a lowly moment, but I longed for the comfort of someone to be present with me during my feelings of agony.   I wanted someone to care for me.   Instead, I was alone…in the dark…outside with my waste bin and had to pull myself together enough to care for my own well-being.   But was I really alone ? On the way home from my practicum site that same day, I was talking with Jesus.   In the midst of my prayers, I heard Jesus say to me, “Emilia, I will take care of you.   Trust me.”   Though I did not know what it would mean, I decided to trust Jesus to m...