Lamenting a Layover

Hour four of the seven hour layover commences. I have resorted to chocolate muffins and talking to strangers in the Airport. Let's backtrack a bit though, shall we?

While I have been telling people for months that I am headed to Uganda for the summer, I don't think I have quite grasped that myself. I like to plan and over-think everything. High school was my eternal planning purgatory. I planned my summers, my college career, my retirement, and all my life's recreation with a bucket list. Planning means one thing: you never actually are living. Each step taken is never noticed because you are so busying arranging your second, third, and fourth. When you are always planning, it is very strange to start living, something I was forced into this past year. For once I am in the present and not the fog covered future.

Thus with my newfound ability to not plan every step and thought, I figured I should attempt to step out of my comfort zone as much as possible. Step one: chat with other people waiting in line at the airport. Step two: fly to Uganda. Step three: try to assimilate into a new culture. Step four: swim with crocodiles in the Nile.

I have been up since 4:30am. This means other than walking around airports, most of my time has been spent reading. Since I am working for Kitovu Mobile AIDS Organization I keep trying to comprehend as much as possible in regards to AIDS in Uganda. An article here, a book excerpt there. I believe I have a bit of an understanding. However, in all honesty, I am nervous to actually face the emotion of it all. Statistics cannot capture the suffering real people face nor the aftershocks death leaves behind. In just one day, this will all no longer be foreign. It will be tangible, real, and in my face.

Hours of sleep deprivation have compelled me to search for coffee.

Mweraba! (Good bye)