R&R

A week in Uganda found me more tired than I realized I was. 

I still slept nearly 10 hours a night, but also took a nap every morning and every afternoon my first three days there. I didn't leave Entebbe, I barely ate, barely moved, barely read... just slept.

It took two full days for my heart to beat at a regular pace, for the adrenaline that pumps through my veins every day and night to relent a bit and let me breathe and think. I needed it.

After three days I was ready to face the world and decided to go to Kampala. The driver asked me why, I told him I wanted to go shopping. He started suggesting various handicraft stores... I interrupted him and told him I was more interested in toothpaste, soap and a new pair of pants. I found what I wanted, made some friends at the Red Chili and went out for a movie and Ethiopian food. It was oddly normal.

I sat at a coffee shop reading the Economist, marveling at how the world seems to spin at a different pace depending on where you are standing in it. The week felt like it was dragging on forever. Just what I needed.

We headed on to Jinja where I white water rafted the Nile. Two days before I didn't even know one of the sources of the Nile was in Uganda, much less raftable. I only saw a crocodile after I got out safe.

It was at Two Friends in Jinja that I decided to take just a quick peek at my work emails.

There went one of my Rs.

The LRA attacked 7km outside of Ango. They kidnapped more than 20 people (one of whom I know), took food and other supplies from the village that already has basically nothing. All movement of our teams stopped, the security level was raised and all I could do was monitor emails.

My teammate was right she sent me, saying that there is never a good time to go on R&R, but it is necessary. As much as I wanted to be there with my team I realized that had that happed on my watch, while I was absolutely spent already, I might not have had much more to give and might not have been able to handle the situation well, which is worse than having your backup plan handle it.

I am writing this from Ango. All is calm, the adults have been released, we have yet to have news of the 11 children and the community is obviously shaken and unnerved. There have been no other incidents and we are once again resuming work in the surrounding area.

All of the problems that were here before I left are still here. As a matter of fact, most of them have grown more complicated in my absence, not disappeared like I had hoped. But something like that can really put your priorities in place. I am finding myself less concerned that partner organizations are upset that we don't play volleyball more times a week or that all my boxes of western food couldn't fit on the flight.

Priorities this week:
How to keep my teams and the communities they serve safe
Get the HF radio up and working for communication
How detour venomous snakes from our compound
Preparing for my first official audit
Not get malaria (I am the only one here who hasn't)
Keep calm and carry on... quite literally

I am glad for a clear head. Glad for the space to sort things out. In a way glad to see that though things may not run as smoothly, they do not fall apart when I am not here. I am glad to have a team that supports me.


No particular insight here. No real story.
Just some things on the top of my head as I head into a new week.