Highs and Lows

When living in America, I was regularly described as dependable, stable, easy going. Bundibugyo has changed me in many ways. And the wide range of emotions I experience in a day serve as proof. Life here is comprised of extreme highs and extreme lows. While my life in the U.S. was not always the epitome of steady and predictable, I didn’t wake every morning knowing that the day would likely include mountain-top joy and deep valley sorrow—sometimes within the same hour.

Everything seems more intense and heightened here. Within the past week, I have felt hope blossom while teaching a competent employee how to complete the accounting for the nutrition program. I’ve felt joy at holding a sweet five day old baby girl, listening to those gentle newborn sounds. I’ve been impatient at meetings when everyone shows up late. I’ve been sad about missing yet another niece’s birthday. I’ve felt privileged at being introduced in the village as the daughter of my dear friend, Mama Joyce. I’ve been bone-tired from so much human interaction and requests made, as the introvert in me screams for a break. I’ve been re-fueled by a few hours sitting and reading during a rainstorm.

I’ve felt loved as I sifted through mail sent over the past 2 1/2 years from so many people in the States. I’ve felt the bittersweet emotions of starting the packing process—seeing personal touches slowly leave my room here. I’ve felt sorrow as I helped a friend move from the house she shared with her husband into a rented room with her small children; joined in her sadness over his taking another wife and leaving her behind. I’ve felt pride at having extended interactions with people only in Lubwisi, and yet still unsure of exactly how much was understood. I’ve shuddered while hearing updates from our team leader who has just received a cancer diagnosis and relive my own cancer experiences.

I’ve worshiped through a traditional Seder and age-old traditional liturgy. I’ve worshiped to the beat of African drums and enthusiastic dancing. I’ve filled up on kid therapy—swinging a jump rope, complimenting their coloring pages. I’ve groaned as the same kids knock on my door for a solid 45 minutes, as I try to accomplish something in the house.

Every day and week here includes these paradoxes, these polar opposites with a thread of similarity. Some days I feel like I’ll never be emotionally stable again. And yet, I wonder if I over-value stability. Much of me desires predictability, comfort, surety. But in a deep corner of my heart, I know that the lack of stability is good. It makes me dependent. It brings me to my knees. It forces me to feel deeply. And someday very soon I will be missing these highs and lows.