Home

It's almost exactly one year since I boarded the plane to Uganda. My dearest fellow intern reminded me of this fact yesterday and it got me to thinking and feeling a bit nostalgic. I should be doing a million other things right now but I felt the need to spew out some of my thoughts into semi-coherent words. Lately, perhaps because of my impending quarter of a century birthday, I've been continuing my contemplation of home and the direction of my life. A brief review of my life would show that it's clear I've never been one of those oh so lucky people who had a pretty clear path from the beginning. My life "plan" changes approximately every day and my plans never work out the way I envision either.

Certainly, my generation is one of wanderers. Our priorities and goals have shifted and we have opportunities at our fingertips that our parents didn't. But regardless of the lifestyle changes of my generation, there is something to be said about having roots. Perhaps you travel the whole world and stretch and grow and scatter some seeds in different places, but there are still roots to hold your ever growing leaves and branches in place, to allow you to weather a storm, to remind you of who you are. But the concept of roots is difficult for me. Yes, I have clear citizenship, I have a place in the US where I have spent a significant amount of time (and it is significant!). But when someone asks me where I'm from and I'm forced to specify a state, it makes me pause. How do you really determine where you're from? Where you've spent the most time? Where most of your friends are? Where you identify the most culturally? Where your family is? I would  give a different location if I answered each of those questions separately. Over the last week, I've interacted with old friends, new friends, random acquaintances and strangers and the common theme of the week has been home. One wise new acquaintance told me that you always return home and kept asking me where home is. When he was finally exasperated by my unclear answers he said: "find a place then and make it home".

Human beings want to belong somewhere. I think I have been gifted with the talent of being able to adapt very effortlessly in many different environments--the ability to make any place my home. But, increasingly I have this desire to find a place, or at least accept the life of a nomad. Even for me it does get tiring constantly making new friends, packing and unpacking, and often explaining myself to people. There are very, very few people in the world who know the full Rachel and with each new place I move the number of people who really know me does not increase. What makes up Rachel instead constantly changes, making old friends unfamiliar, and new friends familiar.

I've loved all the places I've lived. I've disliked parts of all the places I've lived. And I've perhaps too harshly criticized all the places I've lived. Maybe I will find a place. Maybe I will grow roots. Or maybe I will simply let people be my roots. I will let strong friendships allow me to weather storms and make me feel secure. I'm becoming increasingly convinced that places can be taken away from you and perhaps I'm stronger by putting my trust in God and friendships than becoming perhaps too comfortable in one place.

Back to work! And this old post is also what sparked my thoughts (even though it is a bit unrelated).

Some things to think about

This post is completely unrelated to travel, Rachel, school or pretty much any other topic on this blog, but I've been doing a lot of thinking about the recent Connecticut shooting. Many of you probably already know my views and thoughts on the situation but regardless of what I think, it's time that all Americans really sit down and think about this problem. Many of my European friends approached me attempting to understand the shocking (to them and to me) pro-gun reactions of their American friends on facebook, and I also attempted to explain how different the culture is in the US and how deep rooted our gun culture is (even the fact that gun ownership is mentioned in our constitution). Although I am fully convinced that the situation is far more complex than just stricter gun control, I really, really want to encourage anyone reading this post to do some serious research on the varying viewpoints in this debate. I've found a lot of statistics that suggest that guns could play a large role in the problem. So if you're reading this, would you please take a moment to read the articles I'm posting below and challenge yourself? Be skeptical, read different viewpoints, find statistics, question the statistics, think about the big picture, and think about the world. As a former engineer/person who can't get numbers out of my head, I like numbers. I believe they can prove hypotheses, and often tell stories better than words. However, numbers are also very dangerous. It is far too easy to collect data and make correlations between unrelated variables, or skew statistics or only present partial numbers. Lastly, if you have some well researched, well written, and solidly argued resources for either side of the debate; I would also be delighted to read them.  What I do not want to read are rude, ignorant, and angry comments.

Some statistics

The case of Switzerland

Weapons continuum 

Why gun control is not enough

Swiss gun culture

More on the cases of Switzerland and Isreal there is an interesting research paper linked to this article and I am going to try and get my hands on it through University permissions.

Facts on guns in the US I would suggest also reading the links that the author has posted to do some fact checking. 

Random Thoughts

I don't really make New Year's resolutions but if I were to one of them would be to write more and update this blog more. Compared to my thoughts and posts in Uganda I feel like I have nothing significant to say about life in the Netherlands. Someone has already written "Stuff Dutch People Like" (I may create a Ugandan version though, now that I no longer work for SP), I'm generally not confronted with daily life-changing lessons like in Uganda nor do I have the strange cultural interactions of Korea. However, since I know some people read this blog to simply keep updated on my life, I thought I would share random thoughts, events, and stories periodically (probably only when I'm procrastinating on doing something else, like right now). The last month and half, although lacking in the daily challenges that Ugandan life provided, has had its own share of humorous and unfortunate events.

• I truly am my father's daughter. When our apartment was broken into in November I had arrived home very late from a football match in Amsterdam. Upon arrival I noticed that our kitchen window was open. Often our apartment gets stuffy and we open the window; therefore I just assumed this was why it was open. Since it was late I also assumed my roommate was already in bed and didn't bother actually checking her room. Exhausted and just as I was about to dose off my roommate knocks on my door in a panic asking if I had opened her window. No. Shortly thereafter we discovered that both our laptops were missing. As any normal person would react my roommate was a bit panicked: "We've been robbed!" Since by this point it was about 4 am and the only thought on my mind was sleep, I couldn't bring myself to feel panicked or stressed. The problem could be sorted in the morning right? Fortunately, my roommate convinced me to call the police and have them come and file a report. Again, like a normal person she was unable to sleep while I promptly collapsed into bed and fell into a deep slumber only thinking about the 9 am meeting I had the next day. I have now warned her that I am virtually incapable of doing significant tasks at night and it's best just to force me to do things. In the morning however my reasoning capabilities are at their best and my mind is free and clear to do anything. This realization is a bit frightening, knowing how my dad reacts to similar late night catastrophes. 
• In the last month I have managed to take the wrong key off my keychain when leaving for a run only to get locked out of my apartment, get hit on my bike by a scooter (not my fault), and drop my key off my eight story balcony into thick bushes below. So much for life in Holland being boring compared to Uganda. Perhaps my constant need for change and adventure has caused me to subconsciously create misfortunes to keep life interesting. 
• For the first time in my life, I've found a church that I love and am beginning to feel a part of. It is diverse, has a big focus on social justice, and is filled with well traveled inspiring individuals. 
• Loving the work you're doing makes a remarkable difference when you're very busy and overloaded with work. Although I've never been a slacker per se, when faced with work I dislike my motivation is extremely low. For the first time, I might almost be considered an over-achiever (but this is still too strong a word to use). 
• Delft feels so much like home it's actually terrifying. Although I've wanted a dog for some time, my dog yearnings are getting stronger and stronger and may actually materialize into taking action (don't tell my apartment company). 
• On a similar note, I really think I'm aging (or perhaps finally becoming mature?). Although lately I've been having some serious wanderlust pangs, I've also been considering not studying abroad next year because I feel so settled and happy in Delft (What?!). I have little to no desire to stay out late on weekends and would much prefer going to bed early and waking up early to go running (okay, maybe this isn't a change... haha!). I actually spend money on proper food without having a heart attack about the cost. And most recently I came to the realization that maybe it's occasionally worth spending 50 euros more to fly on a proper airline or save hassle in some other area. I've also contemplated foregoing the hours and days that I often spend evaluating any major purchase for its thriftiness. Perhaps the next step will be reducing my risky behavior (probably not likely if I am my father's daughter)? 
• Visiting the US truly felt like a visit. And with each return I feel more and more disconnected in the US. Sometimes this makes me very sad but I think it's too late to fix it. I was frightened at the seemingly unnecessarily wide roads, frustrated with all the driving we had to do (I think the distance I traversed would have carried me through all of the Netherlands), and shocked at the clothes that some Americans felt were appropriate to be in public in (I'm not judging, it just surprised me. The scary thing is used to be one of those people and now I find it shocking). On the other hand, I appreciated the diversity (even though the Netherlands is also quite diverse), friendliness of random strangers, and the long time friendships I have in the US. I love my family and American friends dearly and I don't know how to resolve this love with my love of the unknown and new and the feeling that my heart is scattered all over the world. For those of you who perceive my confusion over perhaps common Americanisms as dislike for my country or snobbishness  I apologize that it may have come across that way. Try living in four different countries, surrounded by an extremely diverse group of people for 2.5 years and then try to reintegrate into your old life. It's virtually impossible. 
• After spending most of my life wishing I had played soccer, I am finally on a team and loving every minute of it. Even though I lack skills, I am getting lots of positive feedback and help. It's never too late to start something new! 

On a concluding note, my visit to the US also reminded me how all my friends are in different places in life. While I suspect we can't all completely relate to each other since so much has changed over the last two plus years, I deeply appreciate and value all my friendships. I sincerely hope we can continue to stay in touch and understand each other in spite of our different places in life. Likely I will never reach many of the life goals some people have set for themselves and I'm sure that most people will not have any desire to do the ridiculous things I do. Regardless of the direction our lives go, I love you all and hope that we can continue to stay in touch! 

Lessons from 2012

As indicated by the date of my last post my blogging habits have been rather dismal for the last few months. Besides the excuse of the increasing busyness of school, the fact that I was robbed and have been laptop-less for the past month in half has been the main contributor to my lack of writing. After a lovely week and a half of catching up with family and friends in the arctic weather of Ann Arbor, Michigan and Chicago, I'm back in "warm" Delft.

Since it's a new year and the new year always brings about the opportunity for reflection, I've been thinking about the lessons that I learned from 2012. 2012 was a year of transitions perhaps more than any other year in my life and with each of these transitions brought rich learning experiences. I am enormously grateful for the people I've been blessed to meet this year, the beautiful places I've seen, and the unpredictability of 2012 that taught me more about myself and the world.

Lessons from 2012:

1. Almost nothing in the world is black and white. 
For much of my life, I tended to view the world in black and white or right and wrong. My somewhat mathematical mind that gravitates towards the concrete and seeks solutions, only reinforced this worldview. In engineering school, there was always a right answer to be found, an equation that could be applied to find a solution, and rules that governed behaviour. Slowly, I've been learning that life and most of the world's problems cannot be solved through an engineering approach (although the problem solving skills that engineering taught me have been invaluable). Democracy is not the "right" system of governance. Development problems are so complex and multi-faceted that a solution or solutions seem completely inadequate. Even the existence of a "problem" can be debated: what is viewed as a problem to one party, might be a solution to another.

Now I prefer to view the world in color, trying to open the color wheel of my mind to new possibilities, theories, solutions, problems, and people. In light of the recent tragedy in Connecticut and all the debate surrounding it, I sincerely hope that we can open our minds to first acknowledge that there is a problem in our country, then seek to accept that there may be many possible solutions and combinations of solutions. I may share my views on this tragedy later but for now I encourage everyone (myself included) to think about how multi-faceted the problem may be and how it may require us to fundamentally alter our culture (because culture is not right or wrong).

This year I've learned that while the western world views Uganda's astronomically high fertility rate as a problem, Uganda views it as a solution. While the sanctions on Iran can be seen as more "effective" and probably a better alternative to violent action, they have placed significant burden on ordinary Iranians more so perhaps than the government. While affordable/practically free education can lead to highly educated citizens and zero to low debt for graduated students, it can also lead to less motivation and longer time to finish studies. While high taxes (particularly for the wealthy)  might be seen as unfair or restricting capitalism, they also provide services such as low cost education, high quality and affordable healthcare, and good infrastructure and public transit. While foreign aid can prevent starvation, it can also promote a culture of dependency and stifle real economic growth.

Viewing the world in color doesn't necessarily mean sacrificing morals, it just means stretching your mind to view the world through a different lens. I'm thankful for the experiences of 2012 that "colored" my worldview.

2. Life is short. 
Prior to 2012 I had experienced a few deaths of those close to me, but living in Uganda brought the reality of the briefness of life to the forefront. The sudden death of our project driver in Uganda and the daily news of staff family member deaths (often children), made me both grateful for the quality healthcare I've received and made me think more closely about how I can make the time (how ever long that may be) given me count.

I hope that I can remember to make every day meaningful and treasure the time I have with those that are close to me.

3. Relationships are far more valuable than things. 
This lesson may seem a bit basic and is something I could have preached about years ago, but 2012 brought many reminders of the lasting value in human relationships. Naturally, living in the developing world reminds you about how belongings do not bring happiness and living in Uganda forced me to re-think how to simplify my life. Living simply has never come too difficultly for me, mostly due to my lifelong borderline obsession with saving money. My difficulty has come more in re-evaluating my relationship with money. I've never had the dream of being a CEO or becoming a millionaire or even being rich. Perhaps compared to many, I own very little, but certainly compared to most of the world's population I live a life of luxury. Ironically, 2012's biggest lesson in money did not come from Uganda but rather in the Netherlands.

Approximately six weeks ago my apartment was robbed and my laptop stolen. For much of the last year I was living in sub-Saharan Africa, knowing that I should always be aware of the risk of theft. Fortunately, I was never robbed. I still have a hard time believing that I was robbed in the Netherlands, but I am actually thankful for the experience. Surprisingly, after losing my laptop the only thing I found myself upset about was the loss of some photos and documents--irreplaceable items. The experience made me realize how "stuff" is almost always replaceable and brings very little long term joy. Human beings and memories are not replaceable and therefore relationships, not bank accounts should grow and develop. While I still do not enjoy spending money, I am extremely grateful that I had the money to purchase a new laptop and although I still place high value on being financially responsible, I hope I can waste more energy in cultivating meaningful friendships than stressing about spending money.

4. Dogs sadly have shorter lives than humans. 
Perhaps this lesson is one I should have learned long ago, but somehow I never imagined coming back to Michigan without being greeted by the best dog in the world: Unser. On December 20th, 2012, Unser was put down. I will never forget Unser's love for the snow, his excitement over going for a run with me, his love of human beings and other dogs, his dislike of being alone, his love of killing innocent creatures such as fawns and baby rabbits, his love of sleeping on the couch in spite of his knowledge that he wasn't allowed to, and his stubbornness.

I will never understand why dogs mean so much to human beings and why we become so attached to them. Perhaps it's the unconditionally, non-judgmental love they display. Either way, Unser had a special place in my heart and I will forever miss him.

5. Human beings can get along in spite of differences. 
Over the last year, I've had the privilege of meeting and making friends with: Americans, Ugandans, Kenyans, Irish, Italians, English, Zimbabweans, South Africans, Koreans, Iranians, Dutch, Germans, Turkish, French, Greeks, Chinese, Vietnamese, Indonesians, and many more that I'm probably forgetting. Many of these people come from countries that do not have good relationships with the US government, most of them have different beliefs and culture than me, but in spite of all outside differences I've learned so much from these people and I can't imagine life without them. Reading the world news depresses me, but when I spend time with the wonderful people who I've crossed paths with I'm filled with hope for our world. I truly do believe that human beings can get along in spite of differences.

There are probably a million more smaller lessons that 2012 taught me but I'll conclude with this thought: on my birthday last year I was asked the question of what one thing do I want to accomplish by my next birthday (which is rapidly approaching). I answered that I hope to be in grad school in the Netherlands. At the time my answer scared me because the last year and half had been filled with rejections (a concept that I wasn't familiar with), but amazingly I am here and feel incredibly blessed that I am. For the first time, I'm beginning to understand the frightening (to me at least) idea of settling down and home. I wouldn't have expected to call Delft home after the last two years of globe trotting, my extreme dislike for grey skies and cold, and love of mountains. But surprisingly, I feel at home a midst the rain, bikes, canals and cheese. Who knows if I will ever settle down or more specifically settle here, but at the moment I'm learning to be content living somewhere I feel comfortable in, feeling part of a community, and knowing where I will be for approximately the next year and a half. 2013 already feels uncomfortably stable but I am sure it will bring its own share of adventures, surprises, and lessons.  

Procrastination

It's only fitting that I write a blog post while I'm the busiest I have been since arriving in the Netherlands. I will never learn. Procrastination (or as I prefer to call it: multitasking) has always been my style. What does a day in my life look like? Quite different than Uganda and Korea.

7 am-- Usually wake up. This wake up time is plus or minus an hour depending on: 1. the average time the sun gets up (which is sadly getting later and later) 2. How much work I have to do since I'm still incapable of working late at night and will always prefer waking up at the crack of dawn rather than staying up until the crack of dawn. What this tendency spells for my future wake up times I don't like to think about.

Depending on the day between 8:30-10:30 usually bike the 10 minute ride to campus in a variety of weather. Sometimes it's so windy that even when I'm peddling as hard as I can I am just at a standstill and usually when it's super windy it's also lashing rain (think rain pelting you in the face--delightful). Other days it's sunny and cool and I feel ridiculously happy and thankful for everything on my ride to campus. Mostly, it's just overcast and coolish. I'm slowly learning to appreciate and savor every minute of sunshine. Luckily, with my giant apartment windows I can detect the slightest hint of sunshine and usually drop all activity, throw on my running shoes and dash out the door to take advantage of the glimpse of the sun. I've even had a professor hint at skipping his lab because it was nice weather.

3:30-5:30 pm--either stay on campus and study or head home or head to frisbee or football (soccer for the Americans reading this) practice. This is the least productive time of day for me. If I don't have practice to attend I generally spend this time of day eating my pre dinner meal.

Fridays--for this quarter (which is about to end) I have no class on Fridays, therefore it's the best day of the week. I wake up early, go running, pick up my weekly bag of fresh organic fruits and veggies (a delightful surprise every week), run errands, and catch up on everything else I neglected during the week.

Evening--time to get creative in the kitchen (my only creative time), eat, then commence studying or social hours. The Dutch take their social time seriously, bordering on social time being more important than studying (probably why it takes them on average five years to complete a bachelor's degree that should be completed in three).

What's been an adjustment from undergrad is the absence of daily 8 am classes (my theory is that the nerdier your field of study the earlier the classes begin), the absence of homework assignments, and the borderline excessive amount of group work that my degree involves (note to future self: choose your groups wisely). What hasn't changed from undergrad: I still don't know how to say no. When I first arrived I told myself to chill out and not follow my instincts and sign up for everything. While, I think I've improved slightly from my Valpo days, I suddenly found myself in two sports, taking Dutch classes, leading a project in Cameroon, and currently contemplating training for a marathon in April; while still trying to take advantage of the many speakers, events, and social life that this university has to offer. Whoops! I still think I've improved dramatically but in spite of my seeming lack of involvement compared to Valpo I find myself wanting to get more involved.

Since I really do need to get back to work and this post is simply rambling on with no purpose I'll leave you with a photo to prove that I do in have friends here. Note: this was my first (and probably last) time playing paintball. My dislike for guns hasn't changed. Also, these are only a portion of my classmates and five nationalities are represented here (far less that than actual representation in my class).

Becoming Dutch

Subconsciously, people absorb the thoughts, attitudes, and rituals of the people around them. Of course there are deep rooted values that you learned as a child and are difficult to ever get rid of, but without realizing it you will subtly become a bit more like those you spend time with. When living outside your home country, this subconscious adaptation process is perhaps more altering. The few visits I've made to the US during the past two years of living abroad have shown me how I've changed and perhaps picked up some of the habits of the people I've spent time with in the places I've lived. However  there are certain things that haven't changed and probably never will. As I study cross cultural management I've become perhaps too aware of culture differences and how they affect interactions, and how one changes in a different cultural setting. Through this study I've discovered how "Dutch" I really am. One of the books we're studying for the class is written by Geert Hofstede, a researcher who created dimensions of culture through cross cultural surveys. He attempted to quantify culture, something I don't entirely agree with, but something that can make for some interesting discussions and comparisons when thinking about all the places I've lived over the past few years. Excuse the nerdiness of this post but below is a graph comparing the scores for the US cultural dimensions and the Dutch cultural dimensions
http://geert-hofstede.com/united-states.html

Enough nerdiness, you can read about the cultural dimensions and how surprisingly similar Dutch and American culture is (at least surprising to me since I thought the Dutch were more like Germans). Why am I Dutch?

-My (Greek) roommate and I consume an unbelievably amount of bread and cheese per week. All of the Dutch I know diligently bring their lunches to school with them. A Dutch lunch generally simply consists of bread and cheese and perhaps a bit of lunch meet. What's humorous to me is seeing my classmates bring almost a whole loaf of bread to class and happily munch on it. I also bring my own lunch to school and unlike the US where most of my friend simply ate in the cafeteria, I contentedly eat my homemade sandwich with my similar Dutch friends.

-Bringing my lunch to school brings me to point number two: my frugality. My "frugality" (there are less positive words for it) has been one constant in every place I've lived and at every stage in my life. I seem to have been born with some instinct and desire to save money at all times. I actually derive great pleasure from saving money and coming up with clever ways to cut costs. Riding around a rusty old bike that I got a good deal on (also practical since bike theft is a real problem here)? Of course! But what's lovely about this country is that all the Dutch do the same. There is no pretentiousness here. Everyone rides a bike (including the mail man--a fact that brightens my day every time I see the mail delivered) and most people have their old trusty bikes. Although, I still am probably still more frugal than the average Dutch, I don't have to explain myself to my Dutch friends when I'm trying to find the cheapest possible cell phone deal. And the expression "Dutch pay" was named Dutch for a reason. Personally, I appreciate the practicality and frugality of the Dutch. I will never understand the concept of credit and spending money you don't have.

-Sarcasm. Unlike your average German (sorry Germans), the Dutch sense of humour is actually quite sarcastic. I often find myself in situations similar to undergrad (all boys) where I am constantly being made fun of. My spelling skills are currently sub-par at best due to four years of engineering professors who were unable to spell and living in countries filled with non-native English speakers for two years. I have unfortunately made spelling errors in front of my whole class (not good when you're one of few native speakers in the class). My Dutch friends are quick to ask "which country are you from again?" and my spelling skills frequently are the topic of many jokes. It is quite pleasant to effortlessly be sarcastic without having to explain myself.

While my first month here was a bit of an adjustment coming from a country where time is meaningless, the sun shines constantly, everyone has a good sense of rhythm, and I constantly stood out, now I'm settling into the pleasantness of life in Holland. Even though the weather is predictably miserable and often causes me to nearly be blown off my bike, I am learning to deeply appreciate the orderliness of this country, the friendliness of people, the ability to find nearly anything I could possibly want in the store (and not just one store but many right next to each other! Who knew there were so many choices?), and the simply luxury of fitting in for once. Lastly, I have an unhealthy addiction to stroopwaffels. If I am obese in a few months stroopwaffels will be the cause.

Expectations

So a lot has happened since I last wrote on this blog. In case you missed it, I was in Uganda for five months, left end of July, spent a week in Turkey, two weeks in the US on both sides of the country, and am now settling into life in Delft, Netherlands for two years to study Engineering and Policy Analysis. It’s a bit much for me to wrap my mind around, let alone the few people who attempt to keep track of me.

I’ve been trying to come up with an adequate blog post that sums up my Uganda experience (read more about it here) and introduces my new life in the Netherlands. I always seem to find perfect words and ideas while running, but when I get back I either forget what I was going to write or lose interest. But I had the beginnings of an idea during my last run in the US almost two weeks ago.

Expectations. Even without trying, all human beings have expectations. Expectations of themselves, of others, of experiences, of food (at least I do!), of their countries. When I interviewed for Peace Corps and for my internship with Samaritan’s Purse I was told and told myself to eliminate any expectations I had for the experiences. Working in a developing country is never as “feel good” and romantic (or as “roughing it”) as the media presents. I knew I was not going to be anywhere close to “saving the world” by spending five months in Uganda. I wasn’t going to be close to even scratching the surface of the many overwhelming problems that face Uganda and its people (and what gives me the right or skills to “save” a place anyway?). I felt confident as I went through my SP orientation. I don’t care what strange foods I eat (how many people have eaten live octopus anyway?), where I lay my head, I’m not afraid of new languages, I’d been living away from my “country” since graduating anyway, and I can deal with sticking out like a sore thumb twenty-four seven after living in Korea for a year. Of course five months isn’t long enough to see real change and it’s also not long enough to create community and fully settle in. I was convinced that I had no expectations of my Uganda experience. I would not be disappointed. I was going to learn and grow and discover how better to use my passions and skills in the developing world, while living in a beautiful place.

But the truth is, I did have expectations even if they took a different shape than perhaps many people heading to the developing world. I did not want to be surrounded by foreigners (even if they were wonderful and inspiring), I did not want to be living somewhere with 24 hour power (even if I was lacking a lot of other amenities), I did not want to be given different treatment and benefits than the national staff that I was working with, I did not want to only speak English and feel like I could not easily attempt to learn the local language. My expectations of my Uganda were connecting with Ugandans, feeling like human beings with them, not feeling like I was living a completely different life. While I secretly knew it was unrealistic, I wanted to be staying with a host family, becoming Ugandan, getting compliments like I did in Korea saying that I was one of them. Even if I did not save starving children, I wanted to connect in Uganda.

When I came back to the US and the developed world, I felt ashamed about my experience in Uganda. I knew that five months was not long enough to see any impact in the work I was doing and I felt okay about that as frustrating as it still was. But I wanted to share real human interest stories, I wanted to show photos of me connecting with locals, doing things that would be strange for my culture. But when I look at my photos, I see myself with muzungus (white people), people who are amazing and inspiring and who I plan on being friends with for a long time, but people who are also culturally similar to me, who I can effortlessly communicate with, who I don’t have to explain myself to. I feel uncomfortable when I think about how well I was treated by Samaritan’s Purse compared to the national staff (a fact I can justify but still not shake the uncomfortable feeling). I can think of a million excuses why it was difficult to connect with the local staff—culture of Karamoja versus the rest of Uganda, different economic and educational levels. I can think of a things I could have done to connect better—regularly attending a local church, bringing cookies to the office more often, inviting my staff over for dinner (almost impossible since I didn’t have my own kitchen or place). I have analyzed how I didn’t feel like the real Rachel—the one who gets a thrill out of strange, awkward, and new situations and conversations,  enjoys trying new foods, puts herself in potentially dangerous situations, and enjoys being “the only foreigner around”.  In the end, the more I analyze and think about my experience I feel regret, too many “if onlys”. Of course I will return to Uganda and likely have a very different experience, but I think the only regret I can really indulge myself in is regret for having prior expectations.

It is impossible to know what each new place, job, trip will bring as much as we try to anticipate and prepare ourselves. As much as I thought I was prepared with no expectations, I had unknowingly high and nearly impossible expectations of living like a local and immersing myself in Ugandan culture. So instead of filling my thoughts with regrets, I can only take my Uganda experience for what it was and know that no matter how many expectations I had and the disappointment and regret that I feel, it was a place where I learned and grew, and a place that I was meant to be at this time in my life.  

I wonder if this Kenyan donkey has expectations?