Uganda, revisited

when I’m working, oftentimes it’s when I’m riding in the car with someone that I get the best interviews. there’s something about driving around a new place with someone I’ve just met that seems to allow for this free-flowing conversation. for whatever reason, we’re both at ease. there’s nothing else to do but talk and point things out, so we go with it. we talk. we point things out.

“over there is where I work. here’s the school where I read to kids once a week. there’s this. there’s that.”

mostly I just ask questions and nod. take a few notes. hope that my audio is working so I can refer to it later since my notes are so jiggly and scrawly.

and sometimes what I see outside the window tells a story of its own.

sometimes it’s a road in Uganda that seems to go nowhere, even though it’s dotted with numbers of people, all going somewhere.

and sometimes I kick myself because the photos are bad. photos taken during a bumpy car ride are most often blurry. but sometimes I don’t care so much, because it’s still a moment in time in a place I’ve never been and likely never will be again. it’s life. and it can be blurry.

in my world, everything seems to be a blur as of late. kids are here and there and everywhere in between, and there’s me, driving them to all of these places. life rolls by outside of my window. I drop kids. kiss them when they allow me. squeeze their knees if they’re brave enough to sit next to me in the front seat.


it’s life. take a look out the window and see it go by in all its colorful beauty.

and in case you’re wondering, here’s what rural Uganda looks like while bumping along inside a tourist van.




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