Officially a muzungu.

The "distance to destination" dropped to 0 kilometers on the plane screen, and suddenly the emotions that have been lurking quietly about in my stomach rushed out. A smile crept over my face and has not said so-long since. Walking in Kampala today I repeatedly shook my arms, wondering if it would feel less unreal. It remains incredibly surreal.

The flights were long and tiring. Oh, so long. There was a casino in the Amsterdam airport, and trash cans with "Dank U" on the lids. The Entebbe airport was tiny. We walked off the plane, down dramatic stairways, and onto the landing strip under a big African sky. Orange suitcase and mini-guitar case came off the last truck load of luggage (relief!). Last night and tonight we are staying in guest houses in Kampala. I'm in Uganda. I'm sleeping under a mosquito net. I walked on busy, red dirt, city streets today, past the Ugandan National Theatre.

[fervent shake of the arms]

The group consists of 30 students staying in dorms at UCU, and 9 living in home stays for the entirety of the semester. Already we are disappointed that there will be some separation within the group, because we are enjoying each other so much. Matt, the tall, nice boy Mom asked to protect me at the airport, already articulated to the group how exciting it has been to be surrounded with passionate people attempting the live purposefully. Even when some are honest that they do not know why they came here, it seems everyone is asking for a difficult semester- yearnings for growth and change. It is unmistakable that this place will change us.

Today we, pre-Kampala, went to the tombs of Buganda, where the kings of the Bugandan tribe are buried. Here's the DL: Buganda is a tribe (The unified republic of Uganda is made up of tribes). Then within the tribes there are clans, such as "Grasshopper." They are called mugandas. The Bugandan tribe speaks Lugandan. So, our tour guide was a Bugandan Ugandan, from the "Grasshopper" muganda, who speaks Lugandan. Yep.

Leaving the tombs we stood across the street from a cluster of precious Ugandan kids. One boy was wearing a bow tie. A littler one of the bunch shouted "muzungu!" to get our attention. I waved. He yelled "muzungu! You come. You come here!" And "here" sounded like 'he-ah.' I apologetically shook my head no and boarded the bus. I guess I am officially a muzungu though. A muzungu in Uganda who speaks English. I'll work on getting that to rhyme a bit better.

I have a mere few minutes left, so picture time:

^The view from the guest house I'm at. That's Lake Victoria back there!!^On the bus ride to the Bugandan tombs. (Danny from Olivet to my right)

Out of time- more to come in later days. I lovelovelove you.