Should it really be simple?

Here are some of the awesome highlights of m life.

I have stood at the highest point next to Mont Blanc. I have taken a cable car through the alps from France to Italy.

I have stood on the pyramids, and walked through ancient Egyptian temples.

I have sat in the Haga Sophia (or Aya Sofya) and seen some of the oldest mosaics in Turkey.

I have climbed through tropical rainforests (alright fine, so I slid through them).

I have eaten a crepe in a medieval walled city in the French Alps.

I have eaten freshly made Bakhlava after dark in the middle of the Hippodrome of Istanbul on the first night or Rhamadan/Ramazan.

I have sipped my coffee while watching the sunrise over the plains of Karamoja (for you none Ugandans let’s say the planes of Africa J )

Here are some of the realities I’ve dealt with on an every day basis:

I drive past starving children every day.

I can see a slum from my school.

Children who I care about were orphaned by war. They have experienced horrific things. And there’s not much I can do to help.

My friends are all different races. And I never notice it.

My parents just bought my one way ticket back to the US for college. I leave on June 30^th. Here are some overwhelming thoughts about the US:

In the last 8 years (as of April 8^th) I have spent less than 28 weeks in the US.

I do not know what a checkbook is, or if people even still use them.

I have no idea how you use a credit card.

Malls? Are you kidding me? Those are just big overwhelming traps. As far as I can tell. In other words, they scare me half to death.

Why are there so many white people??????

Walmart. Way too many choices. How can you have so many types of jeans?

No, I do not get in state tuition. Anywhere. But yes I do qualify for federal financial aid. Want to try making sense out of that?

Changing rooms. They’re a nice alternative to trying on jeans practically in the street in the middle of Old Kampala. But I’m still not quite sure how they work. And people who help you find your size in a store? What the what?! There are multiple sizes! And colors! And did I mention the people to help you find them?

So I wanted to write this, because a lot of people who knew me before we moved view me as an American, and think that I should have no problem sliding back into American culture. Guess what? It isn’t going to work that way. I’m going through some missionary kid re-entry programs. I was talking to a girl who is visiting as an exchange student at the university the other day who grew up as an MK. It’s true: MK’s speak another language. We deal with things differently… It’s going to take me a while to settle back in. It’s a big, overwhelming change coming up.