Thanksgiving

It was my third consecutive Thanksgiving away from home. My last two in Ktown were unconventional. A normal workday and all that, but in the evening a big potluck feast with other Americans and games. They were great. Here my community is much smaller, and much less American. I do know some Americans, though. They live on a lovely compound just outside of Juba. Weeks ago I asked if I could come for Thanksgiving. And decided to take a long weekend out at their compound. In need of a little break from the girls, but, mostly, some quiet and serenity.

Thursday/Thanksgiving morning I had to do some things with the girls, but at 9:30 I hopped on a boda (motorcycle) and rode the 40 minutes just outside of town. I was very happy to be getting a break. But I was a little sad. Another holiday away from home.

I got to thinking about homesickness. I would say that I don't get homesick very often. Yet, there are things I miss from home everyday. From the big: family, friends, autonomy. To the small: ice cream, new books, thrift stores. I don't classify that as homesickness, though. Homesickness is when I wish I wasn't here but wish I was there instead. So I was bopping along and thinking about this and my family and holiday things. And I had a moment.

Whatever circumstances or places you find yourself in, no matter how wacky, your mind has a way of redefining normal. My "normal" life here is much different than whatever my normal life was back in the US, and even much different than my normal life in Ktown. So even though my life has found some sort of normal here--even though life in Africa has become normal in some sense, I still have moments. Moments where it hits me all anew that I live in Africa. That I'm living the dream. I was riding on the boda on Thursday, bopping about on the uneven roads, and I looked to my side and saw various neatly stacked piles of things being sold along the road. People with dark skin in bright colors speaking a language that I actually understand, and tall sturdy mango trees behind. A blue sky with a sun that beats down hard and a mountain in the distance. And I smiled, and sighed. A contented sigh. Holy moly. I live in South Sudan. Life, man. It's crazy, but it's good.

On Saturday night we had a big Thanksgiving spread with friends. When you can't be with family, food helps it feel like the holidays.  It was wonderful. I am thankful.