Home away from home.
For most people in the settlement, this is what they call home.
When before they live freely, roaming the streets without fear.
Finding everything they need.
Where children can play. You hear laughter like no cares in the world.
Now, they live under protection.
Because some people decided a life for them.
Where fighting becomes normal everyday life.
Men become greedy with power.
That they forget that the world is not only for them but for all.
Out of fear.
They run.They fled. They cry.
That one day, their life will be back to the way it was.
In their own home.
In their own land.
I like to take the car when I travel to and from Kampala from my home in Arua, almost 500 kilometers away. When alone in the car with the driver I get to see everything and take photos all I want, like this highway in front of me.
The bridge in front of me is the sign I am almost home after a little over six hours in the road. Two more and I will finally be at the comfort of it.
Meantime, I enjoyed watching the clouds in front of me and marvel at the blue skies that welcome me back in the north of Uganda.
Seriously, how can you not love doing development work when you see your team braving the midday sun to reach people in their homes. Not going for lunch until all are seen and given the time to share their stories.
It has been cold in Arua in the past couple of weeks, well okay for over a month now and for someone coming from the tropics its welcome season. I had enough of the hot weather that a little bed weather is all I need to enjoy my weekends in my house.
With the heavy downpour looming I am anticipating a nice soup for dinner or a chilly night covered with a blanket and a nice grilled sandwich while watching marathon movie of John Wick.
What’s with the photo?
One morning we went out to have brunch in one of the restaurants by the pier in Beşiktas. Actually, it was more lunch than breakfast because it was nearing noon when we arrived. But since we’re in Istanbul and a weekend life doesn’t start until midday.
That morning was the day after one friend returned to Turkey after a grueling short mission in Bangladesh. She passed by to unwind and forget the horrors of the Rohingya exodus from Myanmar… she’s a psychologist just so you know.
Being a good friend and an enabler when she said “I like to smoke shisha” I immediately said yes, and we capped our brekky with fruity smoke – apple and blueberry an alternate to real Apple since I don’t usually eat them fresh.😄
The coughing was normal for me since I am not a smoker and when I am attempting to get the thick smokes out, I have to inhale deep and blow slowly. I didn’t manage to look like I knew what I was doing.
Shisha or hooka is a social activity in the Middle East. I only do it with people I know and like to hang out with and it’s not all the time – maybe I do it once or twice a month when I was still living in Turkey. Smoking it is an acquired taste and if you don’t usually smoke you might want to keep it to a minimum and choose the flavor that doesn’t give you headaches like apple, watermelon, and the popular blueberry. or best to not do it at all!
Have a nice day!