Something that I struggled with during camp and that I foresee only intensifying as I move to Uganda is the fact that I have friends elsewhere that I want to keep. Where is the balance between investing fully where I am and investing into folks back home? And it's not even folks 'back home,' because my people live in Alabama, Virginia, Washington DC, Canada, and more!
Blogging is a nice general way to let people know what's happening with me, but it's not very personal. Sending emails takes a little more time and adds a layer of personalization, but it's still just words on a screen. Hearing someone's voice over the phone is amazing in its ability to rekindle friendships; seeing someone chat with you through a webcam is even better. A personal visit once a year would be nice, but I'm pretty sure I would spend all my time traveling and none of my time working if that were the case.
It's the Girl Scout dilemma: how does one 'make new friends but keep the old'?
Being a military brat, you'd think I'd be a pro at long-distance friendships. Ironically, I've found that some folks who spent their whole lives in one area are better at staying in touch with their far-flung friends than those of us who moved every few years. Perhaps they were never forced to learn the lesson of 'too many people, too little time.' Or perhaps they simply never faced the heart-breaking reality of an empty mailbox week after week, despite friends' promises to write.
So as I'm landing in Uganda, eager for this new adventure, a message to all my friends "elsewhere": I miss you (especially now, as I'm tired and lonely after 30+ hours of solo travel!). But sometimes it will hurt so badly to miss you that even writing you an email will make me burst into tears. Sometimes in this new life of mine, I'll feel like there aren't words or pictures to express what I'm experiencing. Sometimes, the time difference will discourage me from talking to you; sometimes, I'll simply be too busy with new and exciting events to communicate.
But please don't think that I'm ignoring you or worse yet, forsaking you! Even if you don't hear personally from me for months, don't think I'm letting the friendship die. Just think of me as collecting experiences to share next time we see each other.
Because we will see each other again. A year from now, when I return to the States homeless and jobless, I might just end up at your door, offering African stories, pictures, cooking, and culture in exchange for a sofa.
And because we're friends, I'm pretty sure you'll accept that offer.