(munu = Acholi for muzungu = white man)
Traveling is all about shifting frames of reference, the things that you think, do, and feel in a foreign place that you wouldn't at home.
I'm taking my leave of Gulu today, taking the bus back to Kampala. My mission has always been about photos, although my dear readers wouldn't know from my recent blog posts, and there are no more new places that the girls are visiting for me to snap. (rest assured that I took LOTS of photos while in the camps and the bush and the posts I made will be updated with them as soon as I can upload them).
It's ironic how ones frame of reference can shift so quickly. When I got to Kampala it felt so foreign and I felt so far from Vancouver. Then I got to Gulu and I felt so far from Kampala. Then I got to a nearby refugee camp and I felt so far from Gulu. Then I got to an outlying camp and I felt so far from the nearby one. Finally I found myself in the deep bush and the shifting of frames of reference just stopped and I was just there..... far away from everything.
Going back to Kampala feels like exiting a deep rabbit hole that I've been tossing around in and returning to the regular world on the surface.
PS After riding a bus in Africa, I will never complain about a Greyhound again. I would be so happy to be boarding one now.