Dear Pam,

*Letter from my Dad to my Mom*


Good morning it is 6:30 AM Friday Saturday. Well, we made it to Jennifer house about 12 hours ago ate and went to bed. Sitting here the sun is coming up you can hear all manner of birds and chickens, else it is so quite (Jennifer's two cats are playing tag in the house). Jennifer is off running, Benjamin just got up, I have not seen Nick yet. Pam, I wish you were here. I feel so alive, it is new yet old, so different yet the same. I could close my eyes and be back in our home in Alale, it sounds the same. For the trip in GOD took such good care of us. Going through our security check, Nick droped his boarding pass and I left Jennifer's computer but we got them both back with no problems (Thank you GOD) It was so GOOD to see Jennifer at the airport, we got all our bags and NO customs, we were some of the first ones outside. Loaded into Tim's 7 passenger mini van all of our stuff on top of Jennifer's and Tim's stuff and two chickens in (felt like Africa). Headed off to our guest house for the night- very nice and clean. The van ride into Soroti, we left at 9:00 and then all the stops to get supplies on the way out of town, last stop pizza and flowers (for Tim's wife). On the road for real by 11:30, we had our dinner about 2:00 in a truck stop. Somosas, french fries, (in real animal fat) and TWO Bitter Lemons to drink, so close to heaven. The back ground sounds of big trucks pulling in and out, overloaded buses (rated for 67 and caring up words of 100 people, chickens not counted, I saw no goats on the buses) people hanging out the windows, talking to people on the road or other buses. Just like I remember. The ride after dinner I had a hard time staying awake and in that state of eyes shut and not fully asleep or awake (even I can not sleep fully in a van on African roads) I hear children's voice at play or herding goats by the road (the latter most likely) I hear voices of adults at the open air “strip malls” 15 feet off and parallel to the road, and every time the van slows or stops every open window is set upon by sellers selling every thing from single cigerates to phone minutes. I smell the burning trash (smoldering more like) then I smell cooking fires for roasting corn. This is all a mix of what I remember and what is really happening. I feel the pot holes and speed bumps as my head and shoulders bounce off the window and roof. As I come fully awake again I realize that I've been dreaming, picturing the way it was and the way it still is. So little change from 17 years ago.... I find that all four wheels of the van are in a pot hole, it is that big.
And my heart hurts to be back here.....