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Back from Africa.
Yes, I fought the temptation to "miss" my flight out of Uganda, or to jump off when we touched down in Ethiopia - though both thoughts did cross my mind - and I came home.
The last couple of days in Uganda were good for winding down, and transitioning back into the so-called Western world. I spent a night in the sprawling and hectic Kampala, met up with Saskia, a Dutch girl I studied with in the States, and spent my final night in Entebbe, near the airport, in one of the few hostels geared towards backpackers I encountered in East Africa.
But it still didn't fully prepare me for returning to the "rich world," or leaving their rugged yet joy-filled one. I thought about little Paskazia when I got put up in a super fancy Dubai hotel, complete with buffet breakfast, and it just didn't feel right. Then, back in NZ, walking down Queen St with no one calling out at me - "hey mzungu!" or "hello, taxi?" - was at once refreshing, but at the same time a little strange; even though I had my big pack with me, no one asked where I was from, or offered to help carry my bags, or to walk me in the direction I was going. And then there was the supermarket. I hadn't seen that much food in one place in three weeks, and it was a little overwhelming, wondering if all that choice - and all those items - was really necessary.
My visit to Africa - and especially my visit Paskazia - have left a big impression on me, and I hope to elaborate on it in one final entry. Watch this space.
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