"I miss the red dirt roads in Uganda"

This was a recent status I posted on Facebook. When I said it, I knew that it didn't fully encompass my feelings, but it was all I could muster to say.

While the dirt roads were beautiful to me, it's not them physically that I miss. I miss what they represent to me. I miss the feelings I experienced on those dirt roads.



Every day I would walk to and from school. I would greet Flo, the neighbor girl, on my way to school as she was working in the field. I would often greet a shop owner along the way that I once stopped at to look at something.

I miss the curious looks. I miss the friendly smiles. I miss the one copy center I would pass that would always be playing music (most often it was Celine Dion's "My Heart will go On."-- I mean nearly 24/7, you could hear it on campus even.) I miss they day it was playing Black Eyed Peas, "Where is the Love."

I miss the kids on the corner that I would always say hi to on my way home, the neighbor boys who, when they saw me coming, would run to me and hold my hand or help carry things back home. We couldn't communicate beyond smiles, but I miss them. I miss finding Flo cooking dinner, and whisper-shouting her name to say hi. I miss her coming running to give me a hug, and exchanging a few short words before I continued home.

I miss going on walks with my sister Lillian. I love the adventures we had and the laughs that we shared.

I miss my brothers coming to walk me home from dance practice at night. Those were some of my favorite times with them, just chilling and talking.

I miss walking places (preferrably in the evening... much cooler!).

So while I say that I simply miss the dirt roads of Uganda, I truly miss something much more. I miss the love I found on those dirt roads.

Near my house and university; the water in the top left side of the picture is Lake Victoria!

                                         

The dirt road I lived on