There is never a dull moment here. Everything is a bit slower, whether it is from transportation or the healing of a small, infected cut on my foot. Yesterday was pouring down rain and life was on hold here; the roads become muddy and unbearable, bodas are dangerous and impossible to drive, the markets are dead silent as everyone huddles under the trees and just waits until the sun comes out and shines again. I believe laughter has brought me a long way in life; I have learned to enjoy the most of it and a good sense of humor has saved me countless times. 
I peak through the tiny crack in the window as I try to gasp every bit of fresh air to cool off. I look off into the mountains of green, lush jungles; it almost looks like the Grand Canyon except covered in rain forests instead of the dry deserts of Arizona. It is a beautiful countryside filled with mountains, rivers, farms, and Ugandans who have lived a much harder life than I have. 
I still have a hard time believing I have been here nearly 6 months; it was not until the other day that I felt ready to leave. The transition phase is a tricky place to be: I had more or less stopped working with Soft Power Health, returned from traveling to Rwanda, and became sick and unproductive for a few days that I finally felt ready to move on (maybe another round of bilharzia for all I know). Maybe it is good that I will be leaving relatively soon; it might be my time to go and find a change of pace and change of scenery. After living here, I will never forget to just sit back and relax; I have spent too much of my life in a hurry, running from one thing to the next. However, here I am now, sitting in a matatu that stops every 100 meters to add more passengers when I never thought it would be possible to fit anyone else. I laugh at the situation; sometimes the Ugandan logic makes no sense at all, but instead of going mad with frustration I am enjoying every moment while I can.
