Have you ever looked up at the twilight sky and seen the alignment of a planet or the moon, maybe a familiar constellation, and remembered seeing the same orientation somewhere else under vastly differently circumstances? 
I experienced that feeling a week later back in Kampala, my home away from home. Venus aligned with the crescent moon shone brightly at twilight, and I was brought back to Essakane immediately. I had a bright smile as I climbed my hill of a driveway still missing Mali.
A few memories came back. The peace of the desert… 
The friendship facilitated by a cup of tea… 
The stories that stoic yet friendly eyes tell in the desert… 
An ancient rite only salt can tell…
Salt: up close and personal. By Jenn Hallock
Friendship in the big city… 
The solitary footsteps of a scarab beetle soon to disappear in the desert wind… 
And so have my footsteps come and gone in the amazing desert, a desert scarcely aware that I came. Nonetheless, my memories and dreams will often linger there for all my days to come.
I’ve always been fascinated by those who feel rooted to a place, for whom wanderlust is a pathology of the soul. All I know is that my trips allow me to unearth parts of myself that I’ve long since buried as dead, showing me who I can be. They are, in many respects, processes of rebirth. – Kira Salak in The Cruelest Journey: Six hundred miles to Timbuktu
April 20, 2009 at 3:35 am |
Amazing, Justin. I love reading about your incredible journey. And I just realized that the date for your latest post is April 20th, which is still 4.5 hours away in Chicago.
I think the favorite thing I read was about how Mohammad called you his brother. I imagine they are very wary of tourists in general, and, specifically, Americans, who can certainly be ugly tourists. But you obviously made a wonderful impression on him.
Enjoy the rest of your time in Uganda!