March 10, 2014
Again, it has been a long time since I’ve shared a
reflection. Mostly, I’ve been feeling that it made sense to wait until our
transition back to life in the US was more complete before I could reflect
about it. I’ve realized recently that if I wait for the feeling of being
settled, there might not be an update, so instead here is a reflection about
our many recent transitions.
In June last summer, we moved from Kampala, Uganda, to
Cambridge, Massachusetts. Leaving Uganda was hard for us. For many reasons it
was time to come back, but we had really loved our time in Uganda and our life
there. Leaving is never easy. Later on, upon arrival at a new place, there is
the excitement, the endless errands of setting up, the reunions, and the
discovery that balance out the sadness, but the actual act of leaving, of
packing up, saying good bye, walking down familiar paths for the last time, was
painful. As we packed up our treasures in Uganda, a few materials things that
went into boxes to decorate our new home and remind us of Uganda, but mostly
the friendships, memories, lessons that we packed in boxes in our hearts, I
wondered how much of this beautiful and fascinating country can we really take
with us? We really do pack those experiences into boxes in our hearts. We have
to, otherwise, it would be impossible to adapt. It is impossible to walk
through life in Cambridge with the same set of eyes, thoughts, sensations, and
experiences that seemed completely normal in Uganda. The ongoing comparison
would reduce experiences and feelings to a list of pros and cons, a connection
to a place to an assessment, and so instead we put those treasures in boxes in
our hearts for when it is safe for them to come out. We packed, and we hoped
that as we unpacked for our new life some of the treasures will re-surface,
find a suitable place in our life, friendships, and interactions, and in doing
so, honor our Ugandan hosts with a new version of ourselves that carries them
along. Keeping in touch with friends, and especially with people we shared our
daily life with, such as Pia and Rowena, has helped to keep Uganda close in our
hearts. Pierre’s focus on Uganda in his studies has kept it close in our mind.
Some of the recent challenges in the news about Uganda’s new laws against homosexuality
have made me feel far away. The three girls we support who are in school have
passed their exams and are in the final two years of their secondary education,
for which we feel incredibly thankful and proud of their efforts. Our cat,
Chpatti, might have gotten the short stick in this transition. She’s adjusted
well, but certainly being an apartment cat does not compare to her Kampala
adventures and weather.
In Cambridge, after a nice summer, we slowly settled into
new routines. Pierre dove right into the Ed.D program at Harvard. It has been
exciting to see him engage with classmates, professors, and colleagues and to
be in an environment of learning and reflection. The Education School already
provided Pierre and I with that wonderful environment back when we were doing
our masters, and it has been nice to be back in it, even on its periphery for
me. Daniela started daycare, which she calls school, and she adjusted very
quickly. She loves other children and her teachers, and it has been really fun
seeing her making friends, learning new activities, and just enjoying the
extension of her world beyond our family and friends. She has grown so much in
the past 6 months. She is a real talker, and often tells us things like
“actually that is a good idea” or “I play for two more minutes, then I do a
diaper check (for her dolls), and then I come.” She loves to sing and dance,
take care of her dolls and babies, draw and paint, play with friends, and give
hugs and kisses. She is so loving and able to express her emotions in the
sincere way only children can. Sometimes, she just exclaims, “I’m happy” or “I
like you” to someone who has played with her.
For me, moving back, involved many simultaneous transitions.
I went from working part time to working a few days a month, from being one of
Daniela’s multiple caregivers to taking care of her most of the time, and to having a
lot more “free” time or time that I needed to figure out what I wanted to do
with. One of the things that was important for me in the transition was having the
time to be the kind of mother, partner, friend, neighbor, and global citizen
that I want to be. I’d reflected a lot over the past two years since my father
died that we’re here to love, but this transition gave me the first opportunity
to actually make a time commitment to the idea. I wanted to leave empty spaces
in my agenda symbolically, but mostly in my outlook on life, that I could fill
with doing things with and for the people I love and doing things that I love.
It all made sense in theory, but to be honest, I learned about myself that I
had a hard time with spaces and free time. It took a long time to learn how to
structure my days so that I was really using the time to do things that are
important to me and that felt rewarding. I’ve spent a lot of time with Daniela,
which has been lovely, even when tiring. I have been able to spend a lot of
time with family and friends, here in the area, and to keep better touch with
those who are far. One of the greatest joys has been being here for the
arrival of Baby Dario, one of my best friend’s, Sheede, baby and my Godchild, and being
able to see him regularly and make him laugh and to share the first few months
of his life so closely. I’ve worked on my writing. It is a slow process, but I
feel like it is moving. The young adult novel I worked on in Uganda is now
finished, and I am excited to see if it can be published. I’ve started work on
another young adult novel, also set in Uganda, and there is a series of
children’s stories in progress. I’ve also started working on my teacher
certification to explore if spending some time in the classroom is something I
can incorporate into my life. I’ve made new friends with other mothers who live
near us. I must admit that I used to think that these “mommy friends” somehow
limited friendships to commiserating about sleep woes and toddler-friendly
recipes, but there is so much more to these friendships, and I am so thankful
for the incredible women and their beautiful children I have met this year. These
are the friends that sometimes see me at my most vulnerable. When I am tired
and my patience is low, and I share with those around me and Daniela, whom I
care about most in the world, a version of myself that is not my best, and
I’m overcome by regret and guilt, which I can’t sulk in for long because
toddlers move on quickly and need you again two minutes later. These are the
friends that don’t judge and offer support and make me laugh about it, and
somehow through the baby talk, there is room for real kindness, and getting to
know each other, one broken up sentence at a time, and for genuine friendships
to emerge.
Mostly, I’ve realized that being happy with these
transitions had to do with letting go of my ego, of the voice in my head that
questions if I am doing enough or how other people see what I am doing. When I
can turn that voice off, which has gotten easier and easier, I feel happy with
most of my days. I’ve often heard people share the sentiment that God, or
whatever power one might believe in, gives you what you can handle or bear.
Others have shared that the universe doesn’t gives us what we ask for, but what
we need to learn and grow. Sometimes, I think, we have everything within us
already. We all have everything inside, the strength, weakness, love, hate,
courage, fear, ego, humility, pride, patience, anger, empathy, jealousy,
selfishness, and kindness. It is all there, in all of us, and it is up to us to
choose to find the parts that we want to put forward, that make us happy, and
enable us to contribute to the life of others. I think of my father, the
eternal optimist, and yet he was not naïve. He knew the world was a tough
place, but he chose to focus on the good. He is still with me so much in all my
days. Sometimes I will think of a funny memory, like watching the super bowl in
the hospital or how he used to make Meshi run in circles, and it really feels
like he is making me laugh. Mostly, I think of all he did for our family, and I
feel content to have created some space in my life to try and do the same for mine.
Finally, just as transitions were starting to feel settled
enough to reflect, our family is in for another big one. Any day now, we’ll be
meeting the newest member of the Alon de Galbert family and Daniela will be a
big sister. We’re excited and nervous and a million more feelings, but mostly
just looking forward to meeting this new little baby.
Until next time, thank you for being in my life.
Inbal
