Hesitancy

I have frequently considered the mysterious disappearance of my blog muse since my arrival in Uganda nearly six months ago. I transitioned from chronic blogging in Korea to sporadic forced posts. Life in Kampala is far from mundane and I have long since passed the “I have no power for my computer” excuse. Though, ironically, the power is really out yet again as I write this. Luckily, an inverter purrs contentedly in my kitchen and inside my closet rests the extra insurance of a spare battery pack (that miraculously made it un-stolen in a labeled box from the States).

This week I joined the first writing group I have been in since my time in university classes. As I shared a work-in-progress, the inevitable questions of audience and purpose were asked. And that is when it hit me--- I have been carefully editing my blog for the sake of my audience. My muse has been paralyzed by a fear that there are many things in my new life that might rattle people I love: the baby snake I helped my friend carry out of her compound, the class five rapids that chucked me into the Nile, the financial canyon my school is trying to scale out of, the puppy castration that took place on my front porch. I have been so scared to taint the already tedious perception many of my loved ones have about my chosen home that I have been hesitant to share life. The good and the bad.

I am coming to the realization that the vast majority of the people who read this blog are about as likely to visit me in Uganda, as I am to sit still for a week straight. This might be the only account they ever get of my daily triumphs, observations, and surprises. I think it’s time to let my reluctance go a bit and release my stories from hibernation.