365 days ago, today.

So one year ago today I was in the airport, with nearly 40 strangers, heading to Uganda. I was full of nerves and anticipation. I remember saying goodbye to my parents in Kentucky at like five in the morning, walking away from them and through security, and then sitting at the gate thinking, "I'm not going to see them again for over four months." My decision to go to Uganda was cemented, sealed. I was doing the craziest and bravest thing I had ever done up to that point, jumping way beyond my comfort zone, just hoping to make a decent landing.

I flew from Kentucky to Chicago and watched the sun rise over Chicago from my gate, waiting for my flight to D.C. There were two other girls at the gate with me, conspiculously reading The Poisonwood Bible (which we all had to read before going) and their bags were marked with the blue USP ribbons. I chose not to say hello. They seemed to know each other already, and I didn't want to lose my last couple of hours of solitude. I would have four months to get to know them.

I landed in D.C. and headed towards the ticketing counters with all of my baggage. I would have to recheck it after going through customs. I was still nervous, and there were butterflies in my stomache. It was time to meet the group. How many would already be there when I arrived? What would they be like? How would they be dressed? I had chosen to wear jeans, a cute top, and tennis shoes...not exactly the dress code we had been given for Uganda, but I figured the airport didn't count. I wanted to be comfortable and this was possibly the last day in four months I would get to wear my beloved jeans and tennis shoes. We were heading to a land of skirts, blouses, and sandals, where we were expected to look "smart" for most occassions, and to dress modest but feminine.

I greeted the group with an embarrassing bang. Just as I pulled my rolling suitecase to a halt, the pull out handle caught the beaded watch on my wrist, a gift from a friend from home, and tore it to pieces. Beads fell everywhere, radiating out on the tile floor from where I stood. I blushed and stooped to pick them up, and then realized twenty hands were helping. Soon the USP strangers placed most of the beads back into my trembling hands, looks of concern on their faces. Not exactly the entrance I envisioned, but it could have been worse. "Thanks, I mumbled. It's no big deal. I'll put it back together somehow." And then it was time. I looked at the lady with the clipboard, must be Sarah, who had been in touch with all of us for several months prior to our departure. "I'm Danielle." She checked me off on the list. We were only waiting for a few more people.

Over the next hour or so we waited for the remaining students to come. The girls who I had seen in Chicago arrived a few minutes after me. Others came. Some came with their parents, and I wasa tad jealous that mine hadn't offered to drive me to D.C. But it only would have postponed the goodbye. Maybe it was better to have gotten over with it early rather than do it in front of an audience. Soon most of us were present, and we were hungry. "There's no reason you can't get your tickets and check in," Sarah told us. "I'll send the last few people through when they come." Oh, she wasn't coming with us. From this point on, we were traveling together, just the students. Hunger won out over nerves. The sooner we went through ticketing, security, and customs, the sooner we could find something to eat. Our flight was leaving at dinner time, and there would probably be food, but this was our last chance for American food.

I was one of the first few through security and customs. It took nearly an hour for us all to get through. But we still had a lot of time before our flight would take off. We found the gate and set our stuff down. There was some conversation beginning. Some of the students obviously knew each other already. Others of us were on the perimeters, quieter, because we didn't know anyone at all. I introduced myself over and over again, and the first question I usually asked was "USE or IMME?" I was trying to get a feel for the other students who would be doing semester long homestays like I was going to. There were fewer of us. Some others would be meeting us at the airport in Uganda. They were flying separately. I was thankful to be in the group and have some time to get to know these people before we got to Uganda.

A group of fifteen or so of us ambled down the terminal to find food. There were several choices, but for some reason, I settled on a salad shop. I couldn't believe I was going to make my last meal a salad, but my stomache didn't seem to want anything else. So I ordered a big salad with raspberry vinagretter dressing, my favorite, and then found a table. A few other students sat around me, and I met Lizz, Naomi, Dave, Charles, Ashley...I tried to keep the names straight. Lizz and Charles were IMME students. Naomi was really sweet. Ashley and Charles already knew each other because they came from the same college. Oh, that must be how some people knew each other. I felt like an outsider because a mjority of the students came from schools who were sending more than one student. Milligan never sent two students to the same program in one semester.

I finished half of my salad, and then couldn't eat any more. I didn't want to throw it away, but I wasn't sure I knew these people well enough to offer them my half eaten salad. They would probably think I was crazy. But it was better then wasting it, I supposed. "Anyone want to finish this?" I asked. "I'm stuffed, and I hate to throw it out..." "I got it," Dave said. "I'll eat it, if you're sure you're done," he added. I was relieved. For some reason being able to share leftovers with these people made me feel more comfortable with the idea that they would be my closest friends over the next four months, my only white and American friends in the big unfamiliar place I was heading. Sharing food felt like some rite of passage in my head for friendship and community.

A few hours later we boarded the plane, and I was pleased to be next to Naomi. We all looked around the seating arrangements and figured we were seated alphabetically. Toenies (Naomi), Thomas (Danielle). We talked and slept and watched movies over the eight hour flight that carried us from D.C. to Amsterdam. In Amsterdam we had a 5-6 hour layover. When we deboarded the plane, leaders began to emerge, I noticed. A few strong-personality people stepped forward to read the moniters in the terminal and led the way to our gate. The Amsterdam gate was tiny compared to the one in D.C. There wasn't nearly enough seating for all of the passengers waiting for the flight. We found a corner and settled in one huge mass on the floor. Some people dumped their luggage and headed out to explore. Others went to find bathrooms to freshen up in. It was Friday morning. "Weird, I thought. It's already been a day since I left Kentucky." I made a quick trip to brush my teeth and run my fingers through my greasy hair. I braided it to the side since I can't French braid.

I made my way back to the group. This was a time to be social, but I was fighting it. Large groups make me uncomfortable and it takes a lot of energy for me to put myself out there and start conversations with strangers. I sat at a kiddie table with Charles and Ashley and a few others. Charles was IMME, and he was a soccer player, so there were a couple of things we had in common. We all chatted and got to know each other a bit better while we waited. It seemed like forever, but at last it was time for our next flight. Not surprisingly, Naomi and I were next to each other again. It made it easy, though, because I didn't need to get to know another seatmate since we had already talked on the first flight quite a bit.

I slept very little. Mostly I just changed my little tv (which was mounted on the seat in front of me) from movie to movie and tv show to tv show until I was bored with it. Then I listened to some music. The I tried to sleep. We landed sometime between 8-9pm Uganda time on Friday night. That made it like 1pm on Friday in Kentucky because Uganda was 8 hours later. We headed toward customs with our passeportes and visa money. Each of us had 50 dollars to buy a visa with. We huddled scared in the large customs room debating what we should do. The visa line was long. Should we all wait in it or send someone up as a representative or something? A Ugandan woman in a uniform approached us. "You give me the money and the passports, and I will get you the visas," she said with a thick accent. We looked at each other suspiciously. Was this a scam to run off with our money? Could we trust this woman. "She has on a uniform," someone whispered. "How can we know for sure?" others asked. Finally, we decided to trust the woman, but we sent two students with her as witnesses just to be sure. They followed her to the front of the room and we went into an adjoined room to look for our luggage.

Nearly all of the luggage arrived. Two or three students were missing a piece, but we were reassured that the Ugandan airport would get it to us. All of our passports made it back to us with visas inside, and a very chipper and tiny woman in her early twenties, barely older than us, came to the baggage claim area to great us. "I'm Annie!" she was nearly squealing with excited. I liked her immediately. "And I'm a USP intern!! Follow me to the busses!" We followed her out of the airport in a long line. Walking outside was shocking because of the heat. It was January, and I had worn a winter coat to the airport in Kentucky. In Uganda, January felt like July. It was hot and humid. I sighed. This is how weather should always be. I love summer time.

We got onto the bus and I went to the middle and sat down. I assumed someone would sit next to me, but no one did. There were already a few people on the bus before us, students who had travled separately and arrived earlier. When the bus began to move and I was still seated by myself, I wished I had been braver and made a point to sit with someone. I looked outside, but it was pitch black and impossible to see much beyond shadows and big black shapes. It was a couple of hours to get to the campus, which is where we were headed. I was battling exhaustion from the trip and the time change and all of the emotions I was feeling. I fell asleep and didn't wake up for over an hour. When I woke up, Annie brought me a banana and a chipoti, a bread tortilla thing that Uganda is known for, even though I had never heard of it. They were both good, and I stayed up for the rest of the trip. We paused at the front gate of Uganda Christian University so the drivers could talk to the secuirty posted there. They let us through quickly.

We drove up a hill and then stopped, and Annie got off of the bus and other people got on. Some of the USP staff was there to greet us, and Phil, the other intern. USE students were hussled off the bus, told who their roommate was to be, and handed keys. We were apparently parked near where they would be living on campus. IMME students were all put onto my bus, and then we met Brooke, who was the IMME director. She climbed on the bus and told the driver to take us to the guesthouse. We soon stopped in front of another building on campus. "This is it. Get off, get your stuff, get in groups of 2 and 3, and get a key from me." Brooke was obviously a very direct person, and several months pregnant also. We did as she commanded. Sarah, another girl who seemed on the fringes, paired up with me, and we made our way into the guesthouse and found our room. I used the toilet quickly, but couldn't get it to flush (but at least it was a toilet), took a picture of my first bed in Uganda (mosquito net and all), put on my nightgown (eww, I was not going to like wearing this for four months), and fell asleep. It was after 1AM Ugandan time, Saturday morning. Day one in Uganda.