Just trying to keep (a) my silverware in my hands and (b) my fingers out of my nose
So that's that. I'm back in the US, sleeping on a couch in Cambridge and trying to figure out my life. As it turns out, I'm staying about a block away from the first apartment I lived in here after leaving Middlebury, so it's been a pretty fitting reintroduction to life in the developed world.
I don't even know where to start. The last two weeks have been pretty wild, between the mysterious Kenyan Bus Robbery, a final Restville blowout and one last Dr. James kidnapping, I was just glad to make it on the plane and through immigration without having my passport confiscated. Thanks for the memories Uganda.
And of course, three totally bizarre days in London. Looking back, I think we really just ate. I honestly don't remember much else. I think there were some castles and English gardens. I definitely remember some kind of huge ferris wheel right downtown. But it was mostly food. And beer. Delicious beer. Hopefully Luke can go back to Uganda nice and fat.
After one day back in the US, I'll say this. Cambridge is possibly the cutest place in the world. Almost sickeningly so. Perfect sidewalks, lots of perfectly contained and manicured plants and perfect couples pushing perfect little babies in strollers. Except that apparently when I greet random children here, people think I'm trying to go Michael Jackson on their kiddies. Settle down yuppies, nobody wants to steal your babies.
And another thing. Not that there was any shortage of cell phones in Uganda, but people didn't just sit there yacking away for hours at a time. Based on my scientific observation skills, everybody loves talking, just not to people they can touch. As long as you're not in the same physical area as someone, it's ok. This developed world can be a cold, lonely place.
And now, it's Saturday afternoon, which means it's time to drink and watch football. And not any of that nancy european football. I'm talking about good old fashioned American Football, in all its brief-moments-of-action-followed-by-lots-of-standing-around glory... Good luck Oregon, pray for no lightning yellow.
I don't even know where to start. The last two weeks have been pretty wild, between the mysterious Kenyan Bus Robbery, a final Restville blowout and one last Dr. James kidnapping, I was just glad to make it on the plane and through immigration without having my passport confiscated. Thanks for the memories Uganda.
And of course, three totally bizarre days in London. Looking back, I think we really just ate. I honestly don't remember much else. I think there were some castles and English gardens. I definitely remember some kind of huge ferris wheel right downtown. But it was mostly food. And beer. Delicious beer. Hopefully Luke can go back to Uganda nice and fat.
After one day back in the US, I'll say this. Cambridge is possibly the cutest place in the world. Almost sickeningly so. Perfect sidewalks, lots of perfectly contained and manicured plants and perfect couples pushing perfect little babies in strollers. Except that apparently when I greet random children here, people think I'm trying to go Michael Jackson on their kiddies. Settle down yuppies, nobody wants to steal your babies.
And another thing. Not that there was any shortage of cell phones in Uganda, but people didn't just sit there yacking away for hours at a time. Based on my scientific observation skills, everybody loves talking, just not to people they can touch. As long as you're not in the same physical area as someone, it's ok. This developed world can be a cold, lonely place.
And now, it's Saturday afternoon, which means it's time to drink and watch football. And not any of that nancy european football. I'm talking about good old fashioned American Football, in all its brief-moments-of-action-followed-by-lots-of-standing-around glory... Good luck Oregon, pray for no lightning yellow.
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