By telling us your country of residence we are able to provide you with the most relevant travel insurance information.
Please note that not all content is translated or available to residents of all countries. Contact us for full details.
Shares
Have you ever traveled to a place that shatters all the opinions you’ve previously digested? Have you ever experienced all your weathered layers peel away until what’s uncovered is a layer full of life? I recently traveled to Uganda and found something more than I was expecting- I found a bridge connecting me to a new world. I walked this bridge the whole way, and ended up transforming with each stride. Life in Uganda looks very different from my life in America. I was witnessing a rhythm of living I had never moved to, but I wanted to learn. In America, I have never seen a child climbing a tree while searching for the juiciest fruit. I think my Grandparents owned memories of such things but I don’t know them well enough to say for certain. In Uganda, I watched as a child jumped from the branches, raced to his Grandmother, and together they shared fruit and belly laughs that rippled across the grass and over to my ears. In this new world the sun was always smiling and the eyes of the people radiated that warmth. Their smiles were an invitation- they wanted to be seen and have you feel seen in return. At home in America, the smiles of the people in passing were a polite defense. Smiles that would shrug onto their faces as if asking permission to go undisturbed or unnoticed. I watched with a heart full of longing as I watched groups of school mates, parents with children, and elders walking the roadside together. Their faces beaming with laughter and their eyes an echo of their smiles. The children would pick up rocks and make up games, the parents would teach their young to follow in step, and the elders would watch with wizened eyes. Uganda was a world full of deep connections, and I thought to myself how my relationships might change if I was walking long distances with my companions or being taught by my elders instead of the schools. My favorite day in Uganda was the day I was given the opportunity to share a jackfruit with the village. The mothers and I had sat around all morning cracking open peanut shells and caring for the newest babies. All week I had been exploring the senses of this new world. There were textures I had never felt in the silk of the corn, colors I had never seen blossom in wildflowers, flavors I had never tasted in the way they made ketchup, sounds I had never heard like how the world was so much louder when it was silent, and the smell of the jackfruit- that was a treat by itself. I had become so used to my American routine that the child in me had stopped exploring back home. I covered myself in excuses because I assumed I already knew what there was to know. In Uganda I did not have the option of such foolish notions. I knew nothing about their world, and I was full of excitement in being able to explore again as a child would. My new friends climbed a tree, cut down the ripest jackfruit, and together we all passed pieces around and ate together. The simple moments of presence were truly the greatest present. It’s easy to get comfortable in the worlds and routine we live in. It’s easy to excuse exploration because we think we have uncovered answers already. I realized in Uganda the reason that I travel, because I cannot get comfortable in one world of living if I am constantly merging new worlds. There is a child in me that loves to explore the world through my senses, and the world will always provide me with newness if I am looking for it. Home has become my very bones, and I am an explorer traveling across the bridges between worlds. I have found that the bridges are often built from gratitude, and I have never been more grateful for the opportunity to live.