vent

since it seems im unable to express myself unless im writing it down i had to log back in and post this, for personal reasons. for my own therapeutic remedy.

those who have been wondering. the-slacktivist isnt dead. simply in its cocoon.

that being said, i vent.


it hit me the other day what one of my greatest flaws is, and that is my naivety. i seem to expect of everyone else what id expect of myself, or at least that they will treat me how i expect they would want to be treated. i live by the golden rule. i try my best to keep my name clean with the ways of karma but... then it strikes me: people are wrapped up in their own realities. im guilty of this too. which is why its like me to believe the actions of others are direct reflections of my own actions, that the people in my life are projections of my consciousness here to teach me lessons in life and guide me as i try my best to share my sight of reality with the rest of the world. but in REALITY reality, everybody is on their own agenda.  they do unto others how they see fit and it has nothing to do with you most of the time. thats just that persons life colliding with yours in that moment. whether they coincidentally teach you something, or you grow from the bond, or even if you build a lasting relationship, thats all a matter beyond the control of both parties. thats just life doing its job.

i think thats what it is in most cases. peoples lives collide with each other and you stand there bumping heads until you two agree to move forward together, or until one gets tired of bumping the other and drives off, leaving the other hanging. if the timing isnt right it doesnt matter what the potential of your relationship could have been because its not convenient for them yet. maybe if they bump into you again when things work better for them then you'll maybe get to tap into that potential but in most cases, thats not going to happen.

and then you're left in a wreck of wasted potential wondering what you could have done earlier to prevent it and you realize theres nothing. you were fucked the moment you collided with them.

idk if i make any sense and i have thousands of more words to say on the matter but i wont.

#returnoftheslack #staytuned

Day 5

Today was one of the best I've had in a while. The past few days consisted of meeting people and office work. No complaints, just nothing enough for me to write about. I had a one on one with my supervisor (I guess that's what you'd call her) Hala and she really put things in perspective for me about my life and how I should personally handle things. She gave me advice for me and to me, and I appreciated that. I also went to a few really nice restaurants that will put to shame a majority of the restaurants I've ever been to in the US.

When I woke up at 4:30 am today, the sky looked gloomy. We were expecting one of my father's colleagues to come for breakfast before we started on our day around the town. My dad woke up late so I took over making breakfast after I finished getting ready, his friend, who happened to be one of the most chill out of anybody my dad's introduced me to, came through, and we ate and decided what the plans were for the day.

"We can do a calm little lunch in the city, and I can show you around. Or we can be a bit more adventurous and go kayaking down the nile."

Is that even a question?

We made a move on towards the source of the River Nile, Lake Victoria, one of the largest rivers in Africa. The ride was 2-3 hours long but it was very much so a nature ride so I did not mind at all. 

A part of what makes life here so beautiful is the scenery and weather. I was speaking to my our driver and he was telling me how "rain now, shine later;" the showers do not last long even though it is the rainy season. Luckily, the overcast cleared up by noon and by the time we got to the source of the Nile at noon, the sun was shining high, temperatures at a smooth 83 degrees most with a cool breeze.

A group of orphaned students greeted us with dance and song. The girls seemed to be having so much fun and were so happy that I was thoroughly enjoying their welcoming act. I blew them a kiss and donated some shillings for school supplies before moving on. Their happiness was infectious. They, like almost everyone I have met here, were so visibly appreciative and happy for life. Their brightly colored dresses and the echoing of the bells played by the boys behind them rang in my memory for the remainder of the day.

We sat and ate fresh tilapia on a dock sitting right over Lake Victoria while waiting for our 4:30 reservation to kayak down the Nile. After lunch, we took a guided boat ride around Lake Victoria and saw what is considered the direct source of the Nile, a bubbling of waters where the White Nile starts. This region of the Nile is where Mahatma Ghandi requested to have some of his ashes spread. I paid respects to his statue before leaving.

It was nearing 4:00 and we were still at the source of the Nile, so we had to hurry out or we'd miss our reservations. Unfortunately this meant that I could not purchase the cute orange dashiki that I saw coming in. 30,000 shillings thats... $12 US dollars if my math isn't wrong. It's alright though I'm sure to find more cute things to bring back home, even though I'm learning more each day how much things don't matter.

"Things" will never satisfy me the way the wobble of my legs hitting dry land post 3 or 4 hours of kayaking did. They will never do for me what watching the sunset in the middle of floating water plants and aquatic life in the Nile did. I will much rather feel the burn of my shoulder blades from rowing the kayak than feel the sensation of fresh material on my skin; certain things just don't add up. The closest thing to living these moments that I can possibly get is capturing photos of them, some of which I won't even post online because I honestly deem them too personal to get mixed up in the black hole of the internet.

To make a long story short, today was definitely one for the books, and the pictures are soon to follow.

Day Two

I went out on the town today with my dad. Woke up around one (still jet lagging, its 2:00 am as I type this) and went straight for my dad's office, located at the top of one of Kampala's many hills. Everyone seems to be really friendly so far. Welcoming me to the country and the city, received quite a few compliments since I landed even though I felt like I looked shitty. I must admit, its a nice change from the fast aggression of New York and the constant complaints of New Jersey. I have yet to get used to it, just as with the fact that they drive on the left side of the road, the steering wheel on the right half of the car. And that a US dollar is 2,500 Ugandan shillings. But these are minute changes, changes that I'll surely get adjusted to.

We then visited Hala at SIHA (Strategic Initiative for women in the Horn of Africa) which is the main organization & person I'll be working with. She is a wonderful woman. She welcomed me with open arms in Arabic, saying that I will learn a few things under her supervision. I followed for a majority of what she was saying. My Arabic is rusty but I understand it alright. The office is also located at the top of a hill; might I add that Kampala is full of hills. It overlooks the city and the view from her patio was astonishing. But I didn't come all the way over here to do office work. She suggested a number of options for me to get in the field. I have quite a few choices but we decided that I'll do office work for a few days just to catch up with the program and then by the weekend, get out and put some real work in.

They'll most likely have me blogging or doing some social media related work. Which isn't a problem. I learn best hands on anyhow.

I got to take a lot of photos today. It's really beautiful. The hills, the greenery, the plant life. The animal life. I almost forgot to mention how I was awaken by a rooster this morning. The air smells pure, none of that pollution shit. I feel at ease with the environment.

We went to eat at this cafe which reminded me of an African Panera Bread and visited a gift shop. There were quite a few Caucasian families dining in the cafe. My dad said that's to be expected. A lot of European and American humanitarians and activists come here for work. On top of that, Uganda, well Kampala at least, is a very religiously diverse city as well. "You may find a family here where one brother is Muslim and one is Christian."

 The streets here are intense. At rush hour, traffic is crazy. I'm talkin about, you thought New York was bad...The bouda-bouda (motorcycle taxis) drivers have no regard for the flow of traffic and cut through the sides and drive on opposite sides of the road. I've seen quite a few policemen, but they must have bigger issues than controlling traffic. The roads themselves are underdeveloped, tight, and filled with potholes. 

I have another day off tomorrow to meet with more people that I'll be working with and complete the work I have to finish for my people back in the US. Is it the weekend yet? I'm ready for the hands-on work. Put me in the field!

- Peace and blessings. Be back soon.

PS:

day one

It is 3:19 in the morning and I have just settled into my dad's apartment in Kampala, Uganda. It is nice here. The air is warm; it has been a rainy period here for some time but today the skies were clear. Lucky me. I am comfortable and happy to be away from US soil. This change in scenery is definitely well needed.

The travel over here was surprisingly eye-opening. From New York to Amsterdam, I flew world business class with my father. No sooner did I sit down was I greeted by a flight attendant offering me champagne by the glass. Needless to say, I kept them coming throughout the flight and wrote some great work for the show I'll be performing at upon my return, quite under the influence. 

This was not the case however for my flight from Amsterdam to Nairobi, where I would transfer to yet another flight into  Uganda. My dad was unable to use his frequent flier miles to upgrade me & I was stuck in economy class, next to two grumpy old men. At least I had the window seat.

The set up is really classist, you know? I mean, you get what you pay for but it's really crazy of how direct of a reflection it is of US society. The rich live in luxury while the economy's workers make do with the leftovers and what little space they have to move, both literally and figuratively.

But that's a matter that I have not much power over at this time, so all I can do is observe for now. And hope to one day live so that I only fly first class. 

My father's urging me to go to sleep now, to set the jet lag off as soon as possible. I am wide awake however. I see that my insomnia has no regard for where in the world I am. It's all good though. I always manage.

- Peace and blessings. Be back soon. 

pre-day one things

I really hope I didn't forget anything, I did all my packing for the next 6 weeks in 2 hours. It helped that I had a checklist but you never really know until you get there. It is 2:19 am, standard eastern time as I am typing this in the comfort of my home in New Jersey. At this time tomorrow night I will be in the air somewhere between Amsterdam and Nairobi. And at this time the following night I'll probably be on my father's rooftop in Uganda.

It's finally starting to settle in. I have no idea what I'm in for, I just know that I'm ready for it, for everything, for all the changes.

The other night I was lusty. I wanted badly to break the dry spell and let a man with a gentle touch and loud spirit get to know me wholly. But something was holding me back. 
"Why... we both want this..."

But... 6 weeks is a long time...

"You think that's gonna change things between you & I?"

No but it will between I & myself...

"What does that have to do with now?"

Everything.

Now has everything to do with tomorrow. If I make a decision today, it will be a decision I live with tomorrow. Whether I regret or accept or just live with it, each movement through time changes the outcome of the future. The future which only doesn't exist "yet" because we haven't seen it... Making it akin to a voice on the other end of a telephone call from the opposite hemisphere of the globe...

I will now quote one of my favorite novels, Slaughterhouse 5: All moments, past, present, and future always have existed, always will exist.

As I sit and think before my trip, I realize this visit has already happened. In a few months, I will be laying down, reminiscing about how something reminds me of the time I was in Kenya doing this or that.... It just hasn't happened yet. And in order for it to get to that, I just have to continue to live.

So that I will. With a clear conscious and a peaceful state of mind, I can't wait to live in and capture the moments of tomorrow.

bridges

Ahead of me faced the distance of the road I have yet to travel. I stared upon it, cautious of whats to come but too overwhelmed with the curiousity and the certainty of its promises to be insecure with my decision to build. A leap of blindness across the vast waters running swiftly, intervening, would be foolish; a look behind me could tell me that. The past jump into the waters left me drowning, unable at first to handle the pressure. Unable to breath, unable to see without the pure water roughly washing my unclean eyeballs, the pressure painfully piercing my lungs, unable to feel anything but fluid motion. 

I was fortunately able to draw up the strength to swim back to the surface. Once there, with exhaustion I let myself be carried by the surrounding moya. No longer at a point of concern, rather control, of my life, It was easier to take it easy and go with the stream. This worked, but only shortly, because it was only long enough before the wind stopped and the water became still and I found myself floating. Floating in neither time nor space but water, looking around for a way to walk once more. Floating in an intangible reality, where everything looked the same but nothing was. With the help of a branch from a nearby tree I hauled myself back on land. Wet, cold, and lost, I was grateful just to have regained control. I let the sunlight dry my skin and continued, as I have been conditioned to continue.

Turning back to the road ahead, and the waters once again interjecting me from my travels, I knew now what to do. I would not try to jump again. Although the distance seemed shorter, I could not tell, and I do not know if I would be able to swim back up if I were to drown again. All I had was what the earth offered and all I could do was build. Not much of a handyman, I expect the bridge to be bumpy, I expect it to have its flaws and I expect it not to last long after I pass it. However as long as it serves its duty to get me to the otherside of the riverbed, I was satisfied.

So with a sigh and another glance behind me to reassure myself of my decision, I began to build. Ready to continue once more.

Silence

Unanswered questions bounce back and forth echoing along the inner walls of my skull. The consistent chatter is relentless, to the point that these very thoughts have become incomprehensible. My only wish is to release myself of them, to "let go and let god" as they have been telling me, but at times I wonder if they have my best interest at heart. Am I stubborn, or am I aware of my own divinity to a point where letting go and letting god is to let go and let myself blossom without the weight of this self-doubt slowing me down? How long is the road to redemption? Whenever I listen to "their" suggestions, I find myself back where I began, questioning my role in my own life. 

 

It seems I have only been able to make sense of the murmurs with eyes closed and mind open, head towards the night sky. The tears comforted by the incandescent glow of the moon, and all the flickers from the millions of candles in her company. I wonder what the problem is. 

In reality, the issue is my impatience with my world. I live alone in my mind, embodying the thoughts I have envisioned over time. I have seen tomorrow and have visited back to yesterday time and time again. I remain idle in the present, too impressed by the grandeur of the days ahead to be content with the labors of today. They say to live in the moment. But I am impatient and confused. Long days followed by longer nights leave me tangled in a mix of time and effort, unsure of where I really am but programmed to continue as I have been continuing. How far away is the promise land? 

The wind carries the voice of my unspoken questions to the atmosphere of my world as I continue to dig deep for answers. The silence that responds is astoundingly comforting. The echoing is residing and their comments mean nothing to me. I have seen a thousand yesterdays and have watched the sun rise tomorrow, a thousand times more. They say I live in a dream world. Presently, I acknowledge their commentary. I know they will have nothing more to say in the upcoming tomorrows.