*A note: I am posting this, in fact, on Saturday night. So technically, it's not the subsequent day from my last post. My reason for this is thus: at the lovely hour of 3 AM tonight (or tomorrow, if we must be political) I will awake and drive to Amherst in order to catch a 4 AM bus to NYC. The full tale of this adventure will, undoubtably, be told to you in some virtual form on Monday. Enjoy for now!
Day 21: A Photograph of My Hands
In one of the first workshops I attended on my first day of orientation at college we were prompted with a surprisingly difficult activity. We were meant to take three things that we were either wearing or physical traits thought to represent how we defined ourselves.
One of the things I chose were my rings. I love them each so much and all have a story, but the one I'm going to tell you about today are my three favorites: the elephant ring, my spoon ring, and my owl ring.
Most people infer that because I have a silver ring with two elephants kissing each other than, by the very nature of them being elephants, I must have bought the ring in Africa. This is actually not true; I bought this ring in Hawai'i a few summers ago for something like seven bucks. It's my favorite ring because it does remind me of Uganda, stereotypical as that may be. And besides, it's plain adorable.
The second ring, my spoon ring, I bought in Charleston two summers ago while on vacation with my family. It's an antique from 1945 and the design is called "Queen Bee." I love that it's Southern, my other home, and that it is from one of my favorite years to study in American history.
And finally, the third ring, is my owl ring, which I bought in a little shop in my hometown that sells jewelry and other odds and ends. I love owls because they remind me of my mom and I love this ring because it reminds me of my hometown.
But the rings are not the reason for me busting out the webcam and prompting myself with a post surrounding my hands. The real reason I wanted to take a picture of my blue-nailpolished-hands here and then in Uganda was because of an incredibly profound story I heard when I first went to Gulu.
We, the pilgrims on the trip, had a morning visit with the Archbishop Odama, an incredibly wise and kind man whom I liked very much. He told us how he saw the world in metaphor by his own hands. Each hand, he said, represented the two hemispheres. On the inside there was white, and the outside, black. The five fingers were for five continents of people: Africa, the Americas, Europe, Asia, and Australia. When interlaced, they made the world.
My friend, Father Peter, and I are making the world together in this photograph taken in Attiak in 2007:
I don't feel there is any further explanation necessary. After all, pictures are worth more than words can say.
current jam: "yeah yeah yeah song" flaming lips
best thing in my life right now: my dad's 1989 copenhagen business school sweatshirt, captured in the image above.
days until departure: 45