Pillow Talk

March 2 | Arrived in Entebbe via Brussels from D.C.

Cool night, some rain showers.

There is a special VIP section for people who have either picked me up from or dropped me off to an airport. Another for those I have shared flights with, another for those I have met up during short layovers, and another for those who are airport friends or have made airport friends with me (Amal was the first of both of these). Shout-out to everyone, and the ‘ports. Those moments rank highest in my life, next to every late night I kept Sultan awake with conversation and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan while he navigated a car full of sleeping passengers to a place to rest their heads. He never failed, both at getting us there and making sure it was as late in the night as possible - but maybe (doubt it!) he did it so I could get real good at telling stories and reciting “Dama Dam Mast Qalandar” on Sunday mornings with Noor instead of the Quranic verses I was told to memorize for the Sunday School test. For this horrible, bad behavior I was failed and suspended, but given permission to teach my own class when I asked. Didn’t “graduate” - but I had the knowledge all along, as most of us do. Sister Hira was the best. But so is Miss Hira, Madam Hira, Teacher Hira and … uh, regular Hira.

The African Roots Guest House hostess picked me up from the airport and brought me home to rest up before I head to Kampala, and then Mukono, where I will stay this month. The drive was about 15 minutes from the airport, just enough time for me to reveal that I’m an easy guest.

I didn’t have to ask many questions, from meeting me she knew exactly how to take care of me. Once home, I took a shower, ate a mango, washed some clothes, and am now rolling around until my mind decides what it wants to dream about. In the morning, I will walk down to Lake Victoria for the sunrise.

The wifi password is “purplewireless” - I can hear the purple calling!