Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

 I have just finished reading this latest book from Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, and have really loved it. Adichie is firmly one of my favourite authors. This is a huge book but I lapped it up, sneaking half hours to read it when I should have been doing other things...

It tells the story of two Nigerians, girl- and boyfriend at school, callled Ifemelu and Obinze, who both travel to the west as adults to find the "better life" they have dreamed and talked about as students.  Ifemelu gets a scholarship to the US, and Obinze finds work as an illegal immigrant in the UK. The book is partly their love story, but more about their experiences as immigrants, their relationships, how it is to be black (which wasn't an issue back home) and eventually how they return to Nigeria and pick up new lives there.

Ifemelu takes to blogging about her experiences as a "Non-American Black" and the sections on her blogging are brilliant, including some of her posts and readers' reactions.

For me the parts I read most avidly were the transitions, both how Ifemelu arrived in the US, and then how she felt about returning home after fifteen years abroad. I was surprised how completely I related to the descriptions of her initial reactions to the west. Her shock that it was not all as clean, wealthy, and beautiful as she had come to believe. Her feelings of confusion about everything. Her disappointment with the fruit and vegetables.

This is such a rich book, revealing about what it is to be an ex-pat, and a returnee, a woman, a friend, a desperate job-seeker, a lover, a writer. I highly recommend it.

Crossing cultures - how is your blue line?

This diagram was part of the Thrive (Preparation for Missions) Lecture today, on Culture and Culture-Shock/Stress.

I delegated the lecture (yay!) to ECM missionary Jim Memory, who has worked in Spain for some years and still divides his time between Redcliffe College, and Spain.

The diagram speaks for itself, but, it is useful to see where you are on the line... Jim pointed out that it is the classical Cultural Adaptation diagram, often used - but, it is a bit simplistic. For one thing, you may or may not have a honeymoon phase when you arrive, or arrive home, depending on your expectations and how much they are met initially. Also, the expectation seems to be according to this, that when you reach the Adaptation stage, your emotional well-being goes along in a straight line. Well obviously it doesn't, and all kinds of things can change it. For some people, they are more happy than they have ever been once they have adapted well to the new culture - so their blue line would be running along way above its original level, while others may run along at a slightly depressed level even though adapted fairly well. For me, the stage my children were at and my capacity/energy/time to be involved in teaching and the community affected my blue line a lot. I would say from the time I arrived in Uganda, my blue line went gradually downwards... not too badly, but to some extent.

On Culture Shock, Jim said he prefers the term Culture Stress to Culture Shock, in that it is a steady and continuing factor not just the one-off at the start. I did get about two days of what I would actually call culture shock, when I first arrived in Zambia in 1992: we were in a small, crowded car driving to my rural mission station, with one older missionary who was driving us, two brand-new short-termers (one of whom was me), one Zambian lady with a newborn who cried A LOT, and two years worth of luggage... I was overwhelmed and mind-boggled by all that I was seeing out of the car windows, the dirt road, the bush, people walking walking walking everywhere, four grown men sitting in the shell of a rusted-out car, just sitting there, women with bundles on their heads, little bright vegetable stalls by the roadside, goats, chickens, ramshackle wooden booths, mud huts... and I felt scared stiff. When we stopped to buy some boiled eggs for lunch in a scruffy shop, I couldn't get out of the car. I couldn't eat anything either, and I didn't want to greet any of these African people. I wanted to just hide in the car. A good night's sleep and a second day of exposure made me feel better about it and when we arrived in our future home, I was OK.

I had a massive long honeymoon period, and the slowly wearing culture stress for me came really only in Uganda when I became so tired, and conflicted about mothering versus mission involvement, feeling guilty about some of my decisions...  actually there were of course many factors, which I won't list out here! But I was explaining to a student over lunch afterwards, that the cultural differences were normally very manageable for me, I had adapted very well I think, but, it was when I became over-tired and stressed about one/any thing, the other factors such as lack of privacy at home suddenly hit all the harder and became big issues. They get you when you are down! For me, the driving, heat, power cuts, and money issues were some of those triggers.

If I were doing a study on sustainability on the mission field, I would look into this and try to figure out how I could have overcome these things. To me then, the things (heat and power cuts etc) seemed immutable, and my choices (eg to drive the children to Kampala) seemed like the only choosable ones, and so, the downward blue line, was I suppose inevitable. For me I don't have to solve that now, I just have to finish recovering! And think how I would advise others going in future. It is not simple, is it.

Re-entry revisited

I am skimming through a book by Marion Knell called "Burn-Up or Splash Down - Surviving the culture shock of re-entry," and it looks good already. Isn't it a bit late to be reading that? I hear you ask... Don't worry, I did read a couple of re-entry books before our return in 2011; I am reading this now to see if it would be a helpful one to recommend to others, and also to see if it can shed light on why I found re-entry so stressful, and also because I will be teaching on re-entry later in my missions course, and also because I want to be able to help others who return from living abroad in future.

These are the five stages of re-entry as described by David Pollock in Third Culture Kids, quoted by Marion Knell on p11 of her book:

"1. Involvement A state in which you feel you belong in a place and society; people know you; you are committed and have meaningful relationships and responsibilities.

2. Leaving A time when you celebrate, grieve and say farewells. You withdraw from responsibilities, commitments and relationships. It is a stage marked by a mixture of emotions, such as excitement, anticipation, grief and guilt.

3. Transition The period when you first arrive in the new situation. It is best defined in the word chaos - feeling frustrated, confused, purposeless, and ignorant, not knowing people, places and social skills. This can affect mental, physical and spiritual health.

4. Entering The moment when things begin to come together and make sense again, when you discover the route map. This is a constructive phase, when a new sense of control is developed, a sense of significance and security. At this point, a person is willing to experiment, to try out some of the newly acquired skills and experiences.

5. Reengagement The point when the person feels secure and involved again, accepted and belonging. Re-adaptation has occurred, and a sense of personal security and identity has been reestablished.

All of this takes at least one year."

Looking back over the year and a half since we moved back here, I can relate completely to this description of the five stages. Stage 3 was definitely the hardest, and the longest. I would say stage 4 started when the second year started, when I began to feel connected and that I knew what I was doing. Stage 5 is very recent, and I think has only come with being involved at Redcliffe again, interacting with the students, and back in teaching. Maybe for me, an important part has been resuming my identity as a missionary and a teacher, and feeling that I am now contributing to God's Mission by helping prepare other people. I feel as though this is the right place for me to be - trouble is, it doesn't pay enough! Unless Redcliffe gives me a full time job... So that is a bit of a dilemma!

"From Surviving to Thriving" (thanks Gwyn!)

This is a re-post from a friend, Gwyn's, blog: she worked with us in Uganda for five years and returned to the US earlier this year - stopping off to stay with us for a few days on the way. She is quoting it from a website called expatwomen.com. It seems to me that these are very helpful suggestions. I should have read them a year ago! Some I have discovered for myself and others not so much...:

From Surviving To Thriving

Here are my five tips to help move you from surviving to thriving as a repatriate:

1.	Follow Your Joy.  If there was ever a time to take care of yourself, it is now. Each day, ask yourself what will bring you joy and do it. Your joy path shall be sacred and nothing shall hinder you from fulfilling it each day. It can be as simple as spending five quiet moments in silence, taking a walk or calling a friend, but you must set aside time for this as a non-negotiable.
2.	Pace of Grace.  Maintain a pace that is sustainable as you acclimate to your new surroundings. Do not go chasing after the wind. You may have an unlimited number of choices for entertainment and activities, but withhold from signing up for everything until you have your bearings secure. Be an observer while you settle-in. Rest. Be easy on yourself and on others in your family.
3.	Refuge.  Regardless of whether you are single or have a family, you need to have a refuge to return to. Create a sacred center within the context of a physical or emotional/spiritual place to be your refuge or resting place.
4.	Make Local Connections.  A clever strategy whether you move home or abroad, is to always befriend at least one local person, find one local place and find one local activity where you can connect locally to help you during your first year. Focus on finding at least one of each when you repatriate: you can always add more later.
5.	One Year.  Prepare yourself for at least a one-year adjustment period. It may take longer, but the one-year mark is a good opportunity to reevaluate what else you might need to make your new home, truly feel like home.

The man who fell to earth and me

Today Felix Baumgartner jumped out of a capsule, 24 miles above the earth, right at the edge of space. He free fell and then parachuted down to earth, taking ten minutes. There were apparently many ways he could have died attempting this... (?!) He was breaking a fifty year old record by jumping from this height down to earth.

NOTHING could induce me to be remotely interested in doing anything anywhere close to this. Nothing could induce me to do a bunjee jump. I wouldn't even really want to jump off the high board at the swimming pool come to that.

However, if I think the thing is worth it, I will do it even if it scares me. Like, preaching to 800 Ugandan students and staff at community worship. I was scared stiff then. And like, moving to rural Zambia for two years, not really having a clue what it would be like. So maybe I shouldn't paint myself a coward. I just don't want to waste my fear on unnecessary pastimes, like, jumping off high places...! I have plenty of things to be afraid of without looking for novel ways to try out that feeling...

When we were still living in Uganda and thinking ahead to moving back to England, I felt sick with fear about some aspects of the move. I was really scared of leaving Crosslinks, my employer and support and safety net for fourteen years - mainly because I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to get a job and therefore an income. I was nervous about how financially we would get through the nine months before Dan's job at Redcliffe started. I was scared about what schools we would get the children into, and so scared of them ending up in oversubscribed sink schools with bad behaviour and poor results. I was also worried about what house we would find to live in. I was a bit scared that Dan would hate living in England and resent me for it. So, just a few small things like that.

But, I wanted to move back to England, and Dan and I both felt that the time was right. I read and reread a Bible passage from Ephesians Ch 3:14-21 especially the verse which says, "I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fulness of God." I kept telling myself that if I really knew how much God loves me, then, why would I be afraid about anything?

But I still grew more and more nervous as the move approached.

Before going to England we visited the US for some time. One day in July, we were in the Boundary Waters in northern Minnesota, canoeing and camping with Dan's parents. Right after that holiday, I was booked to fly to England, ahead of Dan and the children, to begin setting up home there. I was tight with nerves on the last couple of days. But on the day we were due to leave the Boundary Waters, I was sitting on a rock at the edge of our campsite, overlooking the lake, praying, and soaking in the beautiful scenery all around. Suddenly I noticed a bald eagle, sitting majestic on a high pine tree, surveying the outlook, from one side to the other. He looked out and down over the whole scene, and had probably been aware of me there the whole time. It struck me that the eagle was like God, watching out for us, overseeing us, all the time, while we are mainly unaware that he is even there.

That picture of the bald eagle, king of the wilderness, stayed with me and was a comfort for quite a while. But I lived on my nerves for months until it built up too much and my body rebelled.

So I am in the process of trying to tackle this problem, anxiety. Why would a Christian who has believed in God for forty five years and who has seen God provide for her and give her a fantastic life and a wonderful family, who is in good physical health, who has friends and hobbies, why would this person suffer from anxiety? I think in the case of our move back to England, there was a lot to be anxious about, but still...

For now, I am definitely coming out of the other end of the tunnel. Practically speaking, the last piece of the scary puzzle was put in place last week - when Alex took his grammar school entrance test and got a good  high pass mark, so that he is guaranteed a grammar school place for next year. Such good news! So  - for now - there is nothing left to be afraid about (apart from global warming).

But I feel I am beginning to move in the right direction in any case - I wasn't even all that nervous about Alex's test, which I took as an encouraging sign. I have had some really good conversations with various different helpful people, which I might write about another time. The list of One Thousand Gifts (I've got to 69...!) and the lessons about thankfulness are a big help. I do think and pray and hope that I am making progress.

Seasons are all very well but

When I remembered the joys of sunshine and warmth on your skin, when summer started (not that it ever came to much!), when the light grew brighter and I realised how much I had missed it for all those darker months, I already began to feel a teeny worm of dread for the winter to come, the one that lay ahead. So I was taken by surprise when, as the air felt suddenly cooler and leaves began to blow around, that I was actually a bit excited about the change of season. The Bramley apples growing again in our garden, mulberries on a massive tree in the college grounds, leaves turning to red orange and brown, pulling cosy scarves out of the drawer ... OK change is not so bad after all.

But, there are a couple of things I could do without. One is the horrible cough and cold which all of the family have got. I seem to have it worst at the moment. My voice has gone away to nothing. And I am coughing like a dirty old man. My throat is itchy and sore at the same time. Poor me!

The other annoying thing is the way our car steams up. I have noticed it is worse than other cars, and I have discovered that Renaults have a quirk in the air conditioning which means that water gets stuck in it and makes the car fog up. Last winter we kept a towel in the car and had to wipe the windows down every time we got in. This year I have bought a dehumidifier for the car, which is like a fat cushion which absorbs moisture - so far it has worked well.

But, in the spirit of counting a thousand gifts, this post is not going too well... Later in Ann Voskamp's book "A Thousand Gifts" you find out with her that we have to thank God for the "ugly-beautiful" things as well, knowing that all of it is God-given and that he has a plan and loves us. So said with gritted teeth, "Thanks for colds and thanks for fogged-up windows... but yuk!"

A couple of seasonal things I have listed though:
Purple bobbles of blackberries and red ovals of rose hips growing in the tangly hedges.
The Cathedral bells ringing in the dusk from the heart of the city.
The sound of wind caught in an oak tree in an autumn lane.

Uganda Partners

A few days ago the Uganda Partners UK, for whom Dan has been working one day a week this past year, met again at Graham and Fiona Carrs' home near Oxford, and I was voted in as a trustee! So exciting! But one of the first proposals was that every trustee should aim to raise two thousand pounds and my heart sank... - you mean I have to do fund-raising?? But fortunately that idea got nixed pretty quickly - phew! Well of course the idea is to do some fund-raising... and I really will... but a hard and fast goal like that was just a bit scary (pathetic I know.)

The first newsletter to be emailed out to our database of supporters has been written by Dan (blood sweat and tears...), and after it has been circulated around the trustees, I will post a copy on here.
There is also a website for the Uganda Partners UK, and this is the link to it:

http://www.ugandapartners-uk.org

It looks great, but it is not quite finished yet I believe. But you can check it out if you are interested.

This is the current group of trustees, minus Tudor Griffiths who could not make it to this meeting.
The other new member is Julius Mucunguzi, a Ugandan who now lives in the UK and is the Communications Officer for the Commonwealth Secretariat, and a great guy. We are so happy to have him and his expertise on board.

l to r, Julius Mucunguzi, Roger Marsden, Chris Dobson, Graham Carr, Me, Dan

One plan already being worked on is to have a parallel centenary celebration event in Oxford on June 1st next year.

Whilst I feel more and more settled here in Gloucester, it also feels good to have a real connection with UCU and to feel we are still involved even in a small way. Recently I have reconnected with a couple of university friends, and got to know someone who was in Zambia at the neighbouring mission station to ours at the same time as me, and with my same mission (AEF), so we knew all kinds of friends in common - so I feel as though the threads from my former lives keep multiplying. I suppose the key is not to feel pulled in different directions by those threads, but to enjoy the sense of being in a tapestry which is still being sewn, growing and becoming fuller and richer, as it all interweaves over and over.

Looking ahead to winter...

Today it was 26 degrees! One of the hottest days of the summer!

But I popped into a charity shop anyway and tried on a chunky beige cardigan... which didn't look too good, so I didn't buy it.

But the fact is, my thoughts have begun to turn to winter, and in particular, how to stay warm this winter... Because I am determined not to be cold this winter, whatever it takes.

Several things have informed the realisation that it is all about the clothes. One is Alex's school which runs something called Forest School, an outdoor education programme where once a week they play around in a kind of swamp, making things, even in the wettest coldest winter weather. One of the mottoes of Forest School is, "There is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing." Hmm.

Another thing is, that I have been googling around the question, "How long does it take to adjust to a colder climate?" And all I can find is a raft of people's comments giving other people advice about adjusting, and it is ALL about the clothing.

From my experience last winter, this would be my advice to someone moving back to a cold winter after living in a hot place:

You need a good warm hat - we all know that heat goes out through the head.

You definitely need a good warm windproof coat - heat seeps out through all other clothing.

You need seriously good warm boots - heat goes out like anything through the soles of the feet.

You need leg warmers or longjohns because heat escapes like crazy through the ankles.

You need a woolly scarf, not a cotton one, because heat really does escape from the neck no matter what else you are wearing.

Oh, and gloves.

All these things are available in charity shops and are starting to appear there already- but wool does get moggy and pillated, so I plan to be choosy, and may splash out on some new things. In any case, this winter apparently I am just going to look like a heap of wool and blankets.

This mental preparation was partly triggered by a couple we recently met, who have returned from living abroad, and were cold even though it was a pretty warm sunny August day. So we talked about how long it actually takes the body to acclimatise to a cooler or hotter climate. They had read somewhere that it takes roughly three months for a new climate to feel "OK" as in, I can manage this, and it takes three years for a new climate to feel normal. Which means, I have a few more years to go...
(And we aren't even in Minnesota - this is temperate England!)

This was me last winter with Dan and a friend Pauline, who used to live and work in Tanzania. I was very cold that day... but still smiling I guess.

Woman Returner

I just found out that this is a term for women who go "back to work" after taking several years "off"  during the baby and young children phase. There is so much that could be said about that statement... But my point is about the returning - to the formal workplace, shall we say.

Last November I started working as the librarian at WTC (Westminster Theological Centre) - which runs theology courses, taught in teaching centres dotted all over the UK.

In the beginning I had a lot to learn, since much of the job is computer-based, using Excel and an on-line cataloging system which I did not know before. And it was the first time I have ever worked in an office situation for any length of time. I have done some temp-ing jobs in offices before, which were always different and interesting in their own ways, but only for a few days so I didn't have to invest myself in them really at all. (But I have some funny stories from those jobs though...)

So this has been a whole new experience for me. In one way I wasn't exactly a "Woman Returner" because I had been teaching a bit and ordering books and helping run a library in Uganda, so I wasn't purely the at-home Mum. But, there is a big shock for the returning "missionary wife" who I believe comes into a category all of her own.

All my life in Africa I viewed myself as the missionary, not the missionary wife. I went out to Zambia to work full time, and even when I had babies, after maternity leave I worked full time because childcare was so affordable, lovely, and so do-able in that my babies and "Amai" came with me to work.

But when we were in Uganda with slightly older children, and I was trying to do an hour-long school trip, drive home and lecture, as well as everything else I was involved with, I reached a point of extreme tiredness, irritability, and disaffection with Uganda and mission - and I came down with shingles, and finally I decided I had to stop working for a while. I took a few terms off teaching, lived the ex-pat life a bit, had coffee with other school mums in town, took up art classes, and then did a writing course, and life became more manageable. Especially when other families joined in the school commute, and basically saved my bacon!

Then after a while I did begin to go back to teaching, but I kept it quite minimal, one course per semester, and I still hosted a women's students' group and helped with the Children's Library, so I was making various contributions, but not pushing myself. And that was how I finished out my time in Uganda.

With the Daycare children (including Mary Bartels), at the UCU Children's Library

How much a missionary wife with young children and a long school commute should also work, is a question many of us have tried to sort out. You are there because you want to help, you have been called to help, and you are being supported by people back home to help - who might even have expectations of you - but you also have to not burn out, (which I think I nearly did),  and you also have your unavoidable and overarching role of caring for your children and your husband, who might also be pushing himself to burn-out point in some cases.

And just being a mum of small children in a developing country which is not originally your home, with no grandparents or aunties around, (only adopted ones, which are also great...), is stretching and draining at times.

So, we all make our own choices and hopefully find sustainable ways of doing the work we feel we are supposed to do while also surviving and even, enjoying! the life we have been given in Africa.

If you are reading this and you are not a missionary (a what?!!) and are not in Uganda or elsewhere because of the peculiar belief that we are there to do stuff to "help," to play a part in showing God's love for people and the world, which is what took me to Africa in the first place, - then you will think we have our knickers in a twist probably, but, you will most likely have your version of the dilemma of working and being a mum - and we all see a need to contribute anyway don't we? and to be busy and to be useful, competent people and not just loll about at home (tempting though that is...) So, I'm sure you get it.

Anyway, the point is, that then when you return to "normal" paid employment in your home country, suddenly everything is very different. For one thing, you are being paid for your time and work, to do a job which has to be done, and therefore you have to achieve what you are being paid to achieve. It is no longer a case of, whatever I do will be useful, and appreciated. Not that what you do matters more, or less actually, but, it is simply being expected of you, and you have to be able to do it - so that's quite a different kind of pressure.

Secondly, if you have been out of the developed world for quite a while, or if you have been outside of a technological environment, you will find that everything has changed and so there is a lot to learn, and people will expect rapid responses to emails, appearance right on time at work, all kinds of techie skills, and there are no excuses like, the power is off, or the internet is off, or, we had visitors. (Not that I would have ever used those as excuses...!)

Thirdly, and crucially, you do not get people saying "Well done for the work!" or "Thank you for the love!" at various points in your day.

Fourthly, there are a lot less public holidays.

I am so fortunate that I work with really lovely people who are supportive, kind, and friendly. But I joined this company at a time when it was moving offices, and going through changes, and everyone was quite preoccupied with all of that. And I had to desk hop for about two months, which didn't help. And I was at the peak of my stress and anxiety about everything. So, it was a pretty rough two or three months, I would say, where although I was so thankful to have this job and loved the people there, I also found it very stressful for quite a while. But it is great now.

So, this is meant to be a word of encouragement to the "Returnee Returner" - going back to the workplace is a bit rough at first, - expect it to be - , but keep going, don't panic, trust in your past capabilities and in the abilities you know God has given you, pray!, and it will all be OK in the end!

Flashback

This morning we went to the lovely church we have finally all agreed upon - this has been a long story... - and in the middle of the service I was suddenly back in Uganda, transported by a song.

We normally sing up-to-the-minute songs at our church, songs I have mostly never heard before since our Uganda fare was so South Africa based, or else traditional hymns. But today we had a baptism and so a couple of better-known songs had been chosen. The band started us off on "Oh Lord My God, when I in awesome wonder...." and suddenly I was back in Uganda, in Nkoyoyo Hall, standing in a long row of Ugandan students, lecturers and my family - usually with the Fountains somewhere nearby - if I looked to the back past hundreds of singing swaying students I would see Brian Dennison and the kids up in the higher rows at the back - usually a smattering of American USP students somewhere - often a few other muzungu visitors - but mostly hundreds of African students, staff, nurses, children, Mukono people, singing at the tops of their voices, some arms up in the air, some eyes closed, a group up on the stage in long lines smiling and dancing, making dust rise from the floor with their shifting feet, one student singing over-loud, enthusiastically and pretty often off-key into the mike... The overall emotions evident all around were love for Jesus, love of singing, love of movement, and love of being together. My own mind would enjoy those feelings and enter into them, I was almost always glad I was there, but I would also be aware of the heat, aware that we were singing for a very long time, and knowing that a long sermon was to come...

Church in Uganda was one place where I could feel homesick for my familiar church in Exeter, where we had comfortable seats and carpet, sang songs once or twice through only, had tweny-five minute, orderly, exegetical sermons, and where you knew the service wouldn't suddenly extend to two and a half hours for some function or extra special number... But church in Uganda was also where I sometimes specially felt excited to be living in Africa, when the students rushed onto the stage to dance with abandon to a song from their part of Uganda, or when students did hilarious sketches acted brilliantly (not always...), and when John Senyonyi or Fred Baalwa preached so brilliantly it made me proud to be there hearing them.

I haven't often time-warped back to Mukono so it caught me unawares this morning, but I liked it!

Happy St Bartholomew's Day, by the way.

Second time around

As our second year living in England begins, I have definitely noticed a sea-change in my state of mind. Doing things for the second time makes me realise we have been here a while now, and it is beginning to sink in that there is a long while still ahead. Subconsciously for the whole last year I think I was living in a "temporary" state of mind - I knew we were here for a long time, but my mind didn't really know it.

We are still in the summer holiday, but next week we have to buy new school shoes and replace a few bits of uniform. Thinking about doing that again, I realise that this time I know which shops to go to, I know roughly how much things will cost, I know how long they might last, I know whether we need to get one or two of each thing (or more) - hey, I even know what schools the children will be in in two weeks time... that is a lot more "knowing" than I possessed this time last year. It feels a lot more comfortable, and I feel much more settled.

A Warning...

When we were first setting up home here, we went mad for car-boot sales - which are like massive garage sales or second-hand flea markets. You can find everything at them, from ancient bikes, fishing rods, good quality second-hand furniture, books, clothes, plants, hamster cages... One day, we came away with a large brown bean-bag, a pedal-bin for the bathroom and a "tall boy" (wardrobe) for Alex - all items we specifically had gone to look for.

But we also learned a couple of lessons about false economy... For example, we bought a cd player for ten pounds - and when we got it home it had an awful squeak. But there's no come-back on electrical items bought at car-boot sales, so we just had to put that down to experience.

Another item we bought was a microwave, for fifteen pounds. We were right at the end of the day, and when I opened it I commented that we were getting some free dinner with it, as it had brown splashes all over the bottom. The seller actually said, "Oh I'm selling these things for my elderly mother - that was probably her tomato soup..." - without apologising for leaving it dirty! But we bought it in any case. When I cleaned it up at home, I found out that under one large splodge of soup was, in fact, a patch of rust. So they had probably splashed the soup on there on purpose... We decided to use it anyway, and it worked perfectly well.

However, recently an electrician came to check all the cables and sockets etc in our office at WTC. He failed the microwave oven there, as it was emitting too much radiation according to his little geiger counter thingy... So I told him about our microwave story, and he immediately made all kinds of tutting noises and told me that we should be very wary of rust in a microwave - as rust can allow the microwaves to leak out... Oops.

So today Dan and I took our bargain microwave to the city dump.

Going to "the tip" as it is called here, was like driving onto the set of Wall-E - but with different sections for every imaginable kind of waste - and large signs promising that they recycle 75 % of all household waste there which is good to know. But the microwave we had to hurl into a metal cage for "Metal waste" - to be squashed down by huge steel teeth and buried. So, no microwave popcorn for now, and I'll have to remember to take the bread out of the freezer in good time - until we find another dodgy old microwave, that is.

The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

I have just watched this warm, fun movie, about a group of retired Brits who decide for various reasons to move to India for their old age - to the "Best Exotic Marigold Hotel". It has some humorous, and poignant, observations about moving to another culture as well as many very funny lines. Also some beautiful, noisy and colourful scenes of Indian street life. From my very brief trip to India in 2007 for CV Mathews' enthronement, I second that India is "an assault on all the senses," that the comment of one character, "All life is here" is true, and also that the hair-raising shot of an overtaking bus honking and swishing across into its own lane just in time is all too authentic - the driving was noisier and more frightening by far than in Uganda.

It is a comedy, and it has some fairly ridiculous incidents and probably a lot of cliches. But, I enjoyed it very much and I totally recommend it. The most obvious observation on moving into a new culture is the truism that, the more you put into a thing, the more you get out of it. The characters who ventured out into the streets and markets and then into the lives and finally homes of Indian friends, were the ones who came to love it the most and made the best new life in India.  Another point made simply but well was that you must, must show respect toward and interest in people; and when you are invited into someone's home and are not sure what is expected, just be considerate, and real. Just as you would with a new friend of your own culture, in fact. A more insightful observation came across more subtly: early on the narrator described the group as "adapting to new ways and new habits like Darwin's finches"; but towards the end of the film she says, "Perhaps we were foolish to think we could adapt at our ages. We are too stuck in our ways." Early on in transition to a new culture, you can think that you are making fantastic progress, you know so much already, and you are adjusting brilliantly to the new life. But as you go along, you find out more and more how deep culture goes, both for you and for those you now live among, and you find out just how much you do not know and will probably will never know or completely understand. The challenge becomes greater and harder the longer you stay. That is my belief. Doesn't mean you shouldn't keep at it, keep learning - but you have to be humble, and very patient about it!

Two very amusing lines: when one of the wives is annoyed with her husband, she says to him: "When I want your opinion I'll give it to you." And the one that appears in the trailer, - "In India we have a saying, everything will be all right in the end. So if everything is not all right, it means it is not the end yet." Good one. I do recommend this film for a fun and feel-good couple of hours set in another bright and sunny country.

One Year On...

It is just over a year since we left Uganda. Can't believe it has been that long already. For me the first half of the year went by soooo slooowly. Everything seemed to be difficult and challenging; it seemed like I was climbing an interminable mountain of tasks and church visits. But in about March, when the church visits were over, we started choosing how to spend weekends, we stopped travelling about, and when life settled into more of a routine, then life quickened and became manageable, work became less scary and more under control, and things suddenly started to rush along. I began to feel as though I was building a new life, making new friends, actually enjoying things. It partly coincided with my embarking on my chocolate cure... And largely was just a matter of time, as relationships and involvements do grow slowly.

So suddenly I find myself struggling to believe we have been here a year.

Looking back on my experiences, I would probably give these tips to anyone starting out on the returnee lark...

Give yourself plenty of time, as in, don't rush into any commitments or job if possible, and allow yourself to have breaks, weekends to yourselves as a family, or with your family or familiar friends, every other weekend at least. It is tiring and you need downtime...
Don't expect to feel at home for ages. Don't feel sad if you don't yet feel at home.
Treat yourself to the things you have been missing... I didn't let myself indulge in either much chocolate or much alcohol until about February. I don't know why really - partly because I was doing the shopping, and I was trying to keep within a very small budget.
Don't pretend you know what is going on, but ask all the questions (eg what was that TV show, what does that word mean, how do I pay for a parking ticket...), - keep asking for help.

That is just a few things.

I asked Abby and Alex what things they are still missing and what things they are enjoying about living here, one year on.

Abby is still missing the campus life, the freedom to roam and play over such a big green open area. And she said she is missing the lovely swimming - the few pools we have gone to here are so crowded in comparison to the Colline or Kingfisher. She is also missing the food that she liked in Uganda, in particular, the sausages there! English sausages are all too spicy or peppery. And the Paramount gouda that the rest of us tired of - no cheese in England is that perfect blandness for her...! But, she loves her school and the friends she has made here, and seeing her grandparents and cousins so much more often.

Alex is also missing the freedom of campus and all the playing outdoors barefoot. He misses his friends on campus. But, he loves the fact that there is so much to do here, as in places to go for day trips and outings, and the sports he is able to do here - hockey club and cricket club. He loves the ease of getting things he wants... (he has just spent all his saved-up pocket money on a stunt scooter - ordered on Amazon and it arrived in two days.)

I am enjoying the countryside and almost daily walking, the constant change of the trees and the appearing of new flowers; still loving the smooth roads, the convenience of life in general (atms everywhere, post offices everywhere, a corner shop to buy milk just a two minute walk away,) the electricity being on all the time, internet working all the time; seeing my family often; variety of diet; being able to drink sherry or a gin and tonic while I am cooking, and anytime (don't worry, I am not drinking very much at all!); being a normal anonymous person everywhere I go. The things I still miss about Uganda, as well as friends, are: the sunshine, the light and warmth in the air; being able to throw on a t-shirt every day without thinking about it; the warmth of daily encounters with Florence, students, colleagues and neighbours; the birds; the beauty.

So it is still a mixture, and it probably always will be. Looking back, it hasn't been an easy year, but, we have been through an unavoidable valley and we are coming into the new land.