neither here nor there

The sky is clear blue, but it's not quite enough for me. It's only December, and I'm already craving warmth. I am making do with blankets and turtlenecks (turtlenecks = my new favorite thing), but what I really want is hot sun shining on my face. I have been procrastinating going out into the wind all day long. I have errands to run, but they don't seem to be getting done.

Someone asked me which country I would most like to visit again. Rwanda, I said. Definitely Rwanda. It has been over three years since I last stood among those green hills, and I miss it. If I had money, I would long ago have purchased my house in Kibuye from its absent owner (he was somewhere in India, allegedly...), and I would go there for vacations, to sit on the stone patio and sip milky tea spiced with ginger and tea masala. Maybe I would go there this Christmas. 

Five years ago, I spent Christmas in Rwanda. I had moved to the country two months before, and I knew no one because I had spent most of my time since arrival traveling. I had just gotten back from meetings in Uganda, and I drove from Kigali to Kibuye on Christmas Day. I took greenery from the pine trees around my house and I made a little Advent wreath with the greenery and five candles. I called my family as I opened the presents they had sent with me. I have never been so alone at Christmas, but there was something beautiful about it, too. I didn't feel as sad as I expected to feel. I was quite content, actually, in my little house all alone. 

I was thinking earlier about all the places I've been, and how each of them owns a little piece of me. I wonder if it would be easier, this life, if there was only one place where I belonged, if only one place owned me. I envy people who just belong, and they know it. But I know that I would not give up the places I've been, not one of them, and maybe I own a little piece of them, too.

I made tea with milk and ginger this morning, and looked out my window at the blue sky.