No Mirror On Lingira

I was in Uganda, on a small island called Lingira, and there were no mirrors. A strange detail, now that I think about it, but I went for days without seeing myself. The first day, the habit of checking my hair or studying the circles under my eyes nagged at me, but I soon forgot that mirrors had ever been a part of my life to begin with. In fact, I quickly forgot that there was any difference between myself and the people around me- I forgot that I was white, and American. I felt African, because I made Africa my world and Africans my people. I didn’t even realize that I was thinking this way until I finally did look in a mirror and almost scared myself! Here was this white woman looking back at me, and it was the same person I’d always been, the same face I’d always had.

I suddenly felt a little sad that there would always be this difference between me and my African brothers and sisters. You can say that love is color blind, but no matter what, I knew I’d never truly fit in in the country I’d fallen in love with. There will always be this reminder that I am an outsider. Even if I spend forty years there, I won’t be able to change my skin. But for a few days I forgot that. For a few days I wasn’t white, wasn’t black, I was just a person. Sometimes I think we spend so much time staring into our own faces, scrutinizing every detail, obssessing over how others see it, and we forget to just be human.

I’m not entirely sure where I was going with this... Maybe I’m just rambling. Moral of the story, I guess, take a break from yourself. Go be with people, forget what others see. Just be together with someone. Invite them into your world, and become a part of theirs. Forget the differences between you. Love people who are nothing like you, who’s lives and stories and opinions and cultures and languages and ages are different from yours.

Life is too short- you have to decide how you’re going to live it.

I, for one, don’t want to spend it all looking in the mirror.