"Welcome Back, Welcome Back, Welcome BAAAAACCCKKK......"

First, I should apologize for the blurriness of this photo. It's just that whenever you're in any kind of government-regulated facility on the African continent, where stony-faced young men shouldering AK-47's stand as silent sentinels ready to waste your ass at a moment's notice, snapping pictures can be a life or death decision.

But I couldn't resist capturing this image at Entebbe Airport, just after arriving this evening for a 3-day journalism training workshop in Kampala. You know, I've always believed that nothing says "Welcome Back!" like medical personnel wearing face masks, as if they were characters in a trashy movie entitled "Baggage Claim of the Zombie Lepers," beckoning you off to the side when you've reached your "final destination." And before you ask, I have been following the Swine Flu (oops......sorry..... "H1N1") news, so I knew why we were being greeted like third class passengers from the Ebola Express.


But a coupla things sprang to mind while standing in this scrum. First, no matter where you go in the world these days, YOU ARE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE. You either can't afford to fly anywhere, or you have to worry about your plane breaking apart in mid-air, or if you do land safely, there's a good chance a pandemic virus is waiting for you. Absolutely nothing in this life is simple anymore.


Second, about halfway across Lake Victoria headed from Nairobi, I got hit with a powerful rush of memories...all incredibly sad. I've mentioned before that for the rest of my life, coming to Uganda for any reason will likely always be connected with my sister Julie's passing. That's where I was when I had to accept that she was really gonna die this time, and where I had to come afterwards to try and resume some semblance of normality. To date, it was the most difficult period of my life, and so the closer the plane got to landing this evening, the more I was gutted by painful flashbacks.


So it almost made sense that the damned Angel of Death was trying to fuck with my head once I got off the plane. Not standing there with a sickle and a black robe, but wearing a crisp white nurse's uniform and a face mask to remind me that all it really takes is one little cough or handshake and your ass is grass.


I had to wonder if this was yet one more sign from up above that Uganda and me just do NOT agree.


But then I got to the good old Speke Hotel in Kampala, where I'd spent many an evening swilling "sweet" red wine (versus the other choice..."not sweet"), and snarfing down pretty decent pizza and pasta and gelato whenever we were on a brief furlough from hard time in Gulu. And the funny thing is, everybody there remembered me from two years ago, and treated me like a flippin' ROCK STAR! It almost got to feeling slightly creepy; people I was certain I'd never seen before in my life were being outrageously gracious. And my favorite bellman in the entire world, a little Luo guy named Jonah with the widest, friendliest gap in his front teeth I've ever seen, came up and literally hugged my neck. Instead of being slightly skeeved out, I hugged him right back, I was so happy to see him!


So, I may need to reassess this whole Uganda-phobia. Sure, I've only been here 4 hours, so check with me tomorrow. If somebody brings me "not sweet" red wine, I might just blow a gasket.