goodbye uganda

Tomorrow I leave Uganda. As cliché as it is, time has flow. I was only here for 10 weeks, but 10 weeks in Scotland go by pretty slowly, so I thought 10 weeks here might go by a little slower than they have.  I can’t believe my time has come to an end already. It has been such a positive experience. Everything about it worked out. It was easy and comfortable and I learned what I hoped to learn and I met good people I feel connected to.

Maybe this is because Africa really is a place I feel at home, a place that has cradled so much of who I am and has inspired so many of my dreams. Maybe this is because the more I travel the easier it gets. Maybe this is because I was here long enough to feel comfortable and get to know people, but not long enough to get frustrated with the many things I’m sure would frustrate me over a longer period of time. Maybe this is because I’m working for a great organization with great co-workers and don’t have to struggle with so many of the hurdles that I would have to face if I was working in a different environment. Maybe this is just because the universe knew I needed this. 

I’m so relieved these weeks went as they did. I was afraid the Peace Corps had ruined me so to say—making me a jaded person who was overly critical and bitter about the problems of the world. I think part of that was the Philippines and part of that was Peace Corps. I’ve met several volunteers here and while they aren’t as depressed and worn out as many of the volunteers I served with, they still have their complaints and frustrations and hardships.  So, I am not trying to belittle their experiences or exaggerate mine, but a lot of the stories that were so common within PC Philippines are absent here.  There’s something different about Uganda that makes it a lot easier of a place for me than the Philippines was.

This is not to say that Uganda doesn’t have its problems. It certainly does. In fact, as with every place, there are many problems: widespread corruption, a president who refuses to leave office, unsustainable population growth, malnutrition even though Uganda is a rich and fertile land with excellent agricultural production (many reasons for this), poverty with the average family earning just $400 a year, HIV/AIDS which some say is on the decline while others say is on the rise with increasing prostitution, domestic abuse, the commonality of rape, a lack of natural resources, dwindling water supplies, widespread human rights abuses especially towards anyone who is homosexual, a lack of education and the world’s youngest population, which could be a great asset but it’s currently a problem for the development of Uganda, just to mention a few.

I am not saying Uganda is a Utopia. But, I am saying Uganda has been very good to and for me. I saw people who listened to and respected each other. I saw people loan each other money and food when needed. I saw people in the upper class of Ugandan society take time to say thank you to cleaning staff and the staff providing tea. I listened to people discuss religion and politics and society while doing their everyday tasks. I heard people question the way things are and I heard people disagree and argue about the way things should be. I saw people pet stray dogs and tell me not to fear the stray dogs because dogs are human friends.  I’ve even seen people feed stray dogs. I’ve seen people wrestle with the problems facing their communities, and attempt to put together solutions. I’ve been free to speak my mind and be myself without judgment. I’ve become a friend opposed to just a foreigner temporarily visiting.

I’ve also met some great people who are living and travelling through Uganda.

Some of the people living here who I am very grateful for are:

Everyone who works at the hostel—

1)   Benjamin is the manager/receptionist. Since day one he has helped fill me in on life in Entebbe and has helped me countless times with basic things. We’ve also gotten to talk a bit about Ugandan politics and the future of the country. Always friendly and smiling, and always very patient with me and the many other mzungus.

2)   Kevin is one of the ladies who works at the hostel. I think she’s the person I was closest to. We spent a lot of time doing laundry or just hanging out when there wasn’t much work to do talking about life and our pasts and our goals. She said many foreigners make fun of her name since it’s a “guys” name. Leave it to foreigners to determine what names are right or not for people. She has a large family with many siblings. She is the only “independent” one. Every month she takes part of her earnings and buys sugar, soap and other household goods to send back to her village. She said if she doesn’t buy the items then the money is wasted on alcohol etc. She loves dancing but doesn’t go to clubs. Just dances by herself in her apartment. She also doesn’t want to get married or have kids anytime soon and her favorite movie, which she let me borrow but I couldn’t watch due to no cd drive on my computer, is “Think Like a Man.” She’s strong and determined and hard-working, and very much able to laugh and find joy in everything she does.

3)   Phyllis is another lady who works at the hostel. She usually works in the kitchen. She’s hilarious and has a strong personality/attitude. When people complain she just rolls her eyes. Whenever there is a strange person (her and I usually think the same people are strange) she looks at me, we both roll our eyes, and we both laugh. She loves watching soap operas and dresses with as much attitude as she has.

4)   Brenda is Kevin’s pal. She’s classy and more reserved than the other ladies. She’s got a warmth and softness about her.

5)   Kanan is a guy who works in the hostel. Since I’ve met him he’s been smiling no matter what else is happening in the hostel. He is sweet and nervous. Sometimes I have to switch rooms and without fail when I get home from work he has moved all my stuff for me and organized my room just how he knows I do it. He thinks I should already have a few children, but not too many because people need to stop having 20+ kids (he has 22 siblings). He thinks it’s funny that I’m so good at hand-washing my clothes. I appreciate that he thinks I’m good at hand-washing my clothes (other than my host family many Filipinos told me I had a very strange and not good method of hand-washing). He also tells me I should be fatter because men like fatter ladies. Oh beautiful Uganda.

6)   The guard, whose name I still don’t know, has a love hate relationship with me I’m sure. Every time I ask him to help me he begrudgingly helps me while usually mumbling under his breath. He is the one who helped me at 4:30 am the first night I arrived with nowhere to go. I thought he always hated me cause he always had to stop what he was doing to let me in the gate or help me with the internet (he also is the internet man), but when I came back from Rwanda at 2 am he was at the gate waiting for me and told me they had missed me. He said that he was worried cause he knew my plane was supposed to arrive at 10pm (we were delayed cause the plane was “broken” and couldn’t fly). That’s why I think he secretly loves me even if I’m a hassle.

The guys I work with. I’m not sure they would like being on this blog, so I wont put their descriptions here. But they’re great and have taught me a lot.

Gertrude, who I already wrote about.

The kids who live in one of the areas I pass to get home from work everyday. Very few people can say my name. Most people call me Katrin, but these kids call me Klane…like plane.

Brenda is a teenage girl who works at the Ugandan version of a sari-sari down the street from my hostel.  I met her right after I arrived. She saw me walking and asked if we could be friends. Every time I pass the shop, which is at least once a day, we talk. She wants to be a journalist and she had her first prom this year. She is the oldest of at least 6 kids. She’s very curious and asks a lot of questions. A very good skill for a journalist. Also, her English is better than mine. I hope she’s able to achieve everything she wants.

As far as travellers go, I’ve met my fair share over the last few months. Most I only see or talk to for a night, but there are a few who have stayed longer and I’ve gotten to know better. Then there are also those who I only knew for a night, yet it feels like we knew each other much longer.

Dientje is a woman from the Netherlands, originally from the Caribbean, who was stranded in Entebbe for a few days in the middle of an East African trip. She used to be a VSO volunteer in Tanzania and is absolutely in love with East Africa. She is fluent in Kiswahili (although it isn’t spoken here) and seems completely assimilated into East African culture and society. She lives back in the Netherlands now, but misses East Africa so much that she became a tour guide during her summers, leading safaris throughout the area. She is full of respect and graciousness which she extends to everyone she meets. To her the world and everyone in it is divine and good. She is divine and good.

Helen is a British lady who is living in South Sudan. She spent a few nights here in Entebbe while waiting for her friend to visit and while visiting her boyfriend whose family is here in Entebbe. She is one of the most open-minded and pure people I have ever met. She doesn’t see bad in anyone or anything. She loves dancing and adventure and the spirit of Africa. She has no regard for people who try to tell her what to do and sees everyone equally. One of my favorite stories is she dated a homeless heroin addict—not that I like that he was a heroin addict, but it shows she sees the value and importance of every person and doesn’t pass anyone by. It’s evident that she is loyal to the people in her life and she has an underlying feistiness about her, which made for good stories as she’s a missionary for a pretty conservative sounding organization. 

Sofie and Gyanesh are a couple I met on my Nile rafting trip. They’re great people, both individually and together. Gyanesh is from Nepal and Sofie is from Norway. They met on a biking trip in Japan. The world works in pretty great ways. Gyanesh is already a doctor and Sofie is in med-school doing an internship here at the largest government hospital in Kampala, Mulago Hospital. They were great people for me cause they were laid back and struggled with a lot of things that I did associated with the rafting trip, the place we stayed, and the relationship between the tourism industry and the local communities. Sofie thought about the world in a similar way to me. It was refreshing to have some of the conversations we had about dependency, aid, and development. Both were interested in water issues, which I enjoyed talking about as well. While they were in a group of ten they spent the night after rafting with me and the group of guys I hung out with at the hostel (more on them later) and then when their friends went biking the next day they went into town with me. It was a nice two days with them. It’s always refreshing to be around kindred spirits. One of my favorite things about them though was that they were as amused by the next set of guys as I was.

I spent two nights and three days in Jinja for my rafting trip. The first night I got there I obviously didn’t know anyone. The main room was an open-air room that overlooked the Nile. Absolutely gorgeous, and very cliché-backpackers hostel type of place. Lots of couches and lots of beer and lots of people just hanging out. I sat alone and was soon called over by this group of kayaking guys. They had all just met at the hostel, but for my time there they were always together and they soon adopted me into their group. Let me just say these guys were something. Each of them had very strong personalities and then the way they interacted with each other was thoroughly entertaining. I think I was so amused by these guys cause they reminded me a bit of older versions of my neighborhood growing up.

I shared a room with the two American guys of this group. When I first went in to put my stuff down there was a guy in bed. It was the middle of they day. He said he was very ill. He had a giant bucket beside his bed. This guy, Andy, was sick for the entire three days I was there. He seemed to be a trooper though. He was on a white water kayak trip with his friend, Ted. They had kayaked the Zambezi and then come to kayak the Nile.

Ted’s an energetic guy. Loves kayaking. Seems to love life in general. I guess people who take time to go on kayak, or similar types of, trips typically do enjoy life. Everything excited Ted, but I don’t think he was very aware of a lot of things. For instance one night he was talking about kayaking to a village a ways down the Nile. He met a 19 year old guy there who was telling him about the circumcision ritual that takes place when guys in the village are 18. This blew Ted’s mind. Everything about the ritual and practice. He was so animated in telling the story about this guy and in telling his own thoughts on all of this. He also really wanted to eat food that wasn’t prepared at the hostel. So one night he went out to the street to eat some stew from one of the nearby food stalls. You would have thought this event of getting stew was better than striking gold. Ted made it sound like the greatest event of his life. Ted took everything with stride and seemed open to things and curious, but didn’t hesitate giving his opinion, which was often very loud and very American, on things.

Then there was Pierre. His father’s French, but he grew up and still lives in London. He’s an orthopedic surgeon and was treating Andy. This guy was something. He’s the one who first brought me into this motley crew. Pierre was vulgar and shallow and almost impossibly superficial. He had no care about being culturally sensitive or respectful. He was the ring leader of the group, uniting guides and guys rafting/kayaking the Nile for the first time. I think he was also a really good person though. I think a lot of his image was a front. He told me he wants to retire soon and do something that lets him spend more time in nature skiing and kayaking. He likes politics and international relations and is beyond opinionated when it comes to social issues. Most of the time he would mock various women for being fat or obnoxious or stupid or dull. This included his girlfriend who he referred to as “boring.” But, when the issue of circumcision came up he went on a giant rant about how terrible female genital mutilation is. And when no one was looking he’d be playing with the local kids and petting stray dogs.

There were also a few raft and kayak guides. These guys are everything you imagine raft/kayak guides to be. They were from Canada and the U.S. They loved adrenaline, beer and were tired of drunk girls puking all over the place after the hostel’s famous booze cruises. These guys, along with Ted, Andy, and Pierre loved recounting their most epic rapids. They’d been everywhere in the world rafting and kayaking and working in hostels. Living the life. There was also an Australian guy who wasn’t a kayaker or rafter. Just hanging out. He seemed in awe of everything the kayakers were talking about. He was more reserved and mostly just looked as stunned as I felt by some of the conversations.

My two nights with these guys made me feel at home. I was so entertained by the way they all interacted with each other and the way they all approached their time in Jinja. I felt like I was back in Erie on a summer night for a bit. While many of the things these guys were saying and the way they were talking about various issues was offensive and upsetting, there was something comfortable and inviting about them. I felt like I had known them my entire life and was glad they let me crash their club for a couple nights.

The last set of foreigners I met who were particularly significant to me are two stranger ladies whose names I never learned. We only had one night together in Entebbe, but I think they shared a bit of my soul, or at least they are on similar journeys to the one I’m on right now. I had a mini-life break down unsure of what I’m going to do in L.A. or where I will live or how I will adjust to being back in the states again after being away for so long. And they were great. They had similar breakdowns at the same point. After that we spent a lot of time talking about how lucky we are to have such patient people in our lives who support our wanderings and encourage us to keep doing these things that we do and who are able to calm us down and handle our constant rollercoasters of emotions and new ideas and uncertainties.

The one girl is a PhD student from Davis. She is studying something about agriculture and is specifically looking at bean seed storage in a region of Uganda. Her research is so specific and seemed really complicated to me, someone who knows nothing about bean seed storage. It was impressive though and she was so passionate about bean seeds. She loves Uganda and loves beans and seeds. She spent three years before this in South Africa studying some sort of agriculture. She is going back to the states for a few months then will come back to Uganda for two’ish years for 6 months at a time to finish her research.

The other girl is a PCV who is about to COS and head back to the states. I think every PCV ends up going back to the states significantly stranger than when they left. I also think every PCV changes pretty drastically, so the process of getting back into your old lifestyle is quite the process. You have changed, but you don’t know exactly how. And so many of the people you go home to haven’t changed. They are still doing the same things in the same way with the same friends. They believe the same things they did when you left and still think in the same way.  Meanwhile you’re no longer really American or the nationality of your host country. You’ve adopted this third nationality sort of attitude and persona. So, she was preparing for that transition as well as trying to figure out what she wants to do with her life.

It was the perfect night for me to meet both of them. Just what I needed. People who understood my anxiety and concern, while also sharing the sheer excitement and joy of moving back to the U.S. to be close to people we miss and love.

It’s amazing how people come and go from our lives. Each person leaving their mark on us. I was talking to a friend who has spent the last two years travelling and working odd jobs wherever he finds himself. We were talking about this idea that who we are is really just a series of different people we’ve met throughout our lives. The more people you meet, and the more people you let affect you, the more you simultaneously lose who you are while also building and gaining parts of yourself. When we meet people we shed a lot of the preconceived notions we have of ourselves, and we take bits of with us. We do this by learning from them and trying to carry their stories with us.  It often makes me wonder who I’d be and what I’d be like if I haven’t met all the people I have over the last 25 years. I’m grateful I’ve crossed paths with so many good people who have challenged me to live freely and fully.

People Talking

I’ve now been living in a hostel for a month, and I love it. I think it helps I have my own room to escape to when I need to do work or just need some space, but as a whole I love living in a place with so many people always passing through. I’ve realized I really love people. Not that I ever thought I didn’t like people, but I could sit and listen to people talk all day. So many fascinating stories and perspectives and histories. I love hearing and seeing how people respond differently to the same things. I love hearing and seeing what different things cause people to respond in the same way.  I love hearing and seeing what’s important to one person versus another.

It amazes me how two people can see the same thing, and have such a different vision, interpretation and understanding of what they’re looking at. There are so many examples of this everyday, no matter where in the world you are, but it’s easy to tell here just because so many people have done the same things and gone to the same places. I have done none of these things and gone to none of these places, so I have no idea what they are really like as everyone has different opinions on them. Some people hate the things other people love. Some people love things other people hate. This amazes me, and always makes me wonder how we can form cooperation and understanding on some of the more controversial subjects facing our world.

You also learn a lot about yourself based on who talks to you and what their first impressions of you are—or at least you learn what people think of you. I’ve learned I look like someone who loves beer and pot. I’ve also learned that no one thinks I’m American, and I apparently have a different accent. Even Americans have told me this. I’m going to start counting how often I hear this.  

I’ve also learned some pretty cool things though that I hope are a reflection of who I am, or at least who I will be one day. I seem to attract people who are respectful and understanding and have a deep love for life. People talk to me who are trying to figure out how to tackle the world’s problems, but don’t want to overstep cultural boundaries or force their “western” ways on anyone else. People ask to eat with me who have a love and affinity for the people they meet and the places they travel. I hope that I can remember these people and emulate them throughout my own journeys.

There have been a few people I’ve met at breakfast, then spent all day talking and exploring with to realize we never exchanged names, or if we did, we exchanged them at the end of the night. Sometimes when you click with someone, and you start sharing life stories, and then creating your own stories together, you forget that you don’t know that person’s name. You feel as if you’ve known them your whole life. I like that—I like knowing people from different backgrounds can connect so quickly, yet so genuinely.

Maybe someday I’ll run a hostel and spend all day everyday talking to different people. 

Gertrude

I have an immense amount of respect for Gertrude. She is the proud mother of four, and a gifted artist/craftswoman. She makes baskets, balls, wallets, and purses out of banana leaf fibers. Her designs are exquisite, and unique to anything in the tourist craft shops.

Every night she goes to the hotel next to my hostel to sell her products and then comes here and sits outside the main room showing off her work, hoping for customers. Every night she is in high spirits. Every night we discuss our days, how we’re feeling, and who we suspect might be the buying type. And then Gertrude walks to the people we think might buy from her and she politely taps them on the shoulder and asks them to look at her crafts. She is never pushy and never in anyone’s face, but still people get irritated she is interrupting their conversations or tv watching and sometimes brush her off. Not everyone of course, and I’m sure I’ve been that tired traveller who has no desire to look at any more products for sale plenty of times, but it happens. When it happens Gertrude, with grace and without taking offense, walks to someone else to sell her art. I am always in awe of her as she does this cause I know I would feel defeated after the first rejection or eye roll.

Gertrude makes her living by selling these products, and these products have supported four children through school. Pretty amazing. Gertrude now has two sons working in Dubai and then a son and a daughter still here in Uganda working on their degrees. Her persistence and hard work laid the foundation for these lives. For years this has been her routine, and it has been a routine that has given her children the chance to pursue their educations and their careers. Because of her determination her children will be able to give their children a chance at even better lives.

Knowing her and spending my nights with her, sometimes trying to assist in a sale or two (when someone seems on the verge of buying something I just so happen to walk buy with my purse and thank her again for what a beautiful, durable, bag it is and what a wise purchase it was), will, hopefully, make me more patient with other people who are selling products to tourists.

Everyday Adventures

Living in a hostel leads you to many interesting conversations with people from quite the range of backgrounds.  People who have travelled the world for months or a year at a time, people who have left their families and moved from their villages to wash sheets for a hostel, people who are having their first backpacking experience, people who are on a short-term missions trip, people who are young, people who are old, people who are doing research and studying issues like mountain gorilla preservation or gender based violence, people who are serious, people who talk a lot, people who keep to themselves, people who like to drink, people who are free-spirited, people who are the life of any and every party, people who are cautious, people who act as if they don’t have a care in the world, and so many more. Every night these people gather in the same room or two and digest their days, swapping stories of life, love, loss and adventure.

I read an article a while ago about a French journalist who was kidnapped by the Taliban and kept prisoner for several months. He eventually lost enough weight to slip out of his shackles and escape through a window.  He had one piece of paper and a pen. On the paper he wrote everything that he was looking forward to doing once he was free.

Here is his list:

After This, Ever Day of Your Life is Bonus:

Health               Forget                  Walking               Conversation                 Brothers

Cities                Scuba Dive          Hugs                    Jokes                             Wine

Ukelele             Outside                Bike                     Ski                                 Lay Quiet

Beauty              Sky                      Concerts              Stay                               Shoes

Heat                  Green                  Freedom              Sister                             Company

Music                Happiness           Cuddle                Shower                          No More Chains                                      

Create               Bath                     Rest                    Grandma                        Forgive                            Be Wrong         Swim                  Change                Talk                               Laugh

Passion              Mom and Dad    Wonder               A Good Movie              Live

Run                   Move                  Kiss Someone     Cook Books                  Wake Up

Girls                  Light                  Seaside                 Doors                            A Glass of Water

Home                Electricity           Friends                 Sit Outside                    See the World

Peace                Suffer                  Clothes                Play                               Good Smell

Sex                   Fall                      Family                 Boobs                            Come Back

Food                 Bed                     Joy                       Kids                              Be Stupid

Family              Cars and Trains    Free Hands         Faith?                            Tender

Love                 Be by Yourself    Shave                  Sun                                Tired

Pain                  Debate                 T.V.                     Be Free                         Clean hair

Call                   Knowing             Travel                  Stay Home                    Porn

Windows          Photos                  Rock N’ Roll!     Rich or Poor                 Win and Lose

When I first read this list I was struck by how similar his list was to a list I made while in the Philippines. I spent a lot of time thinking about my goals and the things I wanted to spend my life doing.  When I thought I had figured it out I wrote it down. I am not trying to compare the Peace Corps with Taliban imprisonment. However, I do think it is important for people to slow down a bit and spend time with themselves, and only themselves, in order to reflect on their lives and what is truly important to them. Hopefully it doesn’t take being kidnapped in Pakistan for this to happen.

The point is, simple things like shaving and eating and looking out windows are on his list, but a career, a house, and a great number of material things aren't mentioned. With the exception of porn, boobs, and girls, my list was almost identical to his list. I had lived my whole life thinking my list would be filled with country names (there is another list for this) and job accomplishments and degrees, but in reality, when i got to the core of what I wanted, my list looks a lot like this one.  

During my hostel conversations, and any conversation I’ve had with someone who is, or just returned from, travelling, I’ve noticed that anyone can live an adventurous, exciting life when they relocate themselves to a new environment. This process takes adjustment and learning.  Simple things like getting food or getting from point A to point B become adventures. When you are in these new environments you are aware of every sight, sound, smell and taste--and it's exciting. It keeps you on your toes, alert and curious. But, when we are in a place we are familiar with, a place we have spent years growing and living in, it is difficult for us to find excitement and a sense of adventure and awe.

I want to be able to find fulfillment and adventure regardless of where I am or how long I have been in that place. I want a walk around the block of a neighborhood that I know like the back of my hand to be as meaningful as a Safari trek through a new land. I want to be able to make discoveries in the little things I overlook everyday, like a view from my window, and I want to be in awe of those discoveries.

People wear their travel stories like badges of honor. Nightly recounts of the days happenings are told as if there is a competition to see who is the best traveller—a title that is awarded to the person who has seen or done the craziest thing.  People, including me, always talk about everything we take for granted back in the States. It’s true that we take a lot of things like running water, good food, medical care etc. But, we also take our ability to see the adventure all around us for granted, and this is something no one ever talks about. When we take this for granted we forget how to see the beauty and excitement of the lives we live, and we stop appreciating the small things like music and the sky.

This definitely does not mean that I want to stop travelling. I hope that I am always able to travel because I do think that travelling provides unique experiences and facilitates the formation of strong relationships between people that are sometimes hard to find in other circumstance. I think the best way to learn about the world is through travelling and talking with people along your journey. And, sometimes, we just need to get a change of scenery to regain our perspective. It does not mean I want to stop traveling. But, it means I want to be more conscious of where I am when I am there. I want to find joy in and through all that I’m surrounded by.

Recently, a few people have asked me what I want to be remembered for and what my life goals are.  What I want to achieve, what I think my greatest goal is, and what I hope my greatest goal continues to be, is that I'm present in my life and the lives of the people I care about in a way that brings happiness and encouragement. I want to be able to find fulfillment and adventure in a trip to get ice cream. I want to be able to find significance regardless of where I am, and I don't want to lose track of it—I don't want to take any moment or thing or person for granted. I want to remember that the simple things are the things that matter, and the simple things are the things that sustain life. Those are my goals, and while I’m working to achieve them I remain thoroughly entertained, and sometimes embarrassed, by the nightly travel stories I hear.  

love for my main man

My lovable, dramatic, brave, trusting, strange beyond all measures, intuitive, trooper of a babe died the other day. I, and so many other people, were greatly blessed to share a part of our lives with Todd. I might be biased, but he was one of the best dogs I have ever met. He helped me through a lot over our two years in the Philippines, and brought joy to both the people of Anda, those he met on his journey to the U.S. and all those who loved him in Erie.

At first I wrote an 8 page single-spaced blog about my main man, but figured that might be a bit much. All that to say the little man had quite the adventurous life full of spunk, a love and curiosity for all living things, and lots of holding and ear massages with the occasional episode of shrill screaming at the top of his lungs if he felt like he wasn’t a part of a conversation.

Many people loved Todd deeply, and Todd loved many people. Kids that used to be terrified of dogs grew to love Todd and bought him toys with left over lunch money. When I left the Philippines he got as many remberences as I did. Before coming to the U.S. I told people that he was a special dog, but I'm not sure people really believed me until they met the little guy. He managed to win over just as many, if not more, hearts in the U.S. as he had in the Philippines. He shared a lot of love and joy with the world. 

And now, after a life much longer than I ever expected him to survive (he really had quite a few close calls), he is reunited with his original barkada: Blackie, the other Blackie, Princess and Tim Tim. I imagine they are living in a land of plentiful food, no disease, more stuffed animals and toilet paper rolls than they know what to do with, jungle forests to roam, chickens to chase, couches to sleep on, and lots of holding. And, I have no doubt they are causing havoc in that land while charming all those they encounter.