My first study abroad trip, a day that I never thought I’d see. I had not had the opportunity in undergrad, so when the chance to go to Uganda presented itself, I was all in. Beyond being a great opportunity, this was a chance for me to step foot on “The Mother Land.” The place where my ancestral roots were formed, molded, shaped, and transplanted to the island of Jamaica, whose spirits have carried me on this journey of life thus far. Jamaica, the place where my parents were born, would become the spring board for me to connect with Uganda.
I must say, when thinking about what it would be like to be in Africa, I could not get the memory of the first time I went to Jamaica at the age of 27. Yes, 27, can’t believe it took me that long either. My mother who was born in Jamaica, but grew up in London from the age of 2, and a father who had moved to Brooklyn, NY at age 12. Until the age of 11, I had grown up around a community that was mostly from the islands, in the Flatbush area of Brooklyn. I can recall seeing fruit sold openly at the market, visits with my grandparents and indulging in all the delicacies that Jamaican food had to offer. At this age I was confident in claiming my heritage, but once I transitioned to my formative years I was often reminded that I had never been to Jamaica.
Fast forward to age 27 and I was finally able to make the trip to Jamaica. I can remember being excited and nervous at the same time. During the landing, I can remember gripping my husband’s hand and tearing up the moment the island came in to view. I couldn’t believe I was in Jamaica. We primarily stayed on the resort, but also did a couple to excursions. While horseback riding, I started talking to one of our guides and explained why I had never been to Jamaica. I was quickly put at ease when he said “Welcome home.” All of my reservations about where I fit in this culture were laid to rest.
During this travel to Uganda I was relaxed and had an open mind, with no expectations. My first day here so many childhood memories were being triggered. From time spent with my grandparents in London and my experience in Jamaica. The breakfast sausage at the hotel reminded me of the ones my grandad use to fix me in London. I took a walk to the local grocery story and got giddy like my 8yr old self when I discovered the eclairs candies I use to have growing up. The tea my mother use to make me drink could now be appreciated, so much so, that I’ve even overindulged since being here. All of these memories have served as a bridge in connecting me with my African roots. I find myself easing into the culture of Uganda with each day here. Perhaps this is a way of Uganda telling me “You are home.”
-Portia Buchongo
You were indeed home. Beautiful reflection!