Kampala, Uganda

I, as so many fellow bloggers do, have embedded a website tracking and counter system to intrigue me with (mostly) useless information. The data serve a purpose, though. They fuel my ego and satisfy my narcissistic needs. Hey, I’m human. I love to be loved...if only in fantasy, only in cyberspace...and only by a relative few.

Still, every now and then, I’ll spy something unusual. Something that makes me smile and, even better yet, ponder.

There was the individual who stumbled upon my blog late one night and, literally, read EVERY entry until the sun rose in the morning. And never returned.

And then there is the sojourner from Kampala. (S)he stopped by one day and stayed to read an entry or two or three. And dropped in again, and then again and again, to read systematically each entry, month by month, year by year, never commenting, never making his/her presence felt...(although felt it was).

Kampala, Uganda. Truth be told, Sitemeter isn’t all that accurate.
I can’t know if this visitor, this wayfaring stranger, even resides in Kampala. The locale may just be some digital way station somewhere along the electron highway. No matter. Kampala is the name I see;
in a country named Uganda on the continent we call Africa.

I’ve never been there. Neither the city, the country nor the continent. I feel embarrassed.

I’ve criss-crossed North America. I’ve traipsed through parts of Europe. It’s not that I haven’t travelled, I have. But not enough.
Not nearly enough.

And here’s this soul in Kampala.
A human being who has read my words and found a few that resonate (I presume). I want to meet this individual. I want to see, with my own eyes, what my fellow human beings see on different continents, in different time zones, where seasons are the opposite of mine, where Life manifests itself in ways I cannot fathom and, yet, despite that, where the human soul remains incredibly the same.

I want to see Kampala. Uganda. Africa. South America. Asia. Australia. I want to see EVERYTHING there is to see. Feel all there is to feel. Taste it all. Take pleasure in, and suffer along with, it all.

I’m just greedy that way.

And so, my nameless, faceless, unknowable Kampala friend, I thank you. I thank you for reminding me that there is so much to see, so many people to meet...so many experiences to experience.

I must get going. Ars longa vita brevis and all that...and toss in a bit o’ Carpe diem!

I must get going.

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