Blogger Knows I'm Home

I'm currently sitting in my favorite coffee shop in rwanda, the atmosphere is warm, and the coffee is hot. As I sign into Blogger the information on the page is in French, even Blogger knows where I am.
We arrived safely to Rwanda, with all 20 pieces of luggage and only a few hiccups. Such include Dad and the Kids being diverted to Canada and having to fly across greenland only making the next flight with minutes to spare. I'm grateful that me and mom missed out on that mayhem. The journey went by rather quickly, until we got on the last flight from Brussels to Kigali. Reality began to sink in that we were just hours from home. I felt myself going into shock. Something that I had wanted so badly for so long was finally happening. Walking off the plane I inhaled deep breaths, letting the smells of Africa infuse into my body. The smells of dust, diesel and a third smell of something sweet that combines the two, possible raw sugar?
The first person I embraced was my second mother, Jane. She had worked for my family in Uganda since I was a baby. She is a strong Godly women I look up to and trust. It felt so good to see her again.
I was so excited to be back in my house, my own bedroom, my own bed. But surprisingly something was not right. Of course almost everything in my room had been packed up. There was a year's worth of dust on the objects I treasured daily. But it was not for a sentimental reason that I could not sleep, I knew I could get my room back to shape. It was my mattress. There was a big dent in the middle, when I had always slept on the right side. My bed had formed to another.
The next day my dad suggested I flip the mattress. So I pulled the sheets off, and to my surprise or maybe I half expected it. The mattress was not mine. I know my mattress, the cover is a magenta stripe, with bright flowers. In Uganda when I was nine years old my mother agreed to buy me a big girl, full (double) bed. I felt so proud picking it out. I grew up on that mattress. When I was eleven I decided to get baptized as I read my bible on that mattress. I talked at slumber parties with my best friends on that mattress. I have been sick on that mattress. I have cried on that mattress. I have laughed on that mattress.
I knew that this purple green mattress that now sat on my bed was not mine. I asked Toepesta, (our cook) and it turned out she had borrowed it while we were gone and forgot to return it. I was so relieved it had not been thrown away while we were gone.
So I carried my mattress back to my room, and made my bed. Last night I slept sound and snug. Now I am home.