The most inimitable place to be other than in my boyfriend’s arms is my grandparents’ home in Mutundwe, a small village in Uganda. The rolling hills, the clean crisp air, and the spaciousness all surpass the city life of noise, polluted air and big crowds that I never seemed to miss while I was in Mutundwe. The fun and joy that I experienced, while I was at my grandparents’ home, bring lasting memories. Mutundwe will always have a special place in my heart.
Papi and Mami’s house, situated in the country side has a big farm as the back yard. Cows were always mooing, chicken clucking, goats bleating near rows of corn and banana plantations that made up the fence on the left side of the house. At times without a cloud in the sky, the golden rays would shine and radiate perfect warmth. The gentle breeze made the temperature comfortable. By the time I woke up every morning, the early morning dew had already dried on the grass, making it look freshly cut and greener than ever.
My grandparents’ neighborhood was a serene place, so quiet that you could hear the birds chirping, the frogs ribbetting in the ditches, and the squirrels squeaking. It was not uncommon to see a monkey searching for food in our front yard or drinking from the bird bath. Huge oak trees swayed from side to side and the leaves would fall on the ground, the wind then blowing them swiftly into ditches.
Every day in Mutundwe I would play hide and seek with my friends from the neighborhood. From the moment we returned home from school and put down our Hello Kitty and Superman backpacks, until the pinkish, yellow sun was setting, my friends and I would start a new adventure. As we ran around making up games to play, my black and brown German shepherd, Buddy, would gallop around us eagerly, his wet tongue hanging out of his parched mouth, and his tail wagging like a hammer in an ongoing alarm clock. Unlike the...