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I miss Uganda when I brush my teeth with normal water, don't eat rice and potatoes at every meal, don't have red dirt all over my feet, find toilet paper in the bathrooms, and eat junk food. My clothes don't smell like Africa. I eat at American times. I'm not doing doing the gangsta fist bump with Abdul or counting with Junior. I miss them. I don't want them to forget me as much as I don't want to forget them. I wish when I wash my face and body red dirt would get all over the towels. I wish I brought more home with me. I was learning to be comfortable there and loving the discomfort. I loved worshiping with them. They lyrics took on a whole new meaning when I looked at them from an African point of view. I felt like they really understood what they were singing and praising God for. I miss the genuine-ness of their faith. It's a lot harder to bring that back because it's not cultural here in the USA. I miss the Ugandan handshake. I miss the boys so much. I don't miss the lack of napkins and eating with fingers, but with time I would have adjusted to that, too.