First Home


We were at the bar at a Japanese restaurant in Nairobi, half-listening to the live Kenyan band, pausing between shots of vodka and glasses of wine, when my friend D asked me how long I had lived in Mexico City. Almost two years, I responded. Wow, he said, clearly surprised. “So Mexico is your first home.”

“My first home?”
“The first place you lived as an adult.”
“No, that would be Kampala,” I said.
“How long were you there?”
“Two years.”

“And when you were there you worked, made money, paid bills, had sex, made friends, had an apartment, did all those things?

“OK, yes, that was your first home,” he said, satisfied.

Photo via Ugandan Insomniac

Comments 2

  1. Gentemal May 24, 2010

    There is no direct flight from Alabama to Uganda, and Alexis’ first home would fittingly be somewhere in the motherland. I may have to visit Kampala very soon myself. My first home was Buenos Aires, but it could have just as easily been Mexico City or Santa Cruz or New York or Atlanta. Depending on how you define everything. I like to think of my first home as my suitcase, really. Here’s to a DF reunion in DC.

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