My Town
My Town town stories
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thislittlelight
thislittlelight even a tiny flame can defeat the dark
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The unique "place" where I grew up.

My Town

Welcome to my town, where I grew up.

It's an odd place,

It's an odd place, smaller than the space around the family table,

It's an odd place, smaller than the space around the family table, large enough to cover territory on two continents

It's an odd place, smaller than the space around the family table, large enough to cover territory on two continents, and the airplane rides in between.

My town is on the border of East Africa and the USA,

My town is on the border of East Africa and the USA, at the point where the Nile flows into Lake Erie,

My town is on the border of East Africa and the USA, at the point where the Nile flows into Lake Erie, an hour from the intersection between Kampala and Cleveland.

It's hard to learn your way around.

My town has two worlds blended like a smoothie.

My town has two worlds blended like a smoothie. You can tell it's got banana, strawberries, yogurt, ice,

My town has two worlds blended like a smoothie. You can tell it's got banana, strawberries, yogurt, ice, but you can't take it apart and put the ice and the fruit and the yogurt back where they belong.

And you can't put me back where I belong.

My town has two worlds wrapped up together

My town has two worlds wrapped up together like matooke in banana leaves, cooked over a charcoal fire.

My town has two worlds wrapped up together like matooke in banana leaves, cooked over a charcoal fire. You can take the matooke off the charcoal fire,

My town has two worlds wrapped up together like matooke in banana leaves, cooked over a charcoal fire. You can take the matooke off the charcoal fire, but you can't take the charcoal flavor out of the matooke.

And you can't take my town out of me.

My town is larger than the globe and small enough to fit in my hand.

My town is larger than the globe and small enough to fit in my hand. It's always with me, but I can never go back to visit.

My town has many names:

My town has many names: It's the "Two Worlds Town" or the "Third Culture Country"

My town has many names: It's the "Two Worlds Town" or the "Third Culture Country" It's the town of "Living Everywhere" and "Belonging Nowhere"

My town has many names: It's the "Two Worlds Town" or the "Third Culture Country" It's the town of "Living Everywhere" and "Belonging Nowhere" The "Closest Thing to Belonging" but "A Thousand Miles from Home"

It's an odd place, my town.

It's an odd place, my town. But I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Thanks for reading! I grew up mostly in Uganda but also in the United States. This poem explores what it's like to not have a "hometown," to not have any one place that speaks to my identity. The places I've lived are all part of me, and in a sense I belong everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Can anyone relate?

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