Number One: Chances of Meeting Famous People

I know the anticipation was killing you, and chances of meeting famous people may not be what you were expecting as the number one difference between the US and Rwanda, but I have to keep things interesting or I might lose my 18 followers.

Some of the most common conversations I have with Rwandan students are about famous people.  They want to know if I know Chris Brown or T-Payne or Barack Obama.  I tell them I know who they are, but I’ve never met them.  They seem to think that if they were in the US, they would be BFFs with the Pres. They would just walk right up to the White House, knock on the door, and have tea with Barry and the first family.  I try to relate this situation to Rwanda to help them understand.  None of them would ever get close enough to Kagame’s compound to even so much as get a glimpse of his house, much less sit down and have tea with him and his boys.  I try to inform the kids that they probably have a better chance of meeting famous Americans in Rwanda than they would if they traveled to the US.

I have found this to be quite true, myself.  The closest I have ever been to meeting a famous person in the US was being a receptionist at Camp Ridgecrest where Bobby Bowden’s grandson and Doc Watson’s son attended camp for a week (or less than a week in the Watson kid’s case.)  That or being babysat by Arnold Palmer’s grandchildren’s babysitter once as a kid.  However, in my short time in Rwanda I have had the opportunity to meet a few famous people.

Last summer I lived in the same house as the Von Trapp children for a week in Rwanda.

I also met Jack Hanna when he came to Sonrise for a visit.

And just last month I spent a week with Kris Allen, the most recent American Idol. 

I apologize for being the world’s worst photographer in both quantity and quality, but if you need proof that I hung out with Kris Allen, look very closely for me in the following YouTube videos:

 Kris Allen - TOMS Shoes/Bridge2Rwanda - Send Me All Your Angels

Rwanda Shoe Drop

Kris Allen - Ring of Fire

Celebrities are just people like you and me, and I've been very impressed to find that each and every famous person I meet is extremely down to earth and a joy to be around.  

Number Two: Concept of Time

There may be nothing more striking in the entire world than the difference in the American concept of time and the Rwandan concept of time.  Okay, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but believe you me, the difference is HUGE.

America rushes.  Don’t believe me?  Ask the traffic police who issues speeding tickets or the barista at the Starbucks drive-thru window.  We get angry at the person in the minivan who pulls out in front of us because, heaven forbid, we are now going to be 10 seconds later meeting our friends at the fast-food restaurant. 

I understand that feeling.  I have always been very punctual.  I think I inherited the trait from my mother.  I am almost always early, sometimes on time, and almost never late.

I’ve had to throw all of that out the window since I moved to Africa.  Exams that are supposed to start at 7:30, may or may not get going around 8:15.  Meetings at 10:00am may or may not happen for three or four days.  Football games that start at 3:30pm SHARP may or may not start around 5.  But you know, life goes on.  The waiting teaches me patience and gives me a chance to read a book or have a conversation I otherwise wouldn’t have had.

Okay, I admit, sometimes I don’t want to wait ten minutes to get a menu and then ten more to get my drink and then ten more to take my order and then forty-five to get my food and then ten to get my bill and then fifteen more to get my change.  But sometimes I don’t so much mind sitting back and relaxing and not feeling any sense of urgency.  

Number Three: Greetings

Picture yourself walking down the frozen foods aisle at Wal-Mart; here comes John Doe.  John went to your high school, and you were once in the same cabin on a retreat to some camp somewhere, but you’re by no means BFFs.  What do you do?  Do you awkwardly wave as he walks by?  Do you stop and awkwardly start peering into the ice cream freezer (even though you’re on this aisle to buy frozen French fries) so as to avoid the awkward encounter?  Do you stop and say “Hello!” and nothing more?  Any of these three decisions would fly in the US, but NOT in Rwanda.

Now, picture yourself walking down a street full of pedestrians going about their business.  On the other side of the street you see John Doe.  What do you do?  Well, if you are in Rwanda, you had better stop and greet him!  A simple “Amakuru!” across the street may suffice, but really you should cross the street and greet John Doe (or Jean Bosco or John Isaac or Jean Pierre or Jean Baptiste or Jean de Dieu) properly.  A formal Rwandan greeting consists of a hug, a kiss to the left of the face, then to the right, then to the left again, and finally a handshake.  I suppose you could just give this man a hug and a handshake.  Or at the very least a respectful handshake (where you grasp your right elbow with your left hand while shaking his hand).  Then ask him how his news is and how his family is.  Okay, now, you can go back about your business.

Greetings are very important in Rwandan culture.  I am greeted with hugs, handshakes, and kisses every time I go anywhere.  While it seems like quite the hassle to greet all 20 people when you arrive at a party in such a lengthy manner, it’s quite nice to be acknowledged by others.  I think deep down inside of all of us is a desire to be recognized.  Now put yourself in John Doe’s shoes.  Wouldn’t it feel nice to be greeted in the frozen food aisle; to know that you made at least a small impression on someone; to feel special because that quasi-stranger from high school remembered your name?  Now, how about perfect strangers?  Granted, someone might think you are quite strange for giving him or her the time of day, if only because it is counter-cultural.  But, don’t you think it might make some people’s days if they were merely acknowledged?  If you recognize someone today, I challenge you to acknowledge him.  Go ahead, make his day!

Number Four: Bodily Figure

Let’s face it.  Americans are fat.  Potentially because of things like the new KFC Double Down that I read about on the Internet.  And because they spend half their lives sitting in a car to drive somewhere to sit some more.  There’s just no time to exercise, and food that makes you fat just tastes so good.

Fat Rwandans are few and far between.  It has something to do with the amount of exercise they get just by living their lives.  And that food merely provides sustenance; eating is not a cure for boredom or stress. 

(Side note:  The amount of money Americans spend on weight loss programs every year could feed all of the hungry people in the world three times over.)

The most effective workout I’ve witnessed so far in my life is fishing for a living on a lake in Africa.  Rwandan fishermen are ripped, jacked, and swole.  Forget CrossFit.  Forget P90X.  Come haul in some fishing nets with this guy, and you’ll be looking good in no time, that is, if you can handle the workout.  Rwandans are tough!

In an effort to be more Rwandan and less American in my bodily figure, I opt to go for a run most mornings.  It blows the minds of the Rwandan people.  Our guard thinks I’m crazy as he opens the gate for me early every morning.  Why would you tack on additional exercise to your daily routine, when supposedly the daily routine is filled with exercise?  But alas, my daily routine lacks movement, so I tack it on like the American that I am.

Number Five: Transportation

How do you get where you’re going?  Chances are, if it’s farther than your next door neighbor’s house, you use something other than your two feet.  Some of you may choose a bike if your destination is just a few miles away, but I would venture to say that most of you travel by car most of the time.  Most Rwandans will never enter a motor vehicle, and the ones who do will be riding in a shared taxi or possibly a bus (which can be a rather terrifying or at least uncomfortable experience, speaking from experience).  Here in Rwanda, our organization has (eek!) 3 cars, and we utilize them a great deal, but I personally prefer the 3 most common modes of transportation of the locals:  walking, biking, and moto-taxiing. 

Walking is clearly the most common method for getting from place to place around here.  There is a very special village about a 40 minute drive from our house.  Some of the most precious children in the world live there, and they have been known to walk from their village to our house just to visit.  They literally walk for hours just to spend an hour or two with the Muzungus at their house.  Many people walk from their fields to the market every day to sell their goods.  Others have to walk miles just to get water to use for cooking, drinking, and washing.  I typically walk to school early on Monday mornings and soak in this amazing African experience.

Bicycles outnumber cars in Rwanda, for sure.  There are a few different kinds of bikes.  Some bikes, like the sweet gold cruiser of our day guard, are used merely for transportation of one person to get where he is going (yes, he.  I have never seen a Rwandan woman pedaling on a bike.).  Other bikes, like the sweet cargo bikes designed and distributed by our friends at Project Rwanda are used to transport goods rather than people.  The loads people can carry on their bikes are far more impressive than the loads they can carry on their heads.  Sometimes the bikes are so loaded down they cannot be ridden but are pushed by multiple people up and down the many hills to their intended destinations.  The third kind of bike is a bicycle-taxi.  This is like a cargo bike but with a nice padded seat over the back wheel.  Many women sit side-saddle on the back of a bicycle taxi, but I don’t trust myself unless I straddle the seat and hold on tightly! 

The most exciting means of transportation is via moto-taxi.  When I am running late on Monday mornings, sometimes I hop on the back of a motorcycle, pay 300RWF (60 cents) and arrive at Sonrise in 5 minutes (instead of the 35 it takes to walk).  Rwanda is a very well-regulated land, and this is evident in their moto-taxi laws.  All moto-taxis must be registered and wear a designated vest.  It is also law for both the driver and the passenger to wear helmets.  Who knows what diseases I may be contracting from those helmets, but at least I know I won’t crack my head open if I were to fall off the back of a moto!

Please note the huge smile on the moto-taxi driver's face.

Number Six: Carrying Things

I’ve shared about this phenomenon before (“Way to Use Your Head!”), but it is definitely one of the most noticeable differences between Rwanda and the US.  Nothing is too big, too small, or too oddly shaped to carry on one’s head.  Some of the most common head loads include golf umbrellas (though there’s no golf here, so I guess they’re just umbrellas), baskets full of produce, sacks of charcoal or potatoes, sheet metal, jerry cans full of water, and large bundles of branches.  Some of the more interesting things I have witnessed atop a head are a wallet, a backpack, and a table.  Anything goes, really.  Why use your hands when you can use your head leaving your hands free for greeting your acquaintances or for carrying an additional basket or for holding the hand of a small child (provided the child is too big to be tied onto your back with a towel).

It is absolutely astonishing to see some of the loads these people bear, both literally and figuratively.  They possess great strength and poise.  It only makes sense to carry things on your head so as to remain as balanced as possible.  After all, life is a balancing act, and if there is anyone understands this concept, it is the Rwandan people.

Number Seven: Telecommunications

As I’m sure you can imagine, Rwanda is much different in this arena than the US, the land of iPhones, Androids, and family share plans.  Interestingly enough, practically everyone has a cell phone, even in the most remote villages.  These phones work on pre-paid airtime.  You buy airtime on a card from a man in a yellow vest on a street corner.  It costs airtime, and thus money, to make calls but not to receive them.  Because of this, there is an interesting phenomenon called “flashing” or “beeping.”  Rwandans realize that we Muzungus can afford airtime and so they call and hang up immediately expecting us to call them back.  They sometimes “flash” you 4 or 5 or 18 times.  Often when you call them back the conversation goes something like this:

Me:  “Hello, [insert name here]!  How are you?

Rwandan:  “I am fine, thank you.  How are you?”

Me:  “Very fine, thank you.”

Rwandan:  “How is your news?”

Me:  “My news is fine.  What is new with you?”

Rwandan:  “Nothing is new.”

Me:  “Okay, good to hear from you!  I will talk to you later.”

Rwandan:  “Greet [insert name here] for me, please.”

Me:  “Okay, I will.  Goodbye!”

Rwandan:  “Goodbye.”

Phone calls merely to greet are very common (“Hello Kelly!  I call you greet you!  Okay, goodbye!”).  It is a beautiful picture of the community we were created to be a part of.  So often in the US, we get so stuck in our routine or caught up with our busy schedules that we rarely think to stop and check in with our loved ones.  In Rwanda, if word spreads that you are sick, you will receive multiple calls just checking on you.  Not “flashes” or “beeps” but true, money-costing calls because you are that important to your friends here.  While the repetitive nature of said conversation can sometimes feel like a nuisance, I will always appreciate the genuine concern of my Rwandan friends.

Oh, and I almost forgot.  Rwandan cell phones have built-in flashlights and three awesome games to choose from when you’re riding the bus or waiting for your food at a restaurant.  Doesn’t get much cooler than that.  

Pardon the Interruption AKA Gorilla Trekking

Pardon the brief interruption, but I feel obligated to share with you today's adventure.  Griffin's father and his best friend are in town this week, and they and Griffin were planning to go gorilla trekking today.  Unfortunately, Griffin's father is a bit sick and didn't really feel up to hiking up the mountains, so he graciously donated his gorilla permit to Kat, who, since she'll be trekking them with her parents in a few weeks, graciously donated her gorilla permit to me.  What a blessing!  I never would have gone had I not gotten a permit for free ninety-nine.  Here are a few photos from the experience:

The biggest gorilla in the whole...wide...world.

Tell me how you really feel, gorilla girl.

Don't worry.  We were quite safe.

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming...

Number Eight: Variety and Lack Thereof

Drive down the main drag of any decent sized town in the US, and you have the choice of eating at McDonald’s or Subway or the local BBQ joint or Pizza Inn or Applebee’s or P.F. Chang’s or Zaxby’s or Moe’s or Sticky Fingers or Tuesday’s, Wednesday’s, Thursday’s, or Friday’s.  You want cheap Mexican?  Vamos a Monterrey’s.  You want Italian? Andiamo Capri’s! You want Chicken Fried Rice (no wegeble)? 我们走吧 Hong Kong!  With an indecisive group?  Go to the food court at the mall; there’s something for everyone!

Rwanda lacks this variety.  Do you want a brochette?  Goat, beef, chicken, or fish?  No?  How about a ham sandwich? No?  Spaghetti?  No?  Too bad.  Granted, you can get a side of boiled potatoes or mashed potatoes or French fries or rice with that brochette, but let’s be serious…Where are the sweet potato fries, green beans, baked beans, applesauce, hush puppies, etc? 

As a child, I cycled through peanut butter crackers, peanut butter celery, boiled eggs, and cheese and crackers as the main course of my lunch in my lunchbox everyday (thanks Mom!).  Most people wouldn't consider four lunch options much of a variety, but here I eat beans and rice everyday for lunch.  Though we do get meat and passion fruit juice on Fridays!

So next time you sit down to eat your Zax Snack or your Funkmeister, count your blessings (and think of me!).

Number Nine: Weather

Where I grew up, the weather was relatively unpredictable.  It could be 70 degrees in January and then snow a foot on March 1^st.  There were definite seasons, though.  Hot, humid summers.  Cool, crisp autumns.  Cold, but not so snowy winters.  And beautiful, warm springs.  I had been as hot as I’d ever been and as cold as I’d ever been cheering for the Tigers in Death Valley in the very same short football season.  The length of winter depended on a groundhog named Puxatony Phil.  April showers brought May flowers.

Rwanda is a bit different.  Here in Musanze, the weather is to die for.  While we are very close to the equator, we are also at a fairly high elevation, and thus it is about 80 degrees every day and 55 degrees every night.  Rainy season is upon us, so we get a rain shower or two every day.  Sometimes it rains so hard that you can’t hear yourself talk, but it usually only lasts a few minutes.  My favorite is when the rain starts just as I’m drifting off to sleep at night.  And it sure is hard to get out of the bed when the shower is happening at 7am.  It has occasionally kept me from going on runs, but all in all, I appreciate the rain showers and love the weather in Rwanda. Plus, rain brings about beautiful rainbows reminding us of God’s promises.  

My favorite thing about Rwandan weather, however, is the fact that I can wear my Chacos literally everyday!

Number Ten: Shopping

There are several key differences between Rwandan and American shopping. 

As you all know, America has fixed prices that are generally clearly labeled and sometimes things go on sale for a lower price than is marked.  America has barcodes and scanners.  America has paper or plastic (bags and payment methods). 

At the market in Rwanda, no prices are marked, and you have to bargain for your fresh fruits and vegetables.  We know the market prices and refuse to pay the Muzungu prices we are often given.  We know that a kilo of potatoes is 100RWF (20 cents); a bunch of the sweetest little bananas in the world is 250RWF (50 cents); a kilo of tomatoes is 300RWF (60 cents).  And don’t expect to be able to pay for those bananas with a 2000RWF bill.  Change is VERY hard to come by.

In the supermarkets, you find some prices marked, but many times you ask the cashier (or anyone else who happens to be shopping) for prices.  When you check out, he or she will punch in the numbers on a calculator and show you the final price.  They will bag up everything in brown paper bags—a little bigger than a lunch bag and a tad smaller than a paper grocery bag—because President Kagame has outlawed plastic bags in Rwanda.  Rwanda is way more green than the US could ever hope to be, out of necessity.  (No point in drilling kids with reduce, reuse, recycle around these parts; the three R’s are second nature here!)

In Rwanda, there is no such thing as price fluctuation.  You want a fresh pineapple from the market?  200 RWF (40 cents).  You want to fly to Johannesburg next month? $711.  Want to fly there tomorrow?  $711.  First class? $711.  How about a jar of peanut butter from the supermarket?  3000 RWF ($6).  Today, tomorrow, and always.

Shopping is a leisure activity in the States but is basically only done out necessity in Rwanda.  If you need something, you go buy it.  If you don’t need it, why would you buy it?

Top Ten Differences between the US and Rwanda

Over the course of the next couple of weeks I am going to share with you what I feel are the top ten differences between the US and Rwanda.  Typically I share with you the more exciting events of my Rwandan life or at least things that don't quite fall into the routine, but I really want you all to understand day-to-day life in Rwanda.  The differences between the US and Rwanda are profound and can clearly not be fully portrayed in ten blog posts, but hopefully this will give you a better idea of what I'm experiencing regularly as I live and work in Africa.

Keep in mind my philosophy that just because something is different does not necessarily mean it is bad or wrong.  Sometimes things are just different.  Both countries hold a very special place in my heart for their own reasons, and I hope you can see both the things that I love and the things that frustrate me with both of my countries.  

Keep your eyes peeled for Number Ten!

Uganda

 School let out last Friday for two weeks so we decided to do a little traveling.  We hung around Musanze for a few days then left Thursday for Kigali, woke up REALLY early Friday morning to board a bus, and headed off to Kampala.  Right as we crossed the Ugandan border, we saw my friends at my butchery.

After a 10 hour bus ride, we arrived in Kampala, Uganda at about 3pm local time.  We meet a Swiss guy as we got off the bus who told us about a sweet hostel, and the 7 of us headed to Red Chilli Hideaway.

I took advantage of the sweet location and awesome food and stayed in and relaxed for the evening while everyone else went out on the town.  Saturday morning we hopped in a taxi and rode to Entebbe to hop on a ferry to ride to Ssese island.  On the boat we met two very interesting people:  the captain and the marketing manager of a resort on the island.  We got to ride partway to the island upstairs with the captain and his crew.  The marketing manager cut us a deal on his resort, and we had a great 2 nights there.  We spent most of Sunday down by the water reading and resting…

And watching the pigs…

And the monkeys…

And the ostrich…

(Note that Kat is cowering in fear.)

We watched Liar Liar and Oprah on TV…in the middle of Africa.  We had our own personal housegirl who served us breakfast, lunch, afternoon tea, and dinner.  We were very well taken care of!

There was a spectacular sunset over Lake Victoria that night.

We woke up early again Monday morning to catch the ferry back to Entebbe.  We rode in a taxi back to Red Chilli and rested.  We went to a Thai restaurant for dinner and had AMAZING spring rolls, pad Thai, and mango sticky rice.  That’s not something you see everyday (or any day) in Rwanda!  It was quite a treat as our last meal in Uganda.

We woke up the next morning and hopped in a taxi for the bus station.  We barely made it in time!  The Jaguar bus was not nearly as comfortable as the Kampala Coach bus we took to Uganda, so we were quite excited to arrive in Kigali to get off the bus and bathe and finally relax at home.  After a few errands in Kigali this morning, Peyton and I headed back to Musanze, our real home.  I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight, but I’m even more so looking forward to going back to school on Monday!

Mbanda's Consecration

Warning:  Some pictures are sideways.  After fighting with blogger and my computer for three hours, I have surrendered to the technology.  Just turn your head to the side (sometimes to the right, sometimes to the left) and it will be just like the pictures are right side up.

Last Sunday we had the pleasure of attending Mbanda’s consecration as the new bishop of the Shyira Diocese.  Here I will illustrate the day in pictures.  Hopefully it will give you a taste of a pretty typical Rwandan ceremony.

There was very tight security because the President was rumored to be in attendance.  We arrived and went through a metal detector for security.  The girl running the metal detector removed our cameras and took pictures of us with them.  I guess this was to make sure they weren’t bombs!?

We wandered through the crowds to the VIP tent.  Here is my view of the stage from said VIP tent.  Pretty VIP, eh?  Not completely sure what makes me a VIP, but I can offer a pretty good guess.  It starts with a  Mu and ends with a Zungu.

The entire service was in Kinyarwanda, so I had to entertain myself in other ways.  I read an entire book (Gifted Hands by Ben Carson… excellent story), and Peyton read Deuteronomy.

One of the Sonrise High School choirs sang for entertainment.  They are fantastic, and it was nice to see some familiar faces be a part of such an important ceremony.

Finally, two and a half hours after the consecration began, President Paul Kagame arrived.  He received a very warm welcome from the thousands of people in attendance, many of whom probably only showed up because they heard Kagame would be there.

And then the rains came.  Here are Bishop John (the current bishop of the Shyira Diocese) and President Paul Kagame under the same umbrella!

Thousands of people were viewing the consecration without a tent over their heads.  Many opened up umbrellas to keep themselves dry.  Others ran to the church for shelter.  Some just got wet.  Others got resourceful.

The rain did not stop the entertainers from entertaining.  These are various clergymen from all over Rwanda dancing in the torrential downpour.

After about five and a half hours, the ceremony came to a close, and we walked home to a house full of new guests.  Perhaps I will tell you about them later. 

We are thrilled that Bishop Mbanda will be the new bishop of our diocese and look forward to the wonderful things he will do for the Rwandan people!