Freedom

So while most of my faithful readers likely woke up Saturday morning anticipating the evening’s big college football game and spent Sunday morning gloating (or sulking, as the case may be), my weekend differed a bit.  While I DID wear a bright orange skirt and a big tiger paw on my shirt to church on Sunday, I celebrated a more meaningful victory.

Saturday morning, I made myself presentable (as this often helps your cause dealing with official business in Rwanda) and headed out to attempt to bail one of my boys out of jail.  Thursday night at English lessons, the boys informed me that one of them had been hauled away that afternoon for selling a dictionary on the streets.  You see, it is illegal to sell anything on the streets here, and undercover cops engage sellers and then arrest them and haul them off, much like they do with drug dealers in America.  I asked the boys how long he’d be in jail and they said maybe the end of the year, maybe February.  Now, note he was not indeed selling drugs, but a dictionary.  I asked if there was any way I could get him out of prison and they asked me to please try.  So try I did…

I armed myself with documents proving he was a member of the troupe, documents proving that I paid the rent for their house, and photos of the boys at drum practice and in their home.  I was escorted to the door of a building that looked like a run-down factory.  A police greeted me at the door and I humored him with my broken Kinyarwanda and essentially said, “Good morning.  How are you?  I am fine.  My student is here.  This is a problem.”  He asked for the name of my student and then sent someone to find him.  The entire experience broke my heart.

The police officer informed me that my students were street kids.   I quickly showed him the documents proving I paid their rent and the pictures of them sitting in their living room and the promotional flyer for the dance troupe boasting of FORMER Rwandan street kids.  It broke my heart that these boys have come SO far from who they were when they really were street kids, but they are still viewed as the bane of society.  I thought of The Avett Brothers’ song “The Perfect Space” that says, “I want to have friends that I can trust/ who love me for the man I’ve become/ not the man that I was…”

I had a conversation with another man at the entrance who taught secondary school in town and said that part of their curriculum these days is to teach students that street kids are people, too.  While I didn’t see many faces, I imagined the look that would be on my own face if I received the message these kids were being sent everyday through their circumstances, and I assure you that message is not, “You are a person, too!”  I watched as a young teenage girl arrived with a baby on her hip.  She passed the baby off to another teenage girl inside the institution, presumably the baby’s mother.  As I witnessed the police officers mockingly asking both girls if they had husbands, I imagined Jesus telling those without sin to throw the first stone and refusing to condemn the girls.

I was grateful that the police released "my boy" to me.  His "brothers" were equally as grateful that I was able to get him out of jail.  I took him home to the open arms of the rest of the boys and went on my with Saturday.

Saturday night we had a staff Christmas party and sang various Christmas carols.  The leader of the singing encouraged us to really think about the words of the songs we were singing, and that thought crossed my mind as I listened to Josh Groban sing “O Holy Night” this morning before church.  As he sang, “Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother/ and in His name all oppression shall cease,” I couldn’t help but rejoice in the truth of that.

At church, we read Matthew 25:31-46 and I was reminded of the role we have in helping the oppression to cease.  Give food to the hungry.  Give water to the thirsty.  Welcome strangers.  Clothe the naked.  Visit the sick.  Visit the imprisoned.  You may not live in the middle of Africa where these things are so prevalent, but there are hungry, thirsty, strange, naked, sick, imprisoned people everywhere.  Do something about it!

Jesus was born to an oft-condemned teenager and grew up amidst the jeers of the authorities.  He came and broke chains so that we could be free from condemnation.  He loved the unlovely and served the servile.  And in His name, ALL oppression shall ultimately cease.  I eagerly anticipate that day!

Half a Weekend in Kibuye

This weekend, two of my fellow teachers and I decided to have a mini-getaway to Lake Kivu.  As every other African adventure, this one was eventful.  A few noteworthy moments:

1. The lady sitting next to Natalie on the bus got super sick, so Abby gave her a Ziploc bag (with a slice of leftover birthday cake in it), and she puked and puked and puked.  When she had eliminated the contents of her stomach into the bag, she threw the puke/birthday cake bomb out the window. Disgusting.
2. We ate Lake Kivu fish (not sure exactly what variety that is) for dinner.  The whole things.  Heads and tails included.  Delicious.
3. I slept in my hammock overlooking the beautiful lake beneath the rolling hills.  Delightful.
4. I was awoken at 1:30am by some tiny splatters on my hammock followed by some retching up above.  That’s right, someone on the balcony above ralphed over the railing and didn’t quite miss the miss in the hammock below.  I was a victim of vomit.  Luckily I was all wrapped up like a cocoon and didn’t actually get any spewed splatters on my person.  Dirty.
5. Ten minutes after the puke incident, I heard presumably the puker pee and then discuss (right loudly) the prospect of drinking his own urine, provided he were stranded in a desert with no water to be found.  He is the reason so many people around the world hate Americans.  Despicable.
6. We walked down to the nicer hotel and kayaked about the lake for an hour then ate lunch and walked back to our guesthouse.  Lots of fun, fellowship, and fitness.  Divine.

Now it’s back to the grind.  I have a unit to plan tomorrow and 2 more weeks of school until Thanksgiving!

Dumb and Dumber in Rwanda

So yesterday I took one of my students to Bourbon for coffee after school.  I drive a TVS Scooty Pep+ and I have a huge full-face helmet for me and a dainty little pink flowery one for my passengers.  Well, through a series of unfortunate events, my pink helmet ended up not being at school when I needed to give it to my student to ride safely to Bourbon.  I ended up giving her my full-face and using the decrepit blue helmet (with no face mask or chin strap) that’s been sitting around at school as long as I’ve worked there.  It was on this scooter ride that I reminisced back to 1994.

In 1994, something happened that changed the world forever.  Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels starred in the ever-popular film Dumb and Dumber.  As I drove down the road yesterday wearing my janky helmet, my student grasping my shoulders, I felt very much like Lloyd Christmas driving to Aspen.  Of course, I asked my passenger if she felt like Harry Dunne, but seeing as she was BORN in 1996, she had NO clue what I was referring to.

Later the same night, another Dumb and Dumber moment was lost on the people around me.  I was at “my boys” house teaching them English.  David’s smile warmed my heart.  His joy in the midst of extreme poverty and hardship never ceases to amaze me.  My smile broadened, however, when he said, and I kid you not, “we have no food.  We have no jobs.”  It was ALL I could do not to respond, “Our pets heads are falling off!”

These are not the only parallels one can draw between my life and Dumb and Dumber.  For example, there’s the obvious, “Why you going to the airport?  Flying somewhere?” as I fly somewhere on a fairly regular basis.  I can also relate to Lloyd when he says “I get 70 miles to the gallon on this hog.”  But, according to my calculations (which are likely less than accurate), I get more like 100 miles to the gallon on my “hog.”  (If you want to do the math, my tank holds 5 liters of petrol and I can drive 200 kilometers on one tank.)

Then there’s the aptly named pet store, “I Got Worms,” which is something I have been able to say on multiple occasions since moving to Rwanda.  Once I left English lessons a bit early to make it to the pharmacy before it closed.  I told the boys I needed to go because I had “snakes of the stomach” (as they call them).  One of them responded, “Everyone has snakes in their stomach!”  I informed him that, while that may be the case in his country, we westerners boast of worm-less stomachs most of the time…

The next parallel might only make sense to my fellow abazungu (white folk) in Rwanda, but the exchange between Lloyd and the elderly woman on the sidewalk applies to our lives here:

            Lloyd:  Excuse me, little old lady.  Do you have change for a dollar?

            Elderly woman:  Change?  No, I’m sorry, I don’t.

For, you see, finding change in this country (while it has been improving as of late) is NOT an easy task.  Moto drivers are infamous for not having the change you need and trying to get you to give up and let them “keep the change.” 

My last parallel might be a stretch.  Recall the last scene of the movie.  Harry gives a bus full of girls directions to the nearest town.  Harry then runs back and tells them different directions to the nearest town. This is how direction giving works in Rwanda.  You ask one person how to get to X, and he points you up the hill to the right.  When you get up the hill to the right, you ask another person how to get to X and he points you down the hill to the left where you find another person who points you straight ahead where you find another person, and I think you get the picture.  You never know quite where you’re going to be led.

So you may be wondering where I’m being led after this school year since my “commitment” ends May 29.  Well, if you’re wondering if I’ll come to the States for the summer and return to KICS next year, well, I’m “telling [you] there’s a chance!”

The DRC

Hello from the Democratic Republic of the Congo!  We have a week off from school, so I decided to visit my friends Lindsey and Blake in Lubumbashi, DRC.  I’ve thoroughly enjoyed home-cooked meals, going to bed whenever I want and waking up whenever I want, as well.

Just a few observations/broad generalizations about the Congolese:

1. Congolese people are, in general, more attractive than Rwandan people. 

I’ve noticed myself stopping and staring at numerous people since I’ve arrived here.  There’s just something about the faces I’m seeing that is like nothing I’ve seen in Rwanda.

2. Congolese people are, in general, more talented than Rwandan people.

The music coming from the church around the corner on Sunday morning stunned me.  The melody, the harmony, the rhythm… These Congolese have skills.

3. Congolese people are, in general, more stylish than Rwandan people.

The style also reflects on the talent a bit.  The African fabrics here are beautiful, and the Congolese take full advantage of the endless possibilities of ways to create fashion masterpieces with them.  I’ve wanted to steal so many dresses right off of their owners, but that wouldn’t cut it with the modesty standards ‘round these parts.

[Side note:  I feel right at home in my matchy-matchy obsession here in the DRC.  If you have a yellow hat, yellow shirt, yellow belt, yellow bag, and yellow shoes, why not wear them all at the same time?]

Some observations/broad generalizations about the Congo:

1. DRC is far dirtier than Rwanda.

There is trash EVERYWHERE in DRC.  They also burn their trash, so it smells wretched much of the time.

2. DRC is far more corrupt than Rwanda.

While currently the police are forced to offer grace to passing vehicles for two months, typically cars are stopped many times a day to show their documents.  We’ve only been waved down once since I got here, but Blake and Lindsey are not looking forward to December when the grace period expires…

3. DRC is far hotter than Rwanda.

It started raining in Rwanda not long ago which drops the temperature significantly and makes me wish I had a jacket much of the time.  The rain hasn’t come to DRC yet, and it’s well above 90 degrees Fahrenheit everyday and barely gets below 70 degrees at night.  It’s also SUPER dry, and thus I have major crusty boogers in my nose constantly. 

Well, those are all of the observations I care to share at present.  Perhaps I’ll share some more with you before I leave… but no promises!

Zebra Crossing

Yesterday, I received an SMS (a text message) from the Rwandan National Police that read, “RNP reminds you that talking & texting on phone while driving is a traffic offence.  Disregarding zebra crossing also attracts punishment.”  One hour later, I received the same message translated into Kinyarwanda.  Oh, what a country I live in!

A few thoughts on this text message…

1. I live in a country that is so small that the national police force can send a mass text message to every single person in the country to pass on information, however impertinent.
2. The Rwandan National Police disseminated this message to an entire country of 10 million people where approximately 2 in every 100 people have cars.  Some people in remote little villages, who may never have seen a car, have cell phones and likely received this message.  I can only imagine their confusion.
3. I teach American English in a country that is dominated by British and African English.  Note that being on the phone whilst driving is a traffic offenCe.  Teaching English here is a constant battle.
4. You might think it humorous that “disregarding zebra crossing also attracts punishment.”  While, yes, I do live in the middle of Africa, no, that does NOT mean you need to watch out for crossing zebras (pronounced here as if it rhymed with Debra’s).  For my American readership out there, zebra crossings are pedestrian crosswalks.
5. I appreciate the RNP’s active voice in the second sentence, but the word choice could use some help.  Eliminating passive voice is one of the skills I plan to teach my tenth grade English class next week, so I’m glad to have some additional fodder for my lesson.
6. All in all, I appreciate the reminder that "talking & texting on phone while driving is" indeed dangerous.  I drive a Scooty Pep+ around this fine town, and while I am always very aware of my surroundings, I notice that, 9 times out of 10, the people who don’t notice me on the road are, indeed, on their cell phones.  (The other 1 out of 10 is ALWAYS a woman!)

Every day I have to chuckle at the goings-on in my world.  Whether it’s a mass text message from the police or a comment from a student (“I am shizzle to be a man one day,” said one of my street boys last week, bringing back a slang word from a lesson from months ago...), I never cease to be amazed at the never-ending amusement around me.  While I sometimes envy you people who live in a land where pretty much everyone speaks your language, I don’t pity you.  You are missing out on LOTS of laughs!

Mom Comes to Africa

Last Friday evening, I picked up my mom at the Kigali airport.  Yes, she did fly ALL THE WAY to Africa ALL BY HERSELF.  I told her she was a big girl, and she could do it, and she did!  I took her straight from the airport to the national stadium for a basketball game between the AND1 Mixtape Legends and the Rwanda Street Ballers.  It was quite entertaining and a nice transition to life in Africa, what with all the American basketball players in our midst…

Saturday, we went to African Bagel Company for the most delicious donuts in the world.  Or at least more delicious than most in America and the only ones I’ve really come across in Africa.  Mom got to meet lots of people I know and we sat and chatted for a few hours before we headed to town to watch the LEAF Intore Cultural Troupe practice dancing and drumming.  They all loved having Mama Teacha in their midst and she enjoyed meeting the loves of my life.  Then we went to my friend’s business’s launch and saw all of her lovely accessories on display before riding on the scooter through the mist to meet some other friends for dinner at Zen.  It’s dry season here in Rwanda, but you wouldn’t have known it on Saturday night.  We got stuck at Zen for 2 hours waiting for the rain to die down enough to scoot home where we arrived to a house with no power.  I assured Mom it’d be back before the morning, as it never goes out for more than a couple hours…

Sunday morning we woke up to no power.  I feared for the 5 pounds of cheddar cheese in the powerless refrigerator that had just arrived from America.  We walked to church (where she almost fell asleep numerous times thanks to a bit of jet lag and the help of a dreadfully boring sermon) and then walked to meet Emma at Magda Café for lunch.  They had no power either, but they were still functional and we felt better about our lack of power at home.  We walked down to check out Ivuka Arts Studio and looked at all of the art and watched some precious little children perform some traditional dances for us.  After our jaunt to Ivuka, we loaded up two backpacks of stuff and walked to Rugando.  First stop was Jessica’s house.  I was taking her all of my maternity-esque clothes, you know, all my flowy hippie stuff…  Then we went to the Bennett’s and had a delectable meal with some fabulous fellowship.  After dinner, we opened presents like it was Christmas and made the girls’ lives by giving them cheese packets from macaroni and cheese boxes.

Monday, I dropped Mom off at the Genocide Memorial and went to teach a couple of my tutees.  I picked her up after a long, emotional tour of the super sad memorial and we went to Afrika Bite for a nice African buffet lunch.  Rwandan food is by no means exciting, but there is nothing super unordinary that she had to choke down just to say she did…  After lunch, we headed to town to do a little shopping at the craft co-op and Nakumatt.  We went to dinner with two other mom/daughter duos (well they both had dads, too…) at New Cactus and then came home to rest up for our early morning wake up call.

Tuesday was devoted to Butare, the home of the National Museum.  We stopped the bus before it got to town so we could go to the museum.  Shortly after disembarking, I realized I left my phone on the bus.  Mom freaked out a little, but I was confident I would get it back.  This is Rwanda, after all.  We hopped on motos and rode back to the bus station.  They assured us the driver would shortly bring the phone and so we went back to the museum, which is only closed on 4 major national holidays…and that particular Tuesday.  All that travel for nothing!  Bummer.  We walked to town, did a little more handicraft shopping and got ice cream at Inzozi Nziza, which is always a pleasure.  We ate lunch then hopped back on the bus for a 2 hour ride back to Kigali.  Tuesday night we took some shoes and some Fantas to the LEAF boys’ house and they hung out with Teacha and Mama Teacha.  A few of them gave her speeches in English.  I think the most complimentary thing they said was that she was very special because she gave birth to me.  I agree.

Wednesday, I took Mom with me to teach some of my tutees and she got some good ol’ Korean hospitality.  After English lessons, we went to Shokola for some internetting.  Later we went to Khana Kazana (my favorite place in Rwanda) for some tasty Indian food and then over to Heaven for Godfrey’s solo art exhibition.  He had some pretty incredible stuff on display. 

Thursday, we hit up the market for a bit which gave Mom a real African experience.  I dropped off some fabric to get a dress and some pants made.  After the market, we went to Lalibela for Mom’s first Ethiopian meal ever.  Then we went to the Hotel Mille Collines for happy hour brochettes.

Friday, we went to Akagera National Park.  Our driver picked us up at 5:00am then went to pick up our travel companions at their house.  He promptly fell asleep at the first stoplight.  He drove rather erratically and soon informed us that he had picked people up at the airport at 2am before he came to get us at 5, so he hadn’t slept very much.  Awesome.  We made it to the park and our park guide took over the driving responsibilities and let the driver sleep.  We saw lots of animals.  Giraffes, zebra, waterbucks, birds, impala, various other breeds of antelope, warthogs, hippos, etc.  I’d seen them all before on safari in Tanzania, but I had never been to Akagera, so it was nice.

Saturday morning we woke up early and took the bus to Gisenyi.  We sat out on the sandy beach most of the day and then took the longest moto ride ever to Kigufi to sleep at this super cute little cozy guesthouse on the lake.  There were 2 other guests staying there that night, so the nuns set the dinner table for 4 and we shared dinner with two Polish girls.  Only in Africa…

Sunday morning we hopped back on an early bus to Musanze and went to Sonrise, my old stomping ground.  We were told chapel was at 8, but really it was at 9:30.  So we sat around reading our Kindles for a bit before church started.  This week’s service was far more entertaining than last week’s as the preacher jumped and danced and jumped and jumped and jumped.  We hung out with some of my special students and ate lunch with them before busing back to Kigali.

Monday and Tuesday were relatively uneventful.  I made Mom eat goat.  We went back to the market.  Then she packed up, and we headed back to the airport.  I didn’t take a single picture.  If you want proof of her visit, you’ll have to make her put hers on Facebook…

Watch This!

Another video for you.  I didn't make this one, but I am in it.  See if you can spot me!

Kigali International Community School

This is where I work.  Well, where I worked until last week and where I'll work again come August.

I'll update you on my summer as it unfurls.

For Your Viewing Pleasure

I thought I'd change things up a little here on the ol' blog.  I realize I have been posting very irregularly, and it's because I tend to do the same things daily/weekly/monthly, and I've already written about all of them.  

As you may or may not know, my favorite thing in Rwanda is the LEAF Intore Cultural Troupe.  These boys are all genocide orphans who spent years living together in a parking lot before they were discovered and taught to drum and dance.  I spend a good 6 hours with them every week "teaching English."  Sometimes it's a formal grammar lesson on, say, the past progressive tense.  Sometimes it's a lesson on slang, fo shizzle.  Sometimes it's a pep talk about using money wisely:  food is more important than DVDs.  Sometimes it's a Bible Study.  Sometimes it's all of the above.  Here's a glimpse into the lives of the loves of my life:

Spring Break

Okay, it seems like all I ever do is travel about the world these days.  I promise I also teach school and tutor kids and hang out with street boys and friends of many nationalities.  It’s just the everyday things that I’ve already written about, so the abnormal things get first priority on the ol’ blog.  That being said…

Two weeks ago was Genocide Memorial Week here in Rwanda, and everything closed down for the week, including my school.  I took the 10 days off of school (“Spring Break”) as a chance to see a new part of the world.  I flew to Malta on Genocide Memorial Day.  Since KGL and MLA are both small airports, the flights were a bit roundabout.  I flew from Kigali to Entebbe, Uganda, to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, to Rome, Italy, to Malta.  All in all it was 24 hours of travel (which is how long it takes me to get back to America from Rwanda), and while many people would be turned off by such ridiculous flight plans, I was just ready to see the world!

You may be asking, “Why Malta?”  Well, there is a missionary couple from my church back home who live there, so I had a place to stay and my own personal tour guides.  They were GREAT hosts!  Here they are at the Citadel on Gozo (the 2^nd largest of the Maltese Islands).

 The week was just what I needed.  Some time away. Some good food (including but not limited to Maltese rabbit, snails, tacos, cereal, French toast, and THE best thing I have ever tasted:  gnocchi with pistachio cream sauce). Some peace and quiet.  Some new sights and experiences.  Here are just a few of them.

Paul's Prison Cell

Donald's Taller Twin

Grand Harbor

St. John's Co Cathedral

Strawberry Festival

One of Many Wildflowers

Streets of Valletta

Malta from Mdina

Somewhere in Gozo

St. Paul's Island

Dingli Cliffs

Blue Grotto

Megalithic Ruins

The Gozo Countryside and Me

Azure Window

You may recognize some scenery from The Count of Monte Cristo, which is a fabulous movie for those of you who have not seen it.  I watched it one day and then saw all of the sights the next, which was pretty cool.

After 6 days of traveling all over Malta (which is only 217 square miles), I got back on a plane and flew for 24 more hours (this time through Cairo, Addis, and Entebbe) in time to catch up with lots of people over the weekend before heading back to school on Monday.

Now I’ve technically traveled on 5 continents.  Granted, I have much more traveling to do on each of them, but I’m getting there buhoro buhoro (slowly by slowly).  Only one more continent to go…  Who wants to go to Australia?! (And no, I’m not forgetting Antarctica.  I’m just not interested.  And no, Antarctica, it’s not you.  It’s me.)

Nairobi!

So a few weeks ago as I was perusing kigalilife (basically virtual classifieds), I came across an advertisement for a cheap flight deal to Nairobi for Valentine's Day.  My friend and fellow teacher, Elizabeth, was in the office when I made this (verbal) realization.  She said, "Let's go!" and I said, "Okay."

So the next day we ventured into town to buy the plane tickets at Rwandair.  It was not a completely smooth process (never has been), but we received an unimaginable showing of customer service when they told us "It is not possible" to purchase tickets at the advertised rate.  At which point I referred to the fact that Rwandair had given me trouble in the past.  Josephine asked for it, so I gave it to her.  All of the problems I've had with Rwandair.  And you know what happened?  She called her boss, and he gave us the tickets for the cheap price.  What a feat!  For those of you who have never tried to do any business in Rwanda, let it be known that the customer is NEVER right and unwritten terms and conditions exist EVERYWHERE.  Possible things are often deemed impossible, to which I want to tell them, "ALL things are possible."  But they won't hear it.  But that day, in that Rwandair office, the IMPOSSIBLE happened.  Rapture ensued and Elizabeth started counting down the days to our mini-vacation.

Last Thursday, I went to teach my boys English and then scooted home to pack and go to sleep.  Our flight left at 4am (EEK!) so my sleep was frequently interrupted, first by my alarm telling me to go to the taxi and then once I was in the airport by the man telling me to board the plane and on the airplane by my 4:15am full English breakfast then in the taxi by our arrival at our destination:  Milimani Backpacker's Hostel.

I'm not going to share with you a detailed description of each thing we did, but rather a quick rundown of activities we were able to participate in.

We went to Nakumatt where we saw Honey Bunches of Oats and cheddar cheese!

We went to the National Archives Museum and the Railway Museum!

We went to Yaya Center and Sarit Center and West Gate Mall milled around the malls for a bit!

I got my hair cut at a real salon!

We ate Lebanese food with my friend Kim who I met in Musanze last year!

We went to the Maasai market!

We went ice skating!

We ate ostrich meatballs, leg of lamb, lamb sausages, chicken legs, beef, turkey, crocodile, ox balls, camel, pork ribs, and pork sausages at Carnivore!

We bought books at multiple bookstores!

We rode a matatu from city center all the way to the end of its route in some village (accidentally) but then made it back to our destination (Village Market)!

We went to an organic food store!

We read books and drank fresh squeezed juice at a juice bar!

We went bowling!

We watched a movie in a movie theater!

I ate a grilled turkey, bacon, and cheddar sandwich and cheesecake at Java House!

We bought cereal and cheddar cheese and granola bars!

And we made it back to Kigali in one piece to teach our lovely children school yesterday (on International Women's Day).

Some Snippets

Jamie says I need a new blog post, (or technically, I guess she said, “Need new blog post.”)  I guess it is about time.  I have had an idea for a great blog post, but just haven’t gotten around to taking the perfect picture for it.  Therefore, I’ll just give you some snippets today.  Ten of them.

Snippet #1:  Independence is mine.  I got a scooter!  TVS Scooty Pep +.  And it’s awesome (when it doesn’t have a flat tire… which happened 4 times in the first 24 hours that I had it, but hasn’t happened again in the 4 weeks I’ve been driving it).  Moto drivers especially enjoy watching me scoot around town.  A white girl on a “motorcycle” is by no means normal.

Snippet #2:  I have been teaching SAT prep to one of my student’s sisters after school on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.  I think if I took the SAT right now, I’d blow it out of the water.

Snippet #3:  I am learning how to salsa dance.  It’s no contra, but it’s my only option as a replacement here in Rwanda, and I’m having fun doing it!

Snippet #4:  We are doing a jump rope unit in PE, and it is a HUGE hit.  Thank you Katie for the jump ropes!  I also found out, via jump rope unit in PE, that Soulja Boy has a new hit/dance called “Crank Dat Jump Rope.”  Thank you, Soulja Boy, for making jump rope “cool!”

Snippet #5:  One of my teacher friends (and future dentist) bought all of “my boys” toothbrushes and we had a How To Brush Your Teeth lesson before English class on Thursdays.  They asked some really phenomenal questions.  Like, “I haven’t brushed my teeth in ten years, why should I do it now?” or “Ali can’t chew meat since he had those three teeth pulled, can he replace them with goat teeth?”  Awesome.

Snippet #6:  Yesterday I spent $82 and an hour of my time adding 24 pages to my passport.  Apparently, even things on “US soil” in Rwanda take forever and not just Rwandan things…

Snippet #7:  I had to get new pages in my passport because I’m going to Nairobi next weekend with another teacher friend.  She lived there for 6 months, so she’ll be an excellent tour guide.  We are counting down the days!  SIX!

Snippet #8:  I also needed new pages because I’m going to Malta for Spring Break (with all of the Libyan evacuees?)!  I’ve always wanted to see the Mediterranean Sea, and April 8 is the day my dreams will come true!

Snippet #9:  Thursday was “Formal Day” dress-up day at school, so I wore formal attire (with high heels) and stunned all of my students who have only ever seen me in my PE kit.  I received the following comments: “Wow, Ms. Simpson, do you ever really dress like this?  I thought you were a tomboy!”  and “Your dress is nasty and that make-up on your face, ugh!” and “Ms. Simpson, you have a zit.”  Out of the mouths of babes…

Snippet #10:  I shut them all up when I jump roped with a criss cross and a double jump in my stilettos.  So there.

Just Another Saturday in Rwanda...

Yesterday, I had two new and wonderful Rwandan experiences.  First, a dowry giving ceremony and second, a football game.

First:  The Dowry Giving Ceremony

The receptionist at my school’s sister is getting married and she invited our staff to the dowry giving.  Eight of us put on our Sunday best and headed to her mom’s house in Nyamirambo arriving “15 minutes late” for the 11:00 ceremony.  Needless to say, we were among the first to arrive.  After waiting an hour and a half, (the extra time was necessary to acquire a generator because the power went out) the ceremony began.  I won’t bore you with all of the details (though, believe you me, the ceremony was not boring, especially not with it being interpreted to me by William, my favorite guard at school and “Assistant PE Teacher”), but I will share with you the gist of the event and my favorite parts.

The Gist

The dowry giving ceremony is a time for the bride’s family to name their price for their girl.  The groom’s family makes an offer and they debate a little and then eventually present the bride to the groom and everyone eats, drinks, and bes merry.  It’s more for entertainment than to actually agree on a price, but the price will end up being paid.

My Favorite Parts

The first hilarious event was when the groom’s father elaborated on the “cow” he would pay to have the bride join his family.  A group of men went out of the garden to see the “cow” and then returned with a veterinarian who vouched for the health of the “cow” and the shepherd who sang a lovely song about the state and name of the “cow.”  The reason why this was so funny was because William informed us that there was, of course, wait for it… no cow.  The “cow” is actually amafaranga (money). 

Another comical occurrence was when the groom’s family informed the bride’s family that they had a son that wanted to marry a girl from the bride’s family, and asked if they had an eligible bachelorette. The bride’s family then presented this girl…

The groom’s family was of course not pleased and asked for an older daughter, to which the bride’s family presented this girl….

(Still not the actual bride.)  After some more shenanigans, the bride was finally presented and the bride and groom presented each other’s families with gifts, fed each other Sprite/Fanta Citron….

And we all ate a fabulous Rwandan meal.  As we were finishing the meal, I informed William that I wanted to go to the football game.  We looked at our watches and saw that it started in an hour and a half.  (Sidenote:  Now, my Muzungu friends had all been at the stadium for hours, paid 5,000RWF for tickets and surrendered their cell phones to get VIP seats.  I had been communicating with them earlier and was hoping to join them at the game.  But who needs to wait around all day and buy expensive tickets when you have William by your side?)  William informed me that, really, the wedding was finished since we were eating and we should go... which brings us to the second wonderful Rwandan experience…

The Football Game

 I had my doubts about getting into the game since my Muzungu friends had informed me of entrance’s implausibility even hours before, but William “knows the people.” So we walked through the dusty streets of Naymirambo to a taxi stand and got in a 15-passenger van taxi to town.  Then we found a Coaster bus taxi to the stadium.  Now this process takes a bit longer than you might assume with stops here and there to let people in and out of the taxis, and thus we made it to the stadium about 10 minutes before the game’s start time. 

When we arrived at the stadium, we were informed that they were no longer letting men in (as the President had already been seated), but women were free to enter.  The crowd shoved me toward the fence to enter, and I pulled the damsel in distress card and reached out and cried (not literally) for “MY FRIEND!!!!”  To which, they shooed William in the fence as well.  Once we got in the fence, there were no problems, because apparently William used to be in the President’s Guard.  Who knew?!?  He found a security officer he knew for his pat-down, and sent me to the woman (who took the obligatory “the President’s at this event, so we have to take a picture of you with your own camera to make sure it’s not a weapon of some sort” photo....).

We made it through security and ran up the steps into the stadium where we were stopped (relatively unsuccessfully) by the ticket collectors.  We waited about thirty seconds and then entered with another group of people who had somehow finagled their way in as well.  We made it to the front row merely 2 minutes after the game started.  Here was my view…

What a raucous environment.  We happened to be sitting right between Rwanda’s fans and Burkina Faso’s fans, but clearly Rwanda’s fans dominated, as you can clearly see in this guy….

And by the sardinely packed nature of the crowd:

What a fun, fun time!  It was actually my first ever live complete football game, and what better time than the

Sadly, Rwanda lost 2-1, but as it was the furthest any Rwandan sports team has made it in any competition ever, it was still a great day for Rwanda and the U-17 football team.

Thank you, William, for making it happen and totally unexpectedly transforming my Saturday into one big, fun adventure!

My Boys

First, let me apologize for the terrible formatting of any blog post of mine with photos.  Blogger doesn't make it the easiest on its users...  Second, I hope you will enjoy a few photos from this weekend when my boys danced and drummed for a party celebrating a missionary couple's 30th year in Rwanda.  I figured you might want to see the smiling faces of the loves of my life.  Enjoy!


 Me and my boys...                                                                             Wearing one of their wigs.

Drumming

 Dancing                                    Post Dancing Meal Daniel and his inanga.

What I Said at Church on January 2

First of all, murakoze cyane cyane cyane!  I would like to thank my church family for all of your support over the past year, both prayer support and financial support.  If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be able to do what I do in Rwanda.  While I can buy the most delicious avocado in the world for a quarter and the most delicious pineapple in the world for fifty cents, a gallon of gas is six dollars and a big box of Kellogg’s Corn Flakes is…wait for it…. TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS.  But don’t worry, I never eat corn flakes for breakfast..

Now if you will, turn with me to Ephesians 5 and let’s read verses 15 and 16. 

Nuko mwirinde cyane uko mugenda mutagenda nk’abatagira ubwenge, ahubwo mugende nk’abanyabwenge, mucunguze uburyo umwete kuko iminsi ari mibi.

Oops, looks like I brought my Kinyarwanda Bible with me tonight.  I believe the NIV says, “Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil.”

Now, if any country in this world knows evil days, it is Rwanda.  One hundred of the most evil days of our time were in the spring and summer of 1994 in Rwanda.  One million people were slaughtered with machetes in one hundred days merely for being a certain ethnicity.  But I’m not here to talk to you about Rwanda’s past; I’m here to talk to you about the present and future in Rwanda, about making the most of every opportunity, about open doors…

I’m sure you have all heard that when God closes a door, he opens a window.  Someone probably said that to you when some thing you really, really wanted just didn’t seem to work out.  I, however, personally think that more often than not, God opens doors and rather than just walk through them, we search for a window to jump out of. Opportunities arise every day; we just need to make the most of them.

Now for a few anecdotes from Rwanda…

Speaking of open doors, one night in February, one of my housemates left the back door open, and someone made the most of the opportunity.  That someone being a thief.  We woke up the next morning and found we were missing 3 laptops, 2 cameras, an iPod, a Kindle, a wireless router, a computer monitor, and season 2 of 24.  I wrote a series of long, in-depth blog posts about the incident if you want all the details, but I’ll give you a quick recap right now.  Basically, we had said sayonara to our belongings and gave up hope after a few days, but then exactly one week later I received an email from my friend Rachel in the US that read as follows:  “Hey Kel, just got this today...maybe has something to do with your computer? I don't know, but it would be a really weird coincidence if someone was trying to scam me and happened to write to me from Gisenyi, though I suppose they could have just gotten my email off of your computer. Weird all around.

Ø   hi rachel. My name is John Isaac i m in Gisenyi Rwanda. So if you can now you can call me on 0788570017. In bref i have some thing you lost. Please if is possible call son as pos. Merci

Now, I’ve always heard that if it seems to good to be true, it probably isn’t, but could it be true?  Could it be???  I called the number in the email which started the covert operation that led to the recovery of all of our stolen goods.  It was a daylong affair involving multiple undercover cops, plenty of time at various police stations, and a newfound friendship with the regional police commander, who is a good friend to have.  It was like the newest episode of CSI:  Rwanda.  Long story short, all of our electronics were being sold on the black market in the Congo, but thanks to one honest man named John Isaac, we got ALL of it back.  Now, if God can help us recover thousands of dollars of electronics from the black market in the Congo, I want you to tell me something God CAN’T do….  So, one of the first lessons I learned in Rwanda was that God truly is capable of absolutely anything and that He really is on our side.

The next story is about an open door that I walked through.  After teaching for 6 months at Sonrise School in Musanze, Rwanda, a new opportunity arose for me.  And wanting to make the most of every opportunity, I walked through the open doors of Kigali International Community School.  I stumbled upon an amazing community and the opportunity to influence 220 children from 30 different countries and God broadened the reach of my ministry exponentially.  And through PE, even!  I am having an absolute blast teaching fourth through twelfth grade PE at KICS and I’m enjoying the KICS community as well.  To illustrate just how supportive this community is, let me tell you about my experience with malaria.  I’m sure most of you were kept up to date by my parents, but if not, I spent four days at home in bed with a terrible fever before I was admitted to a clinic for a very strong treatment for malaria.  Then I spent four days in the clinic on a quinine IV, and God provided so much for me.  Not only did he provide a wonderful, competent doctor and healing for my terrible sickness, but he provided a very supportive community to nurse me back to life.  One of the moms from my school saw me looking pitiful in the waiting room of the clinic and I filled her in on the situation.  She said she would bring me food.  And bring me food she did!  Every meal of every day her cook made me something delicious and her driver delivered it to me in my bed.  Another KICS mom brought me tie dyed socks to raise my spirits.  My headmaster did all of my dealings with the doctor and brought me movies to watch in my room.  Another KICS mom came in one day just to wash and braid my hair.  It was an amazing outpouring of love.  I couldn’t have chosen a better place to be, and I am so thankful I walked through the open doors at KICS.

Sometimes, God opens doors for us, but other times, God leads us to a door that we have to open ourselves.  That is what happened to me upon moving to the big city of Kigali.  Back in America, I had been a faithful attendee of LEAF (Lake Eden Arts Festival) in Black Mountain, North Carolina.  Shortly after I moved to Kigali, I received the monthly update from LEAF informing me that some LEAFers were coming to Rwanda and Tanzania in August.  I took the initiative to email LEAF and set up a meeting with the director when she was in the country.  LEAF has an outreach program where they hire local performers to teach vulnerable youth in third world countries traditional music to preserve the arts and help lift the youth out of poverty.  LEAF in Rwanda has a dance troupe of 16 former street boys who learn drumming and dancing from Leonard, a member of the Rwandan national ballet.  I met with some LEAF people at a coffee shop and we shared about what our organizations did in Rwanda, and then the LEAF people were ready to go.  I stopped them and said, I LIVE in Kigali.  Is there anything I can DO to help?  I have plenty of spare time.  I suggested possibly teaching the boys English, and the LEAF representative started to cry.  They had asked the boys what they wanted, and more than any material goods, they said they wanted to learn English.  So every Tuesday and Thursday, I spend two or three hours building relationships with 16 former street boys and teaching them English.  Almost every lesson turns into an impromptu Bible study.  For example, one day I was teaching them body parts.  Now, when I learned body parts in my Kinyarwanda lesson, it was like umutwe, ugutwi, amaso, iminwya, amatoko, amaguru, and I’m done.  These boys are so thirsty for knowledge that we started at the top of the head and learned every possible facial feature, eyes, eyelids, eyebrows, eyelashes, etc.  When I went from neck to shoulders, they stopped me and asked what “THIS” was.  I said, “an Adam’s apple” which forced us to get out their Kinyarwanda bible and read the story of the Fall of Man in Genesis 3.  Adam disobeyed God, ate the apple, and was punished.  So the Adam’s apple represents the fruit stuck in his throat.  After I opened the door to teaching my boys English, God started opening doors left and right for opportunities to share biblical truths with them.  I mean, what are you supposed to do when one of them asks you what the word “forsaken” means but turn to Mark 15 and read the account of Jesus’s crucifixion?  Of all of the things I do in Rwanda, my favorite is by far hanging out with “my boys” every Tuesday and Thursday, and had I not opened the door, I wouldn’t have the privilege to share so much life together.

God has also opened another door to me that allows me to use my passion for writing and the English language to tutor two middle school boys whose father works at the US Embassy.  It is a huge blessing to have a supplemental income for the next five months, but come June, I will be living completely off of support again.  I have recently signed on for one more school year at KICS as middle and high school English teacher and will need to raise $10,000 more dollars to continue doing what I do in Rwanda until June 2012.  If you want to contribute to my ministry in Rwanda, you can write a check to Rocky Creek and mention that it is for Kelly in Rwanda and it will help me survive another year.  I would also greatly appreciate your prayers, for my effectiveness in my jobs, my health, and my boys.

Of course after spending an entire year serving in Rwanda, I have hundreds more tales to tell, and I’d love to share them with you.  But more than tell you my stories, I want to encourage you to make the most of every opportunity.  Stop looking for windows to jump out of and just walk through the doors God opens for you.  I promise you won’t be disappointed.