Kelly in Rwanda

Freedom

2011-12-04T10:01:00.001-05:00

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

2011-11-12T14:53:00.002-05:00

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:

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.
We ate Lake Kivu fish (not sure exactly what variety that is) for dinner. The whole things. Heads and tails included. Delicious.
I slept in my hammock overlooking the beautiful lake beneath the rolling hills. Delightful.
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.
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.
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

2011-10-28T15:11:00.001-04:00

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

2011-10-18T09:36:00.000-04:00

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:

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.

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.

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:

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.

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…

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

2011-09-15T02:07:00.000-04:00

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…

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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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

2011-06-23T06:25:00.001-04:00

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!

2011-06-04T13:24:00.000-04:00

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

2011-05-27T05:38:00.000-04:00

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

2011-04-30T02:05:00.000-04:00

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!

2011-03-09T01:39:00.000-05:00

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

2011-02-26T01:22:00.000-05:00

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...

2011-01-23T01:59:00.001-05:00

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

2011-01-16T10:42:00.000-05:00

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

2011-01-03T09:13:00.000-05:00

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.

Malaria Part Two

2010-12-07T03:06:00.002-05:00

I have been out of the hospital for a few weeks now, and as I look back at that experience, it seems so surreal. Yesterday, I pictured myself wasting away in the crisp white sheets of my hospital bed, yellow eyes and skin, attached to my quinine IV, surrounded by all of the apple juice people brought me… and laughed. At the time, it didn’t seem so serious. It was just what I had to do. Now, I realize, it was pretty serious. Dr. Tommy did say I was in serious condition. But in my state, I couldn’t truly comprehend just how serious my condition was.

The only times hospitals have been graced with my presence are the few visits I have made to other ailing people, or the plethora of times I took little boys to the emergency room as receptionist at Camp Ridgecrest for Boys. I have never been for me. And what a first trip to the hospital!

People took VERY good care of me, and for that I am forever grateful. My headmaster took me to the hospital, did all my dealings with the doctor, and came back multiple times to bring me more movies and just to check on me. Two KICS moms saw me in the waiting room when they were bringing their own children to the doctor and ended up bringing me EVERY meal while I was there. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner for 4 days! (Because African hospitals don’t feed you. As a matter of fact, on the first day they gave me some nausea medicine in tablet form, and Ellie asked if they had water for me to take it, and they said, “No water.”) Ellie got me some water and came to keep me company every day. Some KICS teachers brought me books. My roommate, Emily, brought me a hysterical video and homemade cards from her entire 4^th grade class. Jadot brought me more fruit than I could ever hope to consume. Innocent and Emmanuel visited me multiple times and brought me more apple juice than you could shake a stick at. Another KICS mom came and washed my hair in my bathroom sink and French braided it, so I didn’t look like quite as much of a disaster as before. Another KICS mom brought me some tie-dyed socks to cheer me up. The pastor of my church and his daughter, my student, dropped in while they were at the doctor one day. And I’m probably forgetting even more visitors.

While I didn’t have visitors, I watched movies… and the whole first season of Modern Family. I did Sudoku puzzles and crossword puzzles. I slept off and on. The second night in the hospital, I dragged my wheel-less IV stand one meter over to my private bathroom every hour, if you know what I mean. I told my nurse of my issue, and she brought me a container for a sample to run in the lab in the morning. Sure enough, it was a bacterial infection… from something I ate. Probably those two bites of pizza I ate. Seeing as that was all I had eaten in 8 days. The plus side of said infection was that they could just shoot some cipro into my IV and eradicate it rather quickly.

I improved a little every day and was finally released after 4 days. My liver enzymes (normally below 40) were at 299, and so Dr. Tommy put me on bed rest for a week. At least now I could just lie around at home instead of in the hospital. I went to stay at Ellie’s for 4 days, because she has a much more comfortable couch than I AND CNN and MNet on TV! I watched Oprah, Ellen, The Bachelor, etc. for a few days before I went to my uncomfortable couch and my Sudoku puzzles. After one week, I went back to the doctor, and my liver enzymes were down in the 50s. I got to go back to work last week. In the whole month of November, I only worked for 6 days!

I’m STILL not at 100%. I lost 18 pounds and ALL of my energy, so it’s a long recovery. I am slowly by slowly gaining back weight and energy, but sometimes I still go to bed at 7:30. I am looking forward to Bojangle’s and Moe’s and Taco Bell and McDonald’s and Chick-fil-a to help me get back to my normal size when I come home in 12 days!!

I will be in America from December 19 through January 6. Let me know if you want to see me, and I’ll try to make it happen!

Remember, Remember, the Month of November (Part 1)

2010-11-19T01:00:00.002-05:00

So, as you may or may not know, the month of November hasn’t been the healthiest one of my life. I don’t mean I’ve been prematurely eating tons of junk food for the holidays or being lazy and watching movies and not exercising. No. I have been afflicted.

On November 1, I came down with the ol’ strep throat. Strep throat sucks. The last time I came down with it was senior year of high school. I made a doctor’s appointment, then cancelled it, then realized what a mistake I had made canceling it and made it again and prolonged the symptoms. I wandered around my parents’ house spitting in a cup so the saliva didn’t burn my tonsils. I ate cheese grits for the last time in my life as my mom tried to force nutrients that didn’t burn my tonsils down my throat.

This time I spent one sleepless night with a painful throat and then just lay in bed all day with a fever and some white spots on my throat. I had a phone consultation with one of the dad doctors from KICS and took the amoxycilin I brought with me for potential sinus infections (of which I have had zero). It hurt, but I caught it relatively early so it wasn’t a huge deal. I missed two days of school and surrendered control of my PE classes to substitutes, which I don’t particularly enjoy doing. Hopefully they learned how to shoot lay-ups correctly anyway…

Fast-forward one week. On November 8, my roommate Emily came down with some flu-like symptoms. She immediately thought malaria and started a course of Coartem. However, there was a flu-like illness going around at school, so she was convinced she had fallen prey to it and stopped the malaria treatment. She missed 2 days of school.

Then, on the last day of my medicine for the strep throat, November 11, I started burning with fever myself. I barely slept Wednesday night because I was hot. I checked my temperature in the morning and it was a blazing 100.3. That might not sound high to you, but being the cold-hearted person I am, my “normal” body temperature falls around 96.8. So, it was a legit fever. I went to school to tell the headmaster I though I was coming down with what Emily had and after wallowing on the couch in the office for an hour, he sent me home. I spent the day in my bed lying in a pool of sweat from burning with fever. I spent the night in my bed lying in a pool of sweat from burning with fever. I consulted dad doctor who also assumed flu. I spent the next day in my bed lying in a pool of sweat and groaning from fever. Finally, Friday night, my fever reached a whopping 102.3, and I got in the bathtub, still mostly clothed and sprayed cold water on myself to stop the hell-like sensation. Saturday, the doctor dad finally did a house visit and opted for a rapid malaria test, expecting negative results. WRONG! Positive. For multiple strands of the parasite.

So I started a course of Coartem. And Emily restarted a course of Coartem. Apparently we got bit by the same mosquito (as that is how malaria is transmitted). One hour later I vomited for the 5^th time my life. That night we took the next 4 pills. In the morning we took 4 more. Emily improved. Kelly did not. Sunday night I took 4 more pills. Monday morning, doctor dad came for a visit and noticed something strange. My eyes were yellow. Finally, it was time to take me in.

We called the headmaster, and I changed out of my Barrel o’ Monkeys PJ pants and my Cookie Monster shirt into something a little more suitable for public: some brown workout capris and a honey mustard colored t-shirt (not the most flattering outfit for a jaundiced person…). The headmaster picked me from my house and took me to Kigali Adventist Medical Center. I moped and groaned around the premises from the lab to the waiting room to the doctor’s office to the waiting room. I got a blood test and tried (and failed) to give a urine specimen. I finally saw Dr. Tommy who said, “It’s a good thing you brought her in. She is serious!” Serious, but not critical. He said, “the Coartem is obviously not working. Stop taking it. We’ll give you an IV. Stick around for 2 or 3 days.” I sat in the waiting room miserable taking pity from the other waiters while they set up my “temporary” room, as the other ward was full.

As this is already getting quite lengthy, you’ll have to wait until later to read about the stay at the clinic. I know the suspense is killing you, but I’m tired of typing. So there.

Jet-Setting to South Africa

2010-10-28T01:35:00.000-04:00

This past weekend, I had the great pleasure of visiting two former Sonrise students at their new school in Honeydew, South Africa. It was interesting how the trip came about, but I won’t bore you with the details. Basically, it was falsely advertised to me that the price of airfare would be stunningly low. But as we all know, when something seems too good to be true, it probably isn’t true… Long story short, there is a very good reason that Rwanda is currently pushing for improved customer service. Anyway, I bit the bullet and forked out the necessary dough to fly to Johannesburg over my fall break. And I couldn’t have made a better decision!

Now most people around here, when they found out I was going to South Africa for the weekend, had one of two reactions. 1) “By yourself!?!? Be careful!” or 2) “I’m so jealous! What are you going to eat?” I did go by myself, and I was never in harm’s way. And I ate corn flakes. Three times. Now for those of you who don’t live in Rwanda, I’ll just let it be known that Kellogg’s Corn Flakes are available in this country for the low price of 12,500RWF (or nearly 25USD) per box. Needless to say, I haven’t eaten any cereal in the past 10 months.

(Sidenote: I have since eaten cereal in Rwanda thanks to my good friend Hannah from whom I received a box of Quaker Oatmeal Squares, only THE best cereal in the world, today in the mail…)

(Sidenote to the sidenote: If you want to mail me something, like my good friend Hannah did, you can send it to Kelly Simpson, BP 6558, Kigali Rwanda)

Back to South Africa.

African Leadership Academy is an incredibly cool school. It is comprised of 185 of Africa’s top young leaders. Last year 2500 students applied and only 100 were accepted into the rigorous program. I am proud to say that 2 of the first 3 Rwandans ever admitted were my boys Emmanuel and Dieudonne. ALA is much more like a freshman year of college than any high school I have ever seen. It reminded me of watching all of my engineer friends pulling all-nighters and struggling through their freshman years at Clemson. It’s a really hard transition to make from a typical African school to such a rigorous curriculum, but most of the students there are grateful for the amazing preparation they are receiving for American universities and life in general. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for the many incredible kids I met this weekend.

I had an absolute BLAST visiting with my boys all weekend. I attended their classes, ate with them in the dining hall, watched them make their country proud with an intore dance during a cultural exchange event, walked around campus, met their friends and teachers, and sat down for a few chats in between. Dieudonne’s overflowing joy and zeal for life and Emmanuel’s incredible wisdom and poise were just what I needed to refresh me for the rest of my year here in Africa.

Every person I met at ALA was astounded A) that I live in Rwanda and B) that I would fly to South Africa just for a weekend with the sole purpose of visiting my former students. One faculty member came to tell me that Emmanuel looked so much happier all weekend because I came to visit. As I left campus on Monday morning, I could hardly hold back the tears as Emmanuel told me how proud he was to have had a visitor and how loved he felt that I would pay all that money to fly there just to see him. I assure you, it was worth EVERY penny to me, too.

And now for a challenge: Is there someone you love who lives far away from you? Don’t just sit around and contemplate seeing him or her some day; fork out the dough and go see him or her, pronto! I guarantee the time you share and the memories you create will be well worth the money spent. After all, to paraphrase my friend Kelly, I would rather die broke than live lame. And to paraphrase Emmanuel, life is about more than accumulating assets; it is about sharing life.

A Typical Tuesday

2010-10-13T05:28:00.000-04:00

Every morning I wake up before 6:00 and turn off my alarm (which is set for 7:00), and roll out of my (king sized) bed and get dressed.

Then I mosey on out the bedroom door (through the streamers, which my roommates taped up at 2am on my birthday, which yes, was over a month ago)…

Down to the kitchen where I eat some breakfast. Today it was a fried egg and a banana. (Sorry I ate it before I remembered I was documenting my every move and had to pose a different egg with the bunch of bananas.)

I then walk out of my house…

Into the streets of my neighborhood…

With my roommate Kerry...

To school! (This is my “classroom.”)

And this is my classroom.

I start most days in the office hanging out with my best friend Clementine, our amazing receptionist. Unfortunately, I’m only her 4^th best friend (after God, her husband, and her son), but I’m getting over it.

On Tuesdays we have staff devotions before school. This morning was my roommate Kerry’s time to lead devotions. She made me take this photo before she started so I wouldn’t make her nervous as she was speaking.

Now that I’m finished teaching Comparative Governments, I have a new first period class (or task): Reorganizing the teacher resource room. It’s quite the chore, but I kind of like organizing, so it’s a good task for me.

I apologize for not capturing me in action teaching PE. I’m wary of posting photos of students on the Internet, so I’ll just have to let you imagine me playing soccer with the 10^th graders then Chuck Chicken and Hear No Evil, See No Evil with the 6^th graders. After those two classes, it’s time for lunch!

Yummy cheeseburger.

After lunch I played soccer with the 9^th graders. I’m really awful at soccer, as I’ve never played it before in my life, but I must say that my foot-eye coordination has improved drastically over the past two weeks!

After school on Tuesdays, I take Kinyarwanda lessons with a few other teachers.

Joyce, our fearless teacher, is wonderful. Today we learned verb tenses. Eek! Simple present tense, present continuous, near future, far future, near past, and far past. As of now, the only verb I can tell you in all those tenses is to cook, but I’m learning!

After Kinyarwanda, I head out the gate and say “Murabeho!” to William, the friendly guard.

Then I walk through what I’ve nicknamed “Beverly Hills Rwanda”…

Down the Nyarutarama Tennis Club Road…

Until I get to my turn-off which leads to another, much different road…

Past the golf course…

And the cow?!?...

Where I am stalked by this creepy truck (AKA Mark and Griffin) that gives me a ride up to the next main road…

Which I cross to get to the path…

To the road to my boys’ house.

My favorite part of my week and my favorite thing I do in Rwanda is to teach these boys English. You can’t help but fall in love with those big smiles!

Most English lessons turn into impromptu Bible studies which is also cool.

It’s dark by the time I leave the boys’ house and they accompany me down their road (with an incredible view of the city)…

On my way home (sorry I don’t have a picture of me on the moto...), I stopped by the Stop and Shop Market just down the hill from my house to buy some yogurt, chocolate, and biscuits. When I went to check out, they hadn’t any change for me, so I had to purchase another yogurt and a piece of gum, instead. Such is life here in Africa. When I got to my house, the moto didn’t have change either, so I had to go inside and search the house over for 500RWF which was nowhere to be found. So I had to think creatively for the moto driver and give him a 5000 and take a 500 and two 2000s from him. So really he had change, but he didn’t think about using different combinations of bills to make the change… Sorry for the diatribe on change-making; only my fellow Westerners in Rwanda will truly understand.

I got home and ate this for dinner:

Then I took off my shoes and got a nice glimpse of my ankles/feet. While I do have a sweet farmer’s tan, that, my friends, is dirt. Straight up dirt.

I decided maybe it was time for a shower. And I wanted to share with you my favorite part of my shower. My soap holder from T-2000, the Chinese store.

In case you can’t read it clearly, that says: “Blessedness Squirrel:

With incredible magic of the pretty squirrel,

you too will be the best friend

like a lot of many people all over the world.”

After the shower, I ate my Stop and Shop snack and wrote this blog post. Now, tomorrow I will spend literally all day loading the photos so you can see a typical Tuesday in my life. I hope you enjoy it (AKA you better appreciate it)!

Saturday

2010-10-02T05:55:00.000-04:00

5:40- Wake up to the sound of birds screeching outside my window.

5:50- Try my hardest to go back to sleep.

6:00- Keep on trying…

6:15- FINALLY succeed!

8:30- Wake up and grade papers with Kerry.

12:00- Go to town to run some errands.

2:00- Go visit Gisimba orphanage to hang out with some kids.

4:00- Go home.

6:00- Go home and shower. Check kigalilife for the evening’s options.

7:00- Decide I’m too tired to do anything and read a book in bed.

8:00- Fall asleep with my book in my hand…..

Friday

2010-10-01T05:54:00.000-04:00

5:40- Wake up to the sound of birds screeching outside my window.

5:50- Try my hardest to go back to sleep.

6:00- Fail miserably.

6:10- Get up to prepare for the day.

6:40- Eat some breakfast.

7:00- Walk to school with Kerry.

7:05- Catch up with the world’s goings-on on the Internet and prepare for my day’s classes.

8:00- Comparative Governments class.

9:05- Teach nine 10^th graders PE.

10:00- Break time! Watch all the kids play basketball and soccer and four square and jump rope.

10:20- Teach 5^th grade PE.

11:00- Clean up the messes the kids make.

11:15- Lunch time!

2:00- Teach 9^th grade PE.

3:00- Bell rings and the kids disappear. Now I spend the whole afternoon writing lesson plans for Mondays classes which I will give to a substitute, since I have to go to Ruhengeri.

6:00- Go home and shower. Check kigalilife for the evening’s options.

7:30- Meet friends at a restaurant to eat dinner.

10:00- Go to Mama Africa for some karaoke.

12:00- Venture back home to sleep.

Thursday

2010-09-30T05:53:00.000-04:00

5:40- Wake up to the sound of birds screeching outside my window.

5:50- Try my hardest to go back to sleep.

6:00- Fail miserably.

6:10- Get up to prepare for the day.

6:40- Eat some breakfast.

7:00- Walk to school with Kerry.

7:05- Catch up with the world’s goings-on on the Internet and prepare for my day’s classes.

8:00- Comparative Governments class. I’m teaching 10 seniors about British government until the end of September when Ms. Janeczko comes to take over the social studies department.

9:05- Teach nine 10^th graders PE.

10:00- Break time! Watch all the kids play basketball and soccer and four square and jump rope.

10:20- Teach 6^th grade PE.

11:00- Sneak into my classroom to observe the last 15 minutes of geometry class before lunch.

11:15- Hit up the staff lounge for lunch. Since I am free 4^th period, I get to have a long lunch. I end up eating lunch with almost the entire KICS staff as they rotate through the lunch schedule.

1:05- Teach 4^th grade PE.

2:00- Teach 9^th grade PE.

3:00- Bell rings and the kids disappear. SAT prep!

4:30- Go for a run, usually to a friend’s house… hang out. Contemplate running home. Get caught up in conversation. Oh no! It’s dark. Gotta moto home…

7:00- Get home and eat some food.

7:30- Go to school to load the necessary YouTube videos for class tomorrow and plan some lessons and catch up with some folks from home, etc.

10:30- Go to sleep to prepare for my body’s 5:40 wake-up call.

Wednesday

2010-09-29T05:52:00.000-04:00

5:40- Wake up to the sound of birds screeching outside my window.

5:50- Try my hardest to go back to sleep.

6:00- Fail miserably.

6:10- Get up to prepare for the day.

6:40- Eat some breakfast.

7:00- Walk to school with Kerry.

7:05- Catch up with the world’s goings-on on the Internet and prepare for my day’s classes.

8:00- Lead a devotion to start Comparative Governments class. Teach about Britain.

9:00- Teach 10^th grade PE. This week we’re dancing. Next week it’s Frisbee!

10:00- I get a nice long break on Wednesdays…

11:15- Go to the staff room for lunch and stay until the last lunch shift is over at 1:05 and hang out with all of the teachers as they come and go.

1:05- Go back to my classroom to prepare lessons for the next few days.

2:00- Teach 9^th grade PE.

3:00- The final bell rings and I meet with some 11^th-12^th graders for SAT prep. (I’m getting really good at the math section of the SAT.)

4:15- My only free(ish) afternoon/evening! Run to one of my friend’s houses and hang out for a while.

7:15- Go home and eat dinner and relax for a bit before bed.

10:00- Go to sleep to prepare for my body’s 5:40 wake-up call.

Tuesday

2010-09-28T05:51:00.000-04:00

5:40- Wake up to the sound of birds screeching outside my window.

5:50- Try my hardest to go back to sleep.

6:00- Fail miserably.

6:10- Get up to prepare for the day.

6:40- Eat some breakfast.

7:00- Walk to school with Kerry.

7:05- Catch up with the world’s goings-on on the Internet and prepare for my day’s classes.

8:00- Comparative Governments class. I’m teaching 10 seniors about British government until the end of September when Ms. Janeczko comes to take over the social studies department.

9:05- Teach nine 10^th graders PE.

10:00- Break time! Watch all the kids play basketball and soccer and four square and jump rope.

10:20- Teach 6^th grade PE.

11:00- Sneak into my classroom to observe the last 15 minutes of geometry class before lunch.

11:15- Hit up the staff lounge for lunch. Since I am free 4^th period, I get to have a long lunch. I end up eating lunch with almost the entire KICS staff as they rotate through the lunch schedule.

1:05- Teach 4^th grade PE.

2:00- Teach 9^th grade PE.

3:00- Bell rings and the kids disappear.

3:15- Go to Mr. Dennis’s room for Kinyarwanda lessons with Joyce.

4:15- Run to the LEAF house in Kacyiru.

5:00- Teach my boys English.

6:30- Try to escape my English lesson.

6:50- Finally get escorted to the main road by 6 of my boys who empower me to climb the mountain.

7:00- Hop on a moto for home or over to a friend’s house to hang out for a bit…

10:00- Go to sleep to prepare for my body’s 5:40 wake-up call.

Monday

2010-09-27T05:50:00.000-04:00

5:40- Wake up.

5:50- Attempt to go back to sleep.

6:00- Fail.

6:10- Get up and shower and whatnot to get ready for school.

7:10- Hop on a moto to Sonrise.

7:20- Eat some delicious yeast rolls for breakfast.

7:30- Teach English to my first S1 (seventh grade) class.

8:50- Teach English to my second S1 class.

10:10- Break time!

10:30- Teach English to my third S1 class.

11:50- Hang out with some of my girls for a few minutes.

12:30- Head back to town on a moto.

1:00- Hop on a bus to Kigali.

3:00- Arrive in Kigali and run a few errands on my way back to school. You know, stop by the post office to see if my package is there. It’s not. Check and see if my dress is ready at the tailor. It’s not. Go to Nakumatt to buy some flour. “It is finished.”

3:45- Arrive at KICS for the tail end of the middle/high school staff meeting.

4:00- Plan the rest of the week in my classroom.

6:00- Go home and open the fridge to see what Germaine cooked for us. Pop it in the microwave and eat it on the stairs (as the light in our living/dining room doesn’t work…).

6:30- Spend the rest of the evening relaxing, hanging out with my awesome roommates, etc.

9:30- Go to sleep to prepare for the fact that I’m going to wake up in T minus 8 hours.

Sunday

2010-09-26T05:49:00.000-04:00

5:40- Wake up to the sound of birds screeching outside my window.

5:50- Try my hardest to go back to sleep.

6:00- Fail miserably.

6:10- Get up and shower and whatnot to prepare for the day.

6:40- Eat some breakfast.

7:00- Go to school to take advantage of the free Internet with no one else around to steal the bandwidth.

10:00- Go to church at Christ’s Church in Rwanda (CCR). My favorite thing about CCR is that we sing songs in English, Swahili, Kinyarwanda, and Lingala.

12:00- Walk home and grab a quick bite to eat.

12:30- Walk down the hill to a moto-taxi to ride to the bus station.

12:45- Attempt to purchase a bus ticket for the next bus to Ruhengeri only to have the woman behind the counter try to make me feel stupid by speaking the time of my ticket in Kinyarwanda and subsequently lie to me about the time of departure of the next bus which isn’t full.

12:50- Sit sulkily on the steps at the bus station, fuming about the 4:00 bus ticket I hold in my hand.

1:00- Get out a book to read to pass the time.

1:20- A ticket taker comes and exchanges my ticket for the next bus: 1:30!

1:30- The bus departs for Ruhengeri. I will spend the next two hours either listening to my iPod to drown out the rest of the world, taking a nap, or grading papers for my classes on Monday.

3:30- Arrive in Ruhengeri and moto to Sonrise to hang out for the afternoon.

3:45- Hang out with my girls at Sonrise all afternoon.

6:00- Eat the beans and rice I’ve been missing out on since I moved to Kigali.

7:00- Head to the house to hang out with Betsy, Anna, and Griffin for the evening.

9:30- Go to sleep in the other bed in my old bedroom.

A Week in the Life...

2010-09-25T11:48:00.000-04:00

Over the course of the next week, I am going to share with you the typical daily goings-on in my life, one day at a time. I say typical, but let’s be serious… there is nothing typical about my life!

I will write longer more detailed blog posts on specific activities from my schedule if you let me know which ones you are most interested in.

Changes...

2010-09-12T02:58:00.000-04:00

Many of you know this already, but for those of you who don't, here are the recent changes in my life that have kept me way too busy to write a blog post.... But soon I'll give you a glimpse into my life as a city girl!

I have been teaching 7^th grade English and literature at Sonrise High School in Musanze, Rwanda since January. I also work on SAT and TOEFL prep with the older students to prepare them to apply to universities in the US. I am also constantly approached by students to help them with various other things: posting their dancing videos to YouTube, helping revise an essay for a competition, advising them on typical teenager issues, even finding a place for one of my orphaned girls to live during school breaks. Every day is definitely an adventure! I have grown to know and love many, many students.

I have also had the pleasure of developing relationships with many other people: other ex-pats who are working or volunteering in various capacities around the country, the teachers at Sonrise, the waiters at the restaurants we frequent, a colony of visual artists, even the Regional Police Commander! It is these relationships that have sucked me into the vacuum that is Rwanda.

I know you were all expecting me to come home for good in November, but this beautiful country and its people continue to beckon me. I have been offered the chance to teach in Rwanda in a different capacity for the next school year and accepted the task wholeheartedly! In August, I started to split my responsibilities between Sonrise High School and Kigali International Community School (KICS). KICS is an international school that serves mostly the children of missionaries and other cross-cultural workers but also admits Rwandese students. I am having a blast teaching PE to students from dozens of different countries! Upon the completion of the Sonrise school year in October, I will be full-time at KICS until at least June 2011.

While it is difficult to leave my precious children at Sonrise, I am very excited about living in the “big city” and teaching very small, diverse classes. My sphere of influence has increased dramatically, and I look forward to learning even more about myself, Rwanda, and the world in general.

Number One: Food Related Health Problems

2010-08-14T12:18:00.000-04:00

We had the pleasure of attending Redeemer Church of Dubai while we were in town, and it was there that we learned a disturbing fact. The pastor of the church informed us that 2/3 of the children of Dubai suffer from diabetes. There is so much available for them to eat that they have eaten themselves diabetic. The excess of Dubai often bothered us. We would see often something luxurious, think “cooooooool,” then remember where we came from.

We came from a country where probably 2/3 of the children are suffering from malnutrition, from not having enough food. Most people live on less than one dollar a day. Beggars abound. People die of malaria, a preventable and curable disease. Poverty is rampant. Development is on the rise. Hope is in the air. But life in Rwanda is still life in the third world.

While our trip to Dubai was a resounding success and a welcome break from the real world, I can’t help but be humbled by the huge smiles on the faces of the millions of Rwandans I see every day who are truly happy. We all know that money can’t buy happiness, and I have never believed that more than I do now, after coming home (to lovely, little Rwanda) from lavish, luxurious, Dubai.

Number Two: Speed of Development

2010-08-13T12:17:00.000-04:00

Dubai and Rwanda are amazing feats of development in the past 15ish years. Fifteen years ago, Dubai was the desert. Rwanda was coming out of one of the bloodiest wars in the history of the planet.

Today, Dubai is a HUGE city, home to the tallest building in the world. Many, many international companies have offices in the “Free Zone” in Dubai. You can literally buy anything you could ever want in any shop or mall in Dubai. I can’t imagine a city more developed than Dubai.

Rwanda is safe and peaceful and well on its way to becoming the Telecommunications hub of East Africa. Walking the streets of Rwanda today, it is impossible to think that 16 years ago no one left their house for fear of being slaughtered by machete. The marketplaces are bustling, there are great buildings and banks and co-operatives and restaurants.

While Rwanda is still not a developed nation, the speed of its progress astounds me. I didn’t think I could possibly be more amazed at speed of development…until I saw Dubai.

Number Three: Shopping

2010-08-12T12:16:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time I told you how shopping in the US and Rwanda were very different. Now I’m here to tell you how shopping in Rwanda and Dubai are very similar. There are great little shops and markets (souks) all throughout Dubai where you are expected to bargain for a good price. You can get anything from spices to electronics to Pashminas to gold at really good prices. You just have to have some bargaining skills. Anna has those. If you ever want to bargain for a good deal, I’d suggest bringing Anna along.

Another similarity in these shopping experiences is the people who come out of the woodwork to offer you their goods. In Rwanda you never have a clue what’s coming… a wallet, some rope, apples, maps, pots, sunglasses… In Dubai, you know exactly what’s coming. Pashmina, handbags, Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, watches, sunglasses… I did get a Pashmina and a “Chanel” watch, but typically my response to these guys was the same as my response to the Rwandan peddlers (only in English rather than Kinyarwanda).

While shopping in the streets of Dubai is practically the same as shopping in the streets of Rwanda, the shopping malls that Dubai are known for are COMPLETELY different. Instead of the fake handbags, watches, and sunglasses, they have the real deal. You walk through the mall and see Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Givenchy, Chanel, along with hundreds of other stores I’ve never heard of. There are literally 14 shopping malls, the largest of which has something like 1200 stores. One has an indoor ski slope. One has an aquarium (where you can pay to scuba dive). All of them have more stores and restaurants than you can shake a stick at. I could afford only GAP, H&M, Forever21, and the sales racks at that…and McDonald’s. You could spend days perusing the malls and still miss ¾ of the stores. It is quite an experience and one that you can’t miss if you go to Dubai.

Number Four: Blonde Hair Attention

2010-08-11T12:15:00.001-04:00

Anna has long, beautiful blonde hair. It serves as a magnet to Rwandans and Arabs alike. In Rwanda we get lots of attention because we are white. In Dubai there are lots of white looking people, but not so many blondes.

Here’s a story of something that happened in Dubai that could just as easily happen in Rwanda.

One day we were sitting on a bench waiting for a bus when a young boy and his mother walked by. They quickly turned around, and the boy came running for Anna. The mom asked if she could take their picture. Anna obliged. The boy was happy. The End.

Moral of the story is, if you have blonde hair and hate attention, dye it before you come to Rwanda. If you love attention, dye your hair blonde before you come to Rwanda.

Dubai is way more used to tourists, so don’t worry about hair dye before you visit. And if you’re worried when you get there, everything in the world is available in Dubai, so you can just buy it in a store on any street corner.

Number Five: Dryness

2010-08-10T11:21:00.000-04:00

Maybe this similarity is a bit of a stretch, as it is not ALWAYS dry in Rwanda. During rainy season it’s actually QUITE wet, but at this time of year, Dubai and Rwanda are both dry, dry, dry.

Rwanda is dry and dusty and gives you black snot when you walk outside for extended periods of time.

Dubai is in the middle of the desert and always dry and hot, hot, hot.

That’s about as far as this similarity goes, so I will take this opportunity to enlighten you on our desert safari experience. If you ever make it to Dubai (which I would highly recommend), you HAVE to go on a desert safari. We rode in Land Cruisers and sand bashed in the dunes. It is quite a thrilling ride, I must say.

After the sand bashing, we parked at camp and rode some camels.

We got Henna tattoos on our feet.

We tried on Arabian traditional dress.

We were then entertained by a man who spun and spun and spun doing amazing feats of dress and undress all the while. He would have been a fabulous contra dancing partner!

After the pre-dinner show we had an Arabian BBQ feast which was DELISH.

After dinner we were entranced by an Arabian belly dancer.

After a fabulous day in the desert, we returned to the big city.

Number Six: Bus Rides

2010-08-09T11:11:00.000-04:00

Anyone who has ridden a bus in a foreign country will tell you what an experience it is. (Don’t believe me, just ask my friend Rachel

YOWZA! The result of her attempt to leave Kigali by bus two weeks ago… Don’t worry, She had a nice safe flight to Nairobi the next day!)

Bus wrecks aside, the bus riding experiences in the UAE and Rwanda share some similarities.

First, the duration of a bus ride between Dubai and the nearest city (Abu Dhabi) is the exact same as a bus ride from Kigali to practically any other city in Rwanda. You leave one city, ride for 2 hours through vast nothingness (desert in UAE, rolling green hills in Rwanda) and arrive in another city.

Second, the price of a two-hour bus ride is very inexpensive. 15AED (4USD) from Abu Dhabi to Dubai. 1700RWF (3USD) from Kigali to Musanze.

Third, more often than not, the person sitting next to you will do something endlessly entertaining. In order to illustrate this point, I will share with you a brief anecdote from a past Rwandan bus ride and a brief anecdote from our bus ride to Abu Dhabi.

Once upon a time, I boarded a bus in Kigali. I took the very back window seat on one side. Anna took the very back window seat on the other side. Three very smartly dressed Rwandan women with very limited English sat in the three seats between us (one of them tried her hardest to switch seats with me, but I prefer being squished between a person and a window rather than a person and another person and respectfully declined (in English) her request (in Kinyarwanda)). After this woman accepted her fated seat, she decided we should be friends. Her name was Grace. She combed all of her friends’ hair and then did the same to mine. She attempted to style my hair just like Anna’s was styled 4 seats over. She obviously didn’t have much experience with Muzungu hair, but I let her have her fun. When I busted out my iPod a few minutes into the voyage, she decided she needed to hear the music as well and took the ear bud from my right ear and placed it in her left ear. She rocked out to The Avett Brothers, Old Crow Medicine Show, and the like before she started requesting T.I., Michael Jackson, and Rihanna, none of whom I could oblige her with. When we arrived in Musanze, it was all I could do not to laugh at the ridiculousness that was my bus ride.

Once upon a time Anna and I boarded a bus in Dubai. The bus driver swiftly forced the men sitting a few rows back to move to the back of the bus as buses in the UAE are segregated by gender. Women and children only in the front of the bus! As Anna and I were about to sit together, a woman dove from her seat next to a man and stole the window seat. So, I sat next to a man (gasp!) and Anna sat next to said woman. She didn’t speak a lick of English. At one point in the trip, Anna applied some makeup, and the woman stole it away from her to write down every word on the compact in her little notebook. Later she apparently got a whiff of something smelly and decided to cover it up with her spray deodorant. She sprayed it on herself and into the air and about gagged me across the aisle. I never did smell the “bad” smell, but the “good” one sure was strong! Just as we were about to get off the bus, she gave Anna not one, but two pieces of apparently foul tasting candy as a token of her appreciation for having such a pleasant seat companion.

Moving outside of your cultural comfort zone and onto a bus in a foreign country is something everyone should experience at some point in life. Just steer clear of Kampala Coach if you’re traveling in East Africa!

Number Seven: Good Indian Food

2010-08-08T10:52:00.000-04:00

As you may know, my absolute favorite food in the entire world is a good cookie. Sugar, chocolate chip, snickerdoodle… you name it, I love it. Now as difficult as it may be to believe, cookies are NOT readily available for purchase in Rwanda. And as I’ve mentioned to you before, variety is also not readily available for consumption in Rwanda. But one thing that is readily available is the best Indian food I’ve ever consumed. Chicken Tikka Masala from Khana Khazana in Kigali is enough to turn even the worst of days into the best day of my life every time I eat it.

There are LOTS of Indian immigrants in Dubai and thus plenty of Indian restaurants to choose from. Along with the opportunity to consume McDonald’s,

Burger King, Taco Bell, Chili’s, and Dunkin’ Donuts in Dubai, I also had the treat of some good Chicken Tikka Masala at a little local establishment. It was ALMOST as good as the Indian food in Kigali.

(Some other notable eating experiences in Dubai: 3 separate Lebanese feasts,

an Arabian BBQ, sushi, pad Thai, and Cold Stone Creamery cake batter ice cream with chocolate chip cookie dough to name a few.)

Number Eight: Dress

2010-08-07T10:41:00.000-04:00

Since the UAE is an Islamic country, you see a lot of traditional dress in Dubai. Men wear long white dresses and white or plaid headdresses. Women wear long black dresses and cover their heads and sometimes faces in black fabric as well. These things all have names, but as I said two days ago, Arabic is difficult and even though I heard the names of each article of clothing numerous times, none of them stuck. Anna and I donned these outfits on a couple different occasions. Once for fun on our desert safari and once in order to be dressed suitably to visit the 3^rd largest mosque in the world (with the largest chandelier in the world).

While most people dress very western in Rwanda, there are many women who wear beautiful long dresses made of very colorful African fabrics. The traditional formal attire of Rwandan women is equally as beautiful and equally as long.

The similarity of dress comes in the modesty of both cultures. The only knees I have seen in 7 months are my knobby ones in the shower and a select few tourists in both Dubai and Rwanda who aren’t exactly culturally sensitive in their packing for vacation.

Number Nine: Nokia Mobile Phones

2010-08-06T10:40:00.000-04:00

In your land of iPhones and Androids, you may not have as much appreciation for this similarity as I do, but maybe if you take yourself back in time about 12 years, you’ll understand better. Remember your first cell phone ever? Not the car-phone-in-a-bag or the Zack Morris gigantor-phone, but that first Nokia, you know, with the Snake Xenia game to play when you were bored (or wanting to show off the fact that you had a cell phone). Now do you recall the standard ringtone? If not, go to Dubai, or come to Rwanda. You’ll hear it everyday and everywhere. In Dubai I was constantly restraining myself from reaching for my cell phone on the bus, in the malls, on the streets, etc. Every time I heard that chime, I wanted to read my text message. Unfortunately, Rwandan cell service doesn’t quite stretch to the Middle East…

While many people in Dubai (and even Rwanda) have Blackberries and iPhones, it is obvious that Nokia dominates the cell phone market in both lands. There are many different types of Nokia phones, but I am of course partial to my version with the built-in flashlight and endlessly entertained by Snake Xenia, Bounce, and Nature Park. While I had no service in Dubai, I regularly utilized the converter function on my phone to convert both currency and temperature. (Did you know that 47 degrees Celsius is a blazing 116.6 degrees Fahrenheit?)

Number Ten: Foreign Language

2010-08-05T10:39:00.001-04:00

The official language of the United Arab Emirates is Arabic. The first official language of the Republic of Rwanda is Kinyarwanda. These are two of the most difficult languages for a native English speaker to learn. I am definitely a word person, but even after 7 months in Rwanda, I still only barely follow the simplest of Kinyarwanda conversations. The only conversation I can semi-successfully have (besides “How are you?” “I’m fine”) is the one I have while bargaining with moto-taxis (I’ll provide a sample conversation translated to English so you can follow it).

Me: Union Trade Center

Moto-taxi driver: Five hundred.

Me: No! Three hundred.

Moto-taxi driver: (rambling in Kinyarwanda)

Me: (making noises like I am following what he’s saying)

Moto-taxi driver: Four hundred.

Me: You’re expensive! Three hundred.

Moto-taxi driver: Okay…

Me: Let’s go!

In Dubai, the only word I learned in Arabic was “hello,” which sounds strikingly like goodbye in Kinyarwanda. Not knowing Arabic is not a big deal in Dubai, however, as only 25% of the population is local. The remaining 75% are expatriates and speak mostly English.

Rwanda is pushing for everyone to learn English, but it is a slow and grueling process. I’m trying to expedite this process, at least for the students who fall under my tutelage. Slowly by slowly Rwandans will learn English and be able to communicate on a more global scale.

Top Ten Similarities between Dubai and Rwanda

2010-08-04T10:36:00.001-04:00

During our three-week vacation from teaching at Sonrise, Anna and I decided to take a little holiday…to Dubai! Dubai is an incredibly fascinating place, and I would highly recommend a visit there to anyone. The best description I can give you is that Dubai = (Disney World + Los Angeles + Las Vegas + Manhattan)^infinity and beyond. It is different than any other place in the entire world.

Back in April, I authored a series of blog posts on the differences between Rwanda and the US. In that same vein, I want to share with you the top ten similarities between Dubai and Rwanda from the eyes of an American.

While I have been relatively silent as of late here in the blogosphere, you can rest assured that you will have a fresh new blog post to read every day for the next ten days if you so desire!

Keep your eyes peeled for number ten!

A Fun Little Photo Shoot

2010-07-16T13:01:00.000-04:00

So maybe you remember me mentioning getting a pair of pants painted from a previous blog post. You probably thought, she can't be serious. Well, I was serious. Thank you, Innocent! Here's a fun little photo shoot Tom did with me in his backyard in my new painted jeans. I don't really know how to behave in a photo shoot, hence the awkward faces in most of the photos. I also don't really know how to re-situate photos in blogger, hence the awkward photo placement.

Apparently the "hands on hips" pose is a favorite of mine. I might need to diversify if I choose to pursue a career in modeling. (Don't worry. I'm not going to pursue a career in modeling... And I know you were worried...)

A Thrilling Final Exam

2010-07-09T12:18:00.000-04:00

I recently gave my senior one (7^th grade) students their final English exam for the second term. The final question read as follows: “Write a paragraph of at least 6 sentences about a famous person. Make sure your subjects and verbs agree and that you punctuate your sentences correctly.” I think you will be amused by the variety of the list and the frequency of certain famous people. Following is the list of all people who were written about more than once (along with the number of times they were mentioned):

Michael Jackson 23

Nelson Mandela 23

Gisa Fred Rwigema 18

Famous People in general 13

Off topic 11

Gandhi 8

Paul Kagame 5

Bob Marley 4

Barack Obama 4

Chris Brown 3

Jesus 3

Martin Luther King 3

King Mutara III Rudahigwa 2

Ben Carson 2

Abe Lincoln 2

Christiano Ronaldo 2

Neil Armstrong 2

Some other notable people I read about include 2Pac, Miley Cyrus, Oprah, President George W. Bush, Swarzenegar Anord, Jesse Jackson, Roald Dahl, and Black Obama (not to be confused with Barack Obama).

Clearly, however, the most fascinating paragraphs centered around the “King of Pop,” Michael Jackson (or if you prefer Mickel Jackson, Meckeal Jackson, or my personal favorite: Mick Jason). My students have baffled me. I’m quite confused about where he was born. Was it Los Angeles? Chicago? South Africa? Kenya? And when was he born? 1953? 1958? 1954? 1959? And his death date? Was it 2008? 10 January 2010? 25/05/2009? June 25, 2009? Most perplexing, however, is the cause of his death. I always thought it had something to do with a drug overdose, but maybe it was nose cancer after all. Or a stroke. Or skin cancer. Or maybe he was poisoned.

Here are some of my favorite sentences from the paragraphs:

“In America there was a good dancer called MICHAEL Jackson in a small town called CHICAGO.”

“Before he was born with a long nose then they cut it off and replaced it with a plastic nose.”

“When the machine transformed him, it didn’t transform his nose. Then they gave him another nose after he got nose cancer.”

“Although he was very handsome, he had blood cancer.”

“Another thing is that he is the first black who became a white man.”

“And he died in 2009 of poisoning him but they don’t know they are still searching and they said that his maid was a Rwandan.”

“But some people said that he is alive and others said that he died.”

I do not share this with you to mock my students but to offer some insight into life outside of the good ol’ ethnocentric US of A.

Obviously, the American influence in Rwanda is enormous. I’ve been given the opportunity to be the only picture of the US that many of these students will ever have outside of pop culture. What pressure! I can only hope that I can help diminish some misconceptions.

Another lesson I think we can learn is the importance of filtering the information that constantly bombards us. You can’t believe everything you hear! Sometimes your brain is a good enough filter, but sometimes it’s not. When in doubt, look it up! We’ve been blessed (and arguably cursed) to have the worldwide web at our fingertips nearly 24/7. And while we must be careful utilizing it, it can be a valuable resource for deciphering the truth from the lies that we regularly face.

One thing I’ve learned since moving to Rwanda six months ago is the universality of practically everything. Human nature is human nature everywhere. Rwandans are just as obsessed with juicy gossip as their American counterparts. It don’t matter if you’re black or white. And stories get twisted as they are passed from person to person causing gross misunderstandings that can get pretty ugly. Chances are, Michael Jackson misconceptions are not going to cause much strife around these parts, but if I do recall, some terrible things have happened here (and everywhere else in the world) because of “mere” misunderstandings.

Finally, notice, if you will, that tied with Michael Jackson at the top of that list is Nelson Mandela. These kids admire courage, and that is encouraging. In a land where courage will take you further than musical talent, I can only hope that my students will start with the man in the mirror to embrace the positive traits of their so-called heroes and heal the world, to make it a better place!

Sometimes I Forget Why I Love This Place

2010-06-19T04:43:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I forget why I love this place. You know, like when the power goes out just as I’m getting to the best part of a movie. Or when the Internet goes out just as I’m FINALLY catching up with a good friend from home. Or when it starts raining dogs and cats just as I am getting ready to go somewhere. Or when I eat something from a restaurant I go to all the time and wake up puking my guts out at 3 o’ clock in the morning. And then it happens again the very next week. And the next. Or when all I want for dinner is a fish brochette, and I go to a restaurant to find that the fish is “finished.” Or when my entire body is infested with ringworm and then I go for a run for the first time in ages and I get nice and sweaty and come home to find out that there is no water to wash off the stench which inevitably means ten or so more ringworm lesions will pop up on my body causing me more itchy, sleepless nights which in turn give me a cold which makes me grumpy, and no one wants to be around me when I’m grumpy. Really, though…you don’t.

But then I remember the contagious laughter of the senior class for whom I performed my rendition of a popular Rwandan pop song, “Igipimo.” And the children who run barefoot down the road with me to keep me company while I run. And the five magnificent volcanoes that tower over my town. And the hugs I get from my students everyday at school. And the thousand lush, green hills that surround me. And the enlightening conversations I have with some of the most incredible people in the world. And the sweet smile of my house girl who has faced more adversity in her life than any of you could even begin to fathom, yet cleans our house with infectious bliss day in and day out. And the beautiful babies tied on the backs of their hard working mothers. And the joyous singing and dancing of children at an orphanage. And the cute little geckos that scamper over the walls. And the sweetest little bananas and the most luscious pineapples and the most delicious avocados in the world. And the inspiring artists and the burgeoning art scene. And the fact that I can wear my Chacos literally everyday. And the smiles and smiles and smiles that go on for… kilometers.

You Go, Girls!

2010-05-30T15:23:00.000-04:00

This week has been a loooooooong week. Anna went home for some weddings leaving me as the lone Muzungu at Sonrise, and this week was my week on duty. That basically means I have to be at school until 9pm for the whole week, and be at school on Saturday and Sunday. It was quite long, but also a very rewarding week. The highlight was definitely today when I got to accompany 23 girls from Sonrise to a celebration where they were awarded for scoring high on their national exams. There were about 50 girls recognized in the Northern Province, and I’m the proud teacher of 22 of them! Here’s a little recap of my day for you:

6:00 – My alarm clock goes off, you know, just in case they actually pick me up at 7am as they said.

7:27 – My teacher friend calls to tell me to walk to the courthouse to meet the bus.

7:30 – I arrive at the courthouse and carry on a conversation with Jean Claude who apparently has mistaken me for Kim, another Muzungu in town (we look nothing alike).

7:43 – Teacher friend calls to say there’s no room for me in the bus, but I stay at the courthouse to give them my camera, anyway.

7:57 – The bus arrives, and they decide to squeeze 5 (though it’s not really squeezing when it’s 7^th grade girls) girls in the back seat to break the law to allow me to come along for the festivities.

8:00 – We stop by the bus station to service the bus.

8:03 – Depart the bus station.

8:34 – The first girl pukes.

8:39 – Several girls are feeling a little carsick, so we pull over and rearrange seats so that the sick ones don’t puke on other people.

8:45 – The second girl pukes.

8:47 – We reach the Gakenke district and stop to ask for directions to the ceremony.

8:53 – Head down the road to the field where the ceremony will take place.

8:56 – Girl #3 pukes.

9:00 – We arrive at the destination and get the girls all seated in their special seats and signed in to receive their awards.

9:30 – The ceremony begins! Only 1.5 hours late! For the next 54 or so minutes, we watched various dance troupes do various traditional dances.

10:24 – The emcee interviews a male teacher, a female teacher, a mother, a father, a high school boy, a high school girl, a primary school boy, and a primary school girl. She asks them what causes the gap between boys and girls in education. The female teacher noted the fact that girls are expected to do chores at home and thus have no time for revising. The high school boy mentioned the fact that girls are distracted for up to two weeks per month by menstruation (to which my male teacher friends responded, “That is so true! He really has a point!”). The primary boy said that when girls fall behind and ask boys for help, the boys say, “I’ll only help you if you’ll be my girlfriend,” and then the girl is distracted by the boy and thus never gets the academic help she was seeking. These are the only answers which got a reaction from the audience and thus the only ones which I had translated.

10:56 – Finally, the moment we’ve all been waiting for! The girls receive their gifts: a duffle bag, 4 dictionaries, an atlas, a mathematics set, a calculator, a watch, and 20,000RWF!

11:38 – Some women who care for orphans in the area were also recognized and given a cow as a gift.

12:01 – Representatives of the Inbuto Foundation brought gifts for the mayors, the governor, the first lady, and the president.

12:05 – The governor of the Northern Province gives his address.

12:26 – A crazy little man riles up the crowd, and the girls go dance in the field.

12:30 – Group photo time.

12:34 – We are finally dismissed, and then the girls finally see what I mean when I tell them that people stare at Muzungus. As the lone Muzungu among thousands of Rwandans, I got plenty of stares.

12:54 – We depart for Musanze.

1:42 – We arrive at Vision2020 for a good ol’ Rwandan buffet lunch. It was QUITE a treat for the girls! And they totally deserved it for being so diligent in their studies. I am so proud of them all!

2:43 – We take a group photo at Vision2020 and board the bus for Sonrise.

2:47 – The fourth girl pukes.

2:50 – We arrive at school and get the girls all their stuff stowed away in the Discipline Master’s office so no one will steal all their hard earned prizes.

3:22 – I ride the bus back to town with a girl who is going to the clinic tomorrow in Kigali.

3:25 – We get off the bus and meet her mother who invites me to her house.

3:30 – I visit with the family, see the family photo album, watch her little brother sing and dance my new favorite Rwandan song (Igipimo… I’ll sing it for you sometime if you Skype me!), drink Fanta, and watch random American music videos.

5:00 – I arrive home and finally get my first chance to relax and to update my blog in over a week!

I LOVE My New Painting!

2010-05-21T13:59:00.000-04:00

Just wanted to share my new painting with you all. Innocent is one of the self-trained artists at Ivuka Arts, and I love love love his work.

Next up, some sweet painted jeans like his! Gotta go brave the clothing stores soon to buy a pair to paint!

RIIIIIIING...RIIIIIIIIING...RIIIIIIIIING... Hello? Is that you Worm?

2010-05-13T11:56:00.000-04:00

Today, in lieu of a typical blog post, I would like to share with you a little playlist I created that does a pretty good job at describing the last week or so here in Musanze. If I knew how (and had fast enough internet), I would link the songs to actual music, but alas I neither know how nor have fast enough internet. Listening to the songs is unnecessary, however, as I chose them based solely on their titles. Not only will this give you a picture of my week, but it will also give you a glimpse into my iTunes library, and thus my mind. Yikes! Enjoy!

1. Nasty Girl - Destiny's Child
2. Should've Known Better - Nickel Creek
3. Karma - Alicia Keys
4. Can't Touch This - Vanilla Ice
5. Dark Circles - Bela Fleck and the Flecktones
6. Cover Me - Jo Dee Messina
7. The Sharing Song - Jack Johnson
8. I'm Not Alone (Calvin Harris cover) - Mumford & Sons
9. Catch My Disease - Ben Lee
10. And It Spread - The Avett Brothers
11. Another One Bites the Dust - Queen
12. Help! - The Beatles
13. We're All In This Together - Old Crow Medicine Show
14. Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes - Beck
15. You'll Get Through This - Martina McBride
16. Don't Want You Back - Backstreet Boys

Disclaimer: Don't you worry; no one's dying of any terrible illness. Those dark circles that cover me are just a little (or a lot, actually) friendly tinea corporis. That's right; there's a fungus among us. We're being treated and improving slowly by slowly (that's Rwandan for slowly but surely).

Number One: Chances of Meeting Famous People

2010-04-29T06:00:00.001-04:00

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

2010-04-27T06:00:00.000-04:00

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

2010-04-26T06:00:00.001-04:00

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

2010-04-25T06:00:00.002-04:00

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

2010-04-24T06:00:00.001-04:00

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

2010-04-23T06:00:00.001-04:00

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

2010-04-22T06:00:00.001-04:00

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

2010-04-20T13:42:00.000-04:00

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

2010-04-20T06:00:00.002-04:00

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

2010-04-19T06:00:00.000-04:00

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

2010-04-18T06:00:00.000-04:00

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

2010-04-17T05:06:00.000-04:00

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

2010-04-15T01:31:00.000-04:00

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

2010-04-06T17:12:00.000-04:00

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!

Way to Use Your Head!

2010-03-26T17:05:00.000-04:00

My main responsibility here in Rwanda is to teach English to some of the greatest kids in the world. I try to cram their heads full of useful information. Sometimes I think their heads might explode. Like this week, for example: exams started yesterday, and they will be finished next Thursday. My children have SEVENTEEN exams in six days. Count them: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17 exams. Their heads are filled with little tidbits of chemistry, math, Christian religious education, entrepreneurship, physics, English, French, Kiswahili, Kinyarwanda, leadership skills, literature, biology, fine arts, political education, history, geography, and computers. Can you even begin to fathom the stress they feel in their little heads?

While some of my students take such a great institution as Sonrise High School for granted, most of them are quite grateful for their educations. I hope to instill in all of them an appreciation for the blessing of a good education and to enable them to rely on their own heads to succeed in life. I pray they will utilize their heads and their education to become things like teachers, doctors, pilots, and business people who will use their heads everyday to better themselves and their country.

On my two-mile walk to school this morning, I snapped a few pictures of the locals. Some were children on their way to school. Some were children who work rather than going to school. Some were grown-ups doing their daily chores. Some were grown-ups headed to work. While they may or may not have had the blessing of a good education, they all had one thing in common: they all knew how to use their heads.

So whether these people use their heads to solve the development problems of their third-world country or to carry their well-toiled-after goods to market or to come up with major medical breakthroughs or to eke out a living to feed their families, I admire each and every hard-working Rwandan person I run across in my daily life. I’d like to propose a toast in honor of each and every one of these beautiful people. If you will all please raise your glasses with me….

"To using your head!"

“To using your head!”

“To using your heads!”

Another Visual

2010-03-21T06:11:00.000-04:00

Click below to see the newest video I made to meet the B2R Borrowed Talent and see what Rwanda has meant to us so far!

B2R Borrowed Talent

Enjoy!

The End... for now.

2010-03-12T02:35:00.000-05:00

Thursday came and went with no sign of laptops but many phone calls from John Isaac. He had promised the day before to call me four times a day. Once in the morning to see how the night was, once in the afternoon to wish me a good appetite, once in the evening to see how the day was, and once at night to wish me a good night. He actually called five times. We spoke to Rogers who was hopeful that the computers would show up in the evening, but Anna and Peyton still went to sleep laptopless.

I received a phone call from an ecstatic Anna on Friday morning while I was at school and she was on her way to Kigali. She said that John Isaac had called and he had her laptop in hand and that everything was still on it! He described to her everything on her desktop and she was overjoyed to know that all of her files were still there. He called me later and played me some music that was on her computer to prove to me as well that her laptop had not been cleared. We communicated with him all day and found that he had retrieved all of our belongings and turned them in to the police. What an angel!

Friday evening I received a phone call from Anna who was in Kigali making sure we were at home because Rogers was coming to hand deliver all of our belongings. Shortly after I hung up with her, the police truck pulled into our driveway. Rogers brought in Peyton’s backpack filled with various belongings of ours. We spent the next hour and a half rejoicing over the recovered possessions and building an even deeper relationship with the Regional Commander. I showed him pictures of my family and pictures of my favorite places in the US from my road trip last summer. While we are still missing Griffin’s iTouch and Peyton’s digital camera, we were overjoyed to receive all of our precious pictures, music, and documents on our practically untouched laptops. Our computers have now been to more countries than we have, but they are all safely back in our arms.

A few days later, Anna received a call from Rogers about some more of the missing items. Griffin’s iTouch had been recovered! Rogers delivered it to Anna and shared an interesting story about the last missing item: Peyton’s camera. Apparently, Jimmy bought it from someone in Musanze then lent it to his friend so she could take pictures at a wedding that Saturday. At the wedding, the woman’s purse with the stolen camera inside was itself stolen! So now instead of just one robbery investigation, there are two. We are not sure we will ever see the camera again, but then again, we were pretty certain our computers were never to be seen again as well. One thing we have definitely learned is that there is ALWAYS hope.

At one point during our crazy day, John Isaac asked us if we prayed before we went to bed the night before. We all assured him that we had, and he informed us that he was the answer to our prayers. After sharing the story with the teachers at Sonrise, we heard many stories of the prayers they had prayed for our things and us and were overwhelmed by the answered prayers. Miracles do still happen. I told a student the story, and he said, “Things like that happen as a testimony to God.” Many people wonder how people can see God’s beautiful creation and not believe in God, but I must ask, how can you hear a story as absurd as this and not believe in God? Thank you God for showing us that You truly are capable of absolutely anything. Even recovering thousands of dollars of goods stolen from a little house in Musanze, Rwanda from the Congo, one of the most corrupt and dangerous countries in the world via one of the few goodhearted men left in this world. All day during our covert operation we found ourselves laughing at random intervals, thinking of the absurdity of our present situation and praising Jesus for the adventure in which we were given the opportunity to participate. Oh, what a story I have to tell my grandchildren one day…

A Fateful Day in March...

2010-03-10T00:28:00.000-05:00

*Read the previous post first, or you will be lost.

Fast forward to Wednesday morning. I was absolutely exhausted from two long days at Sonrise and thus slept through my morning run. I lazily prepared for the day and randomly asked Peyton if I could check my email on one of the two computers that were left in our house. Here is what I found from my good friend Rachel who just happened to be one of the few people I had told about the robbery a couple of days before:

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

So my heart started racing as the prospect of actually retrieving my computer presented itself. So I called this John Isaac character, and his phone was busy. I immediately tried again and was ecstatic when he answered the phone and told me that yes, he DID have my laptop. Someone tried to sell him my laptop at midnight the night before, and he said that he took the computer and promised to pay $800 the next day if he wanted it. Peyton and Anna listened in and asked about their computers, so I asked John Isaac if he knew of other computers being sold as well. He said his seller had eight and that he would pretend he didn’t like mine and ask to try another one until he got all of our computers back. He asked that I come quickly to Gisenyi for he needed to return to Congo very soon. At this point, I wanted to shout from the rooftops in joy that my computer had been located and my baby would soon be back in my arms!

Amidst the hullabaloo, we had to decide what to do. I knew that I had to go to Gisenyi as soon as possible, but Anna and Peyton had classes to teach. Anna decided to call the police who have been working on our case who said they would accompany us to Gisenyi, but we needed to wait one hour. We spent this hour buying airtime for our phones and gas for our car and arranging for Anna and Peyton’s classes at Sonrise. While we were waiting, I received a phone call from John Isaac who informed me that he had been receiving and ignoring calls from the seller and that I needed to come quickly. Soon, we met the Regional Police Commander (second in command in the entire country), Rogers, at his office where he assigned us an undercover police officer named Innocent to accompany us to Gisenyi. Rogers would follow us with his bodyguard and continue to be in charge of our case, because he trusted himself more than he trusted the Gisenyi police, and we trusted him, as well. Anna drove us very quickly the hour or so to Gisenyi. We were only pulled over twice on our journey (these Rwandan police mean business!), but Innocent easily got us out of each ticket just by showing his face to his friends.

As we were approaching Gisenyi, I called John Isaac to find out our destination. We were relieved to hear that he wanted to meet us at the Serena Hotel (nicest hotel in Rwanda). We entered the Serena and sat in the lobby to wait. After about thirty minutes, a man walked in with a paper grocery bag under his arm. He looked directly at me and said, “Hi,” to which I responded, “Hi.” He then walked to the reception area and greeted everyone who was working like they were old friends. We thought he might be John Isaac but could not be sure. Soon, though, he emerged from behind the reception desk empty-handed and sat with us on the couches and said, “I am the man. And you are Kelly.” He invited us to the restaurant to have a drink while we discussed the matters. We all ordered Fantas and then started in on our discussion. Soon, John Isaac excused himself from the table and returned with my laptop in a brown paper bag. I was finally reunited, and yes, it did feel so good! All John Isaac asked for in return was for me to fill his flash drive with my music. I loaded him up with the good ol’ folk music he had been listening to all night as he scoured my computer for a way to get in touch with me. As I loaded him up with music, he called the seller to negotiate the price on my laptop and to express interest in the small black computer, the white HP, and the camera he had been offered the night before. John Isaac had apparently stayed up all night combing my computer for my contact information and coming up with a plan to retrieve more stolen goods. This man now knows more about me than practically anyone on the planet. He definitely wanted to involve the police, but was apprehensive about contacting the Musanze police who were already on the case. Thus, we did not inform him that Innocent was a Musanze police officer. He also had no idea that the Commander of the entire Northern province was hiding in the parking lot ready to follow us wherever we were to go.

After we finished our Fantas, we ventured to the police station in town. At this point, John Isaac found out that Innocent was not our driver, but was still not suspicious as to who he really was. At the police station, John Isaac stated his plan and received advice from several different officers. The first course of action was scoping out the seller’s house. He wanted me to go with him, but I convinced him to let some others accompany us. Anna, Peyton, John Isaac, Innocent, and I piled back into the car and headed down the bumpy dirt roads to the seller’s house. We parked far enough away that our car was not visible from the house and John Isaac and Innocent went to scope things out. The police truck followed us as well, and parked in an equally hidden location. The two men returned with news that they saw a Dell laptop in the house, which we thought could be one of Peyton’s machines. We then delivered John Isaac and Innocent to the KBC building where they would meet the seller to seal the deal. John Isaac was to call me when they were approaching the goods so that we could follow and inform the police. We again parked far enough away to not be suspicious and waited. Rogers then summoned us back to the police station. I received a cryptic text message from John Isaac that said merely, “So” and the police requested that I text him to ask him to text me when they were to move towards the stolen items, to which he replied “To fina bank.” At this point the police also moved to Fina Bank to arrest their suspect.

John Isaac had previously mentioned that the perpetrator drove a red car, and we saw a red car outside of Fina Bank on our way back to the police station, so we informed Rogers. He sent with us another undercover cop to take note of this red car. We drove slowly past the bank and the red car and returned to our stakeout spot to watch the action from afar. Our undercover cop hopped out of the car and strolled up the street, but we stayed put so as to remain as unsuspicious as one can be being a white person in the middle of a sting operation in Gisenyi, Rwanda. Soon, the undercover cop came back and summoned us to Fina Bank. When we arrived, John Isaac was sitting at a table, and the undercover cop pulled up chairs for the rest of us to sit. We greeted John Isaac, and he responded by holding up his two fists backwards with his wrists together to insinuate handcuffs and said, “I was arrested!” I apologized profusely, feeling terrible that our accomplice had himself gotten in trouble with the law, but felt foolish when John Isaac told us it was all a part of the ploy. The police had to arrest both men so as not to stir up any suspicion in the seller.

Since we were in a relatively nice building, Anna chose to take this opportunity to “go for a short call” as my Sonrise students euphemize visiting the restroom. While Anna was in her stall, she received a call from Rogers instructing us to leave Fina Bank immediately. He was bringing the buyer back to the bank, and we were on strict orders not to be seen with John Isaac. Anna asked if he could give us five minutes, but he did not grant her such permission. She charged through the three security doors and shooed us all out the door into the car, yet again.

It was now nearly 2 ‘o clock, and none of us had eaten since an early breakfast. John Isaac had not eaten since dinner, and claimed to be fasting. We wanted to help him break his fast, so we drove back to the Serena Hotel for the best food in Rwanda. Just as we were sitting down and receiving menus, we heard from Rogers again. He needed us to bring the “white computer” (my Macbook) back to the police station. So we told the waiter we were sorry, but we must be going and we got in the car again and headed for the station. When we arrived, Rogers informed us that we were not friends with John Isaac. At this point, the seller still didn’t know John Isaac was on the police’s side in this investigation. At the station we found the seller and a pile of goods that had been confiscated from his house by the police. He pointed to my laptop and a black Q laptop and said that he bought them together, so he thought maybe the Q was one of ours. It was not. We were also instructed to look through two other computer bags for our computers. A Dell! False alarm. Not Peyton’s Dell. Along with the laptops there were speakers, a DVD player, and anything else of worth they happened to see while pillaging the seller’s house. He was able to produce receipts for some of the goods and thus the police could not prosecute any further. Since the seller decided to cooperate with the law and promised to turn in the man from whom he bought the computers (Jimmy), he was released and the police took him and all of his belongings home.

Thus the waiting game began. We sat for an hour or so at the police station awaiting this Jimmy character when John Isaac realized he had left his office unlocked in Goma with his laptop inside. In lieu of having to later search for yet another missing laptop, he decided to go lock up his office, and we would reconvene an hour later. While he was gone, Rogers decided that we were all hungry and it would be more pleasant to wait for Jimmy at La Corniche, a restaurant near the lake, than in the bare police station in the middle of town. Anna, Peyton, Innocent and I piled back into our little gold Honda Accord and Rogers and his body guard led us in the police truck over potholes the size of bathtubs until we reached the Congolese border where we turned around and continued on to La Corniche and had a feast. We ate rice and pasta and ground beef and roast beef and curry chicken and greens and French fries and avocados and salad and fruit salad. We spent 3 hours or so hanging out at the restaurant and became fast friends with both John Isaac and Rogers while we waited for Jimmy to arrive with our laptops. Apparently John Isaac knows 8 languages and had his first experience with covert operations as a ten year old in the Congo. He was forced to swallow an important piece of paper and board a bus to Uganda to deliver the secret document. Every once in a while, during a lull in conversation, Rogers would make or receive a phone call and offer us more information. After one of the phone calls, Rogers asked if we were missing any pens, which we were. Peyton’s favorite pens. The person on the phone had claimed that he would return everything, even the pens. Apparently Peyton and Anna’s computers were in Congo but on their way to Gisenyi. We also found out that while John Isaac and the seller were both in police custody post-arrest, they had each received a phone call on their recently confiscated cell phones. Rogers answered both calls: one from John Isaac’s father and one from Jimmy. He pretended to be the phone’s owner and probed Jimmy enough to get some important information but not far enough to raise any suspicion. He then gave Jimmy’s phone number to another officer to call him to interrogate him. Jimmy promised to cooperate with the police and to turn in the person in Musanze from whom he bought our goods. After hanging out at La Corniche for three hours or so, we finally got the go-ahead to go meet Jimmy in Gisenyi town.

We all piled back into our cars and drove back near the police station. Jimmy did not want to meet at the police station for fear of arrest, so we met him on a side street. The seller himself accompanied him. They came to our window and started pouring random cords and electronics into Peyton’s lap. We acquired the Dell laptop, the wireless router, a flash drive, some other random cords, Peyton’s headphones, and one of his beloved pens. They left with the promise that they would return the rest of the things to Musanze the following day.

At that, we were finally free to head home in full hopes that everything that had been stolen would be returned and that the thieves would be caught and brought to justice. We dropped John Isaac off at Peace Land Hotel and headed back down the road to Musanze. We dropped Innocent off at his house and then followed Rogers back to our not so humble abode where we recounted the craziest day of our lives to our housemates.

To be continued again...

A Fateful Day in February...

2010-03-08T14:30:00.000-05:00

If you want to be remembered after you die, do something worth writing about or write something worth reading. Wise words from Julius, a fellow English teacher at Sonrise High School. I believe I have done something worth writing about, and hopefully this will be worth reading.

It all started early last Thursday morning. I woke up to a conversation between Anna and Peyton in the living room. I heard bits and pieces like, “I’m going to KILL Christian!” and “they’re all gone” and “the backdoor is wide open.” I realized what was going on, and after Anna said, “I would call the police, but they stole my cell phone charger,” I emerged, cell phone charger in hand. After a brief inspection by the three of us, we found that we were missing 4 laptop computers, an additional computer monitor, wireless router, iPod touch, Amazon Kindle, a basket of random cords, an entire backpack which contained a camera, a rain jacket, and some checkbooks, and season 2 of 24. We ran outside and tried to communicate to Christian (our substitute guard, who is a little slow) that we had been robbed, but with his extremely limited English and mental capacity, he had no clue what was going on. We called Museveni, our much-loved day guard, to come interpret and Eric, our typical night guard, as well. We knew that we would need a legitimate interpreter to get to the bottom of things, so Bob called Bishop John’s son Andrew to help us communicate. In the meantime, upon further examination, we discovered Peyton’s Bible and journal lying in the grass and the basket of cords and the wireless router box in another corner of the yard.

Andrew showed up and could not get any information out of Christian and said we must call the police. The police came and Christian still claimed to have no idea what was going on. The investigation then commenced. We took the police on a walk through the house to show them where all of the missing items had been located and made them a list of everything that was missing. The police took pictures of each missing item. Then they went outside and got out a measuring tape to measure the distance from the front porch to where the basket of cords was found (after we re-placed the evidence). Sitting in a chair in the living room was a large rock that the thief was apparently going to use as a weapon should anyone have entered the living room during the incident. The police said that they could do nothing with it since we had touched it. We informed them that we had not touched it, so they asked for paper to remove it from the chair. Anna handed the police a paper bag for the evidence, but they still needed a sheet of paper with which to lift the rock. Andrew informed us that they would do nothing to the rock, but we were well aware of the fact that the police were just trying to appease the Muzungus by taking every precaution they could possibly think of.

Once the initial investigation was complete, the police took all three of our guards in for questioning. Anna and Griffin also went to the police station to file an official report of our theft. Peyton and Bob went to the bank to cancel Peyton’s checkbooks. The weekend came and went with much ado about gatekeeping. Several of us went to Kigali to pick Tom up from the airport, but Bob and Peyton stayed home to make sure the house was always occupied. We borrowed Sonrise Primary School’s guard for the weekend and hired a temporary guard for the week. We spent the whole weekend wondering about the status of our sweet, innocent day guard, Museveni. The rest of us returned Sunday evening and found Museveni back in action at the B2R house! Anna and I ran to hug him and apologize profusely for the trouble he was put through. Our poor, sweet, innocent Museveni spent two nights in prison but was released on Saturday with the mission to go find the missing laptops in town. After our reunion with Museveni, we settled back into the house and started the week like normal, minus laptops (which, I must say makes life as a teacher with no books for my classes as it is, much more difficult than it was already). While we still have a glimmer of hope that we will get our things back, we all realize that this is indeed Africa and the odds are not in our favor.

To be continued...

Flexibility

2010-03-05T09:56:00.000-05:00

There is a running joke at our house here in Musanze about my lack of flexibility. I cannot bend over and touch my toes; I can barely even reach past my knees. Kat tries to help me by making me do yoga and ballerina stretches when she is in town, but my basketball body can’t help but laugh when she tells me things like, “Now put your forehead on the ground.”

Oftentimes when I walk from the high school to the primary school, I pass Sonrise’s huge garden full of hardworking women, many of who have babies tied on their backs, all of whom are bent over, folded completely in half like lawn chairs. Their flexibility astounds me. Who needs yoga when there is a garden to tend?

While I am not very physically flexible, Rwanda is teaching me to be flexible in other ways. For example, I spent all last week preparing Powerpoint presentations for my English classes on Monday. They were beautiful, if I do say so myself! I left my house at 6:45am and hopped on a moto-taxi thinking I had plenty of time to get to school and get everything set up before my 7:30am class. I arrived, checked out a projector from the IT department and took it to S1C where I was informed that they had no outlets in their classroom, so I could not use the projector. So, I had to scratch those beautiful Powerpoints and revert to the ol’ chalkboard to teach my kids about sentences. And you know what? Those kids learned about sentences.

This kind of flexibility comes no more naturally to me than physical flexibility. My natural inclination is to be fifteen minutes early, always. I love to make plans, and I get frustrated when they fall through. It is only by traveling around the world that I have acquired this new skill. When meetings are scheduled for Monday morning, it is my newfound flexibility that has allowed me to show up to that meeting on Thursday afternoon with a smile on my face. Or to happily eat really tough chicken when the restaurant has run out of beef and fish before we have arrived. Or to teach someone else’s class with one minute’s notice because things are “unsettled.”

Rwanda is stretching me as much as Kat, my yoga instructor, stretches me. Hopefully by the time I leave this beautiful place, I will not only be able to touch my toes, but also to truly keep having a positive attitude when things don’t go quite as I had planned.

Stop and Stare

2010-02-18T11:25:00.001-05:00

Being a white girl in Rwanda puts me in some interesting situations everyday.

Several mornings a week, I wake up early and go for a run around my neighborhood. (I used to go run through villages and cornfields, but after busting it twice because of my unstable footing on the rocky terrain, I have decided to switch to paved surfaces.) Running for exercise is uncommon around here. And by uncommon, I mean nonexistent. So you can imagine the stares I get by being white AND running through the streets with no destination in mind. I typically run with my iPod so as to tune out the incessant shouts of “Muzungu! Muzungu!” but the stares are impossible to ignore. My running time often coincides with many children’s commute to the local school, and thus I typically get a little posse of followers trying their hardest to keep up with me as I scamper down the street. The children aren’t the only ones who stop and stare; my running is also entertaining to adults who often stop everything to watch and sometimes to emulate my lanky lope.

While I work predominantly at the high school, occasionally I end up at Primary to do projects where I get stared at by THE cutest kids on the planet. Today I was sitting in the business manager’s office working on her computer with Anna with quite the audience. She tried to shoo them away unsuccessfully and informed us that they just wanted to look at us. Earlier Peyton and I happened to arrive at Primary at break time where we were swarmed. Some kids keep their distance and merely explore us with their eyes, but others are too fascinated by my hair to keep their hands to themselves.

The stares are much fewer when we are at hotels or in the car. These are places we Muzungus are expected to be. However, when walking down the road and shopping in the market, it is as though the Rwandan eyes are magnets and we are refrigerator doors. It has come to a point where I am surprised when people don’t stare at me.

I wish I could share a photo with you of the jaw dropped, blank stare I receive hundreds of times a day, but it is rather difficult to snap a candid picture of someone whose eyes are piercing your soul. I hope you will understand.

In all of these situations, it never fails: I ALWAYS find myself singing OneRepublic’s “Stop and Stare.”

“Stop and stare

You start to wonder why you’re here, not there

And you’d give everything to get what’s fair

But fair ain’t what you really need…”

Being the center of attention everywhere I go sometimes makes me wonder why I’m here, not there. While it may be flattering, it’s also disconcerting. Is it fair that my pale skin draws so much attention or raises so many assumptions? But maybe fair ain’t what I really need…

A Little Visual

2010-02-02T04:06:00.000-05:00

Every month, Bridge2Rwanda has asked us to create a video chronicling our past month in Rwanda. I was charged with creating the first video, and I hope it gives you a good glimpse of my life so far here in this beautiful country!

Just click the link below, and enjoy!

The Real World: Rwanda

Welcome to Rwanda!

2010-01-25T04:45:00.001-05:00

Well, I’ve been in Rwanda for one week plus two days and seen and done so many wonderful things. I was supposed to meet 3 of my teammates in the airport in Brussels, but boarded the plane without ever seeing a familiar face, thinking I was going to Rwanda alone and hoping Mark and Anna would be at the airport to pick me up, even if the other three didn’t make it. Luckily, I found Peyton, Kat, and Bob on the plane and we were all warmly welcomed by Anna and Mark at the Kigali airport. We arrived to a wonderful homecooked pizza dinner at Tom’s house where we sat in his amazing gazebo looking out over the entire city. We spent the next 4 days touring the town. We visited the Genocide Memorial which is just as gut wrenching the second time as the first. We opened Rwandan bank accounts and bought Rwandan cell phones. I feel so legit! We ate at lots of delicious restaurants, our favorite being Car Wash, which, as you might have guessed is both a car wash and a restaurant (with a salon and gift shop as well). After getting well acquainted with Kigali, we drove a most beautiful two hours to Musanze, my home for the next ten months.

Musanze (formerly known as Ruhengeri) is the most densely populated town in the most densely populated country in Africa. There are people EVERYWHERE! Musanze is very different from Kigali. Kigali is much hotter, more city-like, and has way more Muzungus (white people). We had a little dinner party on Friday night, and practically every Muzungu in Musanze showed up. There were 12 of us, including the seven B2R volunteers living in this house. Here’s a quick rundown of my teammates, in alphabetical order:

Anna has been living in Musanze since August (with a trip back home to Arkansas for the holidays) working at Sonrise School. She has made tons of Rwandan friends and is our liaison for most everything around here.

Bob has his hands full with “the kids” as he calls us. He is like a dad to all of us and saves the day at least once a day. He will mainly be working with construction projects including a house where he will move with his wife upon its completion.

Griffin flew in a couple of days after the rest of the crew and handled his jet lag like a champ. Being from California and going to college in Maine, he is loving the southernness of the rest of the team. He will be working as a consultant at Ishema Hotel here in town.

Kat is only with us in Musanze for a little while as she will be stationed in Kigali. She will be welcoming any of B2R’s visitors and taking care of them for their stays in Rwanda.

Mark has been in Rwanda since October working as business manager and going on all kinds of crazy adventures. He is a fellow Clemson grad and the son of the people who own the camp I worked at in Colorado. Small world.

Peyton will be working with Anna and me at Sonrise. He recently graduated from Arkansas with an Information Systems degree and will be helping out in the computer lab.

I’m sure you will get to know all of my teammates through my blog over the course of the year; hopefully this introduction was helpful.

I am having a great time getting oriented to life in Rwanda and getting to know my teammates. School starts on February 2nd, so I have a while still before I really know exactly what I’ve gotten myself into, but I am extremely excited nonetheless!

Why Are You Going to Rwanda?

2010-01-10T08:53:00.000-05:00

This question was posed to me recently and has really gotten me thinking. Why am I going to Rwanda? Typically when people ask me this question, a simple “to teach English at a high school” response satisfies them. This particular time, however, I was entreated to go deeper. My responses of “well, they really need to learn English, and I can easily fulfill that role for them” and “to show love to people who really need it” didn’t bode well with my questioner either. He challenged me to think about it, and think about it I have!

Initially, I decided to go to Rwanda because I had nothing else to do with my life, and there was an open door. It took me no more than a weeklong visit to Musanze, Rwanda and Sonrise School to see the urgency of their need, and as I heard constantly from my preacher growing up, “A need seen is an assignment given.” I am going to Rwanda to use my gifts and my passions to complete the assignment I have been given and to make a significant difference in the world.

When asked by Bridge2Rwanda for my mission statement, I composed the following: To spread the love of Christ and to increase the effectiveness of communication in the world one person at a time. I do realize that this mission can easily be accomplished in the comfort of my own country, but since when is life about being comfortable? Imagine, if you will, a balloon. When you take it out of the package, it is very comfortable, but when you begin to blow it up, it begins to stretch and lose a bit of that comfort. If you let it go once it has reached its capacity, does it return to its original state? No. It actually ends up larger than it was to start. This illustrates well the principle that stepping outside of your comfort zone helps you grow as a person.

The man who asked me why I am going to Rwanda also asked if I am going for myself. My initial response was a defensive, “Are you implying that I am selfish?” to which he responded, “Just because you do something for yourself does not make you selfish.” So, yes, in part, I am going to Rwanda for myself. I am going to stretch myself like that balloon and come back a bigger and better person. But, I am also going for the hundreds of students at Sonrise School who want a chance at making a difference in their country.

As I rang in the New Year with The Avett Brothers at the Asheville Civic Center, the words to a favorite song of mine struck a new chord within me:

And they may pay us off in fame
But that is not why we came
And if it compromises truth then we will go…

We came to break the bad
We came to cheer the sad
We came to leave behind the world a better way…

I pray that I will be able to ward off the fame that being a Mzungu will bring to me and that truth will not be compromised. I hope to break the bad and to cheer the sad, but mostly, I am going to Rwanda to leave behind the world a better way.

I'm Going to Rwanda

2010-01-03T17:09:00.000-05:00

As you may know, this summer I spent six weeks and most of my life savings in Africa volunteering in an orphanage near Arusha, Tanzania. While this experience was very valuable, and these children were absolutely precious, it was a different part of my trip that changed me the most. During my stay in Africa, I visited Sonrise School in Musanze, Rwanda to see if I would be a good fit as an English teacher there. I met many amazing people and saw the hand of God working in the lives of the teachers and students. These beautiful people are truly impacting their country. It did not take long for me to fall in love with Sonrise School, Musanze, and the entire country of Rwanda. That being said, I am returning to Musanze for the 2010 school year starting January 15 through Bridge2Rwanda, an organization whose mission is to create a new generation of well-educated, entrepreneurial, servant leaders in Rwanda—young people committed to Jesus, their country, and one another.

Rwanda is the most picturesque place I have ever been. The mountains, the volcanoes, the lakes, the brightly colored fabrics, and the gargantuan smiles on the faces of the most humble people are awe-inspiring. To know this country was ravaged by genocide, and nearly one million people were killed in 100 days merely fifteen years ago astounds me. Present-day Rwanda is very safe and filled with hope and hard work; the transformation is miraculous.

As Rwanda continues to develop, many needs continue to surface. Most urgently there is a need for learning the English language. Rwanda realizes that for its country to be successful globally, the workforce must compete by speaking English. The country is investing in its educational system by mandating English in its curriculum.

In the aftermath of the genocide, Rwandan schools were decimated, and the country was overwhelmed with at least 400,000 homeless orphans. In the midst of this devastation, Sonrise School was founded by Bishop John Rucyahana to be “light on a hill.” Bishop John’s vision was to create a boarding school that would set the standard for academic excellence and servant leadership. Within five years of inception, Sonrise School was cited in the Kigali New Times as the top primary school in Rwanda. The majority of the students are orphans and Bishop John has a belief that every student is redeemable. Sonrise opened in 2001 with 200 students in primary grades 1-4 and has added an additional grade each year since. Today, the school has over 1000 students in eleven grades and will graduate its first high school class in 2010. In order to further their education and consequently the development of their country, these students need to gain the skills to pass the TOEFL (Test of English as a Foreign Language) exam. I have met some of the students and see potential and a willingness to learn and succeed in their beautiful souls. I hope to use my love of Rwanda, young people, teaching, and the English language to do my part to make a difference in the world.

It amazes me constantly that God really does work all things together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28). I firmly believe it is no coincidence that so many details continue to fall into place. I hope that as I walk by faith through the doors God has opened for me that He will continue to do amazing things in my life and in those whom I will have the privilege to teach and befriend in Rwanda.