Day Six

No food, no entry to guesthouse, no electricity. The real test is coming. Teaching English to my neighbors today. Too bad I’m not a teacher. Found a European news radio program. Nice to hear English. My phone thinks it’s charging even though it’s not. I’m wrapped up in a trashy, romance novel about psychics. Yes, Amy – my standards have finally sunken to your level, after all the badgering I’ve given you throughout our lives. The simplest stories get my mind off stressful things, like feeding myself.

I had my first cry since getting to site. Six days in isn’t bad. And it wasn’t even a meltdown. Just needed some peace and quiet without everyone watching me. The guesthouse (when I can actually get in it) is just that place. It reminds me of my cottage in northern Michigan (yay, Houghton Lake). I am very far from home.

Had a decent afternoon. Was going over English/Kin words with my neighbors. She had the lyrics to No Air by Jordin Sparks and a Marc Anthony song that she wanted explained to her. I love the randomness. They are very sweet people. I still can’t figure out exactly who lives in which house. Everyone just floats around. But they have a cow so they are definitely my richest neighbors.

Hung my clothesline today. It was a big deal. Might even do some laundry later. Hold me back!

Got a phone call from my EPR boss telling me there is meeting I have to attend on Monday morning in Kigali. Biggest obstacle is figuring out where the office is. At least I can get myself into the city easily. And to the best breakfast place, although I probably won’t have time. Priorities, right. Just when I was complaining about wanting to see Americans and get to the big city, now I’m feeling sad and guilty about leaving my community. That’s a really good sign. I do love my little village.

Part of the stress of the day was pondering if my cell phone would die with all the texts and future phone calls to come from home. Plus whether the hospital generators (only source of power in town) run on the weekends. Turns out they do! Now I don’t have to worry about my phone hanging up on people!

Visited quite a few stores today. Bought carrots, some sad looking bananas, tree tomatoes, passion fruit, sugar and rolls. Four meals of break and peanut butter, jelly and fruit! Stopped by Jeanne’s for tea. Even though she and her roommate are away, she insisted that her houseboy make me tea in a thermos to take home and drink with my measly bread. She at first said he would make me a meal but that seemed ludicrous. I feel bad enough with all the free stuff people give me.

Went on a mission to figure out what time the Catholic priest says mass at the school, what the strange Sunday bus schedule is into Kigali in case I decide to go in a night early, if the generators are on and a visit to Pastor Jerome who I have yet to see since site visit but he is one of my guardians and speaks decent English.

I found out mass is at ten, and now I’m pretty sure the whole community knows I’m Catholic from asking three secondary students. The bus schedule is a mystery although I did learn that the shopkeeper next to the bus place is rude. I guess I’ll just wait until Monday morning to head in at 6:30. What’s the difference I wake with the sun anyway. And while trying to visit Pastor Jerome I met the student choir – very nice kids. Then I got brought in to introduce myself to a training session Pastor Jerome was holding on promoting peace. I guess that’s 50 less people I need to introduce myself to individually since I accidentally inserted myself into their training. Oh to be an honored guest. If only I could blend in and not be treated that way sometimes.

Oh yea, and the guesthouse has a TV! Turned it on to see what was broadcasting from the one channel – Rwandan TV. It was some creepy French movie that looked like Mission Impossible meets Lost. I’m back to the romance novel.

I just had a five minute conversation with the caretaker of the guesthouse (I really need to remember his name) to explain that he’s leaving. But he’ll be back in an hour. And it’s not a problem that I stay here for another hour. But then he needs to lock it up and go home so I have to leave. So simple yet so complicated. He’s so patient with my ineptness.

I had a marvelous walk home in the rain. First I met a secondary student in the English club. Edison has already been helping them learn and I was planning to too. They are going to find me again later to get me the dates and times that they meet. I’m easily tracked down believe it or not. I also met Pastor Jerome’s son, Samuel, who goes to the secondary school as well. The great thing about their names here is they are almost all from the Bible or French or a combination of the two. If you can just decipher the accent, you probably already know the name. Even with that help, I’m having a horrible time remembering. Although after I mocking yelled at my neighbors yesterday for calling me muzungo instead of my name, I’ve been hearing Kim all the time now. Some people call me Kimber and some Kimmy because they like to add a y on the end of things. That was a long tangent, back to the point.

I got caught in the rain and went to wait it out under the alcove of the church. A few descriptive details that will help this story out – The church has a beautiful view. It’s set at a perfect height and angle to see the valley below. The choir was practicing beautifully inside which gave a nice soundtrack to the rain clouds moving onto another hill. Of course I wasn’t the only one getting shelter from the rain, and the brave secondary students always want to practice their English. I had a wonderful conversation with two boys. We discussed the disparity of wealth in both our respective countries. I am really trying to dispel the myth that number one: all Americans are intelligent and want to learn and number two: are rich. The wealth myth always getting heads shaking. And he had a good point today. Sure people may be starving and homeless in both places but here many people are orphans or single parents or completely alone because of the genocide. He won the debate hands down. Plus as he said – life is different here. Wealth is defined differently. If a man has a job and can feed his children, maybe even own a shop- that is the ultimate wealth. Life is simpler here (his words, not mine). I love that being caught in the rain becomes just another opportunity to have a great conversation, to meet more of my neighbors, to get the word out that I am here. This integration process is all about putting yourself out there, being open to the conversations. Some talk about needing to be extroverted here to really help. I don’t feel like I’m changing who I am and becoming an extrovert. I’m simply walking around town, at a very slow pace, and allowing myself to be caught in the rain.

Although that is wonderful ending to the blog post…I’m not done.
I’d like to take this opportunity to apologize for two things. Firstly, only after retyping what I’ve been journaling these few days have I realized how atrocious my writing has become. I can hardly stand to read it myself. Sorry that the sentence structure and vocabulary usage. It makes me cringe.

Secondly, I’m apologizing to all my fellow PCVs whose parents compare our blogs. I’ve been writing…a lot. Although I’m sure it will die down eventually I’m sorry for the grief you’ve been getting from cross checking parents and relatives. There are some obstacles to writing here. The excitement of everything that is happening stops some from sitting down and putting it in words. And just the putting it in words can be insurmountable. Just the fact that people at home can read what almost every single one of us is doing and our unique perspective is astounding, kind of creepy, and getting creepier the more I think about it. This blog was really set up for my family and friends at home so I wouldn’t have to send mass, mass emails. But it has turned into a great outlet for my thoughts, something for future PCVs to read and if more of you are getting something out of it…I’m glad.