What a Bad Day Looks Like

I can talk about all the lovely moments here but there are certainly bad days. I am having one such day today. I woke up not wanting to be in Rwanda. For once can't I just eat cereal and drink cold milk, go to the bathroom in my house, not have to deal with a language barrier and just be left alone. Can't everyone just act like I look just like them. Can't I just fit in and more importantly can't I just have a lazy Sunday with my family. Working here is all fine and good but when I have to day to relax I'd like to drive over to my sister's house and escape. I'd like to be able to use my free time for me, surrounded by the familiar.

I spent half my morning being absorbed in the West Wing (season 2 is really dynamite) ignoring where I am and eating junk food. Junk food is such a luxury. To mindlessly eat is a luxury. The other half of the morning was spent pouting, reading notes of encouragement from my best friend and in general sobbing like a baby. Those are the low points. The points with no motivation. Digging my heels in and not wanting to make a fool of myself - which is what is necessary every single day here. Facing your worst character flaws. and having such an inflated sense of self that you think you are capable of just about anything. Some days you just lose your way. Or you get down on yourself for not doing enough.

I considered not going to church today for fear of crying in public. We all know what a faux pas that is from previous experience. But often the worst idea is staying couped up in the house.

And then in usual Rwandan fashion, my neighbors sensed something is wrong and are just pouring on the wonderfulness. I'm wearing a scarf in my hair because I absolutely refused wash my hair today even though it is achieving a funky flip up which I didn't even think possible. The scarf makes me look more Rwandan so of course I've already gotten five compliments on it. Then Tabita called me over as soon as I walked out of my gate. Apparently 10 am on a Sunday is not too early to be drinking. I greeted Bubba and friends. Tabita asked me to pray for her, which I certainly will. I was walked to the hospital by a secondary school student and we had a lovely conversation. In the meantime I was flanked on both sides by children holding my hands. They were adorable, well behaved and liked to grip my hand like I was their salvation.

Whenever I try to write off Rwanda and wallow in self pity, they punch me in the stomach with compassion and thankfulness. Darn. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow.