In Your Face

I've been a fool. There comes a time when you are so angry or disappointed or sad that you can only see the ugly in life. You don't want to feel joy so you purposefully block it. It's a dangerous place to be. Perhaps the saving grace of Rwanda is that you can never fully isolate yourself. This country, as I'm imagining most African countries are, is incredibly hands on. Literally. Looking back, I believe there were whole days I went without coming in physical contact with another person in the US. We are incredibly isolated, both physically and emotionally. Rwanda is in your face! You shake hands with everyone, all day long. You give hugs. You get stuffed into buses. Your neighbors know all your business, because you are their soap opera. I've tried to lock myself up in my house but I can still HEAR them. There is no escape. And that's a relief.

I went to the market this morning. One of my very first market friends is a woman who sells passion fruit mainly, but also some of the saddest looking veggies there. She's earned my customer loyalty though. Today she was sad to show me that all the passion fruit was already sold, except one. She gave it to me free because I'm her friend, as she proudly proclaimed to her fellow sellers. After I told I wanted tomatoes too, she dragged me over to her friend who sells tomatoes and demanded that I receive only the best ones. In that moment I wanted to make her life easier, give her a gift, something. Friendship is priceless.

I'm hoping the tide is turning. I will certainly try to see the sweeter things in life here.