Day of Miracles and Day of Jinxes

This is a story from a couple months ago but I've been hesitating. It seems like the story that you end with - well, ya had to be there. Nevertheless, since I've written a whole blog of - well, ya had to be there - I shall continue.

It was a day like no other. Quite possibly my favorite couple days in Rwanda.

The domino effect all started Thursday night. I was running around the house getting ready for bed. I had a premonition that I had just done something I would regret. It's like visualizing the car crash before it ever happens. But nevertheless, I was carrying my phone around in my shirt since I didn't have pockets in my pants. Plop…right into the bucket of water, a new danger from not having indoor plumbing. I grabbed it as quickly as possible and tried to dry out the battery and number pad. All my efforts were in vain, the phone refused to turn on. I was beyond irate at myself. Not only did I see this coming but now I couldn't receive my weekly phone call from my parents that night, use the only alarm clock I have (on my phone), or buy a new phone until I went into the city in a couple days. I calmed myself down, went to sleep and hoped for a miracle.

And thus, the day of miracles began. I woke up and felt confident as I reached for my phone. Sure enough it was done with its tantrum and worked perfectly. Hallelujah.

I was privileged enough to attend a ceremony for a cooperative of wonderful ladies. Edison had helped them get funding to learn a new skill and they were being awarded certificates for completing the training. What had started as a simple ceremony turned into an elaborate soiree. Rwanda has strict guidelines about etiquette. For example, we had to invite 8 speakers (pastor of the church, hospital administration, person at district level in charge of cooperatives, person at sector in charge of HIV, peace corps rep, etc. etc.) and they must speak in order of ascending power. I needed to serve the water and Fanta because it would have looked tacky to have another more important person play hostess.

I will tell you my two favorite parts of the day. It was my first time wearing an umushanana, which is traditional Rwandan dress for women. Fidele (supervisor) had mentioned to the women a week ago that they should all be dressed to the nines and if they could give me something too, that'd be great. I was so nervous about what I was going to be required to wear. You have to think about skirts and slips and all that. I came prepared. I had a nice Western dress on with the undergarments for whatever was thrown at me. They ushered me into their changing room. I stood there like a helpless child because I didn't know how to dress myself. Luckily Pauline quickly stepped in (a women from the cooperative). They had rented me a beautiful umushanana. I had a white tank top on then two pieces of fabric where tied on. The first was a wrap around skirt. The second gauzy-er piece of aqua fabric was tied over one of my shoulders (can't remember if it was left or right) to signify that I was unmarried. The skirt was a bit long and it was tied so tight I thought I was wearing a corset, but I had no fear that it was going to fall down! I'll have to get my hands on a picture of me so you can see me in my Rwandan finest. (If you happen to be Facebook friends with me, it's my profile picture at the moment…with my favorite mental health patient.) Since the ceremony was inside the hospital, all my coworkers got to see me dressed as a real Rwandan and complimented me on it. It was one of those special days of celebration where its a pure joy and everyone is dressed up and you can compliment them. Just a big upper of a day.

There was an exchange of gifts between Edison and the cooperative. He gave what is quite possibly the most prized gifts to Rwandans, photos. In return they gave him some wall decorations, fabric (the skill they learned) and a chicken. No joke there was a chicken inside of a box. It was so excited to see some daylight that it was crazily flapping around. I'll admit it scared the crap out of me. In the words of Fidele - you give what you have. This was a special gift from these poor women.

So there was dancing, Fanta and certificates - per the usual celebration. I went home feeling happy and proud.

I had to get up super early to catch the 6:40 am bus into the city. We had some visiting to do. Two months earlier a coworker had been married but a bunch of us missed the wedding for various reasons. I'd like to claim the best excuse of all - a last minute training taking place the same day as the wedding - and it was the truth. So I left my house at 6:15 to catch the 6:40. If it sounds brutal - it is! The only time I need to use an alarm clock here is trying to catch that first bus. In the darkness of my bedroom you will usually hear a screeching - WHHHHHHYY?!? Which is probably what a neighbors think after they hear it every time. So I'm speed walking to the bus and it's still sitting there, with barely anyone inside - score. Or so I think. It turns out one of the secondary school's sports teams bought out the whole bus, which left the rest of us wandering around confused and half asleep, since I usually spend the hour long bus ride waking up. As a group we demanded that another bus driver be called. Money could be made…and we had to get places quick. So soon we see a sleepy-eyed bus driver emerge from his house and we very quickly fill the whole bus. Everything was back on track - or so I thought. Next thing I know the bus stops half way to our destination telling us we all have to hop on another bus for the rest of the way. My first sign of this day being a bit off.

We met up for lunch with my African coworker being an hour late - even she admits that she's a true African, always late. We went to buy a last minute wedding gift on our way to the house. Nothing like quick shopping. We bought a wall decoration for the house. The dark clouds were rolling in but I didn't worry. In fact I was cocky about it. Well, if it rains, it'll last an hour at most! HA! I jinxed it.

I also happen to be blessed with the pride of America. When it began raining I insisted that I didn't need to huddle inside a store like the herd of Rwandans. I would stand outside under my umbrella so that I could more effectively catch the bus. And with vengeance did I stand, as people scoffed at me. My pants' legs became soiled with the bouncing dirt from the paver sidewalk. My umbrella couldn't stand the hurricane style winds so I was partially drenched by the end of it. (This may have been the moment when I finally gave into the rain and started acting Rwandan in every future event, by letting the rain sequester me and my plans of action. Refer to recent post of me succumbing to a rainy Monday morning.)

During a break in the precipitation, we took a bus to the other side of town. Often visiting people for the first time must include them coming to the main road on foot to get you and direct you the rest of the way. There aren't really street signs or addresses or easy ways to give directions. So Felix came down the mountain to get us. I'd like to put some emphasis on the term mountain because this will come up later. We followed him back to his house and it was beautiful. Nice decorations, comfy, new furniture. We got fed cheese and sausage until we couldn't swallow another mouthful. All the while watching their two-plus hour wedding video and looking at the photo albums.

I should back up a bit because the first five minutes of the visit were awesomely culturally awkward. We were introduced to Felix's wife. She was beautiful and kind and they made a great couple. Edison innocently asked - so how did you two meet? I nodded right along. Great American question but apparently not such a great Rwandan question. They were stunned and slightly offended. We had to back pedal and explain how this was a common query for couples at home. The next question, seeing that his wife was pregnant, was how many months pregnant are you? Considering she was six months pregnant and we had come on their second month wedding anniversary, an awkward silence commenced. This visit was off to a great start.

The rain just kept coming down, and coming, and coming. Hours had passed and I had plans! Plans to get out of this city. But rain often dictates life here, or I should say, dislike of rain dictates life here. It's difficult to get a Rwandan to elect to walk in the rain unless absolutely necessary. As the hours passed, we were stuffed with even more food, and then Rwandan hospitality took over. New sleeping arrangements were made. Edison was to spend the night here at Felix's house and I would sleep at Jeanne's house after Fidele walked us to the bus stop. It was still raining but darkness was coming so we had to make a move. I was so frustrated. I wanted to get to my friend's house, as planned. I wanted to be eating American food and watching trashy TV. I wanted my weekend. But I succumbed. Staying in the city would be the smart thing to do. Ugh.

So Jeanne, Fidele and I started our trek down the MOUNTAIN. This thing was steep, and I never seem to be wearing the proper footwear. Although I also haven't decided what is the perfect footwear for these situations. We had borrowed coats from Felix since it was freezing and sharing two umbrellas between the three of us. I was trying desperately to keep my laptop dry and attempting not to make this hike down turn out like my childhood Slip N Slide memories. We were descending a different path than we had gone up because Fidele swore he knew the way. I generally trust Fidele's sense of direction, but three dead ends later I was over that. Luckily Fidele doesn't have that male gene that stops him from asking for directions so we kept stopping at houses to pathetically ask for help. I could tell we were getting close to the main road below. Just one more jaunt down and we'd be golden. Fidele had been pointed to the right so to the right we went. All of a sudden I couldn't hear anything over the sound of a waterfall. I could see Fidele pointing down to the fast flowing river as if this was a proper path to walk down. This was our way down. You've GOT to be kidding me! Inch by inch I made it, only having to touch my hands into the mud a couple times to steady myself.

Once we were walking down the main paved road to the bus stop, we were all laughing hysterically. We had simply and utterly lost our marbles. We even took a couple photos in the rain to commemorate this misadventure (I'll try to get my hands on the photos.) To top it all off Jeanne and Fidele were laughing about how, unbenounced to me, we had been invited to stay at Felix's house for the night and descend in the pristine dryness of morning. Why oh why had they not accepted the offer!? I don't care how socially awkward it is to sleep on someone's couch.

So Fidele, not being the boy scout he could have aspired to become, did not come to rainy season prepared. He was quite umbrella-less. I sent him on his way with my beautiful hot pink umbrella until we met again. Jeanne and I huddled waiting for the bus. Of course, Rwanda and Kigali being like a small town, we ran into a couple people Jeanne knew. They had just come from a garden wedding. Horrid day for such a thing. I believe there was a 20 minute window of sunshine that day. We all crammed ourselves onto the bus, 5 across the seat instead of the allotted 4. To my delight a secondary student was moving home from boarding school and seemed to have all his earthly possessions on the crowded bus with us. His rolled up foam mattress was being balanced on his head, unsuccessfully. But, alas, the helpfulness of Rwandans. No one seemed to mind the 3.5 heads it took to balance the foam without using hands. At this point it seemed as if the delirium had afflicted the entire bus.

I went to sleep chuckling. I had been filled to the brim with tea and was able to watch the Rwandan nightly news. They had busted a group of men for marijuana possession. One man is quoted as saying it gave him a sensation that is indescribable. Then as a punishment, the police made this gaggle of men stand beside a pile of their stash as it was burned.

Two days to remind me of the humor and lack of predictability of Rwanda, and life.