Leaving Rwanda

So you might have picked up during my posts that I’ve had some ups and downs in Rwanda. Unfortunately the downs began to really take hold on me mentally and I’ve been going through a difficult time here. Four weeks ago I wrote the following blog post and decided that if I didn’t think it was possible to move past these feelings with a month, then I’d have to make a change. The month went pretty well actually, with a trip into Nyungwe rain forest, a 5 day Peace Corps training at a nice hotel, lots of bonding time with some great fellow volunteers, and 2 week-long girls’ camps that I helped with as a facilitator. Unfortunately, these trips and events aren’t the everyday norm here and I realized that this situation was not a good fit for me. Right now I’m writing this post from the airport in Kigali on my way home. It was a difficult choice for the reasons outlined below, but I think the right one.

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Well, I’ve decide to quit Peace Corps. There are a number of reasons why, which I’ll try to explain, but I think I had a pretty poignant moment with my Rwandan counterpart the other day that solidified this decision for me. She asked, “Darcy, are you happy?” And I couldn’t say yes.

Even during training I was having some doubts about living here for 27 months and my unhappiness has pretty much just increased over time. When I applied for this job there were a number of motivating factors: helping people, traveling the world, work experience, adventure, etc. But with all the free time I’ve had in the nearly 6 months I’ve been here, I’ve been able to put a lot of thought into my priorities in life and I don’t feel like Peace Corps will push me significantly closer to those goals. More importantly, I miss America—friends, family, restaurants, grocery stores, museums, conversations in a language I can understand, hot showers, toilets, ovens, washing dishes in a sink and clothing in a washing machine, holidays, dating, and my health. That last one is obviously pretty important and I have to say that in Rwanda I just don’t feel like myself. Between occasional diarrhea, one incidence of severe food poisoning, a staph infection, mysterious allergies, fatigue, depression, and hunger (which resulted in me losing 14 pounds) I am totally off-kilter. The hunger thing can be attributed to lack of motivation to cook the limited types of food available on a hot plate or coal stove and wash my dishes in a bucket of water that I have to fetch. Basically, even after making my house feel somewhat comfortable, living here is still not easy.

The lack of anonymity has also worn on me. Prior to my arriving another female PC volunteer lived at my site for 2 years, and yet it still seems that some people (adults and children alike) just aren’t used to seeing a foreigner and feel the need to stare, laugh, ask for money, or call me umuzungu. Don’t get me wrong, Rwandans are kind people and many have been very welcoming and call me by name, but I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling like an alien.

Maybe all of these difficulties could have been side-stepped if I was really passionate about the work I will be doing in this community, but I’m not jazzed on that front either. I’m sure I could have been helpful in Nyamasheke, but as I learned during the writing of a “Community Needs Report” recently, my community already has a lot going for it and they’re making steps to improve education and health on their own with teaching initiatives, a youth center, a new library, business cooperatives, child growth/malnutrition monitoring etc. And the health center predominantly wants me to work in nutrition which would be pretty hypocritical of me considering my nutrition here is terrible. You can also probably guess from my previous posts about food that my eating habits in America weren’t great either.

Frankly, the only reasons I can think of not to quit are: Guilt that I will be letting down my friends, family, and host community. Guilt that people have spent money on care packages and long-distance phone calls. Guilt that I could have done something helpful in my village, but decided to think selfishly about my own needs. Embarrassment for all of the hullaballoo associated with my coming here—the going-away parties and whatnot. Embarrassment that my co-workers were so supportive of my quitting to join Peace Corps and now I am quitting again! And fear of what will happen when I return to America. But when it comes down to it, guilt, embarrassment, and fear are not good reasons to do anything, and will only make me resentful if I stay.

It took a lot to get here. I put consideration into PC for years, and had to take a second job, empty out a retirement account, and sell my car in order to pay off my debts and travel to Rwanda.  And I think Peace Corps Rwanda has a good program with great staff, thorough trainings, and volunteers who are doing some really great work around the country. I don’t want to sound like my quitting is a diss of the Peace Corps. This was definitely a worthwhile growth experience for me, but just not a good fit. In other words I don’t regret coming here, but I would regret staying here. Some other volunteers have tried to assuage my concerns by assuring me that time flies; or saying that it’s normal for bouts of depression to come and go throughout your Peace Corps service. But frankly I don’t want time to fly, and I don’t want unhappiness to be the norm. Life is too short.

Sorry for the blathering of this post, but I think partly I needed to compile these thoughts in order to convince myself that I am making the right decision. And you know what? I am. See you soon, America. Someone should alert the Taco Bell in Wrightstown, New Jersey to stock up…

Outstanding American Food Collage

Recently I visited the Peace Corps office to have an infected finger treated by the doc. That night while staying at the office dorm and shooting the breeze with some other volunteers, I spotted a photo of mouth watering beef and veggies in Us Weekly that just looked so right. Unfortunately, it only took me a moment to realize I was salivating at an advertisement for dog food. It was then that my PCV cohorts Geoff, Kayla, Tim and I decided to scour all of the copies of trashy American magazines we could find lying around to create an epic collage of delicious longed-for treats. I would call this my greatest accomplishment in Rwanda thus far. You'll notice we included the dog food ad on the top left directly under the hot dog. 

A shot of Kayla next to the collage for scale:

Things have been kind of rough out here lately, trying to figure out my place and feeling extremely homesick/depressed. Add to that the oddness of being the constant center of attention including stares, calls of umuzungu etc., plus the obvious lack of creature comforts and, as this post points out... FOOD! Sometimes I actually envision myself just getting on a plane out of here. Not sure if that's the normal jitters 4 months in or if this is maybe a wrong fit. But a decision like that involves a whole different set of concerns--feeling like a failure, disappointing myself, family and friends, and so many other complicated emotions. I have a training coming up next week and am hoping that will help me to get my head straight. As they say in Kinyarwanda, tuzareba (we shall see).

MTV Cribs: Peace Corps Edition

Today I’m going to take you on a tour of my Rwandan mansion, or as I like to call it—the tool shed. When I first checked out this house on my site visit I was terrified. It was very small by American standards, the inside hadn’t been painted and there were coal stove smoke stains on the walls. When I moved in, I was happy to see that the place had been brightened up with yellow paint, but I initially had no furniture other than 2 plastic chairs. Over the last couple of months I’ve tried to make it feel more like home, but it’s a work in progress. So first off to clarify, I do not live with a roommate or host family, but there are neighbors next door who I eat with occasionally. I have electricity, though sometimes when it rains the power cuts out. And I don’t have indoor plumbing of any kind, but there is an outdoor spigot nearby where I can fetch water. I have phone and 3G Internet access, but the latter can be slow and choppy so watching streaming video doesn't really work. Also, a couple of people have pointed out that my town does not exist on some maps, so below you can see the Google map images indicating with a blue dot where my house is—in the SW, directly on Lake Kivu. 

Well, here you have the exterior. The boundary of my house stops at the metal fence on the right, though it shares an interior wall with another house. I put up a clothes line in the front with blue twine and I have a mango tree, which should be neat when it’s in season.

Inside you can see some of the furniture I had made by a local carpenter—a big cabinet where I keep food, cooking supplies, books, etc., and a table. I love my world map—many thanks to my friend Brian for the gift!

On the right I have some photos and post cards from home, then on the far left you can see my Peace Corps-issued water filter as well as a handy dish drying thingy I picked up in Kigali.

In the corner next to the door is a “wet station” of sorts where I hang towels and keep the water jugs and basins that I use for washing clothes and dishes.

The bedroom is pretty basic. I keep the mosquito net up all the time which feels like being in a fort. My favorite thing in this house is the floor mat because it’s the only place I can walk in Rwanda barefoot. Literally all floors here are concrete and it’s not like you can really Swiffer them so even when clean, the floor is actually quite dirty. And if you don’t wear shoes outside you can easily get jiggers, the African version of chiggers, which I hear are no fun and have to be cut out of your foot by the PC Medical Officer.

Next we have the bathroom and shower area. I only use the 2 doors on the far right.

The latrine is pretty basic. It’s your classic squat and squirt situation.

The shower is just a room where you bring your bucket. I keep the mop in there so I can remove the water when I’m finished.

Then I have this odd unconnected room which has some wood-burning stoves (in the center of the photo) that I never use. I just use it as storage for my bike, rain boots, and cleaning supplies. When my hot plate was broken I cooked on the coal stove in here.

Next up, the good ‘ole water spigot.

And finally the communal trash area. Basically just a patch of soil between some banana trees. Werd.

So I know it’s not exactly glamorous, but this is my home for the time being and it’s grown on me. I miss America constantly and the days are mostly long and boring right now, so having a private place to come and chill is a nice luxury. Also, while writing this post I had a good laugh thinking about all the times back in Boston when I went searching for apartments, demanding on-site laundry facilities and a dishwasher. Luckily it doesn’t get too cold or unbearably hot here because heating and cooling systems of any kind... yeah they don't exist. Lol It’s a change of pace to say the least, but I consider myself lucky since some volunteers don't have electricity, a water spigot, or even a paved road with regular transportation!

Abe "Lincorn," Evil Mastermind?

I want to start off by sharing one of the most ridonk things I have seen in this country (aside from a poster of American rap moguls wherein a photo of 50 Cent was labeled 50%. This is basically a horror movie DVD cover called “Illuminati 4: The Antichrist,” and it features photos of Justin Bieber, Hitler, the Pope, and Abraham “Lincorn,” which I’d like to point out is actually George Washington. Or maybe GW's evil twin? Aside from Hitler, I’m not sure who the good and bad guys are in this scenario. 

Strange DVD covers aside, I've made a bit of progress recently. First off, I attended an event in Kamembe last month (a bigger town about 90 minutes away) led by some other Peace Corps Volunteers. I pretty much just observed since they planned this activity prior to my arrival here. Local high school students presented pre-prepared skits about HIV/AIDS and heard lessons about prevention/stigmas etc. Many of the skits involved songs and I realized just how many young aspiring hip hop stars there are in Rwanda. lol Another volunteer who is working for an NGO in my district has a supervisor living in Kamembe and we stayed with his family during our visit. These folks had a huge home with indoor plumbing, satellite television, and even a lawn—just goes to show how different Rwandan circumstances are (though on the other hand they don’t have hot water and cook on a wood stove). This family was so great—we got a tour of the city, delicious home-cooked meals, interesting conversation, and a chance to watch the Style Network. On that note, I did not know that Tia and Tamara Mowry have their own reality show, but watching it in a developing country made me realize why some foreigners hate America.

From Kamembe I took a 7-hour bus ride to Kigali to run errands with another PCV. This was a great excuse to visit a random hole-in-the-wall restaurant called Lil’ Vegas where you can play slot machines and indulge in American-style chicken fingers and onion rings while watching Beyoncé music videos. The return trip to my site featured more music videos, but this time they were Rwandan, and playing on a bus TV screen. Yes, I was on a ginormous bus with a TV screen! Not sure when they bad boys were rolled out, but I am hoping I’m lucky enough to hop on one again the next time I have to travel to the city. Visiting Kigali is a strange experience because it’s like a vacation from village life, but everything is crazy expensive when you’re on a Peace Corps budget. I felt spoiled to stay in a hotel room with running water, but then ended up with about a dozen mysterious insect bites in my sleep. And in some ways Kigali feels safer than the village because you can walk around at night (which I never do at site), but I was also hyper on-guard in crowded areas like the bus station due to recent grenade attacks. So it’s definitely a place to visit once in a while when you need a dose of semi-anonymity and western food, but it’s not going to be a frequent occurrence for me. That being said, I did purchase a new hot plate which I am pretty excited about, so it was a worthwhile trip overall.

When I got back, I toured Kibogura Hospital, which is located about a 20-minute drive from me, and was surprised to find out that it’s a really large, well-equipped facility with foreigners passing through pretty frequently. I even met an American woman who will be living in Nyamasheke for at least the next year and had some really good insights to share about her experience so far. 

I then met a Ugandan woman who is mentoring teachers at the local school on how to instruct in English and adopt a student-centered vs. teacher-centered teaching approach. This mentoring program was implemented by the Rwandan government after they switched from a French-speaking to English-speaking education system back in 2009. Rwanda is moving forward pretty ambitiously with a program called Vision 2020 and education seems to be a big part of making this country an international player. The teacher I met is a great resource and it looks like we’re going to pair up to start some student clubs in January. She then introduced me to a woman from Zimbabwe working with Volunteers Serving Abroad who, prior to my arrival, partnered with EDC (the company I worked at prior to Peace Corps, which also has an office in Rwanda) to start a library nearby. The library is supposed to become mobile and visit neighboring communities including my town, so I'm planning to get on board with that project and see how I can help. 

In other news, last weekend I assisted with a malaria prevention event at another PCV's secondary school. The activity I was assigned to help with involved students making a "dream banner" with words and photos describing their goals—then placing the banner under a mosquito net to demonstrate how protecting yourself from malaria can protect your dreams. I’m happy to have some activities like this on the agenda because I've been doing a lot of watching and not a lot of doing recently. Feeling guilty about having too much down time to play Candy Crush and watch Always Sunny in Philadelphia, I've made a concerted effort to try to explore the area more and work on the Peace Corps Community Needs Report I'm required to complete. Part of this assessment included checking on the current status of an animal husbandry project started by the previous volunteer at my site. It looks to be doing well at the moment, and I am trying to get a meeting set up to discuss how to start breeding the pigs she distributed.

And finally, just a completely unrelated big-picture note, there was recently a parliamentary election which resulted in the number of seats held by women increasing from 56 to 64%. Way to go ladies—exciting times for Rwanda!

Rwandan Kiddos

I did a little write up about my thoughts on Rwandan youngsters when we completed training and am just now getting around to posting it. 

So the kids here are way more independent and self-sufficient than in American. No contest. Basically there are children of all ages wandering about willy nilly—with or without adult supervision. For babies, the mama will carry her kid on her back, held on by some fabric. For the most part, kids are playing ball in the street, wandering around miles from their homes, or maybe forming a mass entourage to follow some weirdo stranger like myself. They also like to gather on the side of the road and wait for the abazungu (Americans) to pass so that we can do a fist bump that they call “chance” here. I've taught them to add the explosion part. I also made it my goal to get all of the neighborhood kids to say "dude." I think so far that's been moderately successful.

For fun, my host siblings like to gukina umupira (play ball). Usually the ball is some ad hoc deal fashioned out of plastic bags. On that note, I haven’t seen a lot of toys in the villages generally. Usually you’ve got your plastic bag ball, an old bicycle tire that you push around with a stick, or some other contraption you’ve fashioned yourself to play with. And there’s no complaining about it either. They just like to have fun any way they can and don’t need all the gizmos American kids sometimes take for granted. You can buy all sorts of toys in Kigali but I’m sure price point is an issue as well. They were pretty pumped the day I brought a dozen slap bracelets back from a visit to the capital.

Slap bracelets!!!

Another favorite pastime is listening to the radio. Whether they’ve got on some Rwandan tunes or are jamming out to American music (it seems people particularly like Celine Dion, Bryan Adams, Rick Ross, and Rhianna lol), my host kids love spontaneous dance parties. And surprisingly, when I played them a song I downloaded to learn the numbers from 1 to 10 in Kinyarwanda, they memorized the melody in like 10 seconds and were singing it for weeks. On that note, I’ve noticed that kids here are generally awesome at memorization. My host sister Grace loves to play a card game where you place all of the cards face down on a table and have to take turns trying to find matches. And she's pretty damn good—schooled me every time we played. I also taught one girl a clapping song/game that a few volunteers and myself created to teach kids about hand-washing. She literally learned the song in about 2 minutes and was still doing it a month later. My host siblings sometimes like to read and draw when they're bored at night, but it's difficult without electricity. Sometimes when I pulled out my solar lamp the kids would grab a social studies booklet from school to read or ask me to bring out my Rwanda travel manual so that they could try to read the Kinyarwanda/English translation section, or just look at photos of animals.

The kids reading a school book with my solar lamp

Kids chilling in the kitchen

When they’re not playing they’re in school or working—tending to the cows, cleaning the house, washing dishes, fetching the water, etc. Lots of responsibility to contribute, in exchange for a roof over their heads. A cool discovery I made was that my host bro is handy around the house/an aspiring electrician. They teach some basic info about batteries at school and this kid can take 2 D-cells and fashion a make-shift light like it aint no thang. When he hooked up a light in the bathroom one day, complete with exterior switch, I was a happy camper. Don’t underestimate the difficulty of peeing in the dark.

Simon Pierre: Rwandan electrician extraordinaire 

I'm interested to see how the kids in Nyamasheke compare to my buddies at my training site in Kamonyi. Time will tell!

PS I literally just got electrocuted by my computer adapter while writing this. Hope it was worth it. haha

The Day My Hot Plate Died

During the first couple of weeks here, I relied pretty heavily on my hot plate. Oftentimes, I thought to myself “What would I do without this awesome device?!” Then at the start of week 3, it went to meet that Big Man in the sky. Unfortunately, the death of this beloved item came on the same day that I was sent home by my health center for having a cold. So basically I go home to rest and eventually drag myself out of bed with the intention of making lunch. I finish all the prep work  only to then find out that the hot plate is kaput and I have no way to cook the damn stuff. Luckily I own a coal stove, but…no coal. So I put on some rain boots (it’s about to storm) and hobble down the street to some shops in the hopes that I will be able to locate coal. After looking in a few stores to no avail and having one woman tell me I would need to travel 90 minutes away to purchase some, I basically decide to stand in the middle of the street on the verge of tears moping in Kinyarwanda that I’m sick and hungry and just want coal to cook, until luckily an onlooker takes pity on me and helps me find a guy selling some out of his house. I cannot tell you how relieved I was in that moment. At home, I struggled to figure out how to light the stove until I finally asked my neighbor for help. In the end, I got it to work and actually cooked real food at my site sans electricity. For me this story brings up 3 important points:

1. It amazes me that many Rwandans cook on a coal stove every day, as it is my opinion that this is a difficult, messy, time consuming pain in the ass.
2. Rwandans are extremely helpful. Over the last 3 months I have had people bend over backwards to help me figure things out without expecting anything in return.
3. I miss American kitchens, but feel some personal satisfaction that this story ended in me successfully using a charcoal stove.

The good news is that as a result of this mishap, I decided to ask my neighbors if it would be alright for me to eat with them sometimes and they seemed on board. I have already had lunch and dinner with them a couple of times and I’m hoping to make this an ongoing thing. They seem to enjoy being friends with the foreigner next door and I certainly enjoy eating food that I don’t have to cook. Makes me wonder if I would have previously been as generous to a confused foreign neighbor in America…food for thought. Generally, I’ve been doing much better at site since the last post. I received some of my furniture from the carpenter, which is great. Here’s a photo of some dudes transporting my bed and kitchen table down the street via their noggins.

I also learned that a papaya looks a lot like a large avocado…after accidentally purchasing what I thought was an avocado, only to be very confused upon cutting it open. Work wise, I feel like I have some concrete plans on the horizon. I signed up to help out with a couple of upcoming girls camps and a 6-day (100 mile) malaria prevention bike trip. More to come on the bike trip, but I am NOT in shape and I might die. lol At the health center I helped out with a baby-weighing, which involved a ton of local women coming in with their babies (ages 0-5) to check for malnutrition. First we put each kid on this wooden plank that measures his/her height. Then he/she has to sit in these little blue shorts that you attach to a scale hanging from a rafter. And the kid just kind of hangs there in the air for a minute squirming around until you can get a read on the weight. And the final step is to use this little measuring tape called MUAC on their arm to determine bicep width. This was a rough day for me, as it involved speaking/understanding a lot of numbers in Kinyarwanda, interacting with many people at once including terrified screaming babies (in the baking hot sun) and attempting to write down Rwandan surnames that are super confusing to spell. At one point my supervisor Jeanne was like “You got this, right?” and then walked away to take care of something else. During the 10 minutes she was gone, I fumbled around trying to figure out what the hell I was doing and trying not to panic. By the end I basically felt like a big time failure, but Jeanne was really supportive and assured me that I am an umuhanga (smart person) and that I just need practice. Overall, it was a good experience to be a part of, and an activity I will probably be helping out with more in the future. It was sad to see that some of the kids were, in fact, suffering from malnutrition, but luckily the health center gave out boxes of shelf-stable milk to the mothers of those particular children. And they did some follow-up home visits, which I also tagged along on.

Before I forget, a belated thanks to everyone for the much-appreciated birthday wishes. Last weekend I was at a regional meeting in a larger town about an hour and a half from mine. I was able to hang out with some seasoned volunteers to talk about trials and triumphs of being a PC volunteer. They were very welcoming and even made me a bday card and some banana bread, which I was able to enjoy with an adult beverage. So woot woot to that. Additionally, my awesome friends Kate and Nick back in Boston gave birth to a sweet little baby named Cole during the same week, so congrats to them! I am sad to not be around to great this little dude, but pumped that our birthdays are so close. Maybe we can host joint Power Rangers-themed bday parties post Peace Corps? Just throwing the idea out there. I mean it’s cool if they’re pirate or Star Wars-themed too. I’m not picky—whatever he’s down with. haha

First Week at Site

Day 1:

I depart the Peace Corps office with 1 other volunteer and 2 staff members. We’re headed to the Southwestern part of the country in a car filled with stuff that I and my friend Rebecca purchased in Kigali. We travel along paved roads for maybe 4+ hours, then turn off onto literally the worst dirt road I have ever encountered. We’re in an African forest and the scenery around me looks like a set out of Jurassic Park, but our Rwandan driver is listening to an American hip hop playlist that includes Chris Brown’s “Jungle Beats.” It’s a surreal moment. Eventually we pull into Rebecca’s site with a hoard of kids chasing after our vehicle, and I help unload her stuff. She is legit in the middle of nowhere, in a valley bordering Nyungwe National Park. We say goodbye and head for my site, taking a different, though equally bumpy, road. We encounter a family of large baboons chilling in the middle of the road and my mind is boggled. Eventually it ends at the next paved road. When we arrive at my site, there are staff members in front of the health center waving at me. We walk over to my house for an inspection, and I am pleasantly surprised to see that the inside has been painted and it feels bigger now. I have electricity. Huzzah. At 6pm the power dies, so I set aside my hot plate and eat some peanut butter.

Road baboon...just hangin'

Day 2:

I miss the daily 7am health center meeting because I didn’t know I was supposed to be there. My bad. I decide to settle into my house by washing all of the dishes, cookware, and clothing I own. Then I clean and hang my mosquito net. I have met a few neighbors, but am too nervous to leave my home. I cook macaroni and it is delicious. I grow some cajones and venture to the market, which runs twice a week and is about a 30 minute walk. On the way, I run into a random guy on the street who wants to chat. At the market, my new friend helps me buy a coal stove and some vegetables. I feel like everyone there is trying to rip me off, but that could be my imagination. As I head off, the dude wants my phone number or email address. I evade so as not to send the wrong signal. At home, I do some more setup around the house and at 6pm the power goes out again. I have battery left on my laptop so I watch Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. The power comes back on and I cook a scrabbled egg.

Day 3:

I wake up at 6am, bucket bath, and head to the Health Center. It’s cold and I only brought a scarf to the meeting. People start to enter and introduce themselves to me, but I wonder if I will ever be able to remember all of these names. The meeting is about an hour long—in Kinyarwanda and French. I have no idea what’s going on and zone out almost immediately. At one point I am snapped out of my blank stare by the tutilaire (big boss) at the health center who asks me to get up and talk about myself. I say a few words and apologize that I can’t understand anything. The meeting ends and my supervisor asks me what I want to do today. I have no freaking clue. I tell him I’m going to explore the town. But I’m tired from watching Harry Potter all night, so I go home and nap for an hour. I boil water to heat up an instant soup package I brought from the states. Then I muster the courage to leave my house again. I visit some local stores to meet people and sample their wares. I buy nails from a friendly shopkeeper, but when I ask him his name, he’s suspicious (why is this wacky foreign lady writing my name down in a tiny notebook?) Valid concern. I find a store with cold Fanta and drink it while talking to the shopkeeper about her children. She says many things in Kinyarwanda that I do not understand. I smile and nod. At home later, I decide to try and scrub some mystery stains out of a t-shirt. After 1 hour of this, I realize it’s a lost cause. I go inside and text with a friend back home using “What’s App” on my phone. I have no idea what to do with myself. I cry for a little while. I think about American chain restaurants like TGIFridays. I wonder how I can possibly help these people, as I have no knowledge of health issues and only a basic understanding of their language. I remember I bought popcorn kernels in Kigali and make some to eat while watching Game of Thrones. I go outside to wash dishes and realize that the neighbor’s chicken has pooped on my doorstep again. I meet up with my supervisor and we walk to the carpenter’s shop where we bargain over furniture I need made for my apartment—a table, kitchen cabinet, clothing dresser and bed frame. I end up spending less money than I anticipated thanks to some great negotiating skills on the part of my supervisor. He doesn’t want me to get charged the “umuzungu (white person) price.” I go home feeling awesome and proceed to change the cylinder on my door lock—it takes forever but eventually I am successful. Badass.

Day 4:

I arrive at the health center carrying a travel coffee mug and people are perplexed. I have seen this response before. I explain that it contains tea. I can’t tell if they think it’s cool or super weird. I decide to shadow some people at the health center and see what they do. They have a fairly large operation with at least 30 employees at this facility with many rooms for reception, consultations, insurance processing, maternity, AIDS counseling, a pharmacy and more. I chill out at the reception desk for most of the morning. I see an old man wearing a baseball cap that says “50 Cent.” I sit in on a meeting of some community health workers while they collaborate on a monthly report. Many people at the health center speak a little English and I am able to figure out what’s going on to some extent. I drop my coffee mug and it breaks. I decide to do lunch and my counterpart suggests I also take a “siesta” if I feel so inclined. So I promptly take a 2 hour lunch break that includes a 90 minute nap. I could get used to this. After work I find a couple of stores that sell pineapple and avocado. I am ecstatic. At home, I’m cutting some pineapple while 2 guys approach my front door, which is locked from the inside. I great them through the window and then explain in Kinyarwanda that I lock the door because I’ve heard it’s “bad culture” for men to visit women alone at home. They agree, apologize, and inform me that they are 2 big-shot community leaders who have come to welcome me. I feel like an asshole and go outside to exchange names and phone numbers. They leave and I receive an email from the Peace Corps that the Northwestern province of Rubavu has been deemed off limits to volunteers after some recent violence on the Congo border. Luckily I live in the Southwest, far from where these incidents are happening.

Day 5:

I spend the morning sitting in on consultations between the HC staff and a slew of patients. It’s interesting to watch the nurses diagnose people and prescribe medicines/behavior changes. The doctor thinks I must have been a nurse in America because I know what antibiotics are, and I explain that this is not the case. He quizzes me on ways that mothers can use hygiene methods to protect their children from getting diarrhea, and I surprise myself by actually knowing how to respond—sort of. Thanks, Peace Corps training! Around noon I head home for lunch. Then I decide to ride my PC-issued bike to the local market. I get a lot of weird looks on the way, but that’s pretty standard fare even without the bike. Some high school kids want to talk to me in English and are upset when I tell them I’d like to ride my bike to the market instead. They ask why I’m in such a hurry so I walk the bike while talking with them. At the market I decide that bike+market=terrible idea. The isles are small and EVERYONE is staring at me. I feel weird and try to laugh at myself and greet them all with a smile even though I feel like an idiot. On the way home, most of the ride is downhill and I speed along at like 30 miles an hour greeting people and avoiding various hazards like goats and small children. I find a store near my house selling chocolates in the shape of race cars. SCORE! At home, my landlord walks by while I’m washing my shoes and I ask him if there is a place to put trash (as I have been stockpiling it in my house for the last 5 days). He shows me a trash pile I hadn’t noticed previously and I am pretty pumped because now my house won’t smell like rotting onions. I decide to create a 90’s playlist on my iPod that includes BBMak and Chubawamba. I listen to it while making guacamole.

Day 6:

I’m supposed to go to an event called “umuganda.” It occurs on the last Saturday of every month and consists of people in the community meeting up to do some type of service—fix a road, build a house for a needy neighbor etc. However, my efforts to find out where it’s occurring today are in vain and it’s raining so I wonder if it’s been cancelled anyway. Not sure what to do so I make coffee in a French press that I bought for cheap in Kigali. Then I hand wash my clothes and watch 4 episodes of Flight of the Concords.  I’m feeling extremely lonely. My mom calls to give me a pep talk. I decide to leave my house and visit the health center where I greet a few people working the weekend shift. Then I visit a local store and talk to some teenage girls who have come in to escape the rain that’s started up again.

Day 7:

It’s pouring all night and when I wake up the electricity is out so I skip boiling my water and take a cold bucket bath. I accompany my neighbor to a local church in order to meet people and learn some Rwandan culture. The service is 3 hours long—pretty normal here. By hour 3, it’s funny to look around and see a handful of people sleeping. A guy sitting next to me speaks some English and is able to give me the cliff notes of what’s going on. As with the church at my training site, there are many choirs and lots of singing. As the service ends and I’m about to exit, I’m approached by a semi-English-speaking guy who is walking my way and wants to accompany me. I learn that he teaches at a local school. He wants to show it to me. I would really like to go home and eat lunch but I decide to be polite and go with him to see the school. We pass a nun speaking with another woman. She asks the man if I am his inshuti (which means friend, but in common use between adults means boy/girlfriend). I immediately explain that I am a Peace Corps volunteer and that we just met at church. He is my mugenzi (FRIEND only). This guy wants to know if I live alone and how much I pay for rent. Evade evade. He’d like to get my phone number and email address and asks about visiting me. I hesitatingly give him my email but explain that I will not be having male visitors at my home. He would like me to visit his house now. I say that this is not possible because it is culturally inappropriate. He disagrees and says that it’s fine. That’s my cue to take off. I thank him for welcoming me to the community and head home. Not sure what to make of this situation. He seemed harmless, but I know from my Peace Corps training to be cautious. I head home feeling somewhat discouraged because it’s difficult to know who to trust and how to act appropriately in this new community. I cook some hard boiled eggs and feel successful since I’m not really getting any other protein at the moment. Then I study some Kinyarwanda and fall asleep. At 1am I wake up to pee, but I feel weird about going outside alone in the dark and walking the 10 yards to my latrine, so I pee in a cup instead. I’m pretty grossed out by myself.

Day 8:

My morning at the health center is good. I sit in on some meetings with AIDS patients and then watch a couple of other staff members dealing with insurance processing. I meet a coworker’s 7-year-old son who wants to be my friend. That’s cool by me since I’m in need of some. At lunch while I’m boiling more eggs, the surge protector goes haywire and starts smoking. Within the few moments it takes me to unplug it, the cord has actually melted to itself. I check the other one I bought, and as if on cue, that one has died as well. I don’t know how to dispose of electronics in Africa, so into the latrine they go. Reflecting on the past week, I can say I’ve had some ups and downs. Nyamasheke seems like a nice place, but I miss home—family, friends, food, and even just basic American amenities like across-the-board indoor plumbing. I wish I spoke French as many people here do and it would make my life much easier. Not sure what to do with all these feelings. Just going to stick it out and play it by ear. Two years suddenly seems longer than ever.

Family Farewell & Our Swearing-In

In America, at times of increased anxiety, I have a reoccurring stress dream that I own a dog who I then forget to feed. I go about my business completing various dream tasks and then suddenly remember about the poor starving dog that I was entrusted with, at which point I immediately wake up in a panic. Last week I had this same dream, but the dog was replaced with a goat. Not even kidding you. Makes sense, as I am currently in a weird transitional stage where training ends and my service at site begins. Last week we said goodbye to our host families. There was a going away lunch where some volunteers did speeches in Kinyarwanda. Then we "wowed” them with our ridiculous impression of a traditional Rwandan dance followed by celebratory potatoes and Fanta. Good times.

Bre and I at the host family farewell. Twinsies!

It was exciting to finish with the language training and pass the required final test/interview, but separating from our host fams was definitely a bummer. I played one last game of cards with a bunch of  kids crammed into the living room the night before I left, and my host mom made a dish called isombe that I like (it’s like a mash of greens that’s slow-cooked for hours). They gave me a cool piece of igitenge (fabric you can buy at the markets here to have clothes made by a seamstress). And I gave them some photos of the family that I took and then had printed out in town. 

My host familia (Papa Emmanuel, Mama Bernadette, Daniel, Simon Pierre, and Grace)

After leaving the training site we headed off to Kigali where we officially swore in as Peace Corps volunteers in a ceremony at the American ambassador’s residence.That evening a volunteer living in Kigali threw a shindig of sorts, followed by a trip to a local bar which featured a pretty killer mix of American/Rwandan dance music. Otherwise the last 3 days have mostly consisted of purchasing things for my empty house—plastic chairs, food, cooking supplies, etc. And I’ve gotten a chance to try out some coffee shops and restaurants in the area including a killer burger joint, a burrito place where you can order margaritas, and a fancy Japanese spot (which I quickly learned I will never be able to afford again). Tomorrow I’ll be driven from Kigali to my site in a Peace Corps car and then I’ll watch in dismay as they drive away and leave me to fend for myself. Wish me luck, ya’ll. It’s about to get real up in here.

Murabeho (Goodbye for a long time), Mr. Chicken

Some events that merit a mention this week:

The embassy was temporarily closed, along with select others around the world due to recent international events and the interception of terrorist chatter which implied these locations might be the target of attacks. Apparently the U.S. embassy here has a fence instead of a brick wall surrounding it, making it appear to be more vulnerable than others. That being said, I hear it’s a lot more formidable than the previous embassy building which was so small that when the Americans moved out, it was converted into a pharmacy! In response to the embassy closure, Peace Corps shut down their Rwanda office for the week, but this did not affect me since our training site is located outside of Kigali.

On the touristy front, we took a field trip to the National Ethnographic Museum in Butare and saw this old-school Rwandan house:

There were a lot of interesting exhibits about Rwandan geology, agriculture, goods, traditions, and history. One section I found interesting involved divining, or the act of telling a person’s future through various means, such as throwing some small pieces of wood down and interpreting based on how they fall, or gazing into a pile of animal fat/intestines. 

Butare is a larger city, so after our tour of the museum we ate lunch in town and I enjoyed pizza, fries, AND a burrito. Extravagant, I know, but to be fair I went halfsies with a friend. On the return trip we had a random monkey sighting—like a dozen little guys just hanging out near the side of the road. One of our language instructors said that when she attended college at the National University in Butare, the monkeys would come to soccer games to sit on the sidelines and watch. How great would it be to have a cheerleading squad composed of primates?

In other news, on Saturday I watched a chicken get murdered. True story. P.C. set aside an afternoon for us to cook a meal for 30 people using only charcoal stoves. We decided to whip up some American dishes including garlic mashed potatoes and fried chicken. The team cooking chicken went all out and purchased 2 live cluckers. Then our Rwandan teachers gave us a crash course on how you procure meat when you don’t live down the street from a Stop&Shop. I decided this was probably something I should witness since I eat chicken frequently, but have never watched one meet its demise. It was pretty weird—way less noise than I expected, a lot of blood splatter, and some creepy squirming on the part of our main course. Needless to say, I don’t feel the need to see that again or to kill my own chicken in the near future. Some people took photos but I felt like you folks don’t need to see that. The phrase “Ignorance is bliss” never seemed more applicable.

Current Events and My Kigali Discoveries

This past week had some intense moments and I want to touch on them, but not make them the only focus of this post. Though I appreciate the seriousness of these occurrences, I’m basically just taking it one day at a time here and making the most of the positives. First off, I am sorry to report that there was a grenade explosion in a Kigali bus station called Nyabugogo on July 26th. From what I know, 3 people were killed and approximately 30 injured. To be honest, I am so out of the information loop here that I probably would not even have known about it if I had not received texts and emails from the Peace Corps detailing the incident and ways to stay safe when visiting the capital. Upon hearing this, I also took the initiative to sign up for travel alerts from the US Embassy in Rwanda, so although I was sad to hear this news for the victims and their families, I do not currently feel unsafe. 

Second thing to note is that there have been some incidences of violence on the Rwanda/Democratic Republic of Congo border recently. I’m not even going to get into the history of this, as it’s a complicated situation that I only loosely understand, and may try to address later in a more extensive blog post. For the moment though, you can find info about the current situation by clicking here for a CNN article I came across. Right now, I’m training in the central part of the country, and my future site, although located on the Western border, is separated from DRC by a very large lake called Kivu. These border incidents are occurring in the North Western part of the country, and not in the area where I am living or will be living later.

Lastly on the sobering news front, Peace Corps gave us the opportunity to visit the Kigali Memorial Center last weekend. In addition to a series of mass graves encased in concrete, the museum site consists of an exhibition chronicling the events surrounding the 1994 genocide. It was an intense experience to visit this memorial and to learn that there are over 250,000 people buried at this site alone. 

There was also an exhibit that discussed other genocides that have occurred throughout world history. The memorial spoke volumes about how far this country has come that they have taken such steps to educate the public and prevent this type of atrocity from happening again. That being said, I have to say that prior to coming here, it was hard for me to imagine how a country that has seen so much turmoil could get back on its feet again. I imagined Rwanda being a very serious place where lightheartedness might be hard to come by. However, I've realized that it's quite the opposite. So far, I have seen in Rwanda a sense of progress and hope that is really fantastic. Although I know there will come a time when some Rwandans close to me may begin to open up about their experiences in a way that may be difficult for me to hear, on the surface it seems that people do not let their past hold them back from promising futures. People go to work, they attend school and church, they invite friends over for dinner, and just live regular lives. And there is such a great sense of community here that people are always generous with their greetings, smiles, and in the case of children, fist pounds. So to close off this post on a lighter note, I’ll talk about the experience I had in Kigali after our visit to the memorial and the pleasant surprises I found there.

Treat #1: A trip to the annual Rwanda International Trade Fair, which showcased some of handmade crafts/goods produced across Africa, booths for local banks and phone companies, Slap Chop-esq gadget demonstrations, and more. I was especially amused to come across this Barack Obama wall tapestry. Score.

Treat #2: A double-decker cheeseburger. ‘Nuff said.

Treat #3: Discovering that there are stores in Kigali that look like the photo below. Check out the variety! I bought myself a notebook with lined paper, which is a rarity here (most notebooks in Rwanda have graph paper) and I gifted myself a pretty sweet travel mug as well. This last one is important because it seems that the concept of getting coffee or tea "to go" in this country does not exist. You have to drink your beverage where you buy it, or B.Y.O.Thermos. lol This store even sold electric tea kettles and fluffy pillows. You better believe I’m getting one of each.

And on that note, that's all for this post. Have a great weekend, folks.

Win Some, Lose Some

Last week was a whirlwind. I traveled with the other volunteers to the capital, Kigali, where we stayed at a hotel and met our respective site supervisors. After a couple of days of volunteer/supervisor training, we separated and left to tour our individual sites. First, the pros.

Kigali seems like a cool place. We stayed at a nice hotel with a delicious buffet and copious amounts of coffee—I had like 3 cups a day and it was amazing. The hotel was located right across from the national soccer stadium where a big concert was taking place, so we had a chance to go over and hear some Rwandan jams. There were a lot of foreign folks there, and because we were in the big city no kids were pointing and yelling at us. The stores in Kigali also offer a lot of different items that are harder to get out in the villages. I purchased some peanut butter and Pringles for myself, and some chocolate for my host family. Then one evening we went out to dinner for a fellow volunteer’s birthday and had some legit Italian pizza that was a real treat. And the actual Peace Corps training content was great too.

The drive out to my site was long (about 8 hours), but it was a very interesting trip. We drove through cities, small villages, and a refugee camp of about 20,000 people from the Democratic Republic of Congo. We passed hills with lush farms, bright green tea plantations, rice paddies, and a local juice company. There was even a sort of rest stop where you can buy popcorn, sodas, candy, and all sorts of other goodies. Closer to my site, we spent an hour driving through the windy road of Nyungwe National Park where we saw some small monkeys hanging out near the edge of the forest. Much of the road between the park and my home is newly paved, only about 9 months old, so that that was a cool and welcome discovery. My site, in the district of Nyamasheke and village of Gikuyu, is right next to Lake Kivu on the far Eastern border of the country; so I have a beautiful view.

Me pointing to the general area of where my site is located.

Lake Kivu

My supervisor, Emmanuel, attended the training with me and accompanied me back to Nyamasheke. Emmanuel is a nurse at the health center and was super welcoming and excited to work with me. At the health center, people were enthusiastic about having a Peace Corps volunteer, which was a relief, and a number of them spoke English. People seemed pleased at the little amount of Kinyarwanda I’ve learned, and were happy to hear a foreigner speak their language. I learned that the health center has some specific expectations for the areas they want me to work in, which are community education in nutrition and hygiene, and assisting their staff to learn English. Good to have some understanding in advance of the types of projects I might be able to initiate.

Now for the cons. Upon completing our long journey from Kigali to Nyamasheke, my supervisor took me to a local restaurant. The waitress brought out a pitcher of hot water with some soap for hand washing, which lulled me into a false sense of hygiene security. So when they presented a platter of lettuce and tomatoes cut into the shape of roses, I stupidly ignored the Peace Corps’ advice not to eat uncooked veggies (because they may be improperly washed and harboring bacteria). I paid the price, and spent about 30 hours in the bathroom with fluids coming out of one end or the other. Luckily I was staying in a temporary guest room that had a flushing toilet. Plus the Peace Corps doctor was great about checking in and making sure I took the proper meds from my first aid kit. That being said, it was a rough day and I felt pretty depressed that I missed out on time I could have spent exploring my site. The next day, I was brought back to the same restaurant twice for additional meals, and discovered that the latrines there were pretty disgusting. To make matters worse I saw a dead mouse lying near the dish washing area. So yeahhhhh….not surprised about the food poisoning in retrospect. Lesson learned, kids.

Another moment of questionable sanitation standards occurred when I purchased a water bottle from a local market, drank from it, and then realized the bottle had a large crack that had be sealed with a piece of scotch tape. Not cool. Basically that means I drank water that could have been contaminated, all because some store owner wanted to save a few cents rather than throw out a damaged water bottle. My supervisor was super pissed by this and actually spent over an hour trying to shame the shopkeeper, calling the health center to report the issue, and determining how to alert the local authorities. It was intense, but I appreciated his follow-up.

Unrelated con—there were a few awkward moments of people asking me about my marital status and religion. This was uncomfortable, but apparently a very normal Rwandan conversation topic with strangers. Once a woman turns 21 here she’s expected to start looking for a husband; and if she doesn’t have one by 30 it’s bad news. I think maybe this is different in parts of the country where you find lots of young, progressive, university-educated people. Some of the locals who inquired as to why I do not have a husband were satisfied at my response that I just want to travel, work, and learn at the moment. When that didn’t work, I tried the excuse that an American husband would not be keen on my leaving the country for over 2 years. And when that excuse did not work, I just accepted their puzzled or judgmental looks and changed the subject.

My final pro/con falls in both categories. I took a tour of my future house and had some super mixed feelings. Pros: it has electricity, is close to a water spigot, and has neighbors living close by in the same compound, which is great for security. Cons: it’s hella small with only 1 door and 2 windows. More like a shed than a house. My latrine and shower room are both wicked dark. And the neighbors seemed upset that the last volunteer wanted so much personal space. They were actually trying to get assurances from me that I would bond with them and invite them into my shed for visits. It was a lot to take in to say the least. And the trip back to my training site was also plagued by extreme motion sickness, so that put a bit of a damper on the visit as well.

In conclusion the last week had its ups and downs. It was interesting to hear about their site visits. Some people described their joy at being out in the middle of nowhere on high mountains or in deep valleys without running water or electricity. Others were excited to be close to the city with hot showers and power. On the opposite end of the spectrum, two people felt quite unwelcome in their health centers, and one actually ended up getting an immediate site change because it was determined that the community didn’t want a volunteer after all. So I feel like, for the moment, I’m just relieved to be assigned to an enthusiastic health center, and I guess I’ll form some more solid opinions when I move back permanently in September. For the moment, I’m just happy to be back at the training site with some time to reflect on my experience and make a game plan.

Some Scenes Around Town

This week I thought I’d post some photos to give you an idea of what it looks like in these here parts. On Sunday I’m headed to Kigali for a few days to meet the person who will be my on-site Rwandan counterpart in my permanent village. Then on Wednesday, I’ll travel with him or her out to my future site, where I’ll stay for the rest of the week to get the lay of the land, check out my living accommodations, visit the health center where I'll work, and figure out what types of items I will need to bring with me to site (pots and pans etc.) Also, in case you’re wondering, it took an absurdly long time to upload these photos (like 3 hours maybe), so in the future I’ll probably only be doing a few photos per post at most. Nice to be able to share the view once in a while though!

The front view of my host family's house. I think all of the homes in this area of made of mud brick and maybe concrete. Ours looks a bit fancier than some others I've seen that have plainer looking exteriors.

Went adventuring through some farmland across from my house and stumbled across this scenic vista.

Four days a week Bre (in the blue shirt) and I have our own private language classes with Liliose (in red). We also happen to own matching sandals. lol You can see the door to our classroom in the background.

A peek inside the classroom where the two of us learn Kinyarwanda.

This goat lives outside our classroom. He's pretty chill. He hangs out in the shade of some clothes drying on a tree; and he eats trash with his goat buddy (not pictured).Keep up the good work, guy.

Twice a week, Bre and I walk 30 minutes to the Peace Corps training "hub" where we meet with the larger group of 18 other trainees to learn about the Rwandan Health Care system, various health issues we may work on at site, personal safety, cultural expectations etc.

The view on our walk home from class at the hub. Not bad! That's all for now folks. Will let you know how this trip to Kigali/site visit turns out.