Let There Be Light!

Imagine that your power went out right now. You'd be pretty irritated, right? Probably call your electric company to find out what’s going on. Break out the flashlight and try to think of something fun to do that doesn’t need to be “plugged in.” Basically to be without electricity in the U.S. is kind of an oddity because it means that there is either an outage or a person lives so far out in the middle of nowhere that power does not reach him/her. Or maybe that person is intentionally living without this convenient utility in order to “rough it.” Before coming to Rwanda I wasn’t sure what to expect on this front, and the info I read online was unclear. Some current volunteers said that they live in villages where power exists but is only about 50% reliable. I also read that Rwanda is trying to step up its electricity game over the next few years. My village is definitely in a transitional stage at the moment. Part of the area is wired and the remaining section (which includes my host home) is not. However, there’s a large spool of electric cable in the middle of the road and a bunch of empty poles stretching to the far side of town. I even saw some guys felling a tree last week in order to string the cable from one post to another. I was so mesmerized by what seemed to be such a momentous event, that I didn’t realize the workers were trying to warn me to move out of the way. Luckily my fellow Peace Corps pal alerted me that I should probably step aside or end up a pancake.

I’ve learned that the electricity situation here is on a pay-as-you-go basis. So you pay to have it set up at your house and then you sort of buy “minutes” to power it up. When you run out you have to buy more power. So this is the inverse of our American system of paying post-use every month. I’m curious to find out more about this and whether people “opt out” of getting wired for electricity due to the cost. I also only consulted one person for this info, so I’m sure there are a lot of details I’m leaving out.

As for water in Taba, many people go to the public spigot and pay per jerry can container that they fill. Some families send their kid or hire someone to go and get water a couple of times a day. I've been twice so far to help fetch water and let me tell you, it’s not easy! Can you imagine carrying (or pushing in a wheel barrow) 20 or more liters of water across town every day just to use for your normal bathing and cooking routine?!  Some people also pay to have the government install a private spigot at their home, but I’ve heard this is expensive. Once it’s set up they track your use with meter on the nozzle and bill you at the end of the month.

Locals lined up in front of the water spigot waiting to fill their buckets.

Around 6:30 it starts to get pretty dark here. Makes it easy to see the beautiful starry sky on a clear night, but it’s pretty inconvenient for anything else you might want to do like cooking, reading, or even just playing a game of cards. And you can’t really bathe after dark because you won’t be able to see where you’re scrubbing. Haha My family uses a battery-powered lamp or a flashlight around the house. And Peace Corps provided me with a kerosene lamp, but I haven’t used it much because I’m afraid to start a house fire—plus it’s not very pleasant smelling. I was proud of myself for learning how to properly light it though. Small victories! Luckily I purchased a solar-powered lamp before I left, and I freaking love this thing. The company D.Light makes them and offers a Peace Corps discount. They’re pretty neat because they can charge in the sun or via USB connection, and last for 4 hours on high or up to 8 on low. I’m hoping I might be able to find another in Rwanda to buy for my host family, since I know they are specifically marketed in developing countries for their practicality. A quick side note: In between starting and ending this post I spent about 45 minutes watching my 9 year old host sister hold the D.Light up while her dad ironed a suit by hand…in the dark…using an iron that is heated by filling a compartment with hot coals. He asked me in Kinyarwanda if we had irons in America. I said, “Yeah, but they run on electricity,” while demonstrating myself plugging an imaginary cord into a make believe wall outlet. He smiled and chuckled a little at that one.

Not having electricity or running water is definitely an adjustment. Luckily the training site where we meet twice a week for some Peace Corps classes has power, so I can charge my laptop and then use that at home to juice up my phone and camera. But a laptop battery only lasts for so long of course. Needless to say, the lack of electricity means there isn’t exactly an internet café or anything like that nearby. And the USB modem I have is not very reliable. I spent about 2+ hours last week trying to get connected long enough to upload my previous post and a couple of photos. So bear with me for now as I probably will not be able to reply to emails super quickly, and will definitely not be able to Skype for at least the next few months if not longer. Once in a while I am able to get on Gmail or Faceboook on my iPhone and it’s spectacular. As guilty as I feel having to ask you all this, my request is that if you want to talk on the phone you call me using Skype, Google Voice, or an international calling card for now—as it’s looking like I’m not going to be making a lot of calls with my limited amount of prepaid minutes/meager Peace Corps stipend. My phone number and snail mail address are on the contact page of this blog by the way.

To be honest, I’m starting to realize that unless my permanent site is close to a large town or city this might be the way it’s going to be for me indefinitely. I’ve been having some major separation anxiety the last couple of weeks including irrational fears that upon my return to the U.S. I will have lost all connection with friends and family. This is probably ridiculous, but that’s kind of how it feels out here across the globe.

So as I sit at my computer in complete darkness wearing a head lamp to read the keys, I’m thinking to myself how great it would be eating a Big Mac and watching Saturday Night Live back home. But at the same time, I’m gaining such a deep respect for the Rwandan people and their totally badass way of life. It’s kind of funny to think that we love to watch TV shows and movies about how the world would crumble into chaos and anarchy without power, when there are people all over the world living without it every day. On that note, I’ll leave you with a thought I had earlier. One volunteer down the road whose host family is wired said that they sit huddled around a TV every night like we do in America. I had to consider for a minute whether I thought that was progress.