My neighbor is a bus driver. He managed to take the time to pack up the bus with my bags, Bijou (my kitty) and my favorite people in Rwamagana and we all drove to the airport. I cried the entire hour it took to the airport then cried harder when I had to say goodbye. Over 30 hours later we landed in America. We got off the plane and Bijou was no the only one who had no idea where we were. I recognized some familiar things but I was so overwhelmed by polite people who did not stare at me and most of all Starbucks. I feel as though the plane ride is not a sufficient way to reenter America. Rwanda already seems like a distant past; a separate time continuum. It would have made more sense to slowly travel out of Rwanda. For instance take a bus for a few hours then ride a camel through the desert then take a boat and a train and after a few weeks reach this place called America. It felt instantaneous that all of a sudden America is in my face when everything about me is still stuck in Rwanda. I literally felt like a villager in the big city with my worn and torn clothes, my dirty feet and my refugee kitty straight off the plane from Africa.

My family comments on the changes they see in me especially the obvious like how speak special English by speaking slowly and enunciating every word. I think of words in Kinyarwanda first and translate them into English. I find something new that has changed, updated or new since I have been gone. The best part of reintegration into America is being reunited with my closet full of clothes and shoes. The shoes alone make the transition a little smoother. So my Rwandan adventure is over (for now) but my American life as an RPCV is beginning and yet again I will have to adjust but Rwamagana will always be on my mind.

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I have three more weeks in Rwanda and I have seriously had the most challenging months of my service. By telling people that my service is nearly ending it was if I said all bets are off. I do not want to say that people are being disrespectful but maybe I would like to believe that they now feel comfortable asking me questions, being more open and saying what they have been wanting to say all along. In most instances this is not a good thing and has left me having to say things like: please stop, I do not feel comfortable answering that or please leave me alone.

I have started taking pictures of my town, neighborhood and the people who have been a part of my life the past two years. I have been more disappointed by people than pleased. Some people see my leaving Rwanda as a last chance to get into my pants (or in the case of the oldest man in the world just grabbing my vagina over my pants). While others see an opportunity to steal my camera out of my hands or successfully steal my bike. This is not everyone of course. There are some people who have shown real support and genuine care about the time I have spent in Rwanda. It is difficult to leave a place, where you had given up everything, only to have people still call you names on the street and ask you for money with a laugh. I understand that even as a volunteer I am still one of the richest in my town but as my coworker likes to say, “We all put the poop in latrines.”

I have come to meet other Westerners in my town that have been here for a few months. I have also come to loathe their idealism and romanticized version of Africa. I remember my first impressions and I am sure they were very similar because everything is new, different and amazing. You cannot imagine ever wanting to leave or why anyone would say anything badly about this place. That is the curse and blessing of living here for a long period of time. You know the culture and the people backwards and forwards. You know what will work and what will fail. You know when people are just being polite and when they are genuine. It becomes almost predictable and if only Westerners would close their mouths and open their eyes then maybe I would not get so annoyed with comments like, “There is a real sense of community here.”

Some of my fellow PCVs have told me that I have a negative attitude towards Rwanda. I think that I am very aware and observant. I have grown into myself here and I understand the consequences, good and bad, of loving such a place. I do not want to be one of those people who are bitter but I also do not want to be one of those people who are oblivious to what is really happening. At the end of this experience, after all the stories, trials and challenges, I am still committed to this work and cannot imagine going into any other field. I think that speaks for itself.

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I realized that I do not write on my blog about Rwanda as much as I did when I first arrived. I try and write about my life in Rwanda but it is impossible at times to really describe my experience here. I have only one month before my departure from Rwanda and each day I still struggle and find new challenges living in this country. Even if I lived here for the rest of my life I think I would never really understand the complexity of Rwanda and the different layers that are revealed in unique ways. Yet, Rwanda has become unconsciously a part of me and many things that I consider normal and not very interesting may seem special, precarious or even bizarre. At our COS conference it was amazing to see how my colleagues have changed and how we are all Rwandans. A man yelled across the room, “Umva”, (means listen in Kinyarwanda and is a common way of getting someone’s attention here) and all of us turned to the man. My speech pattern and mix of Kinayrwanda, Swahili, French and English that I use everyday is going to be difficult to break. Much of the language relies on sounds and noises to profess tone but will I am sure raise many eyebrows when I say, yooooo or A-cara-cara or A-bah-bah-bah!

As my time here is coming to an end many people are asking me what I plan to do after my service. For survival reasons, I prioritized my life putting Rwanda first and the American life far on the back burner. Now I need to find that back burner and figure out how I am supposed to go back to that life I had two years ago. I looked at pictures from 2008 and did not recognize myself in any of the photos. It is ironic because we spent so long adjusting to Rwanda, the things and people that brought us comfort and feelings of home were miles away. Now we are going back and the thought of leaving the things and people here in Rwanda creates the same anxiety as the first day we left home. My routine, my “normalcy” is about to change once again.

At our close of service conference we all sort of stared off trying to think of what exactly we had done here in Rwanda for two years. Our amazing facilitator referred us to this quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson:

"The definition of success--To laugh much; to win respect of intelligent persons and the affections of children; to earn the approbation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to give one's self; to leave the world a little better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to have played and laughed with enthusiasm, and sung with exultation; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived--this is to have succeeded."

Obviously I realize that this work is important but sometimes it is difficult to step back and see the impact that you have made these two years. I start to feel very selfish for the experience that I have had here because I learn so much everyday about Rwanda, public health, development work and humanity that I am afraid that I have not given back to my community as much as I have taken. Most of the things I have impacted or succeeded at cannot be measured. This is why many PCVs have feelings of helplessness and inconclusiveness about their services.

Rwandans and well everyone alike always ask me why I came to Rwanda. They thought I chose Rwanda when really Peace Corps ask you to choose a continent. I chose Africa. I knew I needed to be in Africa. I did not care where or in what capacity but I knew I needed to come here. I hit the mother load of Africa when I was chosen for Rwanda (not even knowing that the Rwanda program was being reopened). Now that I have seen, worked and lived in Rwanda it is simple to say that, through good and bad, this is exactly where I needed to be. I am trying to think of ways I can express my gratitude and appreciation to my community before I leave and so far I feel as though there is no way to put a bow on it and walk away. I feel as though I will always be indebted greatly to Rwanda as I am sure all PCVs feel when they are finishing their services. My neighbors have already come over to my house and claimed what they want to inherit when I leave for America so I guess part of debt will be settled but I am already planning when I will come back to Rwanda and I have not even left yet.

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I finally gave in and bought a Charlie Brown Christmas tree with sparkle star lights and blue tinsel in Kigali. Getting the tree home on a bus packed with Rwandans asking what I am doing with a tree on the bus was just another adventure. I played Christmas music and tried to bake but then the power went off. Bijou tried to eat the tree then the lights but after being practically electrocuted she now just sits under it while we watch It's A Wonderful Life. On Christmas day we are going to a concert then roasting goats in my front yard. It is not really beginning to look a lot like Christmas but it is beginning to look like another Rwandan Christmas.

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I celebrated Thanksgiving early with some of my friends and neighbors. We cooked two chickens instead of turkey and of course had frites and sauce because we are in Rwanda and no meal is complete without sauce and frites. I made mashed potatoes, stuffing and a salad that I think only I really enjoyed. My sous chef is pictured below, Miss Karin, and the only one who truly loved and wore her turkey hat proudly all day. Even though I am still far from home and my family, I am so thankful for my Rwandan family I have here who made up for the homesickness I always feel around the holidays. Happy Thanksgiving wherever you may be this year!

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I grew pretty cut and grow flowers that make Rwandans ask me, "Why do white people love to grow flowers so much?"

Bijou enjoying her garden

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Before

After

An amazing salad made entirely from my garden.xxx

Planning a health fair is not as easy as it sounds in this country. There are fire hoops, backlogged emails, Rwanda country offices that are based out of Senegal, lost in translation moments and then referring to the PEPFAR manual to make sure that every penny is going where it should be going. At one point today, I asked myself why am I even trying to get this off the ground?... because I know it is important and sometimes being the first to do anything is difficult but I know once they see what a health fair is and how well received it will by the community then I know it will be worth it. At least the proposal is now finalized and our partners are on board so the difficult part is almost over. Remember that suggestions, comments and questions are always welcomed.

Here are the objectives for the health fair based on the needs of the community: 1. Sensitization of health needs to bring about awareness of major health disparities including:a. HIV/AIDSb. TBc. Family Planningd. Hygienee. High blood pressuref. Mutuelle and health servicesg. Nutrition2. Optometry testing and consultations that include eyeglass fittings3. VCT mobile medical unit with rapid testing and on-site counseling4. Malaria education and mosquito net distribution

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This is my fancy desk where I spend most of my days if I am not in the field. It is actually as exciting as it looks.

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I keep wondering how my clothes keep getting tighter and tighter these days. This is Africa. For as much as I get sick I would expect a little wiggle room especially in the waist. I was commiserating with my neighbor how I hate all my clothes and will now only resort to the last option I have left... Mumus. She is about 5 months pregnant and looks fabulous and wears these cute free flowing dresses everyday. Granted Rwandan women see nothing wrong with women carrying some extra weight but she understood my frustration.

Granted all this conversation was taking place as we were both shoveling a huge plates of potatoes and plantains with peanut sauce into our mouths in between sentences.

She told me that when she first met me my face was pale and sickly. She said she started taking food to me to welcome me to the neighborhood but mainly because she was afraid I wasn't eating. Now, she said, I have life in my face and nice big hips (her words, not mine).

I started to look back at pictures of myself a year ago and she's right. I looked skinny to American standards but I wasn't healthy or happy. I realized that I need to stop beating myself up for enjoying myself or even god forbid, being happy. I do miss long runs, the gym and healthy foods like salad but I know I will have those things soon enough. For now I am going to enjoy this, invest in mumus and be happy. For the first time in a long time I feel like myself again.

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I have officially become the crazy radish lady. I planted radishes because I got them in a care package. I assumed that since Rwanda has really no idea what a radish is that neither would the dirt. Turns out that Rwanda is the perfect place to plant radishes since they will grow in only about two months, take over your whole garden and then mock you because what can you really do with radishes. The only time I can remember eating a radish was when everything else was gone off the vegetable tray and there was ranch dressing involved. If you have any recipes for radishes please send them my way.

xxx

This past weekend I had two weddings to attend in my town. It is safe to say that the most fun I have ever had at a wedding was on Sunday. Everyone was given a red rose when they walked into the ceremony which I do not know is special to a Muslim wedding but it was a nice start to the day. It was the same kind of dowry ceremony where the families of the bride and groom discuss the marriage arrangement. They go back and forth for awhile until an agreement is reached. Fanta is used as currency these days and this wedding made good fun of the fact they were talking about how many Fantas were to be given to the family. The laughed and said I want two Citrons and five Orange Fantas. Of course some tradition remains and a cow is given to the bride's family. Before any agreement is reached there must be another potential suitor for the bride who must give a speech about what he will offer the family until the bride's family agrees to the actual groom. Then the wedding begins. I loved this wedding so much because it was the first Rwandan wedding I have been to where the bride and groom actually smiled. They not only smiled, they were happy. It was really sweet.

I have lived in Rwanda for two years and never knew this because I would always leave early from weddings. After the reception, family and close friends go to the house of the bride and groom to bring gifts for their marriage. Gifts included things you would normally find at Crate & Barrel and then they threw in some charcoal, plantains, rugs and traditional baskets. The bride and groom then go into their house together as a couple and close the door while everyone stays outside. We were all just standing around so I had to ask what we were all doing here outside. They explained to me that we will eat and drink Fanta after... Being the blonde I asked after what? Then men smirked and the women giggled as they explained to me that it is important to have a child as soon as possible. My face dropped and I could not believe we were waiting outside for the couple to finish having sex. An hour later the couple walks out of the house, we all sit down and listen to the families give more speeches, we eat and drink and then we go home. How did I not know this about after the wedding? It is nice to know that I do not know everything and I am continually surprised by Rwanda.

xxx

Jinja, UgandaI could stay here for a long time and be really happy. xxx

My neighbor is getting married next month. He told me there would be a meeting about the wedding at a bar in town. I went to the meeting basically because I had nothing better to do but also because I know how Rwanda works now which means he invited me so he has to pay for my drinks.

I show up to the bar and find my neighbor and maybe half of the men who live in my town at the bar. Everyone looked up and said "oh good the muzungu is here". In Rwanda the whole town pitches in for the wedding and helps the couple start their life together. The bar turned into one huge pledge drive. They had everyone on their cell phones calling neighbors in town to ask how much they were going to give for the wedding.

My neighbor greeted me and told me that whatever he says in the next couple of minutes I am not to say a word. He then stands up and announces that I have pledged to give him $100 for the wedding. Everyone said 'Yooooo!!' and clapped for me. I was so confused but later my neighbor explained that if I hadn't pledged a lot of money everyone in town would have talked about me and he didn't want that so he would rather lie and then give him like $10 and call it a day. It is nice to know that some people look out for me and understand their culture well enough to know when to lie in my defense.

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This past weekend a friend of mine showed up at my house with a chicken. He asked if I was hungry... so we walked to the corner bar, handed the cooks in back the chicken, ordered some beers and waited for the chicken to be roasted. Chickens in Rwanda do not have that much meat on them and the meat they do have you really have to work for it.

I kept thinking back to the time in college when I was a vegan and then slowly started eating meat when I went to my friend's house. I was terrified and grossed out by bones so my friend would have to literally cut the meat for me so I could eat it.

Sitting in a corner bar in Rwanda was a little hysterical to me to think that over a fews years ago I would never have touched raw chicken and now here I am eating an entire chicken leg including foot. This is the life I have chosen.

xxx

Maybe not every morning but most I go to my favorite restaurant around the corner from my house called Smart Restaurant. Most everything on the menu is 100 rwf (which is the right price on my budget) so an order of beans with meat sauce, tea with milk and chapatti becomes the best way to start a Rwandan day.

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I woke up to find this in my latrine. I went back into my house to find a very happy and very full kitty asleep on my bed. I can't believe my small little kitty would eat 3/4 of a rat that size. On the more positive side there is one less rat in my ceiling and I won't have to feed my kitty until she recovers from that meal.

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If there is one reason why I love my job here I would have to say that it is because of GLOW. GLOW stands for Girls Leading Our World. Peace Corps Volunteers in Rwanda organized and initiated a Camp GLOW conference for over 70 girls, ages 14-20, in December of 2009. The five-day camp focused on building their knowledge of and comfort with certain life skills including goal setting, self-esteem, career development, health and sanitation, holistic well-being and leadership and team-building skills.

Twelve of the girls who attended Camp GLOW reside in our town so we organized the Camp GLOW participants from local secondary schools and began to meet once a week to discuss organizational goals and priorities. In these meetings, the girls from the three local secondary schools expressed a desire to expand club membership and begin individual chapters at their respective schools. Today we have expanded GLOW throughout the community raising awareness about health issues, gender equality and empowerment.

In our meetings we discuss everything from HIV to family planning to career development and university applications. It has been the most rewarding project I have worked on in Rwanda because I feel as though these girls no matter what they do in life will always remember the concepts of GLOW and hopefully pass on the idea of GLOW to their daughters. I am so proud of these girls because I have seen them transform to become these strong, outspoken, confident women.

We are currently planning the next Camp GLOW and are even taking on the challenge of a boys’ camp (name to be determined, don’t worry we will not call it BLOW!!); both take place this December.

For more information about GLOW in Rwanda look at our fantastic web page at campglowrwanda.wordpress.com

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I have had more than one email and phone call telling me that I never write on my blog any more. I know I used to be really good about updating about my adventures and stories that I’m sure no one will ever believe but I got to the point where what is there to write about… After thinking for months about what I could write about I found that there is so much to write about because my life is anything but normal. I came to this conclusion after watching American movies and then thinking how normal my life used to be when I lived in the states and now everything I do, think and see is anything but normal. I have become more proactive at taking pictures of my daily life and everyday occurrences that may be of interest, humor or disgust to whoever reads this outside of Africa. Hope this actually satisfies a long over due blog post.

BrunchIf there is anything I truly miss it is brunch mainly because in the States it is the only time you can drink in public before noon and not be judged. I created my own brunch on Sundays at my house. The menu the past couple of Sundays has been French toast and homemade syrup, banana pancakes and honey, and ginger scones. Last Sunday I made a frittata on the stovetop with tomatoes, onion, garlic and basil. Unfortunately no champagne but I have learned to make pineapple wine and that is my version of Rwandan brunch.

Sugar Salt Scrub

Mix sugar and salt together with a little oil. I also added a few drops of essential oils. Not exactly ‘The Body Shop’ but close enough.

Kitty Crisis!

Bijou is getting stronger everyday and does not seem to mind having only three workable legs now. She has also figured out how to jump over the fence to visit her friend next door. This morning she stretched with both legs out and did not cry. I am hoping it is a muscular thing and after our kitty physical therapy sessions she will no longer have to hop everywhere. I have most of village either praying for her recovery or tracking down the kids who beat her up so thank you for the prayers and the mafia-like support.

Eid ul-Fitr

I have decided that this is one of my favorite holidays which marks the end of the fasting month of Rwamadan. It is like Thanksgiving but you roast a goat instead of a turkey. I am thankful to live in the Muslim quarter of town and have fabulous neighbors who know that they can count on me to break any fasting rituals. With a goat roasting on my front lawn, millions of women stirring pots, men telling stories that made me laugh until I got beer up my nose, and meeting new people in my community made for a very good day. Happy Eid ul-Fitr!

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It is strange that summer is almost over. The winds have picked up today and the reminder of rain clouds float close to home. Summer was miserable in the fact that there is no rain therefore no water. No water to shower with but also no water to keep the dust down out of my nose and eyes. The summer brought family and friends to visit Rwanda which was a nice break but also reminded me how much I miss little things back home such as speaking Californian English quickly. My Peace Corps experience is winding down slowly and I keep thinking there are still so many things I want to do here before I go. This month with the excitement of the country I am sad that I cannot talk about what is happening or post pictures of what I am really experiencing on a daily basis. All I can say is the life is going back to normal which means I am back to work. These were the only photos the internet connection would allow me to upload for now but they are a good representation of my summer life. More to come so stay tuned...

drinking the coffee

Lake Kivuxxx

I have not been writing as much lately due to lack of time and mostly lack of electricity. Summer has officially begun and this is what June has looked like for me.

The Business Expo was a success. Everyone wants to know when the next one will be and if the money comes through we are hoping to have another one before the holidays. My cooperatives are now working on business plans and we are trying to build a mini-market at my office to showcase crafts done by our cooperatives and associations.

FIFA World Cup has taken up a big portion of my time. Instead of going to work and then home, I go to work, then the bar, then home. Even though women are not really supposed to be out at night and we really are not supposed to be in bars unless we are prostitutes, the World Cup has given us a free pass to watch football without men propositioning us.

Gardening has become my ultimate hobby. My garden is almost finished as dry season has settled in very comfortably. The last carrots I pulled this weekend were much enjoyed in a stir fry dinner.

I was home for lunch one day when a group of four persons from Electrogaz (they supply water and electricity in Rwanda) came through my gate. I thought they were there to read the meter then leave but they produced a paper that said I owe them about 4,000 rwf which is 7 USD. I said that my neighbor had all the receipts and he would not be back home until tonight. One of the men went over to my water source with his wrench and unscrewed my facet off and handed it to me. They then walked over to my cashpower box. I was so confused. I asked, why are you turning off my electricity when it's my water bills you are questioning. They said it's all related. I know this isn't politiclaly correct to say especially in Rwanda but one man had only one arm. The rest were fully capable. So while the one armed man climbs up with his tools and tries to unplug my electricity the rest watch him as he struggles. He at one point put the screwdriver in his mouth, I kid you not. That was when I had to go inside because I could not help but laugh. They left me with my $7 bill and said that it would not be turned back on until I payed. I feel like an outlaw and when I cook dinner in the dark and eat by candlelight I cannot help but laugh at the entire situation. Maybe one day I will pay that bill. For now we are enjoying the dark.

I came home from the market and was not greeted with my usual Bijou love. I went in my bedroom and found Bijou fixated. She was staring at the sky and completely still. I thought that she was either having an aneurysm or she was praying. I then look up to see a beautiful white bird with big yellow eyes perched on my mosquito net. Ummm.... hello!? Bijou was completely glued to this bird. My neighbors came over and said it is a gift from God. I asked, how so? They said they have never seen such a bird in Rwamagana. I said, it looks like a pigeon, I think I am getting punked. We named her Wimana which means from God in Kinyarwanda. Wimana is still perched in my bedroom and occasionally flies around but refuses to go outside. Bijou talks to Wimana constantly and is thrilled to have a friend. Who knew my cat would be such a humanitarian.

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Days have a way of stacking up and sometimes without notice. Everyday is the same as the next with slight differentiation. It is has been one of those busy times, which I welcomed with open arms, that only now made me realize how few months I have left in Rwanda. At our mid-service training we were told to write out a six month plan. The next six months are all I have left and then I will wrap up my projects and say goodbye. Leaving for just a one week training I returned home to see my garden had grown. It made me thankful to have a garden as a reminder that time moves forward and life is always in continuous motion whether we want it to or not. I want time to slow down and wait for me catch up so that when this is over I will be ready, but I do not think I will ever be ready to say goodbye to this place. It is now a part of me and I am going to enjoy it. xxx

A little bit homesick but more hungry and tired of eating the same old Rwandan food. I came home from work a bit early, picked carrots and green onion from my garden. Chopped it all up combined in a bowl with soy sauce, an egg and a can of chicken from a care package from home to make a little filling. Rolled out made dough to make little wraps, filled them with filling goodness and then fried the crap out of them. Empanadas are tasty anywhere in the world. Even Bijou was impressed by my culinary talents. Feliz Cinco de Mayo!

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Everyone asks me where I have been. I have been at site. I get up, I go to work, I come home, I eat beans and rice, I sleep then repeat. There is something strange about being isolated for months on end with no traveling and no visitors and the same routine each week.

I travel to rural health centers in my district to collect data, to train, support or talk with peer educators in the villages and to do routine checks on programming for PLWHA. Today I am in the field again where I will travel to three or four health centers to collect the data for the month of March. I get in our blue beat up car and head off the main road on a pot-holed dusty road that always seems to be at an incline. We arrive at the first health center and find that no one is there for us to talk to. There are maybe two or three nurses trying to help the fifty or more people who showed up first thing that morning. Even if we call ahead and make appointments those only seem to be cautionary and a suggestion. We all load back in the car and head off to the next health center. I love to blast the radio and sing along to the popular Rwandan songs. My colleagues laugh because I know all the words to ‘Amayobera’ but they sing along with me anyways. We arrive at the next health center and find everything in working order. We exchange greetings, walk around, collect data and paperwork, check to see how their VCT/PMTCT program is working and then try to move on to the next health center. A woman who I have talked to on more than one occasion approaches me yet again, she speaks very quickly in Kinyarwanda and I have learned to just nod and make noises of acknowledgement. She expresses to me that she has no idea where she is at this time. She asks where her children are and if I can save her from the people trying to kill her. Everyone reminds me that she is ill as if I do not comprehend what severe brain damage is; they then escort me away from her as if they do not want me to experience that side of Rwanda. I cannot help but wonder how many people suffer from severe trauma and injuries but are not taken care because the capacity, facilities and infrastructure do not exist here.When we get back to the car we find a flat tire and our driver cursing at the car.

I always take a book with me wherever I go because anything could happen and waiting is unfortunately not something that I am good at so I read. So I find a shady tree to sit under and do what everyone in Rwandan knows best, ihangane. It is amazing to me that I have traveled to these health centers so many times and yet every time I step into the village I am automatically a caged zoo animal. If I stop for a mere second to tie my shoe I look up to find a million eyes staring straight back at me. In Peace Corps there is the honeymoon period where everything is new, different and something to be appreciated. Then it starts to feel as though experience follows you around 24/7 when all you want is a moment to yourself. You start to wonder, does everything I see and do need to be a lesson learned? I decide to walk to the market near by and buy bananas and corn so we can have a little picnic while we wait. We then end up getting into a discussion about health care in Rwanda and the similarities and differences from America.

With a new tire and disgruntled driver we continue to the next health center. We ask the same questions and gather similar data from this health center as we did from the last one. My brain starts to turn off when too much kinyarwanda infiltrates so I go outside and start playing with some kids who are waiting to be seen. I then see a girl in a school uniform being supported on either side of her by other schoolgirls as she shivers and her eyes are practically rolling back into her head. Another case of malaria enters our lives and she will be recorded on next month’s data sheet of cases of malaria seen at the health center. When I see the patients, not just a number on a sheet, it becomes real and that is why I like to be in the field not at a desk because the numbers take on meaning.

On to the next health center, where we now work on repeat mode where we ask, collect, check and move on. This health center just opened a new maternity ward. We take a quick tour and all agree that it is beyond anything we have ever seen in the village in terms of maternal and child care. We see new mothers nursing their babies and premature babies being warmed in incubators. We are all in a better mood after seeing healthy mothers and babies. We decide that it is getting late and we should head back to town but the Titulaire will not allow us to return so soon. We walk to the corner bar to share Fanta and brochettes. We discuss how much the health center has improved but how it still needs to improve its outreach to PLWHA. There are still many people who are HIV positive but are not enrolled in any treatment program at the health center. It is getting close to dark and so we say farewell to our friend.

We arrive back in town and wish each other a restful evening. I walk home towards the pink sky setting behind the hills. I breathe in deep as I see villagers carrying a person from the hospital with a sheet covering the body. Every day I see life and death. It is so palpable here that sometimes I am not fazed by the stark contrast. It has become so much a part of my routine. I get home, feed my cat, take a cold bucket shower outside, make a cup of tea and crawl into bed. Another day passes and tomorrow will come all too soon but as George Packer perfectly wrote, ‘you get up, you work, you sleep’ which is the Peace Corps experience all in itself.

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I finally did it! I said I was going to for about a year and I finally did it. I made a dress by hand. I have never made anything without a sewing machine and here I made a dress with just a few stitches. I did have some help because I wanted the waist to have a little elastic. A tailor in town helped me find elastic and then offered to sew it in with her machine so how could I refuse. Next step etsy shop…

xxx

I woke up to the sound of rain and I was thankful that my garden would be watered and the air would be clear this morning. Slowly waking I realized that it was April 7th which marks the 16th anniversary of the genocide in Rwanda. For most, foreigners and Rwandans, we dread this week. I planned to be on a beach in Burundi which in theory is close but feels miles away from here. I saw a friend on the street the other day and asked where he was going. He replied by saying ‘anywhere’. I know the feeling, so when my travel plans were abruptly changed and I found myself staying in Rwanda during memorial I welcomed the week with a certain sort of trepidation.

The conversation around this time of memorial and the anticipation of upcoming elections turns to politics and other topics I am not supposed to be part of as a PCV. I find it interesting that for the most part people say they will vote for or they support Kagame. Another friend of mine said he remembers the massacre on his village took place on the 21st and by the 27th the RPF came and the violence stopped. Many have said, Kagame is the reason why I am alive.

Many families know the day and location of when their loved ones died during the genocide. On that day many families come together to grieve and remember. It is tradition to make a fire the night before and then in the morning the family mourns and remembers their lost loved ones. I asked my friend if there is a specific day that he remembers his family. He said that he thinks about his family all the time but not too much. He said, I will not waste my life crying over something I cannot change. My family is dead but I am alive. For some reason that has stuck with me because for someone to have lost everyone in his family and to wander this world alone he has no fear or hate but only seeks and speaks of peace for himself and his country.

I went to see my resource family who taught my Kinyarwanda and Rwandan culture. It is a place where I seek solace because it is the only place in Rwanda that really feels like home to me. I woke up early, helped Vienie farm some of her crops and planted some seeds in her kitchen garden. We then started cooking and preparing for the random people who stop by because Vienie’s home is not only solace for me but for many in her village. She is my age but acts like the Mama to everyone. By noon, the town closed up shops and people were supposed to adjourn to the genocide conferences in the village that give seminars on why the genocide is bad and should never have happened or happen again. Instead we all gathered in Vienie’s living room, opened up bottles of Mutzig and passed a bottle of Uganda Waragi around the room. People shared stories of family they missed, family they lossed and family they have gained because of the genocide. We went outside and made a fire and continued the story telling. We laughed more than we cried only because Rwandans are jokesters by nature, they laugh at things to ease the tension and maybe the pain. It was the first time that I was no longer the token ‘Muzungu’. I would like to think that I am one of them, a Rwandan, but I know that I could never put myself in their shoes. I can listen and get an understanding but I will never really know.

Today is the end of the genocide memorial week however the genocide lasted 100 days. There are still fires to be burned and stories to be told. I am glad that I was forced to stay, however uncomfortable I was at times and however painful the stories seemed to be, it was an experience I will always remember.

xxx

Baking in Rwanda is the most amazing thing a girl can do. here especially without an oven . This past weekend I made brownies, chocolate chip and oatmeal cookies, a birthday cake, and banana nut bread. in my makeshift stove top oven. My life has a whole new purpose and meaning in Rwanda.

How to make your own stove top oven:

1) an aluminum pot with lid

2) a small empty tin can, I use the tomato paste cans (depending on the width of the pot you might want to use two cans to balance the bowl)

3) some people use sand at the bottom of the pan so that it does not burn a hole in the bottom, I just bought a really heavy duty pot and called it a day

4) put batter in a bowl and set on top of the tomato can, place lid on top and wait until it starts smelling like baked goodness (I bake in my tin plates and bowls that I got in Kigali)

Happy Baking! xxx

Know the Facts about TB:Tuberculosis (TB) is one of the world’s deadliest diseases:

One third of the world’s population are infected with TB.

Each year, nearly 9 million people around the world

become sick with TB.

Each year, there are almost 2 million TB-related deaths worldwide.

TB is the leading killer of people who are HIV infected.Basics"TB" is short for tuberculosis. TB disease is caused by a bacterium called Mycobacterium tuberculosis. The bacteria usually attack the lungs, but TB bacteria can attack any part of the body such as the kidney, spine, and brain. If not treated properly, TB disease can be fatal. How TB SpreadsTB is spread through the air from one person to another. The TB bacteria are put into the air when a person with active TB disease of the lungs or throat coughs, sneezes, speaks, or sings. People nearby may breathe in these bacteria and become infected.

TB is NOT spread byshaking someone’s hand sharing food or drink touching bed linens or toilet seats sharing toothbrushes kissingLatent TB Infection and TB DiseaseNot everyone infected with TB bacteria becomes sick. As a result, two TB-related conditions exist: latent TB infection and active TB disease.

Latent TB Infection

TB bacteria can live in your body without making you sick. This is called latent TB infection (LTBI). In most people who breathe in TB bacteria and become infected, the body is able to fight the bacteria to stop them from growing. People with latent TB infection do not feel sick and do not have any symptoms. The only sign of TB infection is a positive reaction to the tuberculin skin test or special TB blood test. People with latent TB infection are not infectious and cannot spread TB bacteria to others. However, if TB bacteria become active in the body and multiply, the person will get sick with TB disease.

TB Disease

TB bacteria become active if the immune system can't stop them from growing. When TB bacteria are active (multiplying in your body), this is called TB disease. TB disease will make you sick. People with TB disease may spread the bacteria to people they spend time with every day. Many people who have latent TB infection never develop TB disease. Some people develop TB disease soon after becoming infected (within weeks) before their immune system can fight the TB bacteria. Other people may get sick years later, when their immune system becomes weak for another reason. For persons whose immune systems are weak, especially those with HIV infection, the risk of developing TB disease is much higher than for persons with normal immune systems.

(All information taken from the CDC website)

A recent WHO report printed in the NYT finds that some strains of Tuberculosis are drug-resistant

xxx

The weekend was, to say the least, eventful. I had my windows open while I was listening to music and reading in my bedroom. I heard Bijou in the kitchen but then I heard her hissing. I then heard my pots and pans come crashing down in my kitchen and Bijou getting into a cat fight! I ran into my kitchen to find a monkey standing there trying to get the bananas from my table! All I could say was, "Monkey in the house! Monkey in the house!" The monkey then saw me and leaped through the window. It was then that I saw Bijou on top of the fruits and vegetables protecting her bananas. I picked her up and we both just stood there shaking. My neighbors came over and I kept saying, "Monkey...in..the...house!!" The neighbors now call Bijou, Umugabo, which means man because she protected her home. I did not really have the heart to tell them she was protecting her bananas not her home or me!Note: I have talked about this monkey before, it comes to visit us often but has never come into my house. It is the white one and I never realized how big it was until it was in my house and being aggressive. Again, I am grateful to have rabies shots for me and Bijou!xxx

I know this is a bit ironic that I have a post about water when I am sitting here dirty because I had no running water this morning and I am currently searching in town where I can fill up my gerry can. However, it makes world water day more personal for me.Water never seems like a big deal until you do not have it.

Let's look at the facts about water and its importance to life (water.org)

Water

* 3.575 million people die each year from water-related disease.

* 43% of water-related deaths are due to diarrhea.

* 84% of water-related deaths are in children ages 0 – 14.

* 98% of water-related deaths occur in the developing world.

* 884 million people, lack access to safe water supplies, approximately one in eight people.

* The water and sanitation crisis claims more lives through disease than any war claims through guns.

* At any given time, half of the world’s hospital beds are occupied by patients suffering from a water-related disease.

* Less than 1% of the world’s fresh water (or about 0.007% of all water on earth) is readily accessible for direct human use.

* An American taking a five-minute shower uses more water than the typical person living in a developing country slum uses in a whole day.

* About a third of people without access to an improved water source live on less than $1 a day. More than two thirds of people without an improved water source live on less than $2 a day.

* Poor people living in the slums often pay 5-10 times more per liter of water than wealthy people living in the same city.

* Without food a person can live for weeks, but without water you can expect to live only a few days.

* The daily requirement for sanitation, bathing, and cooking needs, as well as for assuring survival, is about 13.2 gallons per person.

Sanitation

* Only 62% of the world’s population has access to improved sanitation – defined as a sanitation facility that ensures hygienic separation of human excreta from human contact.

* 2.5 billion people lack access to improved sanitation, including 1.2 billion people who have no facilities at all.

* The majority of the illness in the world is caused by fecal matter.

* Lack of sanitation is the world’s biggest cause of infection.

* At any one time, more than half of the poor in the developing world are ill from causes related to hygiene, sanitation and water supply.

* 88% of cases of diarrhea worldwide are attributable to unsafe water, inadequate sanitation or insufficient hygiene.

* Of the 60 million people added to the world’s towns and cities every year, most occupy impoverished slums and shanty-towns with no sanitation facilities.

* It is estimated that improved sanitation facilities could reduce diarrhea-related deaths in young children by more than one-third. If hygiene promotion is added, such as teaching proper hand washing, deaths could be reduced by two thirds. It would also help accelerate economic and social development in countries where sanitation is a major cause of lost work and school days because of illness.

xxx

This week has been the most frustrating weeks I have ever had here. We have been working hard campaigning in villages to reduce the rate of HIV. We have discussed partner reduction, convinced partners to get tested and to know their status, passed out free condoms and rallied PLWHA to follow up and keep their appointments for ART. The metrics report for February comes out and everyone starts looking for a wall to beat their head against even harder this time. The baseline for HIV in Rwanda has never quite made sense but who am I to question the statistics (because of my current job situation I will refrain to go into detail about how I feel about the HIV policies of the country). Sitting in on family planning sessions and HIV testing it is evident that HIV is everywhere and affects every household in one way or another. February in my district alone there was an incredible increase in people testing positive for HIV. The eleven health centers and one hospital saw a 5% increase in positive HIV tests. The hospital alone saw a 22% increase in HIV positive tests. What surprised me the most was that the biggest percentages came from very small communities where I know it cannot be blamed on the lack of information. I am furious and disappointed and in shock because we have done everything humanly possible to fight for these people. I asked my colleagues and each one had a different take on the numbers. One person blames it on the people who ‘like to have the sex too much’. Another says it is because men like to go to the bars at night and drink while someone else commented that women have too many partners. I like to play devil’s advocate and say that it was a movement of the people who all were tested together in the month of February. To be honest I don’t know what else we can do. We tell the truth, relay the facts, give them information, resources, protection and treatment and it still is not enough to stop the spread of HIV. What this comes down to is that we all have to take a breath, accept the outcomes either way and continue our work because at the end of the day what we do is important. I do not want to spend my career building cooperatives and clubs and support groups for PLWHA, I want to be able to help healthy people in development and not spend all my time writing reports on the percentages of people with HIV. I hope I see that day soon.

xxx

Women's rights are now not only a human rights issue but a security issue. It is nice having one of our own on the inside.

Remarks at the UN Commission on the Stusu of Women

xxx

International Women’s Day was made a Rwandan holiday on the Friday March 5th on public radio. My guess is that they discussed whether they all wanted a long weekend or not. They came to the conclusion that they will give over a day for women in the name of a three day weekend. March 8th arrives, I am happily rested after sleeping in and up making coffee when my neighbor comes knocking frantically on my door. I am of course in my pajamas while he is in a full suit with the standard Rwandan short, fat tie. He grabs my hand and said you are a woman, you must come to the meeting! I followed him to the meeting for as they called it, the day of women. The meeting was of course in Kinyarwanda and as far as I could see attended by all men. I quickly zoned out long enough to come to the attention of myself and took inventory of my being. I looked down at my stained sweatpants and a tank top that had holes showing in the bottom and red shower sandals. I then ran my hand over my greasy hair and thanked every God there is in the world that I had a bra on with this ensemble. They then, in the name of women all over the world, asked me to say a few words for International Women’s Day. All I could think was what would Gloria Steinam do? Or better yet, what would the Barefoot Contessa do? I tried to act as though I was wearing a Chanel suit and did not have pimple medication still crusted on my face as I addressed the room. I was trying to channel Emma Goldman and Susan B. Anthony but in my disheveled state, I addressed the fact that I was the only woman present at the day of women and why that seemed bothersome. I then may have rambled off about how the Rwandan women are at home taking care of the kids and preparing the next meal when today is their day so what is the deal. The room was silent and I saw one man staring at my bra strap that fell to the side of my shoulder while I was talking and I was again glad that I had a bra on at all. I then excused myself as they easily disregarded my existence. I should have anticipated this and prepared a speech and now, with caffeine in me, I can think of many brilliant things to say about International Women’s Day. Alas, I will save them for next year’s celebration where I will again be happy to be the token woman. A little late posting this but Happy International Women’s Day!

xxx

The world is finally paying attention and seeing that gender plays more of a role in global health. In the BBC News, the UN warns that HIV/AIDS is the leading cause of death in women worldwide. Stephen Lewis has always said that AIDS is a gender-based disease, however, development strategies rarely factor gender into projects or goals in hopes to stop the spread of HIV. Every week I see an overwhelming majority of women and girls line up outside the health center for their ARTs. I sometimes wonder if there really is anything we can do for these women and girls who are poor, vulnerable and biologically at odds. The social determinants of health alone can be a starting place for organizations like the UN to come up with more focused projects that target these women and girls early on. Education is really all it takes.

xxx

I found this kitten hiding in my latrine. It has now adopted me and taken over my entire house.

What I know about her so far... 1. She likes milk but especially from my coffee cup2. She is slightly retarded, she kinda leans to the right a bit too much3. She is afraid of male voices4. She is a house cat, she refuses to go outside5. She is about 10 weeks old6. She is positive that the box with blankets and t-shirts is for me and the big bed is for her7. When she gets pissed off she blows air out of her mouth that sounds like 'POOF'8. She likes Aveda shampoo9. I think she is a girl but not really sure until I take her to the vet but she has more attitude than any boy could muster10. I am already completely in love with her

xxx

Please check out a water project I started in a rural health center in my community.

Musha Health Center Water Project

xxx

Ihangane means be patient in Kinyarwanda. This is the most overused word in Rwanda and yet I find myself saying it every ten minutes or so, even to myself, because it really does help to be patient here. I was supposed to have a meeting that was set the day before at 7am. I waited at the bus stop until 8am when I called to ask where he was which he responded I am coming. At 9am he said he was running late and I could go ahead to the next town over, where we will be working in the field, and he would meet me there. At 10am he said he was coming and I should wait for him at the bus stop. Then at 11:30am he said that he would not be available until tomorrow. Since I had already wasted half a day waiting for him I said he should come as soon as he can today. He said he would be there at 1pm. I then took a walk around Kayonza, window shopped, drank tea and ate cake, people watched and talked to all the conveyeurs of the bus lines. At 2pm he shows up and says that he will be right back. He then reappears in a car with three other men at 3pm and when I think we are finally going to the field, they stop at the bank. It is not until about 6pm when we ended up not going to the field at all that I started to think that maybe I have a little too much ihangane for my own good.

xxx

Dinner with Grandma Cooking is a quick and easy way to get over a little case of homesickness. I made my grandma's spaghetti sauce the other night and felt a whole lot better. It gave me the motivation to build an oven so that next time I can make her lasagna.

Henna Painted my nails from the henna I bought in the market. It did not seem like the real henna or the henna I really wanted as it came out orange but the fact that it smelled like BBQ sauce made me really question what it really was...

Ratatouille As I was cooking last night something caught the corner of my eye. I soon watched a rat squeeze its way through the crack between my front door and cement floor. I stood over my stove with spatula in hand and did nothing but scream. My neighbors came running over with hoes and sticks in hand thinking that I had a burglar. I tried to think of the word for rat in Kinyarwanda but ended up explaining it as a very large bug that ran into my bedroom. As my neighbors thought of how to best get the rat out of my bedroom I quickly decided that I actually do not use that room that much and if the rat wants it he can take it. My neighbors on the other hand ransacked my entire room and beat the rat to death then proudly carried it out and threw it in the compost hole. I now find myself staring at the crack in my front door.

xxx

I've had choices since the day i was born

there were voices

that told me right from wrong if i had listened

no i wouldn't be here today

living and dying

with the choices i've made

- George Jones, 'Choices'

When I reflect on this past year, it seems as though we just stepped off the plane and took our first breath of Rwanda. On the other hand, I can see how much we have changed, adapted, and integrated in only a year. Talking with my fellow PCVs about their sites, their challenges, and their work, it is apparent that this year has been hard for all of us. We can happily call ourselves ‘as close to Rwandan as an outsider can get’ and each day we unfold another layer that we never knew existed or in some instances picked a scab we wish we would have never touched.

When I first arrived I thought I knew what I was doing. I had two degrees in my back pocket, a solid CV, and an eagerness to put into practice everything I had learned. When I arrived at site, my job expectations were quickly smashed and then dropkicked followed by a version of the Mexican hat dance. During my first three months I did a lot of sitting around, surfing the net, and wondering why they even requested a PCV if there was nothing for me to do. I thought a lot about why I was here, what my role was, and how I could be of any use. I wondered, if I had no idea what I was doing, then how could I be of any help to anyone? I tried to be of use by showing them Life Skills exercises and led public health seminars while everyone looked at me as if I had just told them that I was the Easter Bunny.

I slowly realized that in order to be of any use I would have to get off my elitist pedestal and put my feet on the ground. It was not until that realization that I really started my Peace Corps service. I listened and observed instead of talking and doing. There is a Buddhist saying that ‘when the student is ready, the teacher appears.’ I am fortunate to have a whole community of teachers.

This year has challenged me beyond what I thought was even possible. I have seen things that I will never forget, things I wish I could forget, and things I hope we never see again.

I have seen the effects of genocide and what living in a post-conflict country really means. I have seen babies be born in hospital wards, mud huts, and the occasional waiting room floor. I have also seen life pass too soon from ailments that are preventable and curable. I have lived through a hailstorm while fanning myself from the heat. I have become superstitious. I have been humbled by people who have nothing, but are willing to give everything. I have learned the power of forgiveness. I rocked a newborn baby to sleep after being abandoned in the hospital. I held a grown man while he cried with grief. I have sat in silence. I said goodbye to good friends and made new ones. I have seen determination, unbelievable will, and the resilience of human kind. I have met district leaders, traditional healers, hospital directors, primary school teachers, prostitutes, witches, farmers, drunks, pop stars, and pastors. I have seen how development has failed and I have seen true development work from just a few people who believe in what is possible. I have walked slowly.

During this past year I have been inspired and frustrated and angry and ridiculously happy and I have aged about 10 years. There were times when I wanted to quit and times when I never wanted to leave. I came to Rwanda to educate when in reality I am the one who is getting the education.

xxx

"I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any."

"Are you so severe upon your own sex, as to doubt the possibility of all this?"

"I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe, united."

- Jane Austen 'Pride and Prejudice'

I was chatting with a friend on messenger the other day and she said, you’ve been there for bloody forever when are you coming back? It made me think that I actually could leave. The thought of leaving and being back in all the comforts of the Western world are more appealing than ever but the thought of leaving almost makes me more anxious. Maybe it is a pride thing. We signed up for two years and it will take medi-vac purposes to get us out of here. I have had my share of mistakes, as has everyone here, yet mine seem to be the focus of everyone’s attention, even the Americans. My mom likes to tell me that I am building character but I am not sure how much more character is needed within me at this point. When I focus and think about what I am doing here and what I want to accomplish nothing else matters and it all becomes clear. In the meantime I have dove head first into Rwanda because I feel like it has been a year, it is fight or flight time.

In my attempt to be more Rwandan I have come to study other women around me. I always knew they were there but I never really studied them. I always thought them to be cold and lifeless. In reality, in their own homes, out of the public eye, they come alive. They laugh loudly, they make jokes, the kick their feet up on the couch and watch silly movies and they become one of the girls. Let’s be honest, I will never be the perfect Rwandan woman but I think modeling my life after the women here is not such a bad idea. They take care of themselves. They are always clean with their hair and nails done and their dresses perfect. They walk with their heads high and one might say it is a proud sort of strut but they are always walking with their best foot forward. No slouching, hiding or cowering. No matter what size they are they carry themselves as if they ruled the world. It is something I greatly admire. The best part about Rwandan women is how they treat men. They do not give them the time of day and men have to prove themselves before they would even be considered boyfriend material. American women need to take note and a few lessons from the good Rwandan women here.

xxx

My favororite place to go when I need to get away from my site and feel a little pieece of home is Shokola Cafe in Kigali. It is tucked away on one of the back streets in town and has that certain feel that every expat longs for but still has its African roots intact.

xxx

You can turn off the light

You can turn off your mind

You can shut me out

But I’ll still be here

I'll still be here

You can turn me off and try to shut me down

But I’ll still be here

You want to see things all the same

Why don’t you see things in color for a change

I’m waiting and listening, trying to walk in your shoes

They walk a straight line, such a straight line

I’ll drop my fences, if you drop your guard

Meet me on the front porch stop hiding in your backyard

Unlock your windows, come out from the bed

Your tv's glowing, I know you're there

You can turn it around

Til you like how it sounds

You can turn me off

But I'll still be here

-- The Neighbor, Dixie Chicks

They say it is the ‘toughest job you will ever love’ but let’s be honest there are some days when it is difficult to love this job. After a year in country I can say that although it is not easy, it is the most rewarding job I have ever had. As a member of the first group back in Rwanda I feel it my duty to pass on some knowledge I have gained since being in country as a PCV.

1. Put other PCVs on speed dial as lifelines: sharing frustrations, fears, restlessness and experiences can help ease stress and anxiety but more importantly prevent further hair loss.

2. Surround yourself with things that make you happy: this can mean books, pictures of friends and family back home, candles, incense and medicine cards or whatever calms and makes you feel like yourself.

3. Don’t set unrealistic goals and/or self-imposed expectations: no one is expecting you to save the world here so find the small things that make a big difference and then celebrate the victories.

4. Be present but also reflect (don’t worry you will have time to do this): keeping a journal is a great way to reflect on what you have experienced. Days seem to stack up and a journal keeps note of the good and the bad but also reminds you how the good always outweighs the bad.

5. Be open: you will be surprised how a connection or spark with members of your community can make site bearable and even, dare I say it, fun! You’ll learn something about them and learn even more about yourself.

6. Breathe: inhale and exhale (I sometimes forget this step).

7. Remember the third goal of PC: write letters home, post a blog, or connect with the World Wise Schools Program to share your experience with other Americans.

8. Have an exit strategy: no one is perfect and ‘on’ all the time. Mental health breaks are not only healthy but are necessary especially when living in a post-conflict country.

9. Be active: whether you run, do yoga, draw or paint, play a musical instrument or dance just do whatever makes you happy. Find others with similar interests or teach them something new.

10. Be yourself: genuine goes a long way.

xxx

I woke up this morning and realized I had a choice.

I could A) lay in bed, wallow and ask why me

or B) get over myself, go to work and face whatever

the day may bring with my head high.

I thankfully chose the latter and for some reason it does not seem that daunting anymore. Even though it is difficult and I thank God each day I survive, it is nice to know that I still have a choice each morning

and that everything is not lost.

xxx

Christmas in Rwanda is... our Christmas tree even though it was really a Christmas branch decorated with cutouts from a Rolling Stones magazine that was 'temporarily borrowed' from the PC office, lots of cheap wine, chocolate, guacamole, and of course amazing friends who I could not survive here without.

My new apartment came with a monkey that greets me most mornings on the fence who likes to steal the neighbors bananas. I have never been more thankful to have all my rabies shots.

My neighbor presented me with a bouquet of roses to welcome me to my new neighborhood. Just when I am ready to write off Rwanda, they surprise me.

I hope the holidays were full of joy, family and love this season for everyone as they were for me. xxx

The month of December has been a period of change, reflection and new beginnings. The first part of the month was my much needed vacation to Ethiopia. While everyone else planned their trips to Zanzibar or back home for the holidays I took a different route. Everyone asked me why I went to Ethiopia and to be perfectly honest I really do not know what it is that intrigues me so much about the country. (A side note: there are 12 birr to 1 USD and if we had real jobs we would not have been so cheap but we are volunteers so do not judge our cheapness!)

We began our trip in Addis. One of the most polluted cities in the world. You can actually feel your lungs collapsing from the smog and pollution in the air. Coming from Rwanda where the streets are practically lined with cheese, it was a complete contrast for us. In Addis you can smell the sewer every where, there are more beggers on the streets and the noise and chaos like any big city. I definitely felt a little culture shock just from being back in a city again. The second day in the city I managed to get bacterial dysentery and saw not much else in Addis besides the hotel room. After a few days and a new stomach later, we flew to Bahir Dar.

Bahir Dar is a typical lake side town vibe. We took a boat out to see the hippos and a couple of monasteries on the islands. We honestly had no idea what we were seeing but it is sometimes fun to be the ignorant tourist. It is more relaxing that way. The priests at the monasteries tried to charge us more money but thankfully we are poor and when we refused to pay 50 birr for a tour of the monastery they said we could 30 birr which is the actual price. There are amazing restaurants and a few sketchy night clubs in town. We did not really do much except sit by the water, drink some beer good Ethiopian beer (Dashen) and then sleep. It was exactly what we needed.

We then took a bus from Bahir Dar to Gondar. In theory it takes about 2 or 3 hours driving time. In reality our bus took us almost 6 hours. The first hour of the trip was spent driving around town to find passengers to fill the bus. Then the next hour was spent on the side of the road when the bus ran out of gas and then the following hour or so to fix the engine. The rest of the trip went smoothly and we barely got there. Gondar was much cooler than the rest of Ethiopia because it is further north and hidden in the mountains. After seeing the castle which is pretty amazing but if you have ever been to England it looks like any other castle. It is however the only country that has not been colonized to have a castle. A little trivia for you. So after seeing a castle we looked at the time and saw that only took about an hour out of our day. We walked around and then decided to go to the Dashen Brewery. When we arrived it was like walking into little America. There was an outside bar and American eats on the menu. We ordered draft beers and hamburgers with fries. Normally we do not go for the American experience when traveling but we do not get this stuff in Rwanda.

After having separation anxiety from the brewery we boarded another flight to Lalibela. As soon as we got off the plane we were swarmed by people wanting us to go to their hotel or tour company. We thought we could just walk to a hotel and then they informed us that we were about 40 minutes from town. So 40 minutes and 40 birr later we found ourselves at a cute little hotel called the Asheten Hotel which was 12 USD a night which meant in our price range. We walked around Lalibela and instantly fell in love with the landscape and the small town appeal. We read in a now dated edition that to see all the churches was 100 birr when they are now 300 birr. I could not believe how much the churches were charging when Lalibela is probably one of the poorest villages we had seen since being in Ethiopia. I later heard that the locals protested against the church that if they raise the rates of tourism that some of the money must go back to help the poor. That gave me some comfort but I just could not give my money to people who I did not know where the money was going towards. So in typical fashion we went for a night stroll to the churches and managed to get a closer look of some of them before we were chased away by the night guards. One of our favorite spots was Torpido which is a traditional bar that serves the local honey wine that you order according to the alcohol content you want. I am pretty sure either one you order you are sure to enjoy yourself. There is also traditional music at night where they force you to do the shoulder dance so the honey wine comes in handy. Another cool place to hang out is the Seven Olives Hotel, if you can afford it stay at the hotel or just hang out on the patio by the fire and look out over the town of Lalibela and enjoy really amazing food.

We flew back to Addis and spent our last days in Ethiopia shopping on Bole Street, eating food we could never dream of getting in Rwanda and then of course getting massages at the Boston Day Spa. I had not even left the country before I was planning on my next visit to Ethiopia.

xxx

Digging your Own Grave

I woke up to the sound of a hoe pounding the hard dirt outside my window. I walked outside and saw a boy digging away at the grass and the red dirt below it. I said ‘Mwaramutse’ and asked him what he was doing. He stopped for a moment, looked at me and pointed to the hole. I laughed and said ‘yes, I see the hole but what are you going to do with a hole once it is dug’. He shrugged and continued digging. The next day the same thing except now he had a friend who also pointed to the hole when I asked him what he was doing. It made me think, if someone asked me to go dig a hole in the yard but did not tell me why or what it was for, would I do it? I realized I ask a lot of questions, I have to know why and the purpose to every action. Sometimes things do not make any sense and maybe they hold no real purpose but we still do the work we do because we are either told to or it keeps us busy or gives us a little money to live on. Maybe I do not need to know everything but it still does not stop me from thinking of what is going in that hole he keeps digging everyday.

‘Rainy Season’

You can usually smell the rain coming. The wind will pick up first then the dark clouds in the distant coming over the hill. Then the thunder rolls over the town. People start to scramble back home to get the laundry down, the kids inside and the house closed up. You can first hear the rain on the banana tree leaves then the rain comes out of nowhere, pounding at the tin roofs. If you happen to get caught in the rain for no more than a second you a drenched. The streets become deserted, the market a ghost town and the awnings to every petrol station and shop crowded with people. For a few moments everything is silent except for the sound of the storm that is almost deafening. After the storm passes, the streets become filled with people, the bicycle taxis back on the road and the market full of life.

Ni bibi (It’s Bad)

This is not the first time people have told me that what I do is bad in any way but this is a comprehensive list, though not limited to, what people have told me are bad.

Whistling or singing in public (for women only). Drinking water right before bed. Not having Nido in your house. Not cleaning your muddy running shoes even though you run everyday. Washing your own laundry and cooking for yourself. Reading for long periods of time. Jumping in puddles. Not wanting a husband. Drinking beer on a Monday. Leaving papers, books and coffee cups strewn across the kitchen table. Wearing trousers for more than two days in a row (for women only again).

xxx

Scrabble

It seems harmless and fun but also a good way for people to learn English. We met at a pub with a scrabble board, two Rwandans, one English/French dictionary, three Americans and a lot of beer. After playing a few words we quickly realized we had been had with this dictionary of theirs. They played the word eek! and we challenged them and they said it was in the dictionary so it stay stays on the board. I realized then that I hated board games but especially board games that people do not know the rules to. So after we drank a few beers we just laughed it off and then started playing any word including proper nouns. Shockingly enough, the Rwandans won and we thanked them and then on the walk back home swore that it was a Muzungu trap.



Gardening

We planted seeds finally in our little piece of land the hospital gave to us. After only one week I can see small green leaves everywhere. Gardening seems like a no brainer sort of task but I was worried that everyone would watch us plant and then nothing would grow. We are now in a semi competition (I call it semi because he does not know I have made it a competition) with the guy who planted next to us. He said he prays for rain everyday so that his garden will grow, I figure I do not need to pray since our gardens are close enough together. Double prayers are like voting for the green party, it’s like throwing your prayer away. So I continue to pray for world peace and other selfish things.

Zen Baking

I have been known to clean and bake when I am stressed. I encountered the problem of moving to Africa and therefore not having an oven or non-toxic cleaning supplies. The other night after a long day at work, I cooked a really good dinner but still felt I needed to do something. I remembered I had seen a recipe for no bake cookies so I tried a recipe figuring that if they don’t turn out the dough would not be all the bad either. It was nice being able to ‘bake’ again even if it was a fakers baking. The cookies turned out really good and now I think I should become a food photographer in my next life.

xxx