My sunny shiny

This morning I was sitting outside with the older girls (Anette, Divine, Esperance, Lilian, Deborah, and Dada) we had all just bathed and were just enjoying the early morning sunshine. Meredith came walking up the path, and I said to her “Good morning sunshine!”. Just a typical American phrase, but by the girls reaction you would have thought I told the world’s funniest joke. They erupted into guffaws, shrieks and squeals. They were completely beside themselves, and Meredith and I just looked at each other in utter confusion. The girls continued to gasp for breath, occasionally getting a word or two out: “Sunny shiny! You are sunshine! My shiny shiny!” It was hilarious. Meredith and I tried to explain that it was just a saying, meant for the morning or when someone first wakes up, a little but like a term of endearment. They weren’t getting it, and still don’t. All day (even the little kids now) they call me sunshine, or sunny shiny.
Language really is the butt of most jokes here. The other day we sent 10 new brooms down the girl’s home for them to take away to boarding school. Today, we asked Felicity (the house manager) if she had packed the brooms, and she told us she had not. We asked her if she even got them, and she told us she had not. Mama became really angry (after all, ten lost brooms is precious lost money) and started yelling, asking everyone whether they had seen the brooms to sweep with. Felicity heard the word sweep, and said “Oh yes! Sweep sweep!” and brought out the brooms. Apparently when we said ‘brooms’ she thought we meant pants, and we had not sent her any pants so she was confused.
Claude is probably the funniest language joke of them all. It’s so funny to hear this little tiny person just spit out this babble of Kinyarwandan. It sounds like absolute jibberish coming from a four year old, but I am told he is quite eloquent. Today he kept saying “I am NOT black” but in his cute little accent. Oh wait, also I shouldn’t say he said that, he SHOUTED that everywhere we went. It was a song for him, one he has been singing all day long. This same kid, yesterday came up to me wearing a disgusting amount of perfume, and told me his wife in England sent it to him.
I learned a new word myself today. The word is ‘da-goo-ku-bit` which means “I will beat you”. Not in a menacing way, but in a “Claude! Get off the top of the water tower now, and take off Molly’s dress! Dgukubit!” I love it, for a few hours it was effective but now everyone just thinks it’s funny to hear the muzungo yell at kids in Kinyarwandan.
I was also chastised for teaching the mama’s in the nursery slang terms for things. We were all laughing, having a good time, teaching each other our native languages. The women wanted to know what all their privates were called, and the undergarments. I thought it was pretty funny, so I taught them boobies, vajayjay, booty, chonies, and bra. I was laughing, they were laughing….funny stuff. Mama Arlene didn’t quite think so, she would prefer I used terms like “breasts”. I suppose she is right, I shouldn’t be setting this ladies up for embarrassment later. But it brought a smile to my face to hear them say “bobby’s” and “vahshayshay”. I’m a terrible person. As soon as I am done writing this I think I will go give a more accurate anatomy lesson.

The thing about this place is you can be here for one day or three years and feel the same way. You forget there was a ever a time your feet weren’t stained with mud, your legs were shaved, you slept on a real mattress not a square of foam, you traveled by car instead of on foot or mototaxi. You forget that once upon a time there were choices of where and what to eat, that there was once a time where I wasn’t needed, cried for, or followed every second. I’ve barely been here for a week and half, but this is my whole life right now. I can hardly think of the future, and my past seems to not even exist. It’s completely bizarre, and although I knew I felt this way last time, I didn’t expect it so much now. Yet here it is that same old familiar feeling. Rwanda is just home for me, these kids and my friends are my family. Today I washed smelly babies, picked and ate an avocado for lunch, had limited yet laughter filled conversations with the mama’s, carried Soso until my arms were sore, lovingly yelled at Claude for scaling a water tower, got irritated at Prince for getting boogers in my hair but then loved him even more because of how tight he was pressing his face into me. Today I painted 120 finger nails bright pink (including Claude’s of course), took the littlest ones to the clinic for measles immunizations, took a cold shower just to put on dirty clothes and trek back through the mud, saw a cow outside my bathroom window, laid out in the sun while the girls braided my hair and watched the boys play basketball, made cookies on the microwave with Meredith and ate them as if I hadn’t had cookies in years, watched a VHS tape on a TV from the 80’s, danced to Rwandan pop, read books to Davide, got peed on by Davide when he fell asleep on me, played Old Maid, found a huge beetle in my shoe, and taught Luki it’s not okay to wear lipstick. Today I lived, and was loved. It took a week and half for the feeling to set it, but now I cannot imagine myself anywhere but here.

“Mellly Chlist-maasss”

This years Christmas is by the far the most bizarre I have ever experienced. While most of you are hanging stockings, leaving out cookies, and going to bed excitedly awaiting the morning to see what santa brought…I was plucking meat off of turkeys, stripping them bare, ripping every last fleshy bit from their bones. It was gruesome, sticky, revolting, and yet extremely satisfying. Tomorrow for Christmas dinner, we will have turkey and a carrot salad instead of the usual rice, beans, and banana mash. I was excited, until I got way too intimate with those poor turkeys. They were literally killed a few hours before, and here I was just ripping them limb from limb. I can wipe boogers with my bare hands, get peed on, and clean up some nasty scrapes but this disgusted me. Not to mention the insides, like the kidneys and heart. Mama made fun of me for being so “American” and not able to handle a turkey that still had the neck and all the giblets.
It was just beginning to get light when I woke up Christmas morning. I rolled over to go back to sleep, but was unable to as dark figures rose all around me, whispering “Merry Chreeest-mahhhs” to each other. I couldn’t help but smile, as they all raced to get dress and be the first to wish Mama Arlene merry Christmas. I resigned myself to this early morning, and got up myself. Rwanda truly is a beautiful place. As I walked to Mama’s house, lagging behind the eager girls, I took in the beautiful countryside where I was lucky enough to spend a few weeks. The sun was just beginning to shine through the fog and over the hills, bathing every hut, field, tree, and person in this magnificent golden pink glow. The mornings here just feel so fresh, everything is a little wet, the air is cool but not cold, there is this sense of calm and quiet, as if the whole world is just about to wake up.
I helped the girls clean the Hope House (like a recreation center) for the Christmas celebration. I am amazed at how much dirt can accumulate in a place, we literally swept piles. Everyone has been tracking mud because of the rains. We put out the Christmas tree, hung decorations, and set up the benches. The kids are so cute; there are signs all over that say “Mary Christ Mass”. After we cleaned the Hope House, I went over the help the mama’s get the babies ready. I wish I could teleport here sometimes; I think I could be having the worst day of my life, and then walk into the nursery and instantly become happy. Something about all those smiling faces, reaching little arms, and adorable waddles, all saying “eegan, eegan”.
At ten o clock, we had the Christmas Celebration. All the kids, neighbors, and staff crammed into the Hope House to be a part of it. It’s nice to see everyone in their best clothes, the mama’s with their bibles, the little kids whispering together, the older ones patiently waiting, and the babies running around oblivious to it all. Mama Arlene started the ceremony off by telling the story of Jesus’s birth and why we celebrate Christmas. Then some of the kids did a little nativity skit, which was hilarious because SoSo was “Jesus” and he did not like that one bit. He howled the entire time, and the kids just tried to shout over him, so everyone was just yelling. It was quite the Christmas play. After the kids did some Christmas songs, it was time to open presents! I can’t thank everyone who donated enough. The kids LOVED their Christmas presents. The babies got tennis balls, and baby dolls. The little boys got little race cars that they zoom all around. The little girls got to feel like grownups and got little vanity kits, with lip gloss, nail polish, and mirrors. They were thrilled. Some of the little boys got hats, and they love them. You wouldn’t think hats would be that great of a Christmas gift, but they are a luxury here, and unnecessary expense. So they are all fighting over them. Thanks to whoever donated Hungry Hungry Hippo, but I must say I dislike you a little bit. They kids won’t stop! “Play with me, play with me.” They love that game, I heard the “chomp chomp chomp” all day! Glad they are happy though. ALL the gifts were great, the fire fighter t shirts, the card games, the chalk, the little random toys like a doctor set, the clothes, the lotions and chapsticks….the kids were so happy, it made for a great Christmas. I got a present too! Mama Arlene got me an umbrella, since it’s so rainy. It felt good to have a little gift, I hadn’t expected anything at all. After presents came a real treat. A friend of Urukundo, an English man named Tom who works for Feed the Hungry, gave us four cases of Fanta soda! The kids rarely get soda, so this was quite the present. Even the littlest ones got a Fanta, which was hilarious to watch them experience carbonation for the first time. The kids also got a Sambosa, which is this little fried triangle thing with meat inside. They are so good, but so bad for you! They make me sick, and did last summer too, but I can’t help but eat them. It was such a fun atmosphere to be in! I yet again looked around and just felt so happy to be there. Mama’s and neighbors were socializing, laughing and chatting. The babies were fascinated with their Fanta’s, everyone was playing with their new toys and games, the older kids had put on music and were dancing…it was Christmas celebration unlike any other I have experienced.

When we cooked the turkey, we had gallons of leftover turkey juices, so Meredith and I decided to make egg noodles cooked in the turkey juice. It was really fun; we made them from scratch, rolled them out, and sliced them into little noodles. They turned out really well, a little too thick, but that’s because toward the end we were lazy and didn’t roll the dough thin enough. Thick or not, there weren’t any leftover. Christmas dinner was fantastic; I was full for the first time in days. I felt sick, there was so much fried potato wedges, turkey (which I actually couldn’t even eat, I was so disgusted with the process), carrot salad, noodles, and bananas.

My day

Today I spent two hours dancing to Justin Beiber videos, it was fantastic.

Had breakfast with Mama Arlene, it was nice but I’m having to get over my egg phobia..I don’t want to be rude and not eat the runny gooey mess. Ugh. Just disguise it with toast, that’s my plan.

For a solid hour and a half, I laughed my butt off as Becka amused herself by putting a piece of paper on her head, walked around until it fell off, and when it fell…she rolled to the ground in a fit of laughter, she cracked herself up. Repeat.

I had naptime for a few hours with Davide…he really is such a sweetheart. I said “time to sleep” and he just laid down next to me, and closed his eyes.

I watched some more terrible TV. I cannot stress enough how truly awful the acting is. I don’t even understand what they were thinking when they made these films! The kids love it though, think it is so funny.

Claude is so awesome. Today Meredith (a friend of mine, Peace Corps that works here) was translating everything he was saying, and he is hilarious. He just narrates everything he does. “I am going to sit on Laweegans lap..I am taking this away from Davide, it is now mine…” Of course I have no idea about this, since I don’t speak the language, but now I just love him even more. He’s such a little brat, he doesn’t listen at all, and gets on my nerves 90% of the time…but then he burst out laughing the greatest laugh you’ve ever heard, with this big old smile, and kisses your cheek. Like a SourPatch kid…first he’s sour than he’s sweet.

Settled back in

This morning I woke up to a bright sunshiney day. It was really quite nice out, the air was moist and cool from the nights rain, yet the sun was shining and kept me warm. I went up to Mama Arlene’s house to take a shower, it had been a few days and although over summer I was able to go for a week or two without, I am no longer used to that. I had to do up the Mama’s house because I am staying down in the girls dorms. They take showers by pouring huge buckets of water over themselves. Not to sound terribly american and spoiled…but no. I can’t do that, its more a lack of coordination that anything. There would probably be water everywhere except on me. After I showered I went down to the new nursery and helped with the morning routine. I had to laugh out loud when I first walked in, there was just a mass of naked brown bodies yelling “Weegan” and toddling over to me. The new nursery has so much room, and the babies now have a bathtub, they no longer haveto use plastic buckets. The morning routine is a system of hand offs, one mama washes, one mama lotions, one mama dresses, and another mama prepares breakfast. I helped out wherever I could, but I do not have the system down. Funny how in six months you can forget something you did everyday. Those babies were so slippery, I put way too much baby oil on them. The mamas were laughing at me, because I couldn’t even get a grip on them. The babies eating breakfast is the cutest thing I have ever seen. As soon as I am able to get a steady internet signal ill put the pictures up, but for now just imagine eight little tiny toddlers sitting in a circle with their bread and porridge, happily “yummmm”-ing, grabbing at each others food, crying when their cups spill, and trying not to let their runny noses drip. It’s adorable. It’s even better because yesterday they all started singing “waka waka time for africa” over and over. Just these little voices, it was wonderful. I hung out in the nursery for most of the morning, letting the little girls play with my hair, running after dripping noses with a tissue, and trying to keep Claude out of trouble. I yet again found myself wondering why I took a shower, I feel just as dirty as I did before, if not more so. Oh well.
Today for lunch we had one of my favorite meals. It is cabbage, with some other vegetables, over rice. I love it, I could eat like five plates. I’m trying to be careful though, slowly letting my body get used to the food because I really cannot afford to get sick this time around. Last time was bad as it was, but at least then I had my own bathroom, and had the luxury to be as sick as I wanted, all night long. Now though, I am staying in a dorm with 6 other girls, with no running water. No thank you, so please stomach, work with me here.
The kids got an early christmas present this year. Mama was able to work out a deal with the cable company, and Urukundo now has 4 television channels! This is a big deal, if you remember we had to watch the World Cup on a fuzzy monitor, as our maintenace guy perched precariously on the roof with an antenna in hand. These channels are so much more interesting. There is an MTV, which would be great if the kids loved Teen Mom as much as I do, however they would much rather watch horrible Bollywood action films. There is also a nice cartoon channel that has Family Guy and The Simpson. I do not regularly watch either of those shows, but I would much rather watch those than the ridiculous anime cartoons they chose. Maybe by the end of the three weeks I’ll be able to convert them to better taste. If not though, it’s not the end of the world because there is also a TV in the room I am sleeping in, with a VHS player. It’s been pretty cool to watch all these old movies I forgot about. The kids love to watch Mary Poppins, The Sound of Music, The Parent Trap, and many others. Since they are on holiday, they are able to stay up much later than usual, watching movies. Last night I was exhausted and passed out early, however I woke around ten, completely disoriented and hearing “the hills are aliiiive with the souuund of muuusic” didn’t really help matters much.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve! I can’t believe it, this is the oddest Christmas I’ve ever experienced. In Rwanda the idea of Santa isnt really recognized, so Christmas Eve isn’t even a big deal. Christmas will be nice though, the kids are excited, they keep looking at their presents under the tree. This year each kid is getting an individual gift, like a toy, and something general. The boys are going to get a razor and deoderant, the girls are getting this really nice lotion, and the mama’s are getting umbrellas and nail kits.
I can’t get over how much better the envirenmont here is now. As most of you know, there were some major issues surrounding my homecoming in August. The Urukundo I left was an extremely hostile and negative place. This place is now brimming with peace and happiness. Mama Arlene is such a sweet woman, always turning the other cheek and trying to give others the best, even if they only try and give her the worst. The kids, especially the older ones, are so well behaved. There isnt the overwhelming pressure of strict guidelines, feelings in being inferior, and outlandish punishments that were in place over summer. It is remarkable to see how children will thrive and do their best when they feel loved. I believe that it is only when they feel threatened or unwelcome in their own home do they begin to act out. They clean up after themselves, make sure laundry is done, help the mama’s with chores, look after the babies…all these things they were struggling to do over summer when it was being demanded of them they are doing completely on their own now. Mama is happy, the staff is happy, the kids are happy, even the babies are happy. It is a chain reaction of feelings, that I felt immediately. Funny how a little thing like love can change the whole ballgame. All people need to feel is loved, and an entire home can turn around.

Terrible internet lately

It is crazy how everything can change, and yet everything also remains the same. I arrived in Rwanda a whole new person, a whole new outlook, and a whole new Urukundo waiting for me. Yet, the air smelled the of the same burning wood and diesel, the people greeted me with “hello sister”, Mama Arlene made me feel like I was finally home, and the country side was as beautiful as ever. It is rainy season, at the end of harvest so the fields and hillsides are green and lush, giving almost a jungle appearance. There seems to be a permanent low fog at the moment, making outside seems cold, but really it the weather is perfect. My whole first day it rained and rained, so I sat inside the girl’s home catching up with the older ones. I was exhausted, and we all fell asleep together. I woke up tangled up in limbs, and just smiled. Here I was, with such wonderful, kind girls, who truly love me for who I am. After the rain let off a little I went and saw the new nursery. If you recall, in earlier blogs, I had helped to lay the foundation. The nursery is now fully finished, and is a huge improvement for the babies. It is very spacious, with a washroom, and a play room with floor mats. The front of the nursery has also been gated off, so the babies can toddle in and out all day long without actually wandering away. I spent the rest of the day playing with them, although not entirely by choice. Claude would not let me out of his sight. I was worried he wouldn’t remember me, but as it turns out that was a foolish thought. He latched on to me as if I had never left. If I’m not holding his hand, he is on my lap. If any other kids try to climb up, he pushed them off. At first it was cute, but now I’m starting to feel bad, so I am trying to teach him to share. Share me. Sounds funny. Now that all the babies (except SoSo and Claudine) are walking, it seems like a horde of toddlers. The all just stumble around together, if I sit down on the ground I am immediately just swarmed with boogery faces and sticky hands all trying to sit on my lap. I love it! The new babies are really cute, the twins are shy but if you catch their eye they will just give you this huge grin. Prince is absolutely adorable! He is so little, and when I pick him up, he hold onto my neck so tightly and doesn’t let go. He is such a little cuddler. I cannot get over how big everyone is! Babies grow so much in 6 months! Everyone is talking, can say “shoes” and “Weegan” and can run around on their own without too much help. SoSo is basically a giant compared to when I left. He has gained so much weight, can sit up on his own, giggles, babbles and plays. Claudine is still on the road to success! Although she is not yet walking on her own, she can do it with just the support of one finger. She just needs to gain the confidence and one day soon will be able to let go and be on her own
I had my first Rwandan meal, and promptly threw it up. I think it was a mix between playing all day long, not having that food in a long time, and just being exhausted. I ended up sleeping the rest of the day. The older girls are so sweet, I’m staying in their room with them and they made sure I was nicely covered with blankets and made everyone that came in be quiet. I love them.
I went through all the presents you donated with Mama Arlene today. She is extremely thankful for every single one, and loved them all! She says it has saved her a lot of money, as she tries to have an individual gift for each child. Well, at forty kids that can get pretty pricey! So thank you again. The little toys and things are perfect for the younger ones, the lotions and nail polish will go the older girls, the boys love to play cards and games so those types of things will go to them, and all the baby clothes and bibs will be passed out tomorrow for immediate use.
The Rwandan government is on a huge campaign for circumcising all young boys. A doctor came to Urukundo and presented all our boys with health information, and then they were all given a choice to have the procedure done or not. They all chose yes, and are currently hobbling around holding their pants away from their bodies. They did not seem very excited to see me, but I do not blame them one bit for not running up to me and giving me a hug. I’ll let it pass for now 😉
Because it has been so rainy here, the power tends to go in and out. I apologize for not updating as well as I did before, I simply don’t have the access this time around. But I will do so when I can, and will get pictures up as soon as possible so you can see how much these kids have grown!

Here we go again!

Today, I started my second trip to Rwanda. I literally started today, threw everything into a suitcase a few hours before I had to board the plane out of Phoenix. What a contrast to my last trip. My mom and I had packed and planned for weeks leading up to the big day. I could hardly eat, I was so full of nerves and anxiety. The whole way my stomach was turning and mind wondering at what would be waiting at the last baggage claim. Not this time. I am so relaxed, it seems as if nothing is out of the ordinary. Of course I am very happy and excited, but more than anything I just feel at peace. Feels like I am going home. It’s going to just feel so RIGHT. I really don’t think I was meant to do anything else in life, except paint fingernails, yell at Claude for being naughty, tickle Laki, tease the boys about girlfriends, eat beans and rice, not shower, lay outside in the sun with babies….just enjoy life.

There are a few new babies at Urukundo! A toddler named Prince, and little twins! I can’t wait to meet them, as well as see how much the other little ones have grown! Hard to believe my little SoSo is six months old!
I just want to (again) thank all of you for helping me to get back here. Whether you gave me extra shifts at work, paid for my lunch so I could save money, donated clothes or toys, pushed a little extra Christmas money my way, or gave me words of encouragement…you got me here, and I thank you for that because truly I am the happiest girl in the world.

:(

“Every day we wake up, we choose love, we choose light….Love can free us from all excess, from our deepest debt, ‘cause when our hearts are full we need much less” –The Submarines
Family and friends.
I want to thank you for supporting me through this extraordinary Rwandan experience. Whether helping with funds, moral support through blog reading, or just kind words of encouragement you have been there with me through it all. I would not have been able to do this without you.
For those of you who have sent kind donations of vitamins and childrens medicines, Nurse Nancy knows they are coming and will be able to pick them up to add to the clinic. If you have sent any other packages, she will be returning the States in October and will be mailing me anything I have received. The money that was donated to the clinic has been mostly spend on antibiotics for our 30 kids that came down with strep throat, but the rest of it is in Nancy’s hands and she will be mailing me the reciepts for everything she purchases for the clinic. I thank you again for everything.
Sadly, my journey has come to an unexpected end. Due to circumstances mostly out of my control, I am currently sitting in the Brussels airport. Leaving Urukundo was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. The last few days have been an awkward blur of waiting to leave, and trying to squeeze last minute time in, yet still living out a normal day. Its funny how even though it feels like my life has spiraled downhill, life still goes on. There are still diapers to be changed, nails to be painted, kids to be fed, laundry to be washed, “broken” kids to fix, and everything else that is a part of the daily routine. This actually made the last few days easier, it felt like i wasn’t even leaving because there are so many things that need to be done all the time, it was quite distracting. My last day however, was really difficult to deal with. Everyone was kind of moping around, waiting for me to go. My buddy, Claude, would not leave my side. Someone had told him I was leaving so anytime I would walk away he would run after me yelling, “No Laweegan America!” All day, that was his mantra, it was never ending. Talk about heartbreaking. When it was actually time for me to leave, he was so angry. I saved his hug for last, but he was not having it. He just looked at me with his big black eyes, as if he was so mad at me for being another person to leave out of his life. For a four year old, he really understood that “America” means not coming back for a long time. I didn’t cry at any of my goodbyes, mostly I did my best to reassure the girls that they were beautiful, life would be wonderful for them, etc, etc. But Claude just killed me. I hate that my last image of him was his angry little face, glaring after the car. The past week, I have taken numerous videos of him thoough, capturing him at his finest, mostly getting in trouble but several perfectly adorable moments as well. I don’t know if those videos will bring me comfort, or pain but either way I am glad I was able to capture some of my best friend to take with me. I really do love that kid, he is so naughty and annoying. He is always pulling on my to do something, tangling my hair, jumping around, getting me covered in dirt, babbling on in Kinyrwandan, repeating things I say in English a million times….I miss him already. It’s been like 10 hours, but when you spend every waking minute with someone, ten hours feels like a lifetime of absence.
Of course I am missing everyone else too. Lately the girls have been reading Ernest Hemingway, and when they come across a word they don’t know they come to me and ask for an explanation. It’s a hard thing, trying to explain some words like ‘embarrassed’, ‘bother’, and ‘lust’. I’ve been doing a lot of acting it out; they usually giggle and say okay. I’m not sure if they actually get it ,or just feel bad at my awkward gestures and explanations. They boys are, well the boys. They were all completely MIA when it was time for me to leave, but that’s okay. It’s what I expected. I’ve had some fun with them lately, mostly because they have been up at the clinic so much. Everyone has had strep throat, and most balk at taking medicine. But they boys have been up there on time the most, hanging around with me, helping take the other kids temperatures. The one who has really stepped up is a secondary kid, Diescor. He rounds up all the kids, take temperatures, disinfects equipment, and just whatever else is needed. He wants to be a doctor one day, and is always reading medical books and asking Nancy questions. He is so smart. The other day he and I had a debate about how you cannot compare the poor and crime in Rwanda to the poor and crime in the States. What 15 year old boy does that?! He has big dreams of America one day, to be a doctor, and come back to Rwanda. Baby Hillie SoSo has started giggling, real giggles not just little coos’. I am so sad I won’t be there to watch this little baby grow. He has made so much progress in just a few months, I was really looking forward to seeing the kind of little human he will become. I have really been started connecting with little Becka too. It took her a month or so to warm up to me, but boy did she. She is the happiest baby of them all, always smiling and laughing. She is so clumsy; she can’t walk straight at all and is always falling down. Geez, I can’t even write this all down right now, because I don’t know where to start or if it will ever end, I miss my kids so much already. There are so many of them, and I know I tend to highlight and certain characters, but they really are all amazing. The quiet ones who I don’t talk to as much finally came out of their shells this weekend. We played cards, sang along to High School Musical, painted our nails, braided my hair, and just laid out in the grass chit chatting. The boys are so silly. I let them use my camera, and they made like a mini music video. They think they are so thug it cracks me up. They will get dressed in riduclous outfits, with gaudy belts, and hats, and just strut around making faces at the camera. I haven’t actually looked at the video yet, but I can’t wait to get home and see it. Wait, did I just say I can’t wait to get home? I take that back. I would rather watch it in person any day then some video. Let me make myself clear, I HATE the fact that I will be back in Arizona in less than 2 hours.
Man, sitting here in this brightly lit, clean, modern airport, I miss Rwanda so much. The Kigali airport lost power three times when I was waiting to get on my flight. There is one gate there, and the staff is all friendly Rwandans who greet you and talk to you like an old friend. It was hot in there, I was sweating, and it definitely smelled like deodorant free Rwandan’s. Even still, it was better than the Western world. When I was getting off this last flight I accidently hit someone with my backpack. The man turned around, and told me to be more careful. Whoa! Talk about welcome back to the world of white people. If that would have happened in Rwanda, the Rwandan would have been apologizing to me. Everyone just apologizes for everything, “Poray” they say, as they extend their hands to make sure everything is right.
Yesterday I rode a moto-taxi into Gitarama. It really was the perfect last moment to experience Rwanda. I had to walk for a good ten minutes before I came across a moto that was available and open. Int hat ten minutes I said “Mwira way” “Amakuru” and “Muraho” to at least six people. I shook at least ten people’s hands, most of them kids. That’s just how it is in the Rwandan countryside, everyone just greets each other. It doesn’t matter if you know them or not, it is polite to ask them how they are or to say good morning. I started tearing up at one woman who hugged me, and told me I had “Bootehful Haaah” (beautiful hair), just thinking how much I am going to miss the genuine nice people of this country. As I was getting on my moto, I stumbled a bit because my long skirt caught on my shoe. A random passerby reached out to me, apologizing in Kinywarwandan. Just such nice people, I tell you. As I rode my moto the few miles into town, I just breathed in the scent of Rwanda. Fires were burning, and mix of smoke and diesel fuel filled my nose. It’s quite a terrible smell, one that gives headaches and causes nausea, yet it is fantastic all the same. It is the smell of mama’s cooking for their families, and men working to better their country, riding around in huge trucks piled with bananas, or oil, or more men. Rwanda is really a breathtaking landscape. I have gotten used to the rolling hills, covered in crops and jungle, the mud bricks homes with laundry lines and dirty kids out front, the women strolling along the highway in their brightly colored garments and things on their heads, the mass amounts of green vegetation, the soldiers posted with their AK’s, the way the sunset looks as it peaks through the trees and seems to rest on top of the hills, the roadside shops advertising Coke and the local phone company.
I just love Rwanda. I thought it would be my home for the next six months, but that was shortened. It really is sad, I am sad. Someone told me before I go that Africa breaks your heart, and it’s true. I think no matter when I would have left, my heart would feel this heavy. Its not even that I’m overly emotional hysterical, or being dramatic. I have not shed very many tears, but I feel so blue. My hair feels so un-played with, my feet are not covered in red dirt, my arms are not rocking SoSo to sleep, my voice isn’t shouting at Claude to get out something he shouldn’t be in, little girls aren’t painting my toes, my feet aren’t running after babies screaming in delight, my tongue isn’t sticking out at goofy boys, I’m not dancing to crappy yet catchy Rwandan tunes, my mind isn’t calculating medicine dosages, my fingers aren’t making little friendship bracelets, my mose isn’t breathing in the smells of lunch and dirty diapers, my tummy isn’t full of rice and beans, my lips are blowing raspberrys on little bellies, my ears aren’t hearing “Laweegan, Laweegan!”, my clothes aren’t sticky with porridge or smelly with pee. Well actually that’s a lie, before I left yesterday I tried my best to keep clean, but I picked Davide up, and he promptly peed all over my skirt. I rinsed it out the best I could, but still.
I am so lonely right now, sitting in this aiport. Never before had I had any problems with being by myself, I tend to like my own company. But this is the most quiet I’ve been surrounded by in a long time, no one is calling my name, or just yelling, or laughing. It’s a strange thing to go from being with lots of people all the time (literally, all the time) to being with…no one. Just me and my memories. I hope that people understand when I get home, why I don’t want to hangout, why I do not want to turn on my phone, or celebrate my homecoming. I’m just sad, and lonely. I left my kids behind, and miss them with my whole being. Every part of me is longing for them. On the plane, I heard a baby start to cry, and without even thinking about it I listened harder to see who it was and why they were crying. Was it Davide just throwing a fit because he hates wearing shoes? Is it Claudine who hates loud sounds and is genuinly terrified? Becka being a brat, and wanting something someone else has? Johnny wanting to be picked up? Or Hillie, awake from his nap and ready to be held? It really took me a second to realize what I was doing, and had to shake myself out of it.
So please, be patient with me and try to be understanding. It is nothing personal against you, it is my broken hear that needs to be mended not just forgot about. I feel like I am coming out of Rwanda a completely different person, with different priorities and desires. I think that because of this I will lose some “friends” who only like me as the fun party girl, not the motivated, African loving, humanitarian. However, I know I have some amazing people in my life who will work with me through this transition and I thank them for that, for the continuing support whether I am in Rwanda or not.

Rhegan

My children <3

Weekend part I

I have officially found a social life to balance out my Urukundo life, and am never coming home. I have the best of both worlds, so why would I?
I spent this weekend in Kigali, Saturday and Sunday night. It was a crazy experience.
Meredith and I got on the bus at around noon Saturday. I love taking the bus in from Gitarama to Kigali. It is a pretty big bus, you have your own seat, and it is relatively clean. This is much different from the crammed bus/vans you see all over here. It is a nice way to just people watch and look at the countryside whisking by. It is also just a relaxing forty minutes, before we enter the bustle of Kigali. As soon as the bus pulls onto the busy street that is sort of like th bus depot, the chaos begins. People bang on the windows as you pull in, trying to sell candy, cloth, jeans, knock off purses, and many other random things. There is no lollygagging when you get off the bus. You are immediately thrust into throngs of people, and you must push your way through and be strong willed about where you are going or you will be lost amongst the crowd. It is so loud, cars honking, people shouting, babies crying, everyone pushing and walking through traffic. We hopped on another bus, this one a small van type, crowded with people. We rode all through Kigali, and went to a clothing market. There were tons of clothes, nice and worn, and tons of cloth that could be made into clothes. It was pretty cool, I did some shopping and treated it like a thrift store. There are a ton of really ugly clothes, and all of a sudden you will find something awesome. I got a few dresses that should have totaled out to be like $100, and ended up being four dollars. There are some beautiful materials there. I would love to have a dress made, it doesn’t even have to be African-ish it can be Western style but with gorgeous patterns. After we went to that place, we took another bus to a different district of Kigali. We walked down this road just lined with all kinds of shops, trying to find this jewelry store. This guy makes handmade silver jewelry, real silver. He can do anything you want, as long as it is not terribly complicated because he does have limited tools. The shop was closed, and I was disappointed but then I realized we are in Rwanda and nothing is the same here. We were able to talk to his neighbor, get his phone number, and call him to come open up the shop. In typical Rwandan fashion, he says “No problem no problem five minutes.” He came and met us, opened up the shop, and we designed some jewelry. I designed a ring, pure silver, and it cost me NINE DOLLARS! Handmade Rwanda jewelry for nine American dollars. I can’t wait to pick it up in a few weeks.
After we did some shopping we went to a place called Bourbon Café to visit one of our friends, Fred, that works there. He gave us some free ice cream and drinks, as he always does. I love Fred. Bourbon has such wonderful food and drinks, its really American and like a little coffee shop. People are doing business meetings, hanging out with friends, working on their computers, or just reading a book. I like the environment there a lot. After we had some laughs with Fred, we went on our way. Our purpose that night to be in Kigali was to attend this charity mock dating show thing at some restaurant. We decided to take a cab because we were running late. I love hanging out with these Peace Corps girls, because they are fluent in Kinyarwandan. They are able to argue and barter the prices of everything. We got into this cab car that had agreed on the price of 1000 rwf (2 usd) to take us form Bourbon the restaurant. We were about halfway there when the driver started upping the price to 2000. The girls I was with, Meredith and Jocelyn, were outraged and refused. He was relentless, and kept saying that the price was raised. We told him fine, to just let us out at the street than because we were not paying more than the agreed upon price. The driver let us out, and we went to pay him yet he still wanted us to give him 2000. He wouldn’t take the one thousand we were offering him. He started yelling at us, and so Jocelyn (picture a big black girl, beautiful, loud, and from Jersey) said if he didn’t want it fine, and we started walking. We were not too far from the restaurant, but we were on a dirt road, it was poorly lit and we were walking quickly to get out of there. The taxi guy started yelling at us, saying we were cheating him and he would call the police. Jocelyn was outraged, and told him to go ahead. It was true, Rwandan police would have totally been on our side. We had done nothing wrong, and now this guy was harassing us. He began to follow us, creeping along slowly in his car. We kept walking, thinking he would leave us alone but he never did. Finally he revved his engine, cut in front of us, and got out of his car. I began to panic, my heart was racing. He grabbed Jocelyn’s arm, and she shouted “DO NOT GRAB ME, DO NOT TOUCH ME!” At this point I was really nervous, ready to bolt. Out of nowhere, about ten Rwandan men descending upon us. I gulped, no longer nervous, but pretty much accepting my death. But instead of beating us, or turning it into a gang rape, they yelled at the man and told him to leave us alone. The man just kind of laughed sheepishly, and drove off. Thank God for Rwandans right? I was so surprised, and filled with this warm feeling. There really are good people in this world.
We finally made it to the restaurant in one piece. We were supposed to pay to get in, for 7000 rwf it was all you can eat/drink. When we got there though, no one asked us to pay and at the buffet table no one asked us for our tickets. So we filled up our plates, and waited for the dating show to start. The show eneded up being one of the funniest things I have ever seen. The thing was hosted by a Philipino family, so there were a few Philipino contestants, a few Rwandans, and a few Americans. Talk about cultural differences. It was hilarious. For starters, no one could understand each other and each question/answer had to be repeated numerous times. Even when the question was understood, it still wasn’t really understood because different cultures thin k differently about their ‘best feature” or “a perfect date”. It was seriously great. By the end, the “choosers” were so frustrated with the people they were asking questions of, they just seemed to pick a random number. While all this chaos is going on, there is this little Philipino standing in the corner, clapping her hands gleefully at this thing she “organized”. I had a blast. Another great thing about these outings is the people that I meet. It was cool meeting all of Merediths friends, getting to know them, chatting and having a few beers. They are fun people; we all get along well so it was a good night.
My first night out in Kigali ended perfectly. I took my first moto taxi back to the house we were staying at. I was petrified at first. These moto’s are rinky dinky things, loud, the drivers weave in and out of traffic, and are really fast. Not to mention to helmets, that EVERYONE wears. I was convinced I was going to get lice. My other fear was getting separated from the other girls, I had no idea where we were going and no idea how to speak the language. So I had to have full trust in my moto driver to follow those girls. It really is an unsafe, sketchy thing and I’m not terribly comfortable doing it at one in the morning. The girls reassured me just enough for me to get on and try it once. A big reason we even did it was because the moto’s are like 400 rwf, and taxis are like 3000. They are so much cheaper, so it is a better option for us broke gals. I gripped the sides of my seat, and clenched my teeth in fear. As soon as we picked up speed and came over this one hill though, I relaxed and my breath was taken away. Rwanda really is the land of a thousand hills, and in that moment they were illuminated by the full moon. It was absolutely beautiful, and this feeling came over me as the wind was whipping my hair, I was flying through up down and around curves, and the beauty of Rwanda was all around me in the quiet of the night. I can’t even describe it, except for that feeling one has in the middle of the night, when it feels moon is high, and it feels like you are the only person in the world. It was magical.

Stupid birds

I am lying here at five in the morning writing this, because I cannot go back to sleep. These stupid crow things that I wrote about previously are keeping me awake. They are so loud! They will go right by window and “CRAWWWWK CRAWWWWK” and then fly onto the roof, with a huge bang, and then do God knows what. It sounds like they are dancing, it is so loud. Dancing or tearing the house down. I am going to be so tired later. It doens’t help that I got no sleep either, because the one night I am lazy and don’t use my mosquito net, I wake up at one in the morning to something (large sounding) buzzing around my head. I could hear it hitting the walls, landing on my sheets, and flying around me. I panicked, sat up and did some funky dance moves, then tucked my mosquito net in like it’s never been tucked before.

I am in love with these kids, even my subconscious knows that. Lately I have been having these horrible nightmares about coming home. They are always pretty much the same. I decide its time to come home, and I am excited about being back. Then, something will happen like stupid drama at a party, or dealing with guys, and I will get really upset. I end up sobbing and wishing I had never got the plane departing Kigali and away from my kids. I toss and turn in my sleep, finally waking myself up with tears running down my face. As soon as I realize where I am, my heart stops pounding and I relax. I have been such anxiety about leaving lately, I don’t know why. Its like ever since I set a date for departure, my heart is counting down and I know that the day is coming when I have to leave. I am able to concentrate on other things and still spend my days laughing and happy with the kids. Yet I still feel this sense of foreboding doom in the back of my mind. I cannot imagine waking up in the morning and being somewhere other than here. I can’t imagine a day without the laughter and tears of these kids. I feel like there really is no other life, other than here.
I want to start introducing you to my kids. I talk about some of them, but really mostly I talk about myself and why I am here and what I am doing. In reality, this is all about them and I love them more than anything, so I think they deserve a little blog action.
First, because he is laying on my bed next to me, is Hillie (SoSo). I never realized how fast babies grow, until being here. This kid has turned from a lump of baby that just poops and eats, to a full fledged adorable little baby. If you talk to him, he laughs and smiles and coos in the precious way only babies can do. He used to have super soft, curly hair but it is slowly falling out and his little Afro hairs are beginning to come in. I’m pretty sad about that, but what can you do. He is gotten so big as well. I used to fit him under one arm, he was so light and easy to hold. Now he requires two arms, and getting some chunk. He eats so much, he just chugs and chugs bottles, so much he threw up on me yesterday.
Fabrice is around 14 years old. He is currently peeking into my room, and I am pretending like I don’t see him. I love this kid. He thinks he is so cool, but he’s not cocky about it. He dances and sings, and is just hilarious. He is the only boy that I have really connected with. I can pretend fight him, cuddle up with him at during a movie, and share real laughs with. He cracks me up, and he doesn’t even speak good English.
Deborah is probably the smartest girl I have ever met. She is maybe about twelve years old, and such a skinny little thing. She speaks perfect English, and even a little German and French. I have been teaching her some Spanish and she is really picking that up as well. She is too smart for her own good though, she is sneaky and full of tricks. She is really good at lying, not to hurt you, but just because she knows she can come up with something you will believe. For example, when we walked into Gitarama I asked her why all the trees along side the road were painted white. She told me it was the mark the way when the President came to visit, but really it was just some white powder stuff that keeps away bugs.
Solange is the oldest out of the primary school kids. She is so funny, but in such a subtle way. She doesn’t try to be the center of attention at all, but somehow she remains one of the most central kids. When I was sick, she thought it was really funny to come up to me, pat my tummy, and ask how my worms were doing. Solange has a phenomenal voice, that girl can really belt it out but she still stays in the back of the choir and doesn’t try for solos very often. The other day I came up on her singing ‘Down’ by Jay Sean, and it was the most beautiful remix I have ever heard. She is always the one who notices if I am in a bad mood or angry at a kid, and she does her best to make it better. I think she is really struggling with Mama being gone, because she has been very down lately, and her cheerful smiles only come out every once in awhile. She is one of the girls I am working really hard on connecting with, so hopefully I can make her feel better the way she does with me.
Bosco, oh Bosco. I am infatuated with this child. He is the prettiest older boy we have, beautiful long eyelash and light creamy skin. He is so quiet and mysterious, I almost never hear him talk even around the older boys. He does like to dance though, everywhere he walks he will sometimes add a little hop or slide of a dance move in. Bosco is the most passionate boy when it comes to God. He is always the one singing the loudest in church and at dinner, the one with his eyes closed and hands lifted up in prayer. I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation with him, but I watch his grace from afar.
Little Claude. This terror has become my sidekick. He is stuck to me like glue, I literally have to hide and runaway when it is time for me to go. I love him so much, I wish I could take him home. He is so ridiculous, he is always pulling my hair out ponytails and messing it up, grabbing my hand and pulling me all over the place, repeating things I say, climbing into my lap, grabbing things out of my pockets, stealing my chapstick, eating my mints, and so many other annoying things that for some reason don’t bother me. His deep belly laugh, cheesy grin, and whispers in my ear saying “I wahhhnt ahh bahhnahhnahh” win me over every time. The other day, I did something terrible to him that made both of us cry and caused me to make a promise I cannot keep. It was bed time, and I was ready to go up to my room but he would not let me put him down. I finally got him on the floor and distracted by another kid, and I booked it. I took off running up the hill and out of sight. I heard little footsteps behind me, so I hid in a bush. I know it sounds mean but I was exhausted, he needed to go to bed and so did I. Then I saw him run past me up the road, and he began just sobbing. In an instant, I felt like such a terrible person. Here is this kid that has been ripped away from his mother (in prison), and a kid who is always distraught after the prison lady visits or goes and sees his mom. And here I am, another person running away from him. I lept out of the bush and grabbed him in my arms. He held me tighter than ever before and started whispering to me in KInyarwandan. We just sat there on the dirt road for a little whole until I could get a laugh out of him. I promised him I would never leave him again, whoops. That promise will do quite some damage on both our hearts in six months.
Giselle is such a pretty girl, and she is all of fourteen. In the church choir she is too cool to really get into, she mumbles and sways slightly instead of doing the rehearsed dance. She comes off shy, but I think it’s more that she has nothing to say she is wrapped up in her own world. At first I thought she was just the typical teenager, wrapped up in boys and makeup and cute clothes, but sometimes I’ll catch a glimpse of this beautiful girl doing other things. She seeks out the quiet (a very hard thing to find here) and will curl up with a romance book. She also seems to be SoSo’s primary caretaker. If he is not with the Mama’s or in my arms, she has him. All the time, she is cooing at him, making faces. He seems completely content with her, they get along great.
Belise is probably my favorite little girl, she’s about 8. I know that’s not allowed, but her charisma is so charming. She is always smiling, laughing, being such a silly little girl. She speaks wonderful English, and will spend hours with me teaching Kinyarwandan. She sounds each syllable out, and laughs when I get things wrong. He just has the happiest eyes I have ever seen. I am trying to capture it with a photo, but I can’t ever seem to get it right. She also knits, with crappy yarn and sticks for needles. With these two things she makes such pretty scarves and stuff.

Yesterday we had to do a very sad thing. I wrote previously about the elections coming up, and how there was a chance our little Ezekial would be going away from here. Well, I was making a sandwich for lunch when I saw the lady from the prison walking up the driveway. My stomach twisted in fear as I greeted her, hoping desperately she was just here for a visit. She talked with the managers for like an hour, all of them arguing and her showing paperwork. I didn’t want to be rude, so I busied myself with other things and tried to keep Claude and Ezekial out of the living room. The news was true though, Ezekial was going home with the prison lady, to live God knows where. All I knew is that I would never see him again. I felt sick, I loved this kid. Ezekial always starts the singing and prayers before meal times, you can count on him screaming (not singing) “OUR GOOOOD IS AN AWWWESOMEEEE GOOOOOD!” He is such a good kid; he always does what I ask him to do without question. He is only kid that doesn’t fight me when I give him medicine. He loves to watch the big boys play soccer, he stands on the outskirts of the field catching balls for them. You can see on his face how much he wishes he were bigger and could play with them. I am going to miss this child so much, I have lived with him for 7 weeks, yet I feel as if I am losing one of my own. Its hard to really grieve here, because I don’t think other people here really feel the loss or really even care. It might be one less mouth to feed to them. Or maybe that’s the way it is here, don’t make a show of it and just move on as if nothing happened. I truly feel like I’ve lost a child though, and in a sense I have. This little boy I’ve spent day and night with, I will never see again, never know how is life is turning out, even if he is eating three meals a day. Claude, the other prison kid, is having an extremely hard time with Ezekial being gone. HE is not himself, he cried when someone told him he was gone. He just sits listlessly on my lap, I can’t really get him to laugh. I almost wish he would cry, instead of just stare vacantly with these huge brown eyes. I didn’t put him down all day yesterday, he clung to me. Sometimes he would whisper to me in Kinyrwandan, which I’ve noticed he does when he is upset. However, today is a new day. I am hoping to go down there and see a bright eyed, happy boy. There are a billion things to distract him around here, so I hope that’s the case.
I just want to say again, how grateful I am to my wonderful friends, family, and even strangers. I have always felt loved, but now more than ever. I have been receiving numerous messages of praise, kindness, and love. I also have been receiving a lot of unexpected donations, so thank you so much really. I love and appreciate all the people I have in my life, you don’t know how much it means to have people supporting my dreams and really just being there for me in so many different way. Here, on another continent, a third world country in Africa you would think I would feel more alone that I have ever been but between you guys and my kids I have never felt more complete.