Everyday

There is something meditative about a violent rainstorm. Like a water balloon bursting its contents over the dry red earth, the rain comes in an assault of pounding drops that bounce off the tin roofs. The thunder claps in tune to the lighting, and I resolve myself to a day of doing nothing in the warm yellow light of my apartment, listening to the barrage of noise outside.
I havn't been writing much over the last few weeks, I know. In the process of cultural adaptation, life in Rwanda became routine. Caught up in my job, dinner with friends, and going about every day life, I stopped finding things to write about. Afterall, living in a different culture is normal for many expats here, and for everyone else, Rwandan life is... just life. No more thrilling than getting up, going to work, providing for your family, and falling back in bed is in everyone else's lives. Somewhere in the month of November, being here became completly natural, and I stopped appreciating it.

Granted, there is a lot to be said for habits and routine. Habits are apparently an important part of our lives because they simplify our decision making process; the choice is easy when you follow your routine. But I found myself feeling stuck. Just over the halfway point of living here, and I felt a little jaded, removing myself from the experience in small ways. At camp, we called this the fifth-week-syndrome: the point in the summer when the initial energy has dissapeared and doesn't kick back into gear until you realize what precious little time is left. Standing in the valley, the next moutain seems very tall, and it's easy to forget the elation felt at the top.

Luckily, I got the push I needed. This week I went on a curriculum development retreat in Ruhengeri (now named Musanze), close to the volcanoes and mountain gorillas. The drive through Rwanda's rolling hills gave me another chance to marvel at this country's immense beauty. The rain has left the landscape vibrating in green, the various shades of trees and crops contrasting with the damp red earth. Colourful printed fabrics add yellows and reds to the landscape dotted with farmers heaving the land, coaxing their bananas, beans, coffee and tea to grow. I spent two nights taking baths in my own luxurious hotel room and three days getting to know my co-workers and making what felt like a valuable work contribution. Spending some time on my own excursion allowed me the freedom to live my emotions without expectations or comparisons. The retreat reaffirmed the relationships I have made here, the importance of the work I'm doing, and the every day thrill of life in Rwanda.

It seems that routine is a dangerous trap; it catches us up in a churning river of monotonous existance, forcing us along with such speed that we cannot grasp the joy that is just beyond our reach. Every now and again, it's worth clamboring up the bankside to take a look around, even if it is to simply appreciate the river you have been floating in. Living here has allowed me to take a step back from my own life and see just how lucky I am, even moreso for the opportunity I have to be here. And I intend to make the most of it in the next two months, appreciating life, as it is, everyday.

What are we doing, really?

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/7740652.stm

What's your take on that?

I'm not entirely sure yet.

Football

Granted, I am not the world’s number one fan of the sport. I got winded when I was nine and stopped playing soccer, and although I’ve watched a lot of my sibling’s games since, I can’t say I’ve ever really loved the game.

Enter Amahoro Stadium: 20 000 chanting fans, the most animated I have ever seen Rwandans. The under 17 team was playing Burkina Fasso to qualify for the African Cup. They didn’t win, but the atmosphere alone was enough to make me a football regular. It was exhilarating! Busses full of singing fans streamed towards Rumera, and we sat behind the section with the loud horns, giant drums, masks and Rwandan flags. The colorful dots of people across the field swayed back and forth and leaped up with each scoring possibility, cheering on the blue, green and yellow team. I think I may have watched the fans more than the game, actually. Being part of that atmosphere was the highlight of my weekend. Needless to say, I think I’m a fan.

Goin' on a Lion Hunt

Safari Time!!! Six months in Rwanda would not be complete without at least a couple of big game sightings. With our Canadian supervisor here for a visit, a 2 night trip to Akagera park here in Rwanda needed to be in the plan. It was absolutely fantastic! Although it isn't a great park (no elephants, lions, cats, or rhinos spotted... frivulous lion hunt singing) I saw so many animals in their natural habitat, got to camp overnight on the plains of Africa, watch the sun rise over the lakes, see horizons and breathe fresh air.

The highlight of the weekend would be an up-close-and-personal encounter with a damn baboon. Turns out those creatures are not the wise primate of the jungle. I knew he wasn't to be trusted, and was just shutting my window when the little thief leaped onto the roof of the SUV and CLIMBED INSIDE. Needless to say, the girl closest to the door didn't think to exit it, so we were trapped in the back with this primate ravaging through our food. My, what teeth it had! It couldn't bite through our bottles of banana liqueur and I was pretty glad when it found our bread so that it wouldn't start to go for human flesh. I had visions of it clawing my eyes out. Thankfully our trusty guide smacked it with a sleeping bag enough to make it jump back out, and then threw rocks at it until it scurried away. And then we all burst out laughing.

We also paid extra for a boat tour out to an island with crocodiles and hippos! It was just like the disney ride along the river, only we didn't almost get eaten. A giant croc sauntered into the water from the land and glided towards us, and we turned around only to have hippos right next to us. It was amazing!

The giraffs will remain my favourite animal though. They seem so... mythical. Even seeing them in their natural habitat seemed strange, as though they were planted there or we were going through a fake animal adventure park. We saw a group of 12 up close and personal, as well as a couple on a distant hill. The scenary was also pretty incredible, with rolling red hills, grassy plains, swamps and lakes. Watching the sun rise was an unforgettable moment, as the croaking of the frogs was replaced by songs from holographic like birds. It was a pretty magical weekend.

Perspective

I joined a writer's club here in Kigali... random, i know. Here is a poem I shared there this week, inspired by what I see here everyday.

Perspective
I see a young woman,
A mother of three,
Tender, earnest, loving,
A life of responsibility.

You see a young girl,
A victim of idiocy,
Cold, incapable, ragged,
A life void of what could be.

I am in awe of her grace,
Her refusal to give up,
Her strength, faith, and courage,
Yet they are still not enough.

You are in complete disgust,
Appalled that she would even,
Dare to make her eldest beg,
A street brat, a heathen.

You can't see her scars,
I know her agony is far more than skin deep,
She toils each day, not respected,
Just to make ends meet.

You preach kindness to all,
Peace, love, acceptance should fall free,
Yet you can't even see,
She's just a woman like me.

History

"Wake up. He won"

My phone beeped at 6:21 this morning, a text from L letting me know I can start to restore my faith in the American people, and begin to believe that change is possible.

Last night on my way to an 'election party' at a restaurant, I walked past a group of children who were fighing over who got to be Obama. A king of the hill type game with a political twist. The energy buzzed and the talk is constant A black man is president of America. As much as I think that's a label given to him and not personally embraced, there is still a lot to be said for it. A source of inspiration, a great moment in history. Where were you when Obama was elected? Why, I was in Africa, a world apart but not so far away.

As I listened to his speech this morning I couldn't help but think that Yes We Can! will be my generation's I have a Dream. I was moved a little more than I would like to admit. A day for the books, a moment to remember, a glass ceiling shattered and a reminder of the potential that determination and leadership hold. A fine day, indeed!

Be Humankind

As I sit here at my comfortable desk, checking emails, sending messages, and browsing the news, I feel slightly ashamed. Less than 200 km away from me a major humanitarian crisis is underway. If I was at home, close to such catastrophe, the workplace would be a mess. News updates would be blaring, aid convoys would be organized, and suffering would not go un-noticed. Here, I sit. No one is even talking about it.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. About how conflict like that can start, and how it possibly ever ends. The DRC has been in turmoil forever, and I think it’s fair to say that most of it can be traced back to colonialism, followed by a lack of leadership. I won’t go into details about my political opinions here, as really, they’re irrelevant anyways. The fact of the matter is that people think that happiness can only come if “enemies” are erased from their land and their lives; a dangerous, threatening, terrible thing to believe. It is a belief that has lead to hatred, fuelling destruction and turmoil, murders and rape, and the uprooting of 250 000 people, now refugees in the eastern part of the DRC, along the boarder of Rwanda.

All day, I have been trying to understand what it could possibly be like, to live as a refugee. Gathering what you can carry, multiple children in tow, running away from your home, family, and life. Many of the refugees are living in the jungle, too afraid to seek assistance. If I had been born there, I could be the mother of four, terrified, hungry, with nothing to give my children, at the mercy of aid agencies who are slow to respond, caught up in their own beauraucracy and political undertones. I don’t think I can even properly imagine that. Nor can I properly imagine the stem of such upheaval. My friend, E, who was a soldier before his 15 birthday, told me that he is proud of me for at least asking the questions. Apparently, no one really has the answers.

I think part of the reason is fear. Part of it is survival. Some of it is ingrained, indoctrinated, a tradition of hatred passed through the generations. Greed plays a role; with so little resources, there is not enough to go around. Who will receive them – you, or them? It is difficult to think about. It makes me sad.

Worst still is that I cannot picture the violence, specifically in the DRC, ever properly settling down. How can it end? How will it end? Everyone is not going to miraculously get along. How much will outside influence help, or will it just mess everything up? Attention must be paid. "Never again" must be upheld. I cannot sit back and watch this world fall apart.

We need to start with understanding. All over the world, piece by piece, slow by slow. It starts with me, and it starts with you. Each and every one of us is priceless; our rational, human lives hold too much value to be given a number. We are all someone’s child, a sibling, a parent, a friend, a person. Kindness, I believe, is the answer. Every day kindness, that is. It is not easy, but it is easier if we start to see one another for who we are: the same. If the world really is going to change, that is the fundamental starting block: to be humankind. I have the audacity to hope for that, at least.


*** The situation in the DRC has not spilled over into Rwanda. My supervisor from Canada is coming to visit (in a pre-planned trip) on Friday and will check out the situation. Currently I feel very safe and there is no need to worry.***