Reality

Reality is a funny thing. At some points it is so mystical and elusive, and then you will all of a sudden come face to face with it and it stops you in it's tracks. That has been the story of our time at orientation. Our training, for all its intensity and scheduling, can be likened to camp or college. Everything from meals to classes and trips is already set for us. It feels like we are living in this fake sort of life, apart from the rest of the world, even from the rest of Rwanda. We have this little bubble. And, I know it will eventually break and we will have to go our own separate ways, but right now we are stuck in this collective, dream-like mentality. Even learning Kinyarwanda seems like just another class that we are learning. It school, you learn. That's what you do. So, we go along from day to day doing what they tell us, and then you will get these blinding flashes of reality. The reality that will be the next two years of my life. The reality that I will be living on my own in some random Rwandan village doing who knows what. Sometimes these bolts come in the middle of class when we are talking about the reality of the poverty in the country. 60% of Rwandan households live on less than $1 a day. And, when meals cost around 300 - 400 RWF which is about the equivalent of 75 cents, there isn't much leeway. That means that more than half of families can only provide one meal a day. That doesn't even take into account their nutrition. It's difficult to listen to these statistics without the sinking realization that this is what is in store for us. This is everyday life. Other bolts happen while staring out the bus window, seeing small towns flash by. We are going to be there. There is still a level of excitement about starting our actual projects and getting involved with the community, but the longer we stay in our safe bubble of orientation, the less tangible that idea becomes. We are getting all this training but it is almost getting harder to see the end of that tunnel. Luckily, we are scheduled to find out our site placements fairly soon and will actually spend a few days visiting. Maybe that will change this odd perception we have about our reality.

A day in the life...

I know I have written about most everything we do on a daily basis at some point already, however I figured it would be entertaining to lay it all out. Since I live in a room with 3 other girls, and another 4 across the hall, mornings start with a considerable amount of shuffling and shifting, typically starting around 6:30, which also happens to be 0030 in Rwanda time (they start their day at 6). It's hit or miss for getting bathroom time when you want it. Either you get lucky and get a sink or you end up brushing your teeth in the backyard with your bottle of "clean" water. Breakfast starts at 7:00. Seats outside are limited so it is beneficial to get there early. The goodies such as peanut butter also go quickly. I have learned to love eggs here as that is really the only protein available for vegetarians. From 7:00 to 8:00 is eating, socializing, tea, and study time for whichever activity suits your fancy. At 8:00, we start classes, typically with language being first, since it requires the most concentration. We study our little brains out until we hear the glorious sound of the bell, or someone hitting the rusty tire wheel. Tea break at 10:00 has become our most beloved time. Snacks and tea/coffee are essential to getting through the rest of the morning. After a half an hour break, we get back to class, usually another language. Rwandans typically take long lunches, therefore so do we. From 12:00 - 2:30 we are free, free, free. This is typically prime internet time. Afternoon classes are run from 2:30 - 4:00 and then from 4:00 - 5:00. Thankfully they have taken into consideration our dwindling energy levels and attention spans. These classes are Medical (Malaria, GI, fevers, etc), Technical (Income generating activities, kitchen gardens, community activities, etc), Safety and Security, or Cross Cultural, basically Rwanda culture. The 5:00 bell has become one of the sweetest sounds. After class, we are free to do our own thing until dinner at 7:00. We typically go home and use this time to go see resource families, internet, study, throw a football, exercise, read, or just sit around with a cup of tea waiting for our brains to solidify again. Dinner is really no exciting affair, unless you happen into our backyard and watch them prepare our meal (always entertaining, especially if there are chickens involved). After being fed 3 times in the morning, and then not again until 7, we scoff down our food and everyone disperses to our own houses again. Nights typically revolve around studying more language, at least in my house. Or, if you can't handle anymore Kinyarwanda for the day, a game of Bananagrams, a movie, or reading before everyone crashes at 9:30 or 10:00. A peaceful night passes underneath the sheen of the mosquito net and it begins all again the next day! Sundays, our one day off, has become our laundry, general grooming, resource family, and skype date day. We have mixed up the monotony a few times with trips to Butare (the 2nd biggest city), a failed attempt to visit the closed King's Palace in Nyanza, and a failed trip to Nyungwe National Park to see monkeys which ended up being a $70 entrance fee and eventually turned out just to be a 6 hour ride in the buses. And, such is the life of a Peace Corps Trainee.

Pictures

So, I know I haven't done a great job at putting up pictures. It is mainly due to the fact that the internet doesn't allow for speedy uploading. So, a friend of mine has offered to share her album with whoever would like to see it. I believe you need a gmail account to see them. If you do not have an account, let me know and I could probably sign you into mine. Hopefully you are able to get into the album since her pictures are pretty amazing.

http://picasaweb.google.com/jolsen87

Beautiful Contradictions

Joy in the uncertainty. It seems like that is an excellent way to describe how these last two and a half weeks have been classified. We have been going non-stop since we got here with the exception of our two Sundays, which count as our weekend. There is comfort in the hectic schedule I am finding. It is so structured and rigid in so many ways, like meal times, lessons, etc. that when you are given free time, you almost seem overwhelmed with the choices. Granted, there aren't too many things to choose from; internet cafe, market, studying, or just talking with someone. Granted there are always optional activities such as engaging the local children in an impromptu frisbee game, but even with that, there is a level of uncertainty and awkwardness that we haven't gotten over. We are in this set schedule, but it still feels like you are flying by the seat of your pants, only just barely hanging on. I hope I will not have the unfortunate experience of losing my grip. Everything seems so precarious but at the same time, incredibly solid. Just the idea of being here. This is our third week in Rwanda and it still has the disbelief quality to it. A surreal experience, but at the same time, there is the weighty reality that this is home for the next two years. It's an incredible paradox, almost like the country itself. It's almost as if Rwanda itself is a paradox. The pain and beauty co-exisiting, the harsh rugged landscape combined with the life-giving greenery. It seems that we fit right in. The white students and the Rwanda teachers, overwhelmed and excited. Every opposite can be found in coexistence. Well, maybe not every opposite, but certainty a great number. I found the same thing to be true when I visited my resource mom the other day and the children were teaching me parts of the body. Here I am, the college-educated American, getting schooled by the 5 year old. Rwanda is an incredible diverse and novel place, it's hard to keep up with everything that happens at once. I feel as though I am missing 80% of what's going on around me because I have gotten so used to not paying attention. The colors, feel of the air, the expressions on people's faces, are all such unique experiences in themselves. I don't want it to pass me by but how can you take it all in without completely overloading yourself. Rwanda makes you want to smile, cry, stomp your foot, laugh, and shout all at the same time. It's a wonder you can find things to keep you sane, since it's only us students that are suffering from this manic sort of inattention. No, not inattention, just multi-focused attention. Who knows really, since I am suffering from it myself. It's like an entertaining form of ADD. Maybe it gets better after a while, but right now I hope it doesn't. Things seem to take on a more vibrant hue and everything has a stronger edge. You can the see the delineation of things more clearly since you have what it is not sitting right by it. (Sorry if this doesn't make sense. It is the slightly crazed ramblings of a Peace Corps Trainee). Despite all the frantic craziness and rigid schedules, one thing remains constant; This is Africa. This is now home, at least for the next two years. (YIKES)

Abazungu (adj., noun.) Foreigner, non-black skinned people, one with money, the favored name for all Peace Corps Trainees.

It's impossible to walk down the streets of Nyanza (well actually any road in Rwanda) without hearing this word. Whether it is yelled by local schoolchildren who mysteriously don't ever have school, or whispered under the breath of older folk who want to appear non-chalant while informing everyone around them that indeed, there is a foreigner in their midst. It's not like we blend in either, especially in Nyanza where there is one main road leading through town. It is difficult to understand the necessity to draw further attention to the fact that we are blindingly white. Amazingly, it isn't limited to the children who decide we need extra notice. Men, women, young and old are all astounded that we are different, despite the fact that we have now been here two weeks and trips into town are a daily occurrence. It truly is amazing how entertaining a person can be just by being themselves. This becomes even more obvious when you are the spectacle to your host family. Mine has been fantastic thus far however I still considered the novelty. The children love the idea that they might know more than the mazungu, especially in Kinyarwanda. Today was a lesson on body parts, including eye (amaso), teeth (amenyo), nose (izuru), and fingers (itoki). The one day I get to free my brain from the cramming and stress of learning this new language, I end up sitting with my resource mom repeating my numbers 1-20 again and again, with a little help from the kids, Kariza and Loick. (They were also an invaluable resource when Agathe decided to quiz me on the body parts I had just learned, frantically pointing to their arm, hair, or whatnot to help me out). I wonder when this amazement will wear out, if ever. It probably doesn't help that we are perpetually enforce the stereotype of "American." Butare yesterday was a highly anticipated event as it meant we could go to the "mazungu" store which held such treasures as Pringles, one jar of peanut butter, a wide selection of second-hand candy and chocolate, and even a cheeseburger at the cafe. I'm pretty sure we basically cleaned them out of every "western" treat. While we are still considered outsiders, we are readily accepted and welcomed in most every situation. This past Monday was International Women's Day. To celebrate we went over to the stadium to observe the festivities. Being good Americans, we were there right on time. Being good Africans, participants didn't show up for another hour. Not to fear however, as we were graciously invited to join the secondary school students in an impromptu dance party in the middle of the field, an invitation which we gladly accepted. Later in the week, we joined Valens and Zilpah (two of our amazing language teachers) who had decided to go play some volleyball at the courts at the school. Again, being good Africans, all the students were still there after school, playing and generally just hanging out. We were able to create quite a stir among the students, including the volleyball team that happened to be practicing then. Not to ruin their practice, we sat dutifully by the side but were quickly pulled into a "wazungu" against the students volleyball game.

While some days being a mazungu grates on one's nerves, it is typically worth it to see the joy on the faces of the smaller children as they clamor to touch and hold your hand. I have definitely walked around the market with two or three little ones on each hand. I feel somewhat like a Mama duck, with my little following, or a Mama inkoko (chicken). Now I just need to work on saying, "my name is not mazungu, it's Kerry! That might not catch on for a while yet. Until then, I will be one of the 36 abazungus wandering the streets of our new home, Nyanza.

God Bless the rains down in Africa. Oh what a sound! Rwanda has two rainy seasons followed by two dry seasons in a year. The long rains last from March to May, and the short rains come around October to December. Thankfully, we are are just about the beginning of Itumba, the long rainy season. We've had a few tempters so far, but nothing substantial to warrant the official start of the season. I've always attributed it to my growing up in a desert, but rain, especially when falling on a tin roof (and no this actually is not just a cliche), is still one of the most beautiful sounds I know. It starts with the anticipation. The big, fluffy white clouds begin traveling across the sky, playing peek-a-boo with the sun. One moment the sky will be a stark bright blue, and the next moment, you look up and see only the white of the clouds, stretching the whole horizon. If you pay attention, you can almost pick out the exact moment when they start gathering together and drooping heavy with rain. Off in the distance you watch the color take on a a pale gray, darkening with every passing second. The gradation is so subtle that is hardly seems to be changing at all, but again, you look away for a second only to look back and find those seemingly friendly clouds are now menacing and angry. Even the air changes, form the free-flowing, light breeze to heavy and thick. You can sense the building pressure. It starts slowly with a few spitting drops, a good warning if you happen to be sitting outside. Then, once it has established it's presence, the downpour lets loose. Being in a building or under a roof is a deafening experience, amplifying the sounds to a dull roar equal to any waterfall. The best seat in the house is being outside, under a porch where you get to watch the flood fall. It's the sort of rain that invites you to come out and dance in. It's the kind of rain that will drench you in a split-second, but still be varied enough to keep you entertained. It pours, hammers, showers, drives itself mercilessly onto the hard cement, and washes everything in sight. It's an energizing fascination. Imagine an American summer storm in August, where the world crashes down, and you have a small idea of what the rains here are like. Whether it's the overused idea of washing the world clean, the novelty and significance the sound of rain brings, or just the plain beauty of watching water pour down, rain never ceases to amaze me, but ask me again after Itumba. I might be singing a different tune.

Early morning behind our school, the fog just beginning to clear out

The view of Kigali from the Peace Corps office. I love the vibrancy of the colors!!!

How do you even start with something that feels like has been continuous for months? It is one of the strangest feelings, to have been such a short time in some place, but feel like it has been ages. Welcome to life in Rwanda. Tonight marks one week since we have been in Africa, and if I hadn't known better, I could've sworn it has been a few months. I can't tell if this is because we have been on the go since we got here or just living a daily life in a completely new place. It's almost comforting to feel like you know the area. Our first few days were spent getting us familiar with Rwanda in Kigali at a mission. We were introduced to Rwandan food (rice, potatoes, beans, and meat), visited a genocide memorial, and were thrown head first into Rwandan culture. We also managed to squeeze a few more vaccinations in there, totaling 4 shots in 2 days. I'm not sure if it was meant to be an introduction to Rwanda, but it worked well. At the end of the week we headed to Nyanza, south of the capital. Describing the landscape to someone that has never been to Africa is like trying to describe colors to someone who is colorblind. They know the general idea of what it should be, but the reality is so much more. Rwanda is so utterly beautiful while at the same time being completely rugged and ramshackle yet peaceful. It's such an amazing contradiction. There is so much poverty, heartbreak, and pain, but it still has this aura about it. Africa is so untamed and wild, it's phenomenal in it's freedom. Rwanda has the topography of northern Idaho, with lots of hills and smaller mountains, but the landscape is all Africa, with the characteristic red soil and greenery everywhere. Nyanza, where we are training, is a good size city of around 300,000 with basically one center market, a street of shops, police office, and school. People are everywhere!!! We are about 5 minutes from the center of town, which makes walking there convenient. The internet cafe has been our local hotspot. The market is an amazing work of genius, creativity, and mayhem. It sells everyone from clothes and shoes, to vegetables, to mattresses. It truly is a catch-all, traditional African market. Thus far I've only ventured in a couple times, but managed to come out unscathed, and was even able to converse enough to buy mangoes (Mwembe). Our days consist of pounding our brains full of Kinyarwanda for 4 hours a day, followed by medical, tech training, cultural education, or safety and security. I'm in awe of what we are doing as it seems like we are studying non-stop. Thus far a few things we have been taught to say are, Nitwa Kerry. Ndi umunyamerika-kazi, ndi umuganga, na ndi umusityagyeri wa Peace Corps. Ntuye y' Dubai na mfite icupa dy'amazi. (My name is Kerry. I'm an American, I'm a nurse, and I'm a trainee with Peace Corps. I'm from Dubai and I have a bottle of water.) While the language learning makes you want to tear your hair out, the language coordinators are fantastic and always willing to "correct" our pronounciation. We have a total of 12 so we are rotating between two a day. They are all smiles. There is so much that has happened it is nearly impossible to break it down into individual days or events. We've been given host families in order to integrate into the community. My host parents are Pascal and Agathe, though I've only met Agathe so far. Thankfully she speaks English well since she is a primary school teacher, which also means she is able to teach me basic Kinyarwanda! Everyone is so enthusiastic, they love having us around and talking with us! Most of our days have been spent wandering around the main center, studying like mad, and catching whatever moment of peace we can. We are split into groups of 8-10 per house, with 4 to a room, and only 2 bathrooms! (8 girls and 2 bathrooms!!!) We also have two of the language teachers living with us. My house is called Kitchen house, because, well the kitchen is literally in our backyard. We have electricity surprisingly, but no running water; so flushing the toilet consists of pouring bucket water into the bowl. Fun times! Bucket baths are the norm, although everyone on the staff is fascinated with my solar shower, which apart from washing hair, amounts to the same as a bucket bath since the only place to hang it are the waist high faucets. I haven't been able to discern if they are just appeasing me by saying it's good, or if they really think it's a cool thing. Too bad they would never tell me even if they did think it was ridiculous. There are still a million and one things that I could spend my time writing about, but I fear that unless you are experiencing it, it's difficult to grasp the excitement of every detail, thus I will spare you. (Unless there are requests for me. :-)) As my training director Mup says, it's Africa!

Address

Kerry Horton, Peace Corps Trainee

US Peace Corps

BP 5657

Kigali, Rwanda