How do you entertain 40 stressed, slightly crazy, energetic Peace Corps Rwanda volunteers? You hold a kickball tournament of course. July 23-25 saw the first of hopefully many more annual kickball tournaments in the awesome town of Nyamasheke. The Kibuye crowd, 15 in total, set off from Karongi district, with no clear idea of where we are going or how long it would take to get there, but naively thankful to be in our own mutato, unaware that the road we were to travel on negated the advantage of our afforded personal space. We stumbled, stiff and a new shade of dusty brown, out of the mutato in Nyamasheke ready and raring to go. Slowly, the other eager participants arrived, settled in, and generally caused mayhem on the town by being American. Great food, which accompanies all American gatherings was accompanied with a bonfire, obnoxious over-exuberant singing, and dance parties (Thanks Wheez!)
The next morning dawned cool and clear, the gods' welcoming sign that we were right in our plans for bouncing rubber ball madness. The bases (or empty sack bags) were set, teams decided, Karindy and Kivu doing their best to chase off the gathering Rwandan crowds, and all was ready. From the get-go, it was clear to see that Flying Monkeys really couldn't hold their own, as Undetermined dominated easily. It was then the Mad Mazungus turn to challenge Undetermined, much to the same effect and the previous game. The atmosphere was deadly serious as we were all fighting for the calabash "Kickball Cup." The Mad Mazungus and Flying Monkeys took their turn on the pitch together but were unfortunately thwarted when the local football team decided they needed to practice on our 1/4 of the pitch. The players retired to a slightly disappointing foreshortened tournament but rebounded quickly with the appearance of mafae and dip dips. Another night of merriment, peace corps style ensued and everyone was guaranteed an entertaining time.
The next morning, after a typical breakfast of bread and imineke and much confusion over our mode of transportation, we managed to Rwandan style 20 people into a mutato that barely comfortably fits 12. Rwanda roads, aka blasted rock beds covered with a powder fine layer of camel brown dust, combined with the limited supply of blood moving to legs, and the surprisingly unfulfilling snacks of Family biscuits, peanuts, and iminekes, made for a typically and perfectly African bus rid
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