A time for celebration

This weekend, I was invited to a friend's town to spend some time before she leaves to go back to America. She is a teacher and the supervisor of an English club so in order to thank her for all her time, a party was thrown. Rwandan parties are not what expect with food and drinks available, milling guests, and maybe a couple of toasts. Everything is planned, everything is run by the schedule. For such an informal event, there was a great deal of formality. The party started innocently enough with a few speeches, a song, poems, and such. The DJ was getting a little excited and decided there was to be no silent moments, so whenever a speaker had finished, or even at a long pause, there would be a burst of "Shorty is a melody in my head" or something similar. Then comes a performance by a young man performing a song. The rain is starting to sprinkle on the tin roof as he starts singing. Unfortunately the mike gives out so he just starts belting without it. Nature must have a wicked sense of humor because at that moment, the sky opens up and it starts pounding on the metal above us. The louder he sings, the louder the rain gets until he is no longer audible. It is only the deafening roar, like standing next to a jet engine. He is still singing his heart out, kids are covering their ears in pain from the noise of the rain. Needless to say, the song was not heard. Next up was the food. Instead of having a table with the spread or even having people carrying trays, individual bowls were passed out with a samosa and an amandazi each. Everyone needed their own. While the refreshments were being served Megan, Ellie, and I decided to set up Megan's great surprise. Imagine for a moment what your initial thought would be if you saw a small panda hanging from a rope from the rafters, and then were asked to circle around it because we were going to play a game. For someone that has never seen a pinata, I can't even imagine their thoughts when we asked what was inside and then indicated that we are going to hit it to find out. So, we start with the pinata festivities, which everyone is getting a kick out of. It's a bunch of Rwandan 15-25 year olds, blindfolded, swinging at a solid looking panda. One defiant swing sends a shattered piece of the stick into the crowd (luckily no one is hurt), as the head of the panda pops off. Apparently not as sturdy as we thought. We encourage them to continue and finally, the finally blow cracks the panda's glossy shell. There is a split second when the candy hits the ground before it registers and the kids are moving faster than anything I have ever seen. In less than 5 seconds, every scrap is picked clean off the floor. They know not to let a good thing get away. On to the rest of the ceremony. The dishes have been cleared and the kids are seated again, listening intently. During the next speech I look up only to see helpers coming in, carrying around trays of toothbrushes, one for each child. Megan did have a lot she was planning to distribute, though I'm not sure quite as formally. With oral hygiene taken care of, the celebration eventually finishes up and disintegrates into a dance party. Why not, it's a Rwandan party after all.