A little breathing room please

"Don't crush me." This is literally one of the lines we learned during IST. It might sound like a silly little joke someone might utter if their big brother happened to be sitting on them or you try to get a taxi to hold 4 in the back. It's hard to realize how relevant it is in daily Rwandan life. In America there is the idea of a personal bubble. Some are larger than others as people's comfort levels differ, but there is always that minimal level that most everyone knows not to cross. There is just an unspoken rule that people want a little distance between each other. Even the most friendly person knows where to stop. This is definitely not a universal human quality. Rwandans have perfected the art of making an American feel incredibly uncomfortable by invading their personal space. In fact I believe there is no description of this idea in kinyarwanda. Standing in a line, it wouldn't be unusual to feel whatever the person behind you was holding directly in your back. Having someone tell you something when there is other noise involves a level of intimacy I feel would awkward with my own parents. It is understandable when personal space disappears on a mutatu since there is no feasible way to have a personal bubble there. Just imagine a mini-van holding 21 people and you get the general picture as to what a mutatu is. So, it makes sense people get close in that situation but that closeness is not limited to the bus. It's like there is no recognition of available space. During our morning meeting we sit on benches, and there will be an entire open bench but someone will insist on scooting others over on an already crowded bench. Or if they decide to sit on the partly empty bench, they will take up the seat squished up against the one other person sitting there. I am trying to get over my discomfort at being squashed next to others but Rwandans seem to take it to such an extreme that it's difficult to just embrace it. Oh well, I guess we are becoming one big happy family!