One Last Stop - South Africa

It's embarrassing that it has taken me 3 years to finally pen the layover I had in JoBurg before returning to the US from Rwanda. I guess, in some ways, I had forgotten that it was a task on my to-do list. I think it also took a while for me to revisit my blog from such a painful memory.

So I had a 5-hour layover in JoBurg, where I had to leave the airport terminal and go through customs in order to reclaim my bags and re-check them at the airline's kiosk. I recall being overwhelmed at how big and shiny and fresh the airport looked, as I wandered around with my bags.

A porter came over to me and offered to help me bring over my bags to the kiosk - I gratefully accepted his help. I had mentioned I had a healthy amount of a layover, and that I was not looking forward to waiting in the airport a long time, He insisted that he get one of his friends to drive me around the city in his cab before my flight. I was hesitant, but he was persistent. I wasn't able to voice a decline, which was taken as an acceptance.

Okay, this was a pretty stupid move. I knew it as soon as I hesitated to say, "Absolutely not." I knew the stories about JoBurg's crime and racial divide. I grew up being told to say "NO!" to strangers. But I was feeling really reckless at the time in my life, and I was curious.

After dropping off my bags with the airline again, we went down an escalator towards a pleasant old man waiting around in a knitted sweater. He looked like a black Mister Rogers, if you know what I meant. Friendly - elderly - harmless.

And yet I knew that I shouldn't go with him because of the risks. Instead of saying, "Thanks, but no thanks", I told the porter that neither of them were going to get paid for their services unless I got back to the airport by a very specific time, and I instructed the porter to call us on the hour, every hour, while I was out of the airport. They accepted this. And I followed the old man to his car.

Driving around JoBurg's outskirts, it became very clear to me just how developed South Africa really is...compared to Rwanda, at least. It looked like the industrial MidWest of the US, during autumn (it was autumn, after all). There were houses with big protective walls surrounding them, and strip malls, and traffic jams. I was regretting leaving the airport, and started incessantly asking for the time and reminding the old man when I needed to be back by. He patiently nodded as he continued pointing out interesting cultural and historical places we drove past.

He took me over to Sandton so I could see the Nelson Mandela Square and perhaps enjoy something to drink at one of the outside shops. I could not get past the clean and developed community surrounding me, with people casually shopping in the stores and talking to each other on the phones. I hadn't seen such "normalcy" in months, and got emotional in front of the Mandela statue. People might have thought I was moved by the large statue in front of me...but it was something simpler than that.

Finally, the guy had heard enough of my repeat airport reminders, and packed me back into the car. For a Mister Rogers kind of guy, this guy was cursing in Zulu (his native language) and speeding as quickly as he could while weaving between cars...all to get me back to the airport.

Thankfully I got back to the airport well before my requested time, and both guys got paid, as promised. And my adventure was over.

I shopped and ate solemnly in the massive, wealthy airport.

Rwanda: Final Words

I'll try to keep this brief.

The last week has been a rollercoasters of lows, some not-so-lows, and even lowers. I don't really want to get into the nasty, confusing details, so I won't. Let's just say it has been tumultuous, confusing, and cry-inducing, and I'd rather focus on more pleasant thoughts.

My last days at work were alright. They were steeped in my own emotional turmoil, but I was fortunate to find the love and comfort of my former colleagues, who braved through the storm with me as much as they could.

I bartended at the Dutch Embassy's Residency in Kigali on Queen's Day for a friend's catering company. I came donned in my little bartending outfit, and my students joined me in what was our first and last time working together as a work team. They did pretty well, considering. And the party was good, but I have to admit...the Dutch folks who came were rude and a bit overbearing. And especially when they had thrown back a handful of beers and/or wines and/or whatever. I was shocked by some of their behavior by the end of the night, and we had to really put our foot down and say, "Knock it off!" to them. I felt like riot control on tap - they wouldn't let us pack up after the party ended!

A Push Towards Pleasant

Haters gonna hate.

I got an interesting piece of anonymous hate mail yesterday about my blog. Apparently my admitted whining and moaning about certain things with which I don't get on very well bothered someone immensely, so much in fact that they feared to identify themselves.

Normally, I would defend or apologize...but this is my blog, and I don't have to apologize. This is my space where I can complain and have my opinion, fully acknowledging that it is all exactly that - my opinion. If you don't agree with me, or you can't stand my passing (oftentimes inconsequential) thoughts, then why are you reading the blog, still? If you don't enjoy my stories and sarcasm, I encourage you to stop reading the blog, for both your and my own sakes.

On Corruption and Double Standards

It was bound to happen someday. I tried very hard to avoid writing about it, but I have to. Corruption. It's everywhere. I know, I know, what else is new, Kim? But I don't think I'm talking about the kind of corruption most people think about.

My Ugandan colleague always shouts out, "This is corruption!" Whether it's someone taking an extra chip off of a plate, or it's someone who didn't answer her after she asks them something. It's all very tongue in cheek. As I am.

Anyways, I'm talking about the corruption in the people.

While, yes, there is always corruption on a more institutional level, people in their daily lives exude corruption on a very subliminal level. And it all boils down to one word: Sorry.

Sorry sorry. Oh, sorry.

Why I Don't Want to Be an Aid Worker

I'll stick to this kind of aid, methinks.

I was walking home today from Woodlands, the neighborhood convenient store, thinking about a lot on my mind. The big thing that has been so incredible to realize on this trip, for me, has been the fact that I think I don't actually want to do the thing that I thought I wanted to do in life, anymore.

I don't want to be an aid worker.

I don't know...maybe that will change in time someday. Maybe one day further into life I'll wake up and realize that is actually what would serve my highest good. But for now (and I am pretty sure for a good amount of future) aid work is not on my list of things to do anymore. It's funny, how it was kind of this pie in the sky dream for me for a long time, and I had fantasies of living the life of an aid worker overseas, saving children from burning bushes and wiping the brows of survivors of conflicts, and getting gold-dipped pictures of me in the bush smiling with a sage-like sense of peace and compassion on my face. With adoring locals surrounding me like I'm Jesus giving the Sermon on the Mount. You know the pictures - we've all seen the do-gooder images plastered all over the place.

Kvetching

*Insert blood-curdling scream here*

Okay, there's a problem in the house.

Today was the second day in a row where I was in the shower and halfway through the shower, in mid-frothy sud, the water in the shower stopped coming out. I don't mean drops of water still sputtering out of the spigot - I'm talking no water coming out at all. First the water is there, then it thins out rather dramatically, then....nothing. Had you been there for my mysterious, unfortunate turn of bathing events, you would have heard a colorful array of words and grunts coming from the bathroom. I was pissed.

At first I thought that it was a potential poaching problem. Someone is tapping our water pipes and taking out our hard-earned water reserves!

Then I thought, oh my goddess we're in a drought! That's it! The water is gone! We don't have any more water! I can't live like this! I have to evacuate this place ASAP!

Akagera National Park

I didn't really get to see this area at all. Nope.

My traveling around East Africa has been more difficult than I had expected. I have a few weeks left, but a lot of my travel ideas, like going to Bujumbura in Burundi, have been shelved by either safety precautions, lack of travel buddies, or financial limitations. 

For example, I've been urged to go see the gorillas while I'm here, but it costs a whopping $250 just to enter the park to see the gorillas! And that doesn't include the $120 vehicle you need to hire to get to the park, because regular taxis are not able to enter, either. And it doesn't include food or lodging, either. I am heavily debating it, and while I know it's a great experience, part of me really has to ask myself - am I willing to shell out so much for something I can do in the DRC or Uganda for MUCH cheaper? Rwanda definitely caters to a more lucrative crowd, and discourage backpacker-like tourists (ahem, that's me). And things here are rather inconvenient. I went to the Rwandan Development Board yesterday to try to get a gorilla permit, but they decided that they were not going to be open, despite advertising their hours to all. They didn't apologize or promise a discount - they just looked at me and the other gorilla-hopefuls there with the air of, "Well, that's too bad for you. That's life. Get over it." 

Minor Explorations

A few days ago Denise and I meandered a bit around town. We ended up at this restaurant called Mahalo becuse Denise had before met the woman that owned the place, and wanted to say hi. Strange...even though it's a Hawaiian-named restaurant, it was still all African buffet...

Anyways, we met her, Capi, and had a pleasant time talking with her. She's about our age, and is super sweet, and very gracious. Denise mentioned to her that we planned on visiting an area of town neither of us had yet been - Nyamirambo - and Capi looked at us with a smile, and said, "If you give me 10 minutes I can come with you and give you a tour." Pleasantly surprised, we waited.

Nyungwe Forest

So Denise, Maxine, Ariel and I decided to take a few days to soak up the relaxing quiet in the western region of Rwanda. This area is known for its amazing beauty because it's situated right in the big country rainforest, which hugs the Congolese border. We hopped in the car on Easter Sunday morning, and started our road trip towards the tropical paradise of Nyungwe.

Well, it didn't start off idyllic. The roads going towards Nyungwe are windy roads - very windy. As an unfortunate soul with a penchant for motion sickness, I took a pill of my trusty Dramamine, and prayed for the best. But heavens! the windy roads of Rwanda should be infamous across the world. You curve and turn and wind around the ups and downs of the tightly-packed mountains and hills in the country, and I swear anyone with a digestive tract would get sick without medical assistance. We watched buses go by us, speeding and careening through the snakelike roads, and people hung out of the buses to vomit all over the place. The buses, the further we were from Kigali, were covered in greens and oranges of bile that left the body prematurely.

Closing In on Memorial Week

Cow dung as art. No, really.

This week was a slow week at school. It was the week before Genocide Memorial Week, and school morale was pretty low as a result. The day before break began (which is today, also known as Good Friday), students were already having upset moments and getting a bit teary-eyed during class.

So I kept it easy this week, and gave them a lot of down time to do whatever they needed to do before holiday. Like, say, for example, my final project that was due two days ago.....

But what do you say to your students, who have to endure a week-long break filled with painful memories and sad meetings, to wish them well? Have a good break? Well, that seemed insensitive and a bit naive. I felt a bit helpless - could I say anything that would be appropriate for this special circumstance? Have a peaceful break?

What do you say?!

Little Observations

I get a ball(oon). I put it here. I feel happy.

You might be thinking that I'm living in my very own private sauna, being in Africa and all. I am not sure if it's just the country I'm in, or if it's the higher altitude, but it's actually not that hot over here. No, summers in NYC are much hotter, I feel. When it rains, I get cold. Granted, there are days where it's just sweltering, but then everyone is sweating and panting - not just me. In fact, it's rather lovely, most often. I don't need a coat, and I'm not crying from dehydration. Mama Bear-style weather. Just right.

And something that needs to be known...Asian people are always easy to find, no matter where you are. Even in Rwanda? Even in Rwanda. There is a healthy amount of Koreans and Japanese because they have a lot of telecom contracts here, and they have their countries' versions of Peace Corps scattered throughout Rwanda. Oh, and there are a ton of Chinese folk. They are doing a lot of construction and extraction work. The way a lot of us non-Chinese expats view it is, they are using Rwanda as a station to connect them to the Congo. Why? For their plethora of natural resources. The DRC has huge conflicts right now, largely because they're so rich in resources. Even Rwanda wants a piece of the action. But the Chinese were the first in line, and they are working hard to get the resources out and into their economy. It's merely an observation, but I am always surprised by what is consistent to where I'm familiar - like Chinatown.

Parties and Customer Service

Denise and I went to a rooftop party Saturday night in town. I was reluctant to go, but she wanted me to come so she could rub in my face a little bit that she won our month-long bet. The bet? That she wouldn't be able to resist dating a single man during the month of March. I was sure she'd lose - but alas! she's got will-power. So she was on the prowl on Saturday, and now I owe her a very nice dinner.

Well, rooftop party is a bit of a misnomer. We were on top of a building, yes...but it was an indoor parking garage. The party attendants looked in dismay up towards the tower next to the parking lot upon arrival. We were told a rooftop party, not a parking lot party. But I guess it was for the best, because the fog was thick and the top of the Kigali City Tower was hidden between misty clouds and hazy lights. Their drinks were expensive and yet cheap, if you know what I mean. But, TIA.

About Safety

So last night I went to go hang out and chat with my friend Jane. She lives in the part of town where all of the government building are, and a lot of the bigger NGOs. We usually just sit in her apartment and have long, deep conversations. It's wonderful.

Yesterday, though, when we were chatting, her eyes shifted towards the windows and noted quizzically that there were sirens in the distance. This is odd, because (as I have mentioned previously), ambulances are few and far between in Rwanda. What was going on? She soon after got a call from her boss that there were two blasts that just happened in two different areas of town. One was the city center, in an area I was going to go to that day but thought against it. The other one was nearby where I work and even closer to how I was going to get home (and always get home) from this area of Kigali.

Conversations with Students

I think The Man is definitely spot on for me - I may be a mild hypochondriac. Now, I know I am under a bit of stress and exhaustion, and I know that those things can take a heavy toll on your body. But one day this week, I had pretty intense back pain. And I was having some difficulty breathing deeply. And my heartbeat was pretty damn fast while staying stationary. And I had a very low grade fever. Of course, I thought either my thyroid was about to fall out, or I had Typhoid Fever. Now I think it might have just been my menses....

This week was a big week for me at school. I have had to make some big decisions this last month, and I had to come to terms that I wouldn't be able to come back to this school next semester. My last day will be at the end of April.

A lot of reasons are going into this decision, and I really am quite happy with my decision. I look forward to my new goals and carving out some pathways towards the dreams that have newly minted themselves into my psyche. It's hard, though, because I do care about my students, even if they can drive me nuts sometimes.

Mount Gahinga

"Off the beaten path" is not at all as fun as it sounds...

On Friday, I discovered that I could not, in fact, extend my stay in the US this coming May. I was going to try to delay my flight back to Rwanda, so I could see my family, The Man, and some friends. The airline agent basically chuckled at me and told me I might as well buy a new round trip ticket, because it would cost roughly the same thing. I nearly lost it. Okay, maybe I actually did lose it.


My grand scheme had been to stay longer in the US and heal a bit from some of the negative occurrences that have happened to me since my stay here. I would come back for a little bit more in Africa, work here and there, travel some, and then return the US in August, for good. Now, my grand plan was turned down outright. I don't know if I can last here without a longer reprieve at home. It's been really hard, as I might have illustrated. It almost felt like condemnation, to a lesser extent. Do I have to stay here that long? Of course I know I don't absolutely have to, but I don't want to feel like a quitter, either. I'm now trying reflect on myself and to figure out how to make some lemonade out of these lemons.

Stories of Sillines

How my stomach feels on glulten, only more violent...

Last night I went to tutor some Asian girls in English. We arranged to meet at the UTC building in town, and sit at the Bourbon Coffee that is considered a popular hotspot for expats and well-off locals alike. I opted to get my favorite side dish, meatballs with salad, because I had never had problems with that dish (in a digestive way), and it is so affordable - for about $5 for a big plate, I don't feel like I can do much wrong there. And so I munched on some french fries (a.k.a. chips) while I explained words like "fascinating" and "silly" to the women.

Oh, how wrong I was to eat that. About an hour and a half into my tutoring session, I felt the volcanic lava piercing my inner organs and creating some staged revolt in my mid-left abdomen. It was not like that feeling I get after I eat gluten - the feeling where I feel like I've located a missing Amazonian tribe, and they are welcoming the new intruders with spears - but really more like there were little pistols going off (PEW PEW!) in my stomach, ricocheting bullets off of my intestinal walls. I shifted uneasily for about 15 minutes, until I made a run for it to the toilet in the shopping center. I had to do this another 2 or 3 times while I tutored, and my students began to wonder with me if it was that my food was toxic, and maybe I was experiencing food poisoning. I'm still not sure, but let's just say what happens in the toilet, stays in the toilet. I'm not going to talk about it.

Not Much

Hey.

Hey.

What's up?

Nothin' much. You?

Same.

And that is my story for the moment. Not many stories to mention. Teach some. Eat some. Sleep some. Have a few glasses of wine, responsibly. Missing my little island between the Atlantic and New Jersey, is all.

St. Patty's Day Dinner Shindigs

And she doth bringeth the drink of glory to the people, and it was good!

Saturday evening, Denise and I decided to invite friends and colleagues to our house to have a St. Patrick's Day Dinner Party. A good number of people RSVP'ed, and we planned for a week or two just what we'd have and do for these few hours of Saturday to celebrate the patron saint of Ireland.

So Saturday morning came, and we went off to the market and bargained our way to two heavy bags of produce to whip together in a few hours. I meandered (a bit lost) in the Kimironko Market, while Denise talked to her "brothers" and "sisters" about the good prices they could offer her. We scurried home and the cooking began. Well, really, Denise began. She's a wizard in the kitchen (as a culinary arts degree-holder should be). She just put in her earphones, and hummed along to the invisible music while grooving and doing magical things to the food we just purchased. And quickly.

More Life Lessons

I am still learning a lot about myself as I continue to journey forth on my adventure here in Rwanda. I'm learning so much about what I can tolerate, and more importantly, what I cannot tolerate.

I'm often surprised by my boundaries and what I find unacceptable for my life. I've always thought of myself as the person who is totally able and willing to "rough it" - to live the life of abject poverty happily, as long as I have myself. I always thought I'd be able to brush off the cultural and economic difference coming to Africa, and that I'd be able to easily assimilate into the areas I travel. I thought I would be able to fall in love with every place, and all of this massive continent.

But I have found out that I was wrong, to date.

Racondo, aka Lost in Translation (Literally)

Our house guard's name is Racondo. Don't ask me if that's the official spelling - it's phoenetic. He speaks Kinyarwandan and a smattering of French and English words, which can be helpful somedays because, well, none of us in the house speak a drop of Kinyarwandan.

Racondo is a super sweet guy, though. You can just tell. When Denise and I were checking out the house before we moved in, I caught him picking dandylions from the backyard and twirling them around. Now, he's just very nice, rather quiet, and basically our live-in helper. Though it's a bit peculiar to know the guard who protects your stuff sleeps in the back sometimes at night, and sometimes in the day, and his radio is blasting at all times, so you know when he's awake. He sings really high, so he kind of sounds like a male soprano, or Christoph Willem.

Discovering My Comfort Zone

There have been jarring instances when I walk around town that make me reflect on myself and how the world works for me, a bit.

The other day Denise and I were walking home...and by walking home here, I mean we were hiking up a few hills. It takes about an hour to walk home because of the large, sloping hills. Sweat pours down Denise's face in the beating sun, and we both pant up the constant inclines. It's a nice little workout, I'll admit.

Anyways, we were hiking home, and man approached us on the road. Normally, people here just gape at me, smile, perhaps wave, exchange a mwiriwe (hello), and then leave us alone. This man, started approaching us and gibbering off to us about something. He seemed a bit off in the head, but I couldn't put my finger on why. He looked at me adamantly, as Denise stepped to the side, and I said to him, "I don't speak Kinyarwandan!"

Sunburned and Baffled

People here love country music. It surprised me quite a lot, waking up to the sounds of old-time country music echoing off of the courtyard into my bedroom on Sunday. I remembered, when I heard it so clearly with its twang and "dang da-da-dang dang" guitar, that a few of my students have mentioned to me their love of country, specifically greats like Dolly Parton, Don Williams (who?!), and Patsy Cline, to name a few. I find it so perplexing that, of all music genres in the world from which to choose, they pick old-time country music to relish. And apparently, I've been told by a colleague, it's considered a high-class thing, to listen to country music. Talk about a different perspective on things!

A Wedding...?

Before I get to the story, I just have to say that I'm a bit perplexed at the absences of a few of my students. One of my students has Typhoid Fever (I saw her pass out), and another one was in a moto accident and her teeth were cut. I don't feel like these kind of occurrences happen every day in the US with classes. But here, it's happened.

I am so, so glad I have the Typhoid vaccine. I thought it was an obsolete thing to take, but now I find out, actually, it's very real. And I don't want to mess with that stuff. She looked absolutely wretched.


Denise and I were invited to a stranger's wedding a few weeks ago. We didn't want to go, but we said okay anyways. I was fully aware I would being the only white person there, so I was reluctant to go in the first place.
 

GRE, Hills, and Women

So I have been working this week.

I started an evening job teaching a GRE review to some professionals who want to get a graduate degree somewhere. The classes in the evening, compared to my classes in the daytime, are like night and day! My GRE class has professional adults with office jobs and bachelors degrees. And they speak English! I mean, really speak English. They understand me, and I barely have to explain myself at all! And it's a room with less than ten people (we had six on Tuesday), which means I can preserve my energy more and focus more on the students. We joked a bit, and one of them even drove a few of us home! It's nice to have professional students...

Weekend in Gisenyi

Denise and I took a random bus last Saturday afternoon. I think it had become over 2 months of being in the same place that got us. The feeling of being in a cage, or perhaps even in a bubble, took us Saturday to the bus park in Nyabogogo for a weekend respite somewhere out of town. Anywhere out of town. That would cost $5, that is.


But since our friend Ariel was going to be in Gisenyi, we decided that, indeed - Gisenyi it was. The town on the big Lake Kivu that borders the DRC, that is. So I took my well-needed Dramomine, and we waited on the bus until it finally trucked up and down and along the hills of Rwanda towards the Congolese border. 

March for Me

The last few days have been less than stellar. I've been pretty sick and weepy, for starters. Our students were all sick pre and during midterms, and apparently covering your mouth when you cough is not standard etiquette here. What does that mean? Well, it means that they cough on your while you walk around the classroom, and three days later, you're sniffly and congested and coughing. It's not fun. And especially during midterms, when you're grading under a tight deadline and administering over hundreds of individual exams, it breeds the perfect cocktail to make you an emotional wreck.

Hi, nice to meet you. I'm an emotional wreck. Have we met before?

Midterms Week

On Sunday I totally rocked.

I woke up, chatted with The Man for a nice while, practiced some yoga, baked some bread, read some, and wrote some of my plans.

The Man and I have been talking about the future. Who knows what's going to happen in the future?! I know, I know...it's silly to think we can plan it all. But regardless, we are planning. I am excited with the glorious future I could have with him. It could be very difficult, but we're talking about ideas, plans, travels, and all kinds of wonderful thoughts.

Umuganda Day

So yesterday I woke up with my phone not working and my modem turned off completely.

Imagine my panic when, at 6:45am on a Saturday, I find myself completely incapable of contacting the outside world. No Skype chat with The Man to jumpstart my day. No phone calls just in case I need to. No nothing. My roommates were still asleep (OF COURSE! Because who else would be dense enough to get up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday?!), and none of them heard my desperate mewing at their closed doors, hoping to find a functioning phone and/or working modem stick.

I wept quietly in my room for a while, until I finally resolved to nap for a few more hours, and then head to the Tigo store in a few hours when it opened.

When I went to the Tigo store, everything worked perfectly fine. Was I crazy?! How did these things work now? I SWEAR they weren't working a few hours ago!!

A Week of Mini-Urban Adventures

This week I've been preparing for midterms, so I have been running pretty ragged to make sure I get everything done and squared away in order to have a smooth next week. Let's recap, though, since last Sunday!

Sunday started off gloriously with napping and snuggling with Edgar. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Edgar, he is my wonderful, kind, and very soft stuffed bunny rabbit. I bought him for myself for Christmas, and I am so glad I did. He feels just like a chinchilla (oh, how I love my soft things), and he keeps me company at night. I might feel like a child a little bit, sleeping with a stuffed animal and all, but the comforts of having something to hold while in bed in a foreign country has really been comforting. Say what you will - I am not ashamed!

Rains Down in Africa

Durban, South Africa - a place to dream about?

I so am enjoying these relaxing weekends where I lay around, read a bit, write a bit, and chat with The Man and my family and friends. There really is nothing like a weekend where you can sleep in, lounge about, nap a bit, watch a little bit of the BBC, and nap some more, to make you feel more charged to the upcoming week.

Sadly, we were supposed to go to Musanze this weekend with a hotel near school, however last minute they had to postpone the trip until next week, if at all. I was so looking forward to getting out and seeing what there is to see in this tropical area. But alas, the Universe has other plans for me in that regard, I guess. I was going to try to book a quick day trip to Akagera National Park (which is essentially Rwanda's side of the Serengeti), but it was just too jumbled up and last minute. So I will begin my plans today, methinks. It's time to go out and see this brave new world.

But for now, I will write, and read, and write some more. And maybe nap later.

Valentine Soba

So I've a new laptop! Well, sort of. One of the newer friends I made here in Kigali (she's the one from Singapore) is moving on Saturday, and she had an old laptop lying around. She let me pay about $100 for the laptop, and I am so grateful for it. Sure, it's slow, but with The Man on email and Skype, he's helping me pare out some programs and defrag the thing so I have more space and speed. I'm hopeful. Oh, and did I mention that on the keys are Thai characters? Wonderful!

Why is it that as soon as I make friends I like here, they are all halfway out the door from Rwanda? It seems common right now that I meet expats I like and they all say "Oh, but I've only a month left here." It's saddening, and a bit frustrating, I'll admit.

Bits and Bobs from the Weekend

So let's see...another few days without writing. And a few things happening. I think bullets are easiest, but I'll try to aim for brief paragraphs. Don't consider it a "flowing" blog - it's really more of a splatter of thoughts here and there and everywhere.

We fired the maid. Already. Two weeks in and she's gone. But we have a new one, methinks, coming here tomorrow. Long story short, but the cleaning lady (aka maid) didn't actually clean. We don't know what she was doing, really. Well, she did wash our clothes. But everything else was for the dogs. And then she burned Denise's brand new dress with an iron, and that was that.

On Liking My Students

I, for the most part, love my students. They may have a hard time sometime, and sometimes they are completely ridiculous and disobedient and I want to scream at the top of my lungs...but for the most part, I really like them.

Yesterday I had a meeting at a big higher institute here with the Vice Rector of Academics, so I could talk about IT (partly for me and my class, partly for The Man). I had to go just after classes ended, so I was leaving around the time the students were scattering out. As I was walking out to the road, I hear my name being shouted behind me. One of my students, Queen, was running up behind me. "I want to walk with you, Ms. Kim!" So we walked and talked. Small talk, mostly, but it was nice.

As we were walking, we were coming to a treacherous area on the road - the dirt road slopes dramatically and is all sandy and slippery. Normally I'm in my hiking boots, so I don't mind, but today I was looking nice in my work slippers. I had a feeling of dread as we walked towards the slope, and I start to whimper.

Cute Things & Travel

Well, after a few days of ready to blow my cork and swearing under my breath, I want to, again, approach my blog in a positive manner. It can be extremely difficult to feel positive when I feel like I'm running through tar uphill. Sometimes right now I just feel like the forces that be are more or less out against me. Should I even be here?? There are some days lately I just want to quit it all and get into a bed and not be bothered for a week or so, then get on a plane to see The Man. And that's that.

Anyways! So I am going to make a great effort to bring myself back to things I enjoy. Like puppies, and baby pandas...

There are a few cute things here in Rwanda that I've been enjoying recently. I hope you enjoy it, too:

• The goats! There are little goats that graze near the school on the way home. And their tails stick up! UP! Like little antennae. Just happily eating goats with tails all straight and narrow.
• Babies. The babies here are absolutely adorable. Not only because they are wrapped up on their moms, as I have already discussed, but because they just are cute! There was this little baby boy with an adorable face a few days ago. He was learning how to talk, I think. I found him on a couch in a hotel just wobbling around with his legs splayed out. And I started to play with him. "Da da da da!" we would say to each other. I'd stomp my feet and he'd kick his legs on the couch, laughing. We clapped and had the simplest, most fun ever.
• The cars here. I know, I know...how on Earth? Well, the only thing I can describe for the imagery is a little 12-passenger van hobbling up one of the many hills here, with a tilt. It's just cute! Little vans with a bit of a tilted manner is just like watching a little car tutting around with a little song in the background.
• I've already said it, but...the birds.

I really need to get out of the city for a weekend, or a day, or a week, or whatever. I want to revive my humanity and see the beauty that is Africa. The stuff that people go gaga about and take millions of pictures about to show their families in frames at home. The red-dipped sunsets and the electric green jungles. Those things, I want to see. I need to see. I crave seeing.

Places I'm considering to see include:

• Bujembura, Burundi
• The Serengeti in Tanzania
• Uganda
• The Elephant Orphanage in Nairobi, Kenya
• Goma (in a country I won't currently name) & Gisenyi (and Lake Kivu)
• Butare
• Bugesere
• Musanze
• Gorilla Trekking and Volcano-ville in the North of Rwanda - Virunga?

Of course, this isn't an exclusive list. If there are other places that I end up going outside of Kigali, I am extremely open to seeing them. I want to share a lot of these with The Man, but it's a matter of time and logistics. I have to make sure that I want to be here more than a year or so before I bring The Man to be involved in anything. If I don't want to be here more than that, then I'll happily go home in a while after I'm done here.

About Mayonnaise

I feel that this deserves a special recognition on my blog. I know I've mentioned it before, but I don't really feel like I touched on just how prevalent this subject is to the very core of what seems to be the nutritional values of this culture.

In the US, I feel that the staple food for people depends on where you from. For my family, it was butter. For me, it's olive oil. For a lot of people, maybe it's ketchup.

Here in Rwanda, it's mayonnaise. Mayonnaise everything.

Mayonnaise here is the key ingredient in what seems like a very large amount of meals provided here. You put mayonnaise on your french fries (aka chips). You put mayonnaise on your sandwiches. In your salads. On pasta. You name the dish, I'm sure people here have managed to put mayonnaise on it somehow.

And the sad thing is....it's so tasty! Sandwiches are juicy with mayonnaise. Salads have the fattening desire that satisfies your palate.

Mayonnaise comes here in large containers. And low fat mayonnaise seems like a downgrade to the real thing.

I don't know if I'm grateful or mournful for this new add-on to my diet...

House Cleaning Bits

So, it's been a while since I last blogged.

What have I been doing??

Meh, stuff.

I know, I know. What?! No fascinating details? Really?

Well, I could give you a list of what I did the last few days. And I shall.

Moving Into Home

A few things have gone on in the last couple of days. I have not had an internet modem to connect me at all, so I've been unable to report on my life.

I was house hopping for a few days. Three days here, three days there. Basically, just looking for a place and trying not to make too much of a burden for anyone. And after about 4 weeks of living out of a suitcase, I can officially tell you that I am looking forward to unpacking somewhere, for once. No more wrinkled clothing. No more lost items in the large caverns of the suitcases. No more wheeling around my crap just for a good night's rest.

Before I get to it, I have to just note how absolutely twitterpated I am by the birds here. I know I've mentioned it before, but the birds here are really truly wonderful. Their songs are so bright and lovely, and I love waking up to their music in the morning. I am also always amazed at the new birds I've seen! A few days ago I saw electric blue birds with yellow chests. And today while walking to the street, I saw a little tiny bird probably no more than 2.5" tall and with a brick red coloring. Teeny tiny!

Ceci N'est Pas Une Pipe

Today during work, my two Ugandan colleagues were upset about a flyer. Irene was upset, specifically, because she just put up these fun flyers about some random event, and someone had just vandalized them.

Who had done it?! No one knew.

The writing said something completely disgraceful for a women's institute: "This is a condom."

How dare they!

Well, Irene and Faith discussed it at length, and finally looked to me for some insight. I looked at the flyer.

And lo! the picture Irene had pasted onto the document, sure enough, was a big, happy, waving condom.



"Well, ladies... that is indeed a condom."


Their faces dropped with a fast wash of horror.


"Oh my god! Is it really?!"


"Absolutely. A big, friendly condom."


Irene groans and runs off to tear down all of the newly-printed flyers. I couldn't help but chuckle a bit. Quite a bit. Apparently, they just had no idea!

Adventures and Magnesium

Well, all I have to say is, adventures abound!

So Denise and I have set on to find a nice, safe place for us to live. The requirements include: a GUARD, tiled floors, hot water, a kitchen with a fridge, a  and affordability. And we went to a place yesterday in a new development (that seems predominantly for Mzungus) called Kagugu. Which, every time I hear it, I think of The Police..."Ka gu gu gu..." But the house. Was. Awesome! And for a decent price. Everything was new, and clean, and beautiful! And SAFE! Key word! Denise is determined to get the place, which means we'll surely get it. It's a little far away from the town, but it's close to the school and a few stores I enjoy to visit. SO! Hopefully that means I'll have a new place to stay by the first of February.

So I've been pretty ill for a few days. I think the stress of being robbed, and all of the things that came before the robbery in the past month, has been a bit too much for my body. I think now my body is finally retaliating with nausea and a sour stomach. And stuff. For me, if I get nauseous at the smell of food, something is definitely wrong. So yesterday in a state of fear (do I have malaria?! or some kind of other terrifying, dangerous parasites?!), I resolved to go to the Belgian Embassy in town after work to seek the advice of their doctor on staff. It was interesting - I tried expressing my ails and pains in the best French I could muster at the moment, and he seemed to automatically dismiss the malaria account. But he did test me for pregnancy. Luckily, that's not an issue at the moment. So he decided that (just as I had thought!) my magnesium levels were depleted. He gave me some magnesium pills. And last night I am happy to report I slept like an absolute rock star.

Robbed Blind

The last few days have been haywire. I'll start with the positive things:

• I am enjoying networking.
• My English student forgot our lessons two days in a row. To be fair, he is leaving on Friday to return to Korea, so he is a bit busy in his head. But the plus! He brought me out to the most amazing Korean BBQ. In Rwanda. It was a beautiful open villa-type restaurant hall with a bunch of bright colors and really tasty food!
• I am finding some great expat friends - Denise and Jane, to name a few. They've been amazing to me while I get myself settled and familiar with the place.
• The hustling for The Man continues, and keeps getting more interesting.
• My students are starting to grow on me. I'm beginning to like them more, and they're beginning to listen more. They may not understand things, but we're getting them. I figure out facilitation would be so much better than teaching - so I am making them create their own math problems and do IT exercises that let them have fun and be creative. It's really fun for me, too! And less stress.

And now onto the negative...

So last night I was robbed while I slept.

My roommates and I went to bed around 10/10:30pm last night. I woke up at 4:45/5am this morning, like usual, to call The Man. I walked into our living room, and my laptop wasn't there. The camera for the laptop was there, but no laptop. I thought, "That's odd, I could have sworn it was there last night............where's my bag?!" So I started hunting around for my stuff. I look at the back door of the house to find it slightly ajar, and it seemed a bit broken. In the dark kitchen is our solar-powered flashlight from the living room, sitting on the kitchen counter....turned on.

I turn to a frantic hunt throughout the house. Where is my wallet? Where is my camera? My Nook? MY STUFF!!!

I slam on Prosper's door and wake him up. My laptop isn't in his room. This is when I start freaking out.

"JESUS CHRIST I WAS ROBBED! SOMEONE CAME IN AND TOOK EVERYTHING!! EVERYTHING!!!! OH MY GOD WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!?!!?"

Both roommates are up now, and confused and worried. They start looking around. I'm screaming. And throwing things. I can't remember if Scovea locked the back door or not last night, and I yell at her. She starts to cry.

I order Prosper to let me use his laptop so I can call my family. They need to freeze my accounts! And I am panicked even more, and slightly hysterical (okay, a lot). I call Denise and beg her to call my family in the US to let them know. Call my Mom! Call my boyfriend! The computer takes a long time to turn on, and while it turns on, my roommates had gone outside to scope out the backyard. The thieves had thrown my pilfered backpack and purse into the dog's area, with all of the zippered pockets searched. They had also thrown my credit cards out into the shed for my housemates to find. I am so glad I have at least those. I might be alright.

The Man and I worked on changing all of my passwords to my accounts, and informing my mom about my bank account and how/when I'd take out money. It was lightning speed, all of this.

So my colleagues run over to my house to figure out what's going on. Denise is trying to understand why someone would go through so meticulously through my stuff, but no one else's.

What did they steal?: Cash in three currencies, insurance cards, license, wallet, laptop, camera, harddrive, eReader, and a fake diamond ring I've been wearing as a fake wedding ring to deter sleezeballs. Oh, and cooking oil from our kitchen pan. But the rest of the stuff that was in my bag were still there. In our backyard.

It seemed too well calculated...they knew exactly what they were going for, it seems, and they didn't just grab and run. And no one woke up! The dog didn't even bark.

So after I sob into my hands for about 45 minutes or so, a colleague came over with his car and drove us to the police station to file a report. Apparently, this normally doesn't work. But the guy has a friend at the top of the Criminal Investigation Unit here in Rwanda, who was able to expedite an investigation.

We found they had crawled over the fence and used a ladder in our backyard to climb back over. I have no idea what him and my roommates discussed, because it was all in Kinyarwandan. But now the police are investigating and considering it a potential "inside job". Now, without a guard or a cleaner, that means they suspect my housemates....which makes me uncomfortable.

So I moved out of the house. I took everything I owned that I still had and packed it up in my bags. And the founder of the school offered to let me stay with them at their mansion while I sort things out and find another place to stay. I've decided to not go back, and to find a place with a guard and lots of security all around. A nicer area, perhaps. That means I'll have to muster the money together somehow, because it's expensive, but I have to. I can't afford to lose my valuables again.

Prosper just texted me: "just talked to our neighbor who is also related to the landlord. she said that even the people who lived here before us had their furniture stolen when they were sleeping. she also said that her house got broken into several times. apparently this area has a long history of theft.  i don't know how this can help the situation but i thought you might want to hear this. it is so sad that your first experiences here are bad and for a person who is new in the area this is so frustrating. we are looking for a new house and will move as soon as possible. we'll keep asking places where second-hand computers are sold maybe from that we can know who stole your stuff. i'm so sorry" I find it interesting, but The Man advises me to not trust many people right now. Because I can't afford to.

I'm borrowing a computer from school and Denise's modem to go online. My family has been calling my phone, and other than that I'm on my own. I'm glad I had bought a few hard copy books the day before, so I have books to read, and I'm blessed my passport is still at immigration. I black listed my Nook, so it's unreadable now. And I plan on going to the Embassy tomorrow.

But I'm exhausted, and today has been trying.

Some Like It Hot

The Man told me that for missionaries, the reason many/most missionaries leave the field is not because of the local population or the country they are in while abroad. No, he told me that the main reason so many missionaries quit helping others is because of other missionaries.

Well, Man, you seem to be right.

Some fellow expatriates (or rather, white folks) are some of the most ostracizing, unwelcoming people I have encountered. I went to Sole Luna last night for Trivia Night - an expat favorite - and I managed to be sitting alone for about 1.5 hours while swarms of expats mingled around me, acting as if I was completely invisible. It wasn't until Denise and a friendly woman from work came in that I ended up feeling warm and accepted by anyone there. The place was packed before they got there! I got there early to nab a table, but it seemed to backfire, as I became the leper in the room.  Well, everyone else in the room suffered; our team won second place for trivia and received free drinks as a result. I helped out a lot. Who would have thought that it would be helpful to know about plate tectonics in Africa? By the way, the only two countries in Africa with active volcanoes and volcanic lakes are the DRC and Ethiopia. And Beyonce has a horse fly named after her. Poor lady.

A Quiet Birthday

Today has been my 26th Birthday. Normally, my birthdays have included lots of loving calls on my phone, a ton of emails, a bundle of Facebook messages, a great dinner with friends, and a few nice presents. I still got my tons of emails and a number of Facebook messages, but other than that, it was nothing like my other birthdays. It was very quiet.

It's hard to be in a foreign country where your family doesn't want to call the complicated phone number and you can't leave on your Skype all the time for fear of getting charged a lot of money by the internet provider. And you don't know many people, and those you know can't make it out probably because of church or some other obligation, so setting up some fun thing (on a Sunday) isn't very feasible.

I woke up late on my birthday with my housemates already at church. So, I decided to do some calisthenics to keep my body's circulation going. And then I did my weekly laundry in the bucket task. And I showered. And I read and wrote emails from abroad. I waited to Denise to call me, and after she was done with some things she told me to join her in town. I went to get lunch with her at a little place that isn't frequented that much by expats called Camillia Cafe, or something. I had a fantastic juice/smoothie and a very good burger for super duper cheep - something like $10 total. In NYC, that would cost closer to $30, I gather. I always have a good time with Denise. She's a nice companion to have in a foreign country. And she can be laid back yet entertaining. Afterwards, we went to Nakumatt and I bought myself a pillow for my birthday and a jar of honey. And some rice cakes and shampoo. The buses are a huge mistake on Sundays - much like the NYC MTA, they are unreliable and change routes on a whim. And so I had an extra 2 hours tacked onto my bus route to town and back.

I had resolved to call The Man when I got home, as my big birthday present, but I had gotten home too late. He had waited for me for a while online, but because of the longer-than-expected errands in town, he had to get offline and do his own errands. I will be going to bed soon so I can wake up for work. It's really sad because I had planned with anticipation that I'd get to talk to him today on Skype, and that'd be my big treat for the day. But I blew it big time, and so now I can't talk to him on Skype at all on my birthday. I'm pretty upset with myself for this.

So, for tonight, I'll read my book and check emails and whatnot before I go to bed. I might make my birthday dinner peanut butter and jelly with an apple right now.

I've resolved to pretend I'm still on NYC time for my birthday, since I was born in NY. That way, when I wake up at 5am tomorrow morning to Skype with The Man, it will still technically be my birthday (at least in the US). I won't feel so bad about ruining my own birthday plans, then. Anything to make it great.

Kindness of Strangers

I am constantly impressed here by the kindness of strangers, or rather, everyone here. While in the US I feel that there's a precious few who are happy to help others even if it means going a bit out of their way...here in Rwanda, the vast majority will do whatever they can to help and please you. I've been told it's a cultural thing - Rwandans are determined to please and always say, "Yes!", even if they are completely clueless...out of respect.

There's always a smile on their face when you ask for help!

Simple Thoughts Before BDay

I had a really, really frustrating (alright, it was bad) day all around today.

So! Let's try for more positiveness! Yeah!

I like that we can walk so much here, partly because everyone takes their time, but also because it's sometimes easier. And nicer. I am a bit concerned about my health and weight here with all the fried foods, but with all the walking I've been doing lately, I think I might just be alright and perhaps even slim down a tiny bit (as long as I supplement it with a few jogs and the jump rope). Today, Denise and I walked throughout a lot of the city on some errands, and it was nice to walk around so much. Dinner was so much more rewarding.

Making it Positive

Today I have opted to not be a downer.

Clearly, I've been a bit of a Negative Nancy lately, and I feel like I've had the right to be. A lot of things have been less than ideal here. I'm still working on complications and issues that stress me out and make me wonder why I'm bothering.

But today I'm working hard at bringing back my positivity, so that perhaps I can not only turn my frown upside down, but I can also make my reality brighten a bit. So, I'm going to put out a list of things that have made me smile.

1) I have 3 more Korean students to help out in English here. I didn't realize that I'd find myself in the midst of Koreans while in Rwanda, but all of my students are currently Korean, and I think it's fascinating. Denise and I met these prospective students (probably our age, if not a tad older) at Bourbon Coffee, and we chatted for a while. We had a fun time talking and learning about each other, and one of the guys offered to sometime have us all over and he'd grill up a huge tilapia for dinner. How awesome is that? Huge success.

Visa Troubles

Well, yesterday I had a nice all-day internal rampage.

I think every immigration office on the entire planet is created and bred to make me question my willingness to go elsewhere. Today on my class break I went to the immigration office to begin my workin visa

application. The nice francophone driver I used yesterday came to the school and drove me to the immigration office, over in Kacyiru. I was thinking I would get through in no time; I had every single piece

of paper that their website stated. Why wouldn't it be a breeze?

Every Day I'm Hustling

MTN Center

Well, I learned a hard lesson last night - never lend out your harddrive to people unless they swear to protect your harddrive to the death. Because, apparently, most people don't understand the fragility of harddrives.

I leant my perfectly working harddrive out to my housemate so that he could download the wonderful amount of movies I had on it. I had actually received most of the movies from my friend Felicity, who wonderfully let me use her harddrive. And I cared for it as you would a religious relic. It was a baby in my hands.

Well, last night, after he returned it to me, it was no longer working. I mean, it turns on, and my computer knows it's there...but the data doesn't show anywhere. I'm pretty devastated about it; there goes all of my entertainment! My music, movies, and books are all gone. Gone! What happened? Well, apparently the harddrive took a tumble from the chair seat to the concrete floor...

Assorted Things

While I went through today, I had a number of thoughts that didn't necessarily go in any particular direction, but I had them and so I will write them down.

1) Buses are the public transporation methods here in Kigali. I'm not used to this - while living in NYC for so long, I am very much a Brooklyn animal used to the convenience and ease of transportation through subway and grids. Here's it's very much windy roads and cars that get you around. So, I try to use buses because they're there and the cheapest method of getting around. But they seem to have some organized chaos to them that everyone else seems to understand but me! They don't necessarily have assigned stopping areas. They don't have reliable times, for reasons I'm not quite sure. And some buses go in different directions than others. But I think everyone here understands the bus system pretty well. I'm hoping that I get the hang of it soon enough, even if it's not conventional logic.

Clubbing in Africa

I forgot to mention last night that yesterday's lunch was brought to you by my financing co-worker, Robert. He invited Denise and me to his house for lunch with his wife and child. Well, alright, Denise invited us, and Robert couldn't say no.

We walked through the quiet streets of Kibagabaga and arrived to a nice little simple house on a bit of a hill. Robert's wife is beautiful and very kind and sweet. Her English wasn't great, so we spoke French occasionally so she could be part of the conversation. The little girl was absolutely adorable. I think she was about one years old, and she really enjoyed jumping around.

The meal was extreme! I thought we'd really just have some rice and beans, a simple lunch. But Robert's wife pulled out all the stops for us - Rice, chips, plantains, boiled meat in a spicy sauce, and cassava leaves. The cassava leaves were kind of stewed like the Indian dish, saag. It was very much like spinach, with a creamier taste to it. The meat was...well, the meat here seems to be mainly liver, which I personally find unappealing. But the sauce was nice! Oh, and Fanta. I didn't realize we'd be eating like kings, and I ate a hearty amount, in part to be polite and in part because I was hungry. But oh man, in hindsight, I stuffed myself silly.

Friday Stress

Today started out very strangely - moreso than usual.

I woke up talking with The Man after some disturbing dream about planes. We chatted about life for a while, and he told me about some things that came up for him recently in his neighborhood. I worry about his neighborhood...

Anyways. I got on a moto to meet up with Denise so we could go to immigration for our visas. The moto was happy to drive me, so I got on. And then he missed the street we needed, and he kept going. Apparently, it's standard custom for motos to bring their passengers to gas stations (called "petrol stations") while they're in transit. And then he stopped for a while to chat with some of his moto friends in Kinyarwandan. I mean, there wasn't much I could do, right? I wasn't near where I needed to be, and he had my life on his moto to run over if I crossed him. Not like that'd really happen. But I like being safe rather than not.

Dream Interpretations

Last night my school had an Advisory Council meeting at one of the nicer hotels in town. Actually, it might be the nicest hotel in town - it has a 5-star rating. It's called Serena Hotel. It's the kind of place where wearing tennis shoes are poo-pooed and everything looks like a nice little resort.

They apparently had just freshly made their potato chips and plaintain chips there, because they tasted freshly made. The hor d'oeuvres were awesome. And the poolside was very, very nice. It was full of white people. which of course is not surprising in the least.

I met a woman there who is Rwandan but lived in LA for a few decades. She only recently moved back to Rwanda, and she had quite a story to tell about it all. I thought she was awesome, and she gave me her card. I mentioned The Man, and she got excited for me and said, "Let's get him something good!" I LIKED her! Yeah, let's!

Talking with Housemates

I really enjoy living with Rwandan folk. Part of me feels like it gives me a better window into the world of Rwandan people. I almost get to be something like an ethnographer, because I'm deeply embedded into the culture. The housing is not something that most expats would probably want to live in because it's not perfect or well lit or anything. We don't have mirrors, for example.

It's also nice because they get good prices on our food at the market. I get Mzungu prices - they get local prices. I went with them both to the market a night ago, and one seemed to have the responsibility of distracting me and keeping me busy while the other one did the bargaining and food shopping. We got out with 2 big bags of fresh produce for about $10. So we eat cheaply, and simply.

About Water

Something really quick about water. Of course I have to write about water.

My students had an in-class assignment where they were supposed to register email accounts and email me one message. Just to let you know, this assignment has yet to go well - it seems that most of my students are completely computer illiterate and many of their English is less than stellar. But for those who have been able to email me, the assignment asked them to write 5 sentences about them, and 2 questions for me. I had a lot of questions that were similar, such as my marital status, how many children/parents I have, what do I feel about Rwanda so far, and (my favorite surprise question), why am I big? Clearly there are some cultural differences here.

Another Food Thought...

I feel totally justified in writing another blog post about food, especially so soon after my run-in with the super duper hot sauce du jour. Why? Because, I feel like I need to redeem the food industry here in Rwanda. And also, some of the food really is good. That should be read, the produce. So, let's ccall this my current ode to the fresh food of Rwanda.

About Food

Just to let you know, for the record, they don't put sauce on their meatballs. Don't worry - I figured that out the hard way for you to know.

Denise and I went to the restaurant next to our school for a snack after work yesterday. I ordered a boiled tomato and meatballs. She ordered chips (aka fries) and a half-cooked sandwich (she didn't want it half-cooked, it just came that way).

The service in Rwanda is to be found wanting quite a bit. It makes French service often feel more like fast food. On average, whenever I've been out to eat anything - no matter how small - it takes about an hour or so to actually get the food. And sometimes that doesn't mean you'll get what you ordered.

Sunburns

So for anyone who is interested, yes the sun is definitely more intense here. It has something to do, I'm sure, with the altitude and the geographic location in reference to the equator.

The sunburn that I received in Nairobi about a week ago is about done peeling. Or at least, I think? I don't have a mirror at the moment, so I think it's peeling. Based on the coarse feeling and the flakey bits coming off, I assume it's better.

My housemate informed me it was, in fact, a 2nd-degree burn.

Note to Kim: Where sunblock!

Something's Missing for Me

I miss The Man a lot today. I miss him every day, really. But today it's heartbreaking.

I miss him more and more every day, actually. I have to tuck it into my pants so it is not part of my classroom mood when I teach. But everything I do happens with the intention of him in my heart. I thought it'd subside a bit. I'm finding it's the exact opposite.

I love that we Skype in the mornings, even if it's just that I get to hear his voice. Though I much prefer video, I will do whatever I can to make due and feel connected with him.

It's spurring me to think even more actively of how to get him to be with me. I mean it. I really feel like this is what I want - The Man. Africa has been a goal - a dream that I've been chasing for a long time. It seems that my life is opening up a new chapter of goals for me, and he's one of them.

Perhaps I'm feeling the beginnings of coming to age. Perhaps these are emotions that I feel because I am merely a human being with the same kinds of mechanisms as all others. Perhaps I am just wanting a family more, now. I do want a family. This trip is proving that to me even more than I had originally thought. Seeing babies and toddlers bring out my genuine smile with no effort. Thinking of cleaning a house and movie night Fridays with other families and him by my side are my new porn. I mean, there are other things I want with him, of course, but I like to keep this blog Rated G/PG...

And more and more do I feel that he is the one with whom I want to share that. He's my man man. I love him, and I love that he's my man.

So on my end, I'll keep up the hustle to see if there are better opportunities over here for him. I think it could be so perfect if it works out. I pray every day that it does.

I know this is all pretty sappy. Like, Nicholas Sparks sappy. But I had to put it out there somewhere. It feels better to write it down like this.

Trivia Night

Sole Luna Restaurant

Today's classes were busy. The computers for the students all need some major repair, which is kind of stressful for me, being the IT teacher. But it must be done! I thought my laptop had bit the dust, and I panicked! Fortunately, it's been working alright since I started to coax it into functionality.

I had my first rain in Kigali. The school rooftops clambered with the rain, and the thunder in the distance echoed throughout the campus.

Just a note about males here: many of them are aggressive. My phone basically blew up today with random strangers that I met or talked to very briefly wanting to bring me out. I am pretty much feeling a big fat "NO!" to any of these invitations, since I'm not wanting anyone else but The Man. But they sure are persistant. I've been given advice to just let them buy me food, but don't give them anything in return - that way we all feel used. I don't know about that... I guess many men here think of Mzungus as temporary mistresses. Well, clearly they've never met me. No, thanks. I'm going to be wearing a "wedding" ring from now on while I'm here.

Washing Day

Today I got to wash my clothing. Something us "first world citizens" take for granted are washing machines - elsewhere, it's your own blood and sweat that get you to look all squeaky clean. I had two buckets - one with some soap mixed in water, and the other with just water. I only had a week's worth of clothing, but it still took an hour or two to rub my clothing together furiously to get them relatively clean. I am still trying to figure out how exactly to maximize the cleanliness of my clothing. Dust is in the air here pretty instensely, especially in the more local Rwandan areas, it seems. Some areas are maintained very well, but other parts are just dirt roads and lots of people. I live in the latter. So my clothing has a lot of dirt in it. Figuring out how to get that stuff out of my clothes while I scrub the pieces of fabric with my fists is going to be a new, exciting challenge for me.

My clothing are now dripping on the clotheslines in the back of the house; I feel like I just passed a rite here, for some quirky reason. Perhaps because I'm showing that living simply and basically can work. Or at least, I'm trying to do that.

People here are extremely resourceful, based on my observations. My US housemate noted to me how the clotheslines in the back were from random things that normally us Americans would take for granted and toss, like twine that was used to wrap large pieces of fabric. Interestingly, while Rwandans are good at re-using, recycling here doesn't really exist at all. And reducing seems to be something you could debate about if it's an issue or not- to me, they either don't have the resources to reduce anymore, or if they do, they don't seem to use a lot of things anyways.

And there are no plastic bags here. If you go to the shop, you either buy a fabric bag to take away your stuff, or they pack it in a paper bag. Often times, you end up paying for any bags you use. I am so glad I thought about that before I left and that I have my handy fabric bag that I haul around with me.

Getting Around Town

African Bagel Company joy

Today I woke up and got on Skype with The Man, and we had a good time. I jump roped while he told me about his evening with some of our friends. I am so happy he was able to enjoy himself! I still miss him a lot.

Today was a good day in general.

One of my housemate's friends drove us to a place called African Bagel Company (ABC). We drove through Kigali to the Kicukiro ward and walked through a gated area a bit off of the main road into what seemed like a little idyllic respite from the busy city life. The open-air house is very cute and clean, with some very pretty bamboo add-ons that serve as awnings. The land was very well manicured and had pretty plants speckled around the area. The store in the house was very sweet and simple, but kind of fun and rather colorful. All white girls smiled back at me while I looked at the freshly-baked doughnuts and bagels. I asked them how long they'd been in Rwanda, and the oldest grinned and said, "Our whole lives!" The owners are originally from two towns over from where I grew up, too! Apparently on Saturdays, this is THE expat hangout in the entire city. So within a few whiles, the garden was full of white folk with cutely-dressed babies and toddlers. And the bagels were, dare I say, better than even perhaps those in NYC! So we had a great time for a few hours enjoying the company of others and relaxing under a bamboo roof with our tasty bagels. The owner invited me to hang out with them more on the weekends. We'll see.

A Thought on Names

I don't know how my students are able to remember their names! They are so incredibly long and complicated. One's surname is Nyirahagenimana. How do you even pronounce that?! And that's not even an exception! Some of them keep going, and I end up saying something ridiculous like, "Manah Manah" OR "Uga-chaka?"! I don't think names will be something I will master here. They are just so strange to me.

Just letting you know for now - I'm on fire with getting next week's classes ready! Well, at least for now. I have 67% of my classes ready to go. The only class not ready yet is Math. And since we just took an exam yesterday, as you know, I had to go through everyone's test and make sure I knew what level people were at. It truly is a mixed bag. Enough students don't understand most math problems that I will be teaching pretty basic stuff, methinks. I just feel bad for the students who aced the test.

If anyone has good ideas or helpful thoughts about that kind of conundrum, I'm all ears.

Muzungu

Today was the first day of classes, and I am out of my head exhausted. Again? Again.

I never really fully grasped the fact that teaching, as The Man says, is truly a performance art. I danced, leapt, and sang through 4 hours of math class, just so that my students would feel excited and interested in what I had to say. That is a long, long time to be energetic and engaging.

The first class was terrified, and you could tell. They were pretty silent. So I went around to see if they'd talk to me about things about themselves for a while. It was difficult - they barely spoke above a whisper, even when standing up. I just kept trying to encourage them, and little by little they came out a little bit. But not a lot. The second class I taught was a lot more excited and open. They still spoke softly, but many of them had some courage. Apparently, a large amount of the second class had an initial year at the school before, so they are more confident and used to the school. I told them who I was and they cheered. That was a boost. Both classes I had to speak super slowely. Suuuppppeeerrrr slooooooooooowllyyyyyyy....with con-so-nan-ts.

Glow Bug

What a difference a 10-hour sleep fest can make! Granted, I am not 100% yet, but I'm a lot closer than yesterday!

I slept pretty well last night. That is to say, I slept pretty well once I put in the ear plugs. The house I am staying in right now is between a few bars, more or less, and those places don't have noise control regulations at night. So, post-plugs, and aside from waking up to use the toilet, I slept well.

Today I went to work for a full day. And oh boy, did I work. From 9am to about 6:30pm, I was running around getting stuff done. Did I mention I have to start class in the morning? We got to move around a lot of furniture. A lot of heavy furniture. Basically, we redesigned and refurnished the entire school. With the summer heat in Rwanda, it was pretty miserable lifting wooden desks and hauling them around the hallways to get the classrooms set up. I got sunburned more. I also had to work last minute on my classes for tomorrow. I had to wait for a while to get to talk with someone about what kind of way I should design the class. They've taught some of the subjects before, and I didn't want to get too obscure in my teaching of math and IT and whatever. So, I was running around frantic at 6pm trying to print out 80 copies of my syllabi and placement exams (all made by yours truly); stapling and collating papers and fixing printers were my chaotic half hour before getting home. I don't like doing things so last minute.

Kigali Day 1: Dazed and Confused

I arrived in Kigali around 2:30am, and my three new housemates came to pick me and my tons of luggage up. It was so nice to have people waiting for me and welcoming me into the new place. I was pretty wiped out, though, so I'm unsure if I said anything that could have been rambling or incriminating.

Just in case you were wondering, at the moment Rwanda smells like fresh dust, newly-picked potatoes, and grass.

I got settled into the house - it's nice. The puppy is really cute and a bit scrawny, which of course means he was even cuter. I have a large learning curve, I discovered, and I didn't get to bed until about 4am, after unpacking a bit and winding down.

Nairobi: AKA, the Longest Layover Ever

I woke up on my 3-chair streched airline bed as we landed in Nairobi. I peered out the window as we taxied and...wait a minute...Africa doesn't have horses, does it? Stripes...is...is that a zebra?!

Yes, zebras apparently speckle the landscape of Nairobi Airport.

I took my time getting through the airport. This leg of the trip has a layover of about 15 hours. !!!. Fortunately, I had contacted the brother of one of my best friends from high school for this long layover. His wife (Aki) and him (Jon) are staying here for a year. And they have been wonderful in agreeing to take me in for the laover and save me the pain of an arduous day sitting in a little airpot.

Days of Travel

So, first thing's first: Newark Airport sucks.

The Man and I left around 3am (without real sleep) to get to the airport for my flight. And we encountered every single drunk/stoned New Jersey resident. That's what I get for leaving New Year's Day in NYC, I guess. But when we got to the AirTrain for EWR, we had to wait roughly 40 minutes for the train to take us to the terminals. I really, really don't like cutting it that close, and it was pretty infuriating. When we finally got to the airport, it seemed as though my flight was the only one leaving. So the massive line of passengers we got behind were all waiting for one of the two check-in stewards to let them/us in. And I think were were a handful of people moving overseas, because they had so many carts of luggage it seemed like a joke. It was not. I was checked-in when the plane began boarding.

That was NOT how I wanted my last few, precious hours with my man to go. I wanted time to hold him, cry a bit, talk to him. But instead, I was annoyed and stressed. When we ran to the check point, I burst into tears. I love him so much, and the thought of not having him near for a while makes me dread this trip a bit. I clung onto him for a moment before being pulled towards the queue. What pain I never understood with someone you want to be with forever! I still pray it won't be as long without him near...I'm determined.

Almost Gone

So. I have about 12 hours before I have to be at the airport. For a long, long trip on to Kigali.

Rwandair has changed the time of my flight from Nairobi to Kigali twice. I now have about an 18-hour layover in Nairobi, and I will arrive in Kigali essentially the same day I have to be at work. There are no other flights to Kigali that day that I can make in a transfer. That's some nice added stress to my life right there. My housemate-to-be in Kigali wrote to me to say, "Wow, you really are experiencing trial by fire!" Indeed.

Thank goodness one of my closest high school friend's oldest brother lives in Nairobi. He has been wonderfully accommodating to my super-duper long layover in Nairobi, and he's offered to let me sleep on their couch for a few hours. And we might go see the elephant orphanage! Which is so incredibly exciting I don't even know what to do with myself. And the napping sounds essential, now that I will basically be visiting Nairobi due to force.