"Good Mornings" and Not So Good Times

Although It’s only been two weeks since I updated, so much has happened. Many people like to count their blessings. For entertainment purposes, I’ll share with you a list of the minor catastrophes I have survived since arriving in Rwanda three weeks ago…

Since arriving: 1. All of my luggage was lost; 2. The toilet in my room (which was broken before I came) has yet to be fixed, despite my requests for a plumber; 3. Therefore, I must use a toilet without a seat; 4. I got a very nasty case of bed bugs; 5. I found a lizard living in my shower (I named him Leonard the Lizard); 6. My house keys were lost my first day of teaching and all of the locks on my house had to be replaced; 7. I fell and skinned my left knee and leg; 8. I’ve had to repeatedly deal with the unwanted (and occasionally creepy) affections of one of the teachers; 9. I drank the water (enough said); 10. I fell and scraped my right knee and leg; 11. My first time riding a Moto (a motorcycle taxi), my leg brushed past the exhaust pipe and I got a huge burn; 12. Later that day, I was hit in the head with a soccer ball and got my first concussion; 13. That same night I stepped in an ant hill; 14. I found my pet lizard, Leonard, dead in my shower the next morning.

I hope that everyone finds it extremely impressive that I only cried twice throughout all of this (both after the head injury, I might add). But still, God has been blessing me through everything. I keep offering up the little sufferings and praying others receive graces from them. Despite all the little miseries, Rwanda has already impacted me so deeply. 

Chris and Mitchell, the two missionaries my partner and I are replacing, trained us throughout our first week, but left last Monday. As we watched their jeep drive away, a sort of cold panic set in. I think that was the moment when Kyle and I realized that we are actually missionaries in Africa. I believe a phrase along the lines of “Oh shoot” was used. 

Some of my boys. That's my
classroom behind us. 

I began teaching classes that same day. I teach all the computer classes and Kyle is the farmer. It’s a lot of work, but my students are amazing. The kids come from very difficult situations and are among the poorest children in Kigali. Many of them are orphans and some were street children before the priests took them in. The boys range in age from 7 to 23; however most are between 14 and 19. 

Many of the boys lost their families in the genocide. One of my students was just a toddler when he witnessed the murder of his mother, father, two brothers, and three sisters. At the age of 4, he began fending for himself. Sadly, this is a very common story and just a fact of life for many of the boys. 

Probably the most common reason the boys live here is that their fathers were murdered in the genocide but their mothers survived. After the genocide, many of the mothers remarried and their new husbands refused to take in children from a previous marriage, so the kids were left on the streets of Kigali. 

Most of their lives, my boys have been in survival mode. Because of this, there are a lot of behavioral problems and a bit of stealing. On my first day of teaching, I lost my keys after a class. I searched all over our site for hours. When I told the head priest, he had all the locks to my house changed that very hour. It turns out that the kids will sometimes steal keys and then sell them to people looking to break into houses. Ten years ago, an Italian volunteer was murdered by a burglar who had let himself in with a set of stolen keys. It was extremely stressful; however, there was a good ending to the story. A few days later, one of my boys gave me my keys back! After I asked him a few questions, I felt certain that he really did find them. While I now understand how real the possibility of theft is here, that child’s honesty reminded me not to jump to conclusions just because the boys are capable of stealing.

The behavior problems are hard to deal with, but I’m always aware that the kids have really rough lives. One of my students began hysterically crying in class one day. She told me her stomach was hurting. Later, another teacher came into my room to explain more details. This student’s family was killed in the genocide and she began living on the streets as a toddler. She was severely malnourished when she was found. The morning of my class, she left the house in a rush and didn’t eat her breakfast. As she sat in my class, she felt a bit hungry and that triggered some really bad memories. Every time this girl feels the smallest bit of hunger, she is reminded of almost starving, which reminds her that she never was hungry before her family died. Skipping breakfast brings back all the painful memories of losing a loving family in the genocide. 

Where I live

There is so much pain, but the children also keep me constantly laughing. One of my favorite things about Rwanda are the greetings. At all hours, children yell out to me “Good morning Mzungu!” Most kids don’t learn English until they are middle school aged, but the kids love to use the English they know. For most of them, that means one phrase: Good morning. And I hear it A LOT. 

In addition to Mzungu and “Malie Ahleese (Mary Elise),” all my students call me “Teacha.” In Africa, there is no such thing as raising your hand and patiently waiting for a response, so throughout all of my classes, I hear a chorus of “Teacha! Teacha! Teacha! My computer is sick!” (All of the computers are extremely old and break constantly. Since the kid’s English is limited, they always describe the computers as sick). 

As time goes on, the Africa sun has been beating my sunscreen, so I’m hearing the term “Mzungu” from my kids less and less. The other day a little boy came up to me and asked what country I’m from. After I told him “America.” He goes, “Ah? Is not clear because your skin has color.” 

I’ve begun playing music in my classroom whenever I have free time so the kids can come in and listen. I have some popular Rwandan artists downloaded on my school computer, so I’ll play their favorite songs. The other day they begged me to show them some American dance moves. I sort of panicked and couldn’t think of any so I showed them disco moves. They loved disco dancing and now I’m too embarrassed to tell them that those moves aren’t current. I also have shown them the grocery cart, the sprinkler, and the chicken wing (all totally ridiculous moves) and the kids LOVE them. 

My French has been improving exponentially. The other day the Canadian volunteer, Lionel, (who is close to fluent) took me to downtown Kigali and we had a conversation with a Rwandan. After he heard Lionel was from Canada, he was surprised because he thought my French was much better! Lionel was not happy and said the guy just wanted a date. Perhaps, but I prefer to think that my French is superior to Lionel’s. 

I think the hardest thing about being in Rwanda is missing home (and all of you!). As the school year started back up, it was hard knowing I was missing out on seeing my friends and household sisters. I miss my family a ton. Sometimes as I’m going to bed I realize that my friends and family in America are still at work or school and the ocean separating us is only too real. I miss you and you are in my thoughts and prayers every day. 

I also really miss American foods like french fries, enchiladas, lo mien, and spaghetti (joke, obviously). We eat the same exact food every day: rice, beans, potatoes, soup, and eggplant. I told the other volunteers today that I’m sick of it and Lionel said to me, “You miss American food already?! But you just had it three weeks ago!” Yep. He said “just had it.” That was an eye-opener. 

My daily bread

So my life in Rwanda has begun, as complicated and complex as my feelings are. It’s hard for me to understand how I can be so heartbroken and heart-filled, so devastated and ecstatic, so miserable and so joyful, all at once. Yet I know that God is with me gently guiding me through the complexities of my emotions while I serve him. My heart is definitely full. 

No matter what time you read this, I hope you have a “Good Morning” (and a good rest of the day). 

First Post

Hello everyone,

I know many of you have been asking me to start a blog. It's funny. Even though I was a journalism major, I never had the slightest desire to start a blog. I guess that was partly because I didn't have anything too interesting to say and partly because, when you're a journalism major, a blog feels a little like an extra homework assignment. However, now that I am so far away, I wanted to have a site where my friends and family can go to see what I am up to. Also, I want everyone who was generous enough to donate to know what I am doing thanks to their donations. 

I guess I can just start at the beginning. The flights went pretty well. My last American meal was Wendy's from the airport. A toddler screamed off and on throughout our entire flight from D.C. to Ethiopia. Our plane stopped in Rome and then finally landed in Ethiopia. We saw the sun set, rise, and set again all in one airplane. 

We had a long layover in Ethiopia. Kyle and I met a Sudanese woman in the airport and we all ate dinner together. While at our gate, we met two Americans who have been living in Rwanda. They were very nice and we are going to meet up with them for dinner soon.

Our flight was about an hour and a half late, but any time Kyle or I tried to ask one of the flight attendants if our flight was delayed (and for how much longer) they would say "No. Is on time. Not delayed" even though it was already 40 minutes after we were supposed to board. That's Africa time for you!  

From Ethiopia, Kyle and I and most of the other passengers were under the impression that we were going to Rwanda. Not so! We stopped in Uganda where we stayed on the plane but our luggage did not. 

After finally arriving in Rwanda at 2 in the morning, we discovered that no one's luggage was there. All of our bags were taken off in Uganda. We stayed until about 3:15 signing up our names and information so we could get our bags back. We got them back a day later, thankfully. 

Finally, we were taken to Centre des Jeunes where we will be living for the next year of our life. Although extremely modest by American standards, everyone keeps telling me that I got the very best bedroom. I will post pictures soon. There was already a mosquito net in my room (Malaria is a problem in this area). Also, a lizard lives in my shower. I can see clearly how many graces God has given me because we have lizards at my house in Texas and I always flip out if I see one outside. With this little guy, I was able to stay calm, but after repeatedly trying and failing to remove him, I "decided" by default to let him stay. I want to name him but haven't thought too much about names. Let me know any suggestions. 

I began going to classes to meet my students the next day. They all just kept staring at me. In my first class, I experienced the first of what would happen many times throughout my first week. One of the little girls tried to sneakily stroke my leg while I wasn't looking. I could not figure out what she was doing. Finally it dawned on me: I'm white! I am so strange looking to her. She wanted to see what my skin felt like. I asked her if she wanted to touch my skin again and offered my arm. About 10 kids jumped at the opportunity to touch and pinch my arm. The kids always pinch my skin if they can touch it. I think they like to see how it changes colors when pinched or want to test the elasticity? I'm not totally sure why they do that. 

I absolutely love the kids. They are so warm, beautiful, funny, and charming. Yesterday two little boys came over to our back porch and played checkers and Uno with us for a few hours. They cheat worse than I do! Finally one of them took pity on me and showed me how to cheat their way. After that I won two games in a row.

The kids' clothing is very dirty and sometimes falling apart. I took about 2 hours yesterday to sew up the pants of one of the Uno playing boys. His pants were ripped straight down the leg seams. I had to sew up almost the whole length of the leg. He was so excited for his "new" pants. The other boy had all mismatched and missing buttons on his shirt. Many of the kids only have one or two shirts. I had some extra buttons and they were the same as some of the ones he had, so I offered to match all the buttons and he was so excited! 

The animals around our site are pretty interesting. Today a loose cow walked beside me for a while as I walked to teach class. I also saw some animals in the distance and asked one of the missionaries if those were stray dogs. He told me that they weren't dogs, but were stray goats! 

My French skills are actually improving very quickly. It seems that when faced with not talking much or speaking a language I don't know, I do the latter. It helps that Rwandans speak a sort of broken French. I am an expert in not speaking French properly, so that really helps. However, quite often when I am trying to say something, no one has any idea what I'm saying. I'm getting used to the confused facial expressions.

Being a white(ish) woman in Rwanda can cause some interesting situations. Wherever I go, people stop and stare. Every single day at least 30 people cannot stop themselves from yelling out "Mzungu" at me! Mzungu is a kind of a rude, but playful word in Kinyarwandan for "white person." So here is my blog. The country of Rwanda through a Mzungu's eyes.

I will try to update often, but I can't make any guarantees on how often. Please keep me in your prayers.

Mary Help of Christians, Pray for us!