The 25th of September. My birthday. Ugh.
I was happy to have a chill night, Indian cuisine and good friends. It turned out to be much more than I expected, and much more than I thought I wanted. First, my best friend Egide told me numerous times that he couldn't make it - and I was resolved to that fact, since he had made the trip down the last weekend already. As it turns out, my friends were plotting all week right under my oblivious nose on how to surprise me with him. I cried. They also surprised me with cake and too many gifts - all was planned and bought without me noticing anything. Verr sneaky. We ended up going home after supper, having some Primus, and going yet again to Cadillac. It was bliss dancing with my brothers. I could never get sick of it. Bed around 4. So appropriate. As much as I don't like the fuss of birthdays, I am thankful for what my friends did for me - they really made it so special.
So. Turning 22 in Rwanda. How does it feel?
It feels, fictional.
I guess I mean that its just so, weird, that time is passing. That when I go home it won't be exactly as I left it. That I will go home a different age. That time doesn't stand perfectly still.
"And you think, what the hell - life goes on. Maybe there won't be marriage, maybe there won't be sex. But by God, there will be dancing."
Monday, September 27, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
This Is Of Vital Importance.
When I wake up in the morning, I think about one thing.
When I get to work, I think about one thing.
Before going to bed every night, I think about one thing.
Tea Time.
At 9:30 everyday at KHI, Lau and I saunter down to tea. This is the subject of my affection, and consequently the subject of my blog.
By 9:30 I am always hungry (having not eaten yet in the day), and ready for the usual arrangement of food.
At tea, there is the following:
*Tea (bagged or africa)
*Hard boiled eggs
*Chipattis
*Samboussas (samosas)
*Meat balls
*Amandazi (deep fried bread/cake thing)
I generally go for the samboussas, and Lau has recently introduced me to the egg & chipatti combo, which I think will work itself into the rotation. And of course, African Tea every time.
Getting food is an art in and of itself, and can be an ordeal if you are not in the know. Food goes fast, and politeness is not a virtue honored at tea. You get to the front, you start telling Eric what you want to eat whether he is listening to you or not, whether you are next or not, and hold your money out to show you mean business.
Once this is accomplished, the day is automatically a great one. We sit, we sip, we munch, we chat. It's a place where your stresses are left at the door (by that I mean tent flap). Tea is a place where no matter how much work I have to do, when I go to tea, I am on Africa Time (meaning everything slows). Tea is the place to meet different people, learn Kinyarwanda, catch up, and talk about how great Tea is. Because, man is it.
When I get to work, I think about one thing.
Before going to bed every night, I think about one thing.
Tea Time.
At 9:30 everyday at KHI, Lau and I saunter down to tea. This is the subject of my affection, and consequently the subject of my blog.
By 9:30 I am always hungry (having not eaten yet in the day), and ready for the usual arrangement of food.
At tea, there is the following:
*Tea (bagged or africa)
*Hard boiled eggs
*Chipattis
*Samboussas (samosas)
*Meat balls
*Amandazi (deep fried bread/cake thing)
I generally go for the samboussas, and Lau has recently introduced me to the egg & chipatti combo, which I think will work itself into the rotation. And of course, African Tea every time.
Getting food is an art in and of itself, and can be an ordeal if you are not in the know. Food goes fast, and politeness is not a virtue honored at tea. You get to the front, you start telling Eric what you want to eat whether he is listening to you or not, whether you are next or not, and hold your money out to show you mean business.
Once this is accomplished, the day is automatically a great one. We sit, we sip, we munch, we chat. It's a place where your stresses are left at the door (by that I mean tent flap). Tea is a place where no matter how much work I have to do, when I go to tea, I am on Africa Time (meaning everything slows). Tea is the place to meet different people, learn Kinyarwanda, catch up, and talk about how great Tea is. Because, man is it.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
You Light Up A Room, When You Walk In.
The boys.
Elsa’s boys.
My boys.
My brothers.
Just had dinner with Egide, Eric, and Hilaire. Tomorrow Egide will go back to Butare, and Eric will make the grueling 10 hour bus ride back to Kampala. And as for Hilaire, well, he will still be around – thank god. I told Egide and Eric to quit school and move back home so I can see them all the time. I am most selfish when I get to spend time with them, I never want them to leave. There was a moment tonight at supper when I really realized that these boys are home. Not that they make me feel at home, but that I truly am home when I am with them.
The boys (I really should say men, but I just can’t bring myself to do it) are so special. Each one has so many amazing qualities. I could go on forever about them. But, I’ve heard that forever is a pretty long time, so I will give the extremely condensed version. (Heads up: There are some inside jokes in this blog, and I’m very sorry for the exclusiveness, but for the people who know what I’m talking about it is gold.)
Egide is the kindest person you will ever meet, has amazing mannerisms (for those of you who know me well, you know what that means), and always smells what I imagine perfection to smell like (a contender to Johnny Atwin if that gives any indication to some of you). He has dreams that you just can not doubt he will achieve. I can’t wait to see what his life will be like – the house with the view. He is sincere and passionate, two qualities that are – for me – two of the most important. Egide has a spirit in him that inspires me every day. I am so proud to hold his hand and call him my best friend. I think I was spoiled in April, having Egide around all the time. Now that we are living in different places, I am realizing how much Egide was a huge part of my experience here, how much he affected my time here. How he – and all the boys – were a big part of why I fell in love with Rwanda.
Eric. Eric, Eric, Eric. What can’t I say about Eric. Eric is a great man. I always think about how great of a father Eric is going to be. How great a husband he will be. Eric has such an amazing character, as Dad would say he is “a solid guy”. He says what he thinks and means it every time. I appreciate that so much. Eric is an innocent, through and through, a romantic to the core – but a realist at the same time. I’ve never seen that kind of mix before. He is gentle and considerate and insightful. At the very least Eric is way too wise for his age. He has everything going for him and more. I envy all the people that get to see him every day.
Hilaire. Oh. My. God. I don’t even know what to write about Hilaire. I’ve tried to explain what Hilaire is like to people before and I never do him justice. Hilaire is one of the top 5 funniest people I have ever met (and probably in the world), and there is not one cell in his body that tries to be funny. The things he says and the way he says them are just, ridiculous. I am laughing just writing this. In fact, I am going to text him right now (if you’ll please hold on a sec). Ahh, I can’t wait to see what he texts back. This is what I do all day – I bug Hilaire just to see what he is going to say. What would I do without him? I love having him around and even though he lives in the neighborhood next to me I still miss him every day. (PS: His text back was even funnier than I expected). [side note: coincidence that the word “hilarious” seems to have the root word “hilaire”?? Waka waka?]
I know people want to know about what life here in Rwanda is like, and that is why I wrote about the boys. They are a huge part of my life here. Whether I see them every day or not, they are always with me. I know none of my descriptions do any of the boys justice; you could write a book about each of them, but they are so much more than what I can put into words. I’ve heard so many people say that when you leave Rwanda you leave a part of your heart here. Having left, I know that it is true. Having come back, I’m starting to appreciate where I left it. I left it with the people that I love.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Rwanda mon pays, nous sommes ensembles. Rwanda mon paradis.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard music so beautiful.
Sitting in the living room this morning, Jewel is trumped immediately by a Spanish guitar and a voice that holds such wisdom, and such a painful love. I cannot stop listening. I am mesmerized. The world slows, and comes to a halt, to listen to a man’s love song about his country.
My landlord Pascal is an artist. I knew he was a painter, but I never knew this was under the surface. I am sitting outside on our porch - half in sun, half in shade - feeling the wind ripple lazily through the trees, background noises of nearby work being done, and his songs continue. He is singing to the entire neighborhood with his amp. I am willing to bet my life that this is the favorite time of day for a lot of people, when Pascal plays. It has immediately become mine.
There is so much to learn. So much that I am missing. So much that I want to discover. There is also a completeness in not knowing. Like this is how it is supposed to be. I am supposed to sit here and listen to Pascal play his guitar and not know. This is not a world that is mine to understand. The love he shares in his songs are his, and it is enough for me to be apart of that. More than enough.
The thunder is going to start, and the songs will end. Pascal will go inside, and so will I. We will have our separate lives and do our different tasks. But when he plays again, I will listen. And I will be thankful to be able to share these moments with him. I will be thankful to have these moments in life. Because they change you.
Sitting in the living room this morning, Jewel is trumped immediately by a Spanish guitar and a voice that holds such wisdom, and such a painful love. I cannot stop listening. I am mesmerized. The world slows, and comes to a halt, to listen to a man’s love song about his country.
My landlord Pascal is an artist. I knew he was a painter, but I never knew this was under the surface. I am sitting outside on our porch - half in sun, half in shade - feeling the wind ripple lazily through the trees, background noises of nearby work being done, and his songs continue. He is singing to the entire neighborhood with his amp. I am willing to bet my life that this is the favorite time of day for a lot of people, when Pascal plays. It has immediately become mine.
There is so much to learn. So much that I am missing. So much that I want to discover. There is also a completeness in not knowing. Like this is how it is supposed to be. I am supposed to sit here and listen to Pascal play his guitar and not know. This is not a world that is mine to understand. The love he shares in his songs are his, and it is enough for me to be apart of that. More than enough.
The thunder is going to start, and the songs will end. Pascal will go inside, and so will I. We will have our separate lives and do our different tasks. But when he plays again, I will listen. And I will be thankful to be able to share these moments with him. I will be thankful to have these moments in life. Because they change you.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This
Work has started.
This week has been a lot of meetings to finalize exams for November (exam period), lots of discussion about wording and content. My lower back hurts from all of the sitting. Other than exams, Lauren is starting a huge project that just got funding approved to get the BLS (lab) students to do rapid HIV testing in 36 high schools around the country, and I am going to be helping in any way that I can. Then, I have research proposals to mark for tomorrow, and to prepare a course on Dermatology to teach for the next two weeks. After that the students will be doing skills exams (I will be evaluating), and I will be supervising students in clinical around the country. It feels good.
I’ve been learning so much participating in these exam meetings. Decisions have been made by the collective - everyone is consulted in the process, every decision is a group decision mutually agreed upon. This presents obvious challenges, but somehow it seems to work okay, and it’s totally different from my western background. It surprised me to have my opinion valued and effecting change in this process. It also surprised me to be pseudo-bonding with my boss, Constance (from Kenya). Constance is a powerhouse of a woman, is always at work first and always leaves last. She’s strong willed, overworked, and realistic. I am rarely any of these things. Hah.
I walked up the dirt path today from where the moto dropped me off on the main road, and it hit me (like it does so often) that I am in Africa. That I am in Rwanda. That I am a part of this community. This is the life that I have dreamed about for so long. Actually, it is better than the dream. In my dreams, the work I’m doing is never tangible, there is no sweat on my brow, there is no stress. Life here is not like that. Work is stressful, as is life, and I walk around all day with sweat on my brow. It doesn’t even get washed off most nights because we frequently lack water. So there.
What I am trying to say is that there is a different happiness in this stress, in this sweat. No, its not the happiness that I am used to – the barbeque-and-country-music-with-a-beer, but it is a pure type of happiness. It’s the type of happiness where you feel exhausted most of the time, and are constantly fighting an uphill and sometimes losing battle. A happiness where you forget about pleasures like personal space, simple tasks, and whole wheat bread, and instead indulge in the happiness of almost getting hit by cars and not even flinching, embracing squatting more than you ever have before, or having that awkward moment where you go to shake someone’s hand and they are going for the hug so you compromise with a half hug followed by the handhold.
I am exhausted, broke, smelly, and completely content with my place in the world.
This week has been a lot of meetings to finalize exams for November (exam period), lots of discussion about wording and content. My lower back hurts from all of the sitting. Other than exams, Lauren is starting a huge project that just got funding approved to get the BLS (lab) students to do rapid HIV testing in 36 high schools around the country, and I am going to be helping in any way that I can. Then, I have research proposals to mark for tomorrow, and to prepare a course on Dermatology to teach for the next two weeks. After that the students will be doing skills exams (I will be evaluating), and I will be supervising students in clinical around the country. It feels good.
I’ve been learning so much participating in these exam meetings. Decisions have been made by the collective - everyone is consulted in the process, every decision is a group decision mutually agreed upon. This presents obvious challenges, but somehow it seems to work okay, and it’s totally different from my western background. It surprised me to have my opinion valued and effecting change in this process. It also surprised me to be pseudo-bonding with my boss, Constance (from Kenya). Constance is a powerhouse of a woman, is always at work first and always leaves last. She’s strong willed, overworked, and realistic. I am rarely any of these things. Hah.
I walked up the dirt path today from where the moto dropped me off on the main road, and it hit me (like it does so often) that I am in Africa. That I am in Rwanda. That I am a part of this community. This is the life that I have dreamed about for so long. Actually, it is better than the dream. In my dreams, the work I’m doing is never tangible, there is no sweat on my brow, there is no stress. Life here is not like that. Work is stressful, as is life, and I walk around all day with sweat on my brow. It doesn’t even get washed off most nights because we frequently lack water. So there.
What I am trying to say is that there is a different happiness in this stress, in this sweat. No, its not the happiness that I am used to – the barbeque-and-country-music-with-a-beer, but it is a pure type of happiness. It’s the type of happiness where you feel exhausted most of the time, and are constantly fighting an uphill and sometimes losing battle. A happiness where you forget about pleasures like personal space, simple tasks, and whole wheat bread, and instead indulge in the happiness of almost getting hit by cars and not even flinching, embracing squatting more than you ever have before, or having that awkward moment where you go to shake someone’s hand and they are going for the hug so you compromise with a half hug followed by the handhold.
I am exhausted, broke, smelly, and completely content with my place in the world.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
His Excellency President Paul Kagame
Could this be any bigger? Doubtful...very doubtful. Oh PK, you're the man.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Living inside the glow.
I'm unsure of how to begin. It is surreal that I am going to be doing this for the next 6 months (with varying degrees of dedication, of course).
I am siting in my bed at the KHI (Kigali Health Institute) guesthouse right now, hungover, happy, and having just watched one of the first rains of the season, a rain that is highly reminiscent of massive buckets of water being dumped over the entire country. I love these rains.
I find myself constantly in a state of disbelief; it doesn't seem real that I am back here. Or maybe my life in Canada doesn't seem real. I can't really tell.
So, for the more practical details! We were supposed to get in Tuesday at noon, but were delayed in Addis for 4 hours as we watched crew members work on the plane we would eventually board. (anxiety when that plane took off?) When we got into Kigali it was the unpleasant but not all together unexpected hassle of arriving without any of our luggage, which we claimed with huge amounts of enthusiasm on Friday. Hilaire and Egide were waiting (for the extra 4 hours) to greet us at the airport - it was the best welcome I could have asked for.
Anthony took us to KHI after we had a sort-of-good-nights-sleep to meet many many people with names that I can only hope will stick after a few months. We've been living it up large our first week here, eating well and generally relaxing (and/or partying). Cadillac - which was the club of choice of the 8 muzungu (white person) nurses in April, and as Miller light described "where everything from the floor to the drinks glow and the party doesn't stop till 7am" - was a huge success as well as a hit on my system, but a loving hit at that.
We (Anthony - X grad who has worked for the past 5.5 months at KHI in the Biomedical Lab Sciences department, and Lauren - also an X grad who came with me and is taking Anthony's position) went to see our house on Thursday. Anthony was entrusted with the search, and we paid for the first 3 months. 300$/month. It is in a part of the city called Nyakabanda, just on the outskirts of Nyamirambo. These two districts are sort of known as what we would call "sketchy", but in my opinion they are the best places in Kigali. They are grimy, on the poor side, and real. We move in on Wednesday (waiting for it to be furnished). I am so excited to settle in.
I am also very excited to get to Butare... there are lots of people there that I need to see, and I am just craving the bus ride there. It is my favourite part of Rwanda. And I find that since I spent most of my time in April outside of Kigali, I am hyperaware of the way that Kigali is built up to look a certain way for the international eye and for tourists in general. While tourism is becoming a major income for Rwanda (rightly so) and in many ways these changes can be seen as "development", I can't help but think about all the rural families that don't get their struggle recognized because they are not being seen. There is a whole other Rwanda outside of Kigali's walls.
On that note, tomorrow is Kagame's inauguration. National holiday. Hopefully all goes off without a hitch, the police and military presence are certainly prepared for the opposite if it should happen. After this holiday it will officially be my first week of work. I really have no idea what that will entail. For anyone who doesn't know, I am here to teach nursing students, supervise clinical placements, and participate in community outreach programs. When I sit down at a desk Tuesday morning, all I know is that I need to make some goals. We'll see what happens after that. More updates to come! Comment with questions if there is anything you are wondering about or anything you would like to hear more about :)
I am siting in my bed at the KHI (Kigali Health Institute) guesthouse right now, hungover, happy, and having just watched one of the first rains of the season, a rain that is highly reminiscent of massive buckets of water being dumped over the entire country. I love these rains.
I find myself constantly in a state of disbelief; it doesn't seem real that I am back here. Or maybe my life in Canada doesn't seem real. I can't really tell.
So, for the more practical details! We were supposed to get in Tuesday at noon, but were delayed in Addis for 4 hours as we watched crew members work on the plane we would eventually board. (anxiety when that plane took off?) When we got into Kigali it was the unpleasant but not all together unexpected hassle of arriving without any of our luggage, which we claimed with huge amounts of enthusiasm on Friday. Hilaire and Egide were waiting (for the extra 4 hours) to greet us at the airport - it was the best welcome I could have asked for.
Anthony took us to KHI after we had a sort-of-good-nights-sleep to meet many many people with names that I can only hope will stick after a few months. We've been living it up large our first week here, eating well and generally relaxing (and/or partying). Cadillac - which was the club of choice of the 8 muzungu (white person) nurses in April, and as Miller light described "where everything from the floor to the drinks glow and the party doesn't stop till 7am" - was a huge success as well as a hit on my system, but a loving hit at that.
We (Anthony - X grad who has worked for the past 5.5 months at KHI in the Biomedical Lab Sciences department, and Lauren - also an X grad who came with me and is taking Anthony's position) went to see our house on Thursday. Anthony was entrusted with the search, and we paid for the first 3 months. 300$/month. It is in a part of the city called Nyakabanda, just on the outskirts of Nyamirambo. These two districts are sort of known as what we would call "sketchy", but in my opinion they are the best places in Kigali. They are grimy, on the poor side, and real. We move in on Wednesday (waiting for it to be furnished). I am so excited to settle in.
I am also very excited to get to Butare... there are lots of people there that I need to see, and I am just craving the bus ride there. It is my favourite part of Rwanda. And I find that since I spent most of my time in April outside of Kigali, I am hyperaware of the way that Kigali is built up to look a certain way for the international eye and for tourists in general. While tourism is becoming a major income for Rwanda (rightly so) and in many ways these changes can be seen as "development", I can't help but think about all the rural families that don't get their struggle recognized because they are not being seen. There is a whole other Rwanda outside of Kigali's walls.
On that note, tomorrow is Kagame's inauguration. National holiday. Hopefully all goes off without a hitch, the police and military presence are certainly prepared for the opposite if it should happen. After this holiday it will officially be my first week of work. I really have no idea what that will entail. For anyone who doesn't know, I am here to teach nursing students, supervise clinical placements, and participate in community outreach programs. When I sit down at a desk Tuesday morning, all I know is that I need to make some goals. We'll see what happens after that. More updates to come! Comment with questions if there is anything you are wondering about or anything you would like to hear more about :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)