Frustrations

Most days start the same. Some just hit you the wrong way and it lingers with you all day long, like today. Everything started off the same; bucket bath in my hallway, banana and chai for breakfast, chipper bouncy baby goats in the courtyard in front of the latrine, meeting up with Ella at 730 to head to class. Whenever we go to class there is always a hoard of kids who follow us up the hill to get to G-town. They usually say our names, occasionally an “abazungu!” is thrown in, whatever. But lately that word has been taking on a more and more negative connotation. Some Rwandans say that the word “(u)muzungu” has no derogatory meaning, that it’s just what people call white folks. But lately it’s been hitting the wrong cord with me. Aside from meaning white person, it also means rich person. It shows a separation from who Rwandans see themselves as and who they perceive us to be. No matter how many times I say, “Sindi muzungu! Nitwa Tim” (I’m not a muzungu! My name is Tim” kids and adults alike still refer to me as such. There was a guy today who walked alongside Ella and me today up the hill talking to us and adults who we passed, constantly referring to us as abazungu even though we would tell them our names. Then at the top of the hill a girl was demanding money (amafaranga) from us. I know it’s a cultural/linguistic difference, but the lack of a word for please in this language really frustrates me. When someone wants something from someone the way to go about it is by using an imperative, so instead of saying, “Could you please give me some money” it’s “Give me money.”

Ok, so annoying start to the day, whatever, happens a lot. We go to hub and start by debriefing about our trip to the genocide memorial in Kigali on Sunday, followed by talks about sexual assault, later by a trainee announcing she is early terminating from the Peace Corps. The whole day has just been shrouded in a cloud of gloom and depression. All I wanted to do was go home and listen to music alone in my room without eating dinner. So many things sprang up and brought to the surface varying emotions and feelings. Just as I was feeling pretty low on the way home I got a call from my mom. I then hung out with Ella and the throng of kids in front of her house, my host mom bought me a beer to have with dinner (my first ever with the family), and dinner was everything I have grown to love to eat (rice, beans, and French fries). So even though things have been generally low today it’s nice to be reminded that there are people who care for me, that friends and family back home will always be there for me, and that I have an ever growing support network here in Rwanda. It’s still a struggle at times to deal with the realities of adapting to my new life in Africa, but reminding myself that training is the hardest part of service helps sometimes. Letters also help. And care packages…