One Year Anniversary

September 14^th marks one year since I left America and the 16^th when I arrived in Kigali (the 15^th was spent eating Belgian chocolate/drinking Belgian beer/sleeping at the airport Sheraton, all on tax payer and American Airline dollars because we missed our connecting flight). I still have over one year to go until I finish because this past year includes three months of training not included in the two years of service. I will wrap up November/December 2014.

Here’s a reflection on the 4% of my life that has been spent in Rwanda:

— Physical

Before I left I put on some weight as I threw caution to the wind and ate everything in sight like a bear prepping for hibernation. I was the fattest I’ve ever been in my life. I’m now 40lbs lighter and back to my freshman year in high school weight.

My skin has changed color. It’s now farmer’s tan brown with a (sometimes not so subtle) hint of red mud from the road.

I am now Chinese. There are several children and some adults who shout umushinwa—Kinyarwanda for Chinese person—at me when I walk by.

— Maladies

During training my bed was one of the first to be infected with bed bugs and fleas. I had to deal with this until the end, even with multiple insecticide sprayings which subsequently caused blurred vision and dizziness.

The plethora of bed bug and flea bites on my body left me itchy. I woke myself up countless times scratching so viciously that my skin started bleeding. This led to streptococcus finding its way into an open wound on my left shin and giving me a three day retreat into Kigali where I got to receive antibiotics in needle form daily and oral antibiotics twice a day for three weeks thereafter.

A blister beetle crawled on my back and rewarded me with another retreat to Kigali. It left a giant scab on my back that can still be faintly seen.

Milk (and to a small degree all dairy) has become an agent of dissatisfaction to my body that my mind is unwilling to accept. Lactose and intolerant are two words I refuse to acknowledge as applicable to my life. Upon my return to 2% Hood milk in the light blocked bottle I will drink myself sick until my body admits defeat and succumbs to lactose tolerance.

— Travel

I love my site for many reasons but one is location. I see Congo from my house and can hike there to one of the most beautiful places I’ve seen in all Rwanda. To get to my site you have to travel through a rain forest called Nyungwe. Cyangugu would be District 13 if Rwanda were Panem but that doesn’t detract from its beauty. Biases aside, Rwanda is a beautiful country everywhere you go. In the north you have volcanoes and in the east you have Akagere where you can go on safari. The cities I’ve been to in Rwanda don’t offer much in the way of entertainment for the passerby but places like Butare, Gisenyi, Kibuye and Musanze have been good reprieves from both my site and Kigali (just because it’s the primary place to meet up with other PCVs because of its accessibility compared to other places). I’ve also been to Zanzibar, out in the Indian Ocean, passing the entire width of Tanzania to get there. I also have tentative plans to go white water rafting and bungee jumping on the Nile River in Uganda and potentially going to Bujumbura, Burundi (assuming travel isn’t restricted any further because as it stands we aren’t allowed to travel to Burundi unless it’s via plane and only to the capital city. This is probably not something you want to hear mom, but I will be careful, I promiseJ).

—Animals

Aside from the typical farm and domesticated animals there are some animals I have seen in East Africa. I went on a dolphin chase, snorkeling to see coral and fish, and see monkeys a lot when I travel through Nyungwe. Rwanda is also an apparently well-known place for bird watching.

—Emotional

I freely and openly admit that I am not the kind of person who shares emotions willingly. I will do anything to avoid talking about your feelings or mine. But here it has been challenging to maintain that guy stereotype. I wouldn’t have been able to make it this far without the support of people back home and the friends I’ve made here, Rwandan or PCV. Sometimes we have days here where we are so homesick and fed up with being called a muzungu that we confine ourselves to our rooms and wish for nothing more than a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and a cheesy rom-com movie to relieve the stress and strain of the day. Since ice cream is only available in two cities in the entire country, that usually has to be substituted for long drawn out texts or conversations with a fellow PCV. If the support back home and here stays as it is I see no reason why I would leave early.

—Food

I can count on a six digit hand the staples that make up 100% of the meals I cook at site—tomatoes, onions/garlic, potatoes, green peppers, carrots, rice/pasta. The only difference between meals is the sauce/spice. For a while 20% of the money I spent a week on food went to peanuts but I have since cutback on fear of developing a peanut allergy as some PCVs have done while here. I now have some popcorn donated to me from my site mate that I cook when I need a snack. When I want to feel adventurous I buy passion fruit and bananas. If I’m feeling particularly daring I’ll buy a pineapple.

Meat has never once made an appearance in my own cooked meals. I only eat it when I buy it at a restaurant that serves good meat, though good is a relative term. Fatty pieces of fat sprinkled with a semblance of muscle are considered quite appropriate. Same as intestines.

—Teaching

The jury is still out on whether or not I am actually teaching anything to my 400 students but I like to humor myself by thinking at the very least they’ve increased their listening comprehension and that I’ve lost my fear of public speaking (this doesn’t apply to being requested to give an impromptu speech in Kinyarwanda at a ceremony where you know hardly know anyone and are the only white person). This could very well be wishful thinking. I never thought that I would enjoy teaching. I never want to be a teacher after this but not because I hate it. I don’t love it but it certainly has its worthwhile moments. After a long absence from my students I begin to miss them. It’s also really nice when you hear proclamations of love from your students (Kinyarwanda doesn’t differentiate between love and like, but I’ll take it still) or when you hear through the grapevine that the students really enjoy having you around.

—Down time

Something that we all anticipate but never adequately prepare for is what to do when we have nothing to do. I’ve read 55 books since January and watched countless movies and TV shows. I watched every episode of Seinfeld in less than two weeks and picked up some Danish because of all the subtitles. I spent one Saturday watching 12 episodes of Dexter. When I start a TV show I don’t stop until it’s finished. Whenever PCVs get together we inevitably bring our external hard drives to swap media. I no longer accept sitcoms or anything because I have flawed logic in thinking that since they’re only like 20ish minutes long that just one more episode won’t be that bad. Before I know it I will finish an entire season in one day. I now just watch movies when I cook dinner and relax after the sun sets, which is at six so I watch like 2 movies a night.

— Beer

Rwandan culture practically requires that you drink beer, unless of course you’re a woman. Leaving this blog entry without a beer section would not be an accurate depiction of life in Rwanda, PCV or not.

The first time I drank at my site was at a teacher’s meeting. My tolerance (probably my liver as well) has not fared so well since then. At swear-in I drank 8 Primus (each is like drinking a 40oz). Now, if I drink a small Primus I’m feeling tipsy. A big one, I’m quite buzzed. Two, I’m drunk. Three +, make sure I had a good dinner or stop me from going on. I’ve also switched beers to Turbo King, aptly motto-ed the Beer of Men (inzoga n’amabago). This saves money in the long run but runs the risk of more inebriation due to higher alcohol content. Then there’s urgwagwa (spelling might be off), which is banana beer. This is the foulest “beer” I have ever tried in my life. It’s made from bananas thrown in the ground and left to ferment for a while. Some other steps are included but that’s the gist of it. Try this beer and Rwandans will love you but your stomach might subsequently make reservations with a latrine.

All in all, I would say that life in Rwanda has been generally positive. I was upset that in my interview with Peace Corps I was practically assured that I wouldn’t be going to South America, lest I should actually get the opportunity to put the Spanish half of my university degree to use. But Rwanda really is a diamond in the rough. It’s overlooked by the other countries in east Africa and severely overshadowed by its recent history but that makes it no less amazing than what it is. Hills abound and make you curse such a landscape until you make it to the top and marvel at all the beauty this country has to offer.