Leaving Rwanda

It was surprisingly easy. I was able to say goodbye to those I cared about and when I finally left my village I had an entourage of 12 students and the headmaster walk me from the school to the main road where they presented me with a parting gift.

Part of the reason it was so easy to leave Rwanda was probably that I was going on a trip to Uganda with my Cyangugu biffle, Claire.

Also, traveling between countries in the East African Community leaves you with a feeling of familiarity and slight confusion; everything is the same but with little differences. The languages share many words, the ways of life are very similar, and the culture shocked backpackers are identical. So, starting my COS trip in Uganda wasn’t enough to force me to realize that I am not in Rwanda anymore.

Yet, I’m writing this from outside a restaurant in Sultanahmet (the old city in Istanbul), eating falafel & döner and drinking beer & a chocolate milkshake (don’t judge my gluttony), overlooking the Blue Mosque and it feels like Rwanda never happened. It feels like I’ve already fallen back into the norms of life before Rwanda, like I’m back in Boston.

It comes in waves though. Yesterday I ate döner while walking down a crowded street and not a single person judged me or asked me for “their” food. The availability of street food and the ability to eat street food was pretty shocking. It’s not forbidden by law in Rwanda but it might as well be with how people drop jaws when they see you eating a banana while you walk.

What I’m starting to realize is that reverse culture shock for me isn’t going to be about the transition of life back to the US but about the small, sometimes miniscule, differences that came to define my service. Personal space, privacy, food, ideas of cleanliness, time management, are just a few of the things that have been focal points of change within me and I will either continue with those changes (for the better I hope) or revert back to my old habits.