Yup, still in Rwanda

This week I have been realizing how incredibly good I have it here. I may not be living American style, but compared to the women I work with, I am living in luxury! I don’t have running water, but I have electricity; my floors are poured concrete instead of dirt or mud-brick, and I eat a small variety of foods instead of just manioc bread. Plus, living with Rwandans, instead of with expats as I did on my other trips to Africa, has been one of the deepest blessings of my time here. Serge and Francine, the young couple I live with, have offered me an unfiltered peek into Rwandan life and, best of all, friendship.

Maybe the second biggest blessing is riding moto-taxis! I’ve never really been all that attracted to the idea of motorcycles and I had never ridden one before getting here, but I have been converted! They are so fun! And not just a little bit sketchy. The average moto ride on a dirt road provides me with 3-5 near death experiences, giving me the opportunity to make peace with my Maker… repeatedly. The drivers carry an extra helmet for their passenger, but since the helmets need to fit big African men, they usually come down over my eyes and don’t seem all that likely to protect me in the event of an accident. Jen accuses me of only liking motos because I get to spoon with the moto driver, but hey, a girl has needs. And this girl’s most important need is to hold on tight so she doesn’t die on the side of the road in rural Rwanda!

In fact, Rwanda is full of small joys once you know how to look for them. Did I mention that last week Rwanda’s one television station was playing Kenny Loggins music videos? Yup, it’s bizarre what nuggets of Western culture find their way over here. In fact, I’ve been working myself to educate Rwandan children in American culture. So far, the kids in Remera-Rukoma have learned “what’s up dog?” and “oh nothing.” Unfortunately they haven’t yet figured out that it’s a question and a response, so more often than getting an American greeting, I hear, “Nuffin! Whasupdog! Muzungu! Nuffin!”

The 4th of July weekend was especially fun. We celebrated American Independence Day and the Rwandan Journée de la Libération (the end of the genocide)with Serge and Francine at Lake Kivu on the border between Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Beer and dancing on the beach always make the world seem rosier. We also got to take a day trip over to Goma in the DRC to see the recent lava flows, stock up on cheap stuff you can buy with American money, play the UN truck version of punch-buggy, and get a bad ass stamp in our passports. Plus, there’s nothing like going to Goma to make wherever you live look pretty good.

So no deep thoughts in this update, I just wanted to give you a taste of the ridiculous oddities and small pleasures that make me happy here. Actually, that has been one of the hardest lessons I’ve been learning: how to be happy when my daily work revolves around murder, rape, and extreme poverty. Sometimes the pain of the people around me gets to be too much and I’m tempted to just crawl inside myself and stop feeling for awhile. After all, as long as I do my work, does it matter what I feel? As it turns out, it does, if only to me. Still, it is important to remember that this world has enough horrible things in it that anyone who is paying attention can be well-informed and miserable. The real trick is to keep my eyes and heart open to the world AND treasure the very real beauty and laughter that exist even here.