So today my wonderful GLOW girl (the one I brought from my village to camp), who sought me out to learn English better and who I then privately tutored for a bit, and who also stole the show at GLOW because of her confidence and dynamism, came to me today. She came this morning to tell me she was going to check the exam results to find what Upper Secondary school she got into. (They have to have passed the test with a certain score to continue with S4, 5, 6, kinda like our high school). Now I'm not sure of all the particulars but I know that when she came to me this morning she was excited and full of hope and the girl that returned this afternoon was none of those things. She came back to tell me that she had not succeeded in securing a spot, but that she would try and get in touch with the Headmaster of the Teacher Training College because she had passed certain courses (but I guess not all of those necessary or not with high enough scores).
Otherwise, she can't continue school. HOW does that make sense? Maybe I'm missing some critical part of the equation, but shouldn't all those that WANT to continue school here get the opportunity to do so somewhere. Maybe it's the space, maybe it's the lack of teachers or funding to get them to these schools? Either way, I've been hit over the head with the reality of their situation. We take high school and many people even take college for granted. This girl, if she can't get the position at the Teacher Training school, if she's lucky, will go to work as a house girl for someone, or maybe be able to sell things at the market, or get a job in a shop. But in all likelihood, she'll just be stuck at home, taking care of her many younger siblings and waiting till she can get married or she won't and will start having children that she's too young and poor to care for. How can you break the cycle of this until everyone has the chance to break it for themselves?
What's the point in enabling these girls to make their own choices or learn about career planning or goal setting when they're robbed of those choices by their circumstances?
I can't stand this and the worst part of it is, I don't know what I can do about it at this point. If I could buy her way into a school I would, but I'm not even sure that's possible.
What's the point of being here if I can't even give this bright, amazing girl a chance at a future?
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
"Post-Conflict"
So this past weekend and through the next week Peace Corps Rwanda is undergoing a review of its programs. I think it's a really positive thing because they are trying to address problems with the programs and encourage the stuff that's working on a more institutional level. I was a participant in one of the focus groups on "Working as a PCV in a 'post-conflict' country" (the others included: PCV leaders, Health, & Education).
It was a really cathartic discussion. First and foremost, because we were able to really honestly talk about things that we don't address that often. For obvious reasons, the 1994 Genocide is a rather sensitive topic here. We don't ask people in our communities anything that could be even remotely connected to those sorts of things. There are all sorts of gov't. restrictions on the things you can say and especially as concerns identification of one ethnic group or another. I'm not sure how you all feel about that sort of policy, but we're not allowed to really address it. Frankly, most of the time, for the sake of our sanity we want to leave things as they are. You catch snippets of talk and some people proffer their stories of that time with no word from us. They come at unusual times, which isn't that rare for such traumas. BUT, that means they blindside you. And it leads to some curious difficulties in small talk. It's hard to get to know someone when you don't want to ask about their family for fear of what that could potentially trigger. They typically phrase the first question about my family as "Do you still have both your parents?" and then continue to ask about siblings. People will mention, "Yes, I was once one of 11, now we are 9 because of the Genocide" (or often, "because of the war").
In addition, every year starting April 7th there is a Memorial Week (or really period of 3 months) that ends on July 4th, their Liberation Day. Throughout that time, there are memorials and ceremonies and marches and visits to various memorial sites throughout the country. We arrived in the country after the biggest part of these ceremonies, but we did experience one such ceremony in our training community. We were brought to a ceremony that we were told was a "Memorial"('with singing and some speeches') The critical part of that description left out of that it was also a 'Reburial ceremony'...
Now here's where it gets even more complicated. We were really uncomfortable at this. We felt we had no right to be there, what did we know of it all? How could we possibly relate? How could we sympathize or comfort even? Wasn't it bad that they were distracted from the ceremony by the herd of Americans walking around?
So we felt guilty for being there. We feel guilty that we can't relate. We feel guilty when we want to avoid the trauma or pain of even these events because how does that even begin to compare? One volunteer was told once, "It's interesting that all the muzunugus leave during April because that's what they did when it all happened in the first place."
How do you respond to that? But then, how can someone from our (more likely than not) relatively sheltered existence be present at these events without being overwhelmed by it all.
It's something we may not struggle with on a daily basis, but these things are in the back of our minds and simmering below the surface of interactions in our communities.
I'm not entirely comfortable about even putting this all up here but I feel like you should know. I think you couldn't imagine reconciling the picture you have of Rwanda in your head from Heart of Darkness or Hotel Rwanda with the Rwanda that I've described before this post. If you knew nothing of Rwanda's history and came here today, I think it would be very difficult to imagine anything like that had ever happened here. But, it did and we can't change that it did. But knowing that certainly makes the utterly common site of a boy kicking a ball while holding a machete more uncomfortable. As volunteers though, we're constantly asking ourselves to look past that to do our work and work with everyone...but how do you disassociate like that? The better question I find myself asking is...how do they? Do they?
OR are they just putting on the Rwandan neutral face to get through today next to someone who may have killed their whole family. Just trying to move from yesterday to tomorrow.
If you're curious,these are several good books, (that I've read personally) that you can read on this topic and the path the country has taken since then:
We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families:Stories from Rwanda by Phillip Gourevitch
Machete Season:The Killers in Rwanda Speak by Jean Hatzfeld (**I've also heard great things about Jean Hatzfeld's other two books but have yet to read them*)
Shake Hands with the Devil: The Failure of Humanity in Rwanda by Romeo Dallaire
A Thousand Hills:Rwanda's Rebirth and the Man Who Dreamed It by Stephen Kinzer
Remaking Rwanda: State Building and Human Rights after Mass Violence by Scott Straus & Lars Waldorf
It was a really cathartic discussion. First and foremost, because we were able to really honestly talk about things that we don't address that often. For obvious reasons, the 1994 Genocide is a rather sensitive topic here. We don't ask people in our communities anything that could be even remotely connected to those sorts of things. There are all sorts of gov't. restrictions on the things you can say and especially as concerns identification of one ethnic group or another. I'm not sure how you all feel about that sort of policy, but we're not allowed to really address it. Frankly, most of the time, for the sake of our sanity we want to leave things as they are. You catch snippets of talk and some people proffer their stories of that time with no word from us. They come at unusual times, which isn't that rare for such traumas. BUT, that means they blindside you. And it leads to some curious difficulties in small talk. It's hard to get to know someone when you don't want to ask about their family for fear of what that could potentially trigger. They typically phrase the first question about my family as "Do you still have both your parents?" and then continue to ask about siblings. People will mention, "Yes, I was once one of 11, now we are 9 because of the Genocide" (or often, "because of the war").
In addition, every year starting April 7th there is a Memorial Week (or really period of 3 months) that ends on July 4th, their Liberation Day. Throughout that time, there are memorials and ceremonies and marches and visits to various memorial sites throughout the country. We arrived in the country after the biggest part of these ceremonies, but we did experience one such ceremony in our training community. We were brought to a ceremony that we were told was a "Memorial"('with singing and some speeches') The critical part of that description left out of that it was also a 'Reburial ceremony'...
Now here's where it gets even more complicated. We were really uncomfortable at this. We felt we had no right to be there, what did we know of it all? How could we possibly relate? How could we sympathize or comfort even? Wasn't it bad that they were distracted from the ceremony by the herd of Americans walking around?
So we felt guilty for being there. We feel guilty that we can't relate. We feel guilty when we want to avoid the trauma or pain of even these events because how does that even begin to compare? One volunteer was told once, "It's interesting that all the muzunugus leave during April because that's what they did when it all happened in the first place."
How do you respond to that? But then, how can someone from our (more likely than not) relatively sheltered existence be present at these events without being overwhelmed by it all.
It's something we may not struggle with on a daily basis, but these things are in the back of our minds and simmering below the surface of interactions in our communities.
I'm not entirely comfortable about even putting this all up here but I feel like you should know. I think you couldn't imagine reconciling the picture you have of Rwanda in your head from Heart of Darkness or Hotel Rwanda with the Rwanda that I've described before this post. If you knew nothing of Rwanda's history and came here today, I think it would be very difficult to imagine anything like that had ever happened here. But, it did and we can't change that it did. But knowing that certainly makes the utterly common site of a boy kicking a ball while holding a machete more uncomfortable. As volunteers though, we're constantly asking ourselves to look past that to do our work and work with everyone...but how do you disassociate like that? The better question I find myself asking is...how do they? Do they?
OR are they just putting on the Rwandan neutral face to get through today next to someone who may have killed their whole family. Just trying to move from yesterday to tomorrow.
If you're curious,these are several good books, (that I've read personally) that you can read on this topic and the path the country has taken since then:
We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families:Stories from Rwanda by Phillip Gourevitch
Machete Season:The Killers in Rwanda Speak by Jean Hatzfeld (**I've also heard great things about Jean Hatzfeld's other two books but have yet to read them*)
Shake Hands with the Devil: The Failure of Humanity in Rwanda by Romeo Dallaire
A Thousand Hills:Rwanda's Rebirth and the Man Who Dreamed It by Stephen Kinzer
Remaking Rwanda: State Building and Human Rights after Mass Violence by Scott Straus & Lars Waldorf
Sunday, January 22, 2012
fake it 'til you make it.....
So as with all things Peace Corps, my feelings yesterday are drastically different from my feelings today. That fact, in and of itself might help explain the difficulty in understanding your surroundings when the most solid thing you've known (namely, yourself) is suddenly foreign to you...Especially when you've made it a point to try to know and understand your feelings, this is all very disorienting. You have no idea if today will feel like you've conquered the world or it's conquered you. And surprisingly little of that is based on what has happened that day.
Anywho, yesterday I spent time with my wonderful friend Markey and had beautiful moments eating her wonderful cooking, playing with her adorable neighborhood children and visiting my dear friends that she introduced me to. We spent a lot of time talking about my job crisis and inner turmoil as a result. At the end of it all, she had so many great suggestions for me. I felt though, that I didn't have the energy or will to implement them. I don't like that feeling. I'm a "can do" not a "can...don't?"
Today though, I've had a small renewal of strength. Mass was just as exhausting, but then after having the briefest of conversations with one of my housemates, I felt like, "hey. i should keep this up." I've been not wanting to just go through the motions of doing the things I need to, but maybe that's what I need for a little while. Maybe what I need is just to "fake it til I make it" and not base my entire self-worth on every interaction. So I'm adopting that and it's going well. I'm also pushing myself to just try projects bit by bit. I taught my kids a song about handwashing today that includes all the times they're supposed to be doing it. Now I just have to get the other teachers on board so they actually make it possible for the kids to do this. As always, the more difficult part is the latter. So we'll see. But I had fun walking down to town and chatting with people as I did, and not caring about the rest or the stares. It was a nice change of pace. So I'll keep on that and make this New Year (the Lunar New Year) my real fresh start. So yay!
Anywho, yesterday I spent time with my wonderful friend Markey and had beautiful moments eating her wonderful cooking, playing with her adorable neighborhood children and visiting my dear friends that she introduced me to. We spent a lot of time talking about my job crisis and inner turmoil as a result. At the end of it all, she had so many great suggestions for me. I felt though, that I didn't have the energy or will to implement them. I don't like that feeling. I'm a "can do" not a "can...don't?"
Today though, I've had a small renewal of strength. Mass was just as exhausting, but then after having the briefest of conversations with one of my housemates, I felt like, "hey. i should keep this up." I've been not wanting to just go through the motions of doing the things I need to, but maybe that's what I need for a little while. Maybe what I need is just to "fake it til I make it" and not base my entire self-worth on every interaction. So I'm adopting that and it's going well. I'm also pushing myself to just try projects bit by bit. I taught my kids a song about handwashing today that includes all the times they're supposed to be doing it. Now I just have to get the other teachers on board so they actually make it possible for the kids to do this. As always, the more difficult part is the latter. So we'll see. But I had fun walking down to town and chatting with people as I did, and not caring about the rest or the stares. It was a nice change of pace. So I'll keep on that and make this New Year (the Lunar New Year) my real fresh start. So yay!
Saturday, January 21, 2012
puzzles are puzzling
So I guess life is always like a puzzle. There are always all these different pieces that you're trying to find to put together to create your life. You have to figure out a way to make the "work" piece and the "fun" piece mix with the "people" pieces and somehow make all of those be something that makes sense to you and something you're happy and proud to show off as "My Life."
But now imagine you can't see the edges of the pieces...what if they were blurry, what if you didn't know where one ended and the other began? And then what if you couldn't see the picture. What if you weren't sure what it was all supposed to look like at the end? Granted, most of us don't know what the finished product will be and granted, that changes pretty often. BUT there are some things that are certain. It's as if our personality and understanding of ourselves create the outline, the edge pieces.
Here, I feel like all my edge pieces have lost their edge.
The Peace Corps is difficult, but not in the ways you originally anticipate. It's the constant scrutiny and the isolation that get to you. You feel like no one wants to get to know you for you. They don't wanna know you because they think you might be an interesting person, but because you could be a ticket to America, or a funding opportunity here. NOW, this is obviously not true of everyone, but is most often true of the people that seek you out to get to know you. And to most others...you're an oddity. An attraction to stare at because you MUST be about to do something un-human. And your feelings on that don't really matter, aren't something valid because you're not in their frame of reference.
I'm sorry if this is whiny or not happy but it's just kind of how I've been feeling the past week or so.
There are still bright moments, like the smile of an old woman when we share "amahoro" (peace) at mass. Or my little babies at the preschool singing and dancing in front of the class, or playing with the little babies near my friend's place and then having them cuddle up to me as they tire out...but those are seeming more like the exception than the real. I'm working really hard to take more of the positive from every moment. Truly. I guess I just gotta keep that up and make it dominate. I guess it's that attitude that will have to be my puzzle glue to keep me together...I just have to make sure it's glue rather than the fist just trying to smash pieces to make them fit.
But now imagine you can't see the edges of the pieces...what if they were blurry, what if you didn't know where one ended and the other began? And then what if you couldn't see the picture. What if you weren't sure what it was all supposed to look like at the end? Granted, most of us don't know what the finished product will be and granted, that changes pretty often. BUT there are some things that are certain. It's as if our personality and understanding of ourselves create the outline, the edge pieces.
Here, I feel like all my edge pieces have lost their edge.
The Peace Corps is difficult, but not in the ways you originally anticipate. It's the constant scrutiny and the isolation that get to you. You feel like no one wants to get to know you for you. They don't wanna know you because they think you might be an interesting person, but because you could be a ticket to America, or a funding opportunity here. NOW, this is obviously not true of everyone, but is most often true of the people that seek you out to get to know you. And to most others...you're an oddity. An attraction to stare at because you MUST be about to do something un-human. And your feelings on that don't really matter, aren't something valid because you're not in their frame of reference.
I'm sorry if this is whiny or not happy but it's just kind of how I've been feeling the past week or so.
There are still bright moments, like the smile of an old woman when we share "amahoro" (peace) at mass. Or my little babies at the preschool singing and dancing in front of the class, or playing with the little babies near my friend's place and then having them cuddle up to me as they tire out...but those are seeming more like the exception than the real. I'm working really hard to take more of the positive from every moment. Truly. I guess I just gotta keep that up and make it dominate. I guess it's that attitude that will have to be my puzzle glue to keep me together...I just have to make sure it's glue rather than the fist just trying to smash pieces to make them fit.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Pictures!
SO, because getting out my camera is either a dangerous feat or I'm too busy doing instead of taking pictures, I've found some wonderful pictures on my friend's blog that give you a great idea of our girls' empowerment camp, Camp GLOW! I will try to continue and steal other people's pictures to give you an idea of things when I either can't or am too lazy!
http://confessionsofatraveloholic.blogspot.com/2011/12/photos-from-camp-glow-eastern-province.html
http://confessionsofatraveloholic.blogspot.com/2011/12/photos-from-camp-glow-eastern-province.html
Friday, January 13, 2012
a review...
So we're two weeks into the new year, 2012. Absolutely unbelievable...but, I'll save my incredulous comments on the passage of time for another post or a contemplative Saturday with not much else to do but talk to myself.
I got back to site on Wednesday, back into Rwanda on Saturday, but wanted a day to recover and then got a nasty virus that knocked me off my feet for effectively the whole week. As a result, yesterday was my first real foray back into my PCV life (don't think knocking out two books and sleeping at odd hours while trying to recover counts).
Not gonna lie, it's been a bit rough. Before Christmas, as much as I was missing home, all the physical comforts, food options, family and friends were less of a reality to me. There were 8 months of Rwanda blocking all those memories. It's like my senses had forgotten what all of those things were like. My life was what was in front of me. I understood squeezie buses and screaming children and beautiful hills and constant stares and unlimited avocados. I'd hear about things like cozy coffee shops and movie theaters and fireside days avoiding winter weather, but they weren't real to me anymore. I'm not sure how much of that was a lack of imagination or just the immediacy with which all the things around me press in on my consciousness. The things around me are so much to take in that all my energy and thoughts are consumed with their absorption and processing. BUT then...i went home.
And it was the most wonderful thing. I've never appreciated everyone and everything as much as I did in those 13 days. I ate sushi and bbq. I spent days on end curled up with my sisters and family on big comfy couches in front of fires and netflix! I got to see SO many of my best friends. It was perfection. And then I came back.
I had a bit of a transitional period in Kigali with hot showers and some other lovely PCVs and now I'm back to site.
It's been surprisingly easy to just go back to using a pit latrine and showering less often. I have some small wonderful American comfort foods to ease me back into the transition. BUT the people, it's been hard for me to find the energy to brave all my neighbors and their bizarre "Welcome Back"s. Yesterday, I was scolded for something I didn't know was wrong. One of my neighbors asked me, "Why didn't you tell me you were going home to your parents?" I didn't know quite how to say I thought it was implied when I said I was going back to America to visit my family for the holidays. So I simply made a non-committal but Rwandan appropriate noise. At this he asked, "Why didn't you tell me so I could send my greetings?"
I understood the question but didn't really understand why he would be asking that so I gave the Rwandan equivalent of "huh?" so he started speaking in French. I had actually translated the question well and now had the confirmation that this was in fact, what he was asking and I hadn't misunderstood. I replied that it was okay because I had sent them his greetings anyway.
I wasn't prepped for those sorts of questions. The return to kinyarwanda wasn't that difficult as I had spent so much of my time at home thinking it, or saying "ntakibazo" to blank stares. But it's also the pressure of all those interactions. I'm back to knowing everything I do is judged and directly impacts what I can do here in terms of work. But i've been dealing with that for the last 8 months so I'm ready to dig back in, I guess.
BUT it's the work itself that has been the scariest obstacle to me. This is a new feeling for me. I very rarely feel like I don't know where to go or what to do in my work. I'm usually 3 steps ahead and when I'm not, I'm sure that I can simply figure it out. I'll find a way to do it. It's a lot harder to tell myself that here. I had a meeting Thursday with my Assistant Program Manager. He was primarily there to discuss my housing situation (which has predictably seen no changes in the last 3 weeks). But then he also wanted to chat with me on my social and professional integration. NOW, in terms of my social integration, I wasn't real worried. Most of the people, even in my slightly larger town knew who I was and at least 1 other random fact about me. I knew this because when I walk around I hear behind me ("She's American" or "She teaches at the preschool" or "she likes kids" or "she speaks kinyarwanda"). This fact, combined with my great triumph of having more people call me by my name instead of "muzungu" the last time I went to the market, makes me feel pretty comfortable about my community integration.
Now professional integration....was it a bad sign when I wasn't even sure what that meant here? Things that have helped keep me from feeling like a total failure have included getting my kids to say "please/ thank you," all the amazing notes from my girls at Camp GLOW from the affirmation wall, and the joy my cooperative women get in calling me their "co-worker." Those things help, but overall, being a 'big-picture' person it's difficult to feel as satisfied as I'd really like to by them. I don't know how to satisfy myself with small things. Any ideas? It's weird cause I LOVE the little pleasures of life. I can make myself happy with ANYTHING...why can't it translate?
I developed a list of "Work that I CAN DO" for myself and will work my way down that with giant shiny check marks and hopefully in the midst of all that, stumble onto something or a conglomeration of things that make this feel like a job where I am on top of it.
I got back to site on Wednesday, back into Rwanda on Saturday, but wanted a day to recover and then got a nasty virus that knocked me off my feet for effectively the whole week. As a result, yesterday was my first real foray back into my PCV life (don't think knocking out two books and sleeping at odd hours while trying to recover counts).
Not gonna lie, it's been a bit rough. Before Christmas, as much as I was missing home, all the physical comforts, food options, family and friends were less of a reality to me. There were 8 months of Rwanda blocking all those memories. It's like my senses had forgotten what all of those things were like. My life was what was in front of me. I understood squeezie buses and screaming children and beautiful hills and constant stares and unlimited avocados. I'd hear about things like cozy coffee shops and movie theaters and fireside days avoiding winter weather, but they weren't real to me anymore. I'm not sure how much of that was a lack of imagination or just the immediacy with which all the things around me press in on my consciousness. The things around me are so much to take in that all my energy and thoughts are consumed with their absorption and processing. BUT then...i went home.
And it was the most wonderful thing. I've never appreciated everyone and everything as much as I did in those 13 days. I ate sushi and bbq. I spent days on end curled up with my sisters and family on big comfy couches in front of fires and netflix! I got to see SO many of my best friends. It was perfection. And then I came back.
I had a bit of a transitional period in Kigali with hot showers and some other lovely PCVs and now I'm back to site.
It's been surprisingly easy to just go back to using a pit latrine and showering less often. I have some small wonderful American comfort foods to ease me back into the transition. BUT the people, it's been hard for me to find the energy to brave all my neighbors and their bizarre "Welcome Back"s. Yesterday, I was scolded for something I didn't know was wrong. One of my neighbors asked me, "Why didn't you tell me you were going home to your parents?" I didn't know quite how to say I thought it was implied when I said I was going back to America to visit my family for the holidays. So I simply made a non-committal but Rwandan appropriate noise. At this he asked, "Why didn't you tell me so I could send my greetings?"
I understood the question but didn't really understand why he would be asking that so I gave the Rwandan equivalent of "huh?" so he started speaking in French. I had actually translated the question well and now had the confirmation that this was in fact, what he was asking and I hadn't misunderstood. I replied that it was okay because I had sent them his greetings anyway.
I wasn't prepped for those sorts of questions. The return to kinyarwanda wasn't that difficult as I had spent so much of my time at home thinking it, or saying "ntakibazo" to blank stares. But it's also the pressure of all those interactions. I'm back to knowing everything I do is judged and directly impacts what I can do here in terms of work. But i've been dealing with that for the last 8 months so I'm ready to dig back in, I guess.
BUT it's the work itself that has been the scariest obstacle to me. This is a new feeling for me. I very rarely feel like I don't know where to go or what to do in my work. I'm usually 3 steps ahead and when I'm not, I'm sure that I can simply figure it out. I'll find a way to do it. It's a lot harder to tell myself that here. I had a meeting Thursday with my Assistant Program Manager. He was primarily there to discuss my housing situation (which has predictably seen no changes in the last 3 weeks). But then he also wanted to chat with me on my social and professional integration. NOW, in terms of my social integration, I wasn't real worried. Most of the people, even in my slightly larger town knew who I was and at least 1 other random fact about me. I knew this because when I walk around I hear behind me ("She's American" or "She teaches at the preschool" or "she likes kids" or "she speaks kinyarwanda"). This fact, combined with my great triumph of having more people call me by my name instead of "muzungu" the last time I went to the market, makes me feel pretty comfortable about my community integration.
Now professional integration....was it a bad sign when I wasn't even sure what that meant here? Things that have helped keep me from feeling like a total failure have included getting my kids to say "please/ thank you," all the amazing notes from my girls at Camp GLOW from the affirmation wall, and the joy my cooperative women get in calling me their "co-worker." Those things help, but overall, being a 'big-picture' person it's difficult to feel as satisfied as I'd really like to by them. I don't know how to satisfy myself with small things. Any ideas? It's weird cause I LOVE the little pleasures of life. I can make myself happy with ANYTHING...why can't it translate?
I developed a list of "Work that I CAN DO" for myself and will work my way down that with giant shiny check marks and hopefully in the midst of all that, stumble onto something or a conglomeration of things that make this feel like a job where I am on top of it.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
and all that jazz...
So America is great. and completely overwhelming. Choices for dinner, choices for shows, choices for movies, choices for your coffee. At lunch with my grandparents I had 6, count 'em 6! different choices for my pulled chicken sandwich. ( I tackled this particular problem by using 3 different ones together.)
This has been my basic overall strategy to try and wrap my head around all the choices we have here. Avoid making choices and have a bit of everything. It's been pretty effective minus the occasional stomach ache as a result of embracing too many options, particularly at meal times. But it's been amazing. I love choices. Variety is the spice and I think in my next year now that I'm comfy with the basics that I'm gonna try and find the variety I know is present even in tiny Rwanda.
Now that I'm on my way out, I know I'm gonna miss the flush toilets and the hot showers and listening to my music and dancing and singing in the shower...BUT mostly I'm gonna miss all the amazing people in my life. There's a lot of them and I've come to value them so much for all the support they've given me over the past 8 months and especially in my time at home. They are such a source of joy and inspiration. They keep me going for so many reasons and in so many ways. They're even better than a hot shower and indoor plumbing.
This has been my basic overall strategy to try and wrap my head around all the choices we have here. Avoid making choices and have a bit of everything. It's been pretty effective minus the occasional stomach ache as a result of embracing too many options, particularly at meal times. But it's been amazing. I love choices. Variety is the spice and I think in my next year now that I'm comfy with the basics that I'm gonna try and find the variety I know is present even in tiny Rwanda.
Now that I'm on my way out, I know I'm gonna miss the flush toilets and the hot showers and listening to my music and dancing and singing in the shower...BUT mostly I'm gonna miss all the amazing people in my life. There's a lot of them and I've come to value them so much for all the support they've given me over the past 8 months and especially in my time at home. They are such a source of joy and inspiration. They keep me going for so many reasons and in so many ways. They're even better than a hot shower and indoor plumbing.
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