Life in Rwanda

Times Contributor

 

Rwanda, “A Land of a Thousand Hills” is justly named for its constant rolling hills that surround you.  From lush green hill tops, to hills dotted with houses of all shapes and sizes, the landscape is quite breathtaking.  I live in an area that is about a 30 minute walk from the school that I am working at and when I say 30 minutes, this is 30 minutes of vigorous walking, definitely not strolling (as appears to be the Rwandan custom and pace of life).  I leave the house by 6am every morning to start my trek to work, just as the sun is rising.  Half of my walk is on dirt road and half is on a beautiful cobblestone road, filled with people of all ages first thing in the morning.  Greetings are essential in Rwanda so on average I greet approximately 50 to 100 people first thing in the morning.  It has been my experience that most Rwandans will not greet me first, not out of rudeness but more from intimidation.  White people are still considered a novelty here and so as you walk down the street most people will stop and stare at you.  You may walk past 10 people on the road talking and they will all stop and just stare.  At first this can be quite intimidating; however, I had the benefit of being pre-warned about this so it was an expectation I already had.  As I say good morning bright smiles light up the faces I pass.  It doesn’t matter if I am speaking English, or French or Kinyarwanda, the gesture is welcomed eagerly with a response and a smile; sometimes even a handshake.  

I have been here a month now and still I am amazed at all these people have to offer.  They are hardworking, dedicated, caring people who are trying to make a better life for themselves and for the people around them.  Just being here, you would never know how much these people have suffered, or in some cases, still suffer.  They continue to heal as a whole community and build a bridge of trust and respect with one another.  At the same time in saying this, there is also still a concern of history repeating itself.  There are many people who will talk to you about their stories and share their tragedies and heart ache with you, but as a whole community, everything is rather hushed when it comes to what happened.  Is it more dangerous to not talk about history or is it better to talk about it and forgive and forget?  There are many memorial sites throughout the province of Kigali that do remind people of what happened, and the bullet holes can still be seen in the walls of parliament as a constant reminder of the Rwandan Genocide but is this enough?

My living conditions are quite good compared to many people here, although what a learning curve I have had.  Where I live we have the luxury of running water, although many people do not within our community, however, despite being hooked up for water, we regularly do not have water that runs!  Instead we fill up bottles of water when the water is working and then this gets us by for the 5 or 6 days at a time when our water is not running.  We also regularly do not have electricity. Good thing I brought two flashlights and lots of batteries!  Laundry is done by hand and then hung out to dry and can take anywhere between 1 and 3 days to dry (I’m curious to see how long it will take during the rainy season, which is fast approaching).  When we take the laundry off the line we shake it really well, just to make sure there are no creepy crawlies hiding in sleeves and pant legs!  Cooking has also been another steep learning curve.  There are definitely some familiar foods that exist here but very few and since I’m not the most adventurous eater, finding food to make has definitely been challenging.  I’ve become quite imaginative in mixing ingredients and in cooking with the extremely limited cooking utensils that we have.  

All in all, this has been an absolutely amazing learning experience.  Some of these experiences have included: my first African safari, buying and bartering for groceries with a language barrier, learning a new language,  going more than 4 days with no running water, teaching teachers in another country, running from cockroaches, discovering that there is such a thing as jumping spiders, watching genuine traditional African dancing, singing and drumming, learning different English terms like a diary is an agenda, a rubber is an eraser, the term “flash me” means to call someone’s phone and hang up so they have your number, the period at the end of a sentence is called a full stop and so on.  Excellent communication skills are essential in being understood, as well as understanding those around you when it comes to different terms, cultural expectations and languages.  I eagerly await all that this experience has to offer and I pray that these people learn as much from me as I am learning from them.