A few days in pictures

View near my house when I first arrived in the middle of the dry season.

After the short rains (I think the season has more or less stopped in Kibungo) the valley has already turned green. I can only imagine what it will be like after the long rains.

The view (see above) had disappeared one morning and instead the valley was blanketed in fog.

In Kigali after a marathon of trip planning. We finally found the Taqwa booth to buy our tickets to Dar at about 4:30 - just in time to get to the hotel before the sun went down. This after running around trying to find the Tanzanian embassy, walking in the heat to the bus park and wandering around in the confusion to find it. I am smiling but also sweaty, smelly and gross. 

Arriving home on Saturday, my landlord broght technicians to weld metal to the bottom of my doors so the mice couldn't get in. Notice the lack of protective equipment. $19.99 sunglasses in lieu of welding mask.

The space under the door in the back is big enough for a rat - let alone a mouse!

Because my house is built on a slant (read: falling into the valley), we could not put an extender on the door or it wouldn't shut. So, instead they put a metal bar on the floor. 

While we're at it Jeremy, let's deal with the bee problem too! Jeremy is my landlord and sat with Bop (a nerve gas, essentially) to help eradicate the problem. 

Monday morning drive to workshop in Rukira after a night of rain and mud. 

Racing down on motos to Christine's village near the Tanzanian border. Rwanda is a country of hills and as you approach the border the land becomes more flat. We were driving at about 5:45 and on my right the sun was setting (I tried to take a picture) over the hills, in front of my the full moon was rising, Tanzania stretched out before me for miles.  It was absolutely beautiful. However, my visor was half missing so I could really turn my head to admire the view without the wind whipping at my face. The view was further obstructed by the tape down the centre of the visor. But still, it was stunning. 

We got to Christines and she has little power because the electricity runs on a kerosene generator. The lamp was broken but thankfully a few teachers showed up to drop off some books and they helped her fix it. 

I was in her village to help with a training. Here teachers play a game of Twister. 

Last night the full moon was rising above my house in Kibungo. It was beautiful. You never really even need lights outside during a full moon. It wasn't until I moved to Rwanda that I realized how bright it can be. It's light is never as bright in the city.

Yes, these are pictures of recent things going on. I’m lazy. I don’t feel like writing a lot. I thought I’d taken pictures of everything but realize that so much goes no here that I neglect to write about. I did not, for example, take pictures of my body that is covered in bed bug bites from the hotel that we “splurged” on. I have not taken pictures of my infected eye. I did not take pictures of the 50 million plantains that Christine’s domestic bought in lieu of a variety. I forgot to take pictures of my actual training. I didn’t take pictures of a burn on my arm from my keronsene stove that looks a little like tape worm and so I’m watching it carefully. I have to say that the reason I’m not up for writing is because of what happened last night.

 

After a long, tiring but successful workshop in Rukira we arrived in Kibungo and one hour to get to the back, dump our stuff at my house and catch a bus. We barely made it but of course, it was made better by Consolee’s smiling face at the Alimentation. We hopped on the bus, stopped at Nyakarambi to check on Dorothy’s house and as the sun was setting hopped on motos and sped down the valley toward Tanzania. It was absolutely beautiful (see about). We arrived in Christine’s village while the sun was just tucking behind the hills and the sky was getting dark, save for the almost full moon. As we got of the motos and negotiated times for them to pick us up tomorrow (which they never did) a crowd gathered around – as they usually do – to see the muzungus. Mothers with babies, children and toddlers always gather. The children have large grins and are too shy to say anything. They are just itching to shake your hand. When I’m in the mood (I usually am) I’ll bed down and say “miriwe” (good afternoon) or “muraho” (hello) and shake the little ones’ hands. Last night a little toddler held out her hand with a big grin and I gave it a little shake and a big smile. She was thrilled and turned to run away immediately after. This always happens! But this time, as the little baby (she might have been two) was running away, across the street, a motorcycle came out of nowhere. It hit her and she fell forward and rolled on the ground. Immediately, everything stopped. Everyone rushed towards her. She was screaming. Mothers (not sure which was the child’s real mother) began to try and inspect her head. I held a light and got water to rinse the cut but I felt utterly useless. I couldn’t help by feel totally responsible. Deep down, I know I’m not but still….I know the motorcycle should not have been going this fast in the village during dusk, but still…. The adults around seemed not too concerned because the child was barely bleeding, but still…..I think the worse part of the whole incident is that as much as I’m bothered by it, I think I took it in stride like I have everything in Rwanda. I didn’t really react a tonne. This is what I’ve been thinking about the most. Now, a day later, I am thinking about it much more than I did at the actual moment. Am I becoming desensitized to life here? What would my reaction have been in Canada? Thinking about it this much means I’m not totally desensitized to how hard life is here.   So that’s that. I’m not really up for writing much.