Sometimes there are days like…

I find myself continuously struggling with the concept of “time” here. And not only in regards to what we refer to as “Rwanda time” where everything happens at a different pace and generally 45 minutes to 3 hours after it’s scheduled to. I’m referring to the hours of the day, and how (slowly or quickly) they pass here. I can’t decide if I feel like I just arrived in Rwanda or if I feel like I’ve been here forever. Honestly, I think it’s a fair amount of both. The closest explanation I’ve been able to come up with is this: each day, at the time, seems to go on and on and include more outings, learning experiences, awkward moments and excitement than usually occurred in three or four days in my pre-PCV life; and yet, as I look back at my time here I marvel at how quickly each week seems to pass. It’s like I’ve blinked my eyes and suddenly three months have passed.

Two things are certain: 1) I generally accomplish more here in a day than I ever did back in the states. Hell, I accomplish more in the first 4 hours of my day than I ever did. And 2) no two days are ever the same. This isn’t to say that every new day is full of exotic and extraordinary adventures. Actually, yes that is kind of what I mean. Every day we’re exploring a new road or visiting a different health center (or in some cases mountain or city), each day I meet new people (either by choice or by chance), every day I explore a different part of Musanze, as well as discover different foods (even when it‘s just finding American food in a Rwandan store). All of this leads to a moment each night before I go to sleep where I reflect on what happened that day, the craziness that occurred, the emotions that I felt, and ponder what will come tomorrow.

So to illustrate these thoughts, here are some tales from the past week, just a couple of days in my life. Maybe it will help you (and maybe even me) understand what I mean about time here. Because sometimes there are days like…

Monday: All in all, this was a fairly chill day. Following a productive work meeting with Bertin, Jessica and I had one mission: pay the carpenter the deposit for my furniture. The carpentry area of town is a frantic and crowded place (Jessica at one point even looked back, made sure I was still behind her and told me “please don’t get lost, I’ll never find you again”); and of course the carpenter was no where to be found. So we decided to stop at the District office to attempt introducing me to the Executive Secretary; again, no where to be found. Defeated times two, we consoled ourselves with chapatti, coffee and fast internet. Then we consoled ourselves more with grilled cheese sandwiches and Sex and the City episodes over lunch. Post-lunch, we returned to our mission, and this time succeeded beautifully (with an added bonus of fresh woodchips for the cat’s litter box). After a quick stop at the market for eggs and other essentials, we slowly walked home, enjoying views of the volcanoes and what was probably the most beautiful weather I’ve experienced yet in Rwanda. I was so content, and spent the rest of the night writing letters and watching movies.

Tuesday: Jessica had to go to Gisenyi for the day, so it was just me and Bertin (and our driver, Bonesa). We were going to Nyabihu, the other district that Bertin is a District Health Advisor for, to Shyira hospital. He warned the roads would be bad, they were worse. As we drove, town quickly disappeared, and with it the nice paved roads of Musanze, replaced instead by roads that are a jagged mix of dirt and volcanic rock. Mountains loomed on all sides as we bumped and jolted around. The bumps were never-ending. The word “bump” doesn’t even begin to describe them. They made me almost go crazy, constantly wishing that 1) the drive would end and 2) I had decided to wear a sports bra that day. I found myself unable to breathe at times, partially due to the altitude and partially due to the views that continue to take my breath away, but mostly due to the fact that the wind was constantly being knocked out of me. I repeatedly fought the urge to ask “are we there yet?”. All of a sudden, we drove through a bustling town center, teaming with people. And everyone, seriously everyone, had at least one bright yellow, plastic jerry can. I’ve stopped questioning sights like those, but then I noticed that the jerry cans were bloated, inflated. After asking Bertin, he told me it’s waragi, the banana liquor produced in the region; it’s then that I realized the town was surrounded by banana trees. It was like a banana forest. And then the bumps returned. I marveled at Bertin and Bonesa’s ability to hold a conversation despite the terrain. Bertin pointed off into the distance at white buildings on top of a mountain; Shyira hospital. Soon we were climbing the mountain. I didn’t think the road could get worse; turns out, it could. At times the truck was pulling itself through the mud. The car was sideways, I feared we might tip over. Our truck hugged the side of the mountain; I hugged my seat of the truck. And finally, we reach the top. Shyira is a well-funded, well-run hospital and after a few meetings (where I attempted to follow the conversation in three different languages) and a coffee break, we headed back down the mountain. It had rained while we were at the hospital; I hadn’t thought anything of it until we rounded a corner on our journey back down and came upon a truck, stuck deeply into the mud. There was no way to pass, as the road was far too narrow, so we waited. Well, a white girl sitting in a truck on the side of a mountain is clearly the most exciting thing that’s happened this month, because soon we were surrounded by beaming children saying “good morning!!!” and staring at me through the window…for 45 minutes. When we were finally on our way again, the ride back was uneventful, minus the horrid bumps again. We got back around 3pm, exhausted and sick of being in a car. I quickly retreated to a hotel for some much needed internet time, and my first meal of the day. Then Jessica and I were off to Bertin’s house to meet his wife and five daughters. They are all sweet and adorable, and from our short visit I learned that they love lollypops and learning English. Hopefully there will be many more visits to come! After another lovely walk home I continued to decorate my room (yes those photos are coming in handy, ladies!) before passing out very, very early.

Wednesday: We started the day visiting three health centers in Nyabihu district, fortunately all much easier to reach than Shyira. Afterwards, we were off to Gisenyi, a lovely town on the bank of Lake Kivu. Driving into Gisenyi, the view is breathtaking, dominated by Nyiragongo, an active volcano which last erupted in 2002. The next sight is the red-roofed city of Goma in the Democratic Republic of Congo., which borders Gisenyi on the bank of the lake. We wandered around the market and stopped for lunch at a great outdoor restaurant for cold fantas, a yummy corn and bean concoction, and the tastiest boiled meat soup I’ve had. Afterwards we stopped at the local Muzungu store where three incredible things happened. 1) I bought the best samboussas that exist in Rwanda; 2) I discovered good ole Smuckers grape jelly all the way in Africa(!) and 3) I almost literally ran into Evangeline Lilly (yep, from Lost) contemplating the chocolate selection. After our brush with all things wonderful, we headed out of town, stopping at Bertin’s property to visit his cows. Yep, cows! There were cows of all shapes, colors and sizes, including one calf who we quickly fell in love with. After a photo shoot (which happens far too often in this country) we headed back to Musanze, where I met up with some PCVs who were in town for a conference. Unfortunately I couldn’t stay long, but fortunately I was headed for dinner at the CCHIPS house, where salad (god, I love salad), carrot soup and sweet potato fries were on the menu; followed by tea, chocolate and girl talk. Looking forward to many more days and nights like those.

So there you go. Time spent, time wasted, good times, bad times. Time. Apologies if this entry bordered on the mundane for some of you, but many of you have asked me what my daily life is like now that I’m at site working, and I think this proves that there’s no way to explain it in general terms. But I’m truly enjoying the spontaneity and the different experiences each day brings. Here’s to many, many more to come…

Some parting thoughts:

- I’m running low on shampoo and body wash; maybe I should consider cutting back on the frequency of my bucket baths.

- Our driver, Bonesa, has We Wish You A Merry Christmas as his ringtone. I can’t help but giggle every time it rings.

- I’m continually impressed with so many people’s abilities to conduct business simultaneously in three languages. I’ve got English down, and am beginning to understand a fair amount of Kinyarwanda. Maybe I should brush up on my French?

- On my daily walk to the hospital I pass a large cornfield where children without fail emerge to wish us a good morning (regardless of whether it’s in the morning or evening). Jessica has begun referring them as “The Children of the Corn”. I think I’ll keep the name.

- I slept in until 10:30am! It’s a modern Peace Corps miracle, which I an pretty much solely attribute to going to sleep around 5am. Yes, Rwandans know how to party. And bust some sick dance moves.

- Jessica has an idea, to make a coffee table book entitled “The Many Faces of Rwanda” featuring snapshots of Rwandan faces as they pass us, which have seriously included every possible expression known to man.

- Pilipili (the cat) spent her first night outside, doing who knows what. All we know is she spent the rest of the next day disoriented and confused, then killed a lizard in my room, then slept on my lap for the entire evening, purring up a storm presumably in the hopes that we wouldn‘t make her spend another night outside. Poor cat, I need a KittyCam.