A week in the life.

What a week. I’ve been in Musanze since Monday, and my first week at site can only be described as bipolar. I’ve experienced just a taste of what’s to come during the next two years; you know, all those cliché phrases people use when describing new, exciting, and often frightening experiences (ups and downs, a rollercoaster of emotions, etc). I felt welcome and happy and laughed and correctly understood and spoke Kinyarwanda (yay!). But this was inevitably followed by feeling awkward and confused and staring blankly at someone because I didn’t understand a word coming out of their mouth (boo!). Moments of success were met with moments of failure; moments of feeling at home were followed by moments of utter homesickness. But overall, I can see myself truly loving it here. But, as all things in this country, it will take time; or as they say: buhoro buhoro.

I’ve started to settle into my house, which I must say, is rather fantastic; five rooms: two bedrooms, a living room, a storage room and a bathroom (with running water…most days). It has bright green floors, lots of windows and a huge backyard with avocado and plantain trees. Unpacking was a challenge, since the only furniture currently in my room is a bed. A rug has become my “dresser”, several pegs on the wall are now my “closet”, I’m using a basket as my “bedside table”, and Ziploc bags have surprisingly made a lovely “vanity”. Jessica, a current health volunteer, has lived in the house since August, and it has been a lifesaver to have her here during my “adjustment phase”; unfortunately, she’s moving to Kigali in a couple of weeks. That’s when the true experience will begin, as she won’t be around to answer my endless stream of questions, be my personal tour guide of Musanze, or translate for me when the children in our neighborhood can’t understand why I don’t speak Kinyarwanda anywhere near as fluently as she does.

I started work, visiting several health centers, reviewing documents and drafting a plan for some of the activities I might complete during my time here. It’s exciting knowing that there is so much that I can do, but daunting not having a clue where to start. The staff members I’ve met so far at the health centers seem nice, hardworking and dedicated; but it’s frustrating since I generally exhaust my Kinyarwanda knowledge within the first five minutes of meeting them. Luckily, there was also a fair amount of downtime this week, which in any other situation would correspond to boredom, but after 10 weeks of nonstop training let me tell you, it was definitely needed. The effects of this downtime are most evident on facebook where I’m sure most of you have noticed all the new photos I’ve been able to add recently. Enjoy! My parents and brother will be equally excited to know that it’s also given me time to research their December trip here, which is currently dubbed “The Studenic’s African Invasion”.

So, I can’t lie, I’ve found myself scared to leave my house at times. Embarrassing, I know. And ok, scared is the wrong word. Nervous is more appropriate. In my house, I can just be boring, American Amy. I watch movies, read gossip magazines, write letters home, snack on trail mix or girl scout cookies (yes, I still have girl scout cookies, gonna make those things last!), and play with the cat. But once outside my gate, I’m Muzungu Amy. For a foreigner, anonymity does not exist in this country. Everywhere I go, I’m watched; every move I make is scrutinized. My hair, my clothes, my everything is discussed in minute detail. People know about me before I even meet them. And this is after only one week.

Water, it seems, could be an issue. It hasn’t rained in days (which in itself is a mystery, as the three things I heard about Musanze were 1) it’s beautiful, 2) it’s cold and 3) it rains all the time) and we’ve spent the past few days waterless. We tried the sink, nothing. We tried the shower, nada. We tried the spicket out back, ntatyo. We’ve been thirsty, we’ve been dirty, we’ve had a great excuse not to wash our dishes or clothes. But it is technically still the rainy season, so I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a tad nervous about what the dry season has in store for me.

Cooking has also been interesting. I haven’t bought kerosene yet for my kerosene stove, so have been using Jessica’s electric hotplate, which turns out is more difficult than I originally anticipated. I failed miserably at cooking curried lentils, but had amazing success making grilled cheese and mustard sandwiches (ok, Jessica had success, mine turned out to be a crumbly, but delicious, mess) and pasta with cheesy bacon sauce. Yes, yes, I said bacon. Pre-cooked, Boar’s Head, all the way from America (thanks to fellow PCV, Penny, for sharing!). By the way, whoever sends pre-cooked bacon to me in a care package will be my new best friend. And get a handwritten thank you letter covered in Rwandan postage stamps. So, needless to say, cooking will have to be an acquired skill (again, buhoro buhoro), but I feel I have a lot of sandwiches in my future, no cooking required.

So that’s week one in a glance. I promise another update soon, but until then I’m going to enjoy the beautiful view of the volcanoes, free and fast internet, and some yummy sweet gingery African tea.


A funny thing happened on the way to mu mujyi:

- I set up my water filter and made water (yes, in Rwanda, “making water” is an activity, a time consuming one at that), only to wake up the next day to a flood in my storage room caused by my leaky water filter. Fail #8,712.
- Jessica and I were paraded in front of 100 community health workers and introduced: her as the (married) man’s fiancée and me as his little sister (pretty sure I got the better end of that deal). Oh, and after that we were paraded into another room and introduced to another 100 community health workers in the same exact way. At least we got free coke and fried doughnuts afterwards.
- A casual comment from Jessica to me about the fact that we need to go to the carpenter this week to order me furniture turned into her mentioning it to her Rwandan friend Janvier, who immediately called the carpenter to tell him what I want, which was quickly followed by the carpenter showing up at our house to see what I wanted, negotiating a price (and by negotiate I mean I sat there and smiled while the Rwandans figured it out), and finalizing the order. Within 20 minutes it went from a “thought” to me having a couch, chairs and table that will be ready by next Wednesday. Half of the payment is due tomorrow.
- I thought it was going to be a quiet Sunday. Penny and I had made yummy pasta and were enjoying the Sex and the City movie. Within a few hours 15 children had invaded the compound, climbing trees, weeding, and helping pick avocados (while of course still staring at me confused on why I didn’t speak Kinyarwanda). This was followed by four Rwandans (including the carpenter) quizzing me with Kinyarwanda vocabulary and our two American friends dropping by mid-jog to share our sweet potato chips and guacamole. Yep, just another quiet Sunday.
- I just spied two lizards playing around on my windowsill and chasing each other. How adorable. Just kidding, not playing. It was actually foreplay, in fact. Yikes.
- Remember how I mentioned that it hadn’t rained in days? Well it’s now pouring, lightning and thundering. Maybe I’ll go check and see if the water is working.