Dear…

Dear neighbors: Despite having a separate electricity bill it seems that if you do not pay your electricity bill my power and water go out too. Let’s be a little bit more punctual about paying, shall we? Although, I did get a one night mini vacation in Americaland where I enjoyed good food, fast internet and a hot shower. So I can’t be too mad at you.

Dear counterpart: You might need to think about a new automatic response to anything I say. It works for when I tell you I’ve finished a report or need to take a day off to go to Kigali. But when I say “I’ll be right back, I’m going to use the bathroom” maybe you should say something other than an enthusiastic “oh, that’s great!”

Dear library: Every day I discover another positively amazing thing about you. Most recently was the realization that I will never again lack for an outlet for my obsessive compulsiveness. Especially as long as I’m still teaching the kids and the librarian the art of putting the books back so that all of the spines face the same direction, let alone alphabetizing by author.

Dear owner of Volcana: I might never get used to your profuse amounts of affection but I can get used to the free cognac when Eli and I come in for Thirsty Thursday drinks. And I like that despite being Moroccan, you are seriously impressed, just like a Rwandan, when I speak Kinyarwanda to you.

Dear self: I believe it’s perfectly acceptable that you attempted to ignore the man next to you on the bus (who was giving you a play-by-play translation of the news and a tour of the Northern Province) by turning up the volume on your iPod and keeping your left eye closed so that he would think you were asleep.

Dear Mother Nature: There was a rumor going around that in December and January a short dry season appears. And yet, here we are, well into December, and it seems the rainy season is continuing, with newfound determination even. Care to explain?

Dear woman I passed on my way to the library: I guess you had every right to laugh at me; I did have 12 children grabbing at my hands, arms, bag and hair while jabbering away to me in Kinyarwanda. But I had every right to laugh at you too; considering you were carrying an umbrella…on your head.

Dear all the men who work in the carpentry area of town: It seems it’s strange for you all to see a woman in your section of town, even more strange to see a white girl, and unheard of to see a white girl pay 200 francs for a bag of wood chips. If you only knew I use them for my cats litter box.

Dear official stamp of the District of Musanze: It took me weeks to track you down and only got you after an impromptu meeting (and subtle pleading) with the Mayor. Then you arrived, in an engraved black box, with your own personal bodyguard (Mayor’s receptionist) and weren’t able to be used unless you were in her presence. You are like the Rwandan Holy Grail.

Dear self (again): Do not, I repeat, DO NOT accidentally leave your kerosene stove on all afternoon while you’re at work. Not only does it waste petrol, but it’s SO not safe. Bad self.

Dear Taylor Lautner: I know this is very, very wrong for me to say at my age, but mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Dear mosquitoes: No one else in my region has mosquito problems, so why do you love my house so much? Please, for your sake and mine, GO AWAY.

Dear sushi: Oh how I miss you. But our reunion might be sooner than we both envisioned. I’ve scoped out the possible sushi eateries in Zanzibar, Dar Es Salaam and Mombasa, which equals at least three opportunities for raw fish goodness over vacation. Commence the “I’m gonna devour you” happy dance.

Dear Trude and her random couch surfer friends: A thousand thanks for owning a pdf copy of every Lonely Planet written in the past 10 years. Sure is making my research for Amy and Andy’s European Adventure 2012 super easy.

Dear librarian: You’re teaching the kids English on a daily basis and showing the kids cartoons about hygiene. And then there was the week that you broke up the children by grade level so that you could give them age appropriate English vocab. You should have been teacher. Seriously. But I’m exceedingly happy that you’re our librarian instead.

Dear Muhabura Hotel: I sure do love your buffet lunch, especially when I get to watch 20 hungry Rwandans pile up food onto their plates. But next time we are having a luncheon with speeches can you maybe try not to blare horrible 80’s soft rock and country over the loudspeaker. It’s distracting, and I already have a hard enough time concentrating while listening to two hours of speeches in Kinyarwanda. Next time let’s skip the Dolly Parton, k?

Dear ladies who sell shirts near the Stella bus stop in Kigali: You’re kind of hilarious. And actually make me think that I speak Kinyarwanda. And after one short trip to you I pretty much doubled my Rwandan wardrobe for only $10. I’ll be back soon.

Dear feet: It’s rainy season, you deserve to be spotlessly clean. And yet you’re still not tan, you’re still only dirty. And you have no one to blame for this but me, and the fact that I have now adopted a Rwandan hygiene schedule. I’ll try to work on bathing more, promise.

Dear PiliPili cat: More than a few people have commented about how big you’re getting these days. Part of this might have to do with the fact that you’re not a kitten anymore. But I think most of it has to do with the fact that you’re becoming a fatty.

Dear yard: It seems there are perks to spending an entire morning clearing you of annoying, overgrowing weeds. It’s exercise, I got a tan, and I surprisingly found celery of all things growing amongst the weeds near my plantain trees. Yum yum yum.

Dear Christmas: As you’re drawing near I’ve been attempting to get myself into the holiday spirit. Today I tried listening to Christmas music all the way to Kigali. But it didn’t have the same effect, considering I was passing hill after hill of banana trees instead of hill after hill of snow. I’ll keep trying, but considering I’ll be spending Christmas Day on a safari in Tanzania, this isn’t looking too likely…

Dear Musanze District Library: You’re officially open! There were balloons and streamers, the Mayor ceremoniously checked out two books, and I miraculously avoided giving a speech in front of everyone. Took you long enough, but you were worth every struggle. Next challenge: English classes and science days. Nzagureba muri janvier. (I will see you in January).

Dear Papa wanjye, Mama wanjye na musaza wanjye: Umuryango wanjye, muzaza hano ku wa gatandatu! Murakaza neza mu Rwanda!! Ndishimiye cyane cyane PE!

Dear blog readers: I just want to take this opportunity to thank you for all of your support, love and well wishes this past year. Despite the constant ups and downs, my time in Rwanda has been an incredible experience and I’m looking forward to what the rest of my time here will bring. I’ll be traveling in Rwanda, Tanzania and Kenya with my family and friends until January 10th. Happy holidays, be safe, and I’ll be “seeing” you all next year!!