Colder than Cold

I would have expected any country in Africa to be anything but cold, however this certainly is not the case in Rwanda.  I am freezing!!  As of late, I have been sleeping with leggings under my pj's and wrapping a blanket around me before scooting inside of my sleeping bag.  It feels like winter time in Arizona here right now, which for me, is pretty cold.  I asked my language and culture trainer if this is Rwanda's winter season and she told me no.  Although the climate is never really 'hot' (in the Arizona sense of the word), it is rare for it to be this cold outside at the end of June.  Mid day hits around 70 degrees (I think) and the mornings and evenings seem to be between 50 and 60 (probably closer to 60).  At any rate, I absolutely positively hate bathing at this point in time because I take my bucket bath in the mornings, OUTSIDE, and I feel like all 10 of my toes and fingers are going to freeze and fall off by the time I'm finished!  My host mama boils my water for me in the mornings (which I absolutely love her for) and she usually cuts the boiled water with cold water so that I don't end up with 3rd degree burns all over my body.  For the past week or so though, I had to cut that out and ask her to stop adding so much cold water.  When I told her that, she looked at me and said, "But you'll burn."  I was like, "That's okay, in America we like hot water."  She just shrugged her shoulders, handed me the bucket of scalding hot water, and went on about her business.  Oh well, it's your body.  I'm sure that was the thought going through her head at that point...but in hindsight, at least I got my hot water :)

I can't complain about the weather too much though.  We have more beautiful days, than miserable ones.  Also, this 65/70 degree weather certainly beats the 106 degrees or so that Arizona has been having.  Like I tell everyone else here, things could be much worse.

Love and Peace Corps,

Dametreea

Language Proficiency Exam

This one is a little bit late, but I had a language proficiency exam about a week ago and did great!  I did better than I thought I would, scoring at Intermediate Low.  Most volunteers scored at novice high; we all have to score at Intermediate Mid by the time training is over.  This means I have about two solid weeks to master this language before I have my final exam.  I'm pretty sure I will be there though, seeing how I've been able to get pretty good at the language in the short 7 weeks that I've been here.  In the case that any of us do not meet the language requirements at the end of our 10-week training, we will be put on a language contract which will require us to work with a language tutor at our site.  After 3 months of being tutored, we will be tested again and if we are still not at the required level, we will be sent home.  Word on the street is that no one is ever really sent home; once you're at site and speaking Kinyarwanda all day, every day, you pretty much just start to pick things up.  I don't want to have to deal with a language tutor though so let's cross our fingers, say our prayers, and do our good luck dance so that I can ace the next test!

Love and Peace Corps,

Dametreea

My Little Neighbor Friend

(Written 6/29/12)

The cutest little boy came over tonight while I was talking to my mama and we talked about everything from gorillas to Chris Brown and Rihanna (this conversation was in Kinyarwenglish).  I used Kinyarwanda when I could, however his English was very good so the conversation flowed pretty smoothly.  I kind of chuckled when we were talking about the gorillas.  The last thing a person in America would want to be compared to is anything that resembles a monkey, but this little boy proceeded to tell me that Rwandans and gorillas are very much alike.  He told me that like Rwandans, the gorillas are very intelligent, carry their babies on their backs, and have breasts which they use to give their babies milk; they also make some sort of bed to sleep on that is much like that which humans use.  He also told me that just last week, there was a naming ceremony for a gorilla that was born and that this is a very important event in Rwanda.  After the gorillas, the little boy shifted the conversation to American pop culture...he told me all about how Chris Brown beat Rihanna and how that was very bad news in Rwanda because the people here really like Rihanna.  He also told me that Chris Brown beat up a Canadian rapper last week.  I said, "Drake?"  and he said, "Yes, Drake!"  I had just read that fun little fact on a blog website, but since I'm sure the little boy (whose name is Simon btw) does not have internet access, I asked him how he knew that...he told me he heard it on the radio.  It amazes me how fast and far rumors spread..this country is definitely not as behind as I would have expected it to be.  Simon named every singer and rapper from Beyonce to 50 Cent...I'm not sure why I was surprised that he knew who these people were, but I was. 

"Tomorrow We Will All Breastfeed"

(Written 6/29/12)

I'm feeling pretty darned good about myself right now!  I actually just had a full conversation with my host mom who speaks absolutely positively no English...zero...zilch...nada.  Meaning, I just had a conversation in Kinyarwanda and was able to get my point across!  Kind of, that is.  I was telling her about my day and that I have to be ready tomorrow by 7am to go and do Umuhanda (community service).  After this, I proceeded to tell her that tomorrow, I want to learn some Rwandan dances and that I want to teach her some American dances.  At least that's what I thought I said.  I said in Kinyarwanda, "Mama...me, you, Colline, and Clemance will dance tomorrow.  Tamika and her mom will come too."  After I completed my statement, with all smiles (I was very proud of myself for spitting out that mouthful of Kinyarwanda), my mama laughed like there was no tomorrow.  She said, "Are you sure?"  As it turns out, I said kubyara instead of kubyina.  Instead of saying tomorrow we will all dance,  I said tomorrow we will all breastfeed.  Talk about embarassing!  Haha! I don't have the slightest bit of milk in these breasts of mine so I'm sure she was wondering what kind of magic trick her little American would have pulled out of her hat this time!  After a short spell of laughter, I corrected myself (the best I could) and we agreed that we will teach each other some dances tomorrow...I can't wait!! First on my list to teach her is The Wobble!  Haha!  I'm so excited!!!  Stay tuned for updates!

Love and Peace Corps,

Dametreea

An Eventful Sunday

They liked their gifts!! Yayy!!!

My mom and big sis put together a care package for me and they included some gifts for me to pass along to my host family...two toy cars for the little boy, make-up for my two sisters, and an aluminum wallet for my host mama.  The aluminum wallet was a bit questionable though, as it has a man on the front cover with his shirt halfway unbuttoned and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.  I figured it was absolutely positively out of the question for me to give this to my mama as a gift, but I decided to ask my culture trainer if it would be okay.  Just as I figured she would, she laughed when I showed her the wallet and she said, "You probably shouldn't give that to your mom, maybe you can give it to your sister."  I had considered giving the wallet to one of my host sisters instead, but then that would leave my host mama with nothing and she is the person who has been doing practically everything for me since I've been here.  So I decided to take the risk and give her the wallet...with high hopes that she wouldn't mind the half naked man on the front.

After my bucket bath and just before leaving for church, I made my rounds to everybody's room and gave them their gifts.  I went into my 22 year old sister's room first and told her I had something for her from my mom and sister in America.  When she saw the make-up she lit up and said, tell your mama I said "Murakoze chane!"  (Thank you very much!)  She loved it!! Yess!! One down and 3 more to go...next I gave my other little sister her makeup and she, too, said thank you.  Next up was my little brother...as soon as he saw the cars he smiled so hard I wondered how his cheeks didn't hurt.  He took the package and opened it immediately, placing both cars on the ground and rolling them around back and forth; the smile never left his face.  And now for my host mama...I presented her with the wallet and waited for her reaction...

I.don't.want.to.talk.to.you.

After a long day of Kinyarwanda class, me and Caitie decided to go for a walk.  As we were walking along saying our mwiriwe's to all of the people we passed, we stumbled upon a pile of huge rocks and boulders.  We decided to sit down and as we were chit-chatting away minding our own business, a couple kids came along.  Without thinking twice, the kids looked us dead in our eyes, reached out a hand with the palm facing up, and said, "bombo."  I sighed as I looked down at my bag and realized that the candy I thought I had hidden so well was showing through the mesh part of my backpack.  Of course I'm terrible at saying no so I gave the kids one "bombo" each, and without saying thank you, they ran off happily.  The next thing I knew, there were about 10 kids standing off to the side of us and whispering and chuckling.  Me and Caitie were laughing hysterically at a story I was telling her, and although the eves-dropping kids couldn't understand, they were laughing just as hard.  We found it funny that they were laughing so we laughed harder...and then the kids proceeded to laugh even harder.  Once all of the laughter ceased, one of the kids asked in English, "What time is it?" I said, "4:05."  And then the kid asked again...and again...and only seconds later, again!  So I let out a frustrated, "4:05!"  and the kids started laughing again and saying a whole bunch of randomness in Kinyarwanda that we couldn't understand.  Me and Caitie got the idea that the kids were being malicious and saying things that they were certain we wouldn't understand, so we (childishly, might I add) stooped to their level and played along.  The next kid who spoke directed his statement at Caitie and her response was

Gecko...IN MY BED!!!

And I thought bed bugs were bad...that was before I found a Gecko in my bed!  And INSIDE of my mosquito net!!! I think this takes the cake for my wildest most scary experience in Rwanda thus far!  It happened a few nights ago like this:

Since my host family goes to bed right after dinner, I find the time alone just before I go to sleep to be very relaxing and stress relieving--alone time is very rare and hard to come by as a Peace Corps Volunteer.  On this night, though, after reading my Word and giving thanks to the Lord for bringing me through yet another day, I decided to study my language a little bit since we have a language exam coming up soon.  I was sitting in the middle of my bed cross-legged when suddenly I felt something crawl up my back! I dropped my pen and grabbed my shirt to shake it out and hopped to the opposite side of my bed.  When I turned around to see what on Earth had just violated me in the comfort of my own bed, I saw a 4 or 5 inch long

Mystery Meeting

I'm all done ranting and raving now.  I probably seem a bit bipolar seeing how my last post (just 12 minutes ago) was anything but positive, but this blogging thing is quite theraputic!  But more than that, for those who are living vicariously through my Peace Corps experience, I would like to share a story about my time at a "mystery meeting" before I forget everything that happened.  So here it goes...

So I'm in my room trying desperately to have some alone time and my mama comes and knocks on my door...yet again...and says, "Dah-meh-tree-ahhh! Turagenda!!"  (let's go).  I don't even bother to ask where, I just put on my shoes and get ready for God knows what.  So as we're walking along on our far away journey, me and my mama are stopping to talk to what seems like every single person we pass.  Finally we arrived at whatever it was she was taking me too and as soon as we walked up, I noticed a living room and front yard full of small benches and people sitting everywhere.  I immediately noticed that the mood was a bit somber.  As I sat on a bench out in the front yard, I peered through the front door and noticed some people sitting on a couch, looking worn out and tired, and a woman who looked as if she had been crying.  Shortly after our arrival, some people started serving Fanta's and some anonymous drink in jerry cans with straws sticking out of the top (apparently the latter were to be shared because everyone began to take sips from the jerry can's and pass them around).  I prayed to God that no one would ask me to sip from that same straw and same jerry can that everyone else had drank out of, and just when I thought I was in the clear, the man next to me gestures for me to take a sip.  Let me say that I am not one to offend, and I have been pretty good about it so far, but this was one moment that I was just going to have to be considered rude.  I smiled politely and said, "No thank you."  He kind of just shrugged and passed the can in the opposite direction...whew *wipes sweat from forehead* it ended up not being that big of a deal.

After all of the guests of the great mystery event had either a Fanta bottle or a jerry can in hand, the same people who were passing out Fanta's began to pass out plates of food, and again, I didn't want to offend so although me and my mama had just eaten lunch and I was beyond stuffed, I took a plate and did my best to make the large and small pieces of food on my plate disappear.  Once I finished up, along with everyone else, someone stood up and began what seemed like a speech.  And then a man and woman stood up together and smiled at the crowd...and then I realized...this isn't a funeral, it's a

Irritated and Irritable

OhEmGee!!! If I were the type to curse and yell, I would have certainly threw a fit and had a moment by now!  Today has been...annoying!  I don't know what it is, but every little thing seems to be getting on my nerves and it is soooo very hard  to just smile and pretend like everything is okay.  My host mom is the sweetest person, but she has one more time to call my name.  "Dah-meh-tree-ahhh...come do this."  Dah-meh-tree-ahhh...come do that."  I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!! I love her to death, as well as the family, and that they have welcomed me into their home with open arms, but enough is enough.  Sometimes a girl just needs a little space and some quiet time.  We just came from a post-wedding ceremony (that I had no idea about until we got there) and that just put the icing on the cake for me.  I was in no mood to be stared at, which is what everyone did the WHOLE TIME!  I feel like I was the one getting married, instead of the bride and groom.  The eyes on me, the whispers, the "umuzungu's"...usually it doesn't bother me, but today...I can't even describe how I was feeling in that room and I won't even attempt to type out the thoughts that were going through my head; they were anything but nice.  I really just want to go to sleep right now and call it a night.  But...that wouldn't be the 'Peace Corps' thing to do.  So I'll just paste my smile on for a few more hours, do my best to entertain my family through dinner, and pray to God tonight before I go to sleep that tomorrow will be better.  Pray for me ya'll...I'm missing home...A LOT!

Love and Peace Corps,

Dametreea



(Written 6/17/12 5:52p)

Lost!

I guess an adventure isn't an adventure if at some point in time you don't lose your way.  I had actually come to terms with the fact that I would have to find my way back to the training site all on my own when one of my fellow volunteers called and told me that we should meet up and ride back together.  I didn't mind the company so I said okay and we agreed to meet up at the taxi stop in the major town between our two villages. (The taxis here are buses btw, kind of like Greyhound in America).  Our first bus took us to Kigali, about 2.5 hours away and then we had to find a taxi company that would be able to take us the rest of the way.  When we got to the ticket counter of one company, the volunteer I was with asked for a ticket to Kamonyi, which is the sector of our training site.  I interjected and told her that we needed tickets to Remera, but she said sternly, "No, I want a ticket to Kamonyi!"  I said okay and that I was going to get a ticket to Remera, which is a stop within Kamonyi.  (To say you want to go to Kamonyi is like saying I want to go to New York...well, where in New York??)  She stuck with her ticket and since the place we were at didn't have any tickets to Remera, I went around to about 3 different taxi companies until I finally found one that sold tickets to Remera.  When I got to the cashier to ask for my ticket, I was told that they didn't have anymore tickets to Remera.  Upon receiving this news, I decided to just go ahead and get the same ticket that this other volunteer got; afterall, it would be better to be lost with two people rather than alone.

Once our bus arrived,