Stale Bread and Hot Milk...My 4th of July Dinner

I'm not sure what the deal is, but I think it's safe to say that my  family is really roughing it.  On our dinner menu for tonight was none other than stale bread (resembling a crunchy hot dog bun) and hot milk with sugar (that I'm sure may have been a few days passed expired).  I'm not complaining though, at least I had food...but this certainly isn't anything close to what I was expecting for my 4th of July dinner.  Yes I know, the Independence of America isn't such a big deal in Rwanda, however, the 4th of July is also a holiday here, which is why I expected a little bit more than just milk and old bread to fill my tummy before bed.  The 4th here marks the end of the genocide (maybe the bread and milk symbolize something??); I'm not sure, but again, I guess I should just be happy that I had something to put in my tummy.

There was another holiday here a couple of days ago.  July 1st was the Rwandan Independence Day and to celebrate, there was a huge event at a stadium in Kigali at which many important people from various countries were in attendance.  I wasn't able to watch the ceremony on tv, as my family doesn't have one, so we listened on the radio (in English).  Apparently there were drummers, dancers, singers, and the like.  It would have been nice to be able to attend the ceremony, but since I wasn't able to, I'll just add that to my to-do list for next year. 

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I'm off to  bed now.  I'm catching a cold that was passed on to me from one of 4 trainees (I'm not quite sure who the culprit is since most of us are sick or have been sick on and off since day one).  Whatever this bug is, it keeps rotating within our group and after several weeks of successfully avoiding it, it finally got a hold of me.  My throat is terribly soar, I had a fever earlier today, and I feel like poop.  My host mama, being the sweet little lady that she is, keeps coming to feel my head to make sure I'm not too warm and says to me, "Komera" (be strong).  She even told me to sleep in an extra hour in the morning so that I can get better.  She's the cutest...but its times like these that I really miss my real mom.  There's nothing quite like having your own mother there to nurse you back to health and fix you up a concoction of her secret remedies.  I guess this is what growing up feels like...mommy won't always be able to run to my rescue.  But at least for now, I have a fill-in...and she's doing a darn good job!

Love and Peace Corps,

Dametreea

(Written 7/4/12 at 9:01p)