My sweet little
neighbor (bless her soul) came knocking on my door at FIVE O CLOCK THIS
MORNING! I haven’t been sleeping too
well lately and it seems like every time I get into a good, solid sleep,
someone wants to call my phone…or come and knock on my door…or bang on my
bedroom window to get me to come out and speak.
I wasn’t really in a deep sleep when she came so I heard her walk up to
my back door and call out, “Keza!” I
didn’t feel like removing myself from the warm comfort of my bed so I decided
that I would ignore her and pretend to be sleeping. Apparently they don’t care much about waking
people up in Rwanda because not even 10 seconds passed before she said my name
a dozen times and went back and forth from the door to my room window yelling,
“Keza!...Keza!...Mwaramutse Keza!...Keza! Mwaramutse!...” Coming to the
realization that this woman wasn’t going anywhere until she got a response out
of me, I shouted back, “Mwaramutse” (good morning). After achieving her goal of waking me up
entirely too early, my neighbor proceeded to tell me to open the door so she
could give me some water. Uhmm…are you friggin kidding me??! Water at
5am??! I finally decided to get out
of the bed at this point and open my back door to show this lady that I had
water and didn't need any. I appreciate
her efforts in making sure I have this basic necessity, but it would be lovely
if she could find a better time to do it..
5am is absolutely positively out of the question and NOT okay.
*
* * *
*
Today at our 7am
staff meeting, there appeared to be a lot of
hostility between everybody and I
wasn't quite sure what the problem was.
I couldn't really understand everything that was being said, but I did
notice a bunch of eye-rolling, shouting, and people shoving papers at one
another. The only things I was able to
pick up on were dollar amounts. Once the
meeting ended, one of the nurses asked me if I understood what was going
on. I told her no and she told me that
they were talking about their salaries.
Apparently everyone was unhappy with the numbers for this month. I'm not sure how much they get paid, but
apparently it's not enough. By the end
of the staff meeting, there were no longer any smiling faces; only scowls,
frowns, and wrinkled foreheads.
*
* * *
*
Next up, one of
my colleagues (who is helping me get some furniture made so I can stop living
on the floor) drove me around to a million different carpenters so that I could
finally place an order. The carpenters
were definitely trying to overcharge me since I'm a "muzungu"
(foreigner), but he made sure to bargain on my behalf so that I don't end up
flat broke after this whole furniture ordeal.
I still kind of think I'm paying too much, but I grew tired of going
back and forth, back and forth between different carpenters, so I finally
settled on a price and agreed to pick up my furniture in two weeks! Yayy! I
will finally have a dresser, a wall
unit, and a table to put in my house...you have no idea how tired I am of
living out of these two suitcases!
*
* * *
*
So the guy who
took me around to the different carpenters kind of held me hostage for the rest
of the day. We had to go greet his wife,
then run a few errands, then go to see his HUGE (Castle-type) house, then go to
the market...the list goes on. I was so
burnt out by the time I finally made it back home. But here's the kicker of everything. He suggested that I go to the market with his
wife, which was no problem, but I was terribly tired and didn't really feel like
walking. But since I'm supposed to be
integrating and forming meaningful relationships, I obliged and decided to go
with the both of them to the market. We
went outside and as I approached the moto so that he could drive us all to the
market, he proceeded to say, "You will both walk to the market, and I will
ride on the moto because I am a man."
Uhmm...excuse me?? I thought to myself. The market is definitely not around the
corner and I'm pretty sure the fact that you're a man means that you should be walking while we enjoy our
hair blowing in the wind as we are driven
to the market on the moto. Instead
of blurting out all of the thoughts in my head, I chuckled to myself at the
cultural differences between here and America.
The definition of a gentleman is completely different here; and more
often than not, the men get all of the comforts that society has to offer,
while the women are the ones who do all of the catering and "dirty
work"...and apparently all of the walking.
*
* * *
*
For the last
activity of the day, my coworker decided he wanted me to go out and have
brochettes at the bar with him and his wife.
When we got to the bar, I was greeted by the very unpleasant sound of a
helpless goat baaing for help. I wasn't
quite sure if I was hearing things or if they were really about to kill a goat AT
THE BAR (talk about fresh meat) so I turned toward the sound, but saw
nothing...just a wall separating me from the tragic murder that was about to
take place. More out of surprise than
really wanting to know the answer, I said in a question form, "Ihene??
(goat??) My coworker said, "Yes,
they will kill it." I don't know
why, but this absolutely positively grossed me out. I am in no way vegetarian and I believe 100%
in eating animals, but I was not too thrilled at the fact that I was about to
eat the very same goat that I just heard pleading to not be killed, grilled,
and eaten. Long story short...Once we found a table, I sat down, had a Fanta,
and when the brochettes came out, I dug right in. I think that might have been the best goat I've
had since being in Rwanda...and I'm sure the fact that it was as fresh as fresh
can get is what made all the difference.
Love and Peace
Corps,
Dametreea
P.S. En route to visiting one of the carpenters,
my coworker decided to take a shortcut on the moto (up a very high, very steep)
hill and I'm sure you can imagine what happened as soon as he tried to tackle
it. Yep, we tipped over! And as we were tipping (in what felt like
slow motion), he said, "It is okay.
Do not have fear." I'm sure
you can imagine the thoughts that were going through my head, but instead of
saying everything that was on my mind at the moment, I said in my best
I'm-not-scared voice, "I do not have fear.
I am okay." Lord knows this
was a lie...I thought my life was over!
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