Speaking of Love...

I'm just getting home from a wedding that I was invited to a few days ago.  I think I've finally gotten the three ceremonies down.  One is a ceremony in which the bride and groom's fathers give one another gifts, the second is of the signing of the marriage documents, and the 3rd is a reception-type ceremony with food, drinks, dancing, music...you know...regular reception-type activities.   I'm assuming the ceremony I went to today was the one where the two father's exchange gifts, but I'm not too sure since I was two hours late.  The wedding began at 10, however the student I went with came to get me at 12.  The bride is her friend and since she was going, I figured I would wait until she was ready so I wouldn't have to go alone. 

When we arrived, we were ushered to two seats in the  back of the church and asked what kind of Fanta we wanted to drink.  I asked for my usual Orange flavor (which never came, by the way) and then focused my attention on the happenings at the front of the room.  For the short time that I was there (about 1 hour), here is what happened:

Love Struck

Here are a couple of funny (or unfunny) run-ins I've had with love (and like):

"She's My Sister"

I think it's officially safe to say that men are the same everywhere...whether in America or Africa; Arizona or Rwanda, they still insist on lying and playing childish games.  There are about four students who live in the row of houses behind my house and one of them introduced me to her boyfriend a couple of weeks ago when he came to visit.  Ever since then, she's been telling me, "My boyfriend wants to greet you on the phone...when can he greet you??"  Finally one day, she came to my house on the phone and told me that her bf was on the other line.  We greeted one another in English (he speaks English really well) and then I passed the phone back to the girl.  No sooner than she placed the phone next to her ear, she passed it back to me.  Here is how the conversation went:

Me: Yes?

Him: Text me your number, I want to visit you.

Me: When you come to visit your girlfriend, you can both come to visit me.

Him: My girlfriend?  She told you she's my girlfriend?

Me: Yes.

Him: She is not my girlfriend, she is my sister.  Text me your number.

At this point I laughed and passed the phone back to the girl.  She and her "brother" said their goodbyes and then I told her what he said (this conversation was in broken Kinyarwanda since she doesn't speak much English):

The LONG "Short" Walk

One of the Pastor's from  church has been asking me, every single Sunday, when I will come to her house to visit her and her husband.  Finally, I obliged and decided to go on Saturday.  We arranged for a time and the translator at the church told me that he would accompany me.  I didn't know where the Pastor's house was and we wouldn't have been able to have much of a conversation beyond greetings and the topic of food, so I welcomed the translator's company on the journey.  When Saturday, 3pm finally rolled around, myself and the translator started on our way...

...and this is where the adventure began...

Since our mode of transport would be legs, I asked the translator, "Is her house close?" He responded, "No, it is not close."  Then he quickly added, "But it is not very far."  I should have stopped right there and read between the lines, but instead I paid his words no mind.  Not to mention, while we were at church on Sunday, I do remember the Pastor telling me to ride a bike to her house, but again, I paid this no mind.  It can't be too far, right?? I thought to myself.

I couldn't have been more wrong. 

Precious Moments II

More precious moments...

You Are the Limousine of Cars

Four months after all of the jokes from my sister about my "Africa wardrobe," I have finally come to the conclusion that she was absolutely WRONG!  My coworkers seem to love every outfit I put on and they swear up and down I bought all of these clothes here in Rwanda--there's just no way America has all of these wonderful prints and styles.  It's looking like mission Saver's was a success (shout out to my mom)!! lol

One day, one of my coworkers went so far as to say, "Keza, wambaye neza (dressed nicely)...do you know limousine??"  After I confirmed that he was talking about the fancy, long, black car, I responded, "Murakoze (thank you)...yes, I know limousine."  Then he proceeded to ask, "In America, limousines are very nice??"  Again, I said yes and he said, "Well then, you are the limousine of cars."  I responded with a bashful, "Thank you" and proceeded to have a limousine day of days.  (:

Welcome Back!

After being away from my village for a very long and much needed weekend, I never would have imagined I could be so missed.  When you leave the village, everyone and their mama seems to find out so when I came back and walked into work on Monday morning, I felt like I was the favorite little cousin who had left for weeks.  I walked into the morning staff meeting to "Keza!!!! Welcome back!!!" and a million hugs, high fives, and burning cheeks from smiling so hard.  It gets harder and harder for me to ask myself, what am I doing here? when I have all of this waiting for me at work every day.  When I see all of their smiling faces, I know exactly what I'm doing here.  If in these two years all I did was make them smile, my mission will still have been accomplished.  All I want to do is make a difference, and with them I think it's safe to say I already have.

Rwandan Mama's

Precious Moments I

Here are some cute little moments and reasons why I love Rwanda sooo very much!  I have never (before here) met such a people who will embrace you and take you in as their own, knowing nothing more about you than the fact that you are from America.  It's little moments like these that make me feel right at home and so happy that the Lord (and Peace Corps) decided that Rwanda was the best country for me to serve in!

Wellness Check

Me and this not having a fridge thing is hardly working.  I do my best to cook just enough for two meals (lunch and dinner), but sometimes I have a little extra and seeing how I absolutely positively hate to waste food, after letting it sit out all day and/or all night, I end up eating the last little bit.  Well last night something certainly didn't agree.  I don't know if it was the leftover food or the pineapple that I had cut earlier in the day, but something definitely stirred up a rumbly in my tumbly.  I woke up this morning feeling a little under the weather, but I decided to go to work anyway (I spend too much time alone in this house as it is).  As the day progressed, my tummy ache progressed and I eventually told one of my coworkers that I didn't feel well and was going home.  I went home with the intent to nap and rest until I felt better, but just as I had fallen into a peaceful slumber, I heard two people knocking on my door and hollering out, "Keza!! Keza!!!"  When I didn't come to the front door, they went around to the front window and then to the back door to get me to open up.  I didn't feel much like being bothered since I wasn't feeling well, but I got up and went to open the door anyway.  And what did I see?? Two of the nurses from the health center coming to check on me to make sure I was feeling okay and didn't need anything.  In a broken English, one of them said, "We came to see the situation with you."  This warmed my heart.  These two women had no obligation to come and check on me, yet they came anyway, realizing that I am here all alone and have no one to take care of me, but me.  I really appreciate them and their care.  Before they left, one of the nurses said that she was going home to cook and would bring me some food (at least I think that's what she said, this was in Kinyarwanda). My final thoughts on this?? I heart Rwanda...and the people (:  I really do!

Safety and Security