Sunday, December 18, 2011
Photo: Our Christmas Tree
Photo: The Christmas Wreath We Made
It was funny because I also had garland on the window sill outside next to it, but the next day it was gone. I'm pretty sure the workers thought it was trash and took it haha.
December 18: Lifestyle Changes 4-6
Hugs
Hugging is one of the many awkward experiences that a Westerner may have when living in Rwanda. When the Rwandese hug, they do this sort of reaching out to touch each others shoulders thing, followed by a hand shake. As you know, in America it is almost always one or the other. For the longest time I could never tell which one they were going for, and it made for some really awkward situations. Especially when I would just go in for the kill when I saw they wanted a hug, but then realized that they were keeping me at a distance. Then I would be so distracted by the fool I just made out of myself that I didn't notice the fact that I completely left them hanging on the whole hand-shake follow. Not to mention, whenever they shake hands, they don't intertwine the thumbs (whether you have noticed or not, we do that). They just sort of touch their hands, wrists, or forearms together. I have now perfected the method though, and wonder if I won't accidentally carry it on back in America.
Bugs
There are actually relatively few strange creatures that we deal with (thankfully). The most common are lizards (everywhere), small thick black spiders, mosquitoes and other flying pests (of course), and giant toads. Iman Ishimye (praise God) that there has only been one sighting of a snake. It was a two-headed snake that Andrew quickly got control of and cut both heads off of.
Anyway, about our second month here, we started getting dozens of bites a night, even though we were using the mosquito net. I was just positive every day that I would get Malaria because I thought they were mosquito bites. We finally realized that they couldn't be, as they were on every part of the body, even those covered with clothing. We ruled out bed bugs, and finally figured out that they were fleas. Drew had been making friends with a dog, and shortly after we started having this problem. Two weeks ago we took an entire day and using boiling water, washed, literally, every cloth item that we owned. Bags, rags, suitcases, shoes, clothing--EVERYTHING. Thankfully we have incredible workers that helped us. It was such an intense job, especially because everything is done by hand and then air dried. Not to mention it was boiling hot. When the storms started, we had to bring everything in and then put them back out when the sun came out again. We are now flea free though! Hopefully it will stay that way.
Thugs
I really only made this category because I couldn't think of anything else relevant that rhymed with "hugs" and "bugs," but actually, I suppose I have been exposed to this category. Technologically (I'm not referring to other ways), Rwanda is decades and decades behind America. Usually (though not always), crime in America is complicated and organized. Our movies consist of the most intense and complicated crime plots ever. Here, it seems like their crime is simple. They need something, so they take it.
Their way of dealing with crime is also fascinating. The court system is not nearly the thing that it is in America. I know that it exists, but I haven't heard a word about it, or seen any effects of it since we have been here. It seems like the way they deal with local crime is relatively primal. While our first impulse after a theft is to call the police, here that is not the case. If a thief is caught, those around him deal with him as they see appropriate to the crime. Usually the crime is theft, and the punishment is a good beating. Drew and I have experienced watching this a couple of times, actually. Just a week ago we were at the bus stop waiting, when we saw a crowd of people about 20 feet away from us shouting. We realized quickly that they were beating up some young man. I have never experienced anything like that. I grew up with all women, and we didn't even wrestle (Except for my sister Katie Beth, who beat me up on one or two occasions)! It was so surreal. After all the violent movies I have been exposed to, a "simple" beating really shook me up. There is something about seeing someones flesh actually being affected by the attacks of others in real life; hearing what it sounds like for someone to be kicked full force in the back or stomach. To see the real pain and anguish in someones face as they are outnumbered by a laughing crowd. I felt so helpless.
In some sense, you can see how they would have more "justice" than we have here in America. What happens for us is that the criminals get a slap on the wrist and maybe sent to jail for some time, where they bide their time until their release. There is no immediate gratification for the person that was affected. You can see how those here would feel as though justice had been served, and in earthly terms, it has been. It also shows how they think about community in keeping each other accountable. Even so, for someone who is used to what we would call "civilized" justice, it was a shock. I am very thankful that when I sin, that God does not see it, and expose it to the world for a public beating (although sometimes metaphorically that does happen). Instead, He shows me unmeasurable grace over and over again.
Julianna
Hugging is one of the many awkward experiences that a Westerner may have when living in Rwanda. When the Rwandese hug, they do this sort of reaching out to touch each others shoulders thing, followed by a hand shake. As you know, in America it is almost always one or the other. For the longest time I could never tell which one they were going for, and it made for some really awkward situations. Especially when I would just go in for the kill when I saw they wanted a hug, but then realized that they were keeping me at a distance. Then I would be so distracted by the fool I just made out of myself that I didn't notice the fact that I completely left them hanging on the whole hand-shake follow. Not to mention, whenever they shake hands, they don't intertwine the thumbs (whether you have noticed or not, we do that). They just sort of touch their hands, wrists, or forearms together. I have now perfected the method though, and wonder if I won't accidentally carry it on back in America.
Bugs
There are actually relatively few strange creatures that we deal with (thankfully). The most common are lizards (everywhere), small thick black spiders, mosquitoes and other flying pests (of course), and giant toads. Iman Ishimye (praise God) that there has only been one sighting of a snake. It was a two-headed snake that Andrew quickly got control of and cut both heads off of.
Anyway, about our second month here, we started getting dozens of bites a night, even though we were using the mosquito net. I was just positive every day that I would get Malaria because I thought they were mosquito bites. We finally realized that they couldn't be, as they were on every part of the body, even those covered with clothing. We ruled out bed bugs, and finally figured out that they were fleas. Drew had been making friends with a dog, and shortly after we started having this problem. Two weeks ago we took an entire day and using boiling water, washed, literally, every cloth item that we owned. Bags, rags, suitcases, shoes, clothing--EVERYTHING. Thankfully we have incredible workers that helped us. It was such an intense job, especially because everything is done by hand and then air dried. Not to mention it was boiling hot. When the storms started, we had to bring everything in and then put them back out when the sun came out again. We are now flea free though! Hopefully it will stay that way.
Thugs
I really only made this category because I couldn't think of anything else relevant that rhymed with "hugs" and "bugs," but actually, I suppose I have been exposed to this category. Technologically (I'm not referring to other ways), Rwanda is decades and decades behind America. Usually (though not always), crime in America is complicated and organized. Our movies consist of the most intense and complicated crime plots ever. Here, it seems like their crime is simple. They need something, so they take it.
Their way of dealing with crime is also fascinating. The court system is not nearly the thing that it is in America. I know that it exists, but I haven't heard a word about it, or seen any effects of it since we have been here. It seems like the way they deal with local crime is relatively primal. While our first impulse after a theft is to call the police, here that is not the case. If a thief is caught, those around him deal with him as they see appropriate to the crime. Usually the crime is theft, and the punishment is a good beating. Drew and I have experienced watching this a couple of times, actually. Just a week ago we were at the bus stop waiting, when we saw a crowd of people about 20 feet away from us shouting. We realized quickly that they were beating up some young man. I have never experienced anything like that. I grew up with all women, and we didn't even wrestle (Except for my sister Katie Beth, who beat me up on one or two occasions)! It was so surreal. After all the violent movies I have been exposed to, a "simple" beating really shook me up. There is something about seeing someones flesh actually being affected by the attacks of others in real life; hearing what it sounds like for someone to be kicked full force in the back or stomach. To see the real pain and anguish in someones face as they are outnumbered by a laughing crowd. I felt so helpless.
In some sense, you can see how they would have more "justice" than we have here in America. What happens for us is that the criminals get a slap on the wrist and maybe sent to jail for some time, where they bide their time until their release. There is no immediate gratification for the person that was affected. You can see how those here would feel as though justice had been served, and in earthly terms, it has been. It also shows how they think about community in keeping each other accountable. Even so, for someone who is used to what we would call "civilized" justice, it was a shock. I am very thankful that when I sin, that God does not see it, and expose it to the world for a public beating (although sometimes metaphorically that does happen). Instead, He shows me unmeasurable grace over and over again.
Julianna
Monday, November 21, 2011
Photo: Going out for a nice anniversary dinner
So here's the story. Completely characteristic of Drew's and my current record, all of our anniversary plans failed miserably:) Origionally we were going to take a reunion road trip (we went on a road trip for our honeymoon), but he couldn't get the motorcycle he has been fixing up and running in time, because business has been so heavy. Then we had planned another couple of things, but had some unexpected expenses come up, so we just decided to stay here and spend the day Sunday together, as its our usual tradition to do that anyway. We thought spending it in our cozy little room talking about memories would be great. As life on the mission field sometimes goes, we ended up entertaining guests for the majority of the day, so by the time we actually got out to go to dinner, it was dark, and thus the bad lighting. We had a great time though, and we still got to spend good time together. I told Drew, "who cares about all those 1-year anniversary traditions anyway? The cake would have freezer burn, and I would end up crying because I had gained weight and couldn't fit in my dress anymore." We always have fun when we are together, and therefore it was a wonderful day over-all!
November 21: After our First Anniversary : )
It is difficult for me to describe what one year married to the greatest man on the planet is like. I mean, its a privilege that only I have in all the world, so how can I even begin? Although I know my attempt will be far too inadequate, I will do my best.
Being married to Drew means:
-Having an incredible example of love and service for others. Every day.
-Being completely assured of his faithfulness and commitment to me. He is the most loyal person I know.
-I am appreciated for the work I do. He is always thanking me for cleaning, washing, cooking, etc.
-I get to be married to someone with whom I have so much in common, as far as interests go. I love that we love to do the same things. We have had some of the greatest times together on road trips, bummy movie days, camping trips, playing cards, going on walks, cooking together, etc etc etc.
-I am consistently encouraged to continue in my personal pursuits.
-If anyone heard him raving about my cooking, they would think that my food was comparative to the work of the greatest chef on planet earth. At the end of almost every meal he says, "This is the best meal you've ever made." I can't tell if he has found some way to justify saying that, or if miraculously my cooking skills are increasing every day.
-I get to be married to such a stud (he is so handsome!).
-I can confront him with various problems without fear of his being too easily offended, and with the assurance that he will do his very best to change.
-I am exposed to the quirkiest and most incredibly random actions ever. Seriously, I wish any one person could experience this aspect of my life.
-I never have to worry about him being vain or conceited. Haha this is sometimes to a fault, and I have to assign his brother to remind him to shave and shower for our wedding day:)
-I never have to call a plumber, electrician, mover, or handy-man to fix or do anything. Any kind of problem we have with our various homes, he can fix it.
-Speaking of, I never have to do horrible half-way hanging or decorating jobs anymore. He is great at getting pictures up straight and securely.
-I am assured that he thinks I'm beautiful (externally and internally).
-I get to experience some of the most genuine and tender acts of service. I could literally list hundreds of them. I have actually kept a list in my journal of many of them and was reading it over yesterday. I will give you one example. This past January, we were taking a group of friends snowboarding up in Boone, NC. Snowboarding is one of Drew's passions, but I don't enjoy it as much because I get so cold and wet. He knew I was worried about it, so after work one day (he always wants to come straight home because he is so tired from working so hard all day), he went scowering all of the relative stores in town looking for ski bibs for me. By the way, he despises shopping.
-I get to experience the beautiful combination of a realistic, but tending towards optimistic, outlook on life. It perfectly balances my realistic, but tending towards pessimistic viewpoint.
-I never have to be embarrassed because of his being lazy in his work. He is one of the hardest, if not the hardest, worker I know.
-Come to think of it, I never have to be embarrassed of him at all (except because of some of the really, really corny jokes he makes. Especially because the Rwandans don't even remotely get his sense of humor and it makes for some super awkward situations).
-I am forgiven and given exceptional grace over, and over, and over, and over again.
-I can completely be "myself" with him. This is not some weird self-discovery bit, but it just means that he accepts me for all of the various and sundry moods and phases that I go through. If I'm obsessed with avocados, he makes it a point to slip in avocados wherever he can. If I despise avocados because I puked them up, he thinks of all kinds of creative ways to tell people that we really don't want them. If I am very serious and thoughtful, he allows me to have that time and participates in conversations relating to that. If I want to think of every possible stupid dance move and display them while I listen to the i pod in our room, he voluntarily sits there watching and laughing for an hour.
-I can expect random gifts (even when I don't want them because of spending money) any time that he finds himself out and about alone.
-I am able to watch him consistently grow, mature, and become more and more a mighty man of God.
-Even though he is not a futuristic thinker like me, he will discuss future plans as often as I ask.
-I never have to worry about whether or not he will get along with my friends or family. He loves them all so well in very individual ways.
-I get to discuss theology with an incredibly wise individual. He puts me to shame with his knowledge of the contents of the Bible paired with his balanced way of thinking.
-I can be confident that anything free he finds (on the side of the road, dumpsters, etc) will come home with him. This is a gift and a curse, but mostly a gift. It means that a good 25% of our possessions we have gotten for free!
-I never have to feel afraid (physically) when I am with him. He is SO strong, and has been ready more than once to fight someone who was antagonizing me. One time I got robbed when I was all alone and I was even more thankful for his protection of me after that.
-If I ask him to help me, he never even hesitates or complains. Much of the time he volunteers it anyway.
-He can keep up intellectually with my deepest philosophical thoughts, and also my dumbest surface-level silliness.
-I am encouraged in my relationship with God and others, without being reprimanded or pushed too hard.
-Plans are fluid for him. If the plans change, or more often if I change my mind, he is 90% of the time up for anything. I never have to worry about him being cranky or complaining about it. He is so flexible and can really make any situation enjoyable.
-In fact, he is up for anything with anyone usually (remember when you took him yard-saling, HJ?).
-I can vent without fear of judgment. That doesn't mean he won't speak the truth to me, in love, but it means that I don't have to be worried about harsh responses.
-I get to hear the sweetest, most genuine comments without being concerned about it being verbal vomit. I really despise (and always have) the mushy gooshy verbal affirmations. But when you have a history with someone and the assurance of a lifetime commitment, everything changes. Especially when the really precious spoken things are much fewer than the actions, you can more assuredly know that they are true (plus, Drew is NOT afraid to tell me the truth or be straight up with me). Let me give one example that I remembered reading back in my journal. One day this past June, I had been really sick and throwing up. We were laying in bed and I said, "Drew, what if I throw up in the bed?" He said very gently, "I would pick you up, take you to the shower, and wash you off. Then I would change the sheets and carry you back to bed." It was so matter-of-fact, but so sweet! I believe with all my heart that is exactly what he would have done.
-I get to have the most wonderful companion for the rest of my life.
I admire and respect you so much, Drew! Happy 1-year anniversary!
Julianna
Being married to Drew means:
-Having an incredible example of love and service for others. Every day.
-Being completely assured of his faithfulness and commitment to me. He is the most loyal person I know.
-I am appreciated for the work I do. He is always thanking me for cleaning, washing, cooking, etc.
-I get to be married to someone with whom I have so much in common, as far as interests go. I love that we love to do the same things. We have had some of the greatest times together on road trips, bummy movie days, camping trips, playing cards, going on walks, cooking together, etc etc etc.
-I am consistently encouraged to continue in my personal pursuits.
-If anyone heard him raving about my cooking, they would think that my food was comparative to the work of the greatest chef on planet earth. At the end of almost every meal he says, "This is the best meal you've ever made." I can't tell if he has found some way to justify saying that, or if miraculously my cooking skills are increasing every day.
-I get to be married to such a stud (he is so handsome!).
-I can confront him with various problems without fear of his being too easily offended, and with the assurance that he will do his very best to change.
-I am exposed to the quirkiest and most incredibly random actions ever. Seriously, I wish any one person could experience this aspect of my life.
-I never have to worry about him being vain or conceited. Haha this is sometimes to a fault, and I have to assign his brother to remind him to shave and shower for our wedding day:)
-I never have to call a plumber, electrician, mover, or handy-man to fix or do anything. Any kind of problem we have with our various homes, he can fix it.
-Speaking of, I never have to do horrible half-way hanging or decorating jobs anymore. He is great at getting pictures up straight and securely.
-I am assured that he thinks I'm beautiful (externally and internally).
-I get to experience some of the most genuine and tender acts of service. I could literally list hundreds of them. I have actually kept a list in my journal of many of them and was reading it over yesterday. I will give you one example. This past January, we were taking a group of friends snowboarding up in Boone, NC. Snowboarding is one of Drew's passions, but I don't enjoy it as much because I get so cold and wet. He knew I was worried about it, so after work one day (he always wants to come straight home because he is so tired from working so hard all day), he went scowering all of the relative stores in town looking for ski bibs for me. By the way, he despises shopping.
-I get to experience the beautiful combination of a realistic, but tending towards optimistic, outlook on life. It perfectly balances my realistic, but tending towards pessimistic viewpoint.
-I never have to be embarrassed because of his being lazy in his work. He is one of the hardest, if not the hardest, worker I know.
-Come to think of it, I never have to be embarrassed of him at all (except because of some of the really, really corny jokes he makes. Especially because the Rwandans don't even remotely get his sense of humor and it makes for some super awkward situations).
-I am forgiven and given exceptional grace over, and over, and over, and over again.
-I can completely be "myself" with him. This is not some weird self-discovery bit, but it just means that he accepts me for all of the various and sundry moods and phases that I go through. If I'm obsessed with avocados, he makes it a point to slip in avocados wherever he can. If I despise avocados because I puked them up, he thinks of all kinds of creative ways to tell people that we really don't want them. If I am very serious and thoughtful, he allows me to have that time and participates in conversations relating to that. If I want to think of every possible stupid dance move and display them while I listen to the i pod in our room, he voluntarily sits there watching and laughing for an hour.
-I can expect random gifts (even when I don't want them because of spending money) any time that he finds himself out and about alone.
-I am able to watch him consistently grow, mature, and become more and more a mighty man of God.
-Even though he is not a futuristic thinker like me, he will discuss future plans as often as I ask.
-I never have to worry about whether or not he will get along with my friends or family. He loves them all so well in very individual ways.
-I get to discuss theology with an incredibly wise individual. He puts me to shame with his knowledge of the contents of the Bible paired with his balanced way of thinking.
-I can be confident that anything free he finds (on the side of the road, dumpsters, etc) will come home with him. This is a gift and a curse, but mostly a gift. It means that a good 25% of our possessions we have gotten for free!
-I never have to feel afraid (physically) when I am with him. He is SO strong, and has been ready more than once to fight someone who was antagonizing me. One time I got robbed when I was all alone and I was even more thankful for his protection of me after that.
-If I ask him to help me, he never even hesitates or complains. Much of the time he volunteers it anyway.
-He can keep up intellectually with my deepest philosophical thoughts, and also my dumbest surface-level silliness.
-I am encouraged in my relationship with God and others, without being reprimanded or pushed too hard.
-Plans are fluid for him. If the plans change, or more often if I change my mind, he is 90% of the time up for anything. I never have to worry about him being cranky or complaining about it. He is so flexible and can really make any situation enjoyable.
-In fact, he is up for anything with anyone usually (remember when you took him yard-saling, HJ?).
-I can vent without fear of judgment. That doesn't mean he won't speak the truth to me, in love, but it means that I don't have to be worried about harsh responses.
-I get to hear the sweetest, most genuine comments without being concerned about it being verbal vomit. I really despise (and always have) the mushy gooshy verbal affirmations. But when you have a history with someone and the assurance of a lifetime commitment, everything changes. Especially when the really precious spoken things are much fewer than the actions, you can more assuredly know that they are true (plus, Drew is NOT afraid to tell me the truth or be straight up with me). Let me give one example that I remembered reading back in my journal. One day this past June, I had been really sick and throwing up. We were laying in bed and I said, "Drew, what if I throw up in the bed?" He said very gently, "I would pick you up, take you to the shower, and wash you off. Then I would change the sheets and carry you back to bed." It was so matter-of-fact, but so sweet! I believe with all my heart that is exactly what he would have done.
-I get to have the most wonderful companion for the rest of my life.
I admire and respect you so much, Drew! Happy 1-year anniversary!
Julianna
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
November 9: Ride to Zaaffran's
This is us in Kigali, the capital, taking some taxi motos to our favorite place to eat in Rwanda. Oddly enough, it is Indian food. It is sort of a get-a-way for us. Taxi motos are our primary means of transportation in Kigali. They are so much cheaper than the car taxis.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
November 6: Marius
I have been reading Victor Hugo's Les Miserables for the last few months. While doing so, I have identified with a certain character from this book, Marius. Marius, for personal and political reasons, refused to receive charity from his grandfather and thus became poor and desolate. After struggling for some years, he worked his way back onto his feet, and is subsequently portrayed as a better man because of his sufferings.
Though our situation is quite different, and though our "sufferings" are better described as adjustments, I found comfort in the words Hugo penned describing Marius. At Marius' lowest point Hugo stated, "He was experiencing what perhaps the earth experiences at the moment when it is sliced with the iron blade so that the grains of wheat may be sown; it feels the wound alone; the thrill of the germ and the joy of the fruit do not come until later" (Hugo). These words described our pain and struggles so accurately that I shivered when I read it. At the onset of our time here, and many occasions since, we have felt in some way or another as Marius did. Even so, there are so many areas of growth that would not have come without first the blade; the initial pain is so minuscule in comparison with the fruit that comes after.
One of these fruits is the broadening of my understanding of the greatness of God. Greatness is, indeed, a vague idea, but it is necessary. However, it is important that our vague understanding of God's greatness comes not from laziness in study, cowardice in conversation, or from a stagnant relationship with God. Instead, it should come from a severe reverie that recognizes God's majesty, love, patience, etc, with the understanding that He is so much greater than our understanding of His majesty, love, patience, etc. These things are the only way in which we can describe or explain him in our human terms and minds, but we should begin our thoughts with the assumption that these are inadequate; He is always exponentially greater in each attribute.
This knowledge of God's greatness increases when I view myself in light of it. For example, in my frustration and impatience, I cannot help but to recognize God's infinite patience; not only with me, which is an unfathomable feat, but also with the entire world. And not only the entire world as it is now, but also with the world from creation until the end of time. All people at all times-- incredible. Similarly, in my hatred I am reminded of God's infinite love. A person who rapes and murders is, by earthly standards, worthy of our scorn and punishment, and on most occasions (whether "Christians" admit it or not), our hatred. God, on the other hand, has extended his love to all people without exception. This is somehow simple yet perplexing. It is a lesson for a child as well as a phenomenon to shudder at the thought of. His love is simple enough to comfort and warm a child, yet so complex that we can hold it in juxtaposition with any other example of love and see them pale in comparison.
A glimpse into my heart is this: a person's wounds are real, painful, and sometimes overwhelming. Some wounds are paper cuts, and some wounds are far more painful than any other mortal can sympathize with. However, the wounds of a believer, if tended to correctly, yield fruit, and we can take hope the hand that prunes and slashes is the hand of God.
Drew
Though our situation is quite different, and though our "sufferings" are better described as adjustments, I found comfort in the words Hugo penned describing Marius. At Marius' lowest point Hugo stated, "He was experiencing what perhaps the earth experiences at the moment when it is sliced with the iron blade so that the grains of wheat may be sown; it feels the wound alone; the thrill of the germ and the joy of the fruit do not come until later" (Hugo). These words described our pain and struggles so accurately that I shivered when I read it. At the onset of our time here, and many occasions since, we have felt in some way or another as Marius did. Even so, there are so many areas of growth that would not have come without first the blade; the initial pain is so minuscule in comparison with the fruit that comes after.
One of these fruits is the broadening of my understanding of the greatness of God. Greatness is, indeed, a vague idea, but it is necessary. However, it is important that our vague understanding of God's greatness comes not from laziness in study, cowardice in conversation, or from a stagnant relationship with God. Instead, it should come from a severe reverie that recognizes God's majesty, love, patience, etc, with the understanding that He is so much greater than our understanding of His majesty, love, patience, etc. These things are the only way in which we can describe or explain him in our human terms and minds, but we should begin our thoughts with the assumption that these are inadequate; He is always exponentially greater in each attribute.
This knowledge of God's greatness increases when I view myself in light of it. For example, in my frustration and impatience, I cannot help but to recognize God's infinite patience; not only with me, which is an unfathomable feat, but also with the entire world. And not only the entire world as it is now, but also with the world from creation until the end of time. All people at all times-- incredible. Similarly, in my hatred I am reminded of God's infinite love. A person who rapes and murders is, by earthly standards, worthy of our scorn and punishment, and on most occasions (whether "Christians" admit it or not), our hatred. God, on the other hand, has extended his love to all people without exception. This is somehow simple yet perplexing. It is a lesson for a child as well as a phenomenon to shudder at the thought of. His love is simple enough to comfort and warm a child, yet so complex that we can hold it in juxtaposition with any other example of love and see them pale in comparison.
A glimpse into my heart is this: a person's wounds are real, painful, and sometimes overwhelming. Some wounds are paper cuts, and some wounds are far more painful than any other mortal can sympathize with. However, the wounds of a believer, if tended to correctly, yield fruit, and we can take hope the hand that prunes and slashes is the hand of God.
Drew
Friday, October 28, 2011
October 28: Language Teaching and Learning
Looking back, I believe that we haven't related much information about either our progress in Kinyarwanda, or my students' progress in English. This is such a major part of our time here, so I will give a few glimpses into our experiences in these departments.
Learning Kinyarwanda:
The run down:
Learning Kinyarwanda is going very well for the most part. We are no longer taking lessons three days a week, as our language teacher moved to Gahini. She still comes about every-other-week, so we try to squeeze a lesson or two in during that time. The majority of what we learn comes from asking Frank questions and speaking in everyday life. In that way, most of the introductory level communication is becoming like second nature to us. It will be the next level that will be a challenge.
It is exciting because even though we can speak basics, we can understand much more. We are able to sit in on conversations and at least understand what they are talking about. Our word bank is getting fatter every day!
Stories:
After we adjusted Drew's presentation of me as his "leg," we found out shortly after that the slight adjustment was causing him now to introduce me as his "pair of shoes." haha so now we have gotten it correct for the last month and a half so that the majority of people we know understand that I am his wife.
One of the very confusing parts (out of many) of Kinyarwanda is that their word for "no" is "oya (pronounced 'oh-yea')." This has made for some very awkward situations ranging from the chef asking us if we liked the food to others asking us if we want something. One of those situations was when Frank asked Drew if he loved his wife. Drew answered quite emphatically, "ohhh yeaahhhhhh!!!!!" And everyone in the room just started dying laughing.
Teaching English:
The run down:
As a part of our business strategy, and even for functionality in day-to-day life, we started teaching English classes to the staff 7 weeks ago. We originally split the staff right down the middle into two classes based on their departments so that one department was never left bare. That meant that there were approximately 8 in each class. After about a week, our VERY enthusiastic assistant manager started inviting random people to join the class. I did not turn them out, mainly because I felt as though I couldn't decline when I already had the classroom and the lesson plans and was volunteering my time. It began to be a problem when he continued to bring people from the church, the market, etc. I finally told him after he brought me four new people during week 5, "Francois.....NO MORE NEW STUDENTS. We are too far along in our course to have beginners entering class!" haha so thankfully that has ended. Now I have about 15 students in the second class, while many students in the first class seem to "get a headache" every Tuesday and Thursday at about 2PM, and therefore I am lucky to get five.
I also have been to Morning Star School four times to do observations, but they have finished their exams and are on holiday until late in January. So, unless they ask me to come to teach seminars or anything, I will not go back again until January. I will try to write another time about my experiences there as it would be another big chunk of information.
My Methods:
The focus of the class is not an academic analysis of English. We are not doing much grammar or sentence structure. It is for function with us and with customers. Even so, I am here for a year, and I think after we get through the functional phrases of everyday life and hospitality lingo I will ask them if they want to continue. If so, then we will start to get into the nitty gritty of English. by then, they will have a good foundation to build off of.
Usually, I begin with everyone in the class saying the day and date together and reviewing bits of previous material. Sometimes I have easy ten-question quizzes. Then I present ten (usually) vocabulary words or phrases, and after we review them together and they write them, followed by focused (where they only have to fill in one piece of information) exercises and communicative exercises. Focused exercises are very difficult without access to printers and photocopy machines, so that part is almost always done orally. The communicative exercises are where the fun comes in. I can't even tell you how many hilarious episodes we have had as we practice the words in small groups or in pairs presenting to the class. It seems to have been very effective, and they are becoming more and more confident daily in their greetings and answering questions.
Stories:
Although it is certainly possible to teach a language without direct translations, it is 100x more difficult, in my opinion. Especially when there are not many resources available for pictures, etc. Imagine trying to explain abstract ideas or conjunctions without a translation in their language. You could point to an old woman washing clothes and they could think that you meant so many different options: "old woman" "washing clothes" "she is tired" "black woman" etc. You could point up to the sky and say "sky." They could interpret this as "sun," "clouds," "color blue," "it's going to rain," "weather," etc etc etc. This poses as a problem in countless situations. No matter how much intonation you use, it is so difficult to explain isolated words or parts of a sentence when they don't know the rest of the sentence. There is no frame of reference. Of course you could use 10 examples of what you are trying to communicate so that they are able to glean the word you are trying to communicate, but direct translations are much faster and easier.
Needless to say, I try to get the translations initially and then let them be creative with plugging in other words to model sentences and practicing them communicatively with each other and the class.
One of the most difficult parts of teaching for me is getting proper translations from English to Kinyarwanda. Everyone seems to have their own opinions about what is correct. The funny thing is, sometimes people are on completely different ends of the spectrum. One will say that something is correct, and the only option for being correct, while another says that that is not even remotely close to it.
One such instance was in the very first language lesson I taught. I asked our Kinyarwanda teacher to give me the word for "question" so that I could teach them both "question" and "answer," as those words are used daily in class. She told me that the word for question was "ikibazo." So I taught that word to the entire class and have been using it for the last seven weeks. About a two weeks ago I found out that it was also the word for "problem." That explained why I seemed to be hearing that word constantly. I was fine with the fact that it was used for both problem and question until an English speaker from Seeds of Peace in Gahini came about a week ago and the topic came up. He told me that ikibazo is not used for question at all, but only for problem!! He said another word was that I can't recall. I was a little distressed about this but was hoping that maybe in common use that it was still used for question, as I was recalling the last 5 weeks of asking them to repeat the "problem." The next day I was asking John Claude where one of our workers, Jaci, was. He said with his face scrunched up in thought, tapping the back of his head, "She has a....question...in her head." Oh dear.
Another instance was one day that I was teaching about conditions. We are always asking each other how we are so I was teaching, "tired" "hungry" "sick" "sad" etc. so that they could plug that into the sentence they already knew, "I am fine." It was a list of 10 different words all relating to how one was feeling. One girl, Josianne, in the first class, came in, and after reading the list she came up very quickly and deliberately pointing to the word for "busy," which was "guhuga." She scratched it out and added an "n" so that it was "guhunga." I assumed that must be correct and I had made a mistake since all 10 words were in the same category, therefore she must have inferred what I was trying to say. So I taught the class and everything went fine. When the second class came in, one student from the market who has joined (who speaks very good English, but has wanted to practice listening to my accent) came up and said, "umm... teacher.... you must mean to use 'guhuga.' This word 'guhunga' means to flee the country." haha I just laughed and laughed, and even now the first class tries to correct me when I say "guhuga."
Learning Kinyarwanda:
The run down:
Learning Kinyarwanda is going very well for the most part. We are no longer taking lessons three days a week, as our language teacher moved to Gahini. She still comes about every-other-week, so we try to squeeze a lesson or two in during that time. The majority of what we learn comes from asking Frank questions and speaking in everyday life. In that way, most of the introductory level communication is becoming like second nature to us. It will be the next level that will be a challenge.
It is exciting because even though we can speak basics, we can understand much more. We are able to sit in on conversations and at least understand what they are talking about. Our word bank is getting fatter every day!
Stories:
After we adjusted Drew's presentation of me as his "leg," we found out shortly after that the slight adjustment was causing him now to introduce me as his "pair of shoes." haha so now we have gotten it correct for the last month and a half so that the majority of people we know understand that I am his wife.
One of the very confusing parts (out of many) of Kinyarwanda is that their word for "no" is "oya (pronounced 'oh-yea')." This has made for some very awkward situations ranging from the chef asking us if we liked the food to others asking us if we want something. One of those situations was when Frank asked Drew if he loved his wife. Drew answered quite emphatically, "ohhh yeaahhhhhh!!!!!" And everyone in the room just started dying laughing.
Teaching English:
The run down:
As a part of our business strategy, and even for functionality in day-to-day life, we started teaching English classes to the staff 7 weeks ago. We originally split the staff right down the middle into two classes based on their departments so that one department was never left bare. That meant that there were approximately 8 in each class. After about a week, our VERY enthusiastic assistant manager started inviting random people to join the class. I did not turn them out, mainly because I felt as though I couldn't decline when I already had the classroom and the lesson plans and was volunteering my time. It began to be a problem when he continued to bring people from the church, the market, etc. I finally told him after he brought me four new people during week 5, "Francois.....NO MORE NEW STUDENTS. We are too far along in our course to have beginners entering class!" haha so thankfully that has ended. Now I have about 15 students in the second class, while many students in the first class seem to "get a headache" every Tuesday and Thursday at about 2PM, and therefore I am lucky to get five.
I also have been to Morning Star School four times to do observations, but they have finished their exams and are on holiday until late in January. So, unless they ask me to come to teach seminars or anything, I will not go back again until January. I will try to write another time about my experiences there as it would be another big chunk of information.
My Methods:
The focus of the class is not an academic analysis of English. We are not doing much grammar or sentence structure. It is for function with us and with customers. Even so, I am here for a year, and I think after we get through the functional phrases of everyday life and hospitality lingo I will ask them if they want to continue. If so, then we will start to get into the nitty gritty of English. by then, they will have a good foundation to build off of.
Usually, I begin with everyone in the class saying the day and date together and reviewing bits of previous material. Sometimes I have easy ten-question quizzes. Then I present ten (usually) vocabulary words or phrases, and after we review them together and they write them, followed by focused (where they only have to fill in one piece of information) exercises and communicative exercises. Focused exercises are very difficult without access to printers and photocopy machines, so that part is almost always done orally. The communicative exercises are where the fun comes in. I can't even tell you how many hilarious episodes we have had as we practice the words in small groups or in pairs presenting to the class. It seems to have been very effective, and they are becoming more and more confident daily in their greetings and answering questions.
Stories:
Although it is certainly possible to teach a language without direct translations, it is 100x more difficult, in my opinion. Especially when there are not many resources available for pictures, etc. Imagine trying to explain abstract ideas or conjunctions without a translation in their language. You could point to an old woman washing clothes and they could think that you meant so many different options: "old woman" "washing clothes" "she is tired" "black woman" etc. You could point up to the sky and say "sky." They could interpret this as "sun," "clouds," "color blue," "it's going to rain," "weather," etc etc etc. This poses as a problem in countless situations. No matter how much intonation you use, it is so difficult to explain isolated words or parts of a sentence when they don't know the rest of the sentence. There is no frame of reference. Of course you could use 10 examples of what you are trying to communicate so that they are able to glean the word you are trying to communicate, but direct translations are much faster and easier.
Needless to say, I try to get the translations initially and then let them be creative with plugging in other words to model sentences and practicing them communicatively with each other and the class.
One of the most difficult parts of teaching for me is getting proper translations from English to Kinyarwanda. Everyone seems to have their own opinions about what is correct. The funny thing is, sometimes people are on completely different ends of the spectrum. One will say that something is correct, and the only option for being correct, while another says that that is not even remotely close to it.
One such instance was in the very first language lesson I taught. I asked our Kinyarwanda teacher to give me the word for "question" so that I could teach them both "question" and "answer," as those words are used daily in class. She told me that the word for question was "ikibazo." So I taught that word to the entire class and have been using it for the last seven weeks. About a two weeks ago I found out that it was also the word for "problem." That explained why I seemed to be hearing that word constantly. I was fine with the fact that it was used for both problem and question until an English speaker from Seeds of Peace in Gahini came about a week ago and the topic came up. He told me that ikibazo is not used for question at all, but only for problem!! He said another word was that I can't recall. I was a little distressed about this but was hoping that maybe in common use that it was still used for question, as I was recalling the last 5 weeks of asking them to repeat the "problem." The next day I was asking John Claude where one of our workers, Jaci, was. He said with his face scrunched up in thought, tapping the back of his head, "She has a....question...in her head." Oh dear.
Another instance was one day that I was teaching about conditions. We are always asking each other how we are so I was teaching, "tired" "hungry" "sick" "sad" etc. so that they could plug that into the sentence they already knew, "I am fine." It was a list of 10 different words all relating to how one was feeling. One girl, Josianne, in the first class, came in, and after reading the list she came up very quickly and deliberately pointing to the word for "busy," which was "guhuga." She scratched it out and added an "n" so that it was "guhunga." I assumed that must be correct and I had made a mistake since all 10 words were in the same category, therefore she must have inferred what I was trying to say. So I taught the class and everything went fine. When the second class came in, one student from the market who has joined (who speaks very good English, but has wanted to practice listening to my accent) came up and said, "umm... teacher.... you must mean to use 'guhuga.' This word 'guhunga' means to flee the country." haha I just laughed and laughed, and even now the first class tries to correct me when I say "guhuga."
Saturday, October 22, 2011
October 22: Business Troubles
Business has been rough since we have been here. We have been making progress in understanding the more intricate details of individual departments, and still, after two months of work, we can't seem to make much profit at all. Honestly the center was run so poorly by a previous manager (who is no longer involved) that we are facing around 250,000 US dollars of debt owed to around 25 different individuals or organizations. We are definitely swimming upstream. It seems like at least every week someone else shows up here wanting the money we owe them, which Julianna and I didn't even know that we owed until that moment! It is so frustrating to see our employees work so hard to make the grounds and the food presentable for guests; and then the little profit that is made is forked over to a butcher that did a favor for the old manager, and now needs the money that was promised to him two years ago. Unfortunately we just discovered that there is documentation for all of the debts so we can't write them off as lying.
Every day the restaurant seems to spend more than what they make because our prices are so low and because of lack of customers. The problem is, as soon as we make less food, we have 30 customers and more than half get upset and leave. So then the next day we make more and no one comes. We can't raise the prices, because if we were to raise the prices out-the-blue without making the renovations first, then we would even loose the few consistent customers that we do have. We usually make enough that if we had 15 customers we could make some profit, but the Rwandese pile their plates so high that only about 10 or 11 get through. It would make sense, but now we don't have the refrigeration or ability as of now to make individual plates by order.
The employees have not been paid for September or October, and just when we think we will be able to pay them, we get the water bill which is 250,000 RWF ( about $500.00). If we don't pay it, then they shut the water off which then makes our clientele even smaller. I won't go into detail about all of the strategies we have been trying to implement that don't cost money (we haven't received the money for renovations yet), but just know that we are doing what we can for now.
With that said, you can imagine how eager we are for business of any kind, whether someone is staying for 3 months or someone is just coming for a cup of tea. Each positive business transaction slowly builds our reputation back up to being a decent business. Today was a busy day, and most everyone on staff was bustling with someone or something, preparing, recording, cleaning, escorting, explaining, and so on. I had just finished fixing some lights that were needed for a meeting taking place tonight in the bungalo when Julianna called me over and told me we had a customer who wanted a room for a few nights. We have been trying to be good examples of customer service (as it is very poor here), so I put on my best face, eager to have another customer and walked over to introduce myself in the best Kinyarwanda I could. "Miliwe, amakuru (Good evening, what's the news)?" I asked, earnestly shaking his hand. He replied as expected "Ni meza, Amakuru Namwe (Its good, and you)?" "Sawa (good)" I said and continued. Rwandese either think it is hilarious or impressive when a mazungu speaks kinyarwanda, and I wasn't sure what he thought yet so i kept going, "Urashaka Icyumba (do you want a room)?" "Yiego (yes)" he said. Then out of desperation, for my word bank was running low, I asked him if he spoke English, "Uvuga Icyongereza?" He did and we laughed and talked a bit as I fumbled for the keys to a few of the rooms. My plan was this: to take him to the nicest rooms first and allow him to see what he could have, and then bring him to the less nice rooms and allow him to choose, hoping that he would be longing to be back in the better rooms.
We walked to room A-4 talking about his occupation and our plans at the conference center until my struggling to unlock the door broke our train of thought. This one door lock has a reputation of sticking and tonight I was embarrassed that it was as I was trying to woo this customer into our "nice" rooms. Eventually, Francois, our effervescent assistant manager, saw me struggling and came to help. I was getting ready to run to exchange the key for another when he got it open. "WHEW," I thought, "That was rough, but its OK now we got it open. Now we will show him the room and if he chooses it then we will move him to an identical room with working locks." I was on the right track, but I did not notice until it was too late that Francois wanted to try the lock from the inside. As I showed the customer the room and the bathroom I heard Francois mumbling in French, "mfmdffjn petetre dklnb" and then CLICK-CLACK. He was pleased to find that the door indeed locked from the inside. Unfortunately for me, Francois, and the customer, the door would not unlock from the inside. The "nicest" room became the smallest and most awkward place imaginable. After about ten minutes of Francois and I trying to unlock the door, we gave up and Francois decided to call another worker to bring another key. He dialed her number to call her but realized he did not have any minutes left on his phone. He then turned to me, hand outstretched to use mine. For some reason only known to God, I had put my phone on my desk and not in my pocket, and therefore I had no phone to use either. Francois and myself then slowly....awkwardly....and painfully turned to the customer to ask if we could use his phone to call our employee to come let us out of our own hotel room. One of the house-keepers came and rescued us.
This was not the typical welcome we have for guests here at Seeds of Hope, but it is certainly is typical for life around here as a whole. Thankfully he ended up getting a room anyway and he laughed with us all about it later, so maybe we could implement it in the future as a business method.
Every day the restaurant seems to spend more than what they make because our prices are so low and because of lack of customers. The problem is, as soon as we make less food, we have 30 customers and more than half get upset and leave. So then the next day we make more and no one comes. We can't raise the prices, because if we were to raise the prices out-the-blue without making the renovations first, then we would even loose the few consistent customers that we do have. We usually make enough that if we had 15 customers we could make some profit, but the Rwandese pile their plates so high that only about 10 or 11 get through. It would make sense, but now we don't have the refrigeration or ability as of now to make individual plates by order.
The employees have not been paid for September or October, and just when we think we will be able to pay them, we get the water bill which is 250,000 RWF ( about $500.00). If we don't pay it, then they shut the water off which then makes our clientele even smaller. I won't go into detail about all of the strategies we have been trying to implement that don't cost money (we haven't received the money for renovations yet), but just know that we are doing what we can for now.
With that said, you can imagine how eager we are for business of any kind, whether someone is staying for 3 months or someone is just coming for a cup of tea. Each positive business transaction slowly builds our reputation back up to being a decent business. Today was a busy day, and most everyone on staff was bustling with someone or something, preparing, recording, cleaning, escorting, explaining, and so on. I had just finished fixing some lights that were needed for a meeting taking place tonight in the bungalo when Julianna called me over and told me we had a customer who wanted a room for a few nights. We have been trying to be good examples of customer service (as it is very poor here), so I put on my best face, eager to have another customer and walked over to introduce myself in the best Kinyarwanda I could. "Miliwe, amakuru (Good evening, what's the news)?" I asked, earnestly shaking his hand. He replied as expected "Ni meza, Amakuru Namwe (Its good, and you)?" "Sawa (good)" I said and continued. Rwandese either think it is hilarious or impressive when a mazungu speaks kinyarwanda, and I wasn't sure what he thought yet so i kept going, "Urashaka Icyumba (do you want a room)?" "Yiego (yes)" he said. Then out of desperation, for my word bank was running low, I asked him if he spoke English, "Uvuga Icyongereza?" He did and we laughed and talked a bit as I fumbled for the keys to a few of the rooms. My plan was this: to take him to the nicest rooms first and allow him to see what he could have, and then bring him to the less nice rooms and allow him to choose, hoping that he would be longing to be back in the better rooms.
We walked to room A-4 talking about his occupation and our plans at the conference center until my struggling to unlock the door broke our train of thought. This one door lock has a reputation of sticking and tonight I was embarrassed that it was as I was trying to woo this customer into our "nice" rooms. Eventually, Francois, our effervescent assistant manager, saw me struggling and came to help. I was getting ready to run to exchange the key for another when he got it open. "WHEW," I thought, "That was rough, but its OK now we got it open. Now we will show him the room and if he chooses it then we will move him to an identical room with working locks." I was on the right track, but I did not notice until it was too late that Francois wanted to try the lock from the inside. As I showed the customer the room and the bathroom I heard Francois mumbling in French, "mfmdffjn petetre dklnb" and then CLICK-CLACK. He was pleased to find that the door indeed locked from the inside. Unfortunately for me, Francois, and the customer, the door would not unlock from the inside. The "nicest" room became the smallest and most awkward place imaginable. After about ten minutes of Francois and I trying to unlock the door, we gave up and Francois decided to call another worker to bring another key. He dialed her number to call her but realized he did not have any minutes left on his phone. He then turned to me, hand outstretched to use mine. For some reason only known to God, I had put my phone on my desk and not in my pocket, and therefore I had no phone to use either. Francois and myself then slowly....awkwardly....and painfully turned to the customer to ask if we could use his phone to call our employee to come let us out of our own hotel room. One of the house-keepers came and rescued us.
This was not the typical welcome we have for guests here at Seeds of Hope, but it is certainly is typical for life around here as a whole. Thankfully he ended up getting a room anyway and he laughed with us all about it later, so maybe we could implement it in the future as a business method.
Friday, October 21, 2011
DIVIDING LINE
For those of you that have been checking our tumblr blog, everything before this post was taken from that blog. Everything after will continue on this website. If you are confused then just check tumblr and there will be a link to this site.
October 11: Lifestyle Changes 1-3
1. Water:
We are becoming remarkably good at conserving water. Previously I tried to contain the water while I bucket showered, as it got everywhere with the lack of a curtain. Now I make an effort to splash so that I can use the water to mop afterwards. Now, I ask questions like, “Hmmm… I wonder what I could use this dirty dish water for…” or “I wonder if I can rinse my mouth and make it land on the toothbrush to wash it out at the same time.”
2. Trash Disposal:
In America, we throw something away and for all know, it is never seen again. It goes to “trash world,” wherever that is. Here, when we throw something away, we have to ask ourselves if we are comfortable with all of our workers and neighbors seeing it. We just have a big trash pile behind the workers’ quarters. There is no where else to put it! It is either burned or taken away very occasionally. I always put our trash in the little brown shopping bags the market gives us on top of the trash pile. I have gone back several times to see if they are still there after I leave them, and they never are. I see certain parts strewn about, but never the entirety of it. There is a split in the fence where, I have heard, people from outside come in and go through the trash.
Now, I want you to stop and think of all the things you throw away and how much of that you would want others to see!
3. Germ Categories:
I have noticed since being here how stingy we Americans are when it comes to germs. The brush or sponge that washes the dishes would NEVER be used to wash anything else (except something else in the kitchen, possibly the counters), the toilet brush is STRICTLY for the toilet, the washing detergent is only for clothes, etc etc etc. We have both separate chemicals, and separate appliances for cleaning almost everything imaginable. We have dish soap, body soap, face soap, hand soap, detergent soap, car wash soap, mopping soap, comet (toilet) soap, and so on.
Here, as far as we know, they use two types of soap for everything. A blue body bar of soap which they use for washing themselves, dishes, etc., and this powder detergent called “Omo”. They use that on clothing, floors, toilets, and most other projects.
As I observed our cleaning girls’ methods, I have seen that they use the “toilet” brush for the toilet, shower, sink, and parts of the floor. I’m not condoning that type of cleaning method, in fact, in the future, when we get the money, I will make sure there are adequate cleaning supplies so that they can AT LEAST keep the toilet brush separate from everything else. My point is, it fascinated me that they seem to just see dirt as dirt and grime as grime no matter where it came from or what the composition of it is, whereas in America we are all germaphobes and have every single type of germ in its own category down to a science.
It seems as though we all live in our own separate boxes and keep every part of our life and everything we own in its own box too. There is the bedroom box where only bedroom things go in, a bathroom box, a kitchen box, etc. I can see my boxes getting smaller and smaller, and some even nonexistant anymore. For example, our room is a bedroom, sitting room, kitchen, dining room, closet, office, and den. I find myself using the bed for a table while I cook, using it to put bowls and vegetables on it, which would have been unthinkable to me two months ago. There is so much more I could say on the “box” issue, but I’m sure it will come out further in the future.
Julianna
We are becoming remarkably good at conserving water. Previously I tried to contain the water while I bucket showered, as it got everywhere with the lack of a curtain. Now I make an effort to splash so that I can use the water to mop afterwards. Now, I ask questions like, “Hmmm… I wonder what I could use this dirty dish water for…” or “I wonder if I can rinse my mouth and make it land on the toothbrush to wash it out at the same time.”
2. Trash Disposal:
In America, we throw something away and for all know, it is never seen again. It goes to “trash world,” wherever that is. Here, when we throw something away, we have to ask ourselves if we are comfortable with all of our workers and neighbors seeing it. We just have a big trash pile behind the workers’ quarters. There is no where else to put it! It is either burned or taken away very occasionally. I always put our trash in the little brown shopping bags the market gives us on top of the trash pile. I have gone back several times to see if they are still there after I leave them, and they never are. I see certain parts strewn about, but never the entirety of it. There is a split in the fence where, I have heard, people from outside come in and go through the trash.
Now, I want you to stop and think of all the things you throw away and how much of that you would want others to see!
3. Germ Categories:
I have noticed since being here how stingy we Americans are when it comes to germs. The brush or sponge that washes the dishes would NEVER be used to wash anything else (except something else in the kitchen, possibly the counters), the toilet brush is STRICTLY for the toilet, the washing detergent is only for clothes, etc etc etc. We have both separate chemicals, and separate appliances for cleaning almost everything imaginable. We have dish soap, body soap, face soap, hand soap, detergent soap, car wash soap, mopping soap, comet (toilet) soap, and so on.
Here, as far as we know, they use two types of soap for everything. A blue body bar of soap which they use for washing themselves, dishes, etc., and this powder detergent called “Omo”. They use that on clothing, floors, toilets, and most other projects.
As I observed our cleaning girls’ methods, I have seen that they use the “toilet” brush for the toilet, shower, sink, and parts of the floor. I’m not condoning that type of cleaning method, in fact, in the future, when we get the money, I will make sure there are adequate cleaning supplies so that they can AT LEAST keep the toilet brush separate from everything else. My point is, it fascinated me that they seem to just see dirt as dirt and grime as grime no matter where it came from or what the composition of it is, whereas in America we are all germaphobes and have every single type of germ in its own category down to a science.
It seems as though we all live in our own separate boxes and keep every part of our life and everything we own in its own box too. There is the bedroom box where only bedroom things go in, a bathroom box, a kitchen box, etc. I can see my boxes getting smaller and smaller, and some even nonexistant anymore. For example, our room is a bedroom, sitting room, kitchen, dining room, closet, office, and den. I find myself using the bed for a table while I cook, using it to put bowls and vegetables on it, which would have been unthinkable to me two months ago. There is so much more I could say on the “box” issue, but I’m sure it will come out further in the future.
Julianna
Throwing Keys
We noticed after a few weeks of being here that not many people throw things to each other. The Rwandans would just stare as I threw something to Julianna across the room or out the door in a hurry. In fact, nobody here throws much of anything at all. An exchange that could be simplified a great deal by a simple lighthearted, underhanded flip of the wrist is avoided and instead almost everything is handed directly from hand to hand with minimal airtime.
I found out why after telling the receptionist to throw me his keys over and over and seeing his face fill with confusion, refusing to do it. He, in broken English, explained that in the act of throwing, the thrower is allegedly treating the catcher as if he were a dog (sadly nobody likes dogs here). Thus, a great disrespect is implied when you toss something to someone. Instead, a respectful exchange is completed by extending the right arm, object in hand, and handing it to the recipient while simultaneously touching your left hand to your right forearm. This is how you give something to someone with respect.
I found out why after telling the receptionist to throw me his keys over and over and seeing his face fill with confusion, refusing to do it. He, in broken English, explained that in the act of throwing, the thrower is allegedly treating the catcher as if he were a dog (sadly nobody likes dogs here). Thus, a great disrespect is implied when you toss something to someone. Instead, a respectful exchange is completed by extending the right arm, object in hand, and handing it to the recipient while simultaneously touching your left hand to your right forearm. This is how you give something to someone with respect.
Throwing Keys
We noticed after a few weeks of being here that not many people throw things to each other. The Rwandans would just stare as I threw something to Julianna across the room or out the door in a hurry. In fact, nobody here throws much of anything at all. An exchange that could be simplified a great deal by a simple lighthearted, underhanded flip of the wrist is avoided and instead almost everything is handed directly from hand to hand with minimal airtime.
I found out why after telling the receptionist to throw me his keys over and over and seeing his face fill with confusion, refusing to do it. He, in broken English, explained that in the act of throwing, the thrower is allegedly treating the catcher as if he were a dog (sadly nobody likes dogs here). Thus, a great disrespect is implied when you toss something to someone. Instead, a respectful exchange is completed by extending the right arm, object in hand, and handing it to the recipient while simultaneously touching your left hand to your right forearm. This is how you give something to someone with respect.
I found out why after telling the receptionist to throw me his keys over and over and seeing his face fill with confusion, refusing to do it. He, in broken English, explained that in the act of throwing, the thrower is allegedly treating the catcher as if he were a dog (sadly nobody likes dogs here). Thus, a great disrespect is implied when you toss something to someone. Instead, a respectful exchange is completed by extending the right arm, object in hand, and handing it to the recipient while simultaneously touching your left hand to your right forearm. This is how you give something to someone with respect.
Response to Question: Does the Coca-Cola taste different there? Do they even have any to purchase?
Yes the Coca-Cola is bottled in glass bottles that are reused so that is a little different, i think it tastes better. What is funny is that they call every kind of soda here “fanta” and there are like 4 different kinds of fanta. Fanta Citro which is like lemonade soda, Fanta Fiesta which is some strange purple soda but its good, dont know what it tastes like though. Fanta Orange, and Fanta Grape as well as Coca-Cola and tonic water.
FREAK SNOWSTORM HITS RWANDA!!!!!!!!!
Just kidding but we found out how to take a picture from our computer and we’re jealous of the cooler weather in the US.
Right now I am sitting on the bed, watching Julianna cook our dinner. We have been craving some spaghetti so my amazing wife went to the market and got all the ingredients that would resemble spaghetti. She ended up getting enough vegetables for us to have at least 2 dinners for under dollar!! One of the best things about being in foreign countries is cheap fresh fruits and vegetables. And one of the things I love about Julianna is her ability to make an amazing meal out of anything. Even the Rwandan ramen noodles seem better when she cooks them. I am so thankful for such a gorgeous, brilliant, helpful, multi-faceted woman to love and to be loved by for the rest of my life.
I am not sure that anything monumental, or even really amazing has happened in the last week or so but you can judge for yourselves. I told this story to my dad and I think it was blog worthy so here it is verbatim, (thank you Lord for the copy & paste function) I have been slowly making a map of all the plumbing in this place and made a huge breakthrough in my discovery! I found that they have plumbing running to a 2500 liter tank that is ready to have some pipes ran to a nearby building so it could have pressurized water. Then, with a few water heaters, we could raise the price of the rooms! Unfortunately at almost the exact moment that I discovered the pipe I discovered that it was busted underground and pumping gallons of water into the earth. I shut it off and tried to disconnect it from the main line (I had dug all this up for the previous 2 hours) only to find that I had accidentally broken a pipe that ran to another building. So… in an attempt to fix that one I realized that I had broken the pipe to the other building as well. Turns out that I had single handedly destroyed the water supply to literally every room on the hotel property. At that point I think I was finally happy that I was the manager so that no one would make fun of me for it, I just acted like i knew what was going on all along. Long story short, 6 hours later with the help of Julianna holding the flash light and playing music from the Ipod for encouragement we got it all running well again with no leaks. Again, another instance where I am so thankful for my loving wife.
I have been asked to preach in church by several people every single week we have been here, each time I have declined, or refused, or ran away. Julianna has been pressing me to do it, so last week when the pastor asked me to preach the next week I agreed. So for the following week i studied, prayed, prepared, got anxious just about every night, prepared again, revised, studied more, and on and on. For the first time in my life I felt ready to speak when i needed to. This past Sunday, yesterday, I got up early, sat outside, drank coffee and prayed for a while. Then I woke Julianna up and we got ready and walked to church. Then, after we got to Church we experienced the epitome of irony, or the epitome of African culture (we will never be sure). We walked in and talked with our brothers and sisters there not sure of exactly what to do as the speaker instead of just a member of the congregation. Then some of the people just started singing acapella (which is how the church starts here) so we found seats. It was not long before we realized that there was someone else prepared to preach instead of me! He was at the front with notes in hand. The one week that I accept and agree to preach, they either forget or just didn’t understand in the first place. We had told some of our friends that I was preaching that day and as they realized the problem at hand, they (awkwardly) interrupted the service to sort the matter out. So, I was torn whether I should just tell them I would preach next week and give the floor to this other guy, or take advantage of the confidence I had, although by this time my confidence was being replaced by sheer embarrassment. I decided on the latter and figured if there culture had room for this sort of thing to be sorted out in church, then it would have room for me to take the other speaker’s time to preach. So we had our normal church service and at the time for the sermon Bernard, the arch deacon (equivalent to a head pastor that is head of several churches), introduced me. I spoke on Romans 5:1-5. Encouraging them as well as myself to come to grips with what it means for us to be justified and at peace with God, and not only that we are at peace with him, but that God is slowly restoring his glory in us that one day we will be glorified with Him! He is giving back the very thing that we scorned in the Garden of Eden! How gracious is a God that humbles himself to give us what we don’t deserve solely because of his love for us? The message went well actually and the response was great. I am happy that God would use me for his purposes as imperfect as I am.
On the subject of public speaking, I have realized that there is a difference between someone that is not good at public speaking, and someone that is not good at winging it when they could have prepared much more than they did. American university life makes it difficult to really dwell on a subject, think about it for a few days or a week and slowly pick apart what is important, draw conclusions, make applications, devise metaphors to help communicate the idea, etc. All through school, I thought that I was not a good teacher (although Julianna has been telling me otherwise for years), or that I do not have the ability to write papers or exegete deep spiritual passages. This advice is mainly for the CIU students who can relate. Now, as backwards as it seems, after graduating Bible college I actually have more time to spend studying the bible. I want you to know that it is so rewarding to study the Bible, use the tools that we learned over the course of the four or five years of undergrad to prepare a message that is honest before God and uses the Bible with integrity. So, I think what I mean to say is this: the classroom is somewhat of a microcosm of the real world. In the classroom you learn theories and knowledge and many practical things, but be sure to learn it well with hope that God will use those experiments, and combine them with the actual world that you are thrown into and produce wisdom in your heart.
September 20th: Daily Activities
Many of you have asked what everyday life holds for us. Here I will give a little glimpse into our daily activities.
Generally, we go to sleep extremely early; anywhere from 8-10PM. We also wake up early; anywhere from 6-7AM. Part of the reason for this change in schedule (for those of you who know our past routines) is that it is quite easy and natural for us to do this here. There are an even amount of hours of darkness and light every day. It gets light at about 6AM and then gets dark at 6PM. So, at 10PM it has been dark for four hours and it makes us feel as though it is later than it is. It is much like in winter when it gets dark early and the day (and your energy) ends so much sooner than the late summer nights.
In the mornings when we wake up we go to breakfast here at the restaurant, which is comprised of a cup of tea and a chapat (like flat bread). For lunch every day their buffet consists of some combination of the following: rice with carrots, plain noodles, plantains, kidney beans,homemade french fries, greens, usually meat, and a tomato sauce. Dinner is usually the left overs from that food. They have a strange bottle that looks like an eye-dropper with yellow pepper liquid in it. I usually douse my food in that. In the beginning I was using about four drops, which was plenty spicy, and now I just spray it on.
We eat in the restaurant here for breakfast and lunch primarily because we don’t have a kitchen. We live in one of the little motel rooms on the conference grounds, which means we couldn’t even dig a fire pit nearby to cook in if we wanted to. Thankfully, this past weekend in Kigali, Drew and I found a single electric eye for $20. We got a small pot for $2 and now we are able to cook for ourselves! We will probably continue to eat breakfast and lunch in the restaurant because those meals are extremely cheap. It is less than a dollar for both of us to eat breakfast, and about $4 total for lunch for both of us. Additionally, we are usually busy enough during the day that it really helps to be able to just go and eat and then continue on our way.
Actually, tomorrow I am going to the market with the boy who does the shopping to see where he gets all the vegetables, rice, etc, and at what price. It will be better that I see how much he pays because usually we are given a mazungo price when we go out.
Drew and I have a water boiler in our room which has also been helping tremendously. He is able to make coffee, I can make tea, and for the last two weeks we have been experimenting with dinners that we can make with only boiling water. So far, we have succeeded with a kind of spaghetti, oatmeal (more like soggy cardboard), and an Asian noodle we just discovered in the market. We are also able to boil water to purify it so that we don’t have to keep buying bottled water all the time.
Little things like this make me feel more at home. Maybe its just a woman thing, but I felt completely inadequate and incompetent not being able to provide meals for us. Now that I can make Drew coffee, or serve visitors, I definitely feel like I’m settling in better. Also, their dinners are served much later than Drew and I like to eat, and sometimes it wasn’t served at all, or we felt like they were cooking just for us. Lunch and breakfast are much more stable.
Usually between meals we spend our time around Seeds of Hope or around the town doing various things. Drew is always on a mission fixing something, while I am either assisting him, cleaning something, preparing lesson plans, or teaching. Drew’s administrative duties are also picking up daily as the language barrier slowly (and I mean EVER so slowly) decreases. Other than the daily happenings around there are some consistent activities that take up our time.
One of my favorite tasks I have done so far is to wash clothes. After the week of being sick, I was so looking forward to cleaning and washing the sheets and our clothes. I asked Angelique, one of the cleaning girls, to teach me how to wash clothes by hand. She did so and it was a very enjoyable process. I have always found washing dishes to be therapeutic, and this was similar to that in its effect. It was incredible to watch her methods! It is an absolute skill that they have mastered. Every item of clothing had a very specific way to be washed. I realized after awhile that they have the major sweat spots on a person down to a science. She began by filling three buckets with water. In the first she did the major scrubbing, the second to soak and scrub a little more, and then the last for rinsing. In the first, she was amazing in the way she was getting all the key points and then spot scrubbing at the same time. She got out spots that have been there for months! I keep wondering how machines are able to spot scrub like that; in fact they can’t! I kept trying to get my hands in there to help and she would give them a light tap when I was doing it wrong. I absolutely couldn’t master the manner in which she was scrubbing.
Some of the odeties we noticed when we got here we have now seen the practicality in. For example, the curtains over the door windows are attached on the wall above the door instead of the door itself so that every time you open the door the curtain gets tangled in it. Even though it really is annoying, we realized that they use the curtains almost as screens. So when they want to air out the room or dry from mopping, they pull the curtain down to protect from the dirt and bugs coming in. The reason I say that is because of another example of this. I was wondering why she was turning everything inside-out to dry as it was an extra step in the process. Later I realized it was probably to protect from the colors bleaching out in the sun.
Anyway, after my great experience washing clothes last time, I was really looking forward to having a go at it myself last week. Showering is quite an ordeal here, and I had just taken one the night before, but I figured that I would be safe washing because the other women come out looking unchanged in their appearance afterwards. I carried our clothes, sheets, towel, and our bucket over to the washing zone, and I got many strange looks on the way over. I guess mazungos don’t usually wash clothes. I got offers from three workers to wash the clothes for me, but we have been trying to explain that this is our home now and we want to pull our weight around here (although we do accept help in many areas). So I went at it. At any given point I may have had two or three people looking over me either staring blankly or trying to correct my methods. Truly, I never thought I would be so absolutely self-conscious about something like my ability to wash clothes by hand. I felt so awkward in my motions. I just could not reproduce the skills they seemingly have by instinct. By the end of the three hour process I looked like a drowned rat. Literally, I was soaked from head to toe. I had started out with my hair neatly put up, shoes, and a nice wrap skirt on, etc. By the end I had tied my skirt in a knot, my hair was a disaster, I was soaked top to bottom, I had kicked my shoes off, I was sunburned and exhausted, and all my fingers were bleeding. It is amazing to me how competent the women are in so many areas, while I struggled through one load of clothes.
After speaking to Bernard’s wife when she asked about what happened to my fingers, she again explained how to rub the clothes without rubbing my fingers. I still can’t get it, but I promised I would keep practicing. Also, she told me I tried to wash way too many at one time. She said to take about 5-10 things at a time and do “many soaps, many soaps, scrub scrub scrub.” I was embarrassed that I had been thinking in an American mindset, saving up a huge load as if I could just toss it all in the machine. So I decided to wash more during the week. I tried again today with a much smaller load, and it worked pretty well. I still cannot master the method, but I’m sure it will take me much longer to even come close.
Another new activity is the act of showering with buckets. Drew and I often chuckle because we know that we would be laughed at if the Rwandese could see us trying to take a bucket shower (but that would be weird and I’m not suggesting that that happen). It takes two of us to do it, and it is a very long process. I have cut out any extra step I used to have, like using conditioner. You would be surprised how unnecessary it really is, girls! Usually by the time we are done there is water all over the bathroom floor (partly because there is no shower curtain, but I’m not even sure a shower curtain could hold that mess back). Our methods are improving though, because for the first two weeks had this strange spot of dirty hair on the crown of my head, and I realized it was because I have been washing my hair upside down and that spot was right in the middle getting ignored. Now I am coming out thoroughly clean.
After the day is done, Drew and I usually read The Chronicles of Narnia together. This is a very special time for us. Usually we want to keep reading more and more, but we are trying to preserve the books as we are on the 5th book in the series of 7! I keep telling Drew that there are more books in the world, but he (as am I) is very attached to these.
I will stop here, but I am sure at other times we will elaborate on the work we are doing here. Please pray for Drew, he is either coming down with what I had, or something else. I have been shoving loads of vitamins in him for a week hoping to kick his immune system into gear, but he still seems to be getting a little worse every day. I’m really hoping its not Malaria, because about two weeks ago he woke up with 9 mosquito bites all over his back, as we had slept in a room that had a really dinky mosquito net. One thing that gives me hope is that the same night both of us kept being wakened by the buzzing mosquito (or two, we aren’t sure), finding out later from the Bishop’s wife that the ones that buzz are males, and males do not carry Malaria. Interesting.
Thank you all for your consistent interest and prayer.
Julianna
Generally, we go to sleep extremely early; anywhere from 8-10PM. We also wake up early; anywhere from 6-7AM. Part of the reason for this change in schedule (for those of you who know our past routines) is that it is quite easy and natural for us to do this here. There are an even amount of hours of darkness and light every day. It gets light at about 6AM and then gets dark at 6PM. So, at 10PM it has been dark for four hours and it makes us feel as though it is later than it is. It is much like in winter when it gets dark early and the day (and your energy) ends so much sooner than the late summer nights.
In the mornings when we wake up we go to breakfast here at the restaurant, which is comprised of a cup of tea and a chapat (like flat bread). For lunch every day their buffet consists of some combination of the following: rice with carrots, plain noodles, plantains, kidney beans,homemade french fries, greens, usually meat, and a tomato sauce. Dinner is usually the left overs from that food. They have a strange bottle that looks like an eye-dropper with yellow pepper liquid in it. I usually douse my food in that. In the beginning I was using about four drops, which was plenty spicy, and now I just spray it on.
We eat in the restaurant here for breakfast and lunch primarily because we don’t have a kitchen. We live in one of the little motel rooms on the conference grounds, which means we couldn’t even dig a fire pit nearby to cook in if we wanted to. Thankfully, this past weekend in Kigali, Drew and I found a single electric eye for $20. We got a small pot for $2 and now we are able to cook for ourselves! We will probably continue to eat breakfast and lunch in the restaurant because those meals are extremely cheap. It is less than a dollar for both of us to eat breakfast, and about $4 total for lunch for both of us. Additionally, we are usually busy enough during the day that it really helps to be able to just go and eat and then continue on our way.
Actually, tomorrow I am going to the market with the boy who does the shopping to see where he gets all the vegetables, rice, etc, and at what price. It will be better that I see how much he pays because usually we are given a mazungo price when we go out.
Drew and I have a water boiler in our room which has also been helping tremendously. He is able to make coffee, I can make tea, and for the last two weeks we have been experimenting with dinners that we can make with only boiling water. So far, we have succeeded with a kind of spaghetti, oatmeal (more like soggy cardboard), and an Asian noodle we just discovered in the market. We are also able to boil water to purify it so that we don’t have to keep buying bottled water all the time.
Little things like this make me feel more at home. Maybe its just a woman thing, but I felt completely inadequate and incompetent not being able to provide meals for us. Now that I can make Drew coffee, or serve visitors, I definitely feel like I’m settling in better. Also, their dinners are served much later than Drew and I like to eat, and sometimes it wasn’t served at all, or we felt like they were cooking just for us. Lunch and breakfast are much more stable.
Usually between meals we spend our time around Seeds of Hope or around the town doing various things. Drew is always on a mission fixing something, while I am either assisting him, cleaning something, preparing lesson plans, or teaching. Drew’s administrative duties are also picking up daily as the language barrier slowly (and I mean EVER so slowly) decreases. Other than the daily happenings around there are some consistent activities that take up our time.
One of my favorite tasks I have done so far is to wash clothes. After the week of being sick, I was so looking forward to cleaning and washing the sheets and our clothes. I asked Angelique, one of the cleaning girls, to teach me how to wash clothes by hand. She did so and it was a very enjoyable process. I have always found washing dishes to be therapeutic, and this was similar to that in its effect. It was incredible to watch her methods! It is an absolute skill that they have mastered. Every item of clothing had a very specific way to be washed. I realized after awhile that they have the major sweat spots on a person down to a science. She began by filling three buckets with water. In the first she did the major scrubbing, the second to soak and scrub a little more, and then the last for rinsing. In the first, she was amazing in the way she was getting all the key points and then spot scrubbing at the same time. She got out spots that have been there for months! I keep wondering how machines are able to spot scrub like that; in fact they can’t! I kept trying to get my hands in there to help and she would give them a light tap when I was doing it wrong. I absolutely couldn’t master the manner in which she was scrubbing.
Some of the odeties we noticed when we got here we have now seen the practicality in. For example, the curtains over the door windows are attached on the wall above the door instead of the door itself so that every time you open the door the curtain gets tangled in it. Even though it really is annoying, we realized that they use the curtains almost as screens. So when they want to air out the room or dry from mopping, they pull the curtain down to protect from the dirt and bugs coming in. The reason I say that is because of another example of this. I was wondering why she was turning everything inside-out to dry as it was an extra step in the process. Later I realized it was probably to protect from the colors bleaching out in the sun.
Anyway, after my great experience washing clothes last time, I was really looking forward to having a go at it myself last week. Showering is quite an ordeal here, and I had just taken one the night before, but I figured that I would be safe washing because the other women come out looking unchanged in their appearance afterwards. I carried our clothes, sheets, towel, and our bucket over to the washing zone, and I got many strange looks on the way over. I guess mazungos don’t usually wash clothes. I got offers from three workers to wash the clothes for me, but we have been trying to explain that this is our home now and we want to pull our weight around here (although we do accept help in many areas). So I went at it. At any given point I may have had two or three people looking over me either staring blankly or trying to correct my methods. Truly, I never thought I would be so absolutely self-conscious about something like my ability to wash clothes by hand. I felt so awkward in my motions. I just could not reproduce the skills they seemingly have by instinct. By the end of the three hour process I looked like a drowned rat. Literally, I was soaked from head to toe. I had started out with my hair neatly put up, shoes, and a nice wrap skirt on, etc. By the end I had tied my skirt in a knot, my hair was a disaster, I was soaked top to bottom, I had kicked my shoes off, I was sunburned and exhausted, and all my fingers were bleeding. It is amazing to me how competent the women are in so many areas, while I struggled through one load of clothes.
After speaking to Bernard’s wife when she asked about what happened to my fingers, she again explained how to rub the clothes without rubbing my fingers. I still can’t get it, but I promised I would keep practicing. Also, she told me I tried to wash way too many at one time. She said to take about 5-10 things at a time and do “many soaps, many soaps, scrub scrub scrub.” I was embarrassed that I had been thinking in an American mindset, saving up a huge load as if I could just toss it all in the machine. So I decided to wash more during the week. I tried again today with a much smaller load, and it worked pretty well. I still cannot master the method, but I’m sure it will take me much longer to even come close.
Another new activity is the act of showering with buckets. Drew and I often chuckle because we know that we would be laughed at if the Rwandese could see us trying to take a bucket shower (but that would be weird and I’m not suggesting that that happen). It takes two of us to do it, and it is a very long process. I have cut out any extra step I used to have, like using conditioner. You would be surprised how unnecessary it really is, girls! Usually by the time we are done there is water all over the bathroom floor (partly because there is no shower curtain, but I’m not even sure a shower curtain could hold that mess back). Our methods are improving though, because for the first two weeks had this strange spot of dirty hair on the crown of my head, and I realized it was because I have been washing my hair upside down and that spot was right in the middle getting ignored. Now I am coming out thoroughly clean.
After the day is done, Drew and I usually read The Chronicles of Narnia together. This is a very special time for us. Usually we want to keep reading more and more, but we are trying to preserve the books as we are on the 5th book in the series of 7! I keep telling Drew that there are more books in the world, but he (as am I) is very attached to these.
I will stop here, but I am sure at other times we will elaborate on the work we are doing here. Please pray for Drew, he is either coming down with what I had, or something else. I have been shoving loads of vitamins in him for a week hoping to kick his immune system into gear, but he still seems to be getting a little worse every day. I’m really hoping its not Malaria, because about two weeks ago he woke up with 9 mosquito bites all over his back, as we had slept in a room that had a really dinky mosquito net. One thing that gives me hope is that the same night both of us kept being wakened by the buzzing mosquito (or two, we aren’t sure), finding out later from the Bishop’s wife that the ones that buzz are males, and males do not carry Malaria. Interesting.
Thank you all for your consistent interest and prayer.
Julianna
September 19th: African Tea
In America, coffee is typically served in most households, restaurants, and offices in the morning. Here they serve Ikayi (tea) that is about 10% tea, 10% sugar, and 80% fresh-from-the-cow milk. We have drank a dozen cups each of this at least since being here. It’s not so bad, but it has a very distinct taste so we can only handle so much of it. Also, we think Julianna is lactose intolerant, because every time we drink it her stomach hurts badly. When I have asked for coffee (ikawa), it turns out not so much like coffee, but instead just hot water and a can of NesCafe instant coffee crystals. For anyone who remotely enjoys drinking coffee, this is nothing less than awful.
We discovered that most restaurants, including Seeds of Peace and Seeds of Hope, have black tea. This is a great compromise for both of us, and the few times we have had it it has been delicious and spicy much like ginger and apple cider mixed together. Unless someone served us the traditional “African tea” at there house etc, we decided to start requesting black tea. Until today, we did not know how to say it in Kinyarwanda, so as you can imagine, we had a difficult time explaining exactly what we wanted. For the past few weeks, as Julianna and I have been trying to communicate that we want black tea, we were successful only once. All the other times were utter failures, but hilarious in hindsight.
Multiple times we have asked for black tea, but recieved ikayi instead. One of these times, unbothered, I had a little but then slipped back to my room to fill up my french press with coffee and hot water. When I returned, they were curious what this contraption was. I explained to them how it worked by turning the hot water to coffee and separating the grounds from the coffee and so on. It was a lot of fun telling them about it, but unfortunately in the conversation somehow they thought that we were telling them that anytime we enter the restaurant, we wanted a piping hot canteen of water and a can of instant coffee instead of Ikayi or Ikawa. Then for the next two weeks we were served hot water for every breakfast. This was not bad, just disappointing seeing that we were trying so hard to get some black tea. If we tried to communicate that we wanted tea instead of water, they would again bring ikayi. If we said we wanted black tea instead of ikayi, they brought out hot water.
Yesterday in a little cafe, we tried desperately with hand motions and pictures to communicate to the waiter that we wanted black tea. If you looked at the notecard I scribbled on, you would see a picture of tea being poured into a cup circled a thousand times, and next to it was a jug of milk (even with the word amata which means milk) with big X’s drawn through it. I thought that it was clear that we wanted no milk and only tea. I asked him repeatedly urabyumva? (do you understand?) and he acknowledge by raising is eyebrows (the Rwandese way of saying yes, similar to our head nod). In spite of our hard work telling him what we thought was “we want hot tea with no milk,” he brought out, instead, hot milk with no tea at all! Although we were disappointed once again, it was very difficult not to laugh at the irony of the situation. When we left, we decided to give up trying to communicate our request.
This morning, still thinking we would be served hot water, we decided to bring my french press and tea bags for the hot water they would serve us. Ironically, the morning we stopped trying to ask for black tea they brought us black tea. We aren’t sure what will come out of the kitchen tomorrow, but we laughed and laughed at the whole scenario while happily drinking our delicious black tea.
We discovered that most restaurants, including Seeds of Peace and Seeds of Hope, have black tea. This is a great compromise for both of us, and the few times we have had it it has been delicious and spicy much like ginger and apple cider mixed together. Unless someone served us the traditional “African tea” at there house etc, we decided to start requesting black tea. Until today, we did not know how to say it in Kinyarwanda, so as you can imagine, we had a difficult time explaining exactly what we wanted. For the past few weeks, as Julianna and I have been trying to communicate that we want black tea, we were successful only once. All the other times were utter failures, but hilarious in hindsight.
Multiple times we have asked for black tea, but recieved ikayi instead. One of these times, unbothered, I had a little but then slipped back to my room to fill up my french press with coffee and hot water. When I returned, they were curious what this contraption was. I explained to them how it worked by turning the hot water to coffee and separating the grounds from the coffee and so on. It was a lot of fun telling them about it, but unfortunately in the conversation somehow they thought that we were telling them that anytime we enter the restaurant, we wanted a piping hot canteen of water and a can of instant coffee instead of Ikayi or Ikawa. Then for the next two weeks we were served hot water for every breakfast. This was not bad, just disappointing seeing that we were trying so hard to get some black tea. If we tried to communicate that we wanted tea instead of water, they would again bring ikayi. If we said we wanted black tea instead of ikayi, they brought out hot water.
Yesterday in a little cafe, we tried desperately with hand motions and pictures to communicate to the waiter that we wanted black tea. If you looked at the notecard I scribbled on, you would see a picture of tea being poured into a cup circled a thousand times, and next to it was a jug of milk (even with the word amata which means milk) with big X’s drawn through it. I thought that it was clear that we wanted no milk and only tea. I asked him repeatedly urabyumva? (do you understand?) and he acknowledge by raising is eyebrows (the Rwandese way of saying yes, similar to our head nod). In spite of our hard work telling him what we thought was “we want hot tea with no milk,” he brought out, instead, hot milk with no tea at all! Although we were disappointed once again, it was very difficult not to laugh at the irony of the situation. When we left, we decided to give up trying to communicate our request.
This morning, still thinking we would be served hot water, we decided to bring my french press and tea bags for the hot water they would serve us. Ironically, the morning we stopped trying to ask for black tea they brought us black tea. We aren’t sure what will come out of the kitchen tomorrow, but we laughed and laughed at the whole scenario while happily drinking our delicious black tea.
Response to Question: Are you still in need of money/support raising?
We are still in need of support, yes. We have had many people give, and pledge to give, and we are so thankful. Even so, we still do not have enough pledged or given to cover our entire year.
What we have will cover only the bare necessities for our own living for about six more months at the most (food and transportation). Our living expenses have turned out to be a little more than anticipated early on because we are having to buy things that we thought would be available here. Also, eventually we would like to have enough that we can give to the people and the community by investing some of the support money in ministries and functions of this conference center, the church, and the Morning Star School. Until then we are only able to help by using what we have.
If you, or anyone else, would like to partner with us financially after prayerfully considering this, visit the partner link on this blog where we have explained it further. We are so thankful for everyone who has supported us, not only financially, but also emotionally.
What we have will cover only the bare necessities for our own living for about six more months at the most (food and transportation). Our living expenses have turned out to be a little more than anticipated early on because we are having to buy things that we thought would be available here. Also, eventually we would like to have enough that we can give to the people and the community by investing some of the support money in ministries and functions of this conference center, the church, and the Morning Star School. Until then we are only able to help by using what we have.
If you, or anyone else, would like to partner with us financially after prayerfully considering this, visit the partner link on this blog where we have explained it further. We are so thankful for everyone who has supported us, not only financially, but also emotionally.
First Picture From Rwanda
Sorry for the low quality, but this is the best picture we could get till we get a camera cord. This is Julianna and I with the Rwandese here in Nyagatare
September 14 Post
I also want to brag on Drew for his ingenuity. As we have little furnature, and no place to put our things, he has come up with the most interesting systems of organization. He pulled old nails out of the ceiling and stretched rope between two nails. Then he took a coat hangar and made little metal hooks to hang cups, water bottles, etc. He also did the same thing on a larger scale with bamboo to hang his nice shirts and jackets. He has used most of the plastic water bottles we have bought for pencil holders, spaghetti strainers, bowls, cups, shovels, and really anything you can think of. He has also made a pressurized bottle so that it is easier to rinse the shampoo out of our hair. He cut off the tops of two bottles and made speakers to put around the headphones we have so we can listen to music in the room. Recently, as the smell in the bathrooms usually reeks, he strung up our fan (given to us by Lainie and Kevin; THANK YOU!) with an extension cord he rewired to act as a temporary exhaust fan while he makes his own with the little fans from broken computers he found in his office. He has also taken apart and fixed several locks, toilets, showers, etc. from all over the grounds fixing things that are broken. He is so smart!!
Lastly, I want to share how well he has been caring for me. Everywhere we go he is always walking close to me and holding my hand since the roads are a little rough, always offering his hand when we step accross ditches etc. Also, for some reason, everywhere that we have stayed (about six places) for some reason they only have one pillow on the double beds. He always insists that I use the pillow instead of him. Every night he lets the mosquito net down and ties it up in the morning. He is actually very proud of his system of tying it up, for good reason! When I was sick, he did everything he could to help me. One night I was taking medicine and hadn’t eaten for three days so I was incredibly nausious. All I wanted was chicken noodle soup or something remotely close to that. So he went scowering the market for it. He came back with tomatoe paste and noodles cause he knew I loved spaghetti. Of course it sounded terrible to me at the time (which I didn’t say) and I ate two noodles and then threw up. It was the thought that counted though, and it was such a sweet thought! We have been reading The Chronicles of Narnia out loud together (which I will say more about another time), and when I was sick he read them out loud to me to distract me from how aweful I was feeling. Furthermore, he is always helping me when I clean up or mop. He is also very patient helping me wash my hair which is turning out to be a difficult process for us:) If the toilet won’t flush or we don’t have water to wash hands etc, he goes and gets water for us. I often try to do it, but he won’t have it. So most of the time I end up just walking there with him even though he is doing all the work. He helped me prepare for my first English class and then came and sat in on it, helping the class along and pretending to be a student so that he could observe. I could go on and on about what a dear he is! Even just now while I was engrossed in writing this, he went ahead and prepared our noodles for us. I am so thankful that the Lord allowed us to find each other!!
I could write a whole paragraph on the wisdom that he has exercised in his new position as manager. While I am impatient with everything, thinking that it should all be changing quickly for this or that person’s expectations, he has been wise in getting to know everyone, earning their trust before putting too many changes in place. Also, there has been an employee that we have been having problems with, and he has been very patient and wise handling him. I cannot say that I would be as understanding in that situation.
On a side note, Drew found a demo game loaded on our computer called “chicken invaders.” Tonight while I was watching him play (he was owning those chickens) I was like, “You have killed so. many. chickens.” He said, “Just call me Truett Cathy baby.”
Julianna
"Milk"
The most interesting food we have eaten thus far is a traditional milk drink. It was our second day in Rwanda, when our friend Alfred brought us into a circular straw bungalo with mats on the ground and seats along the wall. We were then offered to drink what looked like whole milk. We both like milk so we accepted. What we thought was just going to be a nice cool drink of fresh milk ended up being a luke-warm, sour, yogurt-ish concoction that was so thick I had to swallow again and again to get one gulp down. The surface tension of this stuff was like gak, or if you have ever mixed cornstarch and water as a kid to make this non-newtonian fluid that is a solid when you punch it but drips slowly like a liquid when you hold it in the air… mmm it was like swallowing that except with curddled milk mixed in.
Julianna looking over my shoulder said that her White Oats that we found at the market hoping they would taste like instant oatmeal would be added to this list because we both agree that no matter how much honey, coconut, or coconut oil we put in it, it still tastes like mushy cardboard.
Julianna looking over my shoulder said that her White Oats that we found at the market hoping they would taste like instant oatmeal would be added to this list because we both agree that no matter how much honey, coconut, or coconut oil we put in it, it still tastes like mushy cardboard.
Gift Giving in Rwanda
If you gave it with one hand like we did for the first week to all our hosts, that communicated that you are giving something away that you really don’t want. It would be similar to tossing the other have of your apple to someone and calling it a gift. Make sure you give your gift with both hands to show that the gift is important to you.
Tune in next time to find out why you shouldnt toss your co-workers your keys.
Drew and Julianna
September 10th... From Julianna
I suppose its about time to give my side of things; I know many of you have been concerned for my health. Thank you for all of your prayers during that time! It certainly meant a lot to me. I now only have a small cough to show for the long week of sickness.
To begin, coming here seems like a dream now. Drew and I were just moving from one thing to the next until all of a sudden we found ourselves in Africa. Honestly, I have travelled quite a bit in the past, so I really wasn’t shocked by anything. I wasn’t suprised by the things I used to be suprised by when I travelled. For example, I wasn’t shocked by the huge piles of unfinished construction in the middle of the roads, the people walking along the road at all hours of the day and night, hearing a language you don’t understand 24/7, women with babies strapped to their backs and huge bundles of sticks or banana bunches on their heads, etc.
What was truly shocking to me was the internal response that I had to arriving here. Usually my drive to learn, explore, and soak in information coming from anywhere or anyone flourishes in times like these. Usually, I can’t stop asking questions or trying to get to know people, language, and culture. Rather, this time around, I felt completely apathetic to the people and the place. If it weren’t for Drew asking all the questions and attempting to connect, I probably would have completely checked out. I’m still trying to understand why that happened.
Maybe it had to do with arriving here exhausted from an extremely busy year, or possibly settling in for a year rather than a seasonal trip. It may be because I invested so much when I went to Pakistan, and now all of that knowledge and language is lying dormant within me, and I feel little motivation to have to same thing happen with this one. Maybe it was getting dropped off at a strange place that did not fit even the closest description of what I had in my mind as to where we would be living without knowing what to do, who to talk to, where to eat, or anything.
To catch you up on some first hand experiences that were going on while these feelings persisted, we had a very characteristic welcome to the town. Soon after our arrival the pastor we had met at the meeting in Gahini showed up to take us to meet his family. When we showed up at his house, he had at least four other guests there and more showed up throughout the evening. Over the course of the next couple of hours there were poeple who took turns preaching, praying, and singing. There were people at the four corners of the room speaking all at the same time, possibly in tongues. Thankfully I had the pastor’s baby, so I was occupied with rocking and holding her. That kind of lifestyle is so foreign to me. I know that I can learn a lot from the way in which they conduct their spiritual lives, and I am looking forward to doing so, but for now it was just…awkward. Especially because we couldn’t understand what they were saying.
Eventually, either I rubbed off on Drew, or Drew’s true sentiments emerged, and we both just cried. We were just laying in bed listening simultaneously to the call to prayer and the hundreds of bats that live above us in the roof. I have never been so close to wanting to quit before. So far, I have noticed a GREAT difference in the internal approach to a two-week short term trip, and the emotions that arise when you are settling in for a year. I’m sure I will write more about that topic at another time. We almost felt as though we were going through a bit of mourning; mourning for our families, and the security of a familiar place. Its not that we do not want to be here; we both feel strongly that this was a good decision for us. Even so, that does not mean that one does not go through heartache or confusion when making a transition as monumental as this. This is reality, and we would rather give you that then a false impression of how “strong” we are.
Additionally, getting so sick so soon after arrival was very difficult. It was as difficult on our morale as it was on my body. I felt as though it would never end, and I had no context for dealing with sickness in this place. I was so misearable. When we finally went to the hospital to get a test for Malaria, we sat on a brick wall outside the consultation room for five hours. I was so misearable that at the end I was just crying. It didn’t help that they kept asking if I was pregnant, and finally I asked why, and the doctor made a motion with his hand signifying, “Oh you know, that big belly you have goin on.” I fake smiled and told him no, Drew just patted my leg in affirmation. We finally got the results from the blood work and walked home. That night the medicine they gave me made me throw up and made me feel ten times worse. Eventually though, knowing it wasn’t Malaria, it started to subside. Then I just took ib profien to get rid of the fever long enough to move around. When I came out of the sickness, I started coming out of the depression too, and it has continued to get better daily.
Here I will share one of the things that has been the most difficult for us. Today in Gahini at our meeting with the bishop, he asked how everything was going. I shared the struggles we were having with loving the people because we can’t connect with them. The university students spread out all over the lawn every day just stare at us as if we aren’t even human while we are doing our rounds making lists of repairs, etc. One day we were helping a grounds worker pick up all the chairs and trash that the students left behind while it was raining, and there were students looking out of the building pointing and laughing and taking pictures of Drew. Oh buddy, you better believe I almost marched right up to them and gave them a piece of my mind about respecting people and property. Then I checked myself and my attitude and decided against it. Another day I was trying to help rearrange in the restaurant and there was a group of guys at a table snickering and then I saw they were all looking at me and laughing. One of them started saying “I love you mazungo (white person), I love you!” I was trying to explain that I was married and that was not an appropriate thing to say to a married lady. In the end I just went on with my business and ignored them. Later I found out that they were making fun of us (as usual), because they think that we are too young to be married. No one can believe it! They keep telling us that we must be brother and sister. Its actually quite obnoxious. I keep thinking, “So the fact that we came from a far away country together, are working together, staying together, and wear wedding rings doesn’t leave any hints?” In fact, when Menassah came to meet with us here, he said, “So they tell me that everyone has been making fun of you!” Well, if we weren’t sure of it already, we were then. Also, the workers were so sceptical of us, and often mistook our qusetions for commands and it appeared that they just thought we were domineering, power hungry people.
Anyway, I was explaining my frustration about not connecting with people to the bishop, and he (as usual), said a very wise thing. He said, in so many words, that it is better that people are negatively interested rather than apathetic. If they are apathetic you have no grounds to connect, whearas, at least we have their attention at this point. He said that ground like that is some of the most fertile for good relationships.
Drew and I thought about it and came to the conclusion that it is often the case. For example, there is one worker, Frank, who is the only one out of the staff who speaks a bit of English. He is about our age, and is the receptionist here. In the beginning he was trying to help us get around and came to sit with us very often. He is pretty awkward though, and speaks very slowly and is always saying, “whaaaaaatttt?????” when we are speaking to him. During our little phase of depression and sickness, we were feeling so discouraged to begin with, and then all we really had was Frank, but Frank, really? We didn’t look forward to struggling through awkward conversations with him. I happily report that he is now probably our best friend here. He is always following Drew around trying to help, and the two of them pal around daily. Its hilarious because Drew has been playing tricks on him, like one time Drew was messing with some loose ends of an electric thingy, and Frank was like “oh careful, careful!” Drew preceeded to pretend like he was getting electricuted and so they were both just screaming hysterically until Drew started laughing and laughing and, after recovering, Frank started laughing too. Drew and I always laugh because if Drew calls him on the phone he will say “Frank!!” and Frank will respond with “oui” the French word for “yes” (in a very high pitched, relaxed tone), “weeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!”
A few nights ago there were some other mazungos staying here, and they were going to have seven people for dinner. The workers were panicking because usually there are not many people for dinner, and it is such a long process for cooking. So Drew and I went back into the kitchen and began to help them. It was probably the most fun we have had since being here. I was chopping vegetables, Drew was washing dishes, and we were all trying to teach each other our lanugage and laughing at the other ones when they got it wrong. We heard John Claude in the next room practicing, “I. am. dryyyyying. the dishes.” Over and over. That night really helped us to connect with the workers.
Also, we just finished teaching three of the workers, Frank, John Claude, and Dative how to play spoons! Even though half of the people there couldn’t speak English, we laughed so hard and were all laughing and screaming trying to grab the spoons first (if you don’t know how to play that game, find someone who does and learn, it is a blast!). So, we are much encouraged when it comes to the department of people.
Along the lines of lanuguage learning, here are a few stories. Since everyone has such a hard time believing that Drew and I are married, he has made sure to introduce me, up front, as his wife. He makes a strong point of saying, “Umugure wanje”, or “my wife”. Recently, he was making just such an introduction, when the lady chuckled. We asked an English speaker in the car why she was laughing, and he said, “well, you just introduced her as your leg.” Apparently, the word for leg is just one letter off, and Drew had been introducing me to everyone as his leg. That didn’t help in the laughing department.
We recently had a laugh of our own though. In Kinyarwanda the letter ‘K’ can be pronounced two ways, like the C in Candle and like the CH in Church. We laugh because whenever we ask Frank, “Frank, where is Francois?” He says, “He is in the chicken!” In fact, anytime anyone wants to direct us to the kitchen, they call it the chicken. I finally told Frank the truth of the matter and we all had a good laugh.
We have had two language lessons from a girl in our church, Betty, so far, and we are very excited about continuing this process. Also, I am beginning English classes with the staff on Wednesday. I am anxious and nervous as I always am before I teach, but I know that as soon as the class begins, I will be filled with so much joy, motivation, and love, as I always am when I teach. I am really looking forward to it.
Please pray that my cough goes away. I don’t mind it as much, but Drew needs to sleep, and so does the girl staying next door. Also, please pray for my heart and mind to be open to this culture and people. A year is a long time, and I have to connect if I am going to be effective in my witness, my teaching, or anything else. Please pray for business here to pick up so that we can at least pay the staff for August, and then work on renovations.
Thank you all, especially those who made it all the way through this novel.
Julianna
To begin, coming here seems like a dream now. Drew and I were just moving from one thing to the next until all of a sudden we found ourselves in Africa. Honestly, I have travelled quite a bit in the past, so I really wasn’t shocked by anything. I wasn’t suprised by the things I used to be suprised by when I travelled. For example, I wasn’t shocked by the huge piles of unfinished construction in the middle of the roads, the people walking along the road at all hours of the day and night, hearing a language you don’t understand 24/7, women with babies strapped to their backs and huge bundles of sticks or banana bunches on their heads, etc.
What was truly shocking to me was the internal response that I had to arriving here. Usually my drive to learn, explore, and soak in information coming from anywhere or anyone flourishes in times like these. Usually, I can’t stop asking questions or trying to get to know people, language, and culture. Rather, this time around, I felt completely apathetic to the people and the place. If it weren’t for Drew asking all the questions and attempting to connect, I probably would have completely checked out. I’m still trying to understand why that happened.
Maybe it had to do with arriving here exhausted from an extremely busy year, or possibly settling in for a year rather than a seasonal trip. It may be because I invested so much when I went to Pakistan, and now all of that knowledge and language is lying dormant within me, and I feel little motivation to have to same thing happen with this one. Maybe it was getting dropped off at a strange place that did not fit even the closest description of what I had in my mind as to where we would be living without knowing what to do, who to talk to, where to eat, or anything.
To catch you up on some first hand experiences that were going on while these feelings persisted, we had a very characteristic welcome to the town. Soon after our arrival the pastor we had met at the meeting in Gahini showed up to take us to meet his family. When we showed up at his house, he had at least four other guests there and more showed up throughout the evening. Over the course of the next couple of hours there were poeple who took turns preaching, praying, and singing. There were people at the four corners of the room speaking all at the same time, possibly in tongues. Thankfully I had the pastor’s baby, so I was occupied with rocking and holding her. That kind of lifestyle is so foreign to me. I know that I can learn a lot from the way in which they conduct their spiritual lives, and I am looking forward to doing so, but for now it was just…awkward. Especially because we couldn’t understand what they were saying.
Eventually, either I rubbed off on Drew, or Drew’s true sentiments emerged, and we both just cried. We were just laying in bed listening simultaneously to the call to prayer and the hundreds of bats that live above us in the roof. I have never been so close to wanting to quit before. So far, I have noticed a GREAT difference in the internal approach to a two-week short term trip, and the emotions that arise when you are settling in for a year. I’m sure I will write more about that topic at another time. We almost felt as though we were going through a bit of mourning; mourning for our families, and the security of a familiar place. Its not that we do not want to be here; we both feel strongly that this was a good decision for us. Even so, that does not mean that one does not go through heartache or confusion when making a transition as monumental as this. This is reality, and we would rather give you that then a false impression of how “strong” we are.
Additionally, getting so sick so soon after arrival was very difficult. It was as difficult on our morale as it was on my body. I felt as though it would never end, and I had no context for dealing with sickness in this place. I was so misearable. When we finally went to the hospital to get a test for Malaria, we sat on a brick wall outside the consultation room for five hours. I was so misearable that at the end I was just crying. It didn’t help that they kept asking if I was pregnant, and finally I asked why, and the doctor made a motion with his hand signifying, “Oh you know, that big belly you have goin on.” I fake smiled and told him no, Drew just patted my leg in affirmation. We finally got the results from the blood work and walked home. That night the medicine they gave me made me throw up and made me feel ten times worse. Eventually though, knowing it wasn’t Malaria, it started to subside. Then I just took ib profien to get rid of the fever long enough to move around. When I came out of the sickness, I started coming out of the depression too, and it has continued to get better daily.
Here I will share one of the things that has been the most difficult for us. Today in Gahini at our meeting with the bishop, he asked how everything was going. I shared the struggles we were having with loving the people because we can’t connect with them. The university students spread out all over the lawn every day just stare at us as if we aren’t even human while we are doing our rounds making lists of repairs, etc. One day we were helping a grounds worker pick up all the chairs and trash that the students left behind while it was raining, and there were students looking out of the building pointing and laughing and taking pictures of Drew. Oh buddy, you better believe I almost marched right up to them and gave them a piece of my mind about respecting people and property. Then I checked myself and my attitude and decided against it. Another day I was trying to help rearrange in the restaurant and there was a group of guys at a table snickering and then I saw they were all looking at me and laughing. One of them started saying “I love you mazungo (white person), I love you!” I was trying to explain that I was married and that was not an appropriate thing to say to a married lady. In the end I just went on with my business and ignored them. Later I found out that they were making fun of us (as usual), because they think that we are too young to be married. No one can believe it! They keep telling us that we must be brother and sister. Its actually quite obnoxious. I keep thinking, “So the fact that we came from a far away country together, are working together, staying together, and wear wedding rings doesn’t leave any hints?” In fact, when Menassah came to meet with us here, he said, “So they tell me that everyone has been making fun of you!” Well, if we weren’t sure of it already, we were then. Also, the workers were so sceptical of us, and often mistook our qusetions for commands and it appeared that they just thought we were domineering, power hungry people.
Anyway, I was explaining my frustration about not connecting with people to the bishop, and he (as usual), said a very wise thing. He said, in so many words, that it is better that people are negatively interested rather than apathetic. If they are apathetic you have no grounds to connect, whearas, at least we have their attention at this point. He said that ground like that is some of the most fertile for good relationships.
Drew and I thought about it and came to the conclusion that it is often the case. For example, there is one worker, Frank, who is the only one out of the staff who speaks a bit of English. He is about our age, and is the receptionist here. In the beginning he was trying to help us get around and came to sit with us very often. He is pretty awkward though, and speaks very slowly and is always saying, “whaaaaaatttt?????” when we are speaking to him. During our little phase of depression and sickness, we were feeling so discouraged to begin with, and then all we really had was Frank, but Frank, really? We didn’t look forward to struggling through awkward conversations with him. I happily report that he is now probably our best friend here. He is always following Drew around trying to help, and the two of them pal around daily. Its hilarious because Drew has been playing tricks on him, like one time Drew was messing with some loose ends of an electric thingy, and Frank was like “oh careful, careful!” Drew preceeded to pretend like he was getting electricuted and so they were both just screaming hysterically until Drew started laughing and laughing and, after recovering, Frank started laughing too. Drew and I always laugh because if Drew calls him on the phone he will say “Frank!!” and Frank will respond with “oui” the French word for “yes” (in a very high pitched, relaxed tone), “weeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!”
A few nights ago there were some other mazungos staying here, and they were going to have seven people for dinner. The workers were panicking because usually there are not many people for dinner, and it is such a long process for cooking. So Drew and I went back into the kitchen and began to help them. It was probably the most fun we have had since being here. I was chopping vegetables, Drew was washing dishes, and we were all trying to teach each other our lanugage and laughing at the other ones when they got it wrong. We heard John Claude in the next room practicing, “I. am. dryyyyying. the dishes.” Over and over. That night really helped us to connect with the workers.
Also, we just finished teaching three of the workers, Frank, John Claude, and Dative how to play spoons! Even though half of the people there couldn’t speak English, we laughed so hard and were all laughing and screaming trying to grab the spoons first (if you don’t know how to play that game, find someone who does and learn, it is a blast!). So, we are much encouraged when it comes to the department of people.
Along the lines of lanuguage learning, here are a few stories. Since everyone has such a hard time believing that Drew and I are married, he has made sure to introduce me, up front, as his wife. He makes a strong point of saying, “Umugure wanje”, or “my wife”. Recently, he was making just such an introduction, when the lady chuckled. We asked an English speaker in the car why she was laughing, and he said, “well, you just introduced her as your leg.” Apparently, the word for leg is just one letter off, and Drew had been introducing me to everyone as his leg. That didn’t help in the laughing department.
We recently had a laugh of our own though. In Kinyarwanda the letter ‘K’ can be pronounced two ways, like the C in Candle and like the CH in Church. We laugh because whenever we ask Frank, “Frank, where is Francois?” He says, “He is in the chicken!” In fact, anytime anyone wants to direct us to the kitchen, they call it the chicken. I finally told Frank the truth of the matter and we all had a good laugh.
We have had two language lessons from a girl in our church, Betty, so far, and we are very excited about continuing this process. Also, I am beginning English classes with the staff on Wednesday. I am anxious and nervous as I always am before I teach, but I know that as soon as the class begins, I will be filled with so much joy, motivation, and love, as I always am when I teach. I am really looking forward to it.
Please pray that my cough goes away. I don’t mind it as much, but Drew needs to sleep, and so does the girl staying next door. Also, please pray for my heart and mind to be open to this culture and people. A year is a long time, and I have to connect if I am going to be effective in my witness, my teaching, or anything else. Please pray for business here to pick up so that we can at least pay the staff for August, and then work on renovations.
Thank you all, especially those who made it all the way through this novel.
Julianna
September 6 Post
Yesterday we had a very encouraging and productive meeting with Mannaseh the diocese secretary. Mannaseh is hilarious. His personality is so joyful and effervescent. He is about my height and quite skinny but is always dressed to the hilt. That seems to be the norm here. As a child one would wear shorts, sneakers, graphic tee shirts, teens usually wear things that are more trendy and stylish if they have the money to do so, and almost always, the socially respectable men look sharp. Dress shoes, dress pants, oxford shirts, sport coats, etc. Much like in America, you can spot those who are in a higher pay bracket by what they are wearing. Many people, including myself in the beginning of the planning stages for this trip, make the mistake of thinking that one would need to dress down for a trip to Africa. For example I brought my work boots, some jeans, and all the gray Hanes T-shirts I owned. My mindset was that Africa is dirty, I will be fixing things while being in and out of the mud, so I will need jeans and tees that can get dirty. I was so wrong. Everyone is very conscious of their clothing and their appearence. Here, a person needs to look the part that they fill. For this reason I have worn almost exclusively my Oxford shirts tucked in, so that I fit the part of Manager.
With all that said, the meeting was very encouraging. Mannaseh,our dear friend, came to take us to meet some people he knew, but instead we ended up talking about the conference center for 3 hours and not going to see his friends at all (this is typical here). It was encouraging because Mannaseh’s english is very good and his coherency is at such a level that Julianna and I can speak at a normal pace using our normal vocabulary and be understood. I never appreciated the convenience of speaking without needing a translator until now. We discussed staffing problems, plans of attack for fixing those and other issues, strategies to attract more customers, renovation plans, etc. He was able to communicate some very important things that we had been needing to communicate with the former manager who still has a great deal of influence here, but cannot speak English at all.
For fear of being called fickle I won’t say we are in the swing of things, but after today’s meeting I can say that we are both more at ease than before. In Kinyarwanda we say buhoro buhoro which is something like step by step, slowly but surely, etc. Here they describe it as, “You know how you say in America, ‘slowly by slowly’.”
Until next time, know that Julianna is still improving, she has developed a nasty cough but is so so so much better than before. Also be praying that God will miraculously provide the money that the conference center needs to repair and renovate the necessary things. (There are many!) Another thing to pray for is for our relationship with the University students. We know some from church, but our greatest exposure to them comes because the university rents our three conference rooms for study space for the students. They have taken to spreading, literally, all over the whole center; in the yard, in the bungalows, etc. Right now some have befriended Julianna and I like Julius, Anacharid, and Alfonze. While others, like that guy over there under the bungalow, have taken to making fun of us. I am not sure why but something about us makes them laugh and point sometimes, when I figure it out, I will let you all know. :)
Thanks for all of your support in every form. We have recieved so many encouraging emails that help us know that we are loved.
Drew
With all that said, the meeting was very encouraging. Mannaseh,our dear friend, came to take us to meet some people he knew, but instead we ended up talking about the conference center for 3 hours and not going to see his friends at all (this is typical here). It was encouraging because Mannaseh’s english is very good and his coherency is at such a level that Julianna and I can speak at a normal pace using our normal vocabulary and be understood. I never appreciated the convenience of speaking without needing a translator until now. We discussed staffing problems, plans of attack for fixing those and other issues, strategies to attract more customers, renovation plans, etc. He was able to communicate some very important things that we had been needing to communicate with the former manager who still has a great deal of influence here, but cannot speak English at all.
For fear of being called fickle I won’t say we are in the swing of things, but after today’s meeting I can say that we are both more at ease than before. In Kinyarwanda we say buhoro buhoro which is something like step by step, slowly but surely, etc. Here they describe it as, “You know how you say in America, ‘slowly by slowly’.”
Until next time, know that Julianna is still improving, she has developed a nasty cough but is so so so much better than before. Also be praying that God will miraculously provide the money that the conference center needs to repair and renovate the necessary things. (There are many!) Another thing to pray for is for our relationship with the University students. We know some from church, but our greatest exposure to them comes because the university rents our three conference rooms for study space for the students. They have taken to spreading, literally, all over the whole center; in the yard, in the bungalows, etc. Right now some have befriended Julianna and I like Julius, Anacharid, and Alfonze. While others, like that guy over there under the bungalow, have taken to making fun of us. I am not sure why but something about us makes them laugh and point sometimes, when I figure it out, I will let you all know. :)
Thanks for all of your support in every form. We have recieved so many encouraging emails that help us know that we are loved.
Drew
September 4 Post...some good things
Greetings again,
Thankfully Julianna is improving slowly. Today she ate some rice and carrots which we have come to understand is like saltines and chicken noodle soup to everyone here in Rwanda. Anytime anyone asks how she is doing they say “Jus geev huh some lice and calots”.
After posting the blog the other day and hearing from many people how it came across I think some clarification is in order. Though i do not regret anything I said about our current situation or what we are feeling, I do want to pull the curtain back just a bit further in order to shed light on some of the good things about our situation.
From the very moment we arrived we have been treated as nothing short of family. The Rwandan people that we have come in contact with are so generous. Its a funny sight to be served a breakfast of an entire loaf of bread and literally a dozen bananas with a giant thermos of homemade African tea. Its funny because I don’t believe there is a person on earth that could eat that amount of food for breakfast, Its great though because they are so so so generous with what they have.
Our room is, in fact, as I described it in the former post. But I failed to mention that it is one of the nicest rooms that the hotel has. I am definitely thankful for all that we have, but the purpose of this blog is for us to process what is going on here and what is going on in our minds as we adjust to our new and very different situation. I hope that I did not come across as critical of this culture at all because I am not. I am only struggling as I transition from America to Africa.
To continue with the some of the positive things here, upon hearing that Julianna was sick, she has been the only thing that people talk to me about when I am out and about. They are so concerned for her well being, asking how she is, praying for her in church and in private, wanting to come see her regardless of how much I hint that its not a good time : ) Our new friends here are so compassionate that I dont know how to respond.
This morning was Sunday, the second time that i have attended the Church in Nyagatare. The singing and the dancing, the adoration of God, the way that he is incorporated into their lives is something that is very admirable. Westerners tend to categorize and compartmentalize everything including their spiritual lives. Here it seems their spirituality is somehow intertwined in an inseperable way with everything; work, play, fellowship, meals, ministry, travel etc. Just yesterday I was sitting with Julianna outside watching it dump buckets of rain and hail down on the red clay and the tin roof. It was difficult to tell what was louder, the rain or the children in the nearby gazebo stomping, clapping and singing to God for hours and hours of their own accord. This was a foreign sight to my eyes.
There is much to be said about the pros and cons of each and every culture on this planet. There is even more to learn about those cultures; pray that Julianna and I can learn from this culture, be comforted by these people, and honor God in this ministry.
Drew
P.S. Pictures will have to wait until we make a trip to Kigali where I can buy a cord to connect to the computer. Come to think of it, the cord I need is much like the cord I forgot to pack.
Thankfully Julianna is improving slowly. Today she ate some rice and carrots which we have come to understand is like saltines and chicken noodle soup to everyone here in Rwanda. Anytime anyone asks how she is doing they say “Jus geev huh some lice and calots”.
After posting the blog the other day and hearing from many people how it came across I think some clarification is in order. Though i do not regret anything I said about our current situation or what we are feeling, I do want to pull the curtain back just a bit further in order to shed light on some of the good things about our situation.
From the very moment we arrived we have been treated as nothing short of family. The Rwandan people that we have come in contact with are so generous. Its a funny sight to be served a breakfast of an entire loaf of bread and literally a dozen bananas with a giant thermos of homemade African tea. Its funny because I don’t believe there is a person on earth that could eat that amount of food for breakfast, Its great though because they are so so so generous with what they have.
Our room is, in fact, as I described it in the former post. But I failed to mention that it is one of the nicest rooms that the hotel has. I am definitely thankful for all that we have, but the purpose of this blog is for us to process what is going on here and what is going on in our minds as we adjust to our new and very different situation. I hope that I did not come across as critical of this culture at all because I am not. I am only struggling as I transition from America to Africa.
To continue with the some of the positive things here, upon hearing that Julianna was sick, she has been the only thing that people talk to me about when I am out and about. They are so concerned for her well being, asking how she is, praying for her in church and in private, wanting to come see her regardless of how much I hint that its not a good time : ) Our new friends here are so compassionate that I dont know how to respond.
This morning was Sunday, the second time that i have attended the Church in Nyagatare. The singing and the dancing, the adoration of God, the way that he is incorporated into their lives is something that is very admirable. Westerners tend to categorize and compartmentalize everything including their spiritual lives. Here it seems their spirituality is somehow intertwined in an inseperable way with everything; work, play, fellowship, meals, ministry, travel etc. Just yesterday I was sitting with Julianna outside watching it dump buckets of rain and hail down on the red clay and the tin roof. It was difficult to tell what was louder, the rain or the children in the nearby gazebo stomping, clapping and singing to God for hours and hours of their own accord. This was a foreign sight to my eyes.
There is much to be said about the pros and cons of each and every culture on this planet. There is even more to learn about those cultures; pray that Julianna and I can learn from this culture, be comforted by these people, and honor God in this ministry.
Drew
P.S. Pictures will have to wait until we make a trip to Kigali where I can buy a cord to connect to the computer. Come to think of it, the cord I need is much like the cord I forgot to pack.
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