It’s hard to believe that I’ve only been here for a short
time. The past two weeks have seemed to fly by, and though they certainly
haven’t been easy, they’ve been some of the most rewarding days I’ve had so far
(yes…as in, my life).
The buildup to leaving was a very stressful time. It seems
to be an impossible task to pack up everything you own, say goodbye to loved
ones, and then jet off halfway across the world to start a new life. Even as I
was being driven to the airport (after having finished packing last minute as always) it all seemed a bit surreal. Is this it? I’m really going to be joining
the Peace Corps?! Of course, in hindsight, the packing and flying were the
easy part. Staging in Philadelphia was the typical orientation. Topics
including hard pressing issues such as: hopes and fears, what did want to get
out of the experience, why did we join, what is the weirdest things we packed?
These two days were very hard for me, the buildup reminded me a lot of a roller
coaster, it takes forever to get to the top but you know that once you do
you’ll be in for a wild ride.
After staging we spent the next day (literally) flying, from
JFK New York to Brussels, and finally down to Kigali, Rwanda. When the plane
landed late that night, I was a mess. To put it nicely. I had thrown up, slept
way too much, had no idea what time it was (or what day for that matter). As we
descended the steps I was nervous, excited, panicked, eager, anxious. As I saw
my bag coming down the baggage claim belt I was relieved and ready. Before I
knew it we were shuffled out and into vans that would normally house…hostages
(?), and taken to the Peace Corps compound in downtown Kigali. The air was cool
and misty, and as we unloaded bags it began to rain lightly. The first night at
the compound was interesting. Some people zonked out, while others (myself
included) rolled around for most of the night. Add to that some of the crazy
side effects from my malarial prophylaxis and it was not a good night. I fell
asleep promptly around noon the next day during a quickie language class (quickie only in the sense that it was
meant to teach us enough to navigate our first night with the host family).
Our group is a small one composed of all health volunteers.
We range in ages 22-(well there is someone older but there is no way I’m going
to ask how old), but I would say on
average about 27. We come from different backgrounds, races, religions, states
(although 4 from Wisconsin!), and experiences. Despite all of this, we’ve come
to know each other well over the past few weeks and have bonded like old
friends. Which is good, because without a good support network this would be a
nearly impossible task.
After spending two days at the compound, we hit the ground
running. We packed our bags and were bused to the District of Kamonyi, where we
will be living for the first ten weeks of service. In the center of Kamonyi is
the Peace Corps hub where we meet for technical training twice a week. The
first day we entered the hub the entire one half of the room was full of
Rwandan families. One by one a family would stand and say their name, and the
director of Housing would announce their new son/daughter. It was full of
awkward moments, but the whole time we were laughing (some crying) and almost
dying of excitement. My host dad was there to greet me and eventually take me
to my house. My dad is the town tailor, and our house lies on the main road (or
The Strip, as I like to call it).
Along with my host mom, I have a little brother and sister, 12 and 7. As far as
living situations go, I couldn’t have gotten luckier. Each day is new and
exciting, and of course full of awkward moments.
Training is definitely an intense process, and perhaps the
most intense component is learning the national language of Rwanda, Kinyarwanda.
I’ve read in some places that Kinyarwanda is one of the most difficult
languages in the world to learn, and I would be apt to agree. I wish I could go
back in time and kick myself in the balls for ever thinking Spanish was a
challenge. A few reasons why: it’s a tonal language (so depending on what
syllable you put emphasis on the meaning of the word can change), almost every
word looks the same (memorizing vocab lists is near impossible), there are
sixteen noun classes (English has two), and everytime I want to tell someone
that I am a volunteer I have to say ‘Ndi
umukorerabushake.’ Despite the difficulties, I feel like I am making
progress, and I’m excited to see where I’ll be at in another eight weeks.
All in all this has been an incredibly rewarding experience
and it’s hard to believe that it’s just getting started. Internet here is
spotty, and none of the modems work with my computer. Because of that I can’t
really check facebook that often, but really…that’s a good thing. My plan is to
write up blog entries on Word, and then just upload them to the internet once I
track down someone with internet. It seems impossible to describe everything
that’s happened, so I’ll leave you with some of the craziest/best/worst/
moments so far.
Sipping home brewed banana beer out of a jerry can. Gross. Being called muzungu everywhere I
go. Annoying but I’m getting used to it.
Sitting through a five hour church service.
Horrible! The satisfaction of carrying on a conversation with someone in
Kinyarwanda. Rewarding. Looking up at
the night sky and seeing more stars than ever before. Watching a storm cloud
rush from one mountain to yours. Feeling the fog descend and seep in through
the windows. Watching the sunset from your front porch and pinching yourself
because you’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful.
Incredible.
