Last days of PST

Back when I was still applying for Peace Corps I remember thinking to myself that the most terrifying day would be the one where I get dropped off in the middle of Africa, alone, scared, possibly excited, and then watch the van drive off into the distance. That day finally came today and though it wasn’t nearly as scary as I thought it might be, it was still stressful enough to freak me out. The morning started early, where for the first time Peace Corps seemed to have their act together; we were informed we would be leaving around 7:30; the vans were ready to go at 7:30. Of course, we still needed gas, phone minutes, and a quick checkup of the vehicle so in all reality we weren’t out of the city until about 9:00. There were three of us in the van, and being the farthest out I was the last one to get dropped off. It was interesting for me because I got a chance to see my colleagues’ different health centers and their new homes. The first PCV described her village as ‘out in the boonies’ several times to me; of course my response was that we’re all out in the boonies. In all reality her site made Rusumo look like Manhattan. We drove for almost an hour down a dirt road that has definitely seen better days and finally reached her health center, on top of a mountain overlooking the valley. It was beautiful, but remote, and her house was small and scary. I have to give her credit; I don’t think I could handle that. The next stop was a good friend of mine who actually lives not too far from me. Her house is also a haul from the main road, but it’s a cute three bedroom right in the heart of the village. As we pulled up about a hundred people gathered to welcome their new neighbor…it was all too sweet. My installation went a little less smoothly. For starters, they took me to the wrong country. Literally. We missed our turn on the way to my health center and before we know it we ended up at the Tanzanian border. Fridays at the health centers are uneventful usually, not to mention that most of the staff heads to Kigali for the weekend, so there weren’t too many people around to greet me. Nonetheless I moved all of my stuff into my room, and have also come to the executive decision that I’m way too cheap to buy a bed frame, so I will most likely suck it up and sleep on a hospital bed for a while. As I’m writing this I can hear a million mosquitoes buzzing around my net and I forget that where I’m living is basically the malaria capital of Rwanda, so…I’m better not forget my Mefloquin!

The last few weeks of PST were difficult in many ways. Towards the end we had all spent so much time together that, in many ways, we were becoming snippy with each other, or tiring of others’ company. A lot of the people I’ve met here have become close friends, which is crazy considering that I’ve only been here for a few months so far, and I think lately we were spending too much time together. Also, many of the girls in our group had commissioned my host dad to sew them traditional African dresses. He loved the work but unfortunately it meant that I didn’t see him very much toward the end. It also meant we didn’t eat supper until eleven most nights. On top of it all a plethora of ills made its way around our group and by week eight of training I was feeling really under the weather.

Exploring Africa with some students after a day of teaching.

I remember commenting to someone else that the last week of training reminded me a lot of those last weeks of elementary school. You know you’ll see your friends again soon, but most of the group you won’t see for three months, the classroom is pretty much taken down and you are just sitting through some filler classes, and most of your time at home is spent prepping for an exam. In Peace Corps the big exam is the LPI, a language proficiency interview that tests what level you fall at. There are three groups: novice, intermediate, and advanced. Within each group you can then score low, mid, or high. To be a Peace Corps volunteer you must score Intermediate Mid on your final LPI, which is a pretty big challenge seeing as Kinyarwanda is an incredibly difficult language to learn. On my mid-training LPI I was one level away from what I needed on the final test, so I wasn’t too nervous going into it. I figured that if I didn’t pass it meant I wasn’t graded right the first time. Good news, I passed! I scored Intermediate High, which made me pretty happy because it’s one of the higher scores. Only one person in our group scored in the advanced category, but seeing as I never studied {once} while being here, my own personal ambitions weren’t quite that high. The difficulty is that some in the group didn’t pass, for those who were close to the requisite level; they receive a language contract and simply have to reach Intermediate Mid sometime within the next three months. For the others, they have to stay behind in Kamonyi and if their skills don’t improve they may have to go back. To America. It’s a stressful situation to say the least and I feel like Peace Corps should put more emphasis on the difficulty of language learning as they interview and recruit volunteers. The fact of the matter is that some learn languages very easily and others don’t. Some people already speak one or two besides English and so learning another won’t be as big a challenge. Some like to speak a lot. Some prefer learning by blackboard. There is such a variety and the consequences of not doing well on the LPI can be very stressful.

What we didn’t realize about examinations was that we would also be tested on our knowledge of all of the tech sessions we’ve had throughout the past few months. Now, I don’t want to be one to complain, and I’m not quite sure who is actually reading this blog, so, suffice to say the technical aspect of training was very poor. When it came time to take the test we were told it would be open book, only to find out after a few minutes that no, we were actually supposed to have memorized everything?? The irony is that after training, should I forget something, I have a wealth of books and notes that I can consult. Well, my grade on my technical exam wasn’t so hot. But I’m still here.

Following all of the examinations was the farewell party that we had planned to honor our host families. The party invitations that were handed out informed all that the party would begin at 2:00. Now, in America this would mean everyone would arrive at 1:30 expecting the drinks and hors d oeuvres to be ready…which is annoying. In Rwanda it meant that everyone showed up around 3:30 expecting the drinks and hors d oeuvres to be ready…which is annoying. My family didn’t show up at all, and being the only family to neglect their trainee I was feeling a little down. I was the kid at the baseball game whose dad is always too busy to ever come to a game. As each of the trainees got up to introduce their family to the rest of the party someone must have noticed the frown on my face, someone made a phone call and about ten minutes before the party ended my host mom showed up. I was surprised because I feel really fortunate that I got the family that I got, they had been an excellent family for most of the training, but I was a little hurt that no one showed up, especially on a Sunday when there is no work! My host dad later explained to me that he had called a repairman to do some maintenance in the shop and basically couldn’t get rid of the guy (I’m still not sure if this is a real enough excuse but I like my host dad so much I’ll let it fly). The party also included some traditional African dancing from our very own group of trainees. I posted a video of it, give it a look if you can because I think it’s fun and the end is hilarious. Once the party was over, the tough part came: saying goodbye. It wasn’t easy and I’m going to miss my family very much. It’s still a little surreal how quickly you can bond despite living with someone for so short a time and when the language gap between you resembles the Grand Canyon. But I know this isn’t the last time that I will ever see them again, we’ve already planned a time for December when I can join them again, so the goodbye wasn’t totally awful. After packing up my things we were off to Kigali.

We taught the Hokey Pokey to some schoolchildren.

Being in Kigali always makes me sick. There’s something about it. After living in the countryside for a few months going to a densely packed city gives you a bit of culture shock. On top of it all there are a million people everywhere, motos driving like idiots all over the roads, the sun seems the be hotter and brighter in the sky, and you get dehydrated no matter how many liters of water you drink. The Peace Corps Rwanda has its own version of a hostel, called le Case, and it’s a place where you can stay for very cheaply when you have to come visit Kigali. It’s also pretty gross. The hot showers and flush toilets that are provided do seem like quite the luxury for the dirty, tired of squatting, Peace Corps trainees, and I may or may not have showered twice a day for the duration of my stay. Our swearing in ceremony was nice little affair held at the ambassador’s house and attended by more people than I was expecting. There were speeches given in English, French, and Kinyarwanda. I spoke in English and considering that most of it was written the night beforehand I think I did an okay job. The big news going around Kigali was that Bill Clinton was there for the day. In my head I was thinking of course he’s going to come to the ceremony. He didn’t, but then again, I’m not sure I would have wanted to give a speech in front of Bill Clinton.

The day after swearing in was a nice relaxed day. Most of the group left for site installations, but a few of us who are farther away from Kigali were moved in later. We hung out in our pajamas all morning, played tons of Trivial Pursuit, ate greasy delicious Chinese food, and drank a ton of beer. If that sounds like a perfect day to you I would be apt to agree.

Now I’m here at site. What am I going to do here? I have 720 days to figure that out. Right now I need to go to bed.