16 October 2009
hey,
go turn on a light.
go get a glass of water from the tap.
go get a snack from the fridge.
go take a hot shower.
go flip on the tv.
go flush a toilet.
go surf the web.
go put on a pot of water to boil.
go throw in a load of laundry.
go eat a bar of dark chocolate.
go cuddle up on a sofa.
go tickle your toes on the carpet.
go relax in your bed.
now, sit back and think about how many conveniences and comforts we take for granted in our everyday lives.
Oh my gosh, and for the love of God, go eat a fresh, vegetable-filled salad and a chipotle burrito!! Gosh damn, that'd be sooo good right now. Beans & rice was cool for a while.. but the combo is getting really, really old.
I'll tell ya one thing we do have here that rocks my socks - avocados. And I'm not talking the ones you buy at the grocery store and bring home with hopes that they'll ripen by the end of the month. No. These avocados are probably 2.5 times the size of any avocado you've ever laid eyes on. These avocados are so ripe and snackable that you can tell because when you pick them up at the market and shake them, you can hear the pit rolling around inside, beating the insides of the fruit, ready to escape. And unlike those rock-hard ones we get at Costco/Kroger/Meijer (& heaven forbid, Walmart).. these avocados don't cost a small fortune. The other day we picked up 3 for 150 Rwandan francs. That's 10 cents a piece in US$. Hot damn, that's a deal if I've ever heard of one... and being a recent college student, I know a bargain when I see one.
Alright, so other than avocados, our diet here lacks in anything to call fresh, raw vegetables. Yeah, we have cooked spinach and green beans and carrots and what not with meals most days, but I think you can understand why I'd be so excited about getting to my site and starting a garden. Oh! I did some research today too and found out that a goat's price depends on its age, but that I should be able to get a goat for about 10,000 francs ($20 USD). I don't think you can put a price on companionship, someone to come home to at the end of the day, huh? We'll see. Andrea, our PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Officer) said I wouldn't even need to have my goat get a rabies shot.. and this is exciting news because pet dogs require them and I think they can be a little pricey.
So today's victory:
I hand-washed what at home would be probably half a load of laundry.. but here broke down to be 3 buckets full. Let me start by saying that the thought to simply stop wearing clothes to avoid having to do that again crossed my mind. I think many of has have seriously considered starting to go to commando instead. (it's more culturally appropriate than nudity, I'm guessing).
Here's how it goes, for those of you, like myself up until today, who've never hand-washed your laundry.
- fill up a bucket of water. (much easier done in the States than here in Africa)
- put in your whites.
- scrub the crap out of them with a bar of soap (ours had elephants on them, super cute but didn't make the experience any more pleasurable).
- then scrub the clothes on themselves "one by one" as they kept telling us.
- then scrub them on your wrists.. they're a hard surface.
okay, done with that?
- now move the clothes to a different bucket that has some kind of powdered detergent in it (to cover up the BO left in your shirts - because who knows if that bar soap really did anything in the first place??)
- let clothes sit.
- repeat the scrub scrub scrub steps.
(all while throwing your lighter colored clothes into the first bucket to begin your second load).
- once you're semi-convinced that your clothes might be a bit fresher than when you started, and fully convinced that your knuckles now burn as well as your legs from squatting and your back from bending, it's time to rinse your clothes (in a third bucket).
- rinse rinse rinse. the soap doesn't really come out. you know that'll be in there for ever and for always, but as long as your rinse bucket starts to suds up, you know there's at least a fraction less of soap in those clothes than what you started with.
- hang to dry, inside out, of course.. incase someone walks by and gets dirt on your shirt, at least the dirt will be on the inside irritating your skin rather than on the outside for the world to see.
WOAH. Now doesn't that sound like a good time?
I'm sore, my arms, my back. Holy cow. "Rwandan way of life" they tell us.
Us silly muzungu's surly have a lot to learn.
Little victories. One day at a time.
This afternoon they split up our language classes, placing us by level. Needless to say, we showed up to school after lunch today prepared for our hearts to sink. There was a list to be posted announcing our new classmates, but honestly it provoked anxiety in some the same way lining up to pick teams in gym feels for the most unathletic kid in the room. Now, I knew I was by no means the top of my class, but truly, over the past 3 or so days that we've been having language classes (4 intensive hours a day), I do feel like I have come a long ways since day 1. This language has so many pronunciations totally foreign to our vocal-realm (Sorry A. Violin - I forget what the word for this is!) that half the challenge is just trying to figure out how to make the "nh" sound or whatnot. It's exhausting, sitting in our tiny, brick classrooms so many hours each day, constantly being spoken to and expected to perform in Kinyarwanda. This morning I sat down to study for the first time.. I guess my real goal was to transcribe all the notes I've taken in my book and put them in some organized fashion into my notebook. Studying. It's something I haven't done in months, and for most, it's something to be dreaded, but maybe it was the familiarity of it in such an unfamiliar place, or maybe it was because unlike speaking Kinyarwanda, it's something I have a lot of practice with and something I'm good at. It felt like sliding your feet back into an old pair of slippers, ones that hug the curves of your soles (soul) in just the right places. It was just comfortable in such a strange, friendly way. I think I ought to try to study more often, especially since we're done with language classes for the week and I don't want to forget everything we've covered. Oh, my new language class was good. I was happy to find that my new friend Bob, also from MSU is in it with me. I think we'll make good study buddies. Today he helped me to break down the word: umukorerabushake ("volunteer" in English) into bite-size pieces (peace) so that it was manageable.
Check it out, here's an example conversation in Kinyarwanda:
A: Tok, tok, tok (knocking)
B: Karibu! (come in)
A: Muraho? (hello?)
B: Muraho! Nimwicare (Hello, sit down - the "care" is actually pronounced like "chie"
A: Murakoze. Uyu mushyitsi yitwa Betty, ni mugenzi wanjye. Ni umunyamerika, ni umusitagiyeri wa Peace Corps (Thank you. This guest is named Betty, she is a friend. She is American, she is a trainee with the Peace Corps).
B: Eeeeh! Betty, utuye he? (ooh. Betty, where do you live?)
C: Ntuye i Butare (I live in Butare).
B: Ufite abana bangahe? (how many children do you have? - notice the cultural assumption that you have kids - which of course means that you're also married!)
C: Sindi umugore, ndi ingaragu (I am not married, I am single).
B: Ni byiza, turishimye (byiza is pronounced like "giza" - meaning, no worries, be happy)
A: Turatashye, murabeho! (we're going, goodbye)
B: Murabeho, murakoze (Goodbye, thank you)
Nitwa Nicole, ndi ingaragu, simfite inshuti. - that one would win over half the city.
It's funny how much importance is placed on your status.. married, single. It's one of the first things they taught us how to say, it's almost like it's asked as casually here as we ask "what do you do?" in the States. Just kinda silly.
Tomorrow's Saturday but it's still another full day of PC training. Tomorrow we will meet the host-families we've been paired up with. We will spend 4 hours or so a week with them. From the sounds of it, our time with our host families will probably be spent just helping out with whatever they're doing.. cooking/cleaning/washing. I think this may be the most practical part of our training experience, probably the most intimidating as well. How would you feel going to "hangout" solo with a family that spoke a language you could hardly introduce yourself in? At least in order to be considered for the host family position, they have to have children. The kids here are always entertaining.. or I'm becoming more convinced that it's the other way around. We're entreating to them. Shoot. It's defiantly that way around.
Just after 9 o'clock. I think it's bed time. I took another malaria pill last night. Keeps things interesting once the lights go out and my brain has time to rest, if you can call it that. These dreams are sometimes all too realistic and the mattress on my bed is all too thin.
Send your love & dark chocolate.
Murakoze cyana. Muramuke!
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