17 march 2010
for the first time in probably months. Which might seem unhygienic to some, irrelevant to others. While I might be less particular about shaving my legs these days, rest assured I at least shampoo what's up top every 24 hours or so - which I know is a lot more often than some of you who even have the luxury of running water! Okay, so I conditioned & combed my hair tonight. Big deal. But it kinda is. it allowed me to see how long it's getting - nearly shoulder length now.
You know, in the past few years, every time I've gone through some kind of pretty-big-for-a-young-American-woman change (defining/questioning/testing morals, values & identity, breakups, new dreams, ect) I've either cut my hair, pierced something or heck - tattooed my bum. Just a week or so after arriving in Rwanda I had a friend chop it all off for me, cutting my hair shorter than it's probably been in, well, ages. In high school though - I had hair that could allow me to go topless without being indecent, but no one knew that. Why? I kept it all tied up. So concerned about straightening, flat irons and keeping fly-aways tucked away, I was too insecure, too worried about looking like everyone else. HA. I'm living in a village in Rwanda. The closest I can get to looking like anyone else here is wearing wax-print, their traditional dress, or I guess covering my body in charcoal - which does happen from time to time. I'm different, right? I turn red, my nose is peeling, my hair is blond, ect. I'm done worrying about straighteners and drama and I'm ready to embrace the tangles & mess. I figure that growing out my hair is just as much, if not more of a change, than cutting off it again and again.
So, we'll see how it goes.
Lately I've been starting things I haven't finished - which is pretty unlike me considering how much more value I give to follow through rather than good intentions. I've started two posts but didn't give them complete thought, never wrapped them up with a ribbon and a bow and sent them out at the www post.
I think a few aspects of them are worth sharing, so here you have it:
From 11 March 2010
Today must be a day of cliche proverbs because for one reason or another, I'm full of them:
If you want to have a garden, you must plant some seeds first.
Those who are patient enjoy the ripest fruit.
The context for the first.
It was a beautiful morning and not knowing if the sunshine would last, I decided to take a walk before class (which was inevitably canceled due to an insufficient amount of energy making the use of computers impossible) this morning. On my way, I noticed that there were many new greens sprouting up all over the mountainside where only a few weeks ago the villagers spent their days digging up and turning over the soil. I realized that I could have greens now too if only I had put the energy and effort into planting a garden.
This second one, about the ripest fruit..
This afternoon I just couldn't wait any longer.
Last weekend I bought a papaya at the market (250 RWF = 50 cents). That was DAYS ago and I was thirsty for some fruit so, knowing by touch that my papaya was still incredibly firm, I decided to go ahead and cut it open anyway with hopes that I'd find it soft and juicy inside.
wrong.
It was so hard and so not ready to be eaten, I felt defeated. Half the food in my house, if I don't get to it in time, spoils (I really try to prevent this from happening) and the other half is devoured by the rats (I try to keep this from happening too - can rats jump?? because one way or another, the get into everything - no matter how unreachable I think I've made it).
Goodness. I'm not a patient person.
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From 13 March 2010
The other day I met Eric,
a little boy who, when he's walking, waddles and swings his arms all about, but who, when he's running, holds them stiff, up at an angel behind him, as if this makes him more aerodynamic. The air rolls off his big ol'gumball belly and his elastic waist band hardly hugs his bottom, promising to let his pants fall off at any given moment. he doesn't even pause to tug them back into their proper place, but rather continues trudging along at full speed, momentarily covering his coin-slot only for gravity and the gusto of a 3 year old boy to expose it again seconds later.
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Today I left the house with my backpack. I was walking the route I've walked so many times before. All of the villagers see me and assume I'm on my way to Musangabo - which is true about 95% of the time. For one reason or another though, I had it in me to see something new - or to see the same old with a new perspective. Next thing I know, I find myself glancing up the road in front of and then back behind me, just to see if the coast was clear. People are really getting used to seeing me these days, so they don't follow or stare quite as much as they used to.
The coast was clear. Up I went.
I couldn't say for sure if the path I was taking was man-made and actually a "foot" path up the mountain or rather if it was just washed away Earth from all of the heavy rains. Either way, I wanted to be certain that on my little adventure off the usual track, people wouldn't witness the muzungu falling flat on her face if the stones and gravel beneath her feet gave way.
As I climbed, I could feel my heart beating in my ears. That's no exaggeration - but the view kept becoming more and more spectacular, luring me further and further towards the sky.
I eventually reached a small path through the eculuptius bushes to a little home. Deciding that wandering up was enough adventure for the day and that I didn't need to show up in some person's living-room, I stopped; caught my breath.
Realizing my fear of heights, and feeling like a kitten stuck up in a tree, i sat down on top of the world, under the shade of a couple eucalyptus bushes to read a book called "Half the Sky" - all the while taking in the other half stretched out over the lake before me.
Reading this book lately (as well as attending an event called "Operation Smile" in Kigali last weekend) is helping me to more clearly define some life goals of mine. The other day I made a list in my journal of what I want my future "career" to encompass:
- girl power
- literacy
- photography (the problem is I don't want to miss out on the hands-on-ness of bigger picture life by always being behind the camera)
- safe sex education/health
- underprivileged communities
Girl power might sound cliche, but I'm really thinking I want to dedicate my life to empowering young girls and women.
Being a big sister is the most important thing to me in this life - so why not pursue something I care so deeply about? I don't want to abandon the amazing family I have, I guess I just want to expand that concept of sisterhood - and I think in many ways I already have, being an RA, a camp counselor, ect. It's just really important to me. Something I truly treasure.
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Back to the future;
17 March 2010
Selfishness is something I've been thinking about a lot lately.
Are humans innately prone to be selfish?
Is it a survival tacit?
I don't understand, or maybe I do, but I'm uncomfortable with the answer.
I mean, I know I've always been one to swing by the Costco free sample tables more than my fair share of times - and it's not because I'll go hungry if I don't take advantage of the opportunity, but because, let's face it, who doesn't love free stuff?
The reason I bring it up is because every time I try and do something special for my students, like when we wrote the poems for International Women's Day - and 3 of my markers went missing, or last Friday when I had my students put together a scavenger hunt around school campus to practice using prepositions and identifying prepositional phrases and then had bonbons to share with all of the teams - well shoot. What was otherwise a really joyous occasion (and hopefully a good learning experience), we'd marched back to the classroom across the football field together, me leading the way with waves of students, arms wrapped around the shoulders of one another, cheering and singing "BINGO BINGO BINGO BINGOOOO BINGO BINGO!!" behind me - much like a team might celebrate a huge victory - while students in other classes peeked out their windows to see what the American was up to today - but as soon as I opened my bag of lollies, a shark-week-like feeding frenzy began. Students from other classes snook in among the chaos, my students would move from their spot on the shared desk benches to the other side of the room, sneaking their hands in, grabbing for seconds.. a bag of 100 lollies, which should have been TWO TIMES ENOUGH for my 44 English students - was suddenly nearly empty and there were still loads of kids grabbing. GRABBING. ah, I'm getting worked up just recalling it. Just yesterday one of my students asked me to define "monster" for him and what I should have said was "remember that one time I brought candy to class for you guys.. and then you all turned into little monsters". ohmygoodness. Eventually I got so fed up of being swarmed and grabbed at I put the few remaining candies away and left the room. Pacifique understood "they're being impolite". Yes, Pacifique, they are.
Not that I can truly blame my students, I'm embarrassed to say I'd likely act the same way! It's just really eye opening, you know. It's like the other day when I went for a walk and passed two men on the street. The stopped to greet me, big smiles, shaking my hand (which was offered with reluctance on my part considering H1N1 is supposedly going around the villages), and they made conversation in Kinyarwanda, asking how I was, where I was going, ect.. and then one of the men brings up money. I look at the other man, just to make sure I understood correctly and he confirmed my suspicions. "Amafaranga, 100" repeats the other man again. Disgusted, I withdrew my hand from his grasp and said "Really? Are you really going to do that??" I guess I should be able to just brush it off by now, but I've gotta tell ya, that put a big cloud in front of my sunshine and it hung around in my skies for the rest of the afternoon.
Money. Really?
The kids in my village hardly even ask me for money these days and when a few of the wise-guys primary school students do, I just turn, give them a look that says "You've crossed a line" and they go running in the opposite direction.
Here I go again, wanting to end this without actually finding the finish line.
It's St. Patrick's Day.
I wore my NOLA St Patty's Day parade '09 beads to class, gave all of my English students green smily face stickers and pointed out Ireland on the map to them, but honestly, more than anything, I just wanted to be home today. In East Lansing, with my sister, decked out in green & white, drinking buckets of green beer on Grand River, taking in the warmth of spring, acting like the American college student I used to be (I generally really dislike a lot of things about winter, but I absolutely love and miss the rebirth of spring). Much like on Halloween when I spent my day building a school for Umuganda, knowing my friends on the other side of the world were out in massive celebration and indulgences - it's really hard not to feel like I'm missing out. My sister has been 21 for 5+ months now and I haven't even had the opportunity to take her out for a proper drink. I don't think I'll get that chance until she's 23 and I'm 24. I miss her a lot. Every day. And on days like this, I really miss America too.
Happy St. Patty's Day. Enjoy a green brewskie or two for me, will ya?
ps i hate mosquitos.
