Dearest friends and family,
I made it safely to Rwanda :)
I think this may be there first time I have arrived to Kigali during the
daylight. I know it was my first time to fly Ethiopian Airlines.
Let's just say, they're not my favorite airline and the food was worse than any
school cafeteria in memory. Think bland gristle and guar gum. I had
significant layovers in both Washington D.C. and AddisAbaba, so I am pretty
exhausted. Plus, since I was delayed a week (after being taken out by
that nasty stomach virus that is going around), I missed my friend and
colleague, Patty. So, instead of having a few days to adjust and hang out with
Patty to plan the program's next year, I will probably just crash tonight to be
up bright and early for a full day of teaching tomorrow.
As always I was greeted warmly by my friend Emmy, but this year he had
his wife and two small children in tow. Luckily I had a San Francisco
snow globe and a toy trolley car wrapped and stuffed in the bottom of my
bag. I had bought them in the airport for just these two little
guys. For Emmy and his wife it was refurbished Samsung phones from
Amazon, and for Christophe (the house boy our program sent to college who then
kept being the house boy), a Golden State Warriors ball cap. I also
handed out sunglasses donated by my baby brother, Rhett.
Every year I come, this place has changed. This year is no
different. Developments in infrastructure, new businesses, and an
increasing number of white people piling through the passport lines herald the
rapid economic growth here. On the drive from the airport Emmy and I do the
same recap every year now: how much we like each other as friends, where he got
his newest watch, how many times I've been in Rwanda, which of the previous residents
that have joined me did we like the best, which famous Americans have been in
Rwanda, etc. This year it was Leonardo DiCaprio apparently.
Emmy drives me to the volunteers' apartment in Nyamirambo
(affectionately called NyamiramboVegas by Emmy) so I can get settled in.
The noise is minimal at this hour (3pm), but it will be at a soft rage tonight
and every night thereafter. It is a neighborhood that attracts young
people, mostly men, to drink, play loud music, play billiards, and show off
that their cars have anti-theft alarms. I avoid the scene mostly but have
found it appropriate in years past for watching soccer while eating goat on a
stick. Apparently that is a strange thing for a woman to do, but I get
away with it because I'm a muzungu.
I usually go with Emmy to the airport to pick up the Stanford residents
that join me on these trips, but tonight I will hang back at the
apartment. Cynthia arrives around 7pm but there are two others Emmy needs
to collect, so the car will be too full for me to tag along. I'm trying
to stay awake but feel like I've been drugged after such a long travel
time. I'm definitely dreading the morning alarm already. The
apartment feels comfortable, kind of like a second home. I halfway unpack
my suitcase, drink some cold, whole, milk from the fridge and plop down on the
bed to write to you good folks. It's always so nice to be back.
It's comfortable. On my eighth year, as I watch the confusion and anxiety
on the faces of those passengers who are clearly here for the first time, I
realize how second-nature this place has become.
XO
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