African Weekend

This weekend was the first weekend I stayed in Nyanza with no muzungu visitors. My plan was to finish grading and catch up on my novel. The power problems last week put me way behind in my word count and I need to get cracking if I will finish by the end of March.

Friday

Yves (my headmasters nephew) and my friend) invited me to his college graduation. He said it started at 8AM so iIgot on the 7AM bus to Butare (the closet big town). I arrived in Butare and walked 10 minutes to the campus of the National University of Rwanda. I found Yves and his family and around 8:45 we found seats. Around 9:30 AM, my friend Claire called me. She was also at the ceremony as her boyfriend was graduating and was sitting in the special seating for “Invited and Honored Guests” so I found her and decided to stay there as the view was better. The actual ceremony started around 10:30 AM (Africa Time Baby) and was mercifully only 3 hours long. It was much like a American graduation only the speeches were a reasonable length at 5 minutes max a piece. They called the names of all 2000 graduates and those present stood according to the “school”” or major they were in.  The thing that struck me was the acknowledgment in the program and speeches of the difficulty the language switch had caused. Even the “honored guest” the Minster of Education admitted that the people graduating had started University while it was francophone, adjusted to a bilingual model and then transitioned to English only. The program even thanked teachers and students for persevering through the “painful” process. While the fact that this whole process was/is painful is not remarkable, I found the institutional acknowledgment surprising. While there is certainly a lot of support for the transition to Anglophone (evidenced by World Teach, Peace Corps, VSO’s presence, as well as highly paid Ugandan teachers who have been recruited for Secondary schools) I haven’t encountered a lot of official sympathy for the students and teachers who have suffered through the process.

After the graduation was over, I started to think about finding Yves and his family. By the time I reached the ground of the the stadium seating, Yves’ cousin Justin was standing there waiting for me. He took my arm and guided me back to the family. They were all heading back to Nyanza and I was heading in town to see my friend John. They insisted on driving me instead of letting me walk the ten minutes. So instead, I waited 45 minutes for the car to be brought around and everyone to mobilize.  Now I am so used to this I barely notice, I just sent John a text that said I hadn’t escaped yet and he should eat without me.

Saturday

I woke up Saturday and went for a fab run! No buddy, but I ran farther then I have here yet. I got back and was hanging out cooking and getting ready to buckle down on the novel when there was a small voice at the gate “Jan-E, Jan-E” I went and found Manudi, Jalique and their mother Jackie. They said they were going to the Stadium and indicated they wanted me to come. I said I had to shower but would come after.  It was so cute they wanted me to come that I couldn’t resist. So I made my way over and found them. The event was what appeared to be Rwandan live soap opera. There was small stage with a drunk man and his wife fighting. There were 2 kids lying on the ground as well. I had no idea what they were saying but people were laughing so I figured it was a comedy/drama. The second skit featured a man and his wife waving a blue mosquito net and fighting. Then, 2 women emcees got up and started saying Malaria again and again. So, I think they were anti-malaria skits… maybe to educate people on why its bad etc. Actually a great idea to use humor and live entertainment as a draw. In a town like Nyanza, if there is something at the stadium, everyone goes. The best part of the plays were the way my buddies took care of me. When  sat down, Jackie gave me a scarf and covered my legs and arms. If the scarf moved and some skin was exposed, someone quickly covered me again.  At one point,  littlest boy-Jalique- wanted to wear my sunglasses, everyone around hushed him and indicated I needed them to protect me from the sun.

When it became a real danger that I might burst into flames from the brutal rays, I decided to take my leave and walked into town. I was meant to visit the school secretary Agnes and her husband Justin and was mildly worried about the visit as my English is hard for her to understand and was pretty sure that trying to get there would be difficult. I called Agnes and told her that I was in town. She said “okay, call me when you are in town” But no matter how many times I tried to say slowly and clearly that I was already in town, it didn’t seem to register. About a half an hour after the original call, she said to go wait at the bus station and someone would come get me. About twenty minutes into my wait, I started to worry. Agnes is 7.5 months pregnant and I had visions of her hauling up huge hills for hours to come and get me! While I was waiting, this woman with only the top and bottom buttons of her shirt told me that I needed to put on pants (my dress only hit the tops of my knees…gasp).  I did not mention that her breasts were exposed but smiled and nodded. The 2 children came up and asked me for money. When I said no, they circled me staring at my feet. I think it was my tattoos they were inspecting or maybe they were shocked at how dirty they were. Then, a crazy woman came up and asked me for money. I said no and she licked her finger and then wiped it on my knee in some weird pattern. Then she threw the money she had at me.  Finally, not Agnes, but her sister in law Jane (!) came up. I felt better that it wasn’t pregnant Agnes who had trekked to get me, but Jane (it’s really Jeanne but they say it the same as my name) does have a fairly pronounced limp. We started back to their house and about 100 yards from the bus stop, Jeanne turned into an alley. “Hmmm” I thought, maybe we are running an errand. No, this was their house! 1 minute away from where I had been standing for 0ver half an hour and 2 minutes from the place I made the first phone call an hour before. Tee hee. Agnes and Justin’s house was very nice and we had a great visit. Agnes was having her braids taken out, so she sat wrapped in a cloth while her cousin picked out the braids from her head. As soon as I sat down, they put in their 3 hour wedding video! Justin (who is teacher at my school) narrated it for me and we spoke about some of the differences between American and Rwandan weddings. (dowries, milk, tribal dancing and escorting the couple to their wedding bed being some of them). Around 6 I said I had to go, but Agnes told me no. I would stay and then we would leave together later as she was going to her night accounting class. So around 7, she and Justin walked me to the bus stop and he put us on motos.  About 2 minutes into my 5 minute moto ride, the man’s motorcycle died and I had to (gasp!) walk the last 100 yards in the dark. This was a new experience as whenever I am out after dark, someone always escorts me and holds my hand.

Sunday

Within ten minutes of waking up this morning, I managed to break my water spout. I have one water spout in my “courtyard” (a generous term for an outdoor concrete rectangle) and it drips. Besides the waste of water, I think its attracting bugs. I always place a bucket under the spout at night to collect the water, but it invariably overflows and creates puddles in the yard. So, this morning I was trying to tighten it when the spout snapped off in my hand. I spent 10 minutes seriously considering calling my brother and waking him but I examined the damage and deduced all I needed was a new tap and a wrench. Thankfully, the water was off because I realized that as soon as it turned on, it would be a proverbial shit show (excuse the expression). So I went to the hardware store and bought a new tap. All I needed was a wrench to get the remaining bit off the pipe and attach the new one. I didn’t want to call anyone as it was and still is as I write) Sunday and everyone was “going to pray” as they say here. So I decided to go to school and search a wrench there. There would have to be adults supervising the kids and my friend Sixbert is live in staff. After tracking him down and explaining the problem, he said “Nooooo, no, no” to me doing it myself and told me that he would come by later with someone to help. Again, the old New York Jane thinks “ just give me the wrench and I will do it now”. But the new Rwandese Jane says “okay” and goes home.  I made some lunch and sat down to bang out some novel pages. Alas, NO power and my computer had no juice! 

The gang came by as I was sitting on the grass reading, having admitted defeat to writing. They wanted me to go see football at the stadium with them. I agreed and just as we were walking out. POWER ON. I guess its better to hang with my buds than do work anyway. So, I walked to the stadium with Elizer (not Alieze as I thought), Manudi, Robertson and Jalique. I carried Elizer the last half of a mile, which everyone thought was SO hilarious. We watched some football in the packed “stadium” (translation… grass field with covered seating for 100 people and 2000 people more standing around the field) and then returned home.  This time I carried Elizer on my shoulders. We managed to  leave the older boys Robertson and Manudi and acquire Elizer’s brother Bertrand. Bizmani also came home with us, saying “Sawa Janie, Sawa?” (Are you okay Jane?) every few minutes as I carried Elizer.

Not to sound like a afterschool special, but all the tiny little events of my days show well taken care of I am here. Everywhere I go people go out their way to make sure I am looked after. I don’t think its because that to be muzungu is seen as better.  It’s more that I am a special guest who is fairly fragile and totally clueless. In a town with very minimal diversity, Muzungu’s are a special attraction, not simply for being white, but for being different and thus exotic. 

It’s a really nice feeling to be so far from home and have people so willing to protect you. I know that a lot of the time my experiences sound like misadventures, but the reality is that when my power goes out people make phone calls until its back on. I could call any Rwandan in my phone because of a spider in my house and they would gladly come over and kill it **(not that I would… I am tough). My impression is that it is  a very giving and helpful society and people take the welfare of guests seriously. Even though I let out a string of obscenities that would make a sailor blush when my power goes out, living here is really a rather pleasant experience.

Footnote** If I called a Rwandan and asked them to kill a spider, they would come over, but it would be anywhere from 1-7 hours later. They care, but time isn’t really a priority.