Lovin' my kids, my house, and Larry

I've been BUSY! What is that all about?

School is great. I only wish I got to see my kids more -- two 50-minute periods a week per class is not much. As hard as I try in my planning, I almost always run out of time in class for all that I want to do! But we're having fun. I love that I can have legit conversations with these kids in English. Their contributions may not always be entirely grammatical, but they can make themselves understood.

We just did a really fun activity for International Women's Day where I divided the students into small groups to read and summarize a short text about a particular distinguished female. I tried to pick mostly strong black women as good role models for these kids, so we had Michelle Obama, Condoleezza Rice (though some found it hilarious that she is named "rice"), Rosa Parks, Wangari Maathai (ashamed to say I'd never heard of her before researching this project, but what a cool Nobel laureate from Kenya). Summarizing in a foreign language is not an easy task, so I was, yet again in this country, really impressed by some of the results. I also asked them to write what they had learned from the text. Actual responses: "to love each other and never care about the color of the skin," and "try and fail, but do not fail to try." Where that came from, no idea. Awesome.

Plus, my kids here are SO well-behaved! I've not had a single discipline issue so far in six weeks of teaching. When I gave my first quiz, I prefaced it with my customary ixnay-on-cheating spiel. In Mauritania, cheating was the standard, and the kids were masterful. One rolled up a tiny strip of paper inside the clear barrel of a pen; another had a friend outside the classroom toss a balled-up sheet in through an open window. But here -- I didn't see a single instance. And I'm darn good at busting cheaters. I was stunned, happily.

In grading, there are the mistakes that break your heart because they're just so far off the mark, but I prefer the mistakes that just crack me up. For instance, one kid gave me a late assignment with a handwritten note: "I didn't the homework because I was illing." (Yeah you were, son, yeah you were.) Anyway, the most enjoyable part of marking midterms for me was the fill-in-the-blank vocab section, with a word bank. Here are a few priceless errors that felt the wrath of my red pen:

- The doctor will give you INJURIES to make you feel better.
[Only if I'm looking to win a malpractice suit!]
- In a democracy, everyone has the same OPPRESSION.
[Technically I guess so?]
- Mutoni brought the SKUNK to start the fire for cooking.
[Count me out for that meal]
- The USA has more than 300 million RIGHTS.
[Interesting from an outside perspective]
In other news, I'm thrilled to announce to you that I'M IN MY NEW HOUSE!! I had to fight for it ("But the fence isn't done, and we still need to paint" -- I don't care, let me move my stuff!!), but I forced my way in about two weeks ago now. It's pretty spectacular. I'm getting all settled, still waiting for a few pieces of furniture, but I promise to give you a proper tour when it's all set up. I'm loving it, though. Here's a teaser pic of the view out my front door. The tallest mountain in the distance is Muhabura, 30 miles away on the border with Uganda. It's a volcano about 13,500 feet high.


So I got the big birthday present of getting to be in my new house! Other highlights of that day included teaching my adult English class to sing the "Happy Birthday" song to me, opening two stellar care packages (props to Teresa and my sister Brenda!), and most importantly, a shout-out on Voice of America radio. Now, please understand: VOA broadcasts worldwide. And the best DJ is Larry London, who I listen to every day. So I was giggling like a little girl for a solid hour after he wished me a happy birthday in Rwanda *and* said I put a smile on his face! OH, LARRY LONDON!

I leave you with this: for the past several birthdays, I've taken photos of myself displaying my new age. Turns out 26 doesn't work quite as well.

Odd & cheesy

I owe you a blog. I also owe you photos, in a big way. Trouble is, I was waaaaaiting and hoping to show you pictures of my new house.

BUT I STILL. DON'T. HAVE. A HOUSE.

This is my biggest point of frustration lately. When I moved to Buyoga on December 30th, they told me the house needed a few repairs and would be ready in two weeks. So, why should I be surprised that now it's March, and I've yet to move into it? Sigh. It's progressing... slowly... I repeatedly am given be-all-end-all deadlines that pass without fanfare, but it looks like I actually may get into it soon. "Soon," like, perhaps by the end of this week. Maybe. My birthday is the 10th, and lately I just have my fingers crossed that the house will be my big gift.

In other news, it's the rainy season here. Majorly. For the past week it's been coming down HARD. I understand that America's been hit with a slew of snowstorms recently, and actually the rainstorms here are quite similar. People just lock themselves inside, postponing appointments or work or school (my students can't believe when I actually show up to class, with my umbrella and rain jacket and boots). And the rural areas don't have the infrastructure to deal with such relentless deluge. Roofs notoriously leak, fields get flooded out, and rocky hillsides crumble dangerously onto roads below.

This past Friday I'd had plans to go to Kigali, but the rain would not let up. It'd been pouring all the day before, and by that morning it was still sprinkling steadily. I knew the "roads" (read: rugged dirt paths) would be a muddy mess. Remember, my primary -- and only available, normally -- mode of transportation out of my site is by motorcycle taxi.

Well, it was a wild ride alright. I was wearing my jacket over top of my huge hiking backpack, plus my awesome ginormous astronaut-looking helmet on my head. The whole time, with white knuckles, gritted teeth, and knitted brows, I was praying an inner monologue something like this: "Don't fall, don't fall, goslowgoslowGOSLOW!, oh please, oh God, oh God please..." ad infinitum. My driver navigated the way commendably, and very wisely had me get off and walk at about five different points. But even so, I experienced my first moto wipeout. It wasn't so much catapulting through the air as it was a very ungraceful slow capsize. And the consequence of falling wasn't so much danger of bodily injury as danger of getting absolutely covered in mud. Which is what happened. Plus, okay, a fabulously gnarly purple bruise on my hip and a skinned knee. What are you gonna do? We made it, which is what counts!

Part of the reason I wanted to get to Kigali so badly was to meet our newest class of Peace Corps trainees, who arrived Thursday night. There are about 35 of them, all working in the health sector. It was fun to get to chat a bit and answer some of their questions. After being in the Peace Corps for over 20 months now (is it already so long?!), it's nice to share this hard-won knowledge with people who can benefit from it. I'll be headed down to their training site in a couple weeks to facilitate some sessions.

I'm trying to continue studying Kinyarwanda when I can, although I'm busier nowadays. And truthfully I don't get a ton of opportunities to speak it on an everyday basis, since everyone at school speaks English to me (in some degree of comprehensibility). But I like to greet the villagers I pass as I'm walking to work, and of course I use it in the market to negotiate prices. Inevitably, a surprised bystander overhears me and comments to no one in particular, "Arakizi!" It's pronounced like "odd-a-cheesy," which is how I always render it in my head, and it means she knows it. It never fails to bring a satisfied smile to my face.

So that's my life these days. Odd & cheesy. And more than a little muddy.