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.