forgiveness?

This afternoon a young man came to visit me.  I’d forgotten his name and nearly forgot where I met him.  “Narcisse,” he reminded me (when I asked could he please spell it - a “trick” I think I’m using when I forget people’s names), and I remembered that I met him at the market on Friday afternoon. I’d gone too late to buy anything and instead chatted with some women who were sitting off to the side.  He is a cousin of one of those women, visiting on his school holiday (he’s in university in a location I also forgot). He’d walked back to the health center with me that evening and said he would like to learn English and asked for my phone number.  Many people, especially young men, say they’d like to learn English and I don’t want to give out my phone number to everyone who asks so I told him he could find me at the health center if he wanted to talk to me again.  I saw him again on Saturday and he said he specifically wanted to know how to describe family members in English.  Since he was so specific with his request I told him I could chat with him on Sunday.  He said he’d come by the health center then.  I was only a little nervous that I’d arranged a date with him and after confirming with my site-mate I was pretty sure this was merely an English lesson, not a date... hopefully.  But I missed him on Sunday, apparently, so he showed up again today. Tuesday. 

So we drew a family tree and labeled all the people.  He was surprised - pleasantly surprised - that aunts and uncles are simply aunts and uncles and that nieces and nephews are all just nieces and nephews.  In Kinyarwanda each relation has a different title.  You can’t call your brother’s kids the same thing you call your sister’s kids.  Additionally your mother’s brother and your father’s brother have different titles.  AND if I’m talking about my mother’s brother it is a different word than your mother’s brother, and even different if it’s his or her mother’s brother.  Confused yet? Families here are complicated.  And big. 

So when we finished the family discussion he said he had so many questions for me.  Supposedly, I’m the first American he’s ever talked to.  He asked where I’m from and how I got here.  I described the purpose of Peace Corps and the application process.  I told him a bit about my family and going to school.  We were back and forth in English and Kinyarwanda.  I was pretty pleased with our effective communication.  Then he asked if I chose Rwanda or if I was placed here.  If you know anything of my journey, that’s a very interesting question... I think it’s both... 

I’ve been at my site for almost two weeks now.  That’s not a long time... at all.  I’ve been in Rwanda for almost 3 months.  Not a long time either.  I don’t know a whole lot about this place.  But I have read some things and written some things and learned a little already.  I was lucky enough to be blessed with another Peace Corps volunteer at my site.  She is lovely.  Her name is Genevieve (I think this is another little blessing from God, as there is another very important Genevieve in my life that I think of and miss dearly on a daily basis), she’s from the southeast, worked at camp and on a ropes course, and likes to hike, camp, and climb.  She’s people like me.  She’s leaving Rwanda in November.  Her time is coming to an end just as mine is beginning.  Seems like that’s how it always is, right?  Ah, transitions... a constant theme.

I lived my whole 9 months in Missoula either settling in or preparing to go.  During the second half of this time I was focused, academically and logistically, NOT emotionally, on Rwanda.  In preparation (even though I didn’t know my placement when I registered) I took a counseling class on forgiveness and reconciliation.   This idea of reconciliation is constantly in the back of my mind as I walk around every day, making friends, building relationships, and learning from a people who are all too familiar with trauma, pain, violence, and reconciliation.  

This was thrust to the forefront of my mind when Narcisse asked why I wanted to come to Rwanda.  But how do you carefully and respectfully tell someone you are here to learn about their pain?

Narcisse continued with his questions and asked if I knew of the history of this country, specifically the events of 1994.  I was told in my PC Pre-Service Training that people don’t really like talking about it, especially to outsiders, but here was this young man bringing it up only the second time I met him.  I had a hard time finding words... even in English.  He got to his point and asked why, knowing how violent the people of Rwanda can be, and knowing how much tragedy they’ve experienced in recent years, I would want to come here?  “Don’t you have fear?” he asked me.  He looked back at the family tree we had drawn.  He point to his father, his aunts and uncles, and a few of his cousins.  “I lost all of these family members,” he said.  The only words that found me were, “I’m so very sorry. I can’t imagine...”  

I would like to say that I regained my composure, but, honestly, I was close to tears the whole time.  I was able to gracefully manage my emotions, though, as I explained to him that anyone - everyone - is capable of the kind of violence that happened in Rwanda.  Given the circumstances, a war like the one here could have happened in my country too.  “People are people,” I said, as I still try to believe it.  I wanted to tell him that there was a genocide in America (even though it's not officially labeled as such), the difference being it wasn’t stopped and was fairly successful in wiping out an entire civilization, but I think that is a conversation for later, and even then, how can I try to compare the two histories.  I tried as best I could to explain that, no, I’m not afraid, that Rwanda stands out as a successful country among others in East Africa... that the infrastructure, the leadership of the government, the healthcare system, the economy are all growing successfully and Rwanda is setting an example for other nations.  

In the end he said, “You have no need for fear, Amanda.  We are strong, we have a very strong president, and we love peace.  You are welcome here.”  

These words from a young man who lost his father and most of his large family at a young age.  Who still lives in the place where that happened.  Who understands more than I may ever what it really means to forgive and make reconciliation.  

After I walked him out to the gate of our compound and said goodbye I came home and organized some things in my house.  On my last night of that forgiveness and reconciliation class in Montana we met at our teacher’s house.  Everyone shared their stories of their final projects.  Many were very personal.  As a part of one classmate’s project a poem was shared.  As I walked out the door that evening someone handed me a copy of the poem.  Somehow this is one of the few things that made it into my bags to Rwanda.  I must have shoved it in my school bag and never taken it out.  I found it among some PC paperwork last night.  The last stanza is this:

We forgive mostly not from strength

but through imperfections, for memory

wears transparent as a glass with the pattern

washed off, till we stare past what injured us.

We forgive because we too have done

the same to others easy as mudslide;

or because anger is a fire that must be fed

and we are too tired to rise and haul a log.

From "How Divine is Forgiving" by Marge Piercy

I won’t pretend to understand forgiveness and reconciliation from the perspective of a Rwandan.  I don’t even think I will ever be able to understand what it means here.  I’m still wondering if you can have reconciliation without forgiveness... and if some things are unforgivable... What does forgiveness even mean?  Can all injuries be looked past?  

But I do understand injury, suffering, and anger.  Both sides of it.  

So as I am transitioning in and Genevieve is transitioning out, and we talk daily about our lives on this side and at home, we inevitably talk about our own injuries, suffering, pain, and anger as well as the pain and suffering we know, are getting to know, and have known here in Rwanda.  One reason I think it’s so important to be here is to look directly at the suffering that my own culture ignored and only tried to stop when it was too late.  I want to, as much as I can, feel it and acknowledge what happened.  As a human I feel a responsibility to the ones who died and to the survivors.  And I want to know that, somehow, I am a part of it.  And, maybe, I can bring a little peace and love where there was pain.  And maybe, hopefully, I, too, can learn how to “ ... stare past what injured us...”

and so I took the oath

“What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? - it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.” -Jack Kerouac

This was the card I pulled from a bag of quotes given to me by a dear friend just as I departed from Montana to make the trek to Rwanda as the Peace Corps truck was driving away after dropping me off.  It perfectly describes the way I feel right now (and how I felt leaving Missoula... and Rome... and before that Nairobi... ) and facilitates a sweet mix of homesickness, fear, relief, and excited anticipation.  

I’ve been at my PC placement site for a week now.  It’s been good and it’s already been difficult.  I passed all my tests in pre-service training, including the language test with acceptable scores, but this doesn’t mean the first few months at site are going to be easy or that I’m completely prepared.  I have a long way to go with my language skills and a lot to learn about community health in Rwanda (even though my village thinks I’m fluent and that I’m a doctor).  

This week I have...

... been making babies cry in record numbers as I sit in reception of the health center shadowing the intake nurse.  I’ve also gotten much better at numbers in Kinyarwanda as I tell people what the scale says when they step on it.  They love it and almost everyone laughs at me. 

... been (mostly) successfully cooking dinners on a hotplate in my unfurnished (except for one table and one chair) house.  Then sharing said dinners with the nurse who stays on the compound during the week and shows up at my door at dinnertime each evening.  A few nights she has come over early in the evening and said simply, “don’t cook.”  She cooks for me and I share with her what I’ve made.  So far I’ve been very well fed.  

... walked my ass off visiting folks in my village and neighboring villages.  My health center serves 27 villages.  We are in a volcanic mountainous region.  The soil is crazy rocky and my colleague (who’s legs, in all seriousness, are the same height as my shoulders) is the tallest man I’ve ever met. I’m jogging beside him trying to keep up.  Mostly I’ve been successful at introducing myself, but yesterday at a community meeting (with about 300 people) I was asked to give some kind of health message and I embarrassingly declined.  What do I have to offer yet?  I don’t even know how to say much past wash your hands and use family planning.  

... been labeled daughter, mama, girl, old lady, intelligent person, rich person, clueless person, strong person, available person (for marriage), doctor, foreigner, and probably more that I couldn’t understand. They don’t yet know what to make of me.  One things for sure, though, they’re welcoming me with joy and encouragement. 

... found comfort in pictures, letters, and coffee from home (thank you, my IYFD sisters).

... kept fit by shaking my groove thang in my empty house along to workout videos.  When neighbors show up at my door I am sweaty and embarrassed as I try to explain myself.

... spent too much money today at this cute cafe with “free wifi” that doesn’t work and electricity that’s been out most of the morning. 

... been overwhelmed at the tourist and missionary groups that just came in for lunch. 

... enjoyed the mix of Boys II Men, KC and Jojo, Toni Braxton, and  Shania Twain on the playlist at said cafe. What is it with music in African restaurants?  It's always so good. 

... taken a few pictures, but regrettably have left them in my camera in my house in the village.  Next week... hopefully...

... been surprised by the fact that even after living in Africa for more than 5 years now I still haven’t integrated my understanding of time.  When folks say something starts at a certain hour, what they really mean is that we will start thinking about walking there at that time.  Yesterday I went to a meeting that was more than an hour’s walk away from my health center that supposedly began at 2 p.m.  We left at 1:55, arrived at 3:10, but not to worry, as the executive secretary of the sector didn’t arrive until 3:15 and began the meeting at 3:30.  He also answered his cell phone during his hour-long speech, which bothered no one.  Why I still show up for work each day at the scheduled 7 a.m. staff meeting time I don’t understand.  Perhaps I will integrate... folks in America are annoyed at my lateness... maybe I’m somewhere in between cultures in my understanding of time.


... took an oath to become a Peace Corps Volunteer in Rwanda.

There’s so much more I want to write about, but I’m limited by internet availability, time, trips to town, and your attention span.  I’m going to try to write once a week and I’ll include reflections on my pre-service training experience as well.  But, for now, here’s a little of what I’ve been up to in the first week of being a sworn in, constitution defending, capacity building, culture exchanging, PCV. 

I already miss you!  If you comment, I'll read it and try to respond!

look! Rwanda is beautiful.

 peace and friendship

 out my window

 Mama Sarah

 the crazy kids I hang out with at home

 my besties. they're my little cousins. the taller one's name is Emma. thank you, Jesus, for giving me an Emma.

my front door. come on over!

in Rwanda

Things I have learned being an umusitajyeri wa Peace Corps (or Peace Corps Trainee for English speakers) in Rwanda...

-Peace Corps is serious about cultural immersion.  Just barely more than 24 hours after arriving in country I got two hours of language training and was dropped off in a Rwandan home in which no one speaks English.  I was given a water filter, med kit, and mosquito net, and a “Mama Sarah.”  All of these things have proven to be wonderful.  

-Teaching an old dog new tricks is painful.  Would you like to try learning Kinyarwanda? Yeah, I didn’t think so.  I have found my brain and body very resistant to learning this language.  It’s difficult.  About once each hour this week I have heard myself saying, “why the hell am I doing this? my life was pretty good back when I lived in the English speaking world.”  I don’t speak French or Kinyarwanda... yet... but I will, oh, I surely will. Just you wait. 

-Rwanda is not Kenya.  But the similarities are beautiful and comforting.  I only wish we drank as much tea here as we did in Kenya.  And what little Kiswahili I have (more than I thought!) is giving me a little street cred and something to talk about with new Rwandan friends.  But Rwanda is not Kenya and I miss Nairobi.  If you're reading this from Nairobi, I miss YOU!

-I am a very happy vegetarian here in Rwanda.  That’s right, friends, I have gone green with my diet.  And Rwanda has welcomed me well.  No mysterious chicken parts, no greasy goat, no chewy beef... it’s all beans, rice, and veg for this girl.  And nobody’s asked me to eat meat at all. 

-Melatonin is my new best friend.  The older I get the worse jet-lag is.  And, like my Kenyan home-stay experiences, this one comes complete with blaring radio beginning at 4:30 a.m. and ending at 1:00 a.m.  Yep, that means, if my body would let me, I could sleep quietly for 3 and a half hours. But thanks to a donation of melatonin I got a full 7 hours last night! yea!! and thank you sweet new PC friend who packed a lot of vitamins. 

-Ndi umuzungu, sintwa umuzungu, nitwa Amanda. I am a white person, but my name is not white person.  Very useful phrase.  Now the whole neighborhood knows my name and that’s what they shout when they see me walking from miles away. 

-I will happily and gratefully take mephaquine for two years (unless I have another scary dream like last night).  Yes, I used to be that expat who lived comfortably in the city tat too high an elevation for mosquitos and bragged (only a little) about not taking it and not getting malaria when I went into those malaria areas.  But after the malaria lecture and reviewing PC policy (i’m such a rule follower and commitment holder) I am compliant.  The smart doctor with the French accent had nothing to do with it. ;)

This Peace Corps experience is going to be difficult and rewarding.  Challenging and natural.  Scary and familiar.  It will go by fast and the days are already passing so slowly.  I hope I can handle it.  

I’ve been in Rwanda for just more than a week now and it feels like I’ve been here forever.  I’m safe and sound and staying with the sweetest grandmother and three of her beautiful grandchildren.  We don’t talk a whole lot because right now all I can really say is “He has a dog,” “you have a cow,” “I want beans,” but I’m beginning to understand a lot of what they say.  I have a few verbs and a few nouns and am slowly uncovering this language puzzle.  There are also some great people here with me in my Peace Corps group.  I’m beginning to, yet again, make friends with some good people. 

I'll be doing training and a homestay for the next nine weeks before I move to my permanent work site. Hopefully in the cool mountains! :)

My internet connection is sketchy at best, as is the electricity, so the blogging I promised to do might be a little more sporadic than I hoped until I figure something out.  I have to space out my computer's battery life over the no-electricity-access days that I have so I'm not able to add any pictures this time.  Next week I'll get some up, I promise.  Thanks for reading whenever I can write!

much

this week...

... I left Rome. i was sad. the day i left Anne Grace was born. what a beautiful baby she is! thank God for life! hopefully i'll get back that way very soon to hold and snuggle her.

... i went to Las Vegas! i saw a lot of lights, pretty girls, skin, drunk people, dance moves, people kissing, feather boas, sequins, lights, food, alcohol, lights, elvis impersonators, lights, characters (elmo, transformers, some sort of skanky Barbie, Buzz Lightyear, and more). it was a lot of a lot. and it was pretty fun. i made some good memories with some great girls. and i shook my groove thing. good thing it was dark on the dance floor and i didn't embarrass myself too badly. and strobe lights make everyone look like a great dancer, right? right?

 viva Las Vegas! this is the view from our hotel room. with many humble thanks to my dear friends sweet grandmother who had some hotel rewards that she needed to use before they expired. what lucky girls we are to stay in a sweet hotel with a beautiful view! 

and no, this isn't the second coming of Christ, it is the inside of a Vegas night club. the light is coming from the stage where there were dancers wearing Marie Antoinette-esque wigs and dancing with feather boas. it's a bad picture, but i think it kind of gives the idea of the mania that is Vegas. bright lights, lots of people, and hysteria. fun times.

... but then, i couldn't handle being in canyon country in the Southwest without visiting a wilderness area (also i don't think i could handle two nights in Vegas in a row). so a friend and i made a little trip... 

we were only in this state for like 20 minutes

 

Zion National Park

The Great White Throne and The Vestibule

... went to Zion National Park. what an experience! this is truly one of the most beautiful places i've seen. wow. Zion is also "much." much beauty, much aridness, much rocks, much sand, much color, much sunlight, much Spirit, much peace, much quiet. i fell in love again. we camped in 15 degree weather. oh the pain of being in love! we watched the stars change in the night sky. what beauty in love! we rented tents and sleeping bags (2 for each of us!!!) because we couldn't fit camping gear into our luggage on the plane. oh the financial burden of being in love! being in the park, sleeping outside, climbing Angel's Landing (i don't have pictures, but you should look it up), driving through the desert stirred in me a spiritual connection. i don't have words for it yet. maybe there aren't words. maybe this isn't the place for those words. it was a lot.

 ... i went to California!!! hello West Coast! actually, i'm still here. i drove from Vegas to Orange County with my friend from school. and now i have the honor and pleasure of visiting two very bright and beautiful freshman women at Azusa Pacific University. what a joy they are to me! my sweet sisters. i have already been encouraged by great conversation, lots of laughs, and seeing them with their new friends and doing really well in school!  there's so much goodness about being here with them: from sleeping on the floor of the dorm room to eating in the cafeteria to watching them make plans and participate in meetings and driving around LA. it is much. much goodness.

when in Disney... (ok, but really we were only in downtown disney which is where all the gift shops are)

 

... i worked on a class for school. this might seem like the least exciting part of my week. i'm taking an online class called Trauma, Healing, and Domestic Violence. actually it's pretty great. i'm working through a healing curriculum designed for survivors of domestic violence. each week we're asked to do a reflection on what we read, write, and the activities we do. i went to this website, copied and pasted my reflections into the box, and it turned my reflections into this beautiful "Wordle." what a cool way to see all i've learned! it's been pretty intense and i've learned a lot about myself, the world, what i want to do, recovering from trauma, and... much more..

... i will go back to Montana... FINALLY! :) while i'm traveling, vacationing, visiting, exploring, relating, and loving, (and working a little bit), i am dreaming of my snowy home in Missoula. the more i think about it the more i think i really might make a (more permanent) home there one day (really? what am i saying? is this me?). i wonder if it will lose its romance when i get back to five feet (YES, that's right FIVE FEET!!!) of snow and 30 degree temps.  we'll see. i already have plans for cross country skiing next friday after class. yes! probably not gonna lose that romance too soon...

and oh it is good to be here

i head back to Montana next week. (well, Montana via a few other awesome places!!!)  i have been so blessed to work yesterday, today, and tomorrow at good ole' wilderness.  today i helped set up a GPS course, paddled canoes at the res, drove a truck all over mountain campus with a wonderful friend, and spend time at WinShape.  what a special place it is up there!  i forget how peaceful and quiet the reservoir is.  i forget how the memories always come flooding back when i'm there.  and being there with sweet friends always brings about good words.  in the hectic-ness of being home, being car-less, sleeping in different places, and trying to see (and eat with) everyone I know in just a few days... today was a bit of a respite.  a reminder of why this place is so special to me.  

it looks like the rains have set in for the week here in GA. at least it's still in the upper 50's. hopefully i'll be outside, despite the mud, as much as possible in the next few days before i get back to the snow.

it's been a long time

well... i think i'm going to try blogging again. i read this awesome book this past semester that encouraged me to write. i'm not a great writer. but maybe if i practice i'll get better... and as i've spent some time in reflection these past few days i realize that there are so many people who i love so much and want to keep in my life, but who live so far from me. distance and busy schedules keep us from seeing each other and talking on the phone or emailing. a friend recently expressed how he has resolved to be close only to the people in his daily life. although simple and likely more peaceful, that's impossible for me. i am a connected person. i'd be really lonely. so forgive me for my absence from this space. it may have been a bit selfish. or maybe i'm being selfish now by trying to hang on to you.  ah, but i can't spend time analyzing what's right in this situation. i'll write and you read and respond if you want. or don't. and i may not even write much. this can be a non-committal relationship. ;)

i'm home in Georgia for the holidays now. right now i'm sitting at my dad's house in an empty living room (actually there are two dogs sleeping on the chair beside me) working on a project for school. i had to make a power point introduction for an online class. it required me to look through pictures and pick some out that communicates who i am. it took me about 5 hours in total, with my ancient and almost full computer freezing up and shutting down and the nostalgia of looking through years of photos of Kenya, camp, family, and friends. there are a lot of things i really really REALLY miss. i go through each day alternately loving my life and worrying that i've made a huge mistake by leaving Kenya. some days i think i could stay in Missoula forever. some days i want to get back to Kenya as soon as possible.

in my counseling class this past semester we learned about acculturation. acculturation is the process of giving up ones own cultural values for those of the dominant culture. there's a category called "marginal" in which a person doesn't really feel connected to their culture of origin, but neither do they entirely connect with the dominant culture.

in August i moved from Nairobi (after my second 2ish year stint there) to Missoula, Montana. i spent 4 days at home unpacking, repacking, and hugging my mom and dad. a few days after i got to Missoula i started classes at the University. life's been a whirlwind. some of it healthy and good. some of it unhealthy, yet somehow, still a little good. i've been home again, now, in Rome for about two weeks.

i feel marginal.

i miss Missoula. i miss Nairobi. i miss the way things used to be here at home.

in Missoula i still feel like a freshman. i don't fit in here in Rome very well anymore; i'm one of two single people with no children in the whole damn county.

but at the same time i do fit in. i fit in my weird family because none of us fit in. i am blessed to know some of the most incredible people here in Rome who make me feel comfortable and 'normal.' these relationships are life-giving.

it is good. i am grateful for this full life. at home this short season i have been able to spend time on the river with my brother; dance, hike, and play music with my best friends; see my little baby niece growing inside her lovely mama's belly; have important conversations with my mother; laugh with my sisters; and very soon i will witness "grace upon grace," as some of my dearest friends bring another beautiful baby girl into this world. (come on out here Annie! we're waiting for you!)

here are some things i've been thinking about lately. things i'd like to see again soon. i miss...

this place, these boys, and the freedom i feel when i put on a wig or costume. yep, that's me, wearing an afro and blue shorts pulled up real high. brittany is a princess. they're saying we're cougars. 

these kids and mt kenya

my pups. i can't even describe how much i miss LuLu. but i sure don't miss buying dog food.

Ethiopian food

these friends and this place:

these boys. i actually miss how weird they are and how they always say inappropriate things to me: 

i really miss..
... having tan skin.
... the equatorial sun. oh yeah, and that warm weather.
... how Kenya takes the whole month of December off
... watching TV shows all day with Kim
... camping in December
... Christmas with the Conways
... working really hard and getting only a few things done... wait, i don't really miss that.
... Nairobi traffic. oh wait, no, i don't miss that either.

things i'm looking forward to...

baking pie with this lady in this little kitchen:

more of this:

and when the snow melts, running here:

and when i'm not in school or baking or studying or running or skiing, hanging out with this guy: 

and soaking in the hot springs here:

and drinking beer here:

and learning 'how to save the world' and how to have fun with these women:

hopefully i'll write some more soon...