The wedding crasher strikes again

For those of you who know me, I am a perpetual wedding attendant - I think my record for a couple of years running was seven/year.  And yes, my mother (and many others) always say to me, 'when is it your turn?'  A little while yet...

This weekend and last weekend, I attended the wedding of a colleague of mine.  Here are some photos to show you what it was like:

 At the registry office

After what appeared like hours of the officiant speaking, Manzi and Evariste finally said their vows - they had to hold the Rwandan flag to make it 'official.'  The wedding certificate was signed and then they were married :)

Then proceeded the mass of photos - the children in the matching dresses are my principal's daughters and the girl in purple is Manzi's younger sister.  My principal and his wife are in the pic on the right.  Manzi is the principal's wife's younger sister.

I was not actually invited to this part of the wedding but because I got stranded in Butare as my bus back to Cyahinda was full (and I didn't fancy braving a 1/5hr moto-ride again…), the principal kindly let me stay at his house.  I was not dressed appropriately, nor did I smell very nice (probably) having travelled on a packed bus for 2hours from Kigali…still, everyone seemed appreciative that I was there!?

The ACTUAL wedding ceremony - or at least the dowry-giving part which I also attended took place the following Saturday.  It was a beautiful occasion - not that I understood what was going on - but thankfully I was given the task of being photographer with my principal's DSLR - so that kept me occupied.  Still managed to take a few cheeky snaps with my point and shoot though…

So here I am with my colleague, Caritas (she's next to be married in February) - this was the dress I wore to the wedding…but then my principal wanted me to wear something traditional…

As I left Manzi's house, I got a round of applause from the locals who had gathered to witness the marriage - and then another round from the wedding attendants.  (I'm actually still wearing my original dress that I wore to the wedding under all this!)

The wedding set-up

Fathers sharing a drink...

The happy couple

Traditional-warrior cries/blessings

The bridal party...

Louis giving more traditional-tribal blessings - it just sounded like screams and a bit of rapping to me!

A pretty couple :)

I actually preferred taking photos of the non-official attendants…

After the dowry-giving (which took about 3 hours), the party moved onto another city for the church ceremony - I decided not to go but instead went to have Chinese food with my colleague.  It wasn't too bad either…London prices but a well deserved treat :)

Kubera iki (koo-bear-a-itchy) - WHY?

Whilst the usual storm rages outside, I thought I'd take the opportunity to write the post that has been brewing for a long time…

Last week as I rode the bus from Butare to Kigali, out of the window I surveyed the luscious green pastures that make up the landscape of Rwanda; I saw children playing on the roadside whilst women sold fruit and veg from wicker baskets and mats on the floor and then I watched as a girl, no older than 10, kneel down, bend over and pick up a MASSIVE bundle of sticks, nay branches that were probably twice her weight and three times her size and effortlessly balance them on her head.  Where she was going, I had no idea but as she began to walk, it dawned on me - I AM IN AFRICA!

So I have been here a little over two months and life, well life is life.  There are times of sheer joy and satisfaction and then there are moments of frustration and challenges but that happens anywhere…

My thoughts as I rode the bus soon turned to why I am here and what got me here in the first place.  It has been a LONG journey - a game of cat-and-mouse with a bit of Jonah (and the whale) mixed in (or perhaps not - maybe the journey here was MEANT to take the time that it did?)

The story begins OVER TWELVE years ago - I remember vividly being at church, the sermon was on missions, particularly on the local mission field but for some reason, God spoke to me and said that mine was to be somewhere that was completely out of my comfort zone - thoughts of Africa then filled my mind.  At the time I was about to embark on my gap-year before university and Africa was NOT in my travel itinerary…I promptly left the service half-way through because I did not like what I was hearing and I pushed the 'calling' to as far back in my mind as I could - and there it stayed for many years after.

Five years later I was living in Hong Kong.  Little did I know that the seed that had been sown all those years back was slowly being watered.  My church in HK was very much S.E Asia focused in terms of missions and although I was living in S.E Asia - it did not excite me - but at any mention of Africa, something within me stirred.  It wasn't until a close friend of mine told me that she had decided to leave her comfortable life in HK to move to Ghana - it was somewhat out of the blue but as soon as the words left her mouth and hit my ears, my spirit leapt - I'd never felt anything like that moment before nor anything since…I was excited, mostly for her but I knew then that my calling had returned.  This time I did not run but I began to think about it more seriously.  I started to look into ways that I could get out to Africa - but what would I offer?  It was clear that I needed to be equipped - and so began the process of becoming a QUALIFIED teacher (as sad as it is - experience doesn't count for anything without a certified qualification…)

I first heard about VSO when I began my PGCE (post grad. cert. in Education) and I loved what they stood for - exchanging skills to promote sustainability…so seed two was planted.  I looked briefly (but never seriously) into christian organisations that sent teachers out to Africa but VSO kept coming back into my thoughts despite it not being a christian organisation.  I decided to apply after completing my NQT year - I was in a bit of a limbo state as I was a maternity-cover teacher and with my contract coming to an end, it was time to consider my next move.  Yet, no sooner had I applied to VSO, an opportunity to vie for a permanent position at the school I was at arose - I was torn.  I loved the school and I would have job security but I knew that Africa was calling.    In the end, I got the position at the school and shortly after, VSO told me that they did not have a position for me…and so I happily settled into life in London.  I loved my job, I was growing ever-closer to my family and I had gained a new family through moving to my local church - life was good.

I received an email from VSO a year later asking me to reapply.  My world was turned upside down - I was comfortable, I was settled - all I could do was pray.  I'm not sure what prompted me to do so, but I reapplied - half-heartedly.  I did not want to move again but was this God calling?  With every stage of VSO's vigorous application that I got through - the reality hit me…God told me that he'd take me out of my comfort-zone, it was time to trust and walk.  I had talked for such a long time to several people about Africa, that when God calls, it doesn't mean 'now' - there's a process of planting, feeding and then harvesting…I just assumed that I'd be 'feeding' for a little while longer but evidently not.

Deciding to leave London was one of the hardest decisions I've probably made.  Aside from job security, a loving family and excellent friends, I had a new niece (who I love and adore more than I could ever imagine)…why would I leave all this for something unknown?  Yet despite my unwillingness to leave all this, as cliche as it may sound, I was filled with an incredible peace about VSO and being placed in Rwanda.

And so this brings me to where I am now.  As mentioned in previous posts - exactly WHY I'm here, I'm not entirely sure.  Sometimes I think I'm here to support or exchange whatever skills I have but more recently I feel as though I'm here to receive.  Through the many stories that I've heard, all relating to the events of '94 I am left with an incredible sense of thankfulness for being who I am.  There's not much I can do for these people, some of whom I now call friends but listen and offer them my prayers - last night, I was told that that was enough and my heart broke.

I know I'm not here to change the world but I came wanting to visibly see the change that I would make but last night, I realised that I've already made a difference - even if it is to just a small circle of friends, simply by being a friend.

One step at a time

I've just returned from a working week away from Cyahinda - I actually missed my home!!!  Who'd have thought that I'd be excited to return to my pit-latrine, no running water and quiet village life?  But here I am feeling more at home than ever before.  Maybe the city girl is becoming a village-girl?

I had to travel to Kigali for 2-days of meetings and of course, it was filled with good company (meeting up with fellow VSO volunteers) and GOOD food - I have been craving Indian food for AGES - and I certainly got my fix and more!  So very happy :)

As with every Kigali trip, I also visited the VSO office where I was informed that I will be moving to a new home in December some time.  For a while now, there have been talks of moving me should a more suitable accommodation be found - (problems include: leaking roof = flooded house every time it rains - which is often as it is the rainy season, unpainted rooms, no curtains, electric-sockets in only 2/4 rooms…)  However, I'm feeling somewhat guilty as my house is far better than many people's accommodation in my village (although certainly not in comparison to other volunteers in Rwanda!)  I have visited my neighbours and some do not even have ceilings (there's a roof…)  My TTC colleagues share rooms with each other and do not have the luxury of escaping to a space they can call their own.  I at least have a HOUSE to do that and can make as much or as little noise as I see fit.  I have a 2 bedroom house to myself - and I'm soon to be moving to a 4-bed - with an inside loo!  Having lived with an outdoor pit for the last 2 months, I actually think they're more convenient and dare I say it, sanitary?  After all, it does not matter if there is a water shortage as I do not have to do any flushing…(too much info. perhaps?) - I do not need to spend money on bleach or other toilet accessories as I have no bowl to clean…still, I do get very excited about flushing toilets when I come across them!

So that's my new house…(if negotiations do not fall through)

And I finally took some photos of Cyahinda Centre…

The man on the right with the red coat is my night-watchman.  This photo was taken at around 5am when I was waiting for my bus to Butare.  My watchman carried my rucksack to the centre for me...

This is the road to my house - the building on the right is the main general shop/store.  There's also a mini-bakery/cafe in there too…and that is 'The Centre.'

Still haven't quite configured the settings on my point-and-shoot to capture sunrise - I miss my DSLR!

I've become quite attached to my house and village.  One of my concerns about moving to a bigger home is that VSO might want to place another volunteer in Cyahinda and therefore I will have to house-share.  I know it has its perks but I'm quite used to living alone and much prefer it - but we'll cross that hurdle if/when it comes.   Before I came to Rwanda I was actually expecting to be sharing with another and I got quite used to the idea (Catrin - it can still happen!) But then a couple of weeks before departure, I was told that it was just me - what an emotional roller coaster that week was.  (Although I'm sure it was far more for Catrin!)  

However, according to colleagues who I've discussed this with, they do not want another volunteer because they think I would become less sociable. 

'May is enough here, we do not need anyone else.'  

That was the response I received from one of my colleagues.  It made me feel warm and fuzzy inside - I've become part of the community (or at least the TTC community) and who knows, there may be truth in their thoughts about me becoming more insular should another volunteer come.  In all honesty, I'm not particularly adventurous here and my attempts at learning Kinyarwanda are poor at best but evidently whatever efforts I have made out here have been noted and appreciated.  I might have a job to do as a methodology and resources advisor - but the biggest job for me has been/is to become integrated into society here - to build relationships and develop trust within the community.  It's happening - a few days ago, I was returning home from work, greeting people as I walked through the centre and shaking the hands of the kids that call out, 'Maaaaaayyyyy' through their bamboo fences - as I walked past, I heard one of the adults ask 'yitwa nde?' (what's her name?) to their child, after which I heard the usual - 'Mary? Em-my? Mary?…eee…Mayeee'  How can my name be so difficult to get?  I guess I should be thankful I'm no longer 'muzungu.'

So small steps - progress is being made…

Questions

We are definitely in the ‘rainy season’ here in Rwanda and when it rains here, God doesn’t do things by half – forget ‘black rain’ (if you’re familiar with the rain signals of HK/Japan…black rain is the worst you can get – it’s beyond torrential…)  Inevitably, I will be asked the question, ‘how is the climate here compared to England?’  Or, ‘how do you find the climate here?’  

Weather small-talk, I thought only the British did that!

I did not come prepared for it to be gloriously hot and sunny in the morning only for clouds to suddenly appear and the rain to come pelting down, soaking me to the bone within seconds.  

I NEED WELLIES* AND WATERPROOFS! - A bit of online shopping is required me thinks... 
(*I must check that my spell-check does not change this into something else as it has done before!)

Another more obvious question that I am always asked (and this happened when I lived in Japan too…) – ‘Are you married?’ or other combinations – ‘are you single?’, ‘do you have a boyfriend?’, ‘is your husband in England?’, ‘are you single searching or single waiting?’, ‘is that your child?’ (I have a picture of my niece on my phone and laptop.)  The obsession here with marriage is incredible.  I went to visit another TTC a month or so ago and our ice-breaker introduction consisted of us saying our names, our job-role and whether or not we were married!  No matter where I go, I will never escape this question so it would seem...

My favourite question of all has to be, ‘do you know kung fu?’

(At this point, I am always reminded of the scene in Matrix where Neo looks at his hands and says, ‘I know kung fu.’ – I’m tempted to reenact it at least once when I’m asked it…)

Chinese martial art films are very popular here and the stereotypical assumption that is upon me is:

(a)  I speak mandarin and can teach it

(b)  I know some sort of martial art

(c)   I can make/build anything (as with everywhere else in the world, most things are ‘made in China.’)

I am sorry to say that I do not meet any of the criteria (although I am developing the last as that's essentially my job role!) 

I am somewhat of a mystery here…it throws people that I speak English with a British accent (but I think that happens wherever I go…) and that I’ve actually NEVER been to mainland China despite having lived in HK for three years!  But my mum will be pleased that I maintain some of my Chinese roots as some of my first purchases here were soya-sauce, oyster sauce and chopsticks!  (It is hard to source ginger and sesame oil out here - but am thankful for my sister who sent me the latter!)

Through all these questions, I am constantly asking myself - what am I doing here?  Or more specifically, why did God lead me out here?  Sometimes I think I know why - but most days I'm left a little clueless.  Maybe I'll discover in hindsight, only I wish I knew with certainty now.

Never-ending questions...

Greetings

I've always struggled with greeting people - even back in England - and here it is even more confusing!

Around the time of university was when greetings became complicated - does one peck both cheeks or just one?  Is it followed by a hug or even a handshake?  Or do you simply wave/hug?  The amount of times I've kissed someone's neck because I've gone in for a second peck and the other person has come in for a hug after the first peck…slightly embarrassing!

So here I can't quite cope - kissing/pecking is not common practice (which I'm thankful for) although I have received a few unexpected pecks from women here.

People usually greet each other with a handshake - which in itself can at times be quite complex - with the regular, shake of the hand but then sometimes people go into 'secret' handshake combinations - that's when it throws me.  Afterwards, they seem to draw you in for a hug and then don't quite make contact but take your arm and touch foreheads with you - I've had to be careful not to headbutt anyone…

The other 'hug' greeting is where people approach you with arms wide open, appearing to be ready to embrace you but instead, they take hold of your upper arms, draw you in and 'air kiss'/cheek touch (without kissing) three times and then go in for the forehead touch…head butting is inevitable in this case - who knows which side people are going for?  On the odd occasion, I've been surprised with a  kiss at the end…WHY CAN'T GREETINGS BE SIMPLE?!? 

There is also the fact that sometimes men here try to push the boundaries and I still don't know if it is socially acceptable to hug men - so I tend not to despite being asked several times by various acquaintances, 'why do you not hug me?' - I then go in for the 'side-hug' - oh yes, I'm introducing the side-hug!!!  I think they find it somewhat strange but I just tell them that it is not MY culture to hug.  It kills me because I LOVE hugging - just not people that I don't know (very well)…

Then there is the verbal greetings of 'muraho', 'mwaramutse', 'miriwe', 'bite'…the first is used when you meet someone for the first time, or haven't seen them for a long time; the second is good morning; the third = good afternoon/evening and the last is 'how are you doing?' - My colleagues seem to use 'muraho' on a Monday when I have not seen them over the weekend, followed by, 'I missed you.'  There's an expectation to say it back - but quite often I cannot bring myself to do it.  I simply smile and say, 'murakoze' which translates as 'thank you.'  (I'm tempted sometimes to respond, "that's nice.") 

Someone needs to write a code-of-greetings book for ALL cultures…I have too many to contend with!

WAKE UP!

For those of you who know me, you know I like, nay, I LOVE my sleep - God bless those souls who dare to wake me...

YET! there is no such thing as sleep here...

Wake up calls start around 5am and go on well beyond 8am...

It usually starts with the call/s of the cockerel/s - 'cock-a-doodle-doo'

On Wednesday it was the call of the 'umuganda-announcement man' who at 5am went around the village shouting,

'All ye, all ye, Thursday will be community-work morning, wake now and prepare thyself and make sure that lazy muzungu (me) does not get to sleep - sleep is for the idle and we are not idle people!'

(At least that's what I imagined him saying...) Followed with a kinyarwanda version of - 'I know a song that will get on your nerves, get on your nerves, get on your nerves...'

I have thankfully trained my colleagues NOT to call me in the morning to 'greet me' - which is something that people do here.  They call to simply say, 'I am calling to greet you, good morning.' - and then hang up.  Only one of my colleagues this week thought it'd be funny to do so anyway just to see how I would respond - I was amiable.

But today took the biscuit.

6am - and these guys were outside of my house...(I tried to upload a video but failed...will try again another time - you'll just have to be content with a photo instead.)

Yes, they were awesome (think Japanese Taiko drummers or Chinese Dragon-dancing drummers) - just not at 6AM.  I actually took this photo (and the video) at school at around 7.45 when I had finally got over myself and made my way bleary-eyed to school...

WAKE UP MAY!