Saying goodbye

"We are not depending on ourselves but on our Creator's freedom."

On Sunday I attended the funeral of a colleague's father.  The words above were his in response to my message of condolence.  I wondered where he drew his strength from in being able to respond this way and was surprised that he was able to respond at all.

I expected Sunday to be a sombre day filled with tears and quiet reflection, I couldn't have been any further from the truth.  My journey began at the back of a pick up truck with at least 10 other colleagues, as the wind blew in our faces and the red dust dyed our hair, the vehicle filled with raucous conversations and laughter that filtered through to each village that we passed.  I was unprepared and ill equipped to deal with the conversations that took place - mainly because my Kinyarwanda is still shockingly non-existent despite having been here for FIVE months already!  As we approached our colleague's home-village, (about a 45 minute drive away), the mood changed but it was still not what I had anticipated.

I had expected to be met with tears of sorrow and an air of mourning but instead, I was warmly greeted by all with smiles.  I stupidly asked each person, 'amakuru?' - How are you?  To which I predictably received the standard response of 'Ni meza' - I'm fine/good.  After watching briefly community members digging the grave in the back garden of my colleague's family home, the women were ushered into a small room whilst some of my male colleagues were handed spades and hoes to muck in with the grave construction.

In the room, I was warmly greeted and soon became the centre of attention.  The room, a turquoise-painted mud hut was adorned with many posters of Mary, the mother of Christ.  I found it all a little disconcerting, particularly one image of her standing with arms outstretched, riding on a cloud with a large glowing ring of light surrounding her head and the words 'Holy Mary, light of the world.'  Blasphemous really - but what could I do or say?  As I greeted each woman in the room, (with ages ranging from 20s-60s), the questions and comments for me cascaded.  Whilst I did not recognise any of the women, many of them were from Cyahinda and so have seen me from around often.  Discussions began about my weight - apparently I have gained weight as my cheeks have got bigger.  It must be all the potatoes I'm eating!  Other topics of conversation raised: Is my hair natural or a weave?  It would seem that all the children in the village are enamoured by me and talk about me at home?!?!; and finally whether I would take a Rwandan man to be my husband so I could stay in Rwanda forever.  Again, much laughter was to be heard and had - not exactly what I was expecting from a funeral!

Interestingly, and I'd intended to blog about this for a while was the dress of the women at the funeral.  Some were adorned with traditional material tailored into a figure-hugging dress/outfit but most wore the material as a sarong-type wrap-skirt with a t-shirt on the top.  What I found funny were the t-shirts themselves.  Have you ever wondered where your 'Happy Sack' clothes donations go?  Or those given to your high-street charity shop?  Most of it ends up here in Africa and is SOLD in the markets - I have seen people walking around in McDonald's uniforms, a White Castle t-shirt, a TNT uniform, a Tesco t-shirt and lots of Unicef/USAID/charity t-shirts.  One lady at the funeral wore a Mickey-Mouse t-shirt with her traditional wrap, somewhat odd but no-one (else) batted an eye-lid!  When I asked what I should wear to the funeral, I was told, 'anything you want' - and they weren't half right in saying that!

After the conversations about me petered out, the women then unexpectedly broke out into prayers and songs - I was later told that they were traditional burial chants.  This continued for THREE HOURS - unbroken.  As I surveyed the room, some women fell asleep (there was even one who snored very loudly) and others who just respectfully had their heads bowed (maybe they were asleep too?)  It was difficult for me NOT to fall asleep myself.  After the 3 hours, my colleagues told me to go out for some fresh air and I was informed that the actual ceremony would not take place for another couple of hours as the grave was still not complete.  This is African time - something I've had to get used to, it shouldn't be given as an excuse for tardiness and shouldn't be accepted as one - but it is.  Again I was told, 'inhangane' - be patient, something that I find harder and harder to do and be the more I live here.

When the ceremony eventually began, my colleague's family plot of land was filled with a sea of people - not one tear was shed.  I was saddened by how detached people were but since '94, people are almost numb to the idea of death, it is just perceived to be a part of the life-cycle, nothing to mourn over but a mere inevitability - I was asked, 'why should we fear it or be sad?  It happens to all and life should go on.'  I still don't know if these are wise words or tainted ones.

In my own life, many loved ones have passed away and with each one I am reminded to be grateful for what I have - it was encouraging to see that my colleague was drawing strength from God and rejoicing for the life that his father had and will have with Christ.  My colleague himself has now taken on the role as 'head of the family.'  He smiled throughout his speech and reiterated the words, "We are not depending on ourselves but on our Creator's freedom."  And so these are the words that I leave you with too...

Breaking Dawn

Another year has begun.

The countdown to the new year began with Christmas in Rusizi with fellow VSO-orphans Steph and Lauren. 

Yet contrary to the photo above…Christmas was anything but sad for me.  

For many, Christmas is a time with family, friends, copious amounts of food and drink and spending a small fortune on gifts. 

This was my Christmas:

• Three-way Skype convo with my brother who was holidaying in Osaka, Japan and my sister (and niece Olive) back in London and a telephone convo with my mother - family: tick.
• Taking turns to cook with Steph and Lauren - friends & good food: tick

• Mulled wine with Becks’ Christmas gift (what a treat!) - drink: tick
• Not-so-secret-Santa with Lauren & Steph and LOTS of parcels from around the world - presents: tick

I thought about the journey of those at the first Christmas – Mary & Joseph, the Wise Men/Kings and the shepherds – for days they travelled to await and welcome the birth of Christ.  Through rough terrain and adverse conditions they struggled to meet the newborn King but they were willing and filled with joy at the chance to see the baby in the manger.  Christmas for me was just as joyously anticipated and met.  Waking at the crack of dawn to catch a bus that we were on the waiting list for; taking a grueling 3.5hr bus journey wedged with 4 others on a row of seats designed for 3 people; being surrounded by 4 pukers on a bus that was simply not road-worthy…particularly on some of the pothole ridden roads that we passed but then at the end of our (Lauren and my) tunnel, there was light as we were met by the lovely Steph and 3 days of good food, UNO, cheesy Christmas music and many films proceeded.  My heart was heavy and overwhelmed, not out of sadness but because I felt the blessings of Christ’s love in and through my friends.  This warm and fuzzy feeling only continued through to New Year...

New Year was spent in Gisenyi with 10 other VSO volunteers – it was a beautiful setting filled with much laughter and silliness :)

The tents where we stayed - glamping at its best!  £20/tent - bargainous!

Mini-people that just appeared one day…Rwandan Hobbits minus the hairy feet...

The view...

Breakfast…

New Year's Eve…me rocking the festival look with my new wellies!  Thanks to my sisters for getting them out to me - and even bigger thanks to Michael/Scribbler for bringing them out for me!  (Not sure what Lauren is doing - looking quite arty really!)

VSO-Christmas-orphans reunited

New Year's Eve meal

So, a new year has dawned, what will it hold?  I have not made any resolutions but hope that just as 2013 opened many doors and took me in a new direction, 2014 will find me confident enough to keep pushing doors and taking steps forward.  Umwaka Mwiza!  (Happy (New) Year!)