I was warned before coming to Africa that when people move to a land much different from their own, they typically go through stages of adjustment, the first being the honeymoon. They told me for the first couple of months I might think that the biggest inconveniences were each an exciting adventure. And so I came to Rwanda with this understanding, hoping to be amazed by the uniqueness of the third world...but as it turns out, I think I see things much as they are. Mosquito nets, for example, are a necessary evil in the fight against extra-pesky-potentially-disease-ridden mosquitoes that are sharing their air with me. I haven't seen many, actually, and more often the net annoys me more than the bugs. Waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom brings a new challenge--not as you might expect with strange toilets or no running water, but in figuring out how to escape from my bed.
My new friend and coworker suggested today that we pray to continue to have a sense of humor throughout this whole year. She said so because we'd just gotten out of a mutatu (a mini-bus, the most common mode of public transportation here), and as usual had been squished and squeezed and stared at and had looked death in the face as we wove in and around the other cars and motorcycles on the road. My Mutatu man also wanted to charge me the muzungu (white person) fee today, but thankfully he also still has a sense of humor, and we both laughed while he dug out the appropriate change (you know, that extra nickle is a big deal...it's the principal of the thing!).
And perhaps you'd like to hear a bit about the squatty potty? Well I'll spare the specifics, but imagine with me if you will a small mud hut with a corrugated metal door. Inside there is a mud floor to match, with a hole directly in the middle. One side of the floor looks a little damp...ok outright wet, and then on each side of the hole a slightly higher pile of dirt (I can only assume that these are intended for one's feet?) and the other side of the floor is dry. Oh, and just for dramatic effect you can also perhaps imagine 50 little children and 20 or so adults waiting just up the hill, keenly aware of who is using their toilet...and how long it is taking said person to figure out how exactly to maneuver (him or) herself in the previously described mud hut... Enough said?
Despite my lack of honeymooning, I am grateful to be in this beautiful land. It is not my land, it does not function as my land does, and its people are different from my own. But it is a good land. And I am privileged to be able to learn about it and both enjoy and endure each quirk and blessing.
