On Friday, Jennifer had our housekeeper Consolee bring over 4 of her 5 children - Barrique, Parfait, Nice, and Magnafique to make Christmas cookies with us. Jen did a little demonstration in the beginning, and the kids quickly mastered the art of cookie cutter-ing and decorating. It was fun for everyone. There are no pictures of finished cookies because I am not sure if any of them made it past the icing stage. Every two seconds Anna would break a cookie and say "Mom, can I eat it?" Zechariah (our guard) also came in and did some decorating.

Cleanliness is a big issue with me, particularly with the feel of clothes. Consolee normally does all the laundry, but because we don't have a machine and everything is hand washed, and because there is a lot, it often takes a week to get it back. Also, because there is so much and it rains all the time, it takes several days to dry and will often smell musty.

I complain if I have to hand wash a delicate sweater. But I woke up and thought "be the change you wish to see in the world," so I decided to do my laundry myself. I have never hand washed my entire wardrobe before - oh boy.


Since hot water does not run naturally, I had to boil water in our electrical teapot, so basically half a gallon at a time, to fill the first bucket, which I put soap in. The second bucket I filled with cold water for rinsing. It took me about six or seven "loads" to do all my clothes, and four and a half hours (of labor). Do you have any idea how heavy a bath towel is when it's wet? Did you know those things are made to absorb water? I could barely left it out of the bucket, and wringing the water out was a ten minute process. Whenever you think you've gotten all the water out of a towel, try again - you haven't.

Times flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana. (Groucho Marx.) It definitely feels like I just posted, but the site seems to be telling me that my last post was 20 days ago. Interesting. In these 20 days, my ballet school has exploded. I now have 53 students, and on Monday 17 girls showed up to one class (my max is 8 - spacing wise and sanity wise). It was mayhem. Still, everyone enjoyed it and the parents were thrilled. Classes are all going tremendously well and I am loving every minute of it - it has been really great to discover that I not only love teaching ballet, but that I am actually pretty good at it. I always know what to say next...that's an amazing feeling!


I have felt that I am not working with the street kids enough, but it's been hard to discern exactly how I would go about meeting them, talking to them, getting them to the studio, and teaching them. Please keep in mind that I do not speak a word of Kinyarwanda besides good morning, thank you, good afternoon, how are you, the response to how are you which I don't even know what it means, the word dance, and the numbers 1, 5, 6, and 8. Like, I am not lying to you, that is literally all I know (yes, I do not know how to say 2, 3, 4, 7, 9, or 10). The kids also don't speak a word of English.

So! Yesterday I decided to ask the neighborhood street kids (the ones who frequently come and play at our house and feed the bunnies) if they would like to come to the studio with me. Rather, Jennifer did the talking and said "you go to school of Carolina?" and I then promptly chime in with my great addition to the conversation and say assertively "kubyina!" (dance). We didn't have to ask, the boys will do anything we ask them. They all got very excited and said they wanted to wash up first. This is very respectful of them. They came back a bit later and Jen drove Danyire, Jiye, Christiane, Qwizera, Jacques and I to the studio.


I wanted to keep it a small group, and these are all the boys I have established relationships with already. Well, it was incredibly difficult to communicate and I think they were a bit mystified by the whole thing (especially since I started them off by watching Alvin Ailey's Sinner Man) but this is what we came up with after an hour.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wQA5jD_4na0

(Sorry that it's an outside link, it's 18MB which takes over an hour to upload so I went with youtube so I could share it everywhere.) Hopefully next week will be more solid.

Otherwise, it's Christmastime, and here is our glorious tree that reminds me of very happy days in Portugal.



The new "bar" that went up a few houses down from ours. Yes, that is a shipping container. No, muzungus are not invited.



And here is a nice one of my friend Emmy (dreads) running into a friend while we walked to the main road to look for motos at dusk.


I am going to post on Thursdays and Sundays from now on. I know I haven't been keeping you up to date and I am sorry for this. No longer!

8 December, 2009
I am thoroughly exhausted, my body is fatigued in a way it hasn't been in a while, if ever. Today, for our day trip, we went to Ruhengeri, which is the third largest city in Rwanda and in the northern tip of the country - 30 minutes from both Uganda and Congo. We left at 6:45am and it took us about 2.5 hours to get there - maybe a bit more with the stops.

In the north you have the 3 major volcanoes of Rwanda - Muhabura, Karisimbi, and Volcano #3. There are a couple other small ones, but these are the big ones. You also have all the gorillas, and a huge lake in the province of Muhanze, where many postcards are shot.

The plan was to visit a cave and a lake. Guiding us on this tour was William, who can safely be described as The Coolest Person in Africa, and a strong contender as The Coolest Person in Any Continent. He is Rwandese, and was in the RPF starting in '91 when he was 18. He helped free the imprisoned RPF soldiers in 1991 and retreat back to Uganda to retrain the army. He took Kigali along with Kagame in June of 1994 to end the genocide. He marched to Kinshasa in 1997, and fought in Darfur. Now that he is done with the army, he takes people on treks through the mountains of East Africa, figuring out what they want to see and making it possible. He knows everything about the land and is like the ultimate McGyver. Obviously, he is Dano's hero.

The drive was completely stunning and after about an hour and a half we could see the volcanoes. It were so high up that we looked down on other mountain tops and clouds. I tried to get a picture of it but we were speeding by and nothing came out. There were several waterfalls along the way. The size of the volcanoes and the ethereality of the clouds was just phenomenal.


We dropped off the weaker ones at a hotel to walk around while we continued our journey to The Cave. I was pretty nervous about going because I heard it was a long, arduous trek in pitch blackness, and that there were thousands of bats that would fly around you. We all brought flashlights. We drove 10 minutes outside of town and then pulled over into a field. William pointed straight ahead and there was The Mouth of The Cave. There is no way to describe it except that there was a giant black hole in the hill. I began to get more nervous. I, of course, took the lead. (Behind William.)


The Cave was one of the most incredible things I have ever done, if not the most. The ground was slimy and rocky, a million times worse than climbing in anything I've ever climbed before. The darkness was something I wish I could describe - it was eternal. I could hold my hand in front of my face and I would not see it. I could hold a white piece of paper in front of my face and not see it. A couple of us were wearing white and you could not see them. Our flashlights were insignificant, at best. I have never, ever imagined darkness could be like that. It was so incredibly cool. As we climbed down deeper into the cave, I began to hear a slight hissing. "The bats!" I yelled, and William said yes, you could hear them. It sounded like a lot. A few of
the weaker wanted to turn back. We forged ahead.

The hissing got louder and louder, and soon you could pick out bat eyes hanging from the ceiling. Then you noticed there were bats flying everywhere, and more than you could ever imagine. They weren't in your face like I expected them to be, but I was grateful for that. We stood there, turned off our lights, and listened to the bats.

300 years ago, warriors would walk into The Cave and stay there for two weeks without any food - it was a rite of passage to prove themselves to King Mutara. It was a spiritual journey. In 1994, many Rwandese ran into The Cave to hide from the Interhawme. The genocidaires followed them in, and slaughtered all of them, then threw grenades in to finish the job. There was a "left turn" that would have led us down a 6 kilometer wing of The Cave, but the government closed it off because of all the bodies, and it is now a sort of sacred burial ground.

My camera died while in the cave, but I managed to get one of the ceiling and the bats (kind of hard to distinguish) and a very bad one of Oliver and I. The pictures almost ruin in though, because you can't tell the magnificence of the caverns and the flash is so deceiving - the blackness was not a color, it was a void. Insane.


The Cave was shorter than I hoped, because about two minutes in I was more into it than anyone. In only took us about 25-30 minutes to walk through the whole thing - we came up on the other side of a hill and walked back to the cars. I, of course, was the first man out. I win.

We then picked up the others and drove to the lake - a huge, huge lake I do not know the name of. There were many islands in the lake, and the volcanoes kind of surround it. We sat there for a while and relaxed. We skipped stones in the water. I was all about canoeing out, and got everyone excited about it, and William commandeered us a boat. He and I picked it up a bit down from where we were picnicking, so we oared it over to the people, and picked everyone up. Everyone piled in.


We oared for a while. I was starting to get tired, and really hot. We kept going, out, and out and out. My arms felt like they were going to fall off. The water looked so, so good. Kerry said she had an extra pair of pants. I flung off my flipflops, tore off my sweater, and jumped into the lake. Fully clothed. Everyone looked at me as I bobbed there and Jen said "I can't believe you just did that," and then about 5 other people jumped in.

It was glorious. Until I felt the current which was pulling me out into the middle, and I began to (attempt) to swim to shore. Perhaps swimming a half mile in a strongly currented lake after already hiking through The Cave was not a good idea. It must not have been, because I felt like I was going to die. My chest was burning and I couldn't breathe - Dano reminded me of the altitude and asked if I wanted to get back in the boat. Clearly he doesn't know me very well. I did not succumb to the pain, and pushed on, in a very slow combination of back stroke/crawl/side stroke - basically, whatever felt good for a few seconds. I think something may be wrong with me.


Either way, we all made it shore, and we were all also in a lot of pain from our ears - they were popping like there's no tomorrow, worse than any plane I've been on. So I sat there, sopping wet, feeling like I was about to have a heart attack and my ears were going to explode for about 10 minutes. Definitely the low point of the day. But it was all completely worth it.

28 November, 2009

Jen, Dano and I went to the Kigali City Memorial today - it's the biggest and "best" one - very much a nice, modern museum. (No fee!) It was, of course, prohibited to take pictures inside, but I couldn't resist sneaking a few on my phone. I took them after I had seen the whole thing and walked back to take them, so I didn't get as many as I wanted, and I didn't take any of the more gruesome scenes, or any of the room they had filled with bones. I didn't cry at all but felt pretty numb throughout the whole thing. All of the text was written pretty dramatically, but I thought it was a very well done exhibition. They had pictures and history, then a video in every section with interviews with about 6 survivors. Those were pretty intense. One guy whose wife and children were murdered said he could forgive them if he saw the murderers today, while one of the women who watched her sisters get killed said she could never forgive, that only God could, and she was only human. She said "I am not some sort of air." I liked that.

There was a whole section on how no one helped, how the Interhawme killed the five Belgian peacekeepers cause they knew all the whites would withdraw then. The UN sent 5,000 soldiers to evacuate all the foreigners, it was said that that would have been more than enough soldiers to stop the violence. Also, as you know, the whole Hutu/Tutsi thing was something determined by the Belgians in 1932 - if you had more than ten cows you were Tutsi, if you had less than ten you were Hutu.

(I am not really writing in any continuity - just what I think of.)

They had a nasty video of footage of piles of bodies and people's freshly killed bodies or rotting bodies. There was also some of survivors with massive open wounds in their head or somewhere in their body, and then some actual footage of someone being hacked and killed from a distance. It was disgusting. They had a whole case of machetes and clubs with blood on them, they had a room with blood spattered clothing, and as I said, a whole room with bones and skulls. It was all very exhibition and museum like, though, like, nice glass cases and well laid out. Out in the country there are some memorials (and the church at Natarama) where they left the bodies in the place they fell when they were killed, so everything is just laying there, and there's bloodstains on the walls and ground. Don't know if I could manage that. They also had a big picture of Natarama where the pastor accepted 2,000 refugees, then ordered the church to be bulldozed and killed everyone.


There was a room with eight little nooks where people could hang photos of their lost families members (lost as in dead, not missing). This was really sad. The pictures were so normal and personal. 80s and 90s fashion, kids at birthday parties, school photos, family photos, holiday photos, whatever they had - and there were so many. It was impossible to look at every one.


As if that all wasn't enough, they had another exhibition where they highlighted other genocides. (The museum is also a genocide research center, lots of graduate students doing work there.) That was pretty hard - it's like, if everything wasn't enough, let's show you how this has happened all over the million a few times over. So they profiled the Khmer Rouge, Bosnia, the Holocaust, Armenia, the Hereros, and I think that's it. The Cambodian one was so gross - it was mainly about all the torture that happened. 2 million people died from 1975-1979, a quarter of the population of Cambodia. Pol Pot died in his sleep in 1998.


The last part before you were led outside into extensive gardens was dedicated to children. They had big photos of 14 kids (I took photos of every pair - all included) and plaques in front with their names, their hobbies, their favourite foods, their age when they were killed, and how they were killed ('machete to head' 'raped and beaten' 'bludgeoned to death' 'drowned'). Then they had another wall again where families had posted photos of children who had died. There was a plaque with the words "Children, you could have been our national heroes." That's true. We don't know what these kids could have been - they would all be my age now. The entire children part was painted yellow and close to the gardens, with light coming in from outside. The entire rest of the museum was dimly lit and the walls were a steel blue.


Outside there were a lot of gardens (wouldn't be Rwanda if it wasn't completely lush), and then some huge slabs of concrete that were mass graves - 1820 were buried in these 8 or 10 pits. That's the last photo I included.

This is quite long. I am starting to feel more negative as I wrote this. Hope you wanted to know.

It seems as though Rwanda gets ready for Christmas sooner than the states! (Though I am sure the Christmal Carol radio channel has been going strong since October.) I went to Nakumatt yesterday (the "Wal-mart" of Kigali) and there were trees (fake) everywhere, in addition to a large mechanical Santa Claus at the door. I assume since they don't have Thanksgiving to look forward to, it's full steam ahead to Christmas. I've never had a fake tree in my life and I am not about to start.

The past two weeks have been completely different than the first month here. I've been actually working, and teaching! The studio got set up beautifully (I can say that now in retrospect, during the process it was a horrendous headache) with the walls and floors freshly painted, the barre installed, and the curtains hung (after trying a million different ways to McGyver some curtain rods, one idea worked - too long to explain). I made it through explaining a ballet barre, getting the metal brackets designed and made, choosing a nice beige in a world of beige for curtain fabric, having my carpenter profess is undying love for me and graciously turning him down after he brought me lunch two days in a row, a curtain being stolen, a barre bracket falling out of the wall, and everyone who passes by the studio walking in and offering me their services.

We started classes on Monday, the 9th, and I've taught 15 classes since then. I already have 36 students, most of whom are Rwandan (about 22). My body is completely beat after Mondays, when I have four classes, and I am not just standing there and directing, but pretty much dancing with the girls the entire time cause they (generally) have no idea what they are doing.


I was joking with Jen and Dano the other day about how "I work in physical fitness." We had a good laugh. Anyway, there are four more weeks before the winter break, and it's been a good "soft opening" before the full spring term (January-June). I haven't really done any advertising yet, so I hope to get 80 students if I really put some work into it. Here is my Wednesday class of 5 to 7 year olds looking pretty cute. This photo did not come easily!

Getting around Kigali is both easy and difficult. It's a small, fairly well laid out city. Each neighborhood has a main roundabout, and those are well kept gardens and in some cases (like ours in Kimihurura) a substantial park that you can exercise in, run around, lay in - whatever. Most weddings take place in the roundabouts as well. If it's a Saturday or Sunday the one in Kacyiru is packed with people - wedding parties, and everyone the bride and groom know. Weddings are a big deal here, and quote elaborate.

There are several neighborhoods - Kimihurura - nicer, residential area (where we live), Kacyiru - kind of sprawls, eats all the other neighborhoods - not in one concentrated spot; if you don't know where you are I'd go with Kacyiru, Kiyovu - 'town,' and where the president lives (and where my studio is!), Nyarutarama - upper class, Remera - soccer stadium, busy, Kimironko - also very busy, with the big market (or maybe that's just the name of the market and not actually a neighborhood?), and Nyabugogo - bus stations, craziness.

There is always traffic because there are a lot of cars and not enough roads. This is another benefit of taking motos everywhere - they zip in, out, and around everything. I hardly ever sit in traffic. I can get nearly anywhere for 75 cents, only maybe if I am going from town to the market this would cost me more like $1.20. The upper class Rwandans mostly have big cars (Mercedes, BMWs, Lexi, Jeeps or Range Rovers), the middle class have older cars - usually RAV4s, Toyotas, Golfs - and those who cannot afford a car take motos everywhere. Then there is the rest of the population that walks. This is most of the population. I either walk or take motos - of it's raining, I am stuck waiting until it stops.

There are very few street names for the roads here, and even fewer street signs. Even if you do know the street name, people will probably not know where it is. (For instance, the main, MAIN drag that my studio is on is the Boulevard de l'UA (had to ask around quite a bit to find out) but whenever I say it no one has any idea where I am talking about.)

Once you get off the main roads, everything is dirt and in poor condition. The rain constantly eroding the dirt roads probably has something to do with it. For umuganda last week (the last Saturday of every month everyone is expected to devote the morning hours to cleaning the city) Dano and Carter tried to fill some of the potholes in our street. It was great ... for about an afternoon.

I am really going off topic quite a bit. Here is a street sign in Kimihurura. Please note the street name - Rue 1. Umudugudu means street and Amajyambere is the name of the village in Kimihurura.

I've seen about 4 of these since I have been here. It's very hard to get or give directions unless it's to a main, known location, or someplace with a business/landmark nearby, because most people know those. If you live at our house, which is next to nothing, it can be difficult.

A couple of observations:

No one eats on the street here, or while they are walking. I am constantly eating while doing both.

Coca-cola is god. It's cheaper than water, and served and expected everywhere. I don't drink soda at all. The man who built my studio furniture bought me one and sat with me until I finished it. It was hard.


If someone says they'll call you in thirty minutes, most likely they will call you tomorrow afternoon.

The electricity has been off for three days - Dano has called the company every three hours, and every time he calls "the man is on his way now!"

Moto driver dudes will sometimes stop to run their errands or say hi to a friend on the way to your destination.

The rain rules this country. I can't go anywhere right now (mostly cause I don't have a car) but because the dirt streets are now rivers of mud, the motos stop running, and I don't have rubber boots or an umbrella. This holds true for 90% of the population.

There is one (1) kind of cheese. You're screwed if you don't like it. Not only do I love cheese, but I do not like el queso de Rwanda.

It cost me $40 to get the studio painted, including supplies, but it costs me $14 for a pound of chicken, and $25 for a liter of ice cream (which I didn't buy). Cigarettes are 78 cents a pack.

The cheapest car I've seen is for $6,000. It is 1993 Toyota Carina (African Corolla).

Rwandese love talking about how beautiful their country is, and how boring it is.

Anyone under 20 loves Ne-Yo. Early Britney Spears is quite popular on the radios. Also, Maywood - a ridiculous Dutch band from the 70s and 80s I had to google. (Whenever I google here, it brings me to www.google.rw - cool.)

I sent postcards to some friends 4 weeks ago - still haven't arrived.

My mom sent me a package 4 weeks ago - still hasn't arrived.

My feet are permanently dirty here. Even though I wear shoes everywhere except the house, the dust and dirt permeates everything and has forever attached itself to the soles of my feet.

If I don't sleep with my mosquito net, I'll have at least three bites in the morning - cool to know it works.

It costs $94 to Fedex a letter to America. Not sure why I know this.

The Penguin Classics can be found at Nakumatt, the African Walmart.

We carved pumpkins today.


Rwandese laugh if you tell them you're trying to learn Kinyarwanda.

Samosas are the local snack - they can be bought anywhere for about 20 cents each. Savior, though greasy.

Rwanda and Uganda fight over where the source of the Nile actually is - Rwanda took a big step and the biggest bottled water company in the country is called 'Sourc du Nil.' I'm pretty sure it's in Uganda.

I haven't seen a single tattoo. Or nose ring. Everyone thinks I am Indian because of my dark hair and nose ring.

Once, I was standing around with my carpenter man in the furniture co-op, and there was a woman nearby eating lunch. He said to me "She says you are very beautiful. She wants to know if you are my girlfriend." The woman had never once opened her mouth.

I found this calendar in an office - please note, Obama's wife Mitchelle and their daughters Maria and Tasha.


Plastic bags are illegal in Rwanda - haven't seen one since I left America. Great idea for a clean environment, but it kills me to see all the paper bags - more than you could ever imagine. I guess I was always on the side of the trees.

Also haven't seen a television since I left.

GO YANKEES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It takes me 4.5 hours to download an episode of Grey's Anatomy, which I do weekly.

Ya'll changed your clocks this morning, but Rwanda skips out on that little gem of life.

The rain stopped, so I am done here. Now to find some electricity and a signal to get online.

Anna and I brought the chalk out to the street this morning to play with the neighborhood kids. Normally there's three, four, five kids that play with us. Today they seemed to show up in packs. We had a great time coloring and eventually it turned into a mini dance party. I showed Danyire, one of the boys who comes over and plays with the bunnies, how to use my camera, and he took some good pictures.

Yesterday (Sunday) we took our day trip to Lake Amazi. It was supposed to be an hour outside of Kigali, and supposedly had a nice restaurant/bar/monkeys in cages. The Crockett's and Urquhart's (business partners) were coming as well. We left the city and once we passed the flower farm (about 20 minutes outside) we were officially into the unknown. Fortunately, the road was paved and the scenery was, of course, beautiful. The hills were all terraced with farms. There were cows everywhere and a ton of different birds. I know I haven't mentioned it, but Rwanda is actually quite a spot for bird watching - not something I am into, but there's a couple die hards in our group, so many "exotic" birds were pointed out along way. These are probably the same birds that start chirping outside my window at 4am with the most ridiculous, non-bird-like sounds (the ones I would like to use a shotgun on).

After driving an hour and a half, someone realized we had no idea where we were going. We pulled over in a village, and Carter Crockett went to ask for directions. Needless to say, the second he was out of the car he was surrounded by about 40 Rwandese. Communication was poor at best, but eventually one guy told him he would "finish his lunch and take us there." He then proceeded to get into the Crockett's car, and led us back about 20 minutes the way we came. He then got out of the car and pointed down a long dirt road. Apparently, the lake was that way. At this point we were all pretty expectant (i.e. cranky).

It had just rained, so the road were incredibly muddy, and we went slipping and sliding through the mud. We also had the spare tire on the car because the original had gone flat earlier in the week, so there was quite a level of anxiety in the car. About another half hour ("it's very, very close" the guy told us - of course, something is close if it only takes you a day to walk to) and we spotted a swamp. The anxiety continued to rise as we hoped the lake was not a swamp. Fortunately, our two hour trek paid off, and pretty soon we saw this.

We found a "Resort/Camping Ground" and promptly pulled over... calling it a resort is definitely pushing it. It had a little covered picnic area, a bathroom, and Primus for sale (the local beer). There were some kids in the lake, bailing water out of a boat. Dano paid them 50 cents to row him across the river and back. I wanted to go too but thought it would be too much weight for this way-too-shoddy wooden boat that already had six inches of water in it.

We decided to go further down the lake, hoping there would be a bigger resort. Sadly, the Urquhart's battery had died. Someone ran back to the bar and asked the guys for spark plugs. Rather, everyone tried to say spark plus in Kinyarwanda, French, English, hand motions, pictures ... they didn't seem to get it. Finally they disappear and come back with a piece of covered wire and a knife. They then cut off some of the plastic and unraveled the three wires. Needless to say everyone (in our group) was a little fearful of the sketch, live, naked wire. One guy wound the wire around the little bolt in the cars that you attach spark plugs to, and motioned to start the car. The guys were very scared to do so - it was pretty funny. I think Greg thought he was going to die for sure. Carter very slowly and as if not wanting to commit, started his car. Nothing happened. Greg took his turn then, and nothing happened. At least everyone was alive. We waited about ten minutes for it to charge, tried again, and it worked. A dance of joy followed.

Soon enough we came to a much bigger restaurant, and enjoyed sitting on a dock bar and eating french fries. It was worth it in the end, I think. The ride home was just short of an hour, and we went to Flamingo for dinner, which seems to be our family spot on Sundays. The girls love telling everyone that they are Chinese, and did we know we are eating in a Chinese restaurant?

I am a slacker - it's definitely true sometimes. I apologize for not writing in the past ten days - rest assured I was busy and productive! I also haven't been sleeping well and have been a little cranky and weak feeling. Hopefully it's just a bad week and it'll be over.

Last week we went to a flower farm a half hour outside of the city. The farm is one of Dano+partners' clients, and since they had been there before they asked "the women" if we would like to join them. The drive out was great - once again, great to get outside of the city, and the farm was beautiful. There were twelve large greenhouses filled with roses - the farm's specialty. There were tons of plants, shrubbery, trees, rare-ish green things I hadn't seen before ... the farm is also attempting to start an organic fruits/veggies co-op, so we all bought some organic lettuce, carrots, and green peppers. The owner of the gave us all a bouquet of roses - mine were a tremendous orange - they were alive and beautiful for a few days and now they're dead and beautiful forever. (I hung them up and they're drying.) Anna and I had quite a good time running through the rows of plants and having a photo shoot while the adults talked.



The weekend was pretty slow - I did make brownies though, and they came out quite well. Jen and Dano loved them so much they actually never told their kids I made them (I made them one night after they were in bed) and the three of us polished them all off in a few days. I found this pretty amusing. Thanks to mom who insisted on putting the baking chocolate in my suitcase - it's gone now! Also, clearly Dano is thankful; he licked the pot clean.

The bunnies also arrived last week - J+D got two for the girls. Anna named hers "Joy" and Lian's is "Sunglasses," but referred to as "Sunny" for time saving purposes. They're very cute and the girls love them - we bring them up on the porch and chase them around, constantly cleaning up rabbit poop. They've quickly become neighborhood pets, and the boys on our street will frequently knock on our gate, arms full of random greenery to feed them, or just an excuse to come play with them. We also will bring a soccer ball, or chalk, or games out and play with the rotating group of kids who hang out outside our house. Communication is null at best, but they don't refer to us as muzungu much anymore, so progress is evident.


The best thing that has happened in this week, however, is that I have very quickly and quite shockingly found and signed a contract for a studio. I had trouble finding space to hold classes in, and after a lot of talking and some encouraging words from various people decided to lease my own place. I found a larger office space in a fantastic location - on a main road, with parking, and not too ridiculously priced (unlike most real estate in Kigali). I decided to risk it, and put my every dollar (or Rwandan franc) into the first month's payment. I put out ads, spread the word, and pushed myself over the ledge - classes will be start November 9th. I got two kids signed up in the first few hours of the ad being out (yesterday), and am feeling encouraged by the response I've been getting.



It's crazy for me to think that I essentially own my own fully functional dance studio. It was something I always dreamed of being able to do, but hardly expected to, especially at 22 (then again, I never expected it to be in Rwanda!) I made a full schedule of 12 classes a week, and actually will be taking on a pilates instructor, and am trying to get in touch with a "great hip-hop teacher" I have been told about. This gives me an opportunity to offer more classes to adults and hopefully have a little help with covering the rent. There really is very little to do in Kigali, extracurricular-wise. Every day I meet someone new who says "YOU'RE Ballet Rwanda?! When do classes start?!!" It feels great, while simultaneously makes me want to run for the hills (a total possibility in Rwanda).

I got a builder in the studio a few days ago and we designed the barre, a cubby/bench apparatus, and a small desk. Those will be done next week, and I hope to have painted it fresh before they're ready. All of my buddies at Ivuka Arts have offered to come and help clean and paint. They're all convinced they're going to be ballerinas (20-30 year old men). Last night Collin had a reception for a new show (my first social event since being here!) and the place was packed. The kids did a performance - it was phenomenal. When they saw me they all shouted my name and started prancing around. Also, there were at least 15 people who knew me whom I did not know - again, more "You're the dance teacher?! When are you going to teach me?!" I felt like a Kigalese celebrity for two hours - it was great. Here's the sky today, which looked ten thousand times more amazing in real life.