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.

We just got back from the market - quite an adventure. So far I'd only been to small shops and one "larger" grocery store; maybe a quarter of the size of Trader Joe's. The market is on the other side of town, and as soon as we arrived and everyone saw muzungus, the boys started rushing the car - they want to find you a parking spot and "guard your car" - pretty much unnecessary. They grab onto the car though and run along with you as you slow down. It's pretty intense, and you just have to ignore them. Consolee was with us - there is no way a foreigner can go to the market without a native - if people even bother dealing with you (which they often wouldn't) they will charge you an arm and a leg. So Consolee did all the talking, but Jen and I drove some hard bargains and got everything we needed pretty cheaply. My best buy was a huge bunch of cilantro for 17 cents. I also handled the bargaining of 30 eggs for $3.50, and 3 kilos (6.6 pounds) of potatoes for 89 cents. I think Consolee was surprised by how much Jen and I were determined to get things cheaply.


Though the actual bartering was fun, and the market was great to see, but the whole thing was kind of an annoying headache - it's a constant mob, and we were 2 of 3 white people there, in a place of a couple hundred - we're constantly getting poked, begged from, yelled at, pushed aside. We had Anna as well and she wasn't too much of a happy camper. Jen and I took turns holding her. Also, the Rwandese are always mesmerized by her. Besides the fact that she's totally adorable, a Chinese baby is a pretty rare thing here in Rwanda. People were trying to touch her, hold her, talk to her, etc. She was a little pissed.


They pile everything in pyramids, and there's all different sections - fruit, vegetables, rice, eggs, beans, flour, cornmeal, grain. I wanted to take more pictures but whenever I took the camera out people would kind of rush me - je ne sais pas. These are the "quieter" moments I was able to sneak.


You also hire a boy to carry your groceries for you, so you have your hands free to find, touch, smell, and pay. Consolee knew someone, so we had a 15 year old named Pierre helping us - he was really nice and not in your face unlike many of the kids here. We got a lot of stuff and he was surprised when I offered to help carry the bags. We kind of motioned to each other and I figured out the word for strong (by pointing to my amazing, beautifully defined muscles) - umufungu, if I remember correctly, but I probably don't. Don't take my word for it. I tried to get the word for weak, but he didn't seem to understand my saying "Qu'est-ce que c'est NO umufungu?"

We took a drive outside of the city today - I wasn't sure what to expect but it ended up being pretty great. I didn't bring my video camera (stupid) and we were driving so the pictures didn't come out too great - mostly blurry. There were still a decent amount of people everywhere we went - always walking, walking, walking, and man did we stick out. We drove through several small towns and the entire town just seemed to stop and watch our car go by. It was probably a little strange to see three white adults and two Chinese girls randomly going through the town.


I am just so amazed by how beautiful this country is - I know it looks nice in the photos but it's just phenomenal in real life - the rolling hills, the lush, lush greens and the bright oranges of all the dirt that is everywhere. It's funny cause you hear that Rwanda is the "Land of a Thousand Hills" and you think, ok, how many hills can there be? Let me tell you - this place is the epitome of hilly. I haven't seen an even, flat piece of ground since we left the airport. And even that could use some leveling.



We drove about twenty minutes out of the city, but it felt like hours. The areas were clearly a lot poorer, there were very few cars and stores. All the roads were dirt and quite rugged; our little Carina did very well though. It made me realize I really would love to have a moto, not only do I need my own transportation, but it would so nice to go for rides out to the country, and perhaps do some work out there. The whole jaunt was just over an hour, and I think we all felt refreshed by it. We went out to the Flamingo again, and had a great dinner. Plus, it's two minutes from our house. Nice Sunday afternoon.

Jen and Dano bought a car - a 1993 Toyota Carina (the African version of a Corolla) that is a wonderful eggplant color, complete with tinted windows and an incredibly loud ringtone that plays whenever you put the car in reverse. It's pretty thug.

Last night I made dinner - it went pretty well. I wasn't sure how the oven would do (you never know how these things are going to work out) so I put the chicken in an hour and a half before we wanted to eat. Fortunately, it cooked well. It was the first time I'd had meat since I left the states. It was tasty.

There is so much starch here - rice, couscous, potatoes, bread (well, we buy bread and I eat it - it's not a Rwandan thing though) - I need to regulate myself or that's all I'd be eating. That and bananas. SO MANY BANANAS. There's not too much color in the food here, all in the brown-white scale, lots of taupes, oranges, beiges, burnt siennas, cremes. I would kill for some broccoli. I'm sure there is some here (haven't seen any yet) but it's just that it's so expensive. I paid $14 for 5 leg/thigh pieces yesterday.

The electricity and water take turns going off. If they're ever both on it's like Christmas, and I tiptoe around hoping one of them won't notice the other one is on. This morning the water was off when I woke up, so I started writing an email. I heard it come back on, and jumped into the shower before it could go out again. As soon as I got out (5 minutes later) the electricity was off. I took that as a sign to take a nap. Or more truthfully, I accidentally fell asleep. It came on a few hours later. But now (literally just this second!) Consolee (our all around wonder woman house worker) is making dinner, the food's in the oven, and the electricity just went off. Hopefully it'll go back on in time to finish cooking...and I guess I'll have to save this to post later.

I know it's been a bit since I last wrote - I've been sick and just really not wanting to function. Yesterday and Tuesday were spent entirely at the house, so it was quite uneventful (you didn't miss anything!) (except, of course, some of the craziest thunderstorms).

On Sunday we went to Novotel, the nicer hotel in town that has a swimming pool. It was packed - I didn't do any swimming, but sat out on the grass and enjoyed watching the couple hundred kids frolic around. It would be nice to swim, but I don't think I'll be going on any more Sundays - it was so hectic. Maybe during the middle of the week I can go and do some laps. That was the first day I got sick - by the middle of the afternoon my head was pounding and my throat started closing up - by Monday I was totally sick.

DESPITE THE SICKNESS, I went to Ivuka to see the kids dance. Wow. "What a day." Collin told me to come at 2, cause that's when the kids started rehearsal. I arrived at 2:15, and the kids weren't there yet (the whole Africa time thing is slowly becoming clear). Collin was painting, along with four other guys. I sat and watched them work on their pieces for about 45 minutes - it was fun listening to them. They're all in their 20s, and spoke a mix of Kinya, Swahili, French, and English. Needless to say I didn't really understand, but I felt like I was one of the cool kids, hanging out in the little trendy artists' spot. They were all so greatly talented - I'll try to get some pictures of the guys and what they're working on in the next couple of days.

There were two girls sitting with me, about 8 or 10 years old, and we tried to talk. I would point to something (like my nose) and they would supposedly say it in Kinyarwanda, only I feel like they said 3 or 4 words at once. Something like "and" will be something like "mbuyamkaygi." There are so many syllables in each word, it's very hard to just say and repeat. I don't think I remember anything they told me, but we had a good time, making hand gestures and laughing with each other. Eventually kids started filing in, and they all sort of stared at me, like "why is this random white girl sitting here?"

Actually, Collin said something interesting to me - I mentioned how the kids stare and me, and I said,
"They just stare at me and I know they think I am crazy."
"No," he goes, "that's just what white people think we're thinking. The kids are just interested in you, and they don't have any shame about that." It just kind of made me realize how I quickly turned their staring into some negative toward me. This is a mess of a paragraph. Let's end it.

ANYWAY, as the kids started gathering, a thunderstorm promptly broke out, and we all ran into the two room studio for shelter (please note, at this point there were about 30 kids, 8 guys, and me). It was packed and warm, but it was fine. The kids started singing and playing games, and I had a long conversation with one of the artists - Jean Bosco. It was nice to talk to someone new. As soon as the rain stopped (maybe 40 minutes?) the kids all got out brooms and started sweeping the water into the street drains (I know there's a word for this) and pretty soon everyone was back outside, dancing, singing, joking around, laughing ... still no rehearsal though. I didn't want to say anything - I felt like it would be presumptuous, but I had been there for about 2 hours already, basically just loitering. After a while, when the moment seemed right, I, very nonchalantly, said to Bosco, "So are the kids dancing today?" Of course this had the exact effect I was wishing against, he goes, "Oh, you want to see them?" and starts yelling at all the kids to get together. Great.

They were fantastic. The trainer (a beautiful 17 year old girl) was one of the most graceful, regal dancers I had ever seen. The Inganzo dance is (from what I've perceived) about cows - the way the kids V their arms out over their heads symbolize the horns of the cow. Every move and position has a meaning, Collin would tell me something here and there, but he's always doing thirty things at once. The kids were joking around all day, Collin kept yelling at them to be serious; he said they weren't "good" that day. There was one little boy, maybe 10 years old, who was doing the drumming the whole time- beating on a giant bongo with two thick sticks. Everyone dance for over and hour and he never stopped keeping the rhythm. Also, whoever is not dancing is singing. The girls were graceful and fluid, the boys were much more active and aggressive. Anyway, a video is worth a million words.

When they were done dancing, Collin stands up (with no warning) and starts going off in Kinyarwanda, and then points to me and says "Carolina" and all the kids yell "CAROLINA!!" I start to get nervous, and ask Collin what he said.
"Just that you are here to teach them ballet, and to make you feel welcome" he says. They're all smiling at me, and then Collin goes,
"And now she will do a demonstration," and pushes me to the plateau of the stairs, so that I am on a stage in front of a group of 40 kids and guys. Can you say MORTIFIED? I had no idea what to do. There were so many smiling faces looking up at me, though, and they had just danced their little hearts out (with no shame at all) so I could hardly bear to disappoint. I swallowed my pride and made up a little dance. "Dance" is pushing it - I basically did a nice developpé (running one leg up the other, extending it out) and turned it into an arabesque, a plonche (a deep reach down from arabesque), a turn, and some quick jumps. Man, did they eat it up. They were most impressed with my pointed toes, and mauled me trying to show off their feet and were they pointing them right?

It was great. They were so interested and fascinated, and kept asking me to show them more steps. The trainer came to me, and in very broken English asked me if she could come take classes. It was very humbling, and incredibly encouraging to see such enthusiasm. More to come.

Today was highly successful. As you know, I took a mototaxi to Bourbon Coffee, pretty much a better-than-Starbucks place. I paid a fortune for an excellent smoothie ($7) and sat down to make and upload the moto movie in the previous post.

The cafe was filled mostly with foreigners, but there were some Rwandans. The place was huge and comfortable, again, I'm seeing how you could very easily cut the Africa out of Rwanda. I remember how there were families in Portugal who did that as well - created their little bubble of America in Lisbon (no idea why you would do that) - and I am finding the people here that do that. It's nice to have the cafe, but I can't imagine going there often, especially since we [usually] have internet at the house, the main pull is not there for me.


As I was leaving I asked one of the women working if I was anywhere near where I needed to go. She said no and suggested getting on another bike. "How much do you think I should pay for that?" I asked, knowing it was about the same distance as where I'd just came from. She quoted a price that was a fifth of what I volunteered to the guy - I can guarantee he's sitting at home right now laughing at the retarded muzungu who just handed him a day's worth of pay for a 5 minute ride. Whatever, I really don't mind that I gave him the money, just that I had a moment of naiveté (those of you who know me will understand).

So I got on the motobike and was dropped at Novotel, which I knew was near Ivuka Arts, my friend Collin's studio. After giving him less than a dollar for the 5 minute ride, I was standing in an area I'd never been before, with no idea where to go. I texted Collin who gave me very basic directions - take a right after Novotel, then walk down the second dirt road. That's great, but a right from which direction? I just started walking, away from where I'd come. There was a wedding on the grass by the hotel, I wanted to take a picture but refrained. There were a thousand people on the lawn. Not really, but a lot.

I turned down what seemed like a dirt alley to the right of Novotel. I'm getting into a pure Rwandese neighborhood, no houses, all little shanties and bungalows. Everyone is looking at me like I'm crazy. Some wave and smile, some just ignore you, most just stare. I text Collin again; I had passed a sign. "Am I going the right way?" Yes, he says. Good. I keep walking. It's far. There's a bend in the road and still I don't see anything remotely resembling an art studio, but that doesn't mean much in Kigali because everything is gated and often a house that's been converted. You would not be able to tell the restaurants we've gone to are restaurants from the outside - you need to know exactly where they are. There were two guys standing to the side of the road, so I go up to them and start speaking in French, which they don't understand, apparently. So I just say "Ivuka?" and make brush strokes. They kind of look at each other and then wave their hands further down the road. Though on the right track, I still don't know how far it is.

Fortunately, it was just a bit less than a mile. I instantly recognize the art studio because it's painted brightly, and there was art hanging all over the gate and the brick walls. The place is incredible. When you enter you walk down stairs and into a courtyard - there's a little three room house that he has converted into the studios and his office - piles and piles of canvases everywhere - paintings hung on every inch of wall outside, metal sculptures all over the place. It was so beautiful, and such a rarity. Collin has done an amazing job of creating an artists' haven in the midst of all that is Kigali. There are no other art centers in Rwanda, and he opened Ivuka two and a half years ago. There were four or five guys painting while I was there, then some boys came to hang out. I do have a video of the studio area but it's taking way too long to upload. Maybe I can get it up another time, or when I'm at Bourbon. We'll see. For now, live with this outside view and some cute little boys.

Well, I ventured out of my circle. I got on a mototaxi after having NO IDEA how much the guy was asking me for, so I just volunteered an amount that I was willing to pay and he said yes. I could have paid a million bucks for a two dollar ride - I guess I'll never know. How am I supposed to know? He didn't speak French. I was very nervous, I can't lie to you. Still, brave enough to hang on one handed as I held up a video camera! After about 30 seconds I wasn't nervous anymore, I was loving it. I am so getting a bike; it was glorious.

I'm sitting in the internet cafe now (that was my chosen destination) (really cause it was the only place I knew of) and about to go to Ivuka, the arts center where I'll be working. Time to hop on another moto!

Just got back from the goat roast! It was at the Magruder's house, a family here that works for Living Water, or something like that (Water of Life? A Life Full of Water? Watered Living?) I literally felt like I was at a party in LA - this house was off the hook. It was so beautiful and so lavish and so decorated - no one would believe we were in Africa. They had a back porch with an incredible view, see here:There were a couple Rwandese duders who brought over a goat, skinned it, and cooked it. It was so, so good (definite good bye to vegetarianism). They also roasted these halved potatoes, absolutely nothing on them, but just cooked them to perfection. There were about 25 of us there, it was nice, but everyone is either a couple or a child, so I definitely don't feel completely comfortable. I need to make some single friends. Carter [Crockett] was trying to convince me to go to this dance club that was within walking distance from the Magruder's. Seriously. I'm not going to go jump into a dance club in Kigali where I know no one and have no idea what it's going to be like. I need a partner.

Maybe one of the little kids that hangs outside our gate? The Crockett's and us are the only white people in our neighborhood, so besides everyone staring at you (and these people STARE, like, longer than you would think physically possible) the kids are rushing you and say "Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour!" They're very friendly and always trying to talk to you and shake your hand. It's pretty funny. I might try and get some video soon if I can be brave enough to take my camera out and put it in other people's faces. So far, not yet.

I have found the best peanut butter. We went to Frulep yesterday (a small, moderately-priced grocery store on the hill opposite us that you can see from our backyard) and I got a couple essentials - tuna ($2 a can) rice cakes (only $1.50!), some water, bananas, and PEANUT BUTTER. There were two options - a normal looking, processed one for $4, and a homemade one for a $1.50 that looked kind of sketch. I, of course, grabbed the homemade one. It is so good. On the label it says Ingredients: peanuts, salt. It's so thick and dry, it has the date it was made (23 June 2009) and the date it expires (23 May 2010) and some name of a town in Rwanda where it's made. The best part, however, maybe the excellent, totally functional and reusable tupperware cup and lid it comes in. Plasticware is hard to find in Rwanda and incredibly expensive, so the fact that this peanut butter is so good and so cheap AND comes with a great cup is almost too much to handle. I've been talking about it for two days straight now.

I just got back from my first run. It was hard. It was nearly 90° when I went (the only time I could go today was in the heat of the day - had to watch the girls this morning and we were going to the goat roast! at 5) and I DIED. There was one point where I thought 'My life is so sick, I'm running in AFRICA right now' but that didn't last very long. The sweat and pain did, though. My face was redder than a baboon's bottom. Aside from not being in shape (I'll get there) and dying from heat, it was really beautiful. I ran around this traffic-circle park that is 2 minutes from our house. The Parliament building where Kagame works is around the circle (2 minutes from our house). There were a couple of dudes sitting in the park and some ladies standing around, they stared at me like I was the biggest moron on earth. I am sure it's a bit weird to see a young white girl running around in circles, looking like she's about to die. Hey, I DID IT. THE END.

I just read my last post and it was so boring - I'm sorry. I don't know why I was listing things or tell you guys the time. I'll do my best.

We went out for Chinese food tonight at The Flamingo - a restaurant a few minutes away. It was very good. Our kitchen isn't quite functional yet - the stove does not work and we really haven't gone grocery shopping yet, so last night we ate at Café Italiana - had a nice pizza, and tonight, The Flamingo. Both restaurants were very large with multiple levels and lots of outside/veranda seating - very comfortable. The Flamingo was pretty ornately decorated, and there were mostly Rwandese eating there, as opposed to the pizza place with all muzungus (white people).

We've taken a couple shopping excursions to get some essentials. The city is bustling - that seems to be the best word for it. It doesn't feel like a city, a large town, maybe (a lot like Oeiras, for those of you who are familiar with), but there are always tons of people walking walking walking, and cars in every direction, squeezing into every corner. I definitely expect Jason Bourne to run by me at some point, but no such luck yet. Maybe tomorrow?

Everything is pretty expensive - I wanted to get a little lamp for my room, but they started at about $50 (except for one they had for $12 which was broken). Also, I wanted to buy a trash can - the tiny plastic one was $17, whereas the beautiful, hand woven banana leaf one is $3.50. There is a lot of random stuff to buy here. I especially liked this dead warrior baby mobile I found at a craftsman shop. Apparently Kampala is the place to shop - it's a 9 hour bus ride for $15. I met a girl, Keza, today, and she said she goes to Kampala regularly to meet with friends and buy all her clothes. She also mentioned that she runs around the park-like traffic circle just down the road from our house, which I had been hoping would be possible to do. I am going to go in the morning, maybe I'll take my video camera.

I forgot what it was like not to be able to communicate with people immediately - it's trying. My french is not so great, and Kinyarwanda seems very difficult to me (and the Rwandese I've met has said that it is, with a kind of laugh). Jen and I were trying to ask the gardener when the papayas would be ripe, and that was next to impossible. I said "Il y a papaya manger aujourd'hui?" (are there papayas to eat today?) and got back "I don't work on Sundays" ... and I thought my sentence was pretty solid.

Well, it's definitely true. Once I arrived, I had a million things I could talk about. The flights were long, and quite agonizing. The girls did pretty well, but I was pretty much a total basketcase and dead to the world. It was a lot harder to leave than I expected.

We arrived into Kigali, walked down the stairs and out of the plane, across the runway, and into the building. There were a ton of people there but for some reason (babies) they singled us out, pushed us to the front of the line, stamped our passports, and thrust us out of customs. The whole thing was about 5 minutes from exiting the plane. Gracias a dios. The retrieval of 22 Jukanovich bags was not as fun ... but completed none the less. The second we walked outside I was so happy because the weather was perfect - a perfect, beautiful summer night. It felt so good after being in airports and planes for 20 hours. I was also happy because my texting capabilities were working, ha.

We drove to the Crockett's house and had some cheese, a quick shower, then I pretended I would be able to fall asleep. I slept from about 10:30-1am, and then laid there until I got up at 6:30. You would not believe the birds in the morning. Full on tropical array of bird noises - started about 4:30. They were so flippin' loud. I wanted to shoot them.

We crossed the street about 9am and entered our own house. It's very, very nice, and large! I have my own 'wing' as I call it - a decent sized bedroom with a big closet, and a big bathroom with a normal shower and toilet and sinkage. The back of the house (which is much bigger than the front) has a huge, beautiful patio that looks over the backyard, which looks over the city.

Speaking of the city, what you hear is true - this place is so hilly. Everywhere. There's no flatness. Anywhere. It's crazy. The driving is pretty intense too - I assumed being a seasoned Manhattan driver I could take any city, but it's not so much that it's hectic here, it's that it's kind of a free for all. I'm not scared and I'd definitely do it, but the thing is I don't know about a motobike - I haven't seen a single woman on a motobike - pretty sure that's just the way it is - and I definitely think a white woman on a motobike would be a bit of a spectacle. We'll see. I still really really want one and this is not the type of city you can just walk around.

The hills are covered with houses and buildings and stretch as far as the eye can see. We're going to go eat dinner, I'll write more later.