Tuesday, June 23, 2009

reflections on the day

June 11, 2009

Sometimes life is taking a deep breath and plunging in. That’s how I felt this morning once more as the mothers gathered together so I could start teaching them. I began my lesson on nutrition by introducing myself, then I started reading from my translation, trying to pronounce the words, hoping they understood it. Fortunately, a coworker was there, to repeat anything they did not understand and to expand on the subject.

If someone had told me a year ago I would be teaching a community about nutrition, HIV and family planning, holding English classes and conducting community assessments and interviews, I would have been intimidated and perhaps wondering how I would become qualified to do all this. Even now, when I think about what I do every week and what I will possibly be doing the next two years, I become a little terrified and I have to shut my mind and concentrate on what I am doing that day. Or sometimes, I have to just stop worrying and just do it. Because the alternative, that of not even trying, is many times worse than trying to do something and failing spectacularly. For example, the first time I taught a group of mothers, they did not understand a word I said. And I was speaking their language (or at least, some version of it)! In short, the lesson did not go well. As time went by, however, and as I taught more lessons, I started speaking more slowly, pronouncing the words more clearly, and remembering them. Now, when I teach a lesson in which I’m familiar, people can understand me and I can speak freely in Kinyarwanda for a few minutes without having to read my notes. And you can’t imagine how good of a feeling it is to be able to converse and teach in that language without having to read a translation from a piece of paper.

I’m not trying to sound all clichéd and inspirational. I’m trying to make a necessary point because if any of you guys reading are like me, then you need to hear this. Life is not safe; it’s not predictable or kind. If you want to make something of yourself, if you want to grow and learn, and leave behind something meaningful, then you have to take risks. You have to leave, for a time, whatever it is that makes you feel secure (your family, school, the living room couch) and make that gamble. It will change your life. Now I’m not saying that one decision will change your life. Instead, what changes your life is consistently overcoming your fears and taking chances. Take a chance and apply for that job or internship you think you will never get or that promotion at the office. Go out with that guy at the coffee shop although you’re afraid of getting hurt again. Sign up for that college class although you think you are not smart enough. Hey, apply for the Peace Corps. If you want to completely leave anything that could be called a safety zone, that’s one way to do it. I emphasize this point because, for many years, I played it safe and did not take many chances. I was afraid of not being talented or smart enough, of failing in general. I had so many excuses and reasons for not going anywhere significant in life. Fortunately, I realized this so I overcompensated slightly and did what could be considered either the smartest thing I’ve ever done or the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I decided to take a two-year volunteer position in a small African country thousands of miles from home and doing a job I had never done before in a language I had never heard of.

Yea, my life now is hard and new. Yea, I don’t know what I’m doing half of the time. I live and eat very poorly by American standards. I walk around half understood and half understanding, gossiped about and stared at. But when I think about these things, I start thinking about my fellow villagers. My life is hard but their’s is harder. Have you ever met someone so poor that he has to go out into the forests or countryside every day to try to find something to eat? His children have never gone to school or been vaccinated. Their clothes are literally falling off of their bodies. You probably wouldn’t even use those clothes for rags. Yea, my life is easier. And about being half understood, imagine living your whole life in one little village, struggling in the fields day by day to feed your family. There are few to no opportunities for advancement, education and a way out of that life. No one really cares or comes to try to make your life better. You don’t really have a voice.

When I start considering these things and thinking about the people I live with, I remember why I took that risk and joined the Peace Corps.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

The ten plagues of Rwanda

Blog June 1, 2009

I had a visitor last week. He stayed for several days, with no prior notice. Fortunately, he was pretty quiet and stayed out of my way most of the time. His only annoying habit was trying to eat my food and run under my feet when I was near him. He was also small, furry and ran very fast. And I was absolutely terrified of him.

As you might have guessed, my visitor was a mouse. A little, brown mouse. The first night I saw him I was in my bed talking on the phone. I screamed and started banging things around to get him out of my room. I made so much noise, my neighbors thought I was being robbed and came over to check on me. I then barricaded myself in my room and finally went to sleep. In the morning, I looked around for him but did not find him. Thinking he had run out my back door, I left for work. That night, when I was cooking, I saw him again! He was in my kitchen running over my plates and kitchen utensils. Taking drastic measures, I grabbed my squeegee and started chasing him. My neighbor came over for something and I recruited him in the mouse hunt. Under no circumstances was I sharing quarters with a mouse! Unfortunately, the mouse outsmarted us. After thirty minutes of searching and sealing all the doors, we could not find him. Disheartened, I let my neighbor go home and I went to bed. The next morning, I went into the kitchen and found my cheese eaten. Furious, I vowed that this situation would end that same day. Grabbing the squeegee, I started banging around the kitchen until the little monster showed himself and started running across the floor. I closed the kitchen door but the mouse, being so small, escaped underneath. I chased him into the hall and saw that he had hid himself behind the hall door, the little fool. Gathering my courage, I did what had to be done and the mouse died. After I finished, I realized that my whole body was shaking. Sure, I had killed insects before but never something that was so obviously warm-blooded and breathing. I scooted it outside the house into my backyard. Afraid it would wake up and run inside again, I raised my squeegee high in the air, closed my eyes, and gave a good last wham on the poor thing.

I wish I could tell you this was my only incident with unwanted guests. Since that day, it seems like I have been inundated with various uninvited critters and I have been trying to get rid of them. Ants are a big problem in my house especially when I bring in pineapple and other such goodies. They don’t really bother me that much; they are just annoying. Spiders are also common but they don’t really bother me either. What really bothers me is looking into my latrine one day and realizing, oh crap, what are those white worms crawling all over my poop. Yeah, sorry to be so direct about this but if I have to deal with it, you, my reader, can deal with it too. Like an idiot, I had never bothered to cover my latrine. Therefore, flies decided to make it their main nesting ground and voila, hundreds and hundreds of fly larvae now live there. Yeah, I know. Gross, super gross. But what can I do about it. I can’t really relocate them. The first few nights, I stared in amazement at the colony. When they started trying to migrate upwards, I realized I was in deep trouble and I broke out my bleach. Like a sadist, I poured the bleach into the hole, watched the critters struggle for a minute and then covered the hole. Unfortunately, the larvae are tough and lived on. I have been pouring bleach into my latrine for the past few days but they still live! Maybe, I should just pour kerosene down the hole and set the whole shebang on fire. Haha. Just kidding, Mom. I would never do that, no matter how tempting it is.

A few days before the latrine incident, I decided to cook some pinto beans. Realizing I was out, I went to the store and bought a kilo. After I came home and opened my bag, I realized my beans were moving. Incredulous, I adjusted my eyes to see hundreds of these pinto bean termites crawling all over my beans. I had been invaded by one of the plagues of Egypt! At the time, one of my Rwandan friends was visiting. He took one look into the bag and asked me, “You didn’t check the beans before buying them?!” Feeling like a fool, I replied dully, “Noooo, I didn’t even know you had to check beans before buying them.” I poured my beans out on a platter and stared at the termites dredging tunnels through all the beans. Annoyed and embarrassed, I decided to boycott the store and storekeeper who sold me the beans; then, I realized it was probably the only store in town that sold beans. I finally exclaimed (like I had done several times before), “In the States, this would never happen!” To which my friend replied, like a real smart-ass, “Oh, I’m sorry the FDA didn’t have time to inspect that batch of beans before it was sold. Maybe, you should go back to the store and get your money back.” He then told me the beans I bought were about five seasons old so it would take much longer to cook than ordinary beans. Like I didn’t already cook my beans for about five to six hours, now I had beans that took longer!

Anyway, I guess that’s life, right. We make mistakes, learn from them and hopefully do not commit the same mistakes again. Granted, it is embarrassing when you first do them, but what can you do about that? In case, you are wondering what I did with the beans, I did not throw them away. We put the beans out in the sun so the termites would crawl away. After several hours, I threw away the beans that had termites still in them or that had more than two holes. With the rest, I just threw them in a pot and ate them that night. You think that’s gross. Just wait until I tell you what I do with my bread when I find ants on them. I blow and shake the ants off of my bread and then I eat it. I can’t throw it away, like I would in the States! If I threw all my bread away, I would have nothing to eat for breakfast and lunch. I lose enough weight as it is. So far, I have lost about 12 pounds and I have gone down two dress sizes. The Peace Corps diet, my friend calls it, and I’m on it. Don’t worry. I won’t starve or anything. I will just be a little thinner when you see me next time. Anyway, I guess my sister must have realized my situation because she sent me a care package. You know what she sent me through the mail?! She sent me chicken! I had never thought of chicken being sent in a package but it was. And I can’t even tell you the last time I ate chicken here. I’m going to save it for a special occasion because it looks really good.