The more I travel around Africa the more I realize how much I love belonging to one place. It was great to have the adventure of a $12 bus ride across the boarder into Rwanda, finding a guest house before the sun set which was $6 per night, and wondering around the city for the weekend, but it’s good to be back in Buja where things are familiar.
It was an amazing Easter weekend. Stephanie and I had one goal, relax. We strolled around the city being tourists. It was great to have the freedom to just look and shop. Kigali is more developed than Buja and so we kept asking ourselves, “where are we?”
We connected with a friend who is living there and she took us to her workplace. It is a house for 20+ boys that she rescued off the streets. It was great getting to lead an Easter egg hunt. Children will be children, when allowed, no matter where you go. It was wonderful to see their faces as they raced out of the house searching in the bushes for the hidden eggs. They we so proud when they found an egg and got to present it to us in exchange for a piece of candy. After the hunt one boy took me around the back of the house and showed me the rabbits that they are raising. I asked if the rabbits were for eating and the boy proudly said yes and grabbed some grass clippings and fed them to the rabbit. I don’t think he understood so the jury is still out about the destiny of the rabbits. It was great to have one on one time with one of the boys. I was trying not to be overwhelmed by the reality that 2 years ago all these boys were on the street with no future and no hope. The fun and excitement was halted when one of the workers told us that they needed to go because it was time for church. What a great moment where the value of church was such a priority. These boys now can access that hope that they were lacking before. As we left the boys stated in their best English, “See you tomorrow.” I had to explain “Edgo jewe Burundi” (tomorrow me Burundi). They were sad to see us go but Burundi is where I belong. It’s where my ministry is. I must be faithful.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Trip to the US Embassy
We were told at the beginning of our time here that we should register at the embassy. Well in good African time frame 2 months later we finally went to register. Can I just say praise God for AC. It was wonderful! And there was a cold water cooler with great tasting water! I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting but it was just a small entry way with windows to chat with people, like at the bank. In good American fashion we filled out some paperwork and were on our way. It was nice to look at magazines all in English. There was one that had cartoons in it that I actually understood. Not common with all the French papers and magazines.
Oh on our way into embassy we saw a Chevy! I know a Chevy in Burundi. We were shocked too. Dad I thought you would be proud an American purchasing an American vehicle.
Oh on our way into embassy we saw a Chevy! I know a Chevy in Burundi. We were shocked too. Dad I thought you would be proud an American purchasing an American vehicle.
It's good to be back
Walking to chapel I saw people staring at me. I mentioned it to Stephanie. She said that it was no different than before we left, we were just used to it. During the songs in chapel I leaned over to Stephanie with a smile on my face, “it’s good to be back, foreign songs I know”, I said. She agreed.
I’m surprised at how many students and faculty noticed that we were gone. Even the barista asked me where I had gone. (now that’s bad)
I’m surprised at how many students and faculty noticed that we were gone. Even the barista asked me where I had gone. (now that’s bad)
Leaving New Friends
I was not expecting it to be hard to leave retreat being that I didn’t know anyone going into it. It was almost as hard as leaving the US, but this time I knew what I was going back to. It was amazing as we got closer to Buja…I got excited. The man next to me on the plane, a Kenyan, told me that he could see in my eyes that I was excited to be back. It was true. This place, Bujumbura, is no longer foreign to me. I knew where to go in the airport. When driving back to campus I knew where I was and the roads I was traveling on. I thought that from now on I will never be a stranger to Bujumbura again. We stopped on the way to pick up groceries and were back to our apartment. It felt good to come back. To enter a place that was familiar.
Because Stephanie and I were tired from the flight and had eaten so much the whole time we were in Kenya we decided to just have popcorn and watch Pride and Prejudice to end our day.
Because Stephanie and I were tired from the flight and had eaten so much the whole time we were in Kenya we decided to just have popcorn and watch Pride and Prejudice to end our day.
What really happened in Kenya
Waiting in the airport
I decided early on that we were going to be friends so we had to take a bff pic over looking the Great Riff Valley.
Giraffe will walk around the grounds of the hotel. I we on a walk and they were just chilling among the trees.
Took a walk out to the lake with some friends. Look what we found. I could have thrown a rock at them!!! (because how close they were not because I was being malicious)
Camel anyone?
What about some crocodile?
Happy family rockin’ it in Ethiopia!
Seconds on camel…it was that good! (really I’m not joking)
Good times
Could they find us a smaller plane? Every seat was filled too.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Kenya Trip
An opportunity to feel western comfort. We are staying at a tourist resort in Kenya. It is so nice to be full on food that tastes great, cooler climate so I can wear my jeans, socks and shoes, walk on carpet, take a hot shower, and talk and laugh with other Americans and some Canadians. For the first time in 2 months I feel normal. I’m not the minority. I understand the language, jokes, cultural norms, and I’m not the center of honor or attention. I have let down my guard. I don’t have to worry about offending anyone.
Talking with missionaries from all over Africa and the Middle East is really nice. I can say something about how I’m feeling or what I’m going through and they understand or they have had a similar experience. I’m one of the newest to this population and so it’s great hearing wisdom and advice from those who have been at this many years.
Pictures to follow at a later date
Talking with missionaries from all over Africa and the Middle East is really nice. I can say something about how I’m feeling or what I’m going through and they understand or they have had a similar experience. I’m one of the newest to this population and so it’s great hearing wisdom and advice from those who have been at this many years.
Pictures to follow at a later date
Lonely bus ride home 3/22/10
Yes the people are wonderful and yes life is life here but the truth is I want to go home. I just got home from town. It was a wonderful trip to town. The internet was working really well and my mom was online. We chatted for probably an hour and a half. It was the first time that we haven’t been pressed for time. We chatted like when I was back at home. Leaving the connection was so hard. The sun began to drop in the sky and because I was alone I knew I needed to get to the bus before dusk. The whole time in town you have to have your game face on. There is a bus face and a market face. Bus face is the stoic silent look that you put on when you are riding the bus. The market face is more serious and your walk is faster. It tells people that I’m on my way somewhere and I don’t want you to try anything. I made it to the bus but the bus I wanted to get on was full. I walked back to the second bus and got on. The men outside began to yell at one another. I hate it when they do that. I have no idea what they are arguing about and don’t know what is going to happen. Some people on the bus began to exit but I wasn’t in a mood to find another bus. A sweet faced girl about my age got on next to me. She seemed so friendly I waned to ask her about her day and where she went to school. I managed what I could. She kept looking at me like she had something to say but it was followed by a sorrowful look, the “oh you can’t understand me” look. I hate that look. The girls behind me, defiantly in high school were chattering away. I laid my head back and one touched my hair. I could tell by their word choice that they were discussing my hair. Then she began to play with it. I completely ignored it. I love it when people play with my hair. I felt like I was back at home. I wanted to sit up straighter so that she would play with it more but I thought she might stop. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed it. When we finally began to drive off there were many remarks and pointing at me. This is normal but I wasn’t in the mood. After a while the high school girl next to the one touching my hair grabbed my head and I’m sure her words were, “don’t you feel her playing with your hair.” The girl sitting next to me looked at me like she felt bad for me. Another comment from outside the window. The girl next to me couldn’t take it; she shook her head and looked away. I wanted to text my mom and tell her about the situation but I couldn’t. I began to cry but I couldn’t let the tears fall. This is Burundi and no one cries. When I got off the bus a lady in a car was looking at me with a gentle face. She asked me in English if I was going to Hope Africa and then told me that she would love to drive me there. I was all in the sooner I got back to campus the better. She explained that she was a 4th year student studying theology. She told me that she saw me at church on Sunday. I hate it that only within this HAU community can I understand people. I knew that was going to be hard coming to Burundi but wow. I entered my empty apartment and let the tears flow. I miss my family so much. It is too hard.
Wow God has perfect timing. There was just a knock on the door. La Charity, who is taking care of all visiting professors, came by. This is the second time she has seen me cry over missing home. She explained to me some things that I was frustrated about culturally. She also told me that I needed to be busier. I totally agree. I told her my idea for going and visiting elementary schools with my students and she said we could talk about it after Kenya. I could see that there was something culturally wrong but that is a discussion for another day. I’m glad that she sees that I need to have more to do. She loves seeing pictures and I just put up lots in my room. I showed them to her and explained them. It was nice to tell her about home. Not so bad. She came by to share with me about my flight to Kenya. (Thank you to all of those who prayed everything is in and I can go!) What a blessing she is. Because she works with so many white people I feel comfortable to ask about culture and to break cultural norms with her. Thank you Lord for La Charity.
My tears are almost dry and I need to pack. As hard as it is to chat with people I miss I wouldn’t trade that precious time for anything.
Wow God has perfect timing. There was just a knock on the door. La Charity, who is taking care of all visiting professors, came by. This is the second time she has seen me cry over missing home. She explained to me some things that I was frustrated about culturally. She also told me that I needed to be busier. I totally agree. I told her my idea for going and visiting elementary schools with my students and she said we could talk about it after Kenya. I could see that there was something culturally wrong but that is a discussion for another day. I’m glad that she sees that I need to have more to do. She loves seeing pictures and I just put up lots in my room. I showed them to her and explained them. It was nice to tell her about home. Not so bad. She came by to share with me about my flight to Kenya. (Thank you to all of those who prayed everything is in and I can go!) What a blessing she is. Because she works with so many white people I feel comfortable to ask about culture and to break cultural norms with her. Thank you Lord for La Charity.
My tears are almost dry and I need to pack. As hard as it is to chat with people I miss I wouldn’t trade that precious time for anything.
Realization
It doesn't matter where you are life is still the same. There are joys and sorrows, work and play. I still need to find things to do with my free time. Spending time with friends and family (my makeshift family here) is still most important to me. I'm still the same person with the same faults and same strengths. Life is life no matter where you are at. The great thing about it all is that God is still God anywhere I go. What a blessing to have such a great travel buddy.
Trip Up Country
Everyone likes pictures. This was a great time of relaxation and having restful fun. Here is my time Up Country in Kibuye.
Took the 3 hour trip up with the first graduating class of medical students from HAU. What a blast!!! I was squished in a van with 20 college students who were so very excited. Silliness included, dedicating songs to random people, making phone calls to family members, singing along into the water bottle mic, teasing me for my Mzungu ness, and much dancing.
Here is my seat buddy after the trip was over.
What the students came to do.
Dinner one night, chili and popcorn. Suffering in Africa for Jesus ;)
Had to make a few stops along the way to a clinic for Dr. Ogden and Dr. Trotter to help at. We are dropping off some patients who needed extra care at the Catholic hospital.
Got stuck on the way. Children came out of no where to help out.
While the doctors were busy we women went to the maternity ward to hold some babies!
This mother just had the baby 10 hours before! I was shocked too. She was so happy to let me hold her baby. I was grateful.
Then we went up to the secondary school to check it out. These students are studying for an exam.
This is the kitchen where all the food is prepared for the students. Mom I thought you would enjoy a shot of this.
The man in the red was is the principal of the school and invited me back again. That would be great, please Lord.
This is the kitchen in which they made lunch.
We were then given a feast to thank the doctors for coming. In the 3 hours we were there together they saw over 60 patients. This clinic doesn’t have any doctors so patients that need a doc have to wait or travel to another clinic.
The doctor’s thank you gift for serving at the hospital. It was living when we got it but here Ezekiel is preparing it for us.
A hike up the mountain early one morning. Kibuye means rock…there were lots of rocks at the top.
Giant moth found in Carol’s yard. Any thoughts on what kind it is?
travel buddy looking sharp (Burundians don’t normally smile for pictures, so it’s not because she is upset with me, it’s a sign of respect)
I told them this was a Mzungu shot and they should smile, well some did.
This is part of the student group. These are the ones that played volleyball with me. So much fun!!!
I will miss them back at campus. They are in training for 3-4 weeks.
Don this pic is for you and Stuart. He is carving this log with a machete. Super manly
I was picked up from Kibuye and taken to some friends’ house for the night. The day before I left the wife came over to make sure I was still going. Before she left she leaned over and said, “Are you sure, African style”. I told her I was sure. When we got to their house and she was helping me wash my hands in a bucket she again leaned over and said, “I told you, African style.” We had a great Burundi meal. And then off to bed. In the morning they put me in a taxi and sent me on my way. It was great to be in a house for a night.
The taxi driver was great. He wasn’t crazy at passing other cars! That was nice. He didn’t speak any English but he had a CD with English. That was very nice of him to think of me but the music was terrible. Where do these Burundians get this American music that is junk. I know that it was not his favorite music or the other three Burundians in the car but I have to hand it to them for their hospitality even if all 5 of us hated the songs.
Took the 3 hour trip up with the first graduating class of medical students from HAU. What a blast!!! I was squished in a van with 20 college students who were so very excited. Silliness included, dedicating songs to random people, making phone calls to family members, singing along into the water bottle mic, teasing me for my Mzungu ness, and much dancing.
Here is my seat buddy after the trip was over.
What the students came to do.
Dinner one night, chili and popcorn. Suffering in Africa for Jesus ;)
Had to make a few stops along the way to a clinic for Dr. Ogden and Dr. Trotter to help at. We are dropping off some patients who needed extra care at the Catholic hospital.
Got stuck on the way. Children came out of no where to help out.
While the doctors were busy we women went to the maternity ward to hold some babies!
This mother just had the baby 10 hours before! I was shocked too. She was so happy to let me hold her baby. I was grateful.
Then we went up to the secondary school to check it out. These students are studying for an exam.
This is the kitchen where all the food is prepared for the students. Mom I thought you would enjoy a shot of this.
The man in the red was is the principal of the school and invited me back again. That would be great, please Lord.
This is the kitchen in which they made lunch.
We were then given a feast to thank the doctors for coming. In the 3 hours we were there together they saw over 60 patients. This clinic doesn’t have any doctors so patients that need a doc have to wait or travel to another clinic.
The doctor’s thank you gift for serving at the hospital. It was living when we got it but here Ezekiel is preparing it for us.
A hike up the mountain early one morning. Kibuye means rock…there were lots of rocks at the top.
Giant moth found in Carol’s yard. Any thoughts on what kind it is?
travel buddy looking sharp (Burundians don’t normally smile for pictures, so it’s not because she is upset with me, it’s a sign of respect)
I told them this was a Mzungu shot and they should smile, well some did.
This is part of the student group. These are the ones that played volleyball with me. So much fun!!!
I will miss them back at campus. They are in training for 3-4 weeks.
Don this pic is for you and Stuart. He is carving this log with a machete. Super manly
I was picked up from Kibuye and taken to some friends’ house for the night. The day before I left the wife came over to make sure I was still going. Before she left she leaned over and said, “Are you sure, African style”. I told her I was sure. When we got to their house and she was helping me wash my hands in a bucket she again leaned over and said, “I told you, African style.” We had a great Burundi meal. And then off to bed. In the morning they put me in a taxi and sent me on my way. It was great to be in a house for a night.
The taxi driver was great. He wasn’t crazy at passing other cars! That was nice. He didn’t speak any English but he had a CD with English. That was very nice of him to think of me but the music was terrible. Where do these Burundians get this American music that is junk. I know that it was not his favorite music or the other three Burundians in the car but I have to hand it to them for their hospitality even if all 5 of us hated the songs.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Saturday March 13, 2010
It’s 10:30am and I feel like it’s at least 3pm. There has been so much accomplished on this great Saturday.
Every morning at 4:30 the Muslim call to prayer can be heard over a mega phone. I have gotten used to sleeping through it but this morning I wasn’t so lucky. Thinking that my parents might still be up I got up to skype them. The power was off and the computer wasn’t charged so instead I watched the sunrise.
It was great to look over at the Burundian mountains as the sky behind them turned from orange to pink.
The generator was started and the electric fans that are always on began to blow. I plugged in the computer and got online. It was nice to see my family. It gets easier to see them each time we get on. For the first time I was able to chat with Adam, that was hard. I began to cry. He asked me if I was ok. I told him I was, that I just missed him. It’s a good day when you get to see your brother after 6 weeks of no contact!
After the minutes ran out and our conversation was cut short I decided to go and watch the football game (soccer). The HAU team practices Saturday mornings at 6:30am. The field is a short walk through Garbage Lane (as we have affectionately titled it). Once I saw the field I looked but didn’t see Javier. I thought about asking someone if they had seen a muzungo but on further inspection I spotted him. He blended in so well on the field.
A student came up to me and we had a good conversation. His English was excellent. He is a second year student from the Congo. Later he encouraged me to join others who were hitting around a volleyball. I was very excited to play!!! I got very sweaty very fast. It was lots of fun though.
Back at the apartment now, drinking a Fanta. What a hard Saturday. I guess I should grade some papers and plan some lessons now.
Every morning at 4:30 the Muslim call to prayer can be heard over a mega phone. I have gotten used to sleeping through it but this morning I wasn’t so lucky. Thinking that my parents might still be up I got up to skype them. The power was off and the computer wasn’t charged so instead I watched the sunrise.
It was great to look over at the Burundian mountains as the sky behind them turned from orange to pink.
The generator was started and the electric fans that are always on began to blow. I plugged in the computer and got online. It was nice to see my family. It gets easier to see them each time we get on. For the first time I was able to chat with Adam, that was hard. I began to cry. He asked me if I was ok. I told him I was, that I just missed him. It’s a good day when you get to see your brother after 6 weeks of no contact!
After the minutes ran out and our conversation was cut short I decided to go and watch the football game (soccer). The HAU team practices Saturday mornings at 6:30am. The field is a short walk through Garbage Lane (as we have affectionately titled it). Once I saw the field I looked but didn’t see Javier. I thought about asking someone if they had seen a muzungo but on further inspection I spotted him. He blended in so well on the field.
A student came up to me and we had a good conversation. His English was excellent. He is a second year student from the Congo. Later he encouraged me to join others who were hitting around a volleyball. I was very excited to play!!! I got very sweaty very fast. It was lots of fun though.
Back at the apartment now, drinking a Fanta. What a hard Saturday. I guess I should grade some papers and plan some lessons now.
Deaf School Anyone?
My students asked me today if I would arrange for them to take a field trip to the deaf school here in Buja. I’m excited about the opportunity to visit the deaf student. But I’m super thrilled to be able to take Burundians with me! It’s great to see how they care about the least of these in their society.
Night and Day
I have been asked enough that I have checked for a sign hanging on my back that says “free English tutor”. But there is not such a sign. A very tall Burundian student here at HAU came running towards me the other day shouting, “excuse me, excuse me.” One thing you must know, Burundians don’t shout at each other. If one wants someone’s attention they hiss. (I hate that) Another thing Burundians don’t run, unless they are playing football (soccer). And now that I think of it most Burundians don’t fit into the tall category. I actually don’t fell short here because of that, it’s nice. Mom you will love it. Well side notes aside he began to ask me if I would tutor him in English. I started in with my well rehearsed, I’m not the English teacher my cousin is, routine. He wasn’t having it. He spoke with urgency and a slight studded. He explained that he knew I was very busy and so the tutoring could be only once a week for a half an hour. This sounded nice. All the others that desired tutoring wanted help every night. I told him that there was an English fluency class that was forming with no charge. He said he was very busy. He began listing his commitments to church, bible study, and choir. His life sounded like mine back home. I’m not sure what made me say yes but there I was signing up for weekly quality time with the tall Burundian teaching a language I have troubles all by myself without trying to explain things.
A few days later a girl came up to me in chapel. She began to explain herself in French. I gave her the, “I care about you but have no idea what you are saying” look. She then said, “Swahili?” I shook my head no. She then began in English. She could introduce herself. She is Congolese, an economics major and this is her first year at HAU. Then it was back to French. I could tell by her intro that it was a well rehearsed piece of literature for her. My eyebrows began to furrow and a worried look began growing on my face. She has a cute smile that sits nicely on her sweet face, which is framed by her tightly curled braids. I could tell she was smart and had lots to say. She wanted something specific from me. Deep down I knew it was an English tutor. The language barrier was large enough that she ended up walking away.
You should be careful when you let down your guard and say yes to a tall Burundian, the same question might be asked of you two days later from a sweet faced Congolese girl. She found me after chapel and called over her friend to translate. I had to give it to her, there was no getting around it this girl was persistent. I gave in, Wednesdays at 6.
It was 4:45 and I heard Stephanie say, “they’re coming”. Men began to parade into our apartment. The first had two foam mattresses. The second and third carried the bed frame, the fourth and fifth carried slats that would work as a box springs without the spring. Then the girls came. Emiline, our house girl, had some sheets. Another girl brought a pillow. Two other girls seemed to be there just to watch. When I saw the first man I quickly shut the door to Stephanie’s bedroom, where I was resting in shorts and a tank top. I threw on a skirt and a button up top to cover my shoulders. I hurried into my room to help move things out of the way. By the time I had moved the things and gotten out of the way the parade of men and girls was going the other direction. Here in Burundi they know that many hands make light work. Stephanie and I were again alone. I heard something in my room though. It was Emiline. In the rush of people in and out I didn’t notice that she had stayed back. She was in my room making up my bed with clean white sheets. As she was leaving I remembered the mosquito net which was currently over the middle of the room. My bed was against the side wall. I took her into my room and pointed to the net, then pointed to the bed. She understood and left.
It was 5:45. Stephanie and I were in the kitchen making macaroni and cheese. Priska was at the door followed by John Baptist holding a tall ladder. “Come in, you are welcome” I said. No explanation needed, Stephanie and I went back to cooking. Because of the excitement of the day the time got away from me and so dinner was started later than it should have. It wasn’t finished until 6. I quickly ate it and made my way down to the library to meet my tutoree after some last minute coaching from Steph. I entered the library and looked all over, no sign of her. I looked at my watch 6:10, did I miss her? I stayed for 15min and looked in the novel section. I found a book I liked and checked it out. Adam, the one checking out books and I had a good conversation. He liked my name and I sure liked his. I told him about my brother. I then made my way towards the door and was stopped by, “teacher, teacher.” It was the man at the coat check. Well it’s not a coat check it’s a bag check. Before entering the library students must drop their bags off to stifle the desire to steal books. He wanted to know the question everyone has, “how do you find Burundi?” They want to know if I like the climate and the people. I’m always happy to respond to that question. I love it here! After that conversation I made my way up to my apartment again. 10 minutes after I was at the apartment I heard a knock on the door; it was the sweet faced Congolese girl. I told her I would be right down. There wasn’t a quiet place to talk anywhere, we settled on pulling two chairs out to the hall of the new building under a florescent light.
Now if I thought that the first and second encounter with her in the chapel was hard then this was like pulling out teeth. This is not my gift. I drew pictures and she said words. She would tell me what she wanted in French. There are some words that are the same in French and English. From those words I gathered that what I was teaching was not what she wanted. She said conversation, but when I began conversation it didn’t seem of interest to her. We talked about music, at first she seemed very interested but then I knew she didn’t want to just talk. After much awkwardness she pulled out a text from her English class. She began to read it. I helped her with her pronunciation of words and she seemed to like that. After she was done I still felt that she wanted something different. I settled on the fact that on Friday at chapel we would get someone to translate for us and she could then tell me what she was wanting. I came home feeling discouraged and stressed out.
Going to tutor today was not a high priority for me. I was not looking forward to awkward silence and confused looks, but I told him I would go. We had the same problem of locating a place to meet. We finally gave up on the new building and went to the cafeteria. The chapel team was practicing and so it was hard to hear him. He talked for 40 minutes in perfect English all about his passion for Christ and the lost. He told me about how he enjoys visiting those who are ill in hospitals, his cousin living in England who has no hope, and a history of Burundi and the wars. It was great to hear someone share all about his faith. It was great to listen to his heart for the lost. It was great to listen to the history of Burundi from the perspective of the inside.
When he was through I asked him if he just wanted to sit and have conversation. He told me that it was up to me. He wanted to show me his skill level. I don’t think he believed me when I told him he only made 5 grammatical errors in the whole 40 minutes. It was awkward sitting in the room just the two of us so when he asked if his friend could join next week I said, “Absolutely!” It will be nice to have a third person in the room. He wants to enhance his vocabulary; I can help with that!
Two tutoring sessions, one leaves me anxious and stressed the other blessed and uplifted. As different as night and day.
A few days later a girl came up to me in chapel. She began to explain herself in French. I gave her the, “I care about you but have no idea what you are saying” look. She then said, “Swahili?” I shook my head no. She then began in English. She could introduce herself. She is Congolese, an economics major and this is her first year at HAU. Then it was back to French. I could tell by her intro that it was a well rehearsed piece of literature for her. My eyebrows began to furrow and a worried look began growing on my face. She has a cute smile that sits nicely on her sweet face, which is framed by her tightly curled braids. I could tell she was smart and had lots to say. She wanted something specific from me. Deep down I knew it was an English tutor. The language barrier was large enough that she ended up walking away.
You should be careful when you let down your guard and say yes to a tall Burundian, the same question might be asked of you two days later from a sweet faced Congolese girl. She found me after chapel and called over her friend to translate. I had to give it to her, there was no getting around it this girl was persistent. I gave in, Wednesdays at 6.
It was 4:45 and I heard Stephanie say, “they’re coming”. Men began to parade into our apartment. The first had two foam mattresses. The second and third carried the bed frame, the fourth and fifth carried slats that would work as a box springs without the spring. Then the girls came. Emiline, our house girl, had some sheets. Another girl brought a pillow. Two other girls seemed to be there just to watch. When I saw the first man I quickly shut the door to Stephanie’s bedroom, where I was resting in shorts and a tank top. I threw on a skirt and a button up top to cover my shoulders. I hurried into my room to help move things out of the way. By the time I had moved the things and gotten out of the way the parade of men and girls was going the other direction. Here in Burundi they know that many hands make light work. Stephanie and I were again alone. I heard something in my room though. It was Emiline. In the rush of people in and out I didn’t notice that she had stayed back. She was in my room making up my bed with clean white sheets. As she was leaving I remembered the mosquito net which was currently over the middle of the room. My bed was against the side wall. I took her into my room and pointed to the net, then pointed to the bed. She understood and left.
It was 5:45. Stephanie and I were in the kitchen making macaroni and cheese. Priska was at the door followed by John Baptist holding a tall ladder. “Come in, you are welcome” I said. No explanation needed, Stephanie and I went back to cooking. Because of the excitement of the day the time got away from me and so dinner was started later than it should have. It wasn’t finished until 6. I quickly ate it and made my way down to the library to meet my tutoree after some last minute coaching from Steph. I entered the library and looked all over, no sign of her. I looked at my watch 6:10, did I miss her? I stayed for 15min and looked in the novel section. I found a book I liked and checked it out. Adam, the one checking out books and I had a good conversation. He liked my name and I sure liked his. I told him about my brother. I then made my way towards the door and was stopped by, “teacher, teacher.” It was the man at the coat check. Well it’s not a coat check it’s a bag check. Before entering the library students must drop their bags off to stifle the desire to steal books. He wanted to know the question everyone has, “how do you find Burundi?” They want to know if I like the climate and the people. I’m always happy to respond to that question. I love it here! After that conversation I made my way up to my apartment again. 10 minutes after I was at the apartment I heard a knock on the door; it was the sweet faced Congolese girl. I told her I would be right down. There wasn’t a quiet place to talk anywhere, we settled on pulling two chairs out to the hall of the new building under a florescent light.
Now if I thought that the first and second encounter with her in the chapel was hard then this was like pulling out teeth. This is not my gift. I drew pictures and she said words. She would tell me what she wanted in French. There are some words that are the same in French and English. From those words I gathered that what I was teaching was not what she wanted. She said conversation, but when I began conversation it didn’t seem of interest to her. We talked about music, at first she seemed very interested but then I knew she didn’t want to just talk. After much awkwardness she pulled out a text from her English class. She began to read it. I helped her with her pronunciation of words and she seemed to like that. After she was done I still felt that she wanted something different. I settled on the fact that on Friday at chapel we would get someone to translate for us and she could then tell me what she was wanting. I came home feeling discouraged and stressed out.
Going to tutor today was not a high priority for me. I was not looking forward to awkward silence and confused looks, but I told him I would go. We had the same problem of locating a place to meet. We finally gave up on the new building and went to the cafeteria. The chapel team was practicing and so it was hard to hear him. He talked for 40 minutes in perfect English all about his passion for Christ and the lost. He told me about how he enjoys visiting those who are ill in hospitals, his cousin living in England who has no hope, and a history of Burundi and the wars. It was great to hear someone share all about his faith. It was great to listen to his heart for the lost. It was great to listen to the history of Burundi from the perspective of the inside.
When he was through I asked him if he just wanted to sit and have conversation. He told me that it was up to me. He wanted to show me his skill level. I don’t think he believed me when I told him he only made 5 grammatical errors in the whole 40 minutes. It was awkward sitting in the room just the two of us so when he asked if his friend could join next week I said, “Absolutely!” It will be nice to have a third person in the room. He wants to enhance his vocabulary; I can help with that!
Two tutoring sessions, one leaves me anxious and stressed the other blessed and uplifted. As different as night and day.
7 cups and counting
I saw it in the sky, it was going to rain. The sky gives a ten minute warning before it rains. This is a regular occurrence at least two times per week. I was sitting in my room correcting papers enjoying the cool breezes that the almost wet air was bringing. Stephanie was in the living room also correcting papers. I heard it begin coming down. The way the rain pounds against the medal roof above our heads, who could miss it. The wind was still blowing and it began to rain side wards at the perfect angle that the maximum amount of water that could enter our open window. I shouted at Steph and we franticly began shutting the windows. Water began to pool under the windows in my room and the living room; both facing west. We finally got the drapes out of the way and all the windows closed. We Americans forgot all about the cinder blocks above the windows that are for ventilation. They are screened in but there is no way to cover them. The rain was pounding so hard that rain was hitting the east wall of my bedroom. Stephanie and I were scrambling around searching for towels or anything really to cover the electronics. Once that was accomplished we took a breath and looked around. We could see water gushing under the closed window, running down the wall and on to the floor. I quickly moved the carpet out of the way. The building is cement, no wood so there is not a concern of drywall or sub floor getting wet. So our focus was on the things in the room getting wet. I went to our porch and grabbed a bucket and the floor rag and began moping up the water and wringing it into the bucket. On our way from my bedroom to the living room we noticed that the kitchen window was also open. It is on a hinge and it swings over the table that was full of dirty dishes. I franticly moved the dishes while being pelted by the rain. Once the window was closed I went back to the rag and bucket. Then the rain slowed to a stop. I was still on the floor with the rag. Stephanie was still covering things and moving other things out of the way. The rain storm lasted only 10 min but it seemed much longer. By the time I had finished moping up the water I was curious how much water really came into the apartment. I got out the one cup measure and began to pour the dirty water from the bucket into the cup. Seven cups my friends! There were seven cups of water in the living room and bedroom. I didn’t want to crawl under the table in the kitchen to mop up the water so I let that air dry. So not including the kitchen, which I’m sure was at least 3 cups; there was seven cups of water in our apartment. The next time the sky tells us it is going to rain I will listen.
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