A Push Towards Pleasant

Haters gonna hate.

I got an interesting piece of anonymous hate mail yesterday about my blog. Apparently my admitted whining and moaning about certain things with which I don't get on very well bothered someone immensely, so much in fact that they feared to identify themselves.

Normally, I would defend or apologize...but this is my blog, and I don't have to apologize. This is my space where I can complain and have my opinion, fully acknowledging that it is all exactly that - my opinion. If you don't agree with me, or you can't stand my passing (oftentimes inconsequential) thoughts, then why are you reading the blog, still? If you don't enjoy my stories and sarcasm, I encourage you to stop reading the blog, for both your and my own sakes.

On Corruption and Double Standards

It was bound to happen someday. I tried very hard to avoid writing about it, but I have to. Corruption. It's everywhere. I know, I know, what else is new, Kim? But I don't think I'm talking about the kind of corruption most people think about.

My Ugandan colleague always shouts out, "This is corruption!" Whether it's someone taking an extra chip off of a plate, or it's someone who didn't answer her after she asks them something. It's all very tongue in cheek. As I am.

Anyways, I'm talking about the corruption in the people.

While, yes, there is always corruption on a more institutional level, people in their daily lives exude corruption on a very subliminal level. And it all boils down to one word: Sorry.

Sorry sorry. Oh, sorry.

Why I Don't Want to Be an Aid Worker

I'll stick to this kind of aid, methinks.

I was walking home today from Woodlands, the neighborhood convenient store, thinking about a lot on my mind. The big thing that has been so incredible to realize on this trip, for me, has been the fact that I think I don't actually want to do the thing that I thought I wanted to do in life, anymore.

I don't want to be an aid worker.

I don't know...maybe that will change in time someday. Maybe one day further into life I'll wake up and realize that is actually what would serve my highest good. But for now (and I am pretty sure for a good amount of future) aid work is not on my list of things to do anymore. It's funny, how it was kind of this pie in the sky dream for me for a long time, and I had fantasies of living the life of an aid worker overseas, saving children from burning bushes and wiping the brows of survivors of conflicts, and getting gold-dipped pictures of me in the bush smiling with a sage-like sense of peace and compassion on my face. With adoring locals surrounding me like I'm Jesus giving the Sermon on the Mount. You know the pictures - we've all seen the do-gooder images plastered all over the place.

Kvetching

*Insert blood-curdling scream here*

Okay, there's a problem in the house.

Today was the second day in a row where I was in the shower and halfway through the shower, in mid-frothy sud, the water in the shower stopped coming out. I don't mean drops of water still sputtering out of the spigot - I'm talking no water coming out at all. First the water is there, then it thins out rather dramatically, then....nothing. Had you been there for my mysterious, unfortunate turn of bathing events, you would have heard a colorful array of words and grunts coming from the bathroom. I was pissed.

At first I thought that it was a potential poaching problem. Someone is tapping our water pipes and taking out our hard-earned water reserves!

Then I thought, oh my goddess we're in a drought! That's it! The water is gone! We don't have any more water! I can't live like this! I have to evacuate this place ASAP!

Akagera National Park

I didn't really get to see this area at all. Nope.

My traveling around East Africa has been more difficult than I had expected. I have a few weeks left, but a lot of my travel ideas, like going to Bujumbura in Burundi, have been shelved by either safety precautions, lack of travel buddies, or financial limitations. 

For example, I've been urged to go see the gorillas while I'm here, but it costs a whopping $250 just to enter the park to see the gorillas! And that doesn't include the $120 vehicle you need to hire to get to the park, because regular taxis are not able to enter, either. And it doesn't include food or lodging, either. I am heavily debating it, and while I know it's a great experience, part of me really has to ask myself - am I willing to shell out so much for something I can do in the DRC or Uganda for MUCH cheaper? Rwanda definitely caters to a more lucrative crowd, and discourage backpacker-like tourists (ahem, that's me). And things here are rather inconvenient. I went to the Rwandan Development Board yesterday to try to get a gorilla permit, but they decided that they were not going to be open, despite advertising their hours to all. They didn't apologize or promise a discount - they just looked at me and the other gorilla-hopefuls there with the air of, "Well, that's too bad for you. That's life. Get over it." 

Minor Explorations

A few days ago Denise and I meandered a bit around town. We ended up at this restaurant called Mahalo becuse Denise had before met the woman that owned the place, and wanted to say hi. Strange...even though it's a Hawaiian-named restaurant, it was still all African buffet...

Anyways, we met her, Capi, and had a pleasant time talking with her. She's about our age, and is super sweet, and very gracious. Denise mentioned to her that we planned on visiting an area of town neither of us had yet been - Nyamirambo - and Capi looked at us with a smile, and said, "If you give me 10 minutes I can come with you and give you a tour." Pleasantly surprised, we waited.

Nyungwe Forest

So Denise, Maxine, Ariel and I decided to take a few days to soak up the relaxing quiet in the western region of Rwanda. This area is known for its amazing beauty because it's situated right in the big country rainforest, which hugs the Congolese border. We hopped in the car on Easter Sunday morning, and started our road trip towards the tropical paradise of Nyungwe.

Well, it didn't start off idyllic. The roads going towards Nyungwe are windy roads - very windy. As an unfortunate soul with a penchant for motion sickness, I took a pill of my trusty Dramamine, and prayed for the best. But heavens! the windy roads of Rwanda should be infamous across the world. You curve and turn and wind around the ups and downs of the tightly-packed mountains and hills in the country, and I swear anyone with a digestive tract would get sick without medical assistance. We watched buses go by us, speeding and careening through the snakelike roads, and people hung out of the buses to vomit all over the place. The buses, the further we were from Kigali, were covered in greens and oranges of bile that left the body prematurely.

Closing In on Memorial Week

Cow dung as art. No, really.

This week was a slow week at school. It was the week before Genocide Memorial Week, and school morale was pretty low as a result. The day before break began (which is today, also known as Good Friday), students were already having upset moments and getting a bit teary-eyed during class.

So I kept it easy this week, and gave them a lot of down time to do whatever they needed to do before holiday. Like, say, for example, my final project that was due two days ago.....

But what do you say to your students, who have to endure a week-long break filled with painful memories and sad meetings, to wish them well? Have a good break? Well, that seemed insensitive and a bit naive. I felt a bit helpless - could I say anything that would be appropriate for this special circumstance? Have a peaceful break?

What do you say?!

Little Observations

I get a ball(oon). I put it here. I feel happy.

You might be thinking that I'm living in my very own private sauna, being in Africa and all. I am not sure if it's just the country I'm in, or if it's the higher altitude, but it's actually not that hot over here. No, summers in NYC are much hotter, I feel. When it rains, I get cold. Granted, there are days where it's just sweltering, but then everyone is sweating and panting - not just me. In fact, it's rather lovely, most often. I don't need a coat, and I'm not crying from dehydration. Mama Bear-style weather. Just right.

And something that needs to be known...Asian people are always easy to find, no matter where you are. Even in Rwanda? Even in Rwanda. There is a healthy amount of Koreans and Japanese because they have a lot of telecom contracts here, and they have their countries' versions of Peace Corps scattered throughout Rwanda. Oh, and there are a ton of Chinese folk. They are doing a lot of construction and extraction work. The way a lot of us non-Chinese expats view it is, they are using Rwanda as a station to connect them to the Congo. Why? For their plethora of natural resources. The DRC has huge conflicts right now, largely because they're so rich in resources. Even Rwanda wants a piece of the action. But the Chinese were the first in line, and they are working hard to get the resources out and into their economy. It's merely an observation, but I am always surprised by what is consistent to where I'm familiar - like Chinatown.

Parties and Customer Service

Denise and I went to a rooftop party Saturday night in town. I was reluctant to go, but she wanted me to come so she could rub in my face a little bit that she won our month-long bet. The bet? That she wouldn't be able to resist dating a single man during the month of March. I was sure she'd lose - but alas! she's got will-power. So she was on the prowl on Saturday, and now I owe her a very nice dinner.

Well, rooftop party is a bit of a misnomer. We were on top of a building, yes...but it was an indoor parking garage. The party attendants looked in dismay up towards the tower next to the parking lot upon arrival. We were told a rooftop party, not a parking lot party. But I guess it was for the best, because the fog was thick and the top of the Kigali City Tower was hidden between misty clouds and hazy lights. Their drinks were expensive and yet cheap, if you know what I mean. But, TIA.

About Safety

So last night I went to go hang out and chat with my friend Jane. She lives in the part of town where all of the government building are, and a lot of the bigger NGOs. We usually just sit in her apartment and have long, deep conversations. It's wonderful.

Yesterday, though, when we were chatting, her eyes shifted towards the windows and noted quizzically that there were sirens in the distance. This is odd, because (as I have mentioned previously), ambulances are few and far between in Rwanda. What was going on? She soon after got a call from her boss that there were two blasts that just happened in two different areas of town. One was the city center, in an area I was going to go to that day but thought against it. The other one was nearby where I work and even closer to how I was going to get home (and always get home) from this area of Kigali.