Our Kigali Home 2.0

We've moved!  Here are some pictures and a tour of our new house!

Front of house & gardens

View from top of driveway

Dining room/office, looking into living room

Big kitchen!

House Tour!

Saturday marked our 3 week anniversary here in Kigali, and one of our big weekend events was our move to the new house. We brought most of our stuff over on Friday afternoon, watched Mazie's first football/soccer game (not great... it's a very different game than she's used to), moved the rest of our stuff over, and spent our first night there Friday night. It's been great so far. The only small issue over the weekend was that they were installing a second water tank and there were some water and power interruptions, but that finished up on Sunday and everything seems to be working great. We've been settling in and making small changes (like switching out some light bulbs for brighter ones) and are feeling pretty comfortable a few days in.

The house is quite a bit roomier overall, with more living spaces, a bigger kitchen, a master bath with an enclosed shower, desks in a couple of the bedrooms, and even a walk-in closet!  The garden / yard is lovely, with fruit trees (we've got some avocados ripening in a bag in the kitchen!) and vegetable plants (I cooked up some sort of leafy greens for dinner last night).  There are two "helpers" - Theo is the security guard and groundskeeper, who lives in a detached building behind the house, and Violetti is the cleaner who comes during the day.  We're definitely still adjusting to this level of help, but it's clear that this is an important employment sector, and I'm not going to lie, having someone do our dishes and laundry and clean our floors daily is very nice.  I'm trying to keep working on my Kinyarwanda to express my appreciation, and thinking about what/how we can give back to these people who are so helpful to us.  Ephrem, our helper at house 1.0, seemed sad to see us go, and also very excited about the 10K RFR (Rwandan Franc) we gave him as a thank you when we left.  (As Caleb has explained, someone with his job probably makes somewhere in the ballpark of 30K RWF or less than $30 USD/month, so 10K is a lot even though it seems like so little....)

Another big difference between House 1.0 and 2.0 is the neighborhood. 1.0 was in a quiet area with all gated homes and few people out & about, while 2.0 is close to a bustling main street and the dirt road leading up to our house has several small shops, many "normal" houses, and lots of humans going about their lives. There are non-gated homes alongside and behind ours, and our driveway seems to be a meeting spot for a group of 10 or so neighborhood kids, who have been very intrigued and excited about the new muzungu (white) family that just moved in. Alexa has made friends quickly, sharing her toys and jump ropes with them, and apparently directing a whole dance-gymnastics routine at one point? (Caleb witnessed it, I just heard about it after the fact.)

We love this and have been trying to figure out how to navigate the issue of The Gate: how can we allow/encourage interaction with our neighbors across this big physical barrier?  (One particularly cringy moment over the weekend: Lexi on her belly on the inside of the gate, handing out toys under the gate to all of the kids lined up on their bellies on the other side.)  Caleb has been musing a lot about The Gate... all the "nice" houses have them.  The implication is that you need a Gate to be "safe" and that safe = separate.  If The Gate went away, everyone (all the un-gated people?) would just come in an start taking all your stuff.  Which... maybe so, given this huge wealth gap we've seen between haves and have-nots, but it seems unlikely somehow.  It certainly doesn't feel unsafe outside the gate, at least to us.  It seems to me that The Gate is largely a status symbol - it's not possible to have a Nice House and not have a Gate.  If it were just us at the house, we'd likely keep the gate open a lot of the time and let the kids come and go.  But Theo's the security guard and is in charge of making sure we are safe behind the closed Gate, and our language skills aren't at the level to have a nuanced conversation with him about what safety really means and how we can figure out a solution that helps us all feel safe and comfortable.  

It's a lot.  Just another example of how we're trying to navigate our foreign and privileged existence here.  Kids' excitement at seeing muzungus (pointing, running up to us to touch us and give us high fives and hugs) admittedly feels good in some ways (I'm exciting and welcome here!), but also feels really f***ed up and makes me think again and again about the studies (cited in the Brown vs Board of Ed US Supreme Court desegregation decision) showing how both white and Black kids, at very young ages, would point to the white baby doll as the "good" baby, and the Black baby doll as the "bad" baby.  Is that the story these kids have in their heads?  Are they simply excited about my difference and otherness, or have they been taught (subtly or overtly) to see me as better, as a savior?  What do we do with that?  How can we carry out our non-mission mission of forming genuine human connections and learning about this place and its people and, hopefully, eventually, once we've learned enough, being helpful and supportive of Rwandan-led efforts towards equity and justice?  Should we even be here?  

Wow, that got heavy.  Caleb is sitting across from me at Question Coffee writing about the genocide for his post today so... sorry everyone.  We're having a lot of fun here too, I promise.  Here we are on a fun date night to a nearby rooftop bar on Saturday night. 

And here we are at our new closest coffee shop after walking the kids to school on the new route yesterday morning.  It's no Question (no decaf and no espresso), but they did make a nice spice tea for me.

View from the Good Life - the lower building with the red roof right in front of us is Green Hills Middle School

Still feeling down?  Go watch the house tour again.  I mean, a walk-in closet and an enclosed shower?  That's some good stuff.

 

Caleb's Log v.7

Let me just start by saying that v.8 will be fun and entertaining.  This post will be quite serious and very sad.

On Saturday, we finally made it to a Genocide Memorial.  The country has dozens of them all over the city and the country, but this one is the most significant, housing a museum and the mass graves of over 250,000 Rwandans.  We were so lucky to get a tour, guided by Joseph.  Without digging too much into the details of his life, he moved from Uganda to Rwanda right after the genocide ended to help round up and capture the "killers."  He was 16, but says he was very skinny and looked more like a 12 year old. He currently works for USAID and is an Embassy employee.  He leads congressional delegations through the memorial.

Where to begin???  When Katie told me that we should go to Rwanda, because she has work and colleagues here, rather than Tanzania (her favorite place ever), all I could think was, "the one with the genocide?" I knew it was several years ago, but is it safe there?  Will my kids be safe?  We didn't tell our kids about the genocide prior to coming and I realized on Saturday morning we had only told them that we were going to the genocide memorial that afternoon, but not anything about the subject matter.  I realized the error of my ways and sat them all down to give them a brief overview of what they are likely to encounter at the museum.  

Here is what I told them...basically.

Around 1990 there was a civil war that ended in the fall of 1993 when the President of Rwanda signed a peace accord (Arusha Accords).  This war was between the Rwandan Patriotic Front and the Hutu government.  The RPF was a Tutsi refugee group based in Uganda.  When they attacked the northern area of Rwanda, it kicked off the civil war.  This was not the genocide, but it did put Hutus vs Tutsis in military conflict.  There was relative peace for a few months and then the president was assassinated on April 6th and the genocide began on the 7th.  Hutus targeted and killed the top Tutsi leaders first and then went village by village trying to kill as many Tutsis as possible.  They killed at least half a million people in just a few weeks (as many as 1 million in 100 days).  Neighbors turned on neighbors and murdered them with machetes because they belonged to a different ethnic group.  

The RPF re-engaged and took over the whole country.  Hutus fled to Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of Congo) and the Tutsis created a new government with a new constitution and elected a new president.  Four years later their Vice President became president and he's been in charge since 2000.  It has been a peaceful 23 years and they have laws against genocidal ideation, many memorials about the tragedy, and they've worked really hard as a community on truth and reconciliation after the trauma.

Okay.  Ready to visit the memorial and get more, better information.  Boy did we.

First, back in the early 1900s Tutsi and Hutu was more of a class system.  If you owned enough cows, you were Tutsi.  If you lost your cows, you became Hutu.  It was fluid and it had NOTHING to do with ethnicity, religion, geography, or history.  When the Germans came to colonize (followed quickly by the Belgians), they brought modern medicine, improved infrastructure, taxes, and racism.  It was too confusing that Tutsis and Hutus could just change like a sneetch on a beach.  This didn't work for the Germans, so they gave everyone identification cards and three names were printed on each card, "Matutsi," "Mahutu," and "Matwa."  Two of those would be crossed off, leaving you with your identity.  (this is an important distinction according to Joseph, because it actually created this sense that you were defined less for what you were and more for what you weren't.  You weren't so much a Hutu as you were NOT a Tutsi or a Twa.  I guess the thing is that Tutsis, for instance, didn't have a unique identity or culture, so the only thing that defined them was that the weren't Hutu.  Strange)

This permanent distinction was passed on to the next generation, like a right or a real identity.  For the first time ever, you were born a Tutsi or a Hutu.  Thus became the division in Rwanda.  It was entirely created by the Germans to classify something that never asked to be classified.

The Tutsis were given the right to own land and be educated and rule the government.  The Hutus were not.  Twas were mostly forest dwellers living near the great lakes of Rwanda and were the "forgotten group" of the genocide.  (fast forwarding, 1/3 of the Twas were killed during the genocide).

After Germany lost The war, the Belgians took over and they were not any better.  The French stepped in eventually and they were way too cozy with the Hutu government.  (yes, I skipped the part when the populist Hutu group gained power and pushed the "elite" Tutsis out.  I missed a chapter)

For years the Hutu government put out propaganda painting the Tutsis as dishonest, terrible people (think Jews in Germany) and created the 10 Hutu commandments that read mostly as, thou shalt not do anything with a Tutsi.  Do not marry one, do not employ one, do not start a business with one, do not trust one, definitely do not go on one of those ropes courses where you learn how to help each other while laughing and struggling to accomplished a shared goal.  If you do any of these things, you are a traitor.  (fast forwarding again, Hutus that didn't follow the 10 commandments were the first to die in the genocide)

On April 6th, the president was assassinated, not by the RPF, but by his own people who didn't think he was harsh enough.  They immediately went to the home of the Tutsi prime minister and murdered her.  That death was the first of many planned killings.  There was a well organized list of top targets to take out first.

The next target was the military aged Tutsi men.  Village by village, trucks of Hutu militia would come in, chase down, and slaughter any Tutsi men they could find.  If they had time, they would rape the women and mutilate their bodies so that they couldn't make more Tutsi children.  HIV positive men were particularly involved in the rapes as a means of eradication.  Children were murdered, but they weren't a target yet, because this was not a chaotic war, this was a calculated eradication of a people.  Kill the men, eliminate the creation of new Tutsis, and then finish up by killing all the children.

The most troubling moment of our tour was the children's wing.  I literally had hope that it was an area more appropriate for my kids, because the entry said "Children's Room" and the walls were painted pink.  There were sweet pictures of kids and a plaque below that said something like this, "Favorite Food: Chips, Favorite Drink: Milk, Favorite Friend: Mum, Behavior: Gregarious, Cause of Death: Stabbed in the eyes and head." Picture after picture with plaque after plaque.  I forced myself to 1) look at the picture for a bit, 2) read about the child, 3) read about their horrific end.  I skipped to the end on the second plaque and felt like I hadn't paid that sweet soul the justice of getting to know them first.  So, I was disciplined the rest of the time.  "Sweet image of little siblings, favorite food was ice cream, daddy's little girl and mamma's boy, burned alive in a church." As you exit that room, there are councilors and a "peace room."  I nearly went in, but felt that my 5 minutes of suffering didn't rise to the level of deserving resources.  What a fucking awful "Children's Room." 

The best chance for survival was to go out on your own.  As people would evacuate and regroup at churches and stadiums, those large gatherings served as easy targets for major massacres.  

At one school the "killers" came to the classroom and asked for all the Tutsi children.  The kids of this school locked arms and said, "we're all Rwandans here."  They sacrificed their own lives by refusing to give up their Tutsi classmates.  They are some of the Rwandans that are honored every year on Heroes Day, February 1st.

After the RPF won the war, many Hutu Militia fled to the DRC, but hundreds of thousands of them were arrested and put in jail.  Processing these cases in the courts was slow and it was clear that people would not see their day in court for a century at the given pace.  So Gacaca were created.  They were community courts where perpetrators faced their accusers in public and confessed to their actions.  If they were remorseful, and gave information about who they killed, where the bodies were, and gave other helpful information, their prison sentences were reduced.  Many were given 15-30 years in prison.  According to Joseph, it was important to get through this process because the prisons were too full and it was very costly to be housing and feeding 150,000 prisoners for the next 80 years.  Many of the killers were given 15 year sentences and 15 years of community service afterwards.  It's been 29 years.

I know you could all read a better, more accurate article about the Rwandan genocide, but now you know what I know, from Joseph's mouth.  If you'd like to get better information, you should go to a library.

In retrospect, I think we did the right thing by not telling our children about the genocide leading up to the trip.  Lexi is traumatized from the experience and understands that the "killers" are back in the community now.  That is terrifying, in some respects, but it also points to the thing I knew about Rwanda before I came.  They have dealt with their past.  They have faced each other and have found the other side.  This community is very peaceful and very safe.  Our kids should feel free to play in the street with the other children and to walk to the store for food.  They should not be afraid of the young man walking to work with his machete, because his job is to cut banana bunches off of trees.  Ephraim cuts the grass with a machete.  I'm curious, after Saturday, will they have the same visceral reaction to that weapon as I do?  

It's important that we learn about the genocide and that our kids are exposed to the truths in our societies.  In the museum, they have an art installation.  The first set of figures represent division, the second set is conflict, the third set is the aftermath/consequences, and the fourth is peace.  But, they're in a circle.  It goes round and round and round.  Joseph said he was very unhappy that they made it into a circle, but now admits that it's probably more accurate.  We rarely avoid repeating our past mistakes.  The conflict in the DRC is quite troubling to Joseph.  I am only now becoming more aware of it myself.  It's 102 miles away, so I probably should stay up to date.

Love you all.  Soon I will post about "Rwandan Time," which is better than genocide.

Thanks to Joseph for the great tour. 

kwibuka = remember

Caleb's Log v.6

Language!

So, first, a few facts.  Rwanda has a long, complicated history of different white people coming to town to "help" or rule or whatever.  When we were planning our trip for Tanzania, we were learning Swahili, but also knew that English was pretty universal, at least with anyone that had been through the school system.  When we switched to Rwanda, we knew two things, the official language is French and the local language is Kinyarwanda.  Duolingo does not have a Kinyarwanda lesson, so we studied some French in preparation.  Luckily Katie is fluent from her year abroad in Aix-en-Provence.  

So, we knew that Katie could get us through anything while we all tried to learn French and pick up a little Kinyarwanda.  Lexi and Athena take French and Kynarwanda at school.  (Mazie is continuing her Spanish education as an independent study, but also takes Kinyarwanda)

But, here's the thing.  We were wrong.  Sort of.  In 2006 the Rwandan government changed the official language from French to English.  So 16 (it's 2023????) 17 years ago they just announced, "Stop using French, start using English."

Can you imagine???  All of the elites in Kigali (educated and successful people) were French speaking and suddenly they were forced to communicate in English.  Professors who were fantastic lecturers had to deliver their lessons in English.  Bankers and lawyers had to draw up contracts in a new language. I can't imagine how strange and frustrating those first few years must have been.

Now there is a bit of an age divide.  Most 40+ year old, educated Rwandans speak French fluently and most younger Rwandans don't.  All the official signage is in English, which helps us but was totally unexpected.

For the uneducated population (I keep using the terms educated and now uneducated.  It feels dirty.  I just mean that they didn't go through the formal school system long enough to learn the foreign, yet official, language of the government) there wasn't much change.  Everyone speaks Kinyarwanda in the home and when they are in the city, the signs are in a language that they don't understand.  That's the thing that really gets me.  EVERYONE here speaks Kinyarwanda, yet EVERYTHING is written in English.  Yes, no exceptions.  It is pretty messed up that when our house worker, Ephriam, walks through his own neighborhood, he can't read the signs.

Language is so interesting, isn't it?  A whole code for a group of people.  The sounds are similar and yet every word is different and when two locals talk to each other, I'm like a 1 year old, trying to read body language and take some guesses at what they might be talking about.  I can't participate, I cry a lot, I have trouble walking, and I just want someone to hold me...or feed me.

We've picked up on lots of transitional phrases...things we say as we come and go.  Here is your lesson.

In the morning as we walk around or arrive somewhere we can say "mwaramutse," which means "good morning."  The start is that Mwa sound that we don't typically make in the US, where you put two consonants together like Nyugen or Mbappe.  It takes a little getting used to.  The whole word goes like this, mwa-rah-MOOTs-ay.  They say it back to us and we all smile.  

Language unlocks kindness. 

Sometimes they say "Amakuro," which means "how are you?"  It's pronounced ahma-KOO-row.  If they say that, you have to think quickly and remember how to say "I'm good."  It's not Byiza. That's like "I taste good."  Or maybe, "I'm a good person."  That is a bad response to "how are you?"  Instead you say "ni meza," pronounced Knee MAY-zah.  They really like it when you say that.  I asked my friend Audry if there is another response, like "okay" or "amazing" or "not great" but there isn't.  The only response to "how are you doing?" is "I'm fine."

In the afternoon you switch to "Mwiriwe," which is pronounced mwee-re-way, but the r is kind of like that spanish r that sounds like a d.  You try!  It means "good afternoon."

We say thank you all the time.  That's "murakoze," pronounced moor-ah-COH-zay.  The only response to murakoze seems to be murakoze.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Oh, thank you.  No, thank you. No, no, thank you.  

Thank you for serving me food. 

Thank you for coming. 

Thank you for welcoming me. 

Thank you for being so kind.

Can I go?  

Yes.

So, when you leave, you have two choices.  If the sun is still up, you say, "have a good day," "Umunsi Mwisa."  Poorly pronounced as, ah-MOON-see MEE-zah.  I guess I should be adding the subtle mw sound, but I'm not yet.  If it's dark out, you say "ijoro ryiza," pronounced E-joro gee-zah.

Okay, I'm getting really annoyed that I don't actually know how to do phonetic spelling correctly.  That J is the J in soup de jour.  How do you indicate that?  And the gee is like a martial arts robe, you know, a gi.  I'm going to have to switch to a video blog.  Do people still call them vlogs or is that dead?

I digress.  

Yego (YAY-go) = Yes.    

Oye (OY-yay) = No.  

Byiza (be-ee-zah) = it's good or it's nice. 

Nawe (GNAW-way) = and you? (Amakuro?  Ni meza, nawe?)

Angahe (ON-guy) = how much does it cost? 

So, we can say hi, thank people, and say goodbye. Beyond that, we can not say anything.  I guess we can say "how are you?" and respond to that question.  That's been fun.

Luckily everyone in the service industry speaks English.  Every now and then, Katie busts out French and off we go in full "local" language conversation that I can pick up 10% of.

Oh, I played soccer/futbol on Wednesday night (blog post definitely coming) and I learned two phrases that I almost never used.  Tuze (two-zah) and Ndi Hano (de hah-no) which mean "relax" or "calm" and "I'm here."

Ndagakunda!

PS (because I don't like changing what I've already written.  Stream of consciousness!)

Google translate is so frustrating.  If you type in "I'm good" it translates as "Ndi mwiza."  If you swap directions, it translates "Ndi mwiza" to "I am beautiful."  That means I'm asking google translate to tell me how to say "I'm good," and by its own admission, it's spitting out "I'm beautiful." One cannot learn on the internet.  Full stop.

Alexa Dickinson is 8!

Lexi (Alexa as she is known professionally) turned 8 today and WOW what a day she had. 

7 AM: Birthday Zoom with family (Dickinson and Hansen sides).

8 AM: Off to school.

Daytime: Class field trip to a food factory.  Lexi gives the experience a "meh" overall but reports having 2 cups of ice cream.

3:20 PM: FULL ON BIRTHDAY PARTY in class at school.  Caleb and I brought in 24 cupcakes & 24 juice boxes.  Classmates all made cards and brought small gifts for her.  Two girls and then two boys were called up to give speeches in honor of the occasion, followed by some remarks by two of her teachers.  A dance party ensued.  It was a WHOLE THING.

4:10 PM: Headed over to Question Coffee.

4:15 PM: Birthday Zoom with friends. 

 

4:30-6:00 PM:  Hanging out at Question, bday video call with Jane, waiting for Lexi's favorite Q Coffee employee (Kevine) to arrive for a surprise party she schemed with us to arrange (on her day off).  Originally planned for 4ish but (Rwanda time - Caleb will definitely take this up in a future log) actually happened around 6.  Worth the wait. 

6:30 PM: Headed home, breakfast for dinner (pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs).  After the ice cream + cupcakes + sugary Q Coffee drink + cake, my child with the biggest sweet tooth in the world voluntarily passed on the maple syrup.  

9ish: Off to bed, exhausted and well celebrated.

Caleb's Log v.5

It's been a few days since I wrote anything (I wrote this 6 days ago...so...it's been even longer).  We had our first weekend and it was lovely.  We met several local people that Katie was put into contact with, thanks to her connections.  It was a fun and informative weekend.  I'm starting to grow a long list of things I want to talk about, so I guess I have material for several more posts.

Golf

Labor force and the living wage

Futbol

People we've met

The language

Adjusting (or not) to the ever-present time difference

Death of a fish

Security

Blackouts

Government structure.

I think today I'll talk about the haves and have-nots.  It will involve several of the ideas above. :)

Our whole family had a lovely lunch at Lambert's house with his good friend, John.  Lambert is Katie's colleague who runs the Bridges to Prosperity project.  John is an economics guy.  (can't remember if he teaches or what).  While he gave us a lesson on the local economy, our delicious meal was prepared by Lambert's house helper.  (I don't know their titles, actually)  He is in charge of the landscaping of the home, security, house cleaning, and apparently cooking.  Lambert pays him 50,000 RWF per month, which equates to roughly $45 USD.  According to John, this is right about at the poverty line.  I believe it was 1.20 USD per day.  So, Lambert's house helper makes enough to be just above the poverty line EXCEPT, he has no bills.  No rent, no food, no utilities.  So, he gets to save nearly every penny he makes.  I think he buys his own clothes, but certainly not cleaning supplies or food.  So, he's pretty well off.  This job is highly sought after by people without formal education.

The caddy that walked with me last week, Moses, makes 7,000RWF per round and he usually gets 1 or 2 rounds per day.  That's roughly 300k per month, which puts him well above the poverty line.  This was interesting news to learn, since a week earlier I thought, "how does this guy live off of $7.00 a day?"  Food is cheap (if you buy it in little shacks or markets around town, not the grocery store), transportation is cheap, (you can walk everywhere or take very inexpensive motorcycle taxis), housing is cheap, ($30/month).  So, I guess one can sort of get by.  

THIS IS HOW 70% OF RWANDANS LIVE.  70% are at or below the poverty line of 40k RWF per month.  However, I write this as I sit at Question Coffee that charges 3,500 for an  Americano.  We're renting our place (4bed, 2bath) for 1,700,000RWF a month.  Golf costs $100USD per round (I bought a membership, so I get unlimited "free" golf).  We went to a fancy dinner at Meza Molango and it was $315USD for the two of us.  (most expensive dinner I've ever had...in my life).

So how is it possible that I can sit at a 6-star restaurant, while being served by people who make 10 times the poverty line, while I look out onto a hill that has lost power for 45 minutes, whose residents make $1.00/day?  The disparity between those who have and those who don't is staggering.  There are nice cars here that cost as much as they do in the US.  So there are people who live here that can afford a 45k car and others that make $600/yr.  No one is homeless though.  (Or at least I haven't seen people sleeping on the streets or begging for money)

I don't really get it.  It is a society of two totally different worlds.  I'm not sure how to walk between them, especially when you add on our foreign status and our skin color.  I will say that it seems so normal here that the resentment is not palpable.  I cannot palp it.  When we pull our rental car into the gate of our nice home, no one seems to be bothered by that, even while they clean their clothes by hand and dry their socks on our patch of grass that is outside the gate.  I can't know what anyone is thinking, but I don't get the impression that there is a class war.

I guess one thing is that mansions with gates and servants are 20 feet from huts with no doors.  I haven't quite found a slum yet, where there are no gated homes with landscaped yards.  I've got some more learning to do, but I'm very confused right now.  

This post was not funny.  I am still funny.  At least I didn't talk about the death we saw on Saturday.  You're welcome.

A Rough Night

We knew there would be more ups and downs on this adventure.  Last night was a down.  Over the past week or so we've been noticing a burning smell (like rubber/electrical burning) in our living room.  Not great.  We unplugged our power strip and kept looking around for the source of the smell... it would go away, and then come back, usually in the evenings.  Last night after dinner it came back very strong.  Ephrem came in to investigate and found the issue: a faulty electrical box up in the corner of the room.  (Note the singed wires on the bottom.)

We shut it off, which cut the power to the whole house.  It was about 8:30 pm.  Mazie was mid-way through blow-drying her hair and pleaded with us to turn the power back on for 20 more minutes so she could finish.  We didn't do that.  Lexi finished her homework by flashlight and then we all went to bad.  Except the problem was we were back to night one: no fans + no plug-in mosquito repellent = hot and lots of mosquitoes.  Lexi wound up back in our room so Caleb moved to hers.  Then Athena came in (covered in mosquito bites) so I covered her in bug spray and moved to her room, where I slept on and off all night swatting the mosquitoes buzzing in my ears and willing our anti-malarial meds to do their job.  

The electrician showed up at 8 this morning.  Took a look at it and then Ephrem used the Kinyarwanda-English translation app on my phone to tell me this:

We took that to mean that he's getting the right parts and will fix it... soon?  Caleb and I decided to walk up to Question Coffee, where we're sitting and working now.  Hoping it will be fixed when we get back. Not sure how patient we need to be.

Before this issue, we had decided early last week that we're going to move houses.  I started looking for other places after our first rough night, but then we worked out the main kinks and have been pretty happy where we are.  But the owner of one of the places I was looking at reached out and invited us to come look at her place, and Caleb and I went over there last Monday.  It's got a couple of key advantages over where we are now.  The house itself is a little bigger (bigger kitchen, a little more separated living space), it's got desks in two bedrooms that Caleb and I will be able to use for evening meetings, and it's got a really nice outdoor yard with more space for the kids to play, fruit trees, vegetable gardens.... Overall just a little nicer.  Location-wise, it's a similar distance to the kids' school, but the route is mostly along a paved sidewalk (vs our current route along dirt roads), which will be especially nice as it gets rainier.  The neighborhood itself is also more lively, with people out & about along the street and a main road with lots of shops very close by.  (This is a pro and a con... the quiet of our current neighborhood has its advantages.)  It was a tough decision and the kids had mixed feelings about moving (we've been putting them through a lot of transitions), but we ultimately decided to do it at the end of the month.  So that's coming up this weekend.  The owner has been really friendly and responsive and says we can move earlier if we want, so if this electrical issue doesn't get sorted we may jump ship early... Caleb and I both have busy work weeks so it would not be convenient to throw moving into the mix, but it also won't work to have another night like last one.  Ergh.  Stay tuned.

Update: old box has been replaced with this more confidence-inspiring one. Some iffy looking wires remain. Power & internet are back, fans are running, mosquito repellent is fired up. Things are looking up again! Barring other setbacks, we'll wait and move over the weekend.

Two Weeks

It's Saturday again which means it's been two weeks since we got here.  It feels like a lot longer and it's also gone by quickly... time warping in the way it does when every day is different and we're still constantly learning and adjusting and trying to find routines where we can.  The walk to school and back has been one of the most stable and consistent parts of our weekdays, and school in general has given the kids a lot of structure, though their schedules vary day to day (and even include some big field trips... more on that later).  We go to Question Coffee nearly daily (sometimes multiple times a day, with and without kids).  We know where to get the main things we need (though we're still learning about new spots, including the enormous Kimironko Market we went to today... more on that later too).  So we're settled in in some ways, but still settling in many others.  

Some new things this week.  The kids started some after school activities.  Lexi had gymnastics on Tuesday, and said it mostly went well.  Athena thought she had table tennis on Tuesday but when she showed up they told her it was on Thursday, which is when she was signed up to have football (soccer).  She tried to go to football on Thursday and couldn't figure out where that was meeting, so went to table tennis instead.  We think she can do football on Monday.  Mazie also signed up to play football but that hasn't started yet.  We think she might have a game this coming Friday.  Her big event this week was a field trip to Akagera National Park, where she saw elephants and giraffes and zebras and even more excitingly GOT TO CREATE HER FIRST INSTAGRAM POST.  

We'd been holding out on letting her get IG but gave in when she convinced us that she needed it to communicate with her new friends she's made here.  She's clever, that one.  

I had a field trip this week too.  On Thursday I went with Lambert and some of his colleagues to Muhanga District, about an hour southwest of Kigali.  Their team is starting a new project distributing water filters to schools around the country.  The project is being financed through carbon credits, with the rationale being that filtering water to make it drinkable is a substitute for boiling it, and thus avoids carbon emissions from the fuels that would be used for boiling.  The purpose of this trip was to visit a couple of schools to test out the setup and see whether there was sufficient water pressure at the taps for the filter system to function.  The first school we visited was a public Catholic school (K-12 I think), near the main road and a small town.  The filter setup took a while - it was the first one they had done and they had to make a couple of runs to town to get all the right parts.  Meanwhile, we had lots of time standing in the sun and chatting with the dean of the school, who was very excited about having the filter.  I also got to be a big attraction for the kids, who were curious about the muzungu (white person) and crowded around me to observe and touch (I firmly asked them not to touch) and practice their English (How are you?  What is your name?).  I also enjoyed seeing the school buildings (I love seeing the educational paintings on the walls), and watching their lunch routine (kids were in charge of carrying large bowls of a maize porridge and beans up the hill from the kitchen to the cafeteria... one poor kid tripped and spilled his bucket of beans).  

In the end, they got it all set up and the water pressure was good.  They took it apart and will bring the keeper back in a few weeks.

We then drove to another school that was down in a beautiful valley off the main road.  I was even MORE of a novelty there ("Please don't touch me") and the attempts to connect the filter there were observed by a big group of kids.  Unfortunately that school's system was supplied by a large rainwater tank and the water pressure wasn't good enough for the filter to work.  Lambert mentioned a potential fix, but said it's quite expensive.  We packed up again and drove back to Kigali

Today's family field trip was to Kimironko Market, accompanied by our friend Gisele.  As I anticipated, it was a large and overwhelming place... packed with vendors selling fruits and veggies and beans and household goods and hardware and souvenirs and clothes.  Gisele was a huge help, bringing us to her preferred vendors and helping us navigate and translate.  We bought black beans, ALL the fruit (two types of passionfruit, bananas, mangoes), cauliflower and bell peppers and hot peppers and onions and tomatoes, a rechargeable lantern (for the frequent power outages we've been having), and a decorative walking stick with gorillas on it.  (Back home, we have a joke every time we're going to Costco - Caleb will tell me to get some walking sticks, meaning "pick up whatever random thing they're selling that we don't really need."  I realized after we left that he ended up walking out of the Costco of Kigali with... a walking stick.)  We did not manage to find a small digital clock, which is something Athena has been wanting for her bedside table.  Sometimes even Costco doesn't have what you're looking for.

My other big adventure this week was taking a moto-taxi for the first time... I'll put that in a separate post, since I've also been meaning to answer Papa's curious question about bikes and how people get around.

Weekend Activities

Weekdays are for working & going to school, weekends are for exploring and connecting!

On Saturday we drove south of Kigali to La Palisse hotel in Nyamata, where we met my colleague Lambert to swim at the very large and beautiful pool.  The water wasn't too warm and the kids didn't stay in long, but I swam some laps and we all hung out for a while waiting for food we ordered.  We're learning to expect things to take a little while. :)  

After swimming, we went to Lambert's house (a few kilometers from the hotel, back towards Kigali) where we ate a very yummy meal (beef, potatoes, and peas) and watched a Premier League soccer/football match.  

The main roads here are very nice - this is heading back into Kigali.  Large sidewalks/footpaths along the road.

We then came home and rested for a bit, and then Caleb and I went out to a very, very nice restaurant called Meza Malonga that's just up the hill from our house.  Some of the most beautifully presented and most creative food I've had (outside of Ty's restaurants, of course), highlighting ingredients and flavors from across Africa.  Meanwhile, it was POURING rain and the kids lost power back at the house, so while we were having a world-class meal they were eating mac & cheese (from our small ration we brought with us) in the dark.  An effective lesson in haves & have-nots.

Photos of our 11-course meal - we didn't even get a menu, they just brought out the courses. I did ask the chef-owner to send us the menu, so if I get it I can update with item descriptions.

  

 

This sorbet course served with dry ice kinda stole the show.

Sunday morning we slept in a bit and had breakfast at home, and then had Ildephonse over to our house for coffee.  My godmother, Jean, worked here in Kigali for USAID for several years, and she introduced me to Ildephonse, who runs a radio station in the northeast part of the country.  We had coffee and chatted with him for a while on our porch, getting a detailed and very helpful lesson in Rwandan government structure.  Caleb took notes and can provide more details.  

In the afternoon Caleb and I walked to our nearest shopping area, about a 20 min walk, and got supplies for the week.  Then we drove over to the area near the kids school to meet up with Gisele and her kids, Liz (6) and Nolan (5).  Gisele's close friend is married to Didier, a Rwandan who went to CU for grad school and worked on the Ghana cookstove projects with me.  Our plan was to take the kids to a nearby park, but it was raining again (it's been doing that a lot) so we went to a coffee shop in the MTN center (a small shopping mall) and the kids ran around up there.  Gisele works for an organization that supports women coffee growers and horticulturalists, so we chatted about her work and also got some advice on where to shop in town - next weekend she's going to take us to the Kimironko Market.  

 This evening we'll have dinner at home (spaghetti) and Zoom with the Dickinson family, and then it's time to get ready for our second school/work week!  Caleb and I will both be ramping up our work, including lots of evening meetings, so that will be another adjustment.  I'm also going to go to Lambert's office a couple of days, and may go with him to visit a school where they're testing out a new water filtration system.  So much to learn about...

Lambert's office is in the Silverback Mall