Wed. July 8 We slept hard, for a good 10 hours and still we were up at 7am. That’s the joy of crossing time zones. I’m praying for a good recovery when we return to Spokane. We have pillows! And towels and mosquito nets and cab fare until be can exchange money and well, great hospitality. Honoline has been so good to us so I’m glad we didn’t cut our trip here short.
This morning Clemens, a friend and choir kid from 14, showed us around the town while Honoline was at work. Clemens is in P6 and hoping to study law in University. I told her I would get her To Kill A Mockingbird Bird since she not only likes to read but wants to be a lawyer of integrity and character. She was great all day, interpreting, getting us good deals, and keeping us safe while not being over-protective. It’s a great skill to be a hostess and tour guide so I’m grateful for her patience.
We started our tour at the orphanage. Gisimba Children’s Orphange opened in 1950s and remains in the family as Papa Damas took over his father’s work. This is the place where all of the ACC kids from Rwanda are found and also a great shelter as Papa Damas was instrumental in saving hundreds of children during the genocide. The place is quite clean and has a good amount of land considering it’s in the middle of the city. There’s enough room for a soccer pitch and 6 dormitories. Such buildings are labeled Dorm of Hope, Dorm of Prosperity and my favorite, Dorm of Smart Boys. The orphanage houses 125 kids, sometimes more and sometimes less but the kids can be there until they’re 20ish yrs old. We had delivered our bag of clothes to them yesterday so we went back to connect with kids.
It was kind of strange since I’m sure they have muzungus come in all the time and larger groups of us draw larger crowds. Even still we played Frisbee with some and I spent a good hour or so talking to a boy in sign language. Salehe is 17 and expresses himself through eyebrows, sign language and drawing pictures in the sand, the last being the most impressive and helpful form of communication. Theophil was there to help interpret for both of us as he spoke enough English for me to ask questions and enough ASL to clarify when pictures or facials expressions didn’t quite convey the message. We talked about soccer, the Brazilian team, Rodolfo, and his likes such as soccer, running and biking. We have a lot in common. He taught me words in ASL like to teach, fly, umuzungu and umwirabara (black person). While this testimony seems to describe a quaint conversation, it was anything but. We enjoyed talking but sometimes the subject or a simple sentence took 15 minutes and dirty, sandy hands to convey and understand. We left with a picture and I took away lots of hope and possibility for the kids there. I don’t know much about the place though I can find out more online, but the programs and seemingly well-executed administration confirmed this feeling.
Shopping was next on the agenda so we went into town more to Nakumart. This is the Wal-Mart of Rwanda. No, it doesn’t take 5 cit blocks but it sells a little bit of everything from flat screen TVs and clothes to mushrooms and foil. Running on low blood sugar, I grabbed a lemon Fanta for the road. Man alive it was refreshing a rejuvenating, just what I needed before craft shopping at the Simba shops and attending the Genocide Memorial. The craft shops and employees were not as insistent as the ones at the equator, but they sold pretty much the same wares. I bought some cards but otherwise looked with my eyes and not my wallet.
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