Peace Corps service as prophesized in the 1800s

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity… we had everything before us…”

I’m pretty sure that Charles Dickens had Peace Corps service in mind, and maybe even PC service in Rwanda specifically when he wrote those lines in A Tale of Two Cities. So much of this roller coaster, this tragic romance novel with a happy ending, this attempt at understanding bipolar disorder, this unstable stock-market representation graph, this ultimately positive experience, is immensely up and down. It’s probably not for the faint of heart. This is not to say (disclaimer) that I am unhappy or struggling. Surprisingly, currently I am overwhelmingly happy and more confident than ever in having made this decision for my life. Weird how that happens right?

So, two weeks have gone by since last we met via my words and your interest in reading them, and life has continued non-stop. I went to yet another wedding, but this was the first one in which I was really friends with the bride or groom. All of the other weddings have been of co-workers, but the bride in this wedding is essentially my older Rwandan sister. So we awoke early on Saturday, March 17th and arrived at the wedding site in Kamonyi. Arms linked with my sisters, we traveled atop a hill overlooking what was once my Rwandan home and were greeted amidst the trees to brightly decorated pink and blue tents that were to be the place of the traditional wedding ceremony. In case you remember back to a posting, WAY BACK, when I was still in training about destroying stumps with garden hoes… this would be the same place.

Nine AM turned into 11 AM, with a bustle and hectic feel as the bride arrived from the civil ceremony (in front of local authorities) and attempted to change into outfit number two for the day. Her bridesmaids also had multiple outfits, as did her ladies in waiting. Finally they approached the tents, and the groom, who had just as large of entourage, greeted her. This was preceded by a seemingly endless amount of speeches by the father of the groom, and one of the adopted “father’s” of the bride. (Jenn’s biological father was killed in the 1994 Genocide). As we waited, it was really nice to see the faces of many an old friend, and again (if I have not mentioned this enough before) be able to communicate with them, almost fluently.

Food was distributed and speeches were made, although I can’t say that I truly paid too much attention as I was very much distracted by the bride in her neon pink dress with blue polka-dotted lace streaming from her hair and wrapped around the bottom of the dress like a mermaid tail. This ceremony was followed by another long wardrobe change as Jenn switched into the traditional white gown. Then we piled into little buses and headed to Kigali for the church ceremony. Fortunately this ceremony was particularly brief, as I have been in ones that have gone on for hours, and at this point, we were closing in on hour number eight. It was super hot in Kigali as well, which never seems to go away.

After the church ceremony, there was the reception. I finally received my first piece of wedding cake in Rwanda, and it was AMAZING! Whew… ten months without cake! Haha. We were also serenaded by a band singing, “We wish you a happy family” to the tune of “Happy Birthday.” Then we walked to the post-reception party at the new husband and wife’s house. Thankfully they fed us again here! People often ask me, when I get married, if I will have a Rwandan wedding. I have many qualms with this personally due to my beliefs and otherwise, but largely, I have no desire to sit through my own wedding if it’s 13 hours, and I’m pretty sure that many other people would feel the same way. I was honored (as a “member” of the family) with being the “holder of the gourd.” This is the first thing that enters the house of the new couple as a symbol of their future. It was really quite an honor, and, in spite of it being my longest wedding to date, it was also my favorite.

We made it back to my host-family’s home just before midnight. I was reminded around 9 PM of the fact it was Saint Patrick’s Day, and I have to say I was very un-Irish in not having a single drop of alcohol, but I did wear green, and it was a great celebration none-the-less. Sitting through church the next day kind of felt like I had spent my St. Paddy’s Day similar to those of previous years, but, nothing a little nap couldn’t cure.

The 18th, I headed into Kigali to help out with Operation Smile, a US organization that does surgery (for free) to fix cleft palates. They had asked Peace Corps if they could provide some volunteers to help out with entertaining and monitoring patients. So, I did that for a couple days. It was really interesting to be able to talk to people from all over Rwanda. There were a lot of mothers and their children, and a few men. We drew with chalk and crayons, and chatted and served food in the evening. Whether I was working with a really great crew of PCVs, or things were just easier those two days I was there, I’m not sure, as there seemed to be a lot of communication, logistical and comprehension problems throughout the entire ten days or so, between Operation Smile, PCVs and Rwandan counterparts. I a lot of times we weren’t quite sure what we were supposed to be doing. But, nonetheless, the experience was immensely rewarding.

Often it feels as if my service is relatively thankless. I will do a favor for a co-worker or friend, which seems to go unnoticed or followed by an observation which I can only assume is unintentionally insulting. “You are very big today Megan,” or “You are not smart today.” For some reason when complimenting how someone is dressed it is translated into “dressing smartly” so when you are not dressed well or you have a problem (shoes unwashed, too short of sleeves, etc.) it becomes, “you are not smart today.” I am aware that this is largely a cultural difference, and my perceptions of politeness and conscientiousness that do not translate well in this culture, but it is a struggle. This is summarized, I feel in the lack of the word “please” in the Kinyarwanda. Often I am told I must do something, give something, be something, without so much as asking or a “please” extended my way. I realize this has everything to do with my expectations, but again, it’s a struggle. So, being at Operation Smile and seeing tangible and immediate results (yes surgery, but also, the happiness from the people, who are obviously in recovery pain, to just sit and interact with you) was a really nice mentally clarifying experience.

Finally after a meetings with PC staff, I arrived back at my site after seven days of absence. I was immediately confronted by my struggling housing situation, which wiped me out almost instantly, that and all the travel. Unfortunately and fortunately I left again the next day for a weekend of Peace Corps stuff and some good volunteer time. The health 2 group has finished their two year stint as PCVs, which is awesome and sad, because they are such a great group of people. So, we had one last hurrah, so to speak. Friday, I helped Sally and Ryan (two H2 PCVs) along with some others, put the finishing touches on the world map they painted on a wall of a community library that Ryan helped build in the community. It turned out amazingly! Afterwards we went out for akabenz, pork that you order by the kilo, and a couple brews.

Saturday was spent in meetings and eating muzungu food. We had a multi-region meeting to discuss a ton of stuff, amongst a group of around maybe 25 PCVs. Three hours later, we adjourned the meeting, all a little bit more ready to face Genocide Memorial Week, plan future camps GLOW and BE, and with understanding of Peace Corps committees and functions. Unfortunately and fortunately it was too late to catch a bus back home. I was dreaming of my bed, my room, my house back at site, but I did have lots of fun at yet another Pork Place filled with new PCV friends, discussions, and later, dancing. I can’t say it wasn’t amazing to be back home on Sunday, although I need to clean my room, and it’s unclear whether this particular house will continue being my home, but tuzareba, we will see.

Life really is quite good and my world is moving forward, changing, not changing, but the world turns on, and me with it. Projects are moving forward alarmingly fast, yet seemingly slow. Does this represent the bi-polarness I seem to be feeling? Updates on my PC life include, the upcoming Genocide Mourning Week April 7th through the 13th, and the entire month of April is Genocide Memorial Month. My mother begins her African adventure on May 9th! Followed by my mid-service conference (PCVs have this after/around a year in service) in June. Ups and downs and greats and stress filled moments, but until we meet again, may the rains fall soft upon your fields (it is rainy season after all!) Miss you all!

Pictures: 1. The ladies in waiting at the wedding. My host sister, Aline, is the second one from the left. 2. The bride, groom, and me sandwiched between my host parents. 3.The bride and her bridesmaids (I love the maid of honor's hat!) 4.Aline, a random grandmother, me and Solange, a friend from Kamonyi. 5.Us doing a Jersey Shore fist pump in front of Sally and Ryan's world map.

Women and Walking and Walking Women

            It seems like so much has happened in the last week! I’ve gone through practically every emotion and  I’ve had several adventures, which don’t seem to be ending any time soon. I’ve gone from one of the best weeks of my service thus far, to so completely mentally exhausted I spent an entire day almost, sleeping. I discovered this really awesome walk/hike (depending on what you consider a 15 mile journey) that circled throughout almost all the cells in my sector. I’m fast learning that the furthest reaches of my community seem to often times be the friendliest. On my long journey, I discovered tea plantations being prepared, a village that had been torn down to make way for new tea plants, primary school students in a volleyball match, a beautiful river in the bottom of the valley and a path I hope to take many times more in my stint as a PCV.
  

 It is so rewarding to go outside and meet people who are simply happy to see you, they don’t outwardly want things from you, other than to simply be greeted. They don’t see you as an object or simply a white person or a rich foreigner. They treat you like a person. These are the people I found along this 22 kilometer trek, and I’m not sure I can express in words, via blog or otherwise, how truly happy this makes me feel. Unfortunately (and I’ve mentioned this before) it is more common that people see my skin color and nothing else. Not that this behavior didn’t appall me before experiencing it first hand, nor am I being degraded because of how I look, but it does come with its challenges none-the-less, and it has brought out a level on inward resigned hostility that I am not sure I have felt before.

But, day two of my adventures was International Women’s Day. I was moto’d to the ceremony with the nutritionist at my health center and the chief of women for my sector. We began by helping to build a small keyhole garden by the cell office. After the gardening we walked the three kilometers back into town with an escort of about 20 women singing as we went. Here, the ceremony was busily being prepared, chairs and benches were being brought out in the town center and the food was being prepared to distribute to malnourished children. I watched the women (babies tied to their backs) boil a mixture of sweet potatoes, beans, carrots, greens, and dried fish over a fire in a small kitchen in town. After which, they pounded the mixture into mush vaguely resembling green mashed potatoes. 

Rwandan women especially, have this amazing ability which I am constantly in awe of. They are able to bend over at a 90 degree angle and do any activity for seemingly any amount of time. I watched as these women did just this while mashing the mush, for nearly 20 minutes. But women do this in the fields for hours, washing dishes, cooking, everything. I always struggle with a squat, which after 3-5 minutes kills my knees or a feeble attempt at this 90 degree bend which threatens after only a minute or less to put my back into bed-rest spasm. So, I am impressed, in other words. 

 

 

We arrived at the ceremony just in time for its beginning with women from town dancing and singing for the audience. One of the perks of being so recognizable to people is that I often receive really great seats for various events. Often I decline and sit in back or otherwise. But for several hours, it’s very nice to have a chair with a back, and a good spot to take lots of photos. So I had the perfect viewing spot to watch these women dancing and the community cheering. After the dancing the sector and cell executives spoke, followed by more dancing and speeches by the nutritionist and chief of women.  At one point they drug me out in the middle to dance with them. I can’t dance in the States anyways, but to dance with the grace and in the style of Rwandan women is relatively impossible for me! I tried and spent most of my time laughing hysterically. After the song finished, the leader came up to me and wrapped her arms around me in the biggest hug. The whole ceremony was only interrupted briefly twice for rain, but it always resumed with the same enthusiasm.

 

After all the dancing and speeches, the food was brought out and mats were laid on the ground. Women brought their children, specifically the malnourished children, and they sat around the mat. Two women began by going around with water and a basin to wash the children’s hands, followed by plates of the nutritious mush they had cooked up. These kids ate hungrily. My heart ached while watching one little boy in rags of clothing stained reddish-brown from the dirt. He was handed a plate and the boy ate so slowly, like it was a struggle just to do so. He even looked painful in his determination and desire to eat, to not be hungry. But, in spite of overwhelming malnourishment in Rwanda, in my part of the country, the mood was still happy and joyful. Even though I didn’t have much cash to give at the time, I still contributed a little bit of money, along with my co-workers at the health center to provide this meal for these children. Overall, it was such a positive moment, being able to see even just a few children have their bellies full for even a short time.

  After the ceremony I rushed back in order to do my GLOW club. I had so much energy running through me and excitement over the positivity of this day, it was such a great conclusion to spend even an hour with the young women that comprise this club, after which, exhaustion caught up with me, but it was truly amazing and happy exhaustion. It was also one of those times that fast food sounded really appealing. Cooking a meal on a charcoal or even kerosene stove after a day like this, almost seems worth skipping the meal.

I have been aware of and have subtly participated in International Women’s Day for several years. The day definitely seemed much more empowering and inspirational to be with these Rwandan women, as well as currently being an international woman myself. It was all the more impressive that this group of people planned their whole celebration of the day. A lot of times an outsider, a foreigner, comes in and plans a celebration, but to be a part of such a successful one planned entirely by the local population was wonderful. My day even began with people wishing me a happy women’s day, which I adopted quickly and was pleasantly surprised by the universal recognition of the women in my community when I wished them “umunsi mwiza w’abagore!”

Continuing on in my journey… On Saturday I went, with my friend Kate, a fellow PCV, to visit a small community in Nyungwe National Park. There are currently two volunteers working there with a US organization called Kageno. Sarah and Jarod Ring are from Arkansas and have spent the last two years working in this small impoverished village, a 2.5 hour hike into the forest. Apparently when the park was established, all the people were somewhat forced to move to this one community. There are over 4,000 people living there, and they are the poorest of the poor in Rwanda. The community is beautiful though, and the hike in is the same. Thankfully we saw no monkeys as Sarah was saying they travel in packs sometimes around 300. You all may have been reading on the news of an American being killed by monkey swarm in Rwanda!

Sarah and Jarod were wonderful hosts, and have the most adorable house, with a yard and everything. It’s always nice to vent/talk with other volunteers about service in Rwanda. It further helps me distinguish where I have been struggling and why, and maybe more importantly how to overcome these struggles. The chocolate chip, banana pancakes were also a very welcome addition in the morning. I was so amazed coming into their village and not hearing a single “muzungu” cry from the population. If anything they called out “banyamerica” which means Americans. I kept commenting to Kate how nice it is to be out in Rwanda, hiking, walking in the forest, in a village and not treated as solely a foreigner with lots of money. This adventure as well as the last week really restored faith in this experience.

Although I went to bed early Sunday night, I was met Monday with a wave of exhaustion. This had nothing to do with hiking over the weekend and everything to do with continued housing struggles. Peace Corps has told me that my living situation must change, meaning I can no longer live with three men. I totally understand this, however, it is so tiring to think about moving. It’s hard enough finding peace of mind when you are constantly trying to integrate into a culture, but to leave my garden, my home in which I’ve bought furniture, decorated and have called “home” for the last nine months, is truly exhausting. That, coupled with my program director coming to my site to look at houses with my supervisor and I, made me cling to the covers on Monday and barely leave my bed except to do just that, look at a couple houses.

Nothing was resolved yesterday, and I find myself still very tired today in spite of the sun being out, and still feeling happy. I very much long to put a movie on on my computer and curl back up in bed. I know the end of the world is not nigh, especially due to this housing situation, but I have to admit it’s very nice to wallow in this exhaustion every now and then and recharge my batteries. With so many great things in my life recently and lots of good ones coming up, I know that I am ok and am in fact happy, genuinely happy, and feeling like myself again (which I haven’t been for a little bit). I also know that things will work out, but just for a little bit, I need a moment to breath and recover.

So, that has been my life for the last week. So much has happened and it’s been so wonderful. As my friend said this weekend, this experience is very much like having your life put in fast forward in many ways. We are forced to analyze our lives and ourselves to such an extreme extent in such a short period of time. I find myself looking at the roller coaster of emotions model and feeling like the speed has been cranked up to at least double that of normal speeds, and maybe that of safe ones too. It also seems so easy to derail. But for now, I feel more like me than I have in several months and that means that I am in fact, not about to derail. So, that’s a good thing, right!? Haha. Anyways, I miss you all so much and am still envious of the snow you are all getting back in the states. Tomorrow marks month nine at site, meaning I only have 15 left! Time is going so fast. So much love to all of you and thank you so much for being such a great support system. Until we meet again… may the winds be always at your back!

 Pictures: 1.Women dancing at opening of International women's day 2. Feeding kids 3. The kid I spoke about watching while he struggled to eat 4. After being drug out on the dance floor 5.Community kids 6. View into Nyungwe towards Lake Kivu 7. A Tree 8. A view of part of Banda village

Ramblings of a temporary Rwandan wanderer

            I often vent to my Rwandan friend Justin, about the constant attention and other small grievances that exhaust me throughout the day. The relationship is mutual, he tells me about his struggles at school and otherwise. He’s probably the most open-minded and respectful friend that I have made in my Peace Corps journey thus far. So, I was very saddened to discover in a recent conversation with him, all the hardships that have been brought on him, simply by being my friend. An 18 year-old boy who goes to school five days a week, as well as comes to my house in the morning and again in the evening to cook, clean and do the laundry of my three roommates. I am constantly amazed by the “imbaraga” or strength Rwandans seem to have. They work and work and work, cooking, cleaning, school, jobs, and they never seem to be tired. Justin is an amazing example of this.

            He does small jobs for me, to which I always overpay him, but he is not my “houseboy.” This fact seems to be overlooked by members of my community, as they all assume that he works for me, and because I am a foreigner, I must have lots of money. I’ve explained repetitively that this is not the case and if they’d like to take care of my college debt for me, or give me some money so my bank account has something substantial in it, I’d really appreciate it. To which, many often reply, “no, you lie.” A student from the secondary school decided to try out his English with me the other day. He told me he’d really like to come to America because there are no problems there, everyone has a job. It’s almost laughable to think of the USA not having any problems, or anywhere in the world for that matter, but I usually patiently try to explain some of the problems we also have. Poverty, joblessness, hunger, and domestic violence are common issues that people scoff at when I say they exist in the USA and are in fact prevalent.

            So, I am happy to overpay Justin to go buy me onions or till my garden for me, but he’s still not my “houseboy.” Some people assume as a white person, I am incapable of cooking, cleaning, etc. so I must have a “houseboy.” Having been in my community around eight months now, it was immensely disheartening to learn that merchants in town overcharge Justin whenever he goes to buy, whether for me, my roommates, his family, or himself. They tell him because he works for me, that he has lots of money. Students at school ask him constantly if he is my husband, and a group of boys he considered “friends” forced him to pay them around $5 or around half his monthly wages to get his school registration card back. I was so mad. So, because of me, he is viewed and treated differently in this community, and very much like many people towards me, they simply don’t listen, or don’t want to, when he tells them that I do not have lots of money,  nor does he.

            It was upsetting to discover that I was actually making someone’s life harder, especially such a valuable friend’s. I did not join the Peace Corps to cause problems for people, or make their lives worse, nor did I think that was a possibility. So, sitting sadly across from Justin, he looks at me and says “Ntabwo nzapfa” or “I won’t die.” It’s the closest I could get to, “I’ll survive,” an expression I taught him, which I’ve used so much throughout my life, with a deep breath and a shoulder shrug. The lesson was shared within my first months at site, when my struggles were bed bugs, cooking, mopping my room, and knowing where anything was in my community, and he quickly picked it up. He says this and we grin, and I guess it’s true. Fortunately I can help him in other ways, and hopefully in the long run I will have done more good than harm to his life and existence.

So, speaking of being a Peace Corps volunteer, I am progressing as normal at my site. My GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) club is going well and there are talks with my Rwandan counterpart there to maybe try to do a one day camp in the future in Kinyarwanda. The camps we will do again in November/December will probably be done in English, and many of the students in rural schools do not have good enough English levels for this. I am working with the nutritionist and community health supervisor to develop project ideas to do an income generating activity that also promotes nutrition. Currently we are thinking chickens and eggs as protein is the major substance people are missing. We’ve also talked about re-kindling the motivation for kitchen gardens or personal gardens. I’m toying with the possibility and more importantly plausibility to do a community garden, but it does not seem like the most applicable option for the population I serve.

            Hopefully I will also receive resources here shortly for educating the community surrounding gender based violence prevention. Other than that, there are lots of little projects going on to keep me busy. I am still able to get out into my community at least once a week to visit specific groups or villages. About 5 kilometers past the tea factory is the closest village of Uwingugu, one of the cells in my sector. I had only been there once before, but I wanted to re-establish contact. I never ceases to amaze me how much the Rwandan landscape can change pretty much overnight. It took me around two hours to reach the village and was so pleasantly surprised that people knew/remembered who I was. It’s always nice when someone who you are relatively sure you never met, turns to other people and says, “No, she is not Muzungu, she is Munezero.” Muzungu means foreigner or white person, and Munezero is my Rwandan name, meaning joy.

            In the months since I had been there, every hillside surrounding the town had been dug up and terraced. The population was in the process of planting new tea plants on the fresh-made terraces. In a place with so much rain, and therefore so much green everywhere, the dirt covered hills were shocking. Granted, the next time I go there, it will probably be flourishing with leafy tea plants. Things grow so quickly here. My garden has had its struggles, mostly due to excessive water. Many of my seeds have drowned over numerous plantings, and “the rainy season” which is pretty much “the season” at my site. But, my lettuce mix and cilantro sprouted and remained around 6-12 inches high for the 2 weeks of “the dry season”. After three or four days of rain, they are now above waist high. At least I know I can make salsa whenever I want!

             I also ventured out this last week to visit one of my favorite cooperatives. They are a (mostly) women basket weaving cooperative. Much to my pleasure they were having one of their bi-weekly meetings so I got to visit with all of them. They were working on making some grass reed mats as well, which they invited me to try out. So amidst the laughter of myself and three or four women, I tried to copy the gestures of hands that seem completely disconnected from the brain at this point as these women appeared to be able to do the necessary movements in their sleep. They are always so welcoming to me, and the women even come to the health center to visit me, which is so nice. At some point I will purchase some of their beautiful baskets.

            This cooperative is located on the edge of a village which itself is located on the edge of Nyungwe National Park. I’ve only ever been there 8 or so times in the nine months I’ve spent at my site, but rarely do I ever get called Muzungu there. Adults and children call out “Munezero” in greeting and are always wonderfully friendly. It’s fast becoming one of my favorite places to visit. This is so different than my experience going into town, where I go at least once a week to buy food, and have to pass through on my way to community health worker meetings or doing my GLOW club. It’s highly possible that I haven’t made even one trip there without being called Muzungu by someone. I have my friends, my shopkeepers, the people I go out of my way to say hi to, but there’s always someone, and often adults, not just the children that call me Muzungu. It’s not the most uplifting place to adventure to in my community. But, it’s also really nice to have friends and connections in all the places I go here.

I am never able to get in a bus without seeing a friend, or a bus-full of them. Even in Nyamagabe, an hour away, merchants at the market recognize me and greet me by name. It’s nice to not always simply be a Muzungu to people, but to be recognizable. To see the look of happiness that crosses their faces when they see me, as well as feeling my happiness by being in the company of a friend. It is a wonderful reprieve from some of the struggles I may have. As much as I’d like the ability to attain anonymity, these relationships are so helpful in maintaining mental equilibrium at least and even pushing that equilibrium to the positive side. So, we are in March. My mom comes to visit in almost exactly two months… so EXCITED! And until then, I will be keeping busy, no surprise I have a wedding appearance to be made, a hiking adventure planned, and hopefully a trip to Lake Kivu.

I am very happy to hear my brother and Kaleigh are moving to Bend, it was  a very nice place to spend part of my "growing up." I’m happy Grandpa Stan gets to hang out with his granddaughter often as well, because he’s totally head over heels for that girl! My family has been awesome about sending me pictures of them with my niece Gracie. In recent photos, I can see the kitchen and other places of my dad’s home, and it’s so weird. Seeing an “American” kitchen with tiled walls and granite countertops, cabinetry! Even though I lived there for three years, seeing those images seems almost like a foreign country to me now, especially with an adorable baby hanging out in them. I am also happy that my mom is about to set out on her adventures with her new home and a freedom I’m not sure you are granted very often in life, especially when you have children. Maybe she’ll start a blog so we can follow her adventures. Haha! It’s very empowering that my family and friends have such unique and often extraordinary lives, while I am living mine as well. I very much look forward to the day all our adventures bring us back together again! So much love to all of you. I miss you lots and tons! Until next we meet… may the road rise to meet you!

 Pictures: 1. Yet another rendition of "the view outside my house" 2. A child carrying goods home on her head 3.The tea plantations, they kind of looked like the movement of water in that picture 4. My garden (excluding the corn), and 5. A woman making a grass rug at the basket weaving cooperative

Since last we met...

I have been immensely fortunate in my life to be surrounded by amazing people, but especially amazing women. From my family, (my mother, grandmothers, aunts) to my group of women friends, I truly know incredible women. They are smart, intuitive, innovative, free-spirited, insightful, creative, unique, powerful, and life-altering (at least to my life).

Coming to Rwanda, I was dropped into a family where I now had four Rwandan sisters as well as a Rwandan host-mother. I found it easy to communicate with my sisters while I was living there, but I would sit in awkward silences across the table from my host-mother. I would point to something and fumble out “iki n’iki” which means “what is this.” She would say a word and I would struggle with saying it over and over as a way to fill these silences. I would walk out of my room unsure of cultural acceptability of my outfits and say “ntakibazo?” which means “no problem.” So this was my connection with my host mother. All I wanted, and I remember thinking to myself, all I want with my language level is to be able to have a conversation and therefore a relationship with this woman.

Mama Doka, my host-mother, got married at 17 while living in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC); her husband, Pastor Bonnke, is also Rwandan. She gave birth to her first five children in DRC before returning to Rwanda a year or two after the genocide. She speaks French, Kinyarwanda and Swahili fluently and never had much schooling, none after she got married. She is a pastor’s wife, and a Rwandan woman which means she takes care of her husband. She raises the children, she does the cooking, cleaning, laundry, everything. I’ve heard there is a saying in Rwanda, that once a man gets married he’ll never have to do his own laundry again. Her oldest child is in university in Uganda, their oldest girl just started university in December.

So, I sat across from her for ten weeks hoping to be able to have the slightest conversation other than, “what is this” again. This woman who raised seven amazing kids and had also taken in her brother’s son while I was living there. This woman who would walk to the market, returning with a large bag of produce on her head, who would farm cassava at dawn, then come home and make sure everyone was ready for school, including me. I am inspired by her, just like all those other amazing women who have helped shape who I am, how I look at the world, and what kind of woman I want to be.

Rwandans (in general) tend to have a look on their faces that I would equate to a scowl. This does not necessarily imply they’re discontent because as soon as I greet them they tip their hat and grin. I laugh regularly with Rwandans and we make jokes all the time. But many Rwandans, when taking on a face of non-expression, can appear unhappy. I received this look from my host mother a lot. In our silent breakfasts, or alone together, unable to communicate. But as my Kinyarwanda language level improved, the less I saw that face and the more I heard her laugh. Now when I talk to her on the phone, she has one of those voices you can hear the smile in.

I noticed the change in her (with me) maybe six months into being in Rwanda. I went to her 25^th wedding anniversary ceremony. I watched her, as she smiled and laughed for hours, in what was the first time I actually remembered her not seeming unhappy. As my time has continued to progress, we talk on the phone, having conversations for up to 20 minutes (which is also strange for Rwandans), they often have brief conversations in which they don’t even say goodbye at the end. A lot of times I’m never sure when a conversation is actually over until I get hung up on. This is also a common thing that we as volunteers pick up, so if I hang up on anyone without saying goodbye, I should apologize in advance! But, not to digress, I have developed a level of language that I can now communicate, really talk, with my host-mother. We laugh, and even have inside jokes now. Although I would never have chosen the life she’s led (married at 17, seven children, taking care of her husband without much of anything in return), I have so much respect for her. It was an empowering moment when I was finally able to communicate with her. It’s incredibly inspiring to know amazing women in foreign countries. I’ve worked with and heard about women doing incredible things around the world, but to actually know them and have relationships with them is very different.

So this is my tribute to my host-mother, but also to all the women in my life, friends and family, thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me, as well as how much you’ve given me without even knowing! This, of course, is not to downplay the men in my life, as I know incredible men too who have shaped and changed me for the better, who have taught me life lessons and helped make me into me. Thanks to you all as well, but I’m sorry, this particular post was dedicated to the women I know.

As for the rest of my life, not much has changed since my last post. Although it’s been almost a month, no special events or trips have occurred. Peace Corps Rwanda recently had a program review (being that it is a new program, only three years old so far since their return after the 1994 Genocide). People from Peace Corps Washington came out, amongst other PC characters. They came to my site to visit, and the fact that I’m living with three Rwandan men was revisited and brought to light, apparently. Although I voiced concerns initially, I have not actually had any problems and I’ve come to love my house, it is my Rwandan home. I have decorated the house, bought furniture, etc. On my way into Kigali the other weekend I got a call from my program director about having a meeting. Turns out, they want my housing situation to change, which I understand, but also makes me a little sad because I don’t want to leave my house. But, we will see what happens there.

As I mentioned I was in Kigali (the capital city) for a weekend and am going back this coming one for meetings. It was the mental break and rejuvenator that I needed. I was able to visit with other PCVs (volunteers), but also had access to wireless internet and got to Skype with my mom, as well as Ry, K and Gracie. It was the first time that I got to actually see my niece outside of a still picture. The baby in the picture above is my co-worker's daughter. She is about a month younger than Gracie. I got hot showers in Kigali, foreign food (by that I mean, not Rwandan) and was able to rest. My next trip will be full of meetings, but hopefully I can get some
resting done as well.

I had lunch with my site mate (Nick) the other day, who I hadn’t really spent any time with in about a month. He recently learned how to make refried beans, and the cilantro in my garden is finally big enough, so we made refried beans, tortillas and salsa. It was awesome! First salsa I have actually had in nine months!!!! Can any of you believe that? In case you didn’t know, I’m a salsa fiend! So, in other words, life is going well. The picture below is my host mother sorting beans.

I do not mean to consistently put a positive spin on my service, as I have had my share of struggles. For the last few months, I have been emotionally frustrated and exhausted. Consistently trying to be accepted into Rwandan culture, I began to feel like I wasn’t able to be myself. I got tired of being told what to do and how to do it, coupled with people, friends, believing that I couldn’t do it. Finding a “support system” here in country has been a unique experience and “fitting in” in every group I’m supposed to be a part of has appeared as a struggle before me. I recently heard (whether Peace Corps rumor mill or fact is unclear) that Rwanda is apparently a hard country to serve in emotionally, in the scheme of Peace Corps countries. Even before the genocide, there were apparently only 115-ish volunteers who finished their two year service in almost 20 years before PC withdrew in 1993. Whether these statements are true or not, they make me feel a little relieved.

Peace Corps service is not easy wherever it is done, in any of the 70+ countries world-wide that they serve. But these statements, made me feel better about my emotions in country as well as several of the volunteers I know who have gone home early since I’ve been here. I have complete respect for those people making the decision that they did, as I have learned in the nine months I’ve been here, this experience is not for everyone, and although I’m happy with my decision, and definitely want to be here, I’m still not sure if it was “the” right decision for me. I’m sure that is confusing, but I find it hard to articulate many feelings about Peace Corps to myself let alone to people who have not experienced it.

So this experience has had its ups and downs, as it’s supposed to. Not only have I learned a lot about Rwanda, Rwandan Culture, Peace Corps, and international development, I’ve learned a lot about myself, and I expect to learn lots more. How could I not, right? Although I’m not sure completely how this will shape me, I believe that I am here for the right reasons, and I’m learning the lessons that I need to. I’m nearing my tenth month in country, and am ¼ of the way through my service, leaving 1.5 years left. It helps me to think of it in months or quarters though. I have one set of six-months down and three to go. Three sets of six-months doesn’t actually seem that long. The group I came with, arrived in country with 20 people and we are officially down to 15. We are about to be the “senior” group of health volunteers as well, as the group before us finish in May. It’s almost like high school accelerated. One day you wake up and have no idea how you became an upper-classman.

I recently received packages from my mom, dad, and grandma, which was so awesome. Mac and cheese, sour gummy worms, homemade cookies! Although I am running out of room, and it will be slightly obnoxious if I do end up needing to move, these things really help to make me feel normal. It’s the same with any message of home, cards, e-mails, facebook posts. So, thank you all so much for your continued effort at communicating with me. It means a lot and brightens up my day. My wonderful friend Megan sent me to Rwanda with a gift of about ten cards with different scenarios on them. “Open this when you are feeling sick” and other such directions are written on the outsides. These combined with all the other modes of communication with home have been a mental life-saver! Thank you all so very very much! This post was unusual relative to my norm, although it still holds its randomness and general levels of stream-of-consciousness style writing. I hope it was still just as interesting. I love you all and miss you lots! Thanks for all your support and inspiration! I couldn’t do this without all of you back home!

(The first three pictures were just taken around my site, a woman bringing in her tea clippings, the main road that goes through my site and all the way to DRC, and sunflowers!)

Welcome to the jungle, and a whole new year!

It seems like it’s been a very long time since my last post. I’ve had a busy January so far, between work and other adventures. Work has been going really well. I started my GLOW club with a group of girls here at the local secondary school, to work on girls empowerment and health education. I’m really excited to be working with this particular group, as they are more likely to end up not finishing school and working as subsistence farmers or doing other local jobs than the many kids who are sent out to various boarding schools. My friend Justin is trying to go to a secondary school in the district center which would cost around 75,000 Rwandan Francs to go there each year. I was initially blown away by the cost, but after the conversion, realized that is roughly $150 US dollars. Relative to monthly income, especially for families that do have many children, this is very high. Fortunately there are many organizations that come to pay school fees for children. Justin sought out World Vision, and will maybe be leaving soon for school.

Anyways, I’ve also had several meetings with a group called Utabera Amahoro, which has the main aim of promoting peace in the community, and they are also the only group that I am aware of thus far that works to prevent Gender Based Violence (GBV) in my community. A lot of times when volunteers, maybe foreigners or even Rwandans, go in front of a group of people, introduce ourselves, talk to them about ideas you have, ask them questions, anything, the audience often just looks at us. I have had too many meetings where I’ve asked a seemingly simple question like,
do you know of cooperatives in your community, where the proverbial crickets were chirping and I stood relatively stupidly in front of a group not really sure how to proceed. My meeting with this group, and their director were not this way in the slightest and it was a major ego boost, not to mention helpful to my positivity levels.

So, these meetings were great as I was able to speak Kinyarwanda, understand them, and we communicated! My focus on Journalism and writing throughout my life, never really put into perspective the value I have on being able to communicate. Learning a new language showed me that, and although I hear the grammatical mistakes coming out of me when I speak with people, we can understand each other. So I am so happy to finally be able to do that in Kinyarwanda. That’s not to say that the GBV training I’m trying to write in Kinyarwanda is not totally kicking my butt though! We talked about what they thought the community needed to prevent GBV as well as what we can expect from each other. They said they wanted some sort of report. To which I said I could help them write it, but for me to go into people’s homes and ask them if their partner beats them, wouldn’t be very useful, because people aren’t about to tell all their problems to a foreigners. My audience paused, thought about it, and agreed that that was true.

We talked about what I am able to do and what they want from me, and I was very happy with the conversation. So it has been a great dialogue. The most recent meeting too, got me out of a day of church, which the last two times I went, went on FOREVER! Seriously. The Sunday before last. They had a visitor, but she showed up an hour and a half late. So they were about to finish when she came in and started talking. Ninety minutes later, I had had my fill. She had called Nick (my site mate) and I abazungu several times, which made me very much feel like I was a guest here and hadn’t spent the last six months of my life in this community. About every fifteen
minutes she’d mention that she was finished then just keep talking. So, I faked a phone call and left. Apparently she called me out angrily, and questioned Nick in front of the congregation if he was going to bail to. I felt a little bad, but seriously, there’s only so much I can give to that part of
integration!

Other work projects are progressing as well, although, those two are at the front of my thoughts and focus thus far. So, in other news, this past weekend we had lots of visitors. My friend Kate from my group came with her parents. Whitney and Jake also from my group came with his younger brother, and a friend of Nicks from college, all visited starting last Saturday. It was really nice to see people and be able to speak lots of English about home and other such things. We cooked dinner each night together, fajitas the first night with homemade tortillas by Nick. Night two we had salmon from Alaska courtesy of my mom, with teriyaki stir fry. We played card games and other such things. So it was a really nice break, while still being here at site.

Monday, Nick’s friend Rachel, Nick and I went hiking in Nyungwe park. On constant monkey alert, we trekked through the jungle and up a mountain. There were phenomenal views from the top, even though it was a hazy day. Apparently on clear days you can see all the way to lake Kivu. It was really beautiful though, and increased my anxiousness to hike Kilimanjaro with my dad in December! We didn’t see any monkeys, but after a somewhat tiring hike up, we discovered we had been reported to the Rwanda Development Board (RDB), and some staff came looking for the “crazy” abazungu that traveled into the park on their own. We were greeted by two displeased men in the green uniforms of RDB. One had a large rifle slung over his shoulder who scowled as he brought up the rear of our escort down the mountain.

We were later sent to the director’s office where we were informed that to enter the park we must give them money. To do this one trail would have cost us each individually $50 US dollars including park entrance fee. Maybe somewhat to my fortune, I actually didn’t have the
equivalent of $50 on me or even with me at my site currently, and it’s not like I can just write them a check. My debit cards are all locked away safely with my passports with Peace Corps, so I legitimately couldn’t pay. Fortunately the director was understanding, and since it was Nick and I, we were given a warning and sent on our ways. It’s a bummer though that we are not able to
explore the national park which is a part of our home for the next two years, without forking over obscene amounts of money. This makes me appreciate the national parks which I love so much back home, with their $25 entrance fee. I guess you have to be wealthy and not a Peace Corps volunteer, or a college-grad with lots of debt still left to pay, in order to really be able to visit the
beautiful national parks of Rwanda.

But it was worth it and I got lots of great pictures on the trip, in case I never get to do it again. I may never see Lake Kivu from the top of the hill, but it was a gorgeous hike in the land I call home for one and a half more years! I am officially ¼ of the way done with my Peace Corps service, and I have spent 8.5 months in Rwanda thus far. Time seems to be flying by. My host mother just called me, because she’s home alone, has finished her cooking and cleaning, and wanted to visit. All the kids are off at school, and for a woman who works as hard as she does all the time (I mean, she has seven children, and is required in this culture to take care of her husband) I think she’s not quite sure what to do with herself during free time. Anyways, it seems like it’s been forever since I lived with my host family, half a year ago. It’s only been a month since Nick came to site and I haven’t been the only foreigner here. He may already be stuck with my friendship far beyond Peace Corps service in Rwanda, after just a month of being site mates.

Yesterday, my health center staff finally had a New Year’s celebration. Before Christmas they initiated a secret Santa game where we all drew names and were told to buy this person a gift. I asked about kind, and spending limits and such, to which I was told “whatever works.” I’m not sure they understood, that I was new to this in this culture! I drew the name of the gardener here which made me really happy because he is one of the nicest people and also one of the people here that has the least. So we all got together at the health center last night, and everyone
was so happy and excited to find out their surprise. It started with the titulaire, or the head of our health center, who described her person as everyone shouted out guesses. Finally it was revealed, and then that person did the same with the person whose name they drew.

I’ve been kind of sick and so I spaced out a bit as I was coughing and the next thing I know everyone was shouting my name. So I tried to give even the slightest impression that I knew what was going on. I was somewhat shoved into the middle of the room and wrapped in a full body hug by the accountant who had drawn my name. First she pulled a necklace from her pocket and clasped it around my neck, jerking my scarf off and flinging me around so everyone could see it. Next she pulled three wooden colorful bracelets out of her pocket and shoved them onto my wrist. Then she handed me a family (or costco) sized package of cookies, as everyone cheered! I really like my gifts, but this was not the night for grace or poise in front of the audience as everyone was so excited, and I seemed to be tossed in every direction at some point throughout the evening.

Unfortunately I missed the memo about needing a gift bag, so I was the only person to actually give my gift in a paper bag, somewhat embarrassingly, however, he was thrilled either way, which was awesome. The whole night was full of laughter, cheering, yelling, and all other sorts of celebration, and it was so much fun to be a part of it and see all these people I’ve known for six months now, open up in this way. It was also pretty cool to be part of a work party in Rwanda. This world gets smaller every day! This whole week has been much needed, visitors and celebrations. Life in Rwanda continues on, but I feel as if I do have a place here. Although, I’ve been mentally exhausted so to speak the last few weeks, my good humor, and maybe more importantly, my patience, are returning to me, thankfully! So much love everyone and until next we meet, may the road rise to meet you, wherever it is you go and end up! Miss you!

The first three photos are from my hike in Nyungwe National Park with Nick and his friend Rachel. The fourth is my co-workeer Venuste dancing as he received his secret santa gift from Bazalisa, and finally, this last picture is of the healthcenter staff and myself (unfortunately much too close to the camera)!

Noheli Nziza, Christmas in Rwanda!

After yet another wedding here in Rwanda, this time Jehovah Witness, I delved into the holiday season. The wedding was of my co-worker Samuel and his now wife, Alphonsine. It was the shortest of the three that I’ve been to and also probably the most fun. It’s all in the company you keep. I went with a bunch of women from my health center and my friend Claude. So, it was a lot of fun. The following Thursday I left to spend a few days in Kigali, seeing the dentist and hanging out with the new education volunteers that swore in that week. This was followed by a trip home
to see my host family, which is where the holidays really start. I surprised each of them with gifts for Christmas, and just like my family back home, my host-papa was the hardest person to shop for as I couldn’t give him the Powell’s gift certificate like I would to my dad. We went around in a circle and they each opened their presents one by one.

After they opened them everyone clapped. It was so rewarding to see their faces. I have been experiencing giving and receiving the “I just got the best Christmas present” face for over 20 years now, but this was a first for them. It was so awesome to be a part of it. Undershirts for Pastor Bonnke, a new pashmina scarf for Mama Doka, English dictionary for Nafta, Rwandan fabric tote-bags for the girls, hat for Ephrem and rubber balls for the youngest boys. It was a really great start to Christmas. It was also really great to see Nafta who has been away at college in Uganda. I hadn’t seen my oldest host-brother since I left for my site back in July! The first picture is of some of my friends that I went to Samuel's wedding with and the photo below is Samuel and his new wife in the car riding back to their new home together!

I ventured home to my site on the following Monday, although it was and is no longer my site alone. My site mate arrived the day before I got back and has avidly been making himself a part of our community. It’s really nice to have someone from back home this close to me, but it definitely changes the dynamic. I’m not sure exactly (although I can make some assumptions) we are perceived in the community, but I know it feels different walking through the community with another foreigner. He’s a great addition however, and I feel very fortunate that he was assigned to the same site. It’s easy not to mesh with everyone, but especially when integration into your community is what is at stake, so to speak. So I’m very happy to report that Nick and I, thus far, seem to do a good job with this!

Nick came over to my house for Christmas eve and we made a really great feast. Mashed potatoes with Turkey Gravy, peas and green beans, teriyaki ham with pineapple, followed by an attempted yet still delicious apple-pie concoction! This was all topped off with hot apple ciders followed by a Christmas movie. It was a great way to do Christmas, US style before the Sunday church festivities began. So yes, Sunday I went to church, quite possibly the first time in my life I have been to church on Christmas. Unfortunately it went until one o’clock, but on the upside, the choir was a lot of fun. Church was followed by brief visits with several friends in the community followed by watching “The Grinch” while eating Christmas Eve leftovers. For anyone who doesn’t know, my mother forced a tradition on my brother and I years ago, that I hate to admit, I’ve become quite fond of. We are RECQUIRED to watch “The Grinch” (the cartoon version) before we are allowed to open our presents. So I did just this.

I had wrapped presents to open from my mom, Bill and Em, and Debbie, which looked wonderful under my Charlie Brown Christmas tree, and other packages from my dad and Grandma! I also received wonderful Christmas cards from my aunt Maryann, Rob and Kristina and some others which really made my Christmas all that more special. Thank you everyone so much for sending these my way! They made my holiday season so bright! But, I thank all my wonderful family and friends that sent me their Christmas wishes through other mediums as well! I can’t really explain how nice it is to get messages from home in any form. So thank you so very much!

Anyways, my Christmas was finished with laying in bed and watching a marathon of Christmas movies which was really nice, especially since they were interrupted with the random phone calls from home, as well as from my Rwandan friends and family! Although my holiday was mellow, it was nice to indulge in my culture from the US, watching Christmas movies, sitting under my Christmas lights and dreaming of Santa Claus. This last week has very much been a more relaxing one as I’ve been feeling so tired! So, I’ve worked until around two each day, then rested the rest of the afternoon. I’m going to get back to the hard work after the new year, which
starts tomorrow. We’ve also had a lot of extra holidays in the last two weeks. Last Monday we had off, whether for boxing or otherwise I’m not sure, and we have this following Monday off. It’s been a nice break that I needed to recuperate from the last eight months of Peace Corps Rwanda. The picture above is Nick making the Teriyaki Ham, and the picture below is our Christmas Eve feast!

This last week I also had my first taste of Hanukkah, which came in the form of matzo ball soup and learning to play with a dreidel. So thanks so much to Nick for sharing some more holiday experiences with me. This brings us to New years. Although, many of you know this is my
least favorite holiday of the year and especially this year as it marks a five year anniversary. So I am taking this new years for myself and relaxing. Although I’d love to be out dancing with my friends in Portland or Bend, counting down to the new year, this is a nice alternative. So I am hoping that all of you have a wonderful time out and about and doing the countdown for me.
I will catch up on the celebratory holiday when I return stateside! So, so much love this holiday season and know that I very much miss you all! Hope you had the merriest of Christmases and the happiest of New Years. 2012 already ey? Time is going so fast! Noheli nziza kandi umyaka mushi muhire? Or Bon annee nziza! See you in 2012!

This is a picture of the choir in church on Christmas day. Oh, and PS. GO DUCKS!

GLOW-ing and BE-ing in Rwanda...

The past two weeks started with a visit by my host-papa, Pastor Bonnke, who came to my site and did a guest sermon at the Pentecostal church here. The whole visit really made it feel homey in the convergence of multiple worlds of mine. I can’t imagine what it will be like when my friends and family visit from the states. But, it was really nice having him. He stayed with my co-worker who is the head of the church here and a good friend of mine. So, it was also really nice to foster other relationships and friendships.The following picture is of Claude, his wife Chantal (with baby Innes on her back), my host father, and my friend Agnes during his visit to my site. The first picture is just of a house in my community, just trying to share a little bit more of Rwanda. Although a really nice visit with my host father, it felt a little stressed as Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) kicked off on that following Monday with a meeting with the other Peace Corps volunteers. So, really the last two weeks were spent doing camps GLOW and BE (Boys Excelling) which are leadership camps done worldwide by the Peace Corps, although they are not a requirement.

This was the first year that Rwanda did regional camps instead of one national one, so it was interesting to see how everything went. Week one was girls, followed by the boys during week two. We had dances at night, followed by talent shows and we taught about peer education, goal setting, saving money, and career development, as well as preventing HIV, STIs, and gender roles. It was really interesting to see the differences between the girls and the boys in each particular session. One noticeable difference was general outgoing-ness was much more common amongst the boys. I was really surprised by their openness in asking me questions about sex, using condoms, etc. I did do condom demonstrations which was pretty entertaining. I practiced being able to say “No” with the girls, and had a lengthy discussion with the boys about how, even though society says you need to want sex to be a “man” it’s ok to say no. It’s ok not to be ready.

I guess I should mention that the campers were supposed to be between 15 and 18 years old. We had a lot of good discussions about gender equality and what that really meant. When hearing double standards between the genders I was very quick to remind them that they said men and women were supposed to be equal. Needless to say, there were a lot of very interesting cross-cultural experiences throughout the camps, and many times that I had to bite my tongue and control any feminism that was begging to come yelling out of me. All together it was really fun and it was nice to be away from site just a little bit, and still be working! The following picture is doing what is called the "condom chronology game" which I really love because it starts with asking and receiving consent. The campers are all handed cards and have to rearrange themselves from start to finish in the steps to having safe sex. So here are my girls from GLOW doing the activity.

The volunteer’s house that we stayed at as well had a real shower with running hot water, which was a really nice perk as well. A lot of the hotels or other places that have running hot water here in Rwanda, you have to hold the nozzle up above your head in order to take a shower, then put it down to soap up and such. This one was legitimate though, and after 15 hours of camp, it was really nice to be able to stand underneath the running hot water without all the blood running out of my arm. The camps would start at 7 am for breakfast followed by sessions, tea break, more sessions, lunch, more sessions, then sports or activities (we did yoga a couple days) and then dinner at 7 pm, followed by a dance, or a talent show until 9 or 10 pm. It was a long day and again I have to say I have new respect for teachers, especially those teaching students which do not speak English as a primary language.

After the girls camp, we were able to work out a lot of the kinks experienced and BE went even better than GLOW, which is surprising because they both went so well, especially as it was planned by people who had never been involved in one before. So it was a success and we have a lot of great ideas for next year! But, now that the camps are finished, I have another wedding tomorrow, followed by a trip to Kigali to see the dentist, then to visit the host-family to celebrate an early Christmas.

When I get back to site next Monday, my new site mate will be here and we are going to cook Hanukkah and Christmas dinners or some such and I’ll wrap 2011 up with visions of the snow-covered Cascades and family gatherings, smells of baking and dreams of all the food I’m missing. But don’t worry, I’ve got great plans in store. I’ve already been harassing my roommates with incessant Christmas music playing, but I also have a good stock of Christmas movies on my computer including the cartoon version of The Grinch which my mom makes us watch every year before opening our presents. I have my tree set up with presents next to it waiting for the credits of The Grinch to cross my computer screen, although I did already open a framed picture of my beautiful niece which is propped up next to my album turned to a picture of Lindsey and I. So if I don’t post again before hand, Happy Holidays and Merry Merry Christmas. So much love and I’m holding you all close to my heart as I drink my hot cider and listen to everything from Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra, to Christmas mix CDs and NPR All Songs Considered Holiday Playlist Specials! So much love and warm wishes! The picture above is my group from camp BE who decided to call themselves, "The hot boyz, featuring Megan!" Yeah, our cheer was yelling HOT BOYZ over and over. The bottom is boys playing soccer on the basketball court at the school with Nyungwe way in the distance.