I'm Home

My world travels have come to a temporary halt. I returned to Oregon, my heart and my home, in early October. It took a night in Ethiopia, two glorious days basking in the sunny, canal woven streets of Amsterdam, a giddy-with-exhaustion reunion in NYC; altogether five solid days of travel, and I finally landed softly back where I started.
I could wax nostalgic all over this post about how the trip has impacted me. I'll leave it at two things that struck me: first, is that people thrive under the unlikeliest of conditions; and as a corollary, what seems to make it possible are the bonds of community and good will - local and global. I am, very simply, humbled by what common focus makes possible. I have great hope that the shape of survival in so many of the places I visited "off roads" from a patently Western trajectory and finds comfort in unique equilibrium.
There and here (caught in the job search decision tangle) the frenzy of choice and possibility set starkly against the simplicity of needs creates a paradox and existential brain tease that, all at once, is excruciating, intoxicating and completely cliche.

Sharing stories, mishaps, opinion, plans, and enthusiasm through this blog has added an unexpected layer of gratitude for it all. I am thankful for this mode of communication- to be able to write to you from some far off place, to capture a piece of the experience and share it, then move on, build on the adventure, and do it again.
I wrote the last several posts during a two week "wrap up" period in Kigali and save the latest to post well after I safely exited the country. Just in case.

Two Faces

Rwanda is a very ordered country, largely thanks to the influence of the uber popular President Kigame who was recently re-elected for another 7 year term with overwhelming support. The elections occurred shortly before I arrived and were marked by a barrage of propaganda campaigns, rallies, and a few random grenade attacks on bus stations in the city center. The rest of the world didn't likely hear much about the violence, thanks mostly to the heavy censorship of bad publicity, including dissent of any kind. Rumor has it that the beloved PK (code name used by expats when speaking frankly in public…that alone should say enough) has full control over the media and silences opposition through discreditation, intimidation, or house arrest. His actions have been openly criticized by human rights groups and the US government, with only curt response. He argues that there is no room for dissent in Rwanda as the country attempts to move forward after the devastation of the 1994 genocide, and that no distractions should be permitted that might interrupt the healing process or development goals. It's an interesting argument and one that is harder to challenge when Rwanda is considered a success story (again by the US government) for progress made since '94. The country experiences little corruption, has low levels of crime and is relatively prosperous compared to its neighbors. The dominant top-down, systematic control approach has interesting consequences, some that might be considered positive while others less so. The strong vigilance of the State manifests in many different ways. For instance, there are little things like getting stopped and fined by the police for putting one foot in a grass median, or slightly more concerning things like learning that there are "files" that exist for every ex-pat residing in the country. Although I can't speak to the file content, the overall message is that your life, your purpose here, and your actions aren't a secret. Citizens are encouraged to report (via "call ins") all kinds of activity to local government. The information is then passed on to higher levels if deemed necessary. On the up-side, this system is largely responsible for a general lack of corruption. Tight fisted influence has instituted a monthly community service day called "umuganda," modeled after traditional practice. On the last Saturday of every month everyone over the age of 18 years is obliged to come together and collectively participate in a community service activity. After the work is done meetings are held to allow time for community members to voice general concerns and to propose future umuganda projects. The projects themselves range from building and repairing infrastructure, to helping vulnerable families within the community. So the control and order has two faces. From a Western point of view, the price paid is privacy and autonomy. I should mention that umuganda is not voluntary, it's expected, police enforced (unless you hide in your home), and incentivized by taking names, shutting down roads and transportation systems, and halting all local business between 8am and noon (roughly). It's organized at the village level, so absences don't go unnoticed. For me, the feeling of being watched is disconcerting, to a nation still rattled by devastating violence, it can reasonably be conceived of as comforting.

Lost in Translation

The t-shirts worn in the rural areas are incredibly amusing. I can't help but smile when I see a little boy wearing a shirt with "world's cutest cowgirl" splashed in sequins across the chest. There's the ironic "I love snow days," or "blondes do it better" and the oh-so cherished image of a super slight 80 year old woman swimming in an oversized “Tupac Lives” tee. I'm passed by a woman, mud crusted hoe in hand, sporting the logo for a Minnesotan turkey trot and I'm left dumbstruck, once again, by the fickle finger of context.

Quirks of Kigali

I've heard a few foreigners refer to Kigali as the "Disney Land" of Africa. The influence of the West are not limited to designer coffee, a 24hr shopping center and Hummers, but the this city has immense personality all its own. The most entertaining and convenient way to get around town is by moto taxi. The process goes something like this: whistle, wave or hiss (very popular) to signal that you want a ride, bargain for a price in French or broken Kinyarwanda, throw on the spare helmet, hop on the back and straddle a total stranger while white knuckling it toward a requested destination. Each ride is an adventure alone, but the blessings of nimble transport can also be its curse. Motos have the advantage of creating a third "lane" by squeezing through the 36 inch gap between the preexisting ones. Capitalizing on vehicular elbow room is guiltlessly satisfying in bumper to bumper traffic. The down side is the momentary terror of getting smeared against neighboring vehicles. Throw in mid-ride (engine running) gas stops, construction-evading sidewalk riding, back seat language lessons, thunderous afternoon downpours, and giant I-need-to-race-EVERYONE ego, and you have a picture of the potential associated shinanyguns. Bus transport is a close second for entertaining conveyance. The Kigali bus system is doing its part to carry Rwandan hiphop to every corner of the city via radio waves and I return the favor by mystifying fellow riders with my white girl "seat dancing" moves.

Karmic Voyeurism

For a weekend excursion we traveled as a group to Akagera National Park in the Eastern Province. I was pretty satisfied with my bicycle safari in Kenya, but in the end I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see more. Plus, we heard that the park had recently burned, making it hard for animals to hide from our prying eyes. The trip required a lot of sitting, which tested everybody's enjoyment of the experience. One of the three vehicles broke down soon after entering the park, which called for creative, close quartered seating reconfigurations in already hot conditions. We saw plenty of incredible wildlife: baboons, giraffes, hippos, crocodiles, spider monkeys, buffalo, gazelle, zebra, and antelope to name a few. Sadly, I think the biting fly attack at the end of the day remains everyone's most vivid memory of the excursion. The inside of our jeep turned into a bloody graveyard of the insidious pests. I smashed indiscriminately and remorselessly.