This is a
photo of a local soccer match between “Muzungu
Nation” and US Embassy. One of our new friends plays
on the Muzungu Nation team. Muzungu is a Swahili word
used to describe a person of European origin. We are
referred to as Muzungus daily. It is not a derogatory
term, but one of respect.
As our family was walking to the field, several
little Rwandan boys crowded around us Muzungus. They
were there by themselves to watch a little Saturday
“football.” Rebecca and I were walking in front, and
Jessica and Ben were behind us. The little boys kept
“petting” Ben’s hair like he was a puppy dog, but
every time I turned around, their hands shot down to
their sides. They didn’t care if Jessica saw them,
but they were afraid of “Daddy Muzungu.” Ben didn’t
even notice. He was too busy watching
“soccer/football” as he calls it.
As we continue to adjust to the differences in how
things work here, I’ll share a couple of
observations. In the last month, I have been asked to
“loan” money to more people that I can count.
Initially, I was offended by the request for
financial assistance from people whom I was just
getting to know; however, I failed to recognize some
substantial differences in our cultures. In many
African cultures, requesting financial assistance
from someone is a sign of showing respect and
closeness to that individual. This culture is much
more relationally-driven than our individualistic
American culture. With our financial wealth in the
US, most of us have the ability to rely only on
ourselves financially. With a drastically lower level
of wealth distribution here, family members, distant
relatives and friends support each other financially.
When people have few resources and no government
assistance, they figure out how to take care of each
other. As long as the US Dollar doesn’t continue to
weaken against the Rwandan Franc, I might be able to
become my own microfinance institution. I’m mentally
planning a 100% loan loss reserve rate.
In the US, we talk a lot about finding “community”
and meaningful relationships that last. That’s not a
problem for the Rwandans. The continual struggle for
financial security here and the suffering that goes
along with that help create strong communal bonds
that, sadly, we can’t relate to. The strong
individualism that defines the American way doesn’t
work here, and for the first time, I’m seeing how
much I pursue security, comfort and financial
independence without even knowing it. Can we really
have a community without dependence on one another?
How is dependence fleshed out in our American culture
where our individual pursuits seem to always take
priority? I don’t have the answers, but it’s got me
thinking.
From
Jessica -- Today an African Choir performed in our
living room. Yes, I'm serious. Two weeks ago, Todd
and Ben visited an Anglican church with our guard and
new friend Alfred. They met the pastor and several of
Alfred's fellow choir members. A few days ago, Todd
received a call from the pastor, Jean Paul, who said,
"Can I bring a few choir members by your home on
Sunday afternoon?" Todd, with his Missionary Baptist
upbringing, pictured a Baptist "visitation" with the
pastor and a couple of church members. So he said,
"Sure." So the next day I began asking Alfred some
questions. Here's how that conversation went...
Jessica: So Alfred, we're excited to meet some of
your friends in the choir. How many are in the choir?
Alfred: About 30.
Jessica: Oh really? And how many of them will come on
Sunday?
Alfred: All of them.
Jessica: pause....OK...Well, what time do you think
they will all be coming?
Alfred: After the church service.
Jessica: And when does the service end?
Alfred: Oh, it depends on how long we go. Maybe noon.
Jessica: OK. Should I have some food prepared?
Alfred: Yes, that would be good.
Jessica: I've never cooked for 30 people with a tiny
stove, tiny fridge, no disposal, no dishwasher,
inconsistent water, inconsistent electricity, and all
of my cookware on a container in Tanzania. (No, I
didn't really say all of that. I just thought it.
What I actually said was, "Do you think I could just
offer them a dessert?)
Alfred: Sure!
Jessica: Great. Now, will they speak English?
Alfred: Not much.
Jessica: That's OK. But what should we do with them
while they are here?
Alfred: We will sing for you.
Jessica: Oh wonderful! We would love to hear one of
your songs.
Alfred: Oh, we will sing many many songs.
Jessica: Oh, good. Um, how long do you think they
will stay?
Alfred: Until about 6 p.m.
Obviously we have much to learn about African
culture. Once all 30 of them and their keyboard
managed to get into our little duplex, we had a
wonderful time. Rebecca decorated our home with her
latest artwork. They were sweet people, and their
music was beautiful. The pictures in the blog library
don’t do it justice. (Nor do they show how many were
really here. We couldn’t get them all in one
picture!)
From Todd --
These are the items that tempt me and expand my diet
beyond the typical rice, beans and vegetables of
sub-saharan Africa. The Coke Light from Dubai is
better than Diet Coke at home, but it costs about
$1.25 for a 12-ounce can. Ben and I go through a Hot
& Spicy Pringles can every few days. It’s helpful
to have these “vices” here to give us a taste of
home. Pringles have always reminded me of my Paw Paw
Rand, as he always had these around his home when I
was younger. The nostalgia of those memories has
never been stronger than it is now. I’ve noticed the
same emotions with music. I’ve always been a big
music lover, and I’ve recognized that the emotions
tied to music have only strengthened since we’ve
arrived in Rwanda.
We promised our kids a dog in Africa, and today we
brought home “Beauty,” a one-year-old German Shepherd
mix. They’re so excited...in their eyes, she is truly
beautiful.
We have had so many new experiences in such a short
time - in some ways it’s like going to college all
over again - being bombarded with new sights and
sounds in a quick succession. I’ve discovered that
here I cling to the most valuable memories of my life
at a deeper level than ever before. We’ve been here
three weeks, but it seems like three months. It will
be interesting to see what reminds me of Rwanda ten
years from now.
Each day carries some story I would love to share
with everyone at home...some of joy, some of sadness,
but mostly stories of hope. Given the country’s
traumatic past, I’m amazed at the hope the Rwandans
have in God, themselves and their country. They are
inspiring to live among, and I’m blessed to count
many as my friends in just three short
weeks.
From Todd --
This is a photo of Ben having his lunch outside our
kitchen with Alfred, our guard that lives with us
during the week. Alfred is really good with our kids,
and he is so helpful and a joy to have around. Ben
loves going outside to eat lunch with Alfred. It
remains awkward to have help like Alfred, but he
could not be happier with his new adopted family.
Alfred’s friend, Steven, is at our home on the
weekends when Alfred gets time off. Steven is an
orphan that has finished secondary school and is
trying to make enough money to go to University. At
first we didn’t think he spoke much English until I
read some of his study materials -- complex economic
principals hand-written in English.
House help, along with many other peculiarities, make
living in Rwanda such a dramatic shift from living in
America. Jessica and I, along with the kids, have all
struggled with adjusting to the pace of life here. It
is so much slower and there is no such thing as
instant gratification. What takes 20 minutes at home
takes at least 2 hours here--if you’re lucky or know
someone. Another major adjustment is the language
barrier. I did not understand the magnitude of this
challenge until I experienced it first hand. I’m
never quite sure if I understand what someone is
telling me, and I’m sure that don’t really understand
what I’m trying to say.
Last Friday I traveled to Kibuye, Rwanda (find that
on a map) which is on Lake Kivu on the western border
of Rwanda with the Democratic Republic of Congo. Lake
Kivu is a large, volcanic lake that is breathtakingly
beautiful. I visited Bethanie Guest House which is
owned by the Presbyterian Church and it was such a
tranquil and relaxing place. The setting was similar
to an expensive resort on the Mediterranean, but this
place is so remote that it gets very little tourist
traffic. It is roughly 50 miles from Kigali, but it
takes almost 3 hours to get there due to winding
roads that luckily are in excellent shape. (The
Chinese built the road.)
We’re having our emotional ups and downs, but overall
we’re settling in well. God is teaching us patience
with the culture; gentleness with each other and our
children; and forbearance towards others unlike
ourselves.
From Jessica
-- The highlight of our week was Sunday...work day at
KICS (Kigali International Community School.) The
school is being started by several ex-pat families
who have tried the Rwandan schools with no luck.
After hearing their stories, we decided to skip the
trauma and go straight to KICS. We began at 9 a.m.
with worship and prayer. (Todd played his first
guitar in Africa.) It was unusual and sweet for us to
share that time with the children of the school.
Afterward, we jumped into various projects...creating
bulletin boards, planting flowers, making name tags,
assembling playground equipment, etc. There was an
excitement and enthusiasm about being a part of a
grassroots effort to create something special for our
kids. There are about 30 students at the school from
the U.S., the Netherlands, the Philippines, Canada
and Kenya. We met most of Rebecca and Ben’s teachers,
classmates and their families. Rebecca and Ben
enjoyed “helping,” and they’re excited about school
starting on Thursday.
We celebrated Rebecca’s 6th birthday on September 8th
with a pancake breakfast at the Cavins’, then
swimming, presents, dinner and cake at the
Intercontinental Hotel that evening. We continue to
be pleasantly surprised and thankful for her
adjustment here, given her shy, sensitive nature.
We’re learning that in general, the highs are very
high and the lows are very low. Saturday was my
toughest day so far. The kids and I were stir crazy
and there was no where to go. I felt glued to the
kitchen...cooking is getting the best of me for a
variety of reasons (no chicken, no dishwasher, no
disposal, water must be boiled and filtered, produce
must be soaked in a solution, ants and geckos sneak
in the large cracks under the doors, etc.) We thought
we found someone to help with cooking and cleaning,
but she’s moving to Uganda soon so we’re looking for
someone else. I went to bed that night thinking maybe
I was in way over my head. Then came Sunday with the
enthusiasm of the KICS work day, and I was on cloud
nine.
Thank you for all the emails of encouragement we’ve
received. I must admit it feels awkward or
self-absorbed to journal our thoughts for so many.
I’m new at this, so I find myself second-guessing if
I’m sharing the right information, especially the
negative stuff. But I figure if I can’t be honest,
it’s not worth doing. So bear with me.
From
Todd -- I miss the beginning of fall in Arkansas.
Going to McCrory for opening day of dove season,
being near the corn harvest, and the opening weekend
of college football remind me of the coolers days to
come. I found somewhat cooler days in Rwanda, but
without an air conditioner it’s probably a wash.
We’ve had many memorable experiences in our first
week. Our new next-door neighbors, John and Courtney
Peays, just lost their son, Ben. He was born 10 weeks
premature and was evacuated to South Africa, but he
suffered an infection in his brain and could not
fight it. John and their 15-month-old son, Luke, were
in route to South Africa when Ben passed on to
heaven, so Courtney was alone in the hospital as she
held her dying son.
There are already too many experiences that I would
like to share but don’t have the space for - from
walking through a clothing market that looked like
the lost-and-found after an American youth group
retreat, to going without water in our home for 36
hours.
One of the most interesting things I’ve noticed is
the challenge that it is for us to deal with
inactivity. For example, I took Ben to church with me
this morning. Jessica and Rebecca stayed home as lack
of water made it difficult for all of us to get ready
for church. As we visited a small Anglican church in
the Remera neighborhood of Kigali, we were two of
four white people in the building. We were welcomed
and felt comfortable. As we sat through scripture
readings, songs, etc. I struggled to keep Ben
“entertained” with raisins, books, etc. The Rwandan
children sat silent with no sign of being unhappy. I
recognized a difference in our cultures. Our kids,
and all of us, need more stimulation and structure
than Rwandans. As I get frustrated with the seemingly
unorganized method of doing business and getting
things done here, I realize how high-maintenance I
am. From entertaining our children to entertaining
ourselves, a step into a culture that doesn’t rely on
so much stimulation is a step out of the ordinary for
me. I pray this will be an experience that will teach
me the value of simplicity and contentment in my
life.
PS - Check out some of our photos in the “Library.”
And if you’d like to see the blog from our visit to
Rwanda in May, visit http://toddbrogdon.blogspot.com/
.
From
Jessica -- On the left is our home in Kigali...225
Rue Terminalia Street. It’s in a set of duplexes with
a diverse mix of Rwandans and expats. On the right is
the view from our home.
Our first week has been full! We stayed with Dabbs,
Mary, Will and Kate Cavin for the first several days.
Their family has been here since April, and Dabbs and
Todd will be working together at the bank. The Cavins
were wonderful hosts. Rebecca and Ben adore Will and
Kate, and the familiar faces helped ease the
transition. In fact, we’ve been amazed at how well
the children are doing.
The second day we were here, we took them swimming at
the Novatel hotel, an expat hangout. Rebecca became
immediate friends with 7-year-old Ruth Jenkins, who
was adopted by a missionary family here. They ran
around chasing two crested cranes. It made my eyes
fill with tears, because Rebecca had been concerned
about all the “people with dark skin,” and here she
was holding hands and laughing her head off with one
of them.
Our first “Get me back to America” moment came the
night we moved into our home. We got in late, and the
kids were tired and cranky. Everything was in
suitcases, and I couldn’t find anything. I tried to
start the bath water and realized we had forgotten to
plug in the hot water heater, so there was no hot
water. Todd was sweating profusely, trying to hammer
a hook in the metal ceiling to hang the mosquito net
over the children’s bed. Then the electricity went
out. Our new next-door neighbor John Peays came over
and brought us candles and flashlights. We continued
what we were doing in the dark, then Ben stepped on a
candle. It was 30 minutes of utter chaos. At one
point I looked at Todd and said, “Someday we will
look back on this night and laugh.”
Everywhere we go, people are walking on the side of
the road, carrying goods on their heads. The small
children carry heavy tubs of water to and from their
homes, which are primarily mud huts. The way of life
for expats and upper/middle class Rwandans is to have
workers inside and outside the home. Our guard Alfred
lives in a tiny room attached to the back of our
house. It has a small mattress, a shower and a
toilet. It’s probably about 6 ft x 6 ft. His wife and
three daughters live two hours away, and he works in
the city and sees them about twice a month. He is a
part-time pastor and sings in the choir. And he is
thrilled to have this job.
Yesterday Todd stopped by to get an ice cream cone on
his way home from running errands. He was feeling a
little down because it was the opening morning of
dove season and the first Razorback football game at
home. As he was buying his ice cream, he saw six
little children looking in the window at him with
hungry eyes. He bought six more ice cream cones and
didn’t feel so low any more.