Faithful Rwandans

I had my first rough patch here in Rwanda a few weeks ago….definitely a test! First I slipped on wet concrete while it was pouring down rain and injured my lower back. And then a couple of days later, I came down with malaria and was out for about a week. On top of my already painful back injury, malaria greatly affects the back and neck, so I was barely able to get out of bed for a few days. Although I was very ill, I never got the chance to get homesick and miss my “mama” because all of my faithful Rwandan friends were right there to take care of me. My housegirl, Jackie, would not leave my side and came in to cook for me every day to make sure that I was eating. She would tell me in a very stern voice “you not eat, you not my friend”. I barely had time to rest because of the teachers from Sonrise and my other friends in town calling to check on me. I literally had to turn away visitors so I could rest. I was quickly nursed back to health and definitely felt the love and loyalty of my friends here.

Stand-In Nieces and Nephews

If you know me at all, you know that I am absolutely crazy about my two nieces and one nephew. They definitely hold my heart in their hands and have been my only cause for even the slightest bit of homesickness (sorry Mom!). So, I have had to adopt some stand-ins here in Rwanda. I have this group of little ones, mostly who are children of the staff at school, who call me Auntie Anna. They can't understand a word I am saying, but they love me just like I am their own aunt:) Here are some pictures of my precious little ones…..I had to share their beautiful faces.











Here are twins Renee and Elena. Their father is the Assistant Chaplain at Sonrise. One or both of them come to sit on my lap every Sunday at church.









Sweet Lynette....her mom is a teacher at Sonrise.


More twins! Sonia and Dixon....they are the children of my housekeeper, Jackie. Sonia is still not quite sure about me, but Dixon loves me!

Article in The New Times

A couple weeks ago I was sitting in a restaurant and met the guy sitting next to me, who turned out to be a journalist for the main newspaper in Rwanda, The New Times. After talking with him for a while, he asked me to write an article for the paper about my perceptions as an American moving to Rwanda. I warned him that I was not even really an English teacher and certainly not a journalist. He encouraged me to write…so here it is. My first shot at journalism. I never dreamed I would come to Rwanda and end up writing for the national newspaper. My new "editor" has asked if I would write a weekly article. I don’t know if it will be weekly, but hopefully there will be more. Here is the article:

"Muraho! I arrived in Rwanda from the US about two months ago to teach Advanced English at Sonrise Secondary School in Musanze for the next year. My work was made possible through an organization called Bridge2Rwanda, an NGO which works to increase the overall economical and educational development in the country of Rwanda. Prior to my arrival, I researched the country by reading a stack of books, watching movies and receiving advice from people who have spent time here. These resources taught me about the history of the country and reconciliation efforts following the genocide, as well as the boom in economic development over the past few years under President Kagame’s leadership. Meeting a few Rwandans in the U.S. was especially helpful, as they gave me insight into the cultures, traditions, and overall lives of the people. However, I never fully understood the beauty and rarity of this country until I saw it for myself. I never understood the heart of the people until I became a part of their lives. I never comprehended the strength of this nation until I became immersed in it.

Upon my arrival, I simply absorbed the novel sights of the country: people walking and riding bikes along the road, the picturesque mountains, the women carrying babies on their backs and bundles or food on their head, children running barefoot carrying their water jugs and farms and huts dotting the many hills. I have come to fall in love with the faces of the people and the rich colors of the landscape. I am frequently greeted with the kind words “you are most welcome here” and believe these words are genuinely spoken. The people have welcomed me into their homes and taken me as part of their families. It is easy to forget that the color of my skin is different, although I am often reminded by the children yelling “muzungu!” as I pass. We may come from different places and have different experiences, but we are ultimately all the same traveling through this adventure called life.

Rwanda has so much to teach not only the world, but also individual lives of people in this world. I have been amazed by witnessing firsthand the capacity of the human heart for forgiveness and reconciliation. Rwandans have not forgotten their past but refuse to remain in it and strive to learn from it. There is a strength and determination here that I have rarely seen in my lifetime; a strength that is contagious and a determination that has no boundaries. I have come to realize that I have much more to learn from Rwanda than I could ever teach it. President Kagame once said that “Rwanda is a purpose-driven country”, and I am honored take part in this purpose. I love my own country and am proud to be from America, but I hope to take back lessons learned from Rwanda that will make my country a better place. One of my students told me he felt as though our lives were destined to cross, and I feel as though my life was destined to cross through the country of Rwanda. Rwanda will forever be a part of me."

Illegal Immigrant....Almost

This Sunday I had a visit from my village children again, and to save them a two hour walk, I give them the 25 minute car ride back to the bottom of the mountain where they live. On our way, we saw my friend Francis coming from Sonrise and stopped to pick him up to accompany us on our ride. Francis is a math teacher and the Discipline Master at Sonrise School and has become a very dear friend to me here in Rwanda. The road to this mountain is also the road to Uganda, and since Francis is from Uganda, he kept telling me “you are taking me home”. After we dropped the boys off, Francis said the border was only a short distance away. Since I had never seen the Ugandan border, we decided to continue on our way so that I could even just for a moment experience Francis’ homeland. However, we had no passports, no visas….nothing with us. Francis was sure that he could get us through to simply step foot on Ugandan soil, as he knew some of the border patrol.

When we arrive at the Rwandan border, we enter Immigration to talk with Francis’ friend, Jane. She let us past Immigration and told us next to talk to Border Patrol. We get permission from the Border Patrol Manager, but he says we have to park my car and go on foot, in the rain. Next we have to sweet talk security into actually letting us through the border. In between the border of Rwanda and Uganda is a distance of about 30 meters that is called No-Man’s Land because it belongs to neither country. We walk through No-Man’s Land and almost reach the Ugandan border, and then Francis has second thoughts. He knew he could get himself through without a passport, but he thought the Ugandan border patrol might try to bribe me because of the color of my skin. I concede and decide it probably wasn’t the smartest idea of my life….to try to illegally enter a country in Africa with no identification (my dad is getting a little worried reading this right now:). So we take some pictures in No-Man’s Land next to the Ugandan welcome sign, chat with some of Francis’ friends who were money exchangers, and safely head back home. Next time I attempt to enter Uganda, I will do it legally. But it made for an entertaining, random adventure nonetheless.

Francis and I in "No-Man's Land" at the Ugandan Border....with the welcome sign in the background, trying not to get arrested:)

Rwandans know how to party!

I was invited by the students to a party at Sonrise celebrating the fifth year anniversary of the Gospel Choir. The Gospel Choir is one of the choirs that sings in chapel and church every week at Sonrise High School, usually singing English songs. I went on a Saturday afternoon and was expecting to stay for a couple hours. What was I thinking? I forgot that nothing in Rwanda last only a couple of hours. Six hours later (literally), I emerged from the party…BUT I relished every second of it. It was a celebration of singing, dancing, and eating (and most of it was done in Kinyarwandan), all planned by the students. They do not have prom or homecoming, but every once in a while, they get the chance to celebrate something special. And celebrate is what they did. I was definitely underdressed in my jeans, as the students brought out their finest clothing, including stark white suits and long, flowing traditional Rwandan dresses. I hardly recognized them out of their usual school uniforms.

Here are some videos of the students singing and dancing. They definitely know how to praise Jesus here!