Getting AcqUainted in Kigali

Photo by Susan Tjernagel in Kigali, Rwanda

An African city night, I lay beneath the cascading white draped mosquito netting encompassing my bed for the coming weeks. The summer air, cooled by the night fall, creeps through the open windows and golden drapes. The city is not still, although sleep calls for many school boys and girls, resting for the last dawning week of homework and uniforms.

The crickets keep a steady tune, burrowing thoughts in the rhythmic hum of creation. Subtle voices, deep and high, are the sound of passer-byres making the journey home from a distant water run or a visit to the city markets. Inside the home, I rest, a belly full of warm rice and a cooked vegetable medley, today has been the first full day in Kigali, Rwanda.

A family that I have known only through stories up until today are the open arms welcoming me with traditional African hospitality and love. I came on this adventure with two good friends, Susan and Beth. Susan has connected Beth and I through a decade-long relationship with this family, and we eagerly joined her reunion with curiosity and openness.

We spent a good part of the afternoon and evening sharing pieces of life with our new Rwandan friends, David and Christine and two young children, Hero and Heba. Christine, who is currently pregnant, walked us through her home, the kitchen and the children's shared bedroom. Finally, she opened the door into her bedroom and encouraged us to take a seat on the bedside with her. This woman, equally passionate and emotional, opened up about her life story. She eagerly shared about her childhood and early family life, meeting her husband and the journey towards marriage, having children and the joys and hardship that came with it, her vocation as an unpaid teacher and school headmaster and the apparent struggles that would come with a selfless dedication. She held nothing back, as if she hadn't had a listening ear in months. We listened, at times her voice shook, at times she laughed, at times she pronounced words with such a moaning passion it would be a shout if she wasn't so graceful.

The children masked their jubilant smiles when we first met them, shyly hiding near their parent's legs. They stared deeply at each one of us, as if to study our character and judge their comfortability to be themselves around us. But still, they greeted us with a flower, one single red rose for each of us, they placed it in our hands as we learned their name. Their conflicting actions showed me their hearts were ready to love while their minds were telling them to wait.

It didn't take long though. I got my first smile from Heba during an impromptu game of peak-a-boo behind her mother's back. Hero's miles of teeth revealed themself the moment we handed him a soccer ball that traveled continents to get to him. And the love has only grown from there.

We brought gifts for the kids from the States, games, toys, clothes. This is a family with a little more resources than many families you find in Kigali, but even as we toured their home the first time, I was surprised by the bareness. Heba and Hero had a toy section in the corner, it included bottle caps, boxes and an old doll, and a few other random items. And here we come, with our toys and games, ones they had never seen before. These gifts gave them an instant excitement, but when it came time to playing and laughing together, all it took was a piggy-back ride and a game of hide-and-go-seek to bring these shapeable spirits into immense joy and uncontrollable laughter. "Again!" "Again!" Heba would say as I spun her around. It was one of the few English words she knew but it was enough to express her happiness.

I have only been here a day and a half and I am humbled. We have stuff in the Western world, and we think that makes us happy. We bring it to struggling parts of the world, thinking it will make them happy. And like any new thing, it is exciting at first, but here, that is not where joy lies, they are used to living without it, and they seem richer because of this.

I can already tell, I have much to learn here.
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Photo by Susan Tjernagel in Kigali, Rwanda