a strange relationship (1)

I just moved into the same city as my boyfriend of almost three years.  Before this, we lived about two and a half hours away from each other, and saw each other about once a month, maybe twice.  I am now going to university in the city where he lives and works, and we see each other every day if we can manage it.  To walk to his place is a nice twenty-minute walk, and so I do it when I can ... and, being his girlfriend and a bit of a clean freak ... I’ve started to clean his house.  (Which is actually his sister’s house, but she’s not living in it at the moment and he’s renting it from her.  Anyway.)

So last Friday night, I ended up at his workplace about halfway through his shift.  I tried to get some studying done, but it was too noisy even with my headphones in, and so I took his car and headed to his place where I knew it would be pretty well silent (res isn’t bad, but it doesn’t have an open enough study surface where I can both spread my books out and be alone at the same time).  I had music history and psychology to do, as well as a diction assignment. 

As soon as I got there, I decided I was going to do his laundry.  Because it needed doing, and I knew quite well that he wouldn’t do it for a while yet.  And why not?  I was there, I knew how to work the washer and dryer just fine, and that way it’d all get done and he wouldn’t have to worry about it.  Also, it’s just a nice thing to do ... and it would give me breaks from my studying.

So I sort out the laundry and start a load ... put that one in the dryer and the next one in the wash ... took the dry stuff out of the dryer, but it wasn’t all dry, so left some stuff in ... put the second load in the dryer and cranked the temperature up to high ... next load in the wash.

Second dryer load is dry.  Take it out, put it on the couch to fold.  Take the third washed load and put it in the dryer.  Start the dryer, on medium this time, not high, since there’s less.

As I’m folding the laundry, I hear a boom over the music in my headphones (which is classical, just by the way).  I jerk my head over in the direction of the dryer and see an orange flash behind it.  There's no one else in the house, John doesn't have his phone on him, what if the house catches on fire, oh crap crap crap.

Stuff my headphones into my collar, drop the shirt, run over, no fire, dryer has stopped but is still on.  Turn it off.  Peer around the back.  I’ve got fifteen minutes before I need to go pick him up from work.  I need to finish folding and go get him, but I kinda don't want to leave the dryer in case the house catches on fire.  You know how it is.

By the time I finish folding, as I keep my eye on the dryer, I’m two minutes late to go get him.  Lock the house, jump in the car, drive to get him – praying all the while that the house wouldn’t burn down. 

He gets in, and I tell him on the way home that I’ve broken his dryer.  I expected the following:

“Oh no, we will have to pay for repairs ... “  General frustration and annoyance.

What happened:

“Huh.  Really?  Interesting.”

My reaction: ... ... ...

So when we get back to his place, he takes a look at the dryer.  I had wondered on my way to get him if I might have just blown a fuse ... and that’s what he suggests has happened, and he says that his father can likely fix it.  (His father’s a bit of a jack-of-all-trades and is a pretty cool guy.)  I’m relieved that the house hasn’t burned down.  [Update: a weld broke in the dryer, letting the drum (the part that spins) drop back against the heating element (which was the flash I saw).  It is fixable.  Phew!]

Now, of course, when we get back, we (mostly I (mostly by my own choice (mostly because it might not have happened otherwise (mostly because he doesn’t have the clean-it-all-it-must-be-cleaned – or Bohrok – gene)))) had to spend twenty minutes hanging up every single item of dark clothing (the load that did not get dried) that this man owns.  And he is tall.  And the drying rack he has is short.  So his pants just about touch the floor. 

I twitch at this.  He laughs.

I hang a whole schwack of clothes onto this rack, then have no more room for the shirts.  I get him to run upstairs and grab some hangers, with which I hang the shirts on the curtain rod ... and on the shower curtain rod in the bathroom ...  He had another drying rack that we could have used, but it needed assembly, and neither of us particularly wanted to figure it out (there were screws involved; it was eleven at night; we were both tired) ... so we tried an aluminum stepladder but that didn't work ... sigh.  No outdoor clothesline – the one he has needs cleaning, plus there has been so much wind these past few days that I have almost been blown away, so if we hung the laundry out to dry he wouldn’t have much laundry left.

I went back this morning briefly, and the stuff that was hanging was almost dry.  I expect it will be dry tomorrow.  [It still wasn't.  I don't even know if it's dry now.]

Ah, the adventures of one of the strangest dating relationships on the planet.

Rwanda, final post (April 4-7)

April 4, 2010; 1.49 CST

Didn’t win against the Zune.  Oh well. 

It is Easter almost all over the world!  That is nice to think about.

I have finished packing and am only waiting for the mini-scale in order to double-check that I am below the weight limit.  I’m pretty sure I am, even though it was difficult because of the size of a couple things – my duffel bag was really light because it was mostly filled by one big light thing, so almost everything else was in my suitcase.  I think it would have been a little bit over the weight limit if I had not managed to work more back into the duffel bag.

Writing down flights and customs stuff.  Just waiting.  It’s nine o’clock here now; we leave in a couple hours.

April 5, 2010; 7.16 CST

Sitting on the plane heading to Toronto – I believe we’re more than halfway there.  Filling out my Customs declaration card.  Wish I knew the exchange rates from USD to CAD and from pounds to CAD.  Since I don’t I can only estimate ...

Saying goodbye was not difficult in some ways, but was difficult in others.  It was somewhat difficult to say goodbye to Justine (she came to say goodbye to us!  It was nice of her – and I could give her my extra 5000 Rwf!), but it is good to be going home.

I am somewhat sad because I am not in a window seat but an aisle seat, and so cannot see the Atlantic.  Also it is cloudy so it would be hard to see anyway.  Oh well, that just means I have to come back.

I got to talk to John very briefly in Nairobi airport – I only realized after supper (so around nine o’clock PM Nairobi time) that the lounge we were in had Wifi too, and then people wanted to send emails.  I let them do that but managed maybe five minutes of chat.  I get to see him in seven hours, hooray!  I am looking forward to that.

I just finished watching Sherlock Holmes.  Not bad.  Not quite my Holmes, but an interesting Holmes.  Now I want to reread the stories.  Unfortunately do not have them with me.  Think I will watch another film.  Maybe The Young Victoria or The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus.  Depends on how much time I have.  If neither, I may play games.

April 7, 2010; 18.25 CST

I have been home for two days now, but it doesn’t feel like it.  I am feeling very confused and very lost and don’t know what to do with myself.  I have not been back to school apart from for my English test on Tuesday.  I am very jet-lagged but I have not been sleeping ... John was here until today, and I very much appreciated him being here, but I did not notice how clingy I was getting and eventually I hurt him ...  I am so screwed up and not thinking straight.  Nothing seems to have a point.  John makes sense and I almost feel ashamed that he is the one point that seems to make sense right now.  

And that's all she wrote.  It took me a couple weeks to get readjusted to Western life, and I'm still not quite the same (which is to be expected, I suppose).  I am now attending university, and I stay in touch with and others that I met in Rwanda.  I want to go back someday, both to work more, and to simply enjoy the beauty of the country.  Sooner than later, I will finally post an album of all my Rwanda photos, and I will post the link here when that happens.  

Thank you for reading this very-late account (that seems to be how I do a lot of things, actually) of my trip to Rwanda.  I hope you enjoyed it, or were touched by it, or were changed by it.  (I am breaking every public-speaking rule with this conclusion.)  May God be with you as He is with the Rwandans.  :)

Rwanda, post number 12 (April 3rd)

April 3, 2010; 2.17 CST

I am waiting to go play soccer and fighting with my Zune ... I do not want to play soccer: I am tired, and feel ill,  and do not wish to run around.  Maybe I can bow out.  In any case I need to change. 

Yesterday was very much a downtime day.  I was fine to work in the afternoon, but they had already finished all the shelves.  So I read and stuff. 

In the evening, the teachers went out for dinner and the Visionaries came around again.  We ate fairly late (8-ish), and then I started talking with one of the girls, Uwamahoro Justine.  We talked about easy stuff for a while, then she started telling me her story. 

[I have excised my recounting of her story in the interests of privacy on the Internet.  All I shall say here is that] I am honoured to be able to help such an amazingly brave and strong woman.

I need to change.  I am feeling slightly better, and will perhaps be able to run.  If not I can cheer.  I am not the only one who is not super-down with playing soccer, but hey.

April 3, 2010; 14.34 CST

Soccer went okay – we only lost 4-1 instead of 14-0 and we played pretty well.  I played defence for a good fifteen minutes and did a fair job.  Lots of fun was had.  Some of us taught the kids that were hanging around how to throw Frisbees, though we didn’t get to play Ultimate.  We did a quick baseball lesson after the soccer game, which had to be quick because the soccer game had started an hour later than it should have and we were already late for lunch. 

Excella High is at the bottom of the hill that the Centre César is on.  Meaning that we had to climb all the way up the hill to the inn after the soccer game in the scorching heat.  And it was scorching.  And none of us had water, really, since so many of us had drunk all the water we had during the game and there were no more bottles.  I got through the long walk by my tried-and-true method of mind over matter: I pretended, quite simply, that I was a Spartan-II.  And it worked – I got to the inn very warm, but otherwise totally fine.  I rested a bit and downed about three-quarters of a litre of water, and was good to go. 

We ate, Caroline and I started a chess game, and then we all went straight back to the Centre for the farewell ceremony.  Luc and Sandrine spoke for us briefly, thanking everyone involved; M Raval spoke briefly and got a little teary when he thanked Maman Nicole; Maman Nicole spoke; Dodou and the Visionaries gave our group a wood carving of Rwanda being held in several hands and a banana-leaf plate as thanks and a souvenir; Raymond gave Maman Nicole a book called No Limits; Maman Nicole spoke again thanking Raymond; the widows did several traditional dances of thanks and farewell; then we sang Histoire d’Antan again; then we all made a line and said goodbye to all the widows and the Centre staff and the Visionaries that were there (murabeho, tuzongera – goodbye for now, see you next time), and they wished us a safe journey.  Lots of pictures were taken.

I will be sad Monday.  I will not be sad tomorrow.  I am always sad the day after everything – it might not be until Tuesday.

We headed back to the inn and had dinner, and Caro and I continued our chess game.  She plays very conservatively whereas I am used to John’s aggressive style, so it was a very interesting game and I only won because I distracted her for long enough so that she could not make a move that would have totally messed me up.  Very interesting game on the whole.

Now fighting with my Zune again.  Have showered so am clean for the plane.  Nearly packed – just my pyjamas to put in from tonight, and my pillow, and my foam mat and my towel which is hanging to dry – oh and my sandals.  And then to quickly pack my carryon and all will be well.  I have wrapped all the fragile souvenirs in several layers of cloth and clothing but will be praying all the way home for them to reach Winnipeg safely.

Home soon.  Family soon.  I’ve determined my order of hugs: my sisters first, then Ben if he wants a hug, then Mom, then John.  And then I suppose anyone else who has come to say welcome back.

Rwanda, post number 11 (April 2nd)

April 2, 2010; 2.26 CST

I did not end up writing about the 1^st yesterday evening because I ended up having a rather long conversation.  I decided I would just sleep afterwards and catch up later.  However, I did not sleep well at all – my stomach decided to start seriously acting up, instead of just the little spasms that had been happening all day, and I tossed and turned all night, very much in pain.  Also I am sick of smelling smoke, cigarette or garbage or whatever wood they burn here.  It makes me even sicker and it is always around.  As long as I lay on my right side it is better, since that makes everything move where it is supposed to.  It gets tiring though, and to use my laptop I lay on my back, which hurts but which is much more efficient. 

As a result of all this I am staying at the inn today, at least for the morning.  We’ll see how I feel after lunch, if I can go and work or not.  It is sort-of nice to not have to do anything, but also frustrating that I can’t go out and work ... although I’m sick of working, so I suppose it kind of works out.  Also I’d rather get better now and miss some stuff than be sick on the plane and when I get home.

We spent yesterday morning working with the daycare kids, this time out in their playground (which is just a triangle of green space a little ways down the road from the daycare).  We played circle games with them for a while, a sort of version of Duck Duck Goose and a sort of version of Red Rover, and then we just played with them in general – soccer balls and small footballs, skip ropes and cat’s-cradle cords, the like.  

We then brought them back to the Centre where they did some dancing upstairs and we fed them a rice and spinach concoction (which sometimes had fish in it, or carrots), which they gobbled up for the most part (even the fish heads in some cases).  The girl I helped, Nicole, was happy to eat, and found me very funny when I suggested the food go in her nose or her ear or her knee or such.  She played along after a while and we laughed together.  I told her ura sekeza (you’re funny) and she said I was too; eventually she started saying na haze, which I figured meant “I’m full”, and when I asked Rodrigue, I was right.  After food, they danced some more, and then we left.

We also got to give Eric (the employee of the Centre who just lost his brother-in-law) our gift yesterday morning.  He was very quiet but I think grateful – I have noticed that Rwandans seem to be very calm when one gives them gifts, or thanks them for a gift they have given.  When I gave Rodrigue the $50 USD Dad gave me to give to something that was worth it (I thought The Visionaries would do just fine), he was not vocally grateful about it and seemed kind of aloof actually; when I thanked him for buying me the gift he did, he was again rather aloof.  Eric was fairly reserved too, though I guess for different reasons.  The only exception I have seen to this is Igor, who stood up at the dinner table the other night and thanked Janelle profusely for singing La Vie En Rose on the boat the other day, and explained the whole affair of how to thank someone for a gift in Rwandan culture; perhaps I am not thanking properly.

In the afternoon we were supposed to go play soccer, baseball and Ultimate at the nearby high school (Excella High), but as we couldn’t get the field until 16.30, we came back to the inn for a bit of downtime.  Unfortunately for the downtime plan, we all got called to come share our experiences, mostly about Gisouzi.  Many of us did not feel up for it or did not feel like we had anything to say, but as we went around the circle we started getting more and more emotional.  

About a quarter of the way through the circle it started raining (I have to find another shirt now that I left on the line and that has been taken in somewhere; I got the other two back), and by a third of the way around it was pouring rain, so much so that when it got to me (I was maybe two-thirds around), no one could hear me over the rain, even if I fairly yelled.  At that point we stopped and went to our rooms for real downtime, and as it didn’t stop raining all afternoon we did not go to play sports.  I am not terribly down about that since I would not have played much anyway.  I ended up listening to music with Roxanne for a while (and driving Caroline and Andrée nuts since we sang along), and then on my own and packing.  I am fairly impressed: everything will fit just fine and I will probably have room for some pens if needed.  Everything will be well-padded and quite under the weight limit, I think, since there are two large items I have put in that are very light, even if they take up a lot of space, and the clothing is distributed between the two suitcases.

We had supper fairly late (19.30-ish I think), and then we had a circle with the Visionaries, a sort of spiritual reflection on what we’ve been thinking the past couple weeks.  Raymond read a few passages from a book he has been reading, not based on any religion in particular, and we commented on them.  I disagreed from a Christian standpoint with a few things that were said, but agreed in principle with much of it, and spoke my thoughts on agape in the Rwandan community.  The atmosphere was kind of awkward, since I think many in the CL-R community are of no particular faith or are atheist, and the Rwandans traditionally are very religious, mostly Christian and partially Muslim.  Our cultures’ attitudes towards spirituality are very different. 

After the circle, music started playing and we were supposed to dance – I started talking with one of the Visionaries, Samrey, instead, and found out where he was living (here in Kigali), where he was going to school and what for (Masaka, at St. Emmanuel School, to become an engineer A1 (just below A0, the highest rank)), and that he had a sort of girlfriend (Christine, going to the same school and living in Kimironko, and yes he wants to marry her so he’s going through the whole process, but unfortunately he is rather poor and is kind of stuck).  We also talked about seasons (there are two seasons that repeat in Rwanda every three months – rainy and dry) and other such things, and then he brought me over to the dance floor and explained a little bit about the band that was playing at the moment.  

I danced a little bit, but felt kind of awkward, so I slipped out and went to talk to the teachers for a bit about nothing in particular (mostly Customs stuff and how the next couple days would go), then went to my room.  It was at that point that Myriam started asking me questions and the conversation started; it went fairly late and I just went to sleep after that.