I had Christmas down in Africa

(Man, that Toto song in all its glory and many variations has endless use for this blog.)

I did, in fact, spend Christmas in Ruhengeri with my cousins and several other families. It started on the 23rd when the other teacher came over and we shared my absolute favorite Christmas movie, White Christmas, with my cousins. Can you believe they'd never seen it before?! I couldn't either. The evening was spent with everyone laughing, and they have since continued quoting some of Danny Kaye's perfectly hilarious lines.

It continued on Christmas Eve. We went to church to see the Christmas Eve performance/concert/I have no idea what it was because it was all in Kinyarwanda. There were a number of choirs all singing what I'm guessing were Christmas-related songs. They definitely mentioned Jesus a lot, and I could understand that part. There was a long play (Moses explained parts of it to me, but I still didn't really get it). I was told that there was a reference to Jack and Rose on the Titanic because apparently Titanic is a really popular movie here. Who would have thought... Regardless of weather or not I could understand it, it is something else to hear stories of a most gracious and wonderful God in a different language. Really hits home that He is a global God to be praised even in a place that has experienced so much pain.

Behold, a great multitude, which no one could count, from every nation and all tribes and peoples and tongues... Revelation 7:9

When we got home, Moses asked me how early he was allowed to wake me up in the morning. I answered him that the time didn't matter as long as that wake-up came with a hot mug of coffee. And indeed, Moses busted through the door at 7:10am singing (screaming) "MERRY CHRISTMAS, MERRY MERRY CHRISTMAS! I brought you coffee!" He put the coffee in my hands and allowed me curl myself around it and breathe in its delightful scent until I was capable of getting out of bed. One delicious breakfast of cinnamon rolls and fruit later, and we were opening presents with all the joy and wonder of every Christmas before, and I imagine, to come.

The rest of the morning and afternoon were spent quite lazily by me. I went for a walk and skyped my folks, which was absolutely wonderful. I got to see my dad in his best elf hat before he left for work (you better believe he took the hat with him... that man is awesome). Then, we all piled into the car to head over to the house of another American family here for a potluck Christmas dinner. We contributed the turkey (turkey round two) and both an apple and a sweet potato pie. The table also held a large roast, stuffing, green beans, two different gravies, a cake, Christmas cookies, and pasta salad. We may be in the boonies of Rwanda, but we absolutely nailed Christmas dinner! Dinner was followed by many carols and a wonderful round of White Elephant. The best gift at the party, you may ask? In my humble opinion, that would be the belt with Paul Kagame's face on the buckle. Don't worry: I'm definitely going to bring a few of those home.

So, I missed my friends and family terribly this holiday season, but I got to spend Christmas with my Musanze (the other name for Ruhengeri) family. We are a ragtag bunch, but we ended the evening by listening to someone sing O Holy Night really terribly, so that counts as really awesome, right?

Durban, Pt. 1

I spent this past week in Durban, South Africa with some of the most wonderful people I know. In case you were wondering how I have friends in South Africa, let me explain: this ridiculously cool couple traveled for the first few years of their marriage, and one of their many stops was Ontario Pioneer Camp the summer that I was 16 and going through the LIT (Leaders in Training) program at camp. Tom was my small group leader and Jess was the leader of our sister group (which means that we went on canoe trip together). I tried to find a picture of that summer, but it takes an absurd amount of time to go back and stalk myself on facebook until the pictures of me when I was 16. Basically, I had braces and long hair. Tom and Jess both had longer hair, too. Needless to say, it was a good time.

We went on a steam train ride through the countryside, which was awesome. Dad had to remind me that I have indeed ridden a steam train before, but I don't remember it because I was three. I saw some of the sights, like the Moses Mabhida stadium, built for the World Cup and still in use today. We went up on the cable car to the top of its arch, and I went on the tour of the stadium to see the inside, the field, and learn more about its many uses and functions. Mabhida was a freedom fighter in the same vein as Mandela. He was exiled around the same time as Mandela was imprisoned and unfortunately died before he was able to return to South Africa.

 

Me and my chacos enjoying the view

There was a turf ring around the field of real grass.

(Totally reminded me of the turf fields at UNC.)

The stadium arch reflect the Y in the South African flag.

I swan in the Indian Ocean, which brings my tally of "oceans in which I have swum" to 3. Get in there Indian Ocean! Join your friends the Pacific and the Atlantic! I got a Red Cappuccino, which is a shot of rooibos tea (put through the machine just as if it were coffee) instead of a shot of espresso in the cappuccino. Delicious!

Obligatory picture of hot beverage

(this is for you, Carolyn)

I even saw whole troops of monkeys run across the backyard and hop through the trees. There were baby monkey holding so tightly to their moms' tummies as the moms jumped from tree to tree. They would entwine their little tails on their moms' tails. It reminded me of so many stories my mom told me of her pet monkeys growing up.

There is a baby monkey in the middle of this picture. See if you can find it.

More than anything I saw or did, I got to spend time with Jess and Tom, their two amazing boys, and various members of Jess's family. I got to see Tom preach at church and remember all those wonderful talks we had by the fire when he was my leader. I got to catch up with Jess and remember the advice and encouragement she gave me as we talked to pass the time on long portages. I got some much needed mom hugs from Jess's mom. I got lovingly teased about my Southern-ness by Jess's dad. I was called sweetie, sweetheart, and darling. (Seriously, I thought southerners were all about hugs and terms of endearment, but we've got nothing on these people.) My heart was renewed. My cup runneth over.

There are two things that I can't help but acknowledge to be true: 1. Ontario Pioneer Camp is the greatest and has provided for me in ways that I can't even begin to count and that I will be realizing for the rest of my life, and 2. I can trace God's goodness and love for me through my relationships. From camp counselors to IV staff to employers to family friends to the most amazing women, God has put people in my life exactly when I needed them and carried so many of those ties through years and vast distances. It's hard to believe that I could be this blessed, but life proves it to be true.

My cup runneth over.

that day when I was in a Rwandan music video

Yeah. That happened. But, in order for this story to make sense, we have to go back to the beginning because that's where all good stories start.

Hannah turned 16 while she was away at school this semester, so we got to celebrate her Sweet 16 today by boating out to this island restaurant place (it isn't really on an island, but the best way for us to get there was by boat). Before we could even get on the boat, there was a Rwandan choir filming a music video on the shores of the lake. You best believe we got to be a part of that. It was basically a dream come true for me. They pulled us all over to join their ranks, and I mostly just smiled goofily because I didn't know the words (they were in Kinyurwanda). There were some hand motions and a sway that I was able to copy thanks to the woman next to me. It's like she knew that I wouldn't be able to maintain the beat, and she was constantly nudging me helpfully to make sure that I was with everyone else. That's a good friend who keeps you on beat whenever you seem to stray. Thanks to Moses and Lydia translating for me, I learned that the song was about how great it is to be with Jesus and how we are all walking together with Him. Too true.

Yeah. I did those actions.

Wish I had thought to wear more blue...

Everyone please join me in praying that we somehow gain access to that music video, that we can somehow find it because I really really want a copy. I promise to post it if we can find it.

This is the view from the shore before we got in the boat.

Hannah forgot to keep her eyes open.

Our food took a decent amount of time to make it out to the table, but there was a small TV in the restaurant where they were playing Nelson Mandela's memorial service. It was insane to see how many heads of state were there. I'm pretty sure we are watching Obama speak at this precise moment. It was neat to be in Rwanda watching my President speaking in South Africa. Then the food arrived. Beef brochettes and whole Tilapia. It was so delicious!

   

Totally nailed it.

And, in case anyone is wondering, we got another turkey. This one is for Christmas. I didn't know he was coming until he got here, so I was unable to name him for myself. As such, he is either Turk 2 or Christmas, which are the two names agreed upon by the family. I'll take it.

tree trekking

Today, I was privileged to join in on an age old tradition called going-to-the-hydrosite-to-cut-down-a-Christmas-tree. So, we all piled into the car and set off down that bumpy road of life to obtain a Christmas tree. I am a little sad not to be going to get the tree with Dad this year, but this was a whole new tree adventure, so I think it will be ok.

It started with a trek through the site to get to where the right type of tree was.

Then we had to select a tree with the proper width and height. 

Then the tree was sawed down and carried back up the hill to the canal so that we could walk it back.

And here is rests in the living room with its star precariously perched on top.

Tonight ended with a pot roast and me holding a fat baby named Elvis. 

I call that a win.

the Ruhengeri State Fair

You can ask anyone, I love the State Fair. I really love, love the State Fair. I just enough to get through the day without getting full to leave space for the caloric cornucopia that is the State Fair. I put on my favorite boots, spend all day getting hyped and talking it up to everyone around me, and then make the drive to Raleigh to participate in all the mulleted festivities. I walk through the large buildings to stare flabbergasted at the excessively large produce and fawn over hundreds of tiny, baby animals (especially the baby pigs which are cute beyond all reality). I walk into the tent where they let you actually hold the baby chicks. I eat my weight in sweet roasted nuts, kettle popcorn, fried oreos, roasted corn, turkey legs (that ambiguously may or may not be actually pork...), and wash it all down with an exceedingly large fresh squeezed lemonade. There are few things that could keep me from going to the State Fair. Just ask my roommates from last year: I will not be kept away.

It was sad this year when all my remaining in NC friends posted statuses and pictures from the State Fair, but Rwanda came through for me in the form of the Ruhengeri Expo. The Expo, or, as I like to call it, the Ruhengeri State Fair, is a time when so many groups, from the biggest phone companies to individuals selling crafts, all set up booths in the stadium here. I could see and smell some food and there was even one of the swing rides where it spins and everyone has their own swing. It may not have been as grand as the one at the NC State Fair, but it was there. I watched a demonstration of a vegetable cutter from Pakistan that could even waffle cut potatoes (aka Where is Chick-fil-a because I am hungry?), I saw some dancers performing to advertise for MTN (a phone company), and I saw so many awesome handicrafts. I love a good craft fair.

So, it may not have been my beloved State Fair, but the Expo was certainly something.

a eulogy for Little Richard

I'll get to Little Richard's rather timely end in a second. First, I must tell you all that the crisis has been averted. There is no longer anything to worry about. I got my burrito fix on Friday. That's right, we were in Kigali to pick up the three oldest kids from the airport, and we went to lunch at Meze Fresh, a restaurant owned by an American in Kigali and modeled after Chipotle. It was the most delicious, burrito-y taste of home. It was like a dream.

Because the kids got into Kigali on Friday night, we delayed our Thanksgiving celebration until Saturday dinner. We returned from Kigali to find Little Richard in the fridge. As Caleb Senior brandished the bagged, cold body, I had to sit down quickly (this was due more to the site of blood than any moral convictions I had about the situation). I actually didn't feel badly in the slightest about consuming him. He was mean as he lived and delicious as he died. That's about all you can hope for. I composed a eulogy Haiku in his honor:

You died gracefully

Pass the cranberry sauce, please

Get in my belly

He paired excellently with mashed potatoes, green beans, stuffing, and pumpkin pie. He was even tasty the second day as we made him into sandwiches for brunch this morning. It's the only way to do it. The house is much quieter without his constant squawking, and we all feel a little safer leaving navigating from the car to the house. Now I am being serenaded by the sweet sounds of Josh Groban and Nat King Cole as they sing the wonders of Christmas. It may be sunny and warm outside (which I totally prefer to winter), but nothing will stop this Christmas music train.