"I think maybe they are looking at you because your skin is somehow a little different." -P

Happy New Year! I hope all of your holidays were great. My apologies for the delay in posting. Moving to site has proven to be quite the involved process.

Before I get to that, though, I want to thank all of you who sent me Christmas love, whether through mail, email, Facebook, or gifts! Mom had a Christmas party for me before I left, and it was so nice to have that stocking to go through on Christmas morning in Nyanza. Thank you so much to all of you who contributed; know that it absolutely made my Christmas!

I reached Mukarmira on Monday, December 28th, but Tuesday is the day that really warrants documentation.

It was a chilly, rainy morning. I was outside playing ‘slap the tennis ball back to the twenty kids gathered around my porch’ and having a generally good first morning at site. A boy of about 14 or 15 came by to greet me, and I asked him to show me where people get water. “No problem,” he says. Off we go, slipping and sliding up and down rocky hills, a solid group of children/spectators following closely behind. About ten minutes into the walk, he says, “Those are soldiers. There’s a military camp over there.” I vaguely remember reading something about a military camp in Mukamira in my Bradt guide, so this information is not too alarming. When we arrive at the water, though, he says, “Those are soldiers. They want to talk to you.”

This is one of those moments when literally more things go through your mind in an instant than you can normally process in several minutes. It basically came down to this: is it more stupid to go to soldiers that want to talk to me, or not to go to soldiers that want to talk to me? I went. The conversation was surprisingly pleasant, and a number of them were genuinely interested in what brought me to Rwanda and, specifically, to this place. I was very surprised, then, when several minutes into the conversation, I was denied permission to go home. Now queue the most awkward water-works you’ve ever seen. Awesome.

At the end of it all, I was with the soldiers for about an hour and was finally informed by a superior that I had followed my guide right through the military camp along a short-cut that they only allow kids getting water to take. Can you imagine if you just appeared out of nowhere on a military base in the States? No wonder. The man kindly walked me back to the main road via the road that comes into the camp and showed me exactly where I could enter should I decide to come back to get water.

Great first impression on my part, right? I have to say that the soldiers were all very kind and never once did anything even remotely threatening. They tried to convince me not to cry and even offered me an umbrella when the rain got heavier. It was only as dramatic as I made it, which was largely due to the fact that I had managed to convince myself that I had set the mark for getting sent home at a record 24 hours after being left at site. Regardless, it will be quite some time before I even look that direction again and I am more thankful now than ever that the Director of my school has hired someone to bring me water.

I rang in the New Year in Kigali with six other trainees and missed all of you so much. Still do, of course.

I haven’t started taking pictures at site yet because I don’t want to stick out even more than I already do, so please bear with me for a short time while all I have to share are words.

Also, if I owe you an email, it's coming soon!