New Perspectives

Psalm 19:1-3 says, “The Heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech. Night after night they display knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard.”

This post is all about things God has allowed me to see and learn during our short time here. With all of the differences in culture, lifestyle, language and otherwise, there is still no speech or language where God’s radiant light is not seen and his voice not heard. What an encouragement.

I will start with stories that have given me new perspectives - sometimes like a nudge and sometimes like a slap in the face. My first example is during our move from Matt and Andrea’s home to the home we are renting here in Musanze. We were slowly migrating our belongings over multiple days. This involved taking a car of one of the teachers at VVA (an automatic, because I still cannot drive a manual) during morning school hours, driving it to Matt’s, packing it up as best I could with John Valor in tow, then transporting it to our new house, unpacking, etc.

This particular day was very sunny and hot, and I was frustrated. I had my “nice school clothes” on during this endeavor and JV was especially crazy. I was sweating and the car had no air conditioner. I pulled out of Matt’s driveway with the nice guard opening the door for me and waving goodbye with a smile, as always. As I’m driving up the bumpy road, I’m grumbling to myself, “Ugh, it’s so hot! I’m sweating!” or something like that. Just as those words exit my mouth, I come upon a Rwandan lady walking on the road toward me carrying a baby strapped to her back with about 15 sugar cane poles on her head, wearing sandals.

Wow. That was more than a nudge. Where is her car? Wonder if her baby was especially crazy today? I’m guessing she’s probably sweating…a lot. I bet she doesn’t have a guard to help her in and out of her gated home.

She smiles at me and gives me the Rwandan eyebrow raise (also known as a way to acknowledge another person, or say yes - more to come on this!). No more grumbling came from me that day, at least. I do admit my memory fails me and I need reminders DAILY of these little blessings. I have a car to drive. I don’t have to carry sugar cane to sell at the market to make a few dollars to buy food for my family. I don’t have to farm the ground to grow the food that I eat. I have nice clothes. And so on.

We moved in to our new place and have had the blessing of meeting two men who work as our guards at our home. Guards and house helpers here are a normal part of life and culture. Many homes here have gates and grounds (plants, etc.) that guards keep and manage. We met our day guard, Victor, through a family closely connected to Matt and Andrea. He speaks some English which is a great blessing. Our night guard is a kind man named Placide who is always greeting us and saying thank you. They both have families - wives and 2-3 children. We asked about how much they should be paid from others who know the culture and “normal” wages here. We also asked the guards themselves. We negotiated a rate for the day guard (the guard who manages the other guards) of 90,000 Rwandan Francs per month. That’s about 85 U.S. dollars per month. Night guards get paid less - about 75,000 Rwandan Francs per month or 70 U.S. dollars per MONTH.

Those numbers flew in and out of my brain until a couple of things occurred on the days that followed. One was a discussion about buying frozen chicken here among some ex-pat’s including myself. We were conjecturing on where is the best place - is it Zamura Feed or the frozen chicken in freezers at the grocery store? There’s also an app that delivers groceries for you here - and they sell frozen chickens for about $12 per chicken. But Zamura is sometimes cheaper, like $10 per chicken for 3 kg chicken…. (continue to pretend you hear the chatter in the conversation.)

The next day, Thom and I decide to support a local hotel called Karisimbi Cave Resort which has opened under management of a lady local to Musanze and was asking ex-pats and others to come for a brunch. This would be a practice run for their kitchen and service staff. We went with our family and one of the other teachers, Maria. They had a large spread of drinks, pancakes, breads, spreads, cheese, and fruits. They served eggs benedict and other items. It was delicious and a fun experience. We get to the bill and it’s 75,000 Rwandan Francs. When we were driving home I felt a SLAP. Wait, wasn’t that the total monthly salary for Placide?

Reality has started to set in now. One chicken is a huge sacrifice for MOST people here to pay for. Meat is definitely only for special occasions. (Beef is another whole topic and even more special.) A nice brunch almost never happens for most families - families like us who have a mom, dad, and 3 kids. These things are mulling over in my mind as the days pass. A few days later, I passed a Rwandan lady (again) on the road holding a dead chicken, feathers and all, walking next to the car. She looked rugged and tough - a strong lady carrying this dead rooster likely to either sell or take home to save for their meat for the month. It reminded me of how much of a luxury it is to eat meat in excess like I’ve been accustomed to. I’ll be honest that I have almost never thought of this as a luxury while living in the U.S.

I’d be amiss if I didn’t shout out again to my stepdad, Ron. Ron, I still think of you every time I see a chicken. Ron also reminds me of his frequent stories about life in Alabama back many years ago when you had to chase your chicken to catch, then kill, feather, cook, and eat it. He also tells stories about fetching water from the creek to take baths. This leads me to the next big lesson on perspective. Water.

Oh, water. I feel so silly even telling this story, because again, so many in Africa are used to the travails of water outages. But I am not, apparently. We came home one day last week and made dinner. After eating, we found that the water was no longer on. We live on a road near the main highway and also near the main water line. We were told that water rarely goes out where we live. Well, tonight it was out. We stacked up the dishes and continued on with the night as best we could.

We walked into the bathrooms and kept doing that thing where you turn on the faucets over and over because you keep forgetting that the water is not working. Every time you audibly say, “Oh, yeah!” or for me, “Oh man!” because usually it’s right after you used the bathroom and flushed the last load of water in the tank of the toilet. Now you’re looking around for how to wash your hands. We continued this process through nighttime routines and finally got to bed, praying the water would be on in the morning.

(By the way, having HOT water is a whole other post and another topic. It involves turning on water heaters, hoping they work, waiting, then being quick about showers….but I won’t talk about this now.) So, we woke up the next day and…no water. We then went outside to get some water from the rainwater storage tank to use for washing dishes or hands. I started boiling some water on the stove. We thankfully had some drinking water in our large filter but were running out quickly. Thom walked outside to collect the rainwater. It was around 6am and we were just standing there in the backyard together thinking out loud about things like, “what if the water doesn’t come back for a few days?” and “how do we use the bathroom?” “I don’t even have hand sanitizer!” “Wonder if we could go back and use Matt’s showers?” This discussion continued until Placide walked up and said, “Mr. Thom. No water! I go out and get jelly-can.” A what? It sounded like “pelican” with a j. But after a few more tries, we realized he was saying jerrycan.

Oh, are those the big yellow jugs that so many are carrying on bikes or in their hands around the roadways? (It takes me a while to catch on, sometimes.) Yes, we had none of these and this was the way to get fresh, clean water when you have no running water. Placide then convinced us that we actually needed 15 of these cans. At first we thought that was a lot, but he apparently it’s normal to have at least 20 of them. So we gave him about 20,000 Francs and off he went.

That day, many of our teachers were chatting on WhatsApp about if others were out of water and if the school was out of water. The answer was yes and yes. There was a main water line that was being repaired (we found out later) and it would take likely all day to repair. The school had no water, but there were some reserve tanks, apparently. As for flushing toilets, cooking, washing hands, etc. the staff would be able to carry cans to refill all of the toilets, cook and wash with just water they collect in the cans. No worries at all - everything goes on as normal. I couldn’t help but think that such an issue would close a school in the U.S. No water usually means no school.

This is apparently a normal thing - very normal. There are some things that just happen here, and you get used to it. Power goes out more, so you have candles and “torches” (flashlights). Cars break down. Restaurants take a long time and don’t always get your order correct. Water just stops sometimes. You just know how to manage without running water if you live here. I knew this in my head, but it’s not until you experience it (even briefly) that you understand that many people in the world do actually live without running water and live perfectly normal lives. They just fill their cans at the community water collection site and that’s it. (Side note that drinking filtered water is important, so many have large filters in their homes.)

By that evening, there was still no water. As we stood in the kitchen cooking, I started to hear a drip. It had been about 24 hours - that was all. Regardless, that drip was a wonderful sight to behold. Showers! Flushing! Washing hands! Yaaay!

African life has taught me so much already in the 2 months here. One last story is briefly about our trip to Kigali this past weekend. Kigali is the capital city of the country of Rwanda - the largest city with the most resources, restaurants, shops, etc. Many here in Musanze travel to Kigali to buy products not available here including foods like beef, bacon, and good breads. We traveled there with our truck, 2 coolers, and 2 big trunks on top of the car to fill and bring back. What we discovered was more lessons on perspective. This likely should be its own post, as the story is full of car troubles, normalcies of African hotels, and what is defined a “short” or “long” walk to dinner. We also had the BEST coffee experience at Question coffee shop, probably my favorite part of the trip (below).

We started near downtown at what’s called the “Chinese store” (called T-2000) which was like a big 2-story Dollar General full of cheaper items for the home, crafts, appliances, clothes, etc. Our friend from VVA, Jean Baptiste (aka JB), met us there to help us through the day. We walked through downtown, passing small shops of various items that were lower in price. Later that same day we drove to Kigali Heights, a nice shopping center near to the Convention Center. It’s here that JB commented on how expensive everything was - and he was right. They had an ice cream shop there that was great - “the best in Rwanda” an ex-pat told us. JB had never had ice cream. He enjoyed it, but was taken aback and somewhat disgusted by the enormous difference in cost of the things in this place versus most other places in Kigali and Rwanda. The differences in class and wealth are seen everywhere, I suppose. This place that felt more like “home” than the streets of downtown Kigali was a place that felt quite foreign to JB and others who were not used to the niceties that come with wealth.

This was just another reminder of our blessings that we have been given - blessings of education, being born in and raised in a wealthy and privileged country, and parents with education and means to help us with school, which led us to great universities and jobs and careers. We have so much. There are so many other people who have so little. My job now is to remember this fact and keep the right perspective: to stay thankful for all of the blessings I have, to use what I’ve been given to lift others up, and to give sacrificially in order to bless others.

“The heavens declare the glory of God….There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard.” Despite all of the cultural and class differences in our country and in our world, we all see and hear the same glory of God through His creation and His people. We are all His creation - we are all made in His image. May we love one another as He loved us, celebrating our differences while lifting one another up, listening to the perspectives of others, and keeping a heart of service and humility. May we always be grateful.