I'm still the Center of the Universe right?

Due to my sister’s impending arrival, I will not be blogging for a while, possibly not for the whole month of July as is my habit over the holidays. So I thought it best to satisfy the international insatiable appetite for news of my sojourns with a day in the life of moi, because seriously what could be more interesting?
I wake up in the morning at six without fail because my bed is in the back of the house. Also in the back of the house are the neighbors who wake up at six to fill up their jerry cans with water from the spicket because that is usually the only time it is running. My water bill is now over two hundred dollars and hasn’t been paid in months so that’s the story behind the lack of water and electricity but we’ll get to that later.

I get up with trepidation, in anticipation of what bug/rodent will avenge me on this particular morning. More often then not it’s just a cockroach, which seem to have been taking immense comfort from the coolness of my concrete floors lately. Then I make my tea, on the stove now, since my house-friend broke my beloved kettle and apparently thinks it’s the funniest thing in the world as she listed off all the broken things in my house and laughed hysterically. “Radiyo! Toilette! Kettle! Hahahaahah!” Yes Alodie positively hilarious. She is my 3rd best friend in Nyanza though and she buys me bananas and passion fruit that I eat for breakfast so naturally I forgive her.

Between eight and nine I head for school. Hands down this is my favorite part of the day. The cute little nursery school children that used to cautiously approach me and offer their hand now see me in the distance and start sprinting toward me with their arms spread wide and give me a huge hug and say “Good Morning teacha!” It’s the greatest way to start off the day. And where there used to be about five who did it now, if I time it right, there are at least twenty. My boys have caught on to the hugging thing also and think it’s obligatory so now even the older ones give me especially awkward hugs when I see them.

If I get to school too early or too late I have to walk the gauntlet. I try to time it so I arrive after the students are in class but if I don’t I have 700 eyes on me as I walk through the middle of the courtyard. I literally have nightmares about tripping on the gravel, but so far so good. I can only recognize about 50% of my students outside of class so I say hi to everyone just to be safe. I teach English and Computers. English goes well mostly because we sing and watch movies and have debates so I think it’s generally regarded as free time but so long as they’re speaking English I don’t care. Computers is an absolute nightmare. 50 students 5 computers and all of a sudden I’m not a secondary school teacher but a primary one. Jean de Dieu isn’t supposed to be in our group, or Bertrand won’t let me have a turn, or Marcelline always gets to go first! Lately I’ve been going with, if they have a computer problem ask me, a social problem talk to the chief of the class.

After teaching I go visit with Agnes, the secretary/my best Rwandan girlfriend, and check my e-mail which lately has been underwhelming at best (ahem). Then I either eat rice and beans for lunch with Yves and co or I go home and cook some variety of pasta. Lately I’ve been a big fan of tuna pasta salad, which I consider one of my specialties, although anyone else who has ever tried is completely disgusted with it, I like to think it’s a cultural thing.

In the afternoon, my poubelle boys come and we play soccer or when they are feeling especially adorable they start chanting, “kwiga!” which means learn in Kinyarwanda and we do English lessons. I just love them. I usually go back to school to do I.C.T after school since it’s hard to accomplish anything with only two hours per week. I come back home to make dinner and usually have some type of visitor. Generally it’s Yves or Adrien but my neighbors have really seemed to take a liking to our awkward visits where they come in, sit for five minutes unable to communicate anything, and then leave. Alodie also comes at night to clean, or bring me food and I got her an English-Kinyarwanda book which we read together and drink tea. She’s really great minus the clumsiness.

So now I’m sitting here writing this and Alodie has just left, Yves isn’t in town and Adrien is busy taking pictures, of goodness knows what and like clockwork the electricity goes out. For the past two weeks every night at 7:30 my stupid power has been cut and apparently it’s because the same company controls the power and the water and since my school has not been paying the water bill the company has been cutting my power. Which is just plain mean to do at night considering I am terrified of the dark or more specifically the creepy crawlies that lurk within it. It’s almost eight and now instead of marking exams which is what I really should be doing I’m heading to bed, because in the pitch black the only thing that gives me comfort is my mosquito net which is like my magical cape of protection.

I like to think that my life is not so mundane as to limit it to this brief summary. But on the whole this is my reality, with subtle day to day variances that might make me seem a little more interesting at least I like to think so.