Hanging out in Rwanda

Hey there readers.

I am writing this in the capital city of Kigali, at the house of some World Venture missionaries that we had a random connection with, so we're staying with them.

We got to have dinner with the entire World Venture Rwanda field last night, which was fun. They are good folk, and they were grilling us on our plans, and kidding around with about having a great place for us to come back to and plug in to. It was encouraging to be seen as a potential good fit for missions on their field, whether or not we end up anywhere near Africa.

Ellie and I rode the bus for 11 hours on sunday to get here, which was exhausting to say the least. It was quite an experience on many levels, in terms of facing death in the form of the oncoming truck vs. the cliff edge, being the only muzungus (white people) on the bus, (it being the budget form of transport), getting checked for ebola, and spending the first couple of hours trying not to lose my stomach out the window. As our missionary friend in Kampala says, "riding the bus does wonders for your prayer life." And it does.

We saw the genocide memorial in Kigali, which is hard to explain. More on that another time. Today we woke up very early to drive to Nyaruguru, which is the district that the kids that HHBC sponsor are located in. It was a long day, but good. We have lots of fun and amazing pictures. The country is strikingly beautiful. "The land of a 1000 hills and a 1000 smiles." The hills are hard to explain, and even in pictures it doesn't do them justice.

Being white (muzungu) out in the country is an interesting experience. In the city, most people and kids know enough english to ask you for money, or they just stare. In the country, the kids go nuts. MUZUNGU! MUZUNGU! MUZUNGU! They run after the car, wave, and in the case of one very cute little boy, just jump up and down in place shrieking MUZUNGU! It is strange to be a complete and total novelty to people. When we were riding the bus, one girl reached out and rubbed my (john's)arm and whispered "muzungu." I later found out it was probably because white people have arm hair, and africans generally do not.

When we got the same school that Mike and Ken went to, the children flock around us like iron filings on a magnet, in a way that is almost disturbing. You feel like 'i do not deserve any special attention' but they heap it on you in spades, both the kids and the WV staff. We were in one classroom interacting with them, asking them trivia in exchange for candy, and by the time we were finishing, the other 600 kids in the school were trying to force their way in the door and windows.

There are so many stories to tell, but I need to fix the Bennet's computer and watch some Andy Griffith with the kids. More another day, when we get more regular access to Internet.

Tomorrow we visit the mid-high compassion child, and we go to New Hope back in Uganda on the 4th.

Ta-Ta for now

Peace