Raindrops on roses

A handful of concerned emails urging me to hang in there – while very nice, thank you – have convinced me that I should probably clarify that I do in fact LIKE being here and living my current life. I probably should have balanced my gripes with good stories, I see now. I feel like a politician qualifying a public complaint: “No no, I never meant to say that I don’t like corn from Iowa, I just meant, ah… I don’t eat it much… but really, it’s great… and so are cornhuskers!”

So here it is: Proof. A little collection of things that make Burundi (and the past two weeks) quite pleasant.

1. Dancing. So far I’ve been to two fantastic events that were in part so fantastic because of the dancing involved. The first was this big festival of peace that took place at a huge church in Bujumbura – the whole ceremony was in Kirundi so a very nice guy that I had must met translated for me. It was basically a bunch of different choruses and dancing groups and a few skits about redemption and good-person-qualities and it lasted way too long but the singing and dancing were quite lovely. The other event was a dote, which is the engagement party where one announces the negotiation of the dowry paid by the husband to the bride’s family. It was outside of Bujumbura about a 2 hour car ride up into the mountains. (The car ride itself was a whole experience that I’m still processing.) The family hosting the dote was crazy rich (the bride’s dad makes nails – and he must either make really good ones or a lot of them) and so there were performers there: drummers, singers, and dancers. The dancing was livelier here than at the church, the women jumped and fell and swooped their bodies to whistles and shouts. Part of me wants to be Marie Garlock so I can tell them “I’m a dancer too!” and then they would trust me and I could teach them and they could teach me and we could share our dancerliness. But since I’m not Marie but I am in love with the way their bodies move, I’m going to have to find some other way.

2. People. I want to take the time to properly introduce you to the people I’m growing more and more crazy about. They’re interesting and funny and smarter than me and most of them have funny ways of talking. These include Burundians and expats (Americans and other foreigners based here for work) even though, as I plan to explain in another post, the expat community still freaks me out. So until the details emerge, trust that the people I’ve met have been the highlight of everything so far.

3. The beach. I went to the beach for the first time yesterday with a bunch of young expats. We went to the nice one a little out of town, Le Club du Lac Tanganyika, where wealthy foreigners lounge around the pool and saunter from the tennis courts to the massage rooms to the shore. (Voila a peek at why expats freak me out.) It turns out lake beaches are a lot like real beaches, complete with sand and waves and bikinis and everything. We played ultimate and did handstands and swam in the lake and it’s the second deepest lake in the world and what’s awesome about swimming in a lake is that the water that gets in your face isn’t salty. Though you have to be careful swimming there because there are man-eating crocodiles in it. And I’m going to get to play on the beach until well into October.

4. Work! One day I won’t be an antsy 10-year-old who can’t sit still for 5 minutes, or even a presumptive 21-year-old who assumes that she knows enough for other people to trust her with responsibility. As my last posts attest, those aren’t true just yet, (though the second one changes next Monday, as luck – and my birth – would have it). The BLTP site is getting built and getting cooler and even more importantly, I’m soon going to have much less to do with it. AND I sat down with Liz today and we walked through how I’m going to start with my main project here, which is an evaluation of their trainings with the National Police Force. *Squeak: yay!* We made to-do lists and set deadlines and talked about methodology and discussed Adrian’s recommendations and it was heavenly. I’m smiling now with my loaded docket and giddy as Hermione with homework.

5. Running. I know. I almost don’t believe it myself. But I think I’ve finally found something that helps counteract the agony and silliness of putting your feet in front of each other quickly for a long time even after your body wants to stop and die. I get it from big groups of runners, I get it from the security guard outside the EU representative’s home, I get it from people waiting at the Coca-Cola stand bus stop, and sometimes I get it from little kids. It is the Bon Courage. The wish of strength that’s offered to me as I pass by Burundians, usually in shock and always amused, at a white girl running alone through Bujumbura. In the context, Bon Courage translates basically as “Keep It Up,” and people offer the well wishes in response to my cherry-red face that discloses just how un-used I am to running on these hills. The hills suck. Of course not everyone is so nice, there are the honkers and the hecklers and they suck too. But sometimes someone looks up, sees me, does a double-take, cracks a smile, and encouragingly Bon Courage-s me and it’s pretty cool. That, and when kids that jump in to run with me for a bit until I tire them out. I like outlasting little kids.

I’m sure I’ll post less frequently in the future but I’m so backlogged with thoughts right now anyway that I’m trying to clear some out while I still can. I MUST soon write something substantial about things that make Burundi Burundi. I’ll pretend to justify the delay in the idea that I’m not qualified yet anyway to accurately represent it.

But in sum, things are good. Full Picasa album of photos coming soon.