There is a sport of harassing Muzungus here in Kigali. Today I was walking alongside a shoe salesman. He carts around a backpack of shoes and sells them in the street. He just yelled muzungu at me for about 2 minutes. This is a grown adult we are talking about!

And things are moving here in Kigali. Chugging along. The weeks fleet by, I cannot understand this concept of time. An hour at the office can seem like a lifetime, but here I am, it is almost November.

I am spending some time at Project San Francisco, an HIV vaccine and testing research center. This is keeping my brain going and teaching me about the reality of contracting a virus like HIV. Imagine sitting in a chair in a tiny counselling room, holding an envelope that will tell you whether or not you have contracted a fatal illness. Imagine the emotions that wash over your mind – and imagine how they are played out on your face. That is what I am watching.

My work at the office has been hampered by a severe lightening storm that fried all our computers and the internet. With my research on income generation for PLWHA, I am out of the office a lot anyways. I have met so many organizations that do exactly the same things and never talk to each other. This problem plays itself out again and again in my life – I always notice the lack of communication. Communication is an infinite and intricate challenge.

Mud still cakes everything I own, but at least water doesn’t flood my floor everyday like in Melissa’s room. Poor girl. The rainy season continues. Everyday the road to my house becomes more and more nonexistant… and I wonder, who will fix it?

Sending all my love. Mom said on the phone last night that in February, I will feel like I’m home too soon and missing the Rwanda rollercoaster ride. I absolutely agree.


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