Monday, December 7, 2009
I'm learning
I never knew a lot about the Holy Spirit growing up, except hearing my Grandma talk about him, but it was always hard to follow her stories. :-) I love you Grandma! Right now, this year, this time in Rwanda, God has chosen to teach me so much about His Spirit, and how he moves in us. It's something I had always heard about growing up, but never really grasped how powerful the Holy Spirit really is. He has the power to heal, to totally transform, to renew, to build up beautiful things, and tear down ugly things! He's working in me this year, right now, in ways that I never felt comfortable with letting Him work before. Or maybe I just didn't think I could be used in certain ways. He can do all things! He really can. I keep thinking about that song Momma used to sing to us when we were little. I haven't thought about it in so many years....."He's still working on me. To make me what I ought to be.....How loving and patient He must be, He's still working on me." I am sooo thankful tonight that He's still working and teaching me new things every day. I have been so stubborn sometimes (all the time) in certain aspects of my life. Giving Him control of lots of things, but keeping some things strictly in my own possession and control. I won't do it anymore. I told Him today, everything, everything, everything is His. I'm sorry for those of ya'll reading this and you don't have a clue what I am saying. I think this entry is more for me than anyone else. But thanks for reading and for praying with me too. I looked up that song Momma sang us, and found the next verse. It begins..."There really ought to be a sign upon the heart, Don't judge her yet, there's an unfinished part. But I'll be perfect just according to His plan. Fashioned by the Master's loving hands." One of the ways I think God is teaching me about His Spirit right now is through certain books I've been reading. Books that I would never have picked up, but for some reason, I have, and the words have spoken to me. Before our rafting trip, I scanned our library for some random "thinkless" book to take on our 13 hour bus ride to Uganda. I found the perfect travel book to read...and tucked inside one of the yellowish pages was a copy of Psalm 91, neatly typed out. It was comforting. And the Holy Spirit had also put that Psalm on another teacher's heart too last week. Saturday, I went to this random yardsale at the Embassy and picked up another random book for $1. I had heard of this book, a love story that only God could write for two people, and I never bought it in the States...I thought it sounded too cheesy. But God wanted me to find it now and read it right now. I'm so sure about that. On every page there's assurance. I am just amazed at how God loves us and sticks with us even when we're so stubborn for 28 years. I am so stubborn. I feel like I am like a baby Christian again, learning about the Spirit, and giving Him this part of my life I hadn't before. His grace and His love are amazing. He's still working on me! Thank God!
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Jinja "Nile" pics
A beautiful tree
We saw the source!
Gorgeous view of Lake Victoria as it goes into the Nile
Whitewater on the Nile
9 daring teachers :-)Sunday, November 29, 2009
Jinja
This picture says it all. Jinja, Uganda is a sleepy little town, where no one is in a hurry. Instead of hassling you like they do in Kigali, the moto drivers just sleep on their bikes and wait for YOU to wake them up. :-) There's a fun laziness about this place, and it reminded me of a small southern town back home. On a Saturday morning families are strolling along Main Street, running errands at the small shops, eating lunch at a cafe, or just sitting outside on wooden benches watching the world pass by. Jinja has that peaceful, "chill" atmosphere to it. But because of its location....nestled on the banks of Lake Victoria, right at the source of the Nile River...Jinja has also earned a reputation for being East Africa's adventure capital. Since KICS is an American International School, we had a couple days off for Thanksgiving, and decided to travel to Jinja to whitewater raft the White Nile. It was an amazing opportunity, an amazing thrill...to be paddling on a river I've only just taught students about back home in America. Or you only see on National Geographic. We read Psalm 91 over and over before we set out. Comforting words. It was an adventure like no other! We paddled 30km, (roughly 19 miles), hit 5 Class V rapids, many IIIs and IVs and somehow maneuvered our raft over a 14 foot waterfall without flipping! That was much to the credit of our awesome guide, Reuben, from New Zealand. But we definitely had our share of wipeouts, but thankfully not too much carnage. :-) We ate fresh pineapple for lunch on the river, saw some stunning birds soaring over, a huge iguana, a monkey, and the other raft even spotted a baby croc! This experience was definitely worth the 26 hours we spent on buses getting us there and back, and the crazy Ugandan border. It was a hoot coming back into Rwanda this morning, having to unload everything from the bus, and seeing policemen apprehending folks for trying to "smuggle" in plastic bags. Haha. Remember, President Kagame outlawed plastic in Rwanda back in '02. He's serious about it too. But I'm thankful he did. When we drove back to Rwanda, the air was fresher, cooler, and you can really breathe! I'm thankful I was able to have this incredible and affordable opportunity, relishing in His beauty and creation He has made for us! Psalm 104: 24-30. More pics are coming...
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
3 months of thanksgiving
I just realized yesterday that I've been here in Rwanda for 3 months. That's about 90 days. About 2,160 hours. Some of the days have felt much longer than that, and many have flown by so quickly. Most of the time it doesn't seem like it's been 3 months. I'm kept busy with my lovely 4th graders, been able to nuture and love on the kids at Mother Teresa's place, and just soak up and relish in the blessings He gives me each new day! Just being able to spend time thanking Him for bringing me back here to East Africa, for the people He has placed in my midst, for those I love back home who I wish could be here. I have so much to be thankful for, just looking back on these past 90 days.
A couple nights ago, I was privileged to sit under the stars and listen to my guard, Sam, tell of another 3 months. He told me his story...the story of so many here in Rwanda. I'm always curious of the stories, but like war stories, you never want to ask and make someone feel uncomfortable. So I was glad that in 3 months time, Sam felt open enough to share his story. It's all about relationships. And for 3 months in Rwanda back in 1994, relationships were severed across ethnic lines, and even family lines. Sam was 7 when the genocide began. He had a 4 year old brother and a baby sister. His dad was a prominent preacher in the Tutsi community outside of Kigali. Sam clearly remembers the night of April 9, when the "interahamwe" Hutu rebel fighters stormed in his compound, high on dope, wearing their garish costumes and face paint, and were shouting "Kill those Cockroaches!" He vividly remembers the rebels breaking down the door, grabbing his baby sister and throwing her against the wall, and watching her body fall limply to the floor. He remembers standing there frozen for a moment as his mom begged them not to kill her other two children, and she gave the rebels all the money she had. Then he just remembers running out the back, grabbing his 4 yr old brother's hand and just running. After they looted everywhere, they torched the house with his parents inside. Sam just ran, and ran all the way to the top of Mt. Kigali, which was very wild and sparse 15 years ago. There were hyenas and lions, and other wild animals. For 3 months, he and his little brother stayed on that mountain.
It began to rain as we were sitting there talking, and I started to move, but I couldn't. I just kept listening. But my mind was wondering...what did they do on top of Mt. Kigali for 3 months in the rain? 3 months is a long time. 90 days. 2,160 hours. He said he prayed and slept on the grass, and ate the grass too, along with avocados the good Lord provided them. He escaped a few dangerous lions, and many dangerous nights of hunger. Sam said that there was never a time that he thought he would die, because he knew he had to live for his little brother. "I was my brother's keeper," he said. "Against all hope, in hope Abraham believed." And Sam did too. After 3 months, and when the shooting and shouting subsided, they made their way down the mountain and found their home as ashes. His entire family was killed in the genocide, except for one uncle. But Sam declares himself a lucky one. He praises God everyday for His protection, and he knows there was a divine reason why he is still alive today. Some good samaritians paid for a one room hut for the brothers to live in, and Sam cooked meals for them both. A sponsor paid their way through school, until the end of highschool. Sam is 22 now. He has a music "store" in town, he sings in the church choir, and he's saving up to go to university and earn a business degree. We prayed together, and cried together, and sang his favorite hymn, Blessed Assurance. This is Sam's story, his song. And he continues to praise Jesus everyday for his life. When I asked about his feelings now about the genocide and his situation, he turned to one of my favorite verses, Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." We worship a God who delights in miracles! Who has a perfect plan for our lives! I know He has a perfect plan for Sam's life; just as he watched over him as he endured those 3 months on the mountain, he continues to hold Sam and all of us in the palm of His hand. I'm thankful for our guard, Sam, for his faith, and dedication to serving our Lord. This thanksgiving, I'm also thankful for all of you who I love and who bring me encouragement each day, and especially these past 3 months! I thank God for you and it's my prayer you can rest in His presence this week of thanksgiving and know He is Lord!
A couple nights ago, I was privileged to sit under the stars and listen to my guard, Sam, tell of another 3 months. He told me his story...the story of so many here in Rwanda. I'm always curious of the stories, but like war stories, you never want to ask and make someone feel uncomfortable. So I was glad that in 3 months time, Sam felt open enough to share his story. It's all about relationships. And for 3 months in Rwanda back in 1994, relationships were severed across ethnic lines, and even family lines. Sam was 7 when the genocide began. He had a 4 year old brother and a baby sister. His dad was a prominent preacher in the Tutsi community outside of Kigali. Sam clearly remembers the night of April 9, when the "interahamwe" Hutu rebel fighters stormed in his compound, high on dope, wearing their garish costumes and face paint, and were shouting "Kill those Cockroaches!" He vividly remembers the rebels breaking down the door, grabbing his baby sister and throwing her against the wall, and watching her body fall limply to the floor. He remembers standing there frozen for a moment as his mom begged them not to kill her other two children, and she gave the rebels all the money she had. Then he just remembers running out the back, grabbing his 4 yr old brother's hand and just running. After they looted everywhere, they torched the house with his parents inside. Sam just ran, and ran all the way to the top of Mt. Kigali, which was very wild and sparse 15 years ago. There were hyenas and lions, and other wild animals. For 3 months, he and his little brother stayed on that mountain.
It began to rain as we were sitting there talking, and I started to move, but I couldn't. I just kept listening. But my mind was wondering...what did they do on top of Mt. Kigali for 3 months in the rain? 3 months is a long time. 90 days. 2,160 hours. He said he prayed and slept on the grass, and ate the grass too, along with avocados the good Lord provided them. He escaped a few dangerous lions, and many dangerous nights of hunger. Sam said that there was never a time that he thought he would die, because he knew he had to live for his little brother. "I was my brother's keeper," he said. "Against all hope, in hope Abraham believed." And Sam did too. After 3 months, and when the shooting and shouting subsided, they made their way down the mountain and found their home as ashes. His entire family was killed in the genocide, except for one uncle. But Sam declares himself a lucky one. He praises God everyday for His protection, and he knows there was a divine reason why he is still alive today. Some good samaritians paid for a one room hut for the brothers to live in, and Sam cooked meals for them both. A sponsor paid their way through school, until the end of highschool. Sam is 22 now. He has a music "store" in town, he sings in the church choir, and he's saving up to go to university and earn a business degree. We prayed together, and cried together, and sang his favorite hymn, Blessed Assurance. This is Sam's story, his song. And he continues to praise Jesus everyday for his life. When I asked about his feelings now about the genocide and his situation, he turned to one of my favorite verses, Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." We worship a God who delights in miracles! Who has a perfect plan for our lives! I know He has a perfect plan for Sam's life; just as he watched over him as he endured those 3 months on the mountain, he continues to hold Sam and all of us in the palm of His hand. I'm thankful for our guard, Sam, for his faith, and dedication to serving our Lord. This thanksgiving, I'm also thankful for all of you who I love and who bring me encouragement each day, and especially these past 3 months! I thank God for you and it's my prayer you can rest in His presence this week of thanksgiving and know He is Lord!
Sundrop!
They have Sundrop in Rwanda! Just kidding! I sure wish they did though. But I did get a package from home complete with Sundrop, Chex Mix, and Cheez-Its! I waited for quite a while for this special package, and I have to tell you the story! So, I've figured out that the postal system here, although not as blatantly corrupt as the postal service in Kenya, they still have their discreet ways of getting what they want! It's supposed to take a little under one month for a package to arrive from the States. Well, I had been waiting for this special one since the first week of September when it was mailed. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Each week, when our headmaster's wife would come from the post office with a box, I kept thinking it would be my lucky day because I've waited long enough. Nope, not my box. And then I heard stories of missionaries saying they are still waiting on boxes to arrive that were sent last January and last April! Suddenly I didn't feel like complaining anymore. But I did know that there would be contact solution coming in this box, and I desperately needed some, so I wasn't going to lose hope.
We figured out that theres this great big ledger notebook at the post office where they manually write down every single package that arrives in the country. People said that theres a chance if you go down there, they will let you scan through the book, and try to find your name and package. So I went. It started off too well...the man spoke nice English...he was kind and apologized and gladly gave me the book to start thumbing through. Thankfully it only took me about 10-15 minutes to find my name! I jumped for joy! It's me, It's me! Do you have my package? He then sends another man back to this big "package" room. I wait. He brings out a package for a Dutch man. Then a package for a Japanese lady. Then two other boxes for other random people, before I got impatient and asked if I could go back there with him to find my package. He said sure. So I go in this giant room, with absolutely no organization, boxes stacked everywhere and all over the floor, and I start hunting. I notice that it's odd that ALL these boxes are large priority boxes, and most are from the U.S. Hmmm...interesting. There was not even one small box. So finally after only 20 minutes of seraching, I find it! It had a thick layer of dust on it, but thankfully it was intact and hadn't been opened. In the process, I found boxes for 2 missionaries I know that had been waiting since April and July! Crazy! So I take my box out there and sign the paper, and start to walk out.
Thats when things get ugly. The man stops me, and sends another person to guard/block the door. Then, with a sly look on his face, demands that I pay him a "storage" fee of 10,000...which is about $20. I laughed in his face, and told him in Swahili and English that I wasn't paying a bribe, I knew my rights, and I was leaving with my box. They blocked the door. I got firmer and firmer. My face and neck started turning red like it does and I told him how bad he was and that he better let me go now with my box. He started grabbing the box from me. I grabbed it back. We played "tug of war" for a few seconds, then he won and he laughed and said he was hiding my box until I paid the money. He laughed and said, ok, just pay 5,000. I said I refuse to pay any bribe. Let me go. Then I was starting to get so mad a couple tears were coming down. Then I called my headmaster who lives around the corner, and his wife said she would come up there to help. It was almost closing time. They said I had to leave. I said I won't leave until you give me my package. They started to push me out and close the door. I pushed my way back in. They called for their guard with his AK-47 to come and intervene. I said give me my box and I'll leave. Then thankfully, Roberta showed up. They know her and see her face every week. As soon as they saw her, and knew she was the headmaster's wife, they said, ok, just pay us 570, which is $1. We paid it and they brought my box back out from hiding. I was still so angry and red, and just glad to have Roberta there to help at just the right time. It was another fun day at a foreign post office. But it did bring me much joy being able to tell Nicole and others that I actually saw their boxes! Yes! They are there! And I drew them a map of the box room to navigate through and successfully advocate for their packages. Ah, Africa. I love it! All of it! :-) And the Sundrop tasted just as sweet as it would have in September.
We figured out that theres this great big ledger notebook at the post office where they manually write down every single package that arrives in the country. People said that theres a chance if you go down there, they will let you scan through the book, and try to find your name and package. So I went. It started off too well...the man spoke nice English...he was kind and apologized and gladly gave me the book to start thumbing through. Thankfully it only took me about 10-15 minutes to find my name! I jumped for joy! It's me, It's me! Do you have my package? He then sends another man back to this big "package" room. I wait. He brings out a package for a Dutch man. Then a package for a Japanese lady. Then two other boxes for other random people, before I got impatient and asked if I could go back there with him to find my package. He said sure. So I go in this giant room, with absolutely no organization, boxes stacked everywhere and all over the floor, and I start hunting. I notice that it's odd that ALL these boxes are large priority boxes, and most are from the U.S. Hmmm...interesting. There was not even one small box. So finally after only 20 minutes of seraching, I find it! It had a thick layer of dust on it, but thankfully it was intact and hadn't been opened. In the process, I found boxes for 2 missionaries I know that had been waiting since April and July! Crazy! So I take my box out there and sign the paper, and start to walk out.
Thats when things get ugly. The man stops me, and sends another person to guard/block the door. Then, with a sly look on his face, demands that I pay him a "storage" fee of 10,000...which is about $20. I laughed in his face, and told him in Swahili and English that I wasn't paying a bribe, I knew my rights, and I was leaving with my box. They blocked the door. I got firmer and firmer. My face and neck started turning red like it does and I told him how bad he was and that he better let me go now with my box. He started grabbing the box from me. I grabbed it back. We played "tug of war" for a few seconds, then he won and he laughed and said he was hiding my box until I paid the money. He laughed and said, ok, just pay 5,000. I said I refuse to pay any bribe. Let me go. Then I was starting to get so mad a couple tears were coming down. Then I called my headmaster who lives around the corner, and his wife said she would come up there to help. It was almost closing time. They said I had to leave. I said I won't leave until you give me my package. They started to push me out and close the door. I pushed my way back in. They called for their guard with his AK-47 to come and intervene. I said give me my box and I'll leave. Then thankfully, Roberta showed up. They know her and see her face every week. As soon as they saw her, and knew she was the headmaster's wife, they said, ok, just pay us 570, which is $1. We paid it and they brought my box back out from hiding. I was still so angry and red, and just glad to have Roberta there to help at just the right time. It was another fun day at a foreign post office. But it did bring me much joy being able to tell Nicole and others that I actually saw their boxes! Yes! They are there! And I drew them a map of the box room to navigate through and successfully advocate for their packages. Ah, Africa. I love it! All of it! :-) And the Sundrop tasted just as sweet as it would have in September.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Is this the beginning....
of a plague?? I sure hope not. :-) But...for the last 2 days, it seems like the locust are trying to overtake us! Haha. No, but seriously, it's rather disturbing. My kids warned me they come out at the end of October, mid-November when rainy season is at its peak, but I've never seen anything like it. It's a combination of cool, gross, and just plain weird! They are everywhere. Most are tiny locusts, a little longer than your index finger, but some are as big as hotdogs! (I don't know why I just had hotdogs on my mind! Maybe its cause my dad just said he was going to eat at Lee's. Mmm!) The worst is when you are trying to use the bathroom in peace, and they are all over the wall and their little black, beady eyes are rolling around in their head and staring at you. Or when they're all over your classroom windows, so when you go to close the window when you leave, you accidentally smoosh one of them in the window, and locust guts fall in your room. It's just delightful. I'm only joking. I tried to get a picture of a giant one, but it was in the grass, and was camouflaged. When I get a good picture, I'll post it. But until then, let's just pray that Pharoah lets the people go! :-)
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Rwanda vs. Zambia
Today was an exciting Saturday! First, Anna Lee and I found this tiny, hidden shop that sells different kinds of food, and as we were browsing the aisles looking for treasures, I looked up and saw a golden bag of Teddy Grahams! (They were really golden, because they were the honey flavored ones.) We both shrieked. It is hilarious the little things that bring you joy living in a foreign country. :-) Of course, when we examined the bag, they weren't the "true" Teddy Grahams, but they still brought us joy. From what we could tell from the package, they were a "Global Brand" of Teddy Grahams, originally produced in Scottsdale, Arizona, then shipped and packaged in India, then on to Rwanda. I don't understand it all , but I was happy I found them on the shelf at Ndolis today. They look weird though..flat bears with big eyes. They look like alien Teddy Grahams and they taste a little funny, but I'm not complaining. Ok, enough about food!
The second reason our Saturday was exciting was I got to attend an international football match between Rwanda and Zambia! We're called the Amavubi, which means Wasps. Before I tell you about the match, I have to tell you about our rat race all around Kigali, trying to find tickets! We were told by our guard and many others that we needed to buy tickets early since it was an international match, because the roads would close later on for the President coming. So we hopped on a moto at 10 this morning and went to the stadium to purchase tickets for everyone. When we got there our moto driver said that we weren't going to be able to buy tickets at the stadium because they didn't sell them there until right before the game started. He told us that government was bad in that way, and that is why there were always stampedes to get in the game right beforehand. Very comforting information! So he takes us down the road to a tiny Rwandatel shack that is supposed to sell tickets. No tickets. We pay our moto driver and he drives away. We went to another Rwandatel shack. No tickets. They send us back to the stadium. It took us about 15 minutes in the blazing sun, then we arrive and the gate police tell us no tickets. Finally a nice man tells us to walk back down the way we just came from to a hotel called Chez Lando where they sell tickets. We walked the 15 minutes back down the road, and finally found the entrance to the hotel, hidden behind a wall of ivy. We walk in, confused and went to reception. Of course the reception lady looked even more confused when we told her we wanted to buy tickets for the game. She sent us to the bar, where we found some men watching a football game on thier small tv. I just knew they would direct us to the right place! They told us to cross the street and go to Ndoli's market (where I found the fake Teddy Grahams), and they assured us we could buy tickets there. We cross over, and of course find people shopping for produce, meat, milk. We come up in there and ask the lady for football tickets, and she looks at us like we are crazy. We are so tired by now, but just laugh at each other and say in unison, "TIA," which means "This is Africa!" We talk about "Tia" a lot. :-) But then some random man in the market tells us to go three shops down to another Rwandatel shop and we will most definitely be able to buy tickets there. And he was right! Finally! We got our tickets, and the man selling them told us we still needed to arrive 2 hours before the match started so we wouldn't have to "push" to get in. Haha. We got there at 2:15 for the 3:30 match, and thankfully, the "pushing" hadn't really started. But they DO pat you down. For real. We had a female police, thank goodness. And they make you turn on your camera and take a picture of the ground to show them that your camera is real and not a bomb. :-) I laughed out loud at that. But I complied anyway.
The stadium was really pretty modern. They totally rebuilt it after the events in 94. Today's was a qualifying match for the African Nations Cup held in Angola. I think Rwanda is already out of the World Cup qualifiers, because we're not very good. From the little I understand about soccer, the winner of today's game was the last team to advance to the Nations Cup from our Group. And in order for Rwanda to advance, we had to win by 2 goals. Sadly, the game ended with a 0-0 tie, which still meant Zambia would advance. Rwanda had many, many shots on goal, but each time they got close they got really excited and overshot it. It was kind of frustrating to see so many near misses. Zambia looked much more controlled. We just seemed to be very excited when we had the ball, and we would kick it far down field, instead of pushing the ball up the field together. One of the hilarious things was watching all the guys on both teams fake injuries. They would fall down just to stop the clock and then lay there writhing in pain. Then the "stretcher" team would run out onto the field carrying a makeshift handheld "stretcher" and clumsily lift the person onto the stretcher and run off the field. Then, as soon as the person was dropped on the sidelines, they would get up and run back out there. It was crazy! But I think I figured out that the rule was if you left the field, it had to be on a stretcher. This happened about 12 times during the course of the game. Of course, each time, that player just wanted a "water" break. They would sip their water on the stretcher, be carried to the sidelines, dropped in the grass, then they would immediately run back out there to play. Hilarious to watch! The atmosphere in the stadium was great..it reminded me of an American football game. There were Rwandans with painted faces and chests, blowing crazy horns, wearing masks, trying to humiliate the other team. Lot of fun to watch! One neat thing at the end to see, was how they release everyone from the stadium. You cannot leave early at all! Not even if your team is losing by a mile! When the President is there, no one is allowed to leave the stadium until he formally leaves with all his people. It's a big, formal process. The policemen have to stop everyone else from leaving. So it took us a while to get out of there. Thank goodness we didn't need to immediately catch a moto. We would have been out of luck. A bunch of us girls walked to Sole Luna cafe afterwards for some great Italian pizza. All in all, a super day! :-)
Rwanda vs. Zambia
Amharo Stadium
An enthusiastic fan :-)
The army band playing for President Kagame
The "mzungu" crowd. Don't make fun of my hat. I was just trying to show my support for the Amavubi! :-)
The second reason our Saturday was exciting was I got to attend an international football match between Rwanda and Zambia! We're called the Amavubi, which means Wasps. Before I tell you about the match, I have to tell you about our rat race all around Kigali, trying to find tickets! We were told by our guard and many others that we needed to buy tickets early since it was an international match, because the roads would close later on for the President coming. So we hopped on a moto at 10 this morning and went to the stadium to purchase tickets for everyone. When we got there our moto driver said that we weren't going to be able to buy tickets at the stadium because they didn't sell them there until right before the game started. He told us that government was bad in that way, and that is why there were always stampedes to get in the game right beforehand. Very comforting information! So he takes us down the road to a tiny Rwandatel shack that is supposed to sell tickets. No tickets. We pay our moto driver and he drives away. We went to another Rwandatel shack. No tickets. They send us back to the stadium. It took us about 15 minutes in the blazing sun, then we arrive and the gate police tell us no tickets. Finally a nice man tells us to walk back down the way we just came from to a hotel called Chez Lando where they sell tickets. We walked the 15 minutes back down the road, and finally found the entrance to the hotel, hidden behind a wall of ivy. We walk in, confused and went to reception. Of course the reception lady looked even more confused when we told her we wanted to buy tickets for the game. She sent us to the bar, where we found some men watching a football game on thier small tv. I just knew they would direct us to the right place! They told us to cross the street and go to Ndoli's market (where I found the fake Teddy Grahams), and they assured us we could buy tickets there. We cross over, and of course find people shopping for produce, meat, milk. We come up in there and ask the lady for football tickets, and she looks at us like we are crazy. We are so tired by now, but just laugh at each other and say in unison, "TIA," which means "This is Africa!" We talk about "Tia" a lot. :-) But then some random man in the market tells us to go three shops down to another Rwandatel shop and we will most definitely be able to buy tickets there. And he was right! Finally! We got our tickets, and the man selling them told us we still needed to arrive 2 hours before the match started so we wouldn't have to "push" to get in. Haha. We got there at 2:15 for the 3:30 match, and thankfully, the "pushing" hadn't really started. But they DO pat you down. For real. We had a female police, thank goodness. And they make you turn on your camera and take a picture of the ground to show them that your camera is real and not a bomb. :-) I laughed out loud at that. But I complied anyway.
The stadium was really pretty modern. They totally rebuilt it after the events in 94. Today's was a qualifying match for the African Nations Cup held in Angola. I think Rwanda is already out of the World Cup qualifiers, because we're not very good. From the little I understand about soccer, the winner of today's game was the last team to advance to the Nations Cup from our Group. And in order for Rwanda to advance, we had to win by 2 goals. Sadly, the game ended with a 0-0 tie, which still meant Zambia would advance. Rwanda had many, many shots on goal, but each time they got close they got really excited and overshot it. It was kind of frustrating to see so many near misses. Zambia looked much more controlled. We just seemed to be very excited when we had the ball, and we would kick it far down field, instead of pushing the ball up the field together. One of the hilarious things was watching all the guys on both teams fake injuries. They would fall down just to stop the clock and then lay there writhing in pain. Then the "stretcher" team would run out onto the field carrying a makeshift handheld "stretcher" and clumsily lift the person onto the stretcher and run off the field. Then, as soon as the person was dropped on the sidelines, they would get up and run back out there. It was crazy! But I think I figured out that the rule was if you left the field, it had to be on a stretcher. This happened about 12 times during the course of the game. Of course, each time, that player just wanted a "water" break. They would sip their water on the stretcher, be carried to the sidelines, dropped in the grass, then they would immediately run back out there to play. Hilarious to watch! The atmosphere in the stadium was great..it reminded me of an American football game. There were Rwandans with painted faces and chests, blowing crazy horns, wearing masks, trying to humiliate the other team. Lot of fun to watch! One neat thing at the end to see, was how they release everyone from the stadium. You cannot leave early at all! Not even if your team is losing by a mile! When the President is there, no one is allowed to leave the stadium until he formally leaves with all his people. It's a big, formal process. The policemen have to stop everyone else from leaving. So it took us a while to get out of there. Thank goodness we didn't need to immediately catch a moto. We would have been out of luck. A bunch of us girls walked to Sole Luna cafe afterwards for some great Italian pizza. All in all, a super day! :-)
Rwanda vs. Zambia
Amharo Stadium
An enthusiastic fan :-)
The army band playing for President Kagame
The "mzungu" crowd. Don't make fun of my hat. I was just trying to show my support for the Amavubi! :-)
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