Ordinary

Give yourself fully to the adventure of today. - Jesus Calling by Sarah Young

When I stepped off the plane six months ago, I felt upside down.  I pictured my friends and family back in America standing on the opposite side of the planet.  I was literally upside down in relation to them.  During the first few months it was exciting and exhausting to be in this new position, viewing the world from a different vantage point.  Everything I did – buying groceries at the market, walking to school, going to church – it all felt like an adventure.  I would end the day amazed by all that I was experiencing but utterly exhausted by all the new things that I was having to wrap my mind around.

But at some point, midst all the adventure, everything became normal.  I had hoped this would happen.  I don’t think I could handle feeling so out of place and overwhelmed for an entire year.  The normalcy means I’ve made friends, that my house feels like home, and that this culture is leaving its mark on me.  I’m learning how to speak, eat, walk, sing, and dance like a Rwandan.  I’ve even been given a Kinyarwanda name!  You can call me Kabanyana.

The downside of beginning to fit in? It makes it harder to blog.  The blank word document stares back at me a little more harshly.  The moments of ordinary days are often more beautiful than the interludes of edge-of-your-seat adventure… But it’s easy to forget that the ordinary is a story worth telling.  So here’s a snapshot of my new ordinary:

6:00 AM – I wake up to the jingle of my cell phone’s alarm clock.  That is, if I am not woken earlier by my night watchman outside my window singing along to Kinyarwanda gospel music on the radio or to the sound of the utterly ungraceful crows who land with a thud on our tin roof and the nail-on-chalkboard sound of their claws as they try to find their balance on the roof’s steep peak.

6:10 AM – I hit snooze a few more times… Or slip on my shoes for an early morning run.  Despite my efforts to sneak out unnoticed, it’s not uncommon for me to end my run with a dozen school children in tow.  I’ve even had an old man in a suit and a young woman in heels join me for a jaunt.

7:45 AM – After breakfast and a cold shower, I head to school.  All the bicycle taxi drivers in my neighborhood know where I want to go: “Sarah, tugende?” they ask.  “Yego,” I answer as I hop on the back.  It makes for a pleasant commute – unless, of course, it has recently rained and I’m wearing a skirt.  Then I must hold on for dear life as I balance on the back side-saddle while my driver carefully navigates the pits and puddles of the muddy dirt path.

8:00 AM – I arrive at Rwamagana Lutheran School as the first bell rings.  Most of my day is spent in the new laboratory doing cool science with our biology and chemistry classes.  I’m learning what a challenging and rewarding job it is to teach.  The class periods seem to fluctuate between blank stares and enthusiastic questions.

4:00 PM – The final bell rings and I walk home.  I’m beginning to embrace the African pace of life as I saunter home slowly, stopping to greet all those who call out to me.

Monday Evenings – Monday evenings I have been giving guitar lessons to a couple boys who lead music at their churches.  They learn the new chords quickly and I fear will soon be better than their teacher.

Wednesday Evenings – My roommate Becca and I head to Bible study.  Last fall a few of us started coming together once a week.  Since then our group continues to grow.  Most of us are new to Rwamagana, coming from all over the world.  We come from Korea, Rwanda, America, Uganda, and India.  We are Catholic, Pentecostal, Lutheran, Methodist, and Presbyterian.  We range in age from 19 to 55.  The diversity of this group always makes for rich discussions.  Valerie, an American missionary in our group, has started a bakery to create jobs for single mothers.  We gather at her shop when we meet, always welcomed by the inviting smell of fresh bread, and sharing      delicious food as we try to make sense of the Word.

Fridays Evenings – I join some friends at the nursing and midwife school for some basketball.  After years of warming the benches of the Minnesota State High School League, it’s nice to find a nation that appreciates my basketball skills.

10:00 PM – I crawl into bed, tuck my mosquito net around me, and whisper “Thank you.”