The other day was the one-month mark for my return home. In less than a month, I will be leaving this crazy, sometimes frustrating, and yet amazingly fulfilling place.
There are so many things I will miss about Rwanda and so many things that I will not miss. Cold showers, for one. But the best part about this trip is that things can be annoying and frustrating. But after a while, they’re just funny.
I’ve been trying to get my anecdotes and stories straight. The aspects of everyday life in Rwanda that are different and sometimes crazy are the things I will miss the most.
First, the taxi motos. When people ride on the back of taxi motorcycles, there are seldom restrictions on what you can and cannot bring.
I have, for example, almost been beheaded as a moto whizzed by with its passenger carrying an open backpack with several sharp tools.
Other times, I’ve seen passengers carrying poles well over 8 feet long. Once, I saw a guy trying to transport a small mattress.
Nothing is too big or too inconvenient to carry on a moto. In Rwanda, where there’s a will, there’s a way.
I will miss the way people speak. If I trip on the bumpy hill by my house, I always get a sympathetic, “Sorry!”
This also happens when I drop my phone and the case falls off. They don’t need to apologize for my own clumsiness, but it’s a nice gesture I’ve come to appreciate.
I will also miss the hills. They’re the most beautiful thing about Rwanda. In the rural areas, they’re just steep and massive, all green and covered with banana plants or other crops.
In Kigali, they’re covered with hundreds of houses, built right next to each other. At night, lights dot the hills like stars.
Then there’s the things that aren’t so picturesque. Every time a toilet doesn’t flush, I want to curse everything. That happens a lot. It’s the life that comes with having unreliable running water.
In Rwanda, there’s no limit to how many people you can fit on a bus. I think I’ve spent half of my trip on a bus, squished next to two strangers, mixing sweat.
There are also giant, 8-foot holes in the road that every day I swear I’m going to fall in and break my leg.
And I’m leaving in a month. I can’t really think about what that all means yet.
I’ll miss sweaty bus rides, dodging giant holes and the kindness of strangers. These little things make up a whole experience.
I didn’t realize I loved this place until I realized how much I would miss these little things. Even the things I didn’t think I would.
For now, all I can do is appreciate each day, savor these moments and lament that perhaps the hardest part of going abroad is having to go back home ?afterward.
