Well, today the group parts ways. Josh heads to London, Travis and Ryan head to Uganda with Esther, and Chase and Whitney and I are headed home. This trip has been amazing. God has blessed us and protected us and provided for us every step of the way, and we give Him all the glory. We're packing up right now, and then we're going into downtown Kigali for some last minute gift shopping. Be praying that we have a safe journey back, and that all the camera equipment (especially the hard drives that have all our footage) doesn't get damaged or lost on the way. I know that I am still missing the rest of Tuesday, and then Wednesday and Thursday, too. Don't worry. I'll have a long time on the plane to write about our last jam-packed days in Rwanda. I'll post it when I get back, and then this series of Journals from the Field will be complete. Thanks for reading, praying, emailing, and supporting. We all appreciate it and we can't wait to get home and see our family and friends and share all our unblogged and blogged adventures in greater depth. We know God will protect us on the way back, and we can't wait to see and hear from all of you. Grace and Peace.

Tuesday morning was ugly. I mean, it was uglier than Whitney (5th grade) or Chase’s (6th grade) ugly duckling phases, uglier than my passport picture (chubb-o), uglier than Ethiopian Airlines food—wait, I think it may have been right on par with that. At any rate, it was ugly and it was early. We’re talking five fifteen in the morning early. We all walked around the apartment groggily getting ready. Well, some of us walked around; I stayed in bed for quite some time. But we all headed out of the apartment by around six, where Alfonse was waiting for us, ready to go. We piled into the car and headed out, ready to film.

You may be wondering what in the world we were going to film at six in the morning, and since you’ve been reading this far, I’ll tell you: lines. We were looking for lines. People all over Kigali get their water very early in the morning, and we had to rise and shine before the sun had in order to get to a water site and see the lines. We drove around for some time, wondering where we’d go. There were a few sites we had in mind, but there weren’t many people at any of them. After almost an hour of searching, I began to worry that we’d missed our chance and would have to try again even earlier tomorrow. Thank the Lord, I was wrong.

Alfonse told us that he knew a popular place where people got water. It was a water pump right in front of a school. While we didn’t want to suggest that water pumps are a bad idea, we did want to communicate the need for more clean water sources. So Alfonse helped us to line people up, and I stood at the end of the line with a jerry can. Chase used our makeshift dolly to get a pretty cool shot of the line, because you can’t see me at first, and then I step our at the end of line and say something about lines and the need for clean water. All was going fine and dandy until Chase asked me to do a second take. And then a third one. I did ok on the first three takes, but on the fourth I started messing up my words, getting things backwards and just getting all-around tongue tied. I kid you not, I said, “People end up spending long lines in hours trying to get clean water.” Everyone started laughing, and it took me a few more takes to say anything that didn’t sound completely idiotic.

Still, the shot worked well and we even interviewed a few people. One cool sign from God was that there was a statue in the courtyard of the school we were in front of. The statue was of Saint Jean-Bosco, who helped start a bunch of schools or something. So that was pretty cool. Thanks, God.

We packed up and got back to the apartment around eight thirty. We ate some breakfast and prepared to go back to Jean-Bosco’s house for a second water walk, this time with Esther and Chase. To get ready, Chase dumped the morning’s footage on the computer, charged the batteries for the camera, and set up the steady-cam. In essence, the steady-cam is like a mix between a Terminator and Doctor Octopus suit for a cameraman. Chase puts on this life-vest-looking thing, and he attaches a metal, moveable arm to his chest. He then attaches the camera to the arm. The camera is also attached to short pole with a handle, which Chase holds as he walks around. Basically, the steady-cam allows Chase to get moving shots without having the camera shake up and down and give people a headache.

Before heading out to JB’s we went over to Novotel to grab some lunch at the bakery and buy a new phone card (those minutes go fast). We also went by the store to pick up extra bottles of water. We wanted to make sure all of us were as hydrated as possible for the walk, because it was hot today and those hills are friendly to the eyes and deadly to every other body part. So once we were all stocked, we began to drive out. But then we got a call from Living Water, because they were putting in a hand pump at a different site today, and they thought we might want to film it. This left us at an crossroads we were not expecting, as we had thought the pump was being put in later in the afternoon. Then we found out that the pump by Jean-Bosco’s was going to be installed tomorrow (Wednesday), so we just agreed we’d go over to Jean-Bosco’s house first, and then tomorrow we’d go to film the pump installation. So God worked that one out for us, too. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

We quickly drove over to yesterday’s dig site, afraid we were late for meeting JB. Men were working at the site, and we were glad the pump would be installed while we were still in Rwanda. We drank some water and watched Chase put on the full armor of Cam. Once he was ready we began to walk over to the bottom of the first hill. There we found Living Water digging another borehole. It was awesome to see that Jean-Bosco and his neighbors would have several clean water sources in the area.

After Alfonse went back and grabbed the jerry can (I forgot it on accident), we started up the hill. I didn’t recognize the route Alfonse was taking, but he was in the lead and I didn’t feel like second-guessing him. But there was very little familiar about the path Alfonse chose: it was steeper, less populated, and there were fewer banana trees. I had a feeling we were going the wrong way. Still, when I finally did ask Alfonse where we were going, he pointed toward banana trees and said he knew where it was. After a few forks in the road and steeper hills, it was clear none of us knew where it was. Thankfully, some locals were passing by and Alfonse asked for directions. The first group of locals sent us the wrong way, but the second group included a woman who led us the entire way to JB’s house. We were grateful for her help, but we were confused when no one was at the house. The door was shut, bolted, and locked, and the only living things around were the cows, the chickens, and the goats.

We sat around for about a half hour. To pass the time, we told each other about our families. We’d barely gotten through Esther and I when Jean-Bosco walked up, wearing his polo shirts and khaki shorts and carrying his school papers. He greeted us all with soft handshakes and nods, and then he unlocked the door to his home. Moments later, he came back out with his jerry can, still wearing his school clothes. We guessed that he didn’t want to make us wait, but we told him he could change if he wanted. So he changed his clothes while Chase made sure he was all set with the steady cam. While JB was changing, we were joined by Etienne—one of JB’s friends. By the time JB locked up his house, everyone was set to go.

I walked in front of JB, while Etienne led the way. Chase followed us with the steady cam, and Travis and Josh spotted Chase. The reason Chase needed a spotter was because he was staring at the LCD screen while walking, and therefore couldn’t see what kind of ground he was stepping on. Thus, Travis and Josh were with him every step and stumble of the way (there were several of both). We had to stop a few times on the way down so Chase could get shots from a few different angles, but for the most part we walked and Chase and the rest followed. It took us about twenty minutes to walk down from JB’s house to the water hole.

Once again, I watched the boys walk right into the water, repeating the same process as the day before. I squatted by the muddy bank, making sure not to slip. The murky water glugged into my jerry can, air bubbles breaking the surface, creating ripples that caused the scum on top to shift and float in different directions. JB helped me fill up my jerry can all the way when I couldn’t get any more water in it. After filling up all the way, Esther took some pictures with Jean-Bosco while Chase rested for a few minutes. The steady cam is about twenty five pounds, so we understood that Chase wanted a little break before having to trek back up the hill. At the same time, Ryan ran over to our original dig site with the Vixia to get some footage of the crew putting in the concrete foundation of the well. I, too, was grateful for a chance to rest, because I would be carrying the jerry can the entire way, unlike the day before when I was aided by Alfonse and Ryan.

After a few more minutes of Esther taking pictures, it was time to get moving. Chase moved ahead of us for a starting shot, and I followed the lead of Etienne and Jean-Bosco, who put their jerry cans on their head (I put mine on my shoulder, like last time). We started walking and as soon as we’d walked twenty feet, Chase stopped us to move ahead again for another shot. Thankfully, we didn’t have to stop much more. Although, when we did stop I put down the jerry can and heaved air in and out of my lungs, trying to regain my strength. Every step, every up-and-down movement of my body made the jerry can dig into my right shoulder. My arms began to shake, my legs started wobbling, and I could feel my head pounding. I was so tired that I didn’t even care about the shots Chase or Esther were trying to get anymore; I just wanted to get to Jean-Bosco’s house. I wanted to sit down, to be in the shade, and most of all I wanted a drink of water. But I couldn’t drink. I wasn’t going to cheat. If JB didn’t stop for a drink then I wasn’t going to stop for a drink. It was miserable, especially knowing my water would go to the cows.

While I didn’t mind suffering in front of Jean-Bosco or the group, I did get frustrated when we attracted a small train of boys (ages ranging from five to maybe seventeen). As soon as they saw me walking with my jerry can, they began to point and laugh, clearly amused by my carrying technique and how out of breath I was. One of the boys continued to mock me, calling out jokes for the other boys to laugh at, even going so far as to stand right in front of me and joke into my face. I had to close my eyes and pray to keep from saying anything, to keep from storming off or asking Alfonse to scare the kid off. I prayed to God and I realized that we were here for kids like this, just normal kids who like to joke around, carefree and smiling. To him, I probably looked ridiculous: a mzungu wearing tight jeans and chucks, carrying a jerry can on my shoulder. And I was on his territory. So I guess it makes sense.

Still, I was so happy to see Jean-Bosco’s house. We had stopped to get shots more times than I would have liked, but it was finally over. Like I predicted, my water went to the cows. After my forty minutes of hard work went to the cows, JB showed us his house one more time. He was shyer this time, since more people were around and the camera was pretty intimidating. He showed us everything we’d seen yesterday. Essentially, the only difference was that Jean-Bosco spoke less often and softer. The Vixia proved a lot less intrusive, but JB was still willing to let us ask him a few questions in front of the big camera. Unfortunately, the kids who’d followed us were huddled around the camera, and they were not very good at being quiet, so we’ll see how the footage and audio came out.

After asking some questions, Jean-Bosco had work to do, so it was time for us to leave. We told him we’d be back again for the clean water pump, which was being put in Wednesday. We walked back down and Chase got a few shots of the half-finished water pump.

The other shot we got before leaving was probably the funniest thing we’ve filmed on camera. We got Alfonse to stand next to Girafrican Magic, keep a totally straight face, and say, “I’m Alfonse. You know me. I made this movie.” We all laughed, but it’s really true. Alfonse has helped us so much. The man is like a stoic, a monk: he lives off of water and a good attitude. He has (almost) no weaknesses. He’s been the biggest blessing on this trip, and we can’t thank him or God enough.

We were all really happy with how the day had gone, and we grew ecstatic when we found out that Dwight Jackson, the head of Food for the Hungry in Rwanda and Burundi, was possibly available for an interview. We hurried back to the apartment to recharge and transfer our footage. Unfortunately, we heard back from FH and Dwight was no longer available. We were a little bummed, but it wasn’t the end of the world. In the meantime, we relaxed and figured out our plans for the evening.

More on Tuesday’s evening’s adventures next post, and we might even have a guest writer for part of the next one, so look forward to that. Know that we’re all safe and sound, however exhausted and dirty. Be praying that today (Thursday) goes well, because it’s our last full day of filming. We’re going to be working all day, and we’re excited to see what God does on our last full day in Rwanda. Grace and Peace.

TW

So the Hixons invited us over before we could do something nice for them. On the way over, the taxi driver and I had a conversation in French, and he told me his name was Jean-Pierre and that he was the transport coordinator for all of the major films and documentaries made in Rwanda (I didn’t want to be mean and ask why he was a taxi driver in his spare time if he was working on big movies). At any rate, he was nice and he questioned me about our documentary. He seemed to know his movie- making lingo, so maybe he really was the transport coordinator for a few movies.

At any rate, we arrived at the Hixons to find Bryan in his groovy Africa shirt. Moses was there, too (he’s everywhere). On top of that, Holly made burritos. Big, juicy, scrumptious burritos. Thrown in the some cool guacamole, good cheese from good milk (the cheese wheels we buy here say that on them), and Fanta and that’s as close as you’ll get to our delicious meal last night. While we ate, the Bryan and Holly talked to us about their experience here and about their knowledge of the genocide. Sitting and listening to them was great because they were so ready to share their knowledge and talk about their adventures here. Most of all, I was inspired by their love for the friends they’ve made in Rwanda. They really have a heart for the people here, and it shows in how they talk.

After dinner, Alexis and Gracie (the Hixon girls) proceeded to battle Chase and I with paper airplanes and straws. They are both cute blond-haired girls who like to laugh and enjoy inflicting concentrated amounts of pain on to college-age males. Incidentally, the kamikaze paper airplane attacks weren’t very accurate, so Bryan and Esther found themselves in the crossfire a few times. All in all, it was a relaxing evening of good food and frequent giggles. We couldn’t have asked for better downtime, much less company.

After crashing quickly, we got up at the sinful hour of 6:30 (and to think, I was getting up at 5:30 at the trip’s beginning) in order to be over at the Living Water truck depot by 7:30. We picked up Moses, who had offered to come, we met at the depot with Justin and C.W. Bing and the drilling crew. C.W. is Living Water’s East Africa Director, but he used to work in the drilling business, and he’s been training Living Water’s Rwandan drilling team. After a prayer (spoken in English, translated in kinyarwanda), we headed out to the site of where the pump was to be placed. As everyone was setting up, Justin gave me a rundown of the Living Water drilling team.

There are three trucks involved. The first truck is the drilling rig. It’s a huge truck with the rig sitting sideways on it. The second truck is the air compressor. This is another huge truck, and its sole purpose is to bring the air compressor out to the field. The third truck is the support truck, which carries all the piping, drill rods, casing, and the actual drilling crew.

When we arrived at the site, the crew got out and started cutting down the stray bushes and shrubbery in order to find a clear place to dig, while the guys on the rig truck put down these huge legs, which help to level the rig and make sure the well is dug as straight as possible. Meanwhile, the crew unloads the drill rods and a few guys on the rig truck help to “lift the mast” (that is, erect the rig).

Now, the way all the trucks work together goes like this: the drilling rig truck plugs its transmission into the rig (the truck’s engine powers the rig). Then the air compressor plugs into the rig, and helps to shoot air through tiny holes in the drill bit (the drill bit is at the end of rod). This high-powered air shoots dirt up and out of the hole, keeping it clean for the bit to continue drilling. The first drill bit they put on is called the clay bit, which is made to drill through all the soft topsoil. After hitting rock, the crew switched to the hammer button bit, named for its button-sized dimples, which cut into the rock and earth.

We broke ground at nine in the morning. Essentially, it looked like a dirt storm. Dark clouds of dirt whirled out of the ground, with a few bits of rock and earth shooting out, too. So then we waited. And this went on for a good while. Justin had warned that drilling a well is typically not the most exciting thing in the world. Chase was running around getting shots from different angles for thirty minutes, but then he, too, was feeling hard pressed to make the monotonous drilling look interesting. But then, at 10:31, at about seven meters deep, we hit the good stuff. The crew turned the air compressor on full to clean out the hole (they do this every ten minutes or so), and water suddenly came spewing out like a geyser, nearly reaching the top of the rig. That was cool to watch. However, Justin informed me that the water we’d hit wasn’t actually the good stuff. They still had to drill to at least twenty meters to ensure that the groundwater was clean. So the drilling continued, this time with a lot more mud and water (the crew was drenched, thankfully our cameras were a safe distance away). The crew reached twenty meters at eleven ten in the morning.

People were gathered around and watching the drilling process all day. We knew that somewhere among the crowd was a personal story, someone we could meet and get to know. But when we started looking for someone, Chase told me that the camera’s battery was almost dead. He said we could film as long as the batter would last, but that might only be forty-five minutes or so. I prayed for a little longer, just asking God to get us through this and show us what we needed to see or whom we needed to meet.

And then God gave us Jean-Bosco. Esther had met him and taken his picture earlier that day when he was standing around watching the digging. Jean-Bosco is a short, solemn boy with a camouflaged smile. His feet are caloused and hard, and smattered with dirt, crusted with dust. When his jerry can is empty, he likes to carry it with both hands behind his head, the can bouncing upon his back. When his jerry can is full, he places it sideways upon his head, leaky side up. JB rarely makes eye contact with me, and even less when the camera is around. He claims he’s fifteen, but looking at him you’d think he was twelve. JB is very quiet, at least he is around mzungu, and he most answers with mumbles and raising his eyebrows.

When I asked him if we could follow him on his water walk and go to his house, he shyly agreed. So I picked up one of the jerry cans that we bought earlier and Chase started filming us walking to the water source. At first, Jean-Bosco headed toward the water source we’d seen before, which was a small scum pond right next to several modest crop fields. Women were bent over picking whatever it was they were farming, sorting through the picked crops, or resting and drinking water out of their jerry cans. This was the first time I had seen someone drinking out of those filthy cans, and the image hit me forcefully. I didn’t want them to be drinking that water, but I knew they had nothing else. I thought we would stop and fill up at the same place, but Jean-Bosco kept walking. We passed by more fields, and by now it was not just Jean-Bosco and Alfonse walking with me, but a cute train of little boys, all with different-sized jerry cans.

We came to another pond, this one a little larger, but just as dirty. Again, I saw a woman who had just filled her jerry can drinking from it, guzzling water I wouldn’t use to wash my hands. I felt disgusted. For a small moment, I wanted to vomit. For one moment, I fully grasped the idea that people really drink water like this: brown, riddled with bits of plant and scum, dead insects, invisible killers. I was almost at break point when-

“Aaaahhhhhh!”

We looked over to see who was screaming, and we saw a little girl, probably around nine years old, running from us and hiding behind adults. She began to run away, still screaming and looking back at us, especially Chase. We still didn’t understand why she was so afraid, except that maybe she was scared of mzungu. But then Alfonse put our confusion to rest: “She thinks it is a gun.” Just as Alfonse explained the girl’s fear, all of the adults around busted out laughing, mostly because this girl was the only one afraid, and she was still running from us, now a good fifty yards away, still screaming. It was pretty hilarious; I’m not going to lie: it might be the funniest thing that’s happened during filming.

With the girl gone, the boys walked right into the pond and began to fill up their cans. While I was committed to following Jean-Bosco, I couldn’t do it. I could not walk into that water. Later, I was informed that not getting in was a good idea because there are some parasites that infect you just from water touching your skin. I bent over at the edge of the water and began to fill my jerry can, air bubbling out of the lid, a soothing sound, honestly. I watched some of the boys fill their cans; they would watch the lid and try to swat away the scum to keep it from getting in their can. This worked maybe half of the time. The rest of the time, everything and anything got into their cans. I couldn’t fill my all the way, so I asked one of the boys to do it. While he was filling it, he told me that he can make up to four trips a day, and it takes him an hour to get to the water. I couldn’t imagine spending eight hours in a day hauling dirty water. But they have no choice; at least, they used to have no choice. But now that the well is being put in, they’ll be able to get clean water, though they’ll still have to haul it to their houses.

After filling our jerry cans, we began to head towards JB’s (Jean-Bosco) house. I tried to mimic his method of carrying the jerry can, but I couldn’t keep it on my head well. On top of that, my cap wasn’t airtight. Water kept sloshing on me every time I lifted the can onto my shoulder. I haven’t even mentioned the fact that water is heavy. It was no easy feat trying to carry that jerry can around, especially when we started heading up the hill toward his house. Halfway up the first hill, Chase had to stop filming because he needed to go back to the rig and film the crew putting in the casing for the well itself. So that left just Ryan and Alfonse with me. Ryan had his Vixia (he calls it his popgun), which really isn’t a bad camera. So he filmed me on our water walk. I was already tired halfway up the first hill, and I realized we didn’t have any water for me to drink. And it gets hot here. So Alfonse offered to carry the can some of the way, so I didn’t get too dehydrated.

I talked into the camera every now and then, just sharing how tired I was or how amazing these kids were for carrying so much water all the way without needing to stop or take a break. After Alfonse and I switching off for a while, I took the Vixia from Ryan and he carried the water for a while. After about one kilometer, most of the kids stopped at a house, while JB and I continued. The small group of boys dropped off their jerry cans and returned to follow us to JB’s place. We passed several fields, most of which were covered with banana trees. JB told us that he lived just beyond the banana plantation. Ryan and I were glad that it was close, because we were both becoming exhausted and dehydrated. We kept walking; most of the walk was uphill, but there were a few portions that were small plateaus of sourgum or banana tree fields. It was strange: I realized how beautiful everything around was, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything except the jerry can digging into my shoulder. It was miserable.

Finally, we came to a small mud cube, roofed with spare sheets of rusted aluminum. This was JB’s house. He walked into his house and methodically set down his jerry can, careful to make sure the leak on the can was facing up, so as not to drain all the water he’d worked so hard to carry here. In front of the house was a shoddy cow pen, constructed out of sticks and rope. Inside, two cows stood beside one another, staring at us. This cows were actually milk cows, which is rare in Rwanda. The people here have traditionally owned long horn cows (which only produce one liter of milk a day), and the government has attempted to integrate regular milk cows (which produce up to fifteen liters a day).

When we asked JB what he wanted to use our water for or where we could pour it, he said it could be for the cows. We poured the water into a dented pan that was on the ground inside the pen. Half of the jerry can filled the pan, and JB held it up for the first cow to drink. The pan was empty less than a minute later, so we repeated the process for the second cow. JB told us he will boil the water he brought for his family. He explained that when he boils the water, scum and visible bacteria comes to the surface, and he tries to splash it off the top in an attempt to clean the water.

After the cows had been watered, JB showed us his home. We walked inside the dirt home and our eyes had to adjust to the darkness. The only light in the first room (which was the size of a large closet) came in through the doorway, which our bodies were blocking. When we stepped aside, the room was dimly lit by the incoming sunlight. The first room was crowded with an assortment of rusted or dirt covered possessions: an old bike, a splintered bench, a fly-covered clay pot, and a small pile of bowls and pans. JB told us the pile of bowls and pans (which smelled of vomit and rotten fruit) is what he uses for cooking. We asked if his mother cooked at all, and he said that she does cook when he’s not around, but whenever JB is home, he cooks for his three younger brothers. His brothers’ names are Jesuwa, Izabarimana (which means “It’s God Who Will Determine”), and Bebe. JB said he didn’t know how old his brothers were, because they haven’t been baptized. JB explained that he was the only one in his family baptized, which is why he has a Christian name.

Next, JB showed us where he and his brothers sleep. He opened a door to reveal another closet- sized room, this one much darker nearly empty, save for a tattered blue tarp on the floor and a clothesline that hung near the ceiling. The only light for this room was from a small window, which appeared to have been punched out of the mud wall. It was the size of a watermelon, and it was covered with a mesh sheet. The only problem with the mesh was that the holes were too tiny to let a decent amount of light in and too big to keep bugs out. Again, I felt a strong realization: this is someone’s room. People sleep here and call this home. I didn’t know if I should feel guilty for being so wealthy, or sad because I knew JB would help me much more than I would help him. In the end, I felt blank, and then both emotions came at me in a fury. However, I could feel some amount of hope, because the well would be ready for him to use by the end of the week, and that is a step towards a better life.

There is a third room in JB’s house, and I suspect it is where his parents sleep. He didn’t offer to show us the room, nor did we ask to see it. We did ask where his parents were. JB said his parents were in the fields, digging. Alfonse explained that JB’s parents are farmers, and they farm for potatoes, tomatoes, anything they can. JB went on to say that they farm all day, only coming home every now and then. That’s why JB has to take care of his brothers and do all the cooking. He is the third parental unit in his household. He even has the mindset of an adult. I tried to ask him if he had a favorite sport or game that he liked to play with his brothers or friends, and he said he liked running around and swimming. He couldn’t think of anything else he enjoyed doing, because he has no time for games, no time for goofing around. He’s a fifteen (probably younger) year-old, school- attending, working guardian.

After showing us the inside of his home, JB took us around back where he cooks. Some blackened rocks were lying in a broken circle, ash covering the ground. JB gets his fire started setting some grass on fire with a match, and then trying to get the grass to ignite some sticks. That’s his fire. That’s what he cooks with. We asked what he cooked, and he said, “Amazi”. Water. It’s not atypical for JB to have nothing more than some water and maybe a few potatoes for food.

While he was showing us where he cooks, JB said he needed to leave for school soon. He goes to school in the afternoons some days, the morning others. Not wanting to make him late, Ryan and Alfonse and I headed back to the dig site. On our way, we met up with Esther, Travis, Moses, and Whitney. They had been trying to find us, but we hadn’t answered the phone because we’d been filming. We took them back to JB’s house so they could at least see it.

On returning, we saw that JB had changed out of his tattered, too big shirt and brown shorts into a somewhat smaller, less dirty blue polo and khaki shorts. Suddenly, he didn’t look so bad. He looked like a regular school kid, just dirty from playing with friends. Esther took some pictures and neighboring kids started to gather around, probably wondering what the mzungu commotion was all about. While kids stood around and watched, Alfonse asked JB if we could come back today and film him walking again (this time with Chase and the big camera). JB said that was ok. After taking a group picture, JB picked up his meager pile of papers and notebooks and headed to school with his friend Etienne.

We all regrouped at the rig site, where Chase was waiting to get a shot of clean water (water had been shooting up for hours, but it was all muddy water; Chase was waiting for the crew to filter the hole so the water would come out clear). Unfortunately, he ran out of battery before he could get the shot he wanted, but we still got some great footage. Overall, it was one of our most productive days. On top of that, we had a personal connection and a chance to return for more in-depth footage. We came back to the apartment completely exhausted. Most of us fell asleep; others showered and snacked. Chase dumped footage onto the computer (which looks rocking), Esther worked on editing some of her favorite photos of the day (which look amazing), and I washed some of my shirts and unmentionables (which smelled atrocious). As we were sitting around, hanging out, Joel walked in. He surprised us a little bit, but we knew we were booked to have dinner with him that evening. Still, he kind of surprised us and showed up a little earlier than expected. We greeted him and woke up those who were still napping.

Joel had brought his dad and a taxi driver in order to get all of us over to his house. So we said goodnight to Alfonse and let him go home. We all got into the cars and made our way over to Joel’s house, which is on the other side of Kigali. Joel rode with Ryan and Chase and I. He told us about the computer tech classes he’s been taking lately (he said he’s had some tests that have kept him busy). He told us about his dad, who is an entrepreneur and a real estate owner.

We made it over to Joel’s house, which is gated like Alain’s. Joel’s house has a groovy garden area where his mother grows different vegetables, including papayas, lemongrass (which she uses to make tea), and sugarcane. Joel actually cut us some sugarcane to eat. Chewing on the sugarcane fibers was like having a hundred tiny soggy toothpicks in my mouth, and when you sucked on them you could taste sugar in its rawest form. It was delicious. We relaxed and listened to some R&B (favorite song of the night: “Come Back to Me, Shorty” which is pronounced “shawday”; you should have seen Josh jamming to that song: epic). We watched Joel’s dad open soda bottles in the most awesome fashion (he uses an unopened bottle to hit the one he wants to open and voila! the bottom bottle pops open. We sat back and sipped Fantas as we munched on some salted peanuts Joel had roasted. He actually confessed to being something of a cook. Apparently, he helped prepare a fair amount of the dinner we ate that night.

Before we ate, though, a handful of Joel’s friends arrived in waves. First to arrive was Jean-Marie and Aline. They were both quiet but very nice. They both spoke some French, so I tried to converse with them a little. I got in a lot of practice with my French last night, because Joel and his parents are Francophone (that is, French-speaking).

Next to come were Wilson (one of Joel’s friends) and Henriette (who is Philibert’s sister and Joel’s cousin), and then Cynthia (another friend) shortly after. Wilson and Henriette spoke English very well, which was relieving. I admit I was afraid that his friends wouldn’t speak any English and we’d be stuck trying to communicate small bits of information back and forth. Instead, we got to converse with Joel and company about geckos (they’re called icyungu in Kinyarwanda; there were a few on the ceiling of Joel’s porch, which Chase Hienrich and Gilbert), tongue twisters (they told us some kinyarwanda tongue twisters, and we showed them how Peter Piper picked a peck…), and who can throw a peanut into someone else’s mouth (Chase and Joel landed theirs in mine and Josh’s, respectively).

Aside from that, Esther was goofing around with her personal camera, and she educated the group on long exposure pictures. I had never heard of this before, nor had many others in the group. Essentially, a long exposure picture is just a picture that doesn’t take for a whole minute. The camera literally spends an entire minute taking the picture. The fun thing to do with it, though, is to have someone stand in the frame of shot for only half the time, so the other thirty seconds there is nothing. That way, when the camera creates the image, the person is only half there, transparent like a ghost. We goofed around with that for a few minutes, and Josh tried to stay as still as possible while the rest of us made faces and Wilson told him there was a snake in the garden to get Josh to move or laugh.

After goofing for some time, Joel’s mother came and told us that all of the food was ready. We went inside and found our second cornucopia of Rwandese delights: peas and carrots (check), white rice (check), Rwandan beef that was almost like pot roast (check), peppers (that was new), green oranges (new and slightly scary), an unnamable fruit (new), red sauce like at Alain’s (check), and frites (check check check check check check check).

We piled our plates with food and all conversations died at the tips of our forks. Some of us were brave (Esther ate a green orange and Whitney tried an unnamable fruit), others were stupid (Chase ate an entire pepper and said he now knows what a heart attack feels like; Ryan ate half and experienced a quarter life crisis), and others were still singing “Come Back to Me, Shorty” (that would be me and Josh). The food was delectable, and this time the beef was warm, which was a more familiar temperature. We cleaned our plates and some of us piled more on, while others were eyeing the desert.

For desert, Joel’s mother had prepared a fruit salad made of papaya, banana, and pineapple. Aside from that, there was chocolate swirl cake bread and regular cake bread. The trick was to spoon the fruit salad on top of the cake bread, creating a delicious kind of fruit cake (but not the nasty kind that you make and send to relatives, more like the delicious kind concocted by yours truly). For an after-dinner drink, Joel’s mother prepared some lemongrass tea, fresh from the backyard and into the boiling water. I’m telling you, this tea was amazing. It may be the best tea in the world, at least, that’s what Esther said. It was sweet without being sweetened, tasty without being doctored, and just plain wonderful. I want more of that tea. Right now. That’s how good it was.

After eating and talking and eating and sipping and talking some more, we ended the night with a few pictures and one last chorus of (you guessed it) “Come Back to Me, Shorty”. We thanked and thanked Joel’s mother, said goodbye to Joel’s friends as they left, and then Joel and his father drove us back. We thanked them for their hospitality, telling them how wonderful the evening was. They kindly accepted our thanks and said they’d had a blast, too. After thanking them once more, we said goodnight and we prepared for an early morning. We were supposed to go to bed, but Ryan and I ended up staying up late: I was trying to write about the day, and Ryan was trying to beat his computer at chess. By the end of the night, I was leaning next to Ryan, advising him on where to move and asking him about chess. You may not know, but Ryan and I both used to be pretty good at chess. I was in chess club in elementary school, and Ryan as a competitive chess wiz-kid for some years (no joke, I couldn’t make that up). At last, we went to bed, having defeated the computer several times and not having written more than two pages, which is why this post is a little late.

There will be more posts soon. We’ve had some crazy adventures this week, and I’m scrambling to write it all down. Thanks for your prayers. It’s Wednesday now, and we’re rocking and rolling. I’ll get to writing more, don’t worry. Grace and Peace.

TW

We definitely enjoyed Saturday evening, despite the fact that a driver recommended by a friend ended up totally hosing us by charging ten thousand francs (about twenty bucks) for a five minute ride. There was some miscommunication as to how much we would cost, and we made the mistake of getting in the vehicle before agreeing on the price. We were pretty upset about it, and when he came back to pick us up later, we told him (semi)kindly we did not want his services anymore.

Still, the BBQ going-away party with our friends from IJM (International Justice Mission) went really well. We were invited by Esther’s friend Laya, who is interning for IJM. We had a lot of fun hanging out and eating burgers. The guy who was leaving is a Scottish law-school grad, and he’s heading back to Glasgow to continue with internships. While we were talking and enjoying everyone’s company, who should arrive at the party but Moses, the youth minister for Christ’s Church in Rwanda! We laughed and hugged him, and he explained that he and Allie were friends. We all ate burgers and talked about our different experiences in Rwanda. We listened to music and joked around with new friends, and everyone was very kind. While we were at the party, we played our One Thing Game. Here’s Saturday’s results:

One Thing Game: Taylor: Hose-blown screw-jack (That’s the word I came up with for the verb of what that driver did to us. We were talking about him later and we couldn’t put into words what he’d done to us, because it was worse than being cheated or hosed: so that’s the phrase I created). Travis: Ryan’s Murphy’s Law. (The craziest and most hilarious things happen to Ryan) Josh: Dancing queen. Whitney: Morose. Chase: Amazi (that’s kinyarwanda for “water”) Moses: Kigali’s boring. Esther: (She forgot to film herself saying something) Ryan: If I married a Ugandan my mom would kill me. (It’s a long story that confirms Ryan’s Murphy’s Law)

Side note: I got to ride on a moto-taxi. There were too many of us to ride in a taxi one time, so I rode on a moto-taxi. For those of you who are unaware, a moto-taxi is a motorcycle taxi. They’re all over Kigali: guys ride around on these green Suzuki bikes, and you hop on the back (usually they have a helmet for you—don’t worry, Mom, I wore a helmet) and it’s cheaper than a cab. The moto-taxi drivers are notorious for dangerous, in-and-out kind of driving, so naturally I was curious. Thankfully, there wasn’t a lot of traffic when I rode, and we were on a relatively straight road with no sharp turns. Still, it was fun and I am the only one in the group who has ridden one. Hazzah!

After a late night of hanging out, we split up to grab taxis and five us ended up crammed into one cab. As we were driving, there were two police stationed who stopped our car. The driver and the policemen talked for some time in kinyarwanda (we heard the world mzungu being thrown around a bit, and we started to pray silently, desperately). The policemen took our driver’s license and papers, which didn’t look like a good sign to us. After the talking stopped, our cabbie drove up fifty feet or so and pulled over, shut off the car, and walked back to where the policemen were. We sat for a few minutes, wondering if we should just bail and try to find a new taxi, but before we could do anything the cabbie walked back to us with his papers and then we headed to the apartment. Thank heavens nothing happened. That taught us not to pack in too many people in taxis late at night. We fell into bed and were grateful church doesn’t start until ten in the morning.

At church, there was a greater amount of songs in kinyarwanda, which was really awesome. The melodies and rhythm in those songs was really bright and momentous in a way that I haven’t really felt in American worship. It was awesome. Bryan delivered a lesson about being God’s children, which I enjoyed. Too often do Christians overly focus on being mature and growing up, when Jesus told us to have faith like children, even if that means hoping against hope for people, and maybe being what the world would call naïve. But today’s service was a great last Sunday service in Rwanda.

For lunch, Laya (she came with us to church) suggested we go to Bourbon Coffee for lunch, and we all agreed. Moses joined us, and the Hixons gave some of us a ride because they were going to eat there, too. We all sat down and ordered our meals. I got beef lasagna (I was craving something familiar, plus I love pasta) and a Very Berry Breeze smoothie, which was both expensive and delicious. We were sitting and talking, waiting for our food to come when we saw someone walk into Bourbon. Esther pointed, and I stared. “Is that really him?” I asked, unsure. All of us were wondering if someone that famous and that random had really just walked into Bourbon Coffee at the MTN Center in Kigali, Rwanda.

But it really was him. It really was Ben Affleck. We whispered and theorized as to why he was here, and we started talking about celebrities we’d met in the past. Laya lives in LA for a time, so she had quite a few stories (Legally Blonde was filmed at her school), and Esther had a fair amount, too (hanging out with Kirsten Dunst). I told the group about when Tom Brokaw declined being in a picture with my family in New York. We continued to speculate about what Mr. Affleck (that’s what I called him—what? We weren’t on a first name basis) was up to: whether he was doing a film here, or if he was doing some business with Bourbon Coffee, or if he was just vacationing and happened to come to the same coffee shop as us.

Ryan proposed that I should go talk to him, to ask for a picture with the group. I told Ryan that I’d do it, if the right chance came up. He was clearly in the middle of some kind of meeting, and I wasn’t going to interrupt. We ate our food and continued to wonder about Mr. Affleck. As lunch was coming to a close, I got up to use the restroom. I passed by where he was sitting on my way back to the table, and I saw that a woman who appeared to be his friend/assistant was walking around, looking at the Bourbon shirts on sale. I walked over and the following conversation ensued:

“Excuse me?” “Yes, hi.” “Hi. I’m with a group of university students, and we’re filming a documentary.” “Oh, really? What is your documentary about?” “Well, it’s about water distribution, and the fact that a lot of people don’t have clean water.” “Oh, awesome.” “Yeah, we got to go out to the Eastern Province and film, and we interviewed the mayor of the Kayonza district.” “Oh, wow. Awesome.” “Yeah, and we were wondering if we could get a picture with Mr. Affleck.” “Oh, sure, no problem! Where are you guys sitting?” “We’re over by the door. We certainly don’t want to cause a scene or anything.” “Oh, yeah. Well, we’re just about the finish and pay, so if you’ll just pop up when we’re leaving and we’ll do it on the way out.” “Awesome, thanks a lot. I’m Taylor, by the way.” “Whitney. Hi, nice to meet you. Are you enjoying Kigali?” “Oh, yeah. Rwanda is absolutely beautiful.” “Yeah, I love Rwanda.” “Well, thanks a lot.” “Oh, sure. It’s no problem at all.”

I walked back to our table with a smile. I told them what was going down, and ten minutes later Ben Affleck was walking our way. We got up and we all shook his hand. He introduced himself as Ben (now we’re on a first name basis), and we told him about our documentary and about Wishing Well. He told us he liked the concept, and he was impressed by the fact that we were here filming. He told us that he was here to meet with the owner of Bourbon Coffee, because Bourbon Coffee is hopefully coming to Boston! We were pretty excited about that, and we were glad that he seemed cool with Wishing Well.

We swapped business cards and contact information and he told us he would at the very least be able to send our documentary to friends in the business. We also got the business card of Whitney Williams, who’s the founder and president of Williams Works, an international networking company. Whitney told us that if Ben forgot about us or didn’t follow through with forwarding on the documentary to others, we could always contact her and she would make sure it happened. We left Bourbon with our heads spinning and our hearts pumping.

Since then, we’ve been back at the apartment and we’ve been hanging out and filming personal interviews for the documentary. Laya and Moses have been chilling with us, too. We actually just got word that some wells that Living Water is drilling for charity:water are going to be dug tomorrow, Monday. Esther has photographed for charity:water before, and she confirmed with them that whatever she shoots or what we film, charity:water will use it on their website, which is amazing because charity:water is huge! This could be a great connection for Wishing Well, so be praying that tomorrow’s filming and photography goes well. God is continuing to blow our minds and show us that He still has a ton of work cut out for this week.

Tonight we’re going over to the Hixons to have dinner with them. We wanted to take them out to eat, but they beat us to the punch and invited us over first. We really can’t thank them enough. They said they’re making some Mexican food, so now we’ll have some delicious African Mexican food (ha, sorry if that was lame—the first one probably was, too). Keep checking esther’s flickr profile (www.flickr.com/photos/eshterhavens) because she’s been uploading more pictures. Also, you might be seeing Wishing Well posing with Ben Affleck on Facebook, so watch out for that.

At any rate, God is making all kinds of crazy things happen, and it is huge and amazing and a little scary, but He will guide us through this whole last week and proclaim His glory through our work. Watching what God is going to do is going to be amazing. Thanks for praying. Grace and Peace.

TW

It was nice to sleep in a little on Saturday. We had a little bit of breakfast (sort of—I just munched on some bread). Something goofed up with our cell phones when we were trying to call Alain last night, so we never got in touch with him, which was a little frustrating. Still, I can’t complain about being able to sleep in a little bit. It was really nice being able to relax and rest up.

To try and be productive, we’ve been brainstorming about the documentary, and about how we can milk this last week for all it’s worth. We’re continuing to look for a personal story, for some kind of intimate connection that we can bring back home. We’re still praying, still looking for an open heart. I know God will give us what we need for a powerful film. He has provided and protected time and again, and we know He will not stop. As a worship song that has kind been our group anthem says, “Greater things have yet to come. Greater things have still to be done in this city.”

The only thing on our schedule today was to meet up with a guy named Emmanuel, who is the friend of the brother of Joseph, one of the freshman Rwandan students. He met a few of us at Novotel, and then came over to our apartment to talk and hang out with us. Our time with Emmanuel was really informative. He works at the genocide memorial, and when he found out we’d already been he asked for our thoughts. That discussion led us to talking about the services we’ve held at OC to commemorate the memory of the victims. On top of that, Emmanuel told us about Rwandan culture in general, and he had some valuable advice about how to document and film effectively in Rwanda. He explained that there are certain ways of being conversational and unimposing with families.

We have been planning to go to Joseph’s village, which is in Gikongoro. While talking with him, Emmanuel actually offered to come with us to Gikongoro, which is awesome. We were excited for him to come with us because his English is excellent. Hopefully, Emmanuel is the person God will use to help us find a family that will share their story with us. Emmanuel’s story is pretty powerful, too. He grew up in the Eastern province, and he told us about having to wake up at three in the morning to get water for his family. So hopefully he’ll be a good interview, too.

For tonight, we’ve been invited to a barbeque with one of Esther’s friends. It’s a farewell party for someone from IJM (International Justice Mission). We’re excited to have some social downtime with some fellow mzungu, and to eat some African American barbeque (ha, ha).

In the meantime, Josh and Whitney are working on painting our jerry cans so that we can use them for our water walk. Also, Esther has just finished posting her pictures on her flickr profile, and we’re trying to get them attached to the blog. It took her four hours to post five pictures! For now, you can see them here:

www.flickr.com/photos/estherhavens

Naturally, we’re a little tired of messing with the Internet here. On top of that, we’ve been praying, brainstorming, and gearing up for our final week here. Thanks for all the kind emails and messages: we are all a little homesick in our own personal ways. We appreciate your prayers so much. It’s amazing to see God’s community circle around a group and shower them with prayer and encouragement. Grace and Peace.

TW

It’s Friday evening now, and we just got back from the day’s activities. We first went the Kigali Memorial Center, which commemorates the victims of the Rwandan genocide. The museum is painful to experience, but one leaves with a sense of determined perseverance for peace among all peoples. I cannot explain how I feel at the moment, except that I have two quotes engrained in my mind from the museum.

The first was on the wall in one of the main rooms, which had several beautiful and tragic sculptures in it. There were a few very powerful quotes in this room, but the most powerful to me was this: “If you really knew me and knew yourself, you would not have killed me.” I stopped when I read this quote. It was true, in my mind. To really know someone and know yourself, how can you kill others, harm others, wish evil on others? The people I really know, I cannot do or want bad things for them. And the people in my life that I do hurt, it is only because I do not know them well enough, and I do not know myself well enough. Because this quote is intricately intertwined with one of Jesus’ most famous commands: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” If you know that others hurt the same as you, bleed the same as you, cry as you cry, then how could you hurt them? If you know that others mourn as you do, miss loved ones just like you, then how could you take away their family and friends? You could not. I believe that no one really can do terrible things if they know themselves and know others. An intimate knowledge and companionship with others is a gift and burden to precious and too heavy to ignore. God is in that union, the union between people who really know each other. That is why friends and family usually treat each other so well: because they know one another. And when they don’t, it is because they forget to know themselves.

The other quote was from a survivor interview, and he was talking about losing family and other loved ones. He was holding back tears as he said, “When someone says they have been unhappy for ten years, they mean it.” This struck me because I could not fathom such a thing: to be truly unhappy, sincerely distressed for a decade. I cannot imagine such sorrow because I have been blessed. God has kept me from experiencing any particularly devastating amount of personal loss or violent persecution. I have been protected, sheltered, coddled, in many ways. I thank God I have not been hurt, have not suffered like those of the Rwandan genocide. I cannot imagine losing my family, my friends, my girlfriend. I have been so lucky. Most of our group has been incredibly blessed. This immediately separated us from the victims, from being able to fully appreciate the memorial. But God still used it to speak to us.

The museum was sectioned into three parts: 1) a section about the Rwandan genocide 2) a section about genocide and a few famous genocides 3) a section about the children who died in the Rwandan genocide (this may have been the toughest section). Before we went inside, a guide walked us around the outside of the museum, where we saw the meditation garden and three different tiers of mass graves. These graves just looked like concrete slabs, though a few flowers were on different graves. There was no fee to enter the museum itself, though there was a donation box. As a group, we donated what we felt was appropriate.

Once we were inside, we all went at different paces, some of us crying, others simply staring silently at the images of death and cultural destruction. All of us are forever impacted, that much is certain. A group of Rwandan youth arrived while we were there, and they were all wearing shirts that said, “Genocide Never Again”. Once we finished with the museum, we sat outside, some of us walking around the surrounding memorial gardens, others sitting and thinking or praying. I walked around for a little bit, and as I was walking I passed one of the youth wearing the shirt. She was a girl about my age, and she was weeping, hanging on a young man who was walking her to a bench. I wondered what she had lost in the genocide. Walking past her, I stared at the flame of mourning burning right in front of the museum. It burns from April until July, in order to give the nation a period of annual morning.

We came back to the apartment and ate eating lunch. We waited for Justin from Living Water to come over and take us to an orphanage that is about to get a well. Living Water just broke ground at the site, so we went to film a bit of the process of putting in a well. Justin came over and we followed him to the site. He told us that the site is actually where an entire community is going to be living, to include an orphanage in which widows take care of ten or so children apiece, a church, a clinic, and a school. They want to build the community around a secure water source, and they hired Living Water to drill a borehole there.

Unfortunately, the drilling today was unsuccessful. We arrived to find the drilling team cleaning up the site and preparing to leave. They had spent about eight hours drilling one hundred and five meters deep, which was the maximum depth they could drill safely, and they hadn’t found water. We interviewed Justin about how often projects are unsuccessful and why this project was unsuccessful in particular. He told us that projects like this one happen very rarely for Living Water, and he explained that this project failed because it is not in the most ideal situation. He admitted that he would not have chosen this particular spot, simply because it was a little risky to dig there, but he was willing to give it a try because of the community it would help create. He told us that his team is going to reevaluate the land and find another place to try and dig. They are not giving up yet.

After seeing the unsuccessful borehole, Justin took us to two of their more recent successful hand pumps. We were so excited to see clean water provided to the people of Rwanda. What surprised us was that the water is so clean even we could drink it. When Justin told us this, we were a little hesitant. One of his colleagues, Claude, said, “Ground water: it’s God’s filter.” It was clean enough to drink the water, they said. So we did. A few of us took turns pumping while the rest of us cupped our hands and enjoyed cool, clear, clean water. Then Justin walked us down to the place that people had previously been getting water. It was a brown creek of irrigation runoff. We thanked God that people weren’t getting water they anymore. Then Justin took us to the second pump (which was just installed yesterday), where we found a few children filling their jerry cans with water. We were able to interview a few of them, and it was exciting to hear their responses about having clean water from a reliable source. One of the kids pumped water for me while I got a drink. He laughed and I smiled, water dripping off my chin and onto my shirt. Going to these two pumps was the encouragement we needed. It felt like seeing our dream realized.

That’s what happened to us today. Now here is what happened to us on Wednesday and Thursday on our trip to the Eastern Province (I’m all caught up now).

Wednesday

Wednesday morning, we were definitely exhausted. We were falling asleep on the ride to the Mayor’s office, or most of us were. When we arrived, the mayor wasn’t in, but two guides were waiting for us. Unfortunately, their English was not very good, and we had parted with Paul on Tuesday (I forgot to tell you about that: we dropped Paul off on the way to our hotel. We all hugged him and said thank you repeatedly), so we were at a little bit of a disadvantage. One of our guides was named Massoud, and none of us ever got the other guy’s name. In truth, Wednesday would prove to be a day of seeing Kayonza’s public water distribution system, which was good to see, but not as impacting as our previous water sights, in my opinion. Still, there were a few moments that were especially challenging and valuable for our documentary.

We first went to one of the main pumping stations. A few years ago, Rwanda partnered with Japan, who helped the Rwandan government to install a water system in some cities, like the one we found in Kayonza. Massoud showed us how the water source is collected in a mini-tank, which transfers the water to a pumping station, which sends the water to a water tank in town, where the water is cleaned through chlorination, and then the water is piped to public taps and some privileged houses. Overall, the pumping station provided water for around eight thousand people.

It was great to hear that some water was being cleaned and provided to the public, but we also saw a scene that crushed us. Right next to the pumping station, there was another mud hole, and children and adults alike were hiking from outside town to this mud hole, and that’s where they were getting their water. All of the water from the pumping station was sent into town, and none of it was sent to the countryside. We understood that the town had more people, and that it was important to get water there, but it was an odd sight, seeing people fill their jerry cans with dirty water not twenty feet from a clean water pumping station. That was tough to see. It definitely made me feel a little accusatory in my heart, because I kept asking myself why they couldn’t have just put a public tap right by the pumping station. That doesn’t seem like it would have been difficult. I was definitely frustrated by the situation, especially after seeing all the people in Nyagatare and Nyamirama who have no clean water, just because they are out in the countryside.

Next, Massoud took us to a portion of the piping system in the town. He brought us to a place where to piping wasn’t working properly, and the closest place for clean water was about two kilometers away. Unfortunately, the piping was in a dark hole, making it kind of difficult to film. While this was not exactly a great place for footage, we did get two interviews, one with a man and one with a young woman named Jacqueline. They both talked about how they get water, and how the public taps have helped them. Other than that, there wasn’t much to film at this site. However, Travis was interested in learning about how people were practically getting water to the public, so this was good for him to see.

Massoud then took us to the main water source collection. We parked in a dirt lot on a hill, and then we had to hike a steep trail for about five minutes. The trail was rocky and uneven, a difficult task for the people we passed who were carrying water back up to their homes. Still, when we arrived, we found a building that contained a pumping system, and we also found fresh water coming from a tap on the side of the building. People were lined up, filling their jerry cans and hiking away.

We began to film people getting clean water, and then we interviewed a woman who worked for the company in charge of the pumping system. She explained that the pump collects several different local sources, and then pumps it to the town’s water tank, just like the first pumping system. I asked her why there weren’t any public taps for the countryside, and she said she wasn’t in charge of that decision. She confessed that she was an accountant for the company and not any kind of authority on the subject. After the interview, she walked away looking upset.Travis later confronted me about asking accusatory questions, and we had a discussion as a group about finding positive ways to ask questions, instead of accidentally or purposefully accusing anyone. We were all a little tired and frustrated, but God helped us to have patience with one another. We even ended up creating a word for when we were being too negative or complaining, so that it didn’t look like we were arguing in front of people. Our safe word in general: cinnamon. Our safe word about negativity: paprika.

After the interview, Travis and I started to talk about the distribution of water. I admit it: I was frustrated. Earlier, the mayor had explained that the town was putting in fiber-optics. I thought this was a bit ridiculous considering the fact that people in the countryside don’t have clean water. Travis, on the other hand, argued that just because some people don’t have water doesn’t mean the whole rest of the district has to be at a standstill, because that halts development, too. We came to this consensus: development should come from both above and below, and Kayonza has been solely coming from above, benefiting the privileged, leaving behind the people on the bottom rung.After our discussion, we started to hike back up to our van.

On the hike back up, it began to sprinkle. We covered our equipment as best we could and got into the van quickly. Once we were inside the van and on our way, it began to the rain began to pour down. We were thankful it had started after we got inside the van. While we drove, we ate lunch, which consisted of green beans, chicken, and (once again) French fries. We ate quickly as we drove to the next site. The drive over was a little miserable, though, because of how dusty the roads were. As soon as the rain stopped, dust was kicking up from the van and getting into the car. We coughed and hacked, closing the windows and wiping our eyes. Dirt was getting on our faces, in our mouths, all over our equipment. It was not pleasant. Thankfully the drive wasn’t too long.

Our next location was another pumping station, where we were able to interview a technician about how it works. Again, this wasn’t the best place for footage (rather, any exciting or powerful footage) but it was good to become informed about the Kayonza water distribution. While Travis was learning more from the technician and Chase was filming some beautiful Rwandan landscape, the rest of us played with the kids who were hanging around. I started to myachi for them as usual, but one of the kids wanted to play with me. I noticed that his right hand was disfigured and limp, and it saddened me. I felt bad for putting on a show with my hands to someone who could only use one. But then he asked to try, so I put it on his good hand and he passed it to me. I juggled it for a bit, then tossed it to him and he hit it with his hand back to me, smiling and concentrated. He and I passed the myachi back and forth for ten minutes before we had to leave. Some of the other kids tried to pass it with us, but they couldn’t seem to get the hang of it like this one boy. I felt a small joy as we drove away, like maybe I’d made him feel good about his hand-eye coordination, like maybe a boy who usually isn’t very good with his hands felt special for his ability with the myachi.

Driving to back to the mayor’s office, we played the One Thing Game. Wednesday’s results are as follows:

One Thing Game: Josh: Cinnamon. Esther: Je suisfatigué. (French for I am tired) Travis: Too much dust. Taylor: Dirt-mouth rinse. Ryan: Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink. Whitney: Meh! (Her version of a goat.) Alfonse: Small bushes. Chase: Yep.

We got the mayor’s office, but he wasn’t there yet. We found out he was on his way over, so we sat and prepared for the interview with Mayor Damas. I helped Travis figure out what some good questions were to ask him. Travis was conducting the interview partly because he was the mayor’s main contact, and partly because of a series of unforeseen and best-unexplained events (ask somebody in the group you know). When the mayor arrived, we get set up for the interview and began. Mayor D was a little stiff during the interview, but that’s just life sometimes. He still had some great things to say, and we were grateful for all of his help. Overall, the interview was ok (except for Josh coughing during one part; I had to hold the boom mic for him).

After the interview with Mayor Damas, we thanked him and said goodbye. We headed to a guest house called Seeds of Peace, which is run by the Anglican Church. We arrived and found a bunch of bungalows. We secured two bungalows for the night, because each bungalow could fit four people. We ordered dinner and said goodnight to Alfonse, who went to stay at a different hotel. We all hung out in one of the bungalows, listening to worship music and dancing to Michael Jackson. After two hours of hanging out and singing, dinner arrived. We had one whole Tilapia, two whole chickens, and (of course and again to the point that we’re sick of them) French fries. We ate quickly; we were all pretty hungry. After dinner, we watched the first half of Garden State, a movie I hadn’t seen in a few years. We didn’t finish it because it was getting late and we were all pretty exhausted. We went to our separate bungalows and did our best to fall asleep. As Ryan and I were getting into our beds (we shared a room), I was about to fall asleep when I heard Ryan scream, “Oh, no! Out, out! No way, get out of here!” I started up, thinking he’d been swarmed by malaria-possessed mosquitoes. Turns out he was fussing over the blanket on his bed. I asked him what was the matter, and he showed me the embroidery on the donated blanket. It had the name of some hospital, and underneath that it said, “Sick Bay”. I laughed and Ryan said thanks a lot, and then we went to bed.

Thursday

We woke up Thursday and ate what was (in my opinion) our most depressing breakfast: plain bread and cold eggs. To be fair, the eggs weren’t cold when they came to our bungalow, but I was slow to get out of bed. At any rate, all of us were feeling like we were ready to get back to Kigali and crash. However, the mayor had arranged for us to go to Akagera National Park, where he said we could see some wild game. This had sounded like a good idea, but it didn’t feel like one at seven thirty in the morning. We all fell asleep on the way over to the park, but once we got there, we all perked up, especially when I saw a baboon hanging out by the parking lot. That’s right, a red-butt baboon was just chilling by the parking lot. We all got pretty excited after that.

Before heading into the park, we went to meet the warden, who seemed to perpetually have a huge smile on his face. He told us about the possibility of seeing lions, leopards, elephants, hyenas, giraffes, hippos, and other African wildlife. While he was talking, we looked at each other with anticipation in our eyes, ready to head into the park in one of their Range Rovers. Unfortunately, we did not get to ride in any groovy Range Rovers. We ended up taking on Akagera National Park in our Toyota Hiace. Passing some cars, we saw a baboon hanging out on top of a Toyota truck. I’m not sure if that was bad omen or a good one, but we charged toward the park with a little bit of nervousness and a lot of cameras (I’m pretty sure I was the only one without a camera—to the disappointment of my parents who say, “You go all these places and never have any pictures”; don’t worry, Mom and Dad: I’ll have plenty of other people’s pictures to show you).

We drove for a while, but we saw nothing. Just uber-bumpy roads and bush. Oodles and oodles of bushes. I was getting a little worried that we’d come at a bad time of the day, or perhaps there was a secret African photographic hibernation period for all awesome looking animals (I bet they get tired of the cameras). We drove some more, and finally we spotted a lone giraffe. We stopped and took pictures, excited to see our first wild African animal. Everyone got pictures and video except for Esther, who was on the wrong side of the van when we pulled up.

After the giraffe, we drove some more and saw some waterbuck antelope, which was cool, I guess (antelope aren’t really all that exciting to me). I got excited when we got to see the savannah zebras. They were beautiful. Honestly, they looked like painted ponies. I almost couldn’t believe God really makes them like that. They look awesome. Just as we were watching the zebras, we saw a small heard of cape buffalo, which were on either side of our van. That was a little intimidating: having a small heard of large buffalo surround our van and just stare at us, chewing grass. We ogled and took pictures, and then we made our getaway.

We drove around some more, and we started singing The Lion King songs, just because Esther started singing and we couldn’t stop ourselves. We even moved on to other Disney classics. We sang for a while, mostly because we didn’t see anything else for a good ten minutes or so. After a bit, though, we came to a small gathering of giraffes. This time we were feeling adventurous, so we got out of the van and took pictures. Next, we moved on to a beautiful lookout point, that also doubled as a camping spot (I don’t know who would want to camp around wild animals, but some people do, apparently). The point overlooked a large lake, and our guide told us that across the lake was Tanzania. Chase got some great footage of the beauty of Rwanda, and Esther took some goofy pictures of us with Tanzania in the background. We had fun, and then we headed down to the waterfront. At the waterfront, we saw hippos poking their heads out of the water, taking a deep breath, and then sinking back into the blue. We were a little scared, just because we’d heard that more people died of hippos than anything other animal in Africa. But nothing bad happened, and we made it out of the park alive.

After saying goodbye to our guide, we got on the road back to Kigali. Most of us slept during the drive back. I was awake for a small amount of time, and I admired how beautiful Rwanda is. Honestly, I haven’t seen a single unattractive portion of the countryside, which contrasts with the concrete and busy streets of Kigali. We headed back to our apartment and moved back in, all of us collapsing into couches and chairs. We went over to Novotel to buy some snacks (we hadn’t eaten since breakfast and it was now almost three in the afternoon). We noshed on pizza and bread, and realized we needed to get some substantial food soon. Ryan, Whitney, and Esther went shopping for groceries while the rest of the guys watched CNN and made fun of the anchors (there was Mango Man, Colleen the blank faced, and this rotund guy with an awful tie).

After the grocery shoppers returned, we went out for dinner at an Italian restaurant named Sole Luna. Bryan had recommended we eat there. Alfonse drove us to Sole Luna, and as we arrived, we decided that the One Thing Game would be about what we’d name our van. We asked Alfonse as he dropped us off, and he gave us his answer. Once seated at Sole Luna, we ordered sodas and perused the menu, which was in mostly French and Italian. Unfortunately, this was the one Italian restaurant in the world that did not serve Fettuccini Alfredo. A few of us were sorely disappointed. But Sole Luna had an impressive pizza menu, so all of us ordered our own pizza (which ended up being larger than we thought). We ordered and waited for good long while. While we waited, we asked everyone else in the group what they’d name the van.

Van Name Results: Chase: Buffalo Blue or Trusty Dusty Esther: Gertrude Taylor: The Toyota Tank Ryan: Humphrey Whitney: Cecilia Josh: Spencer Travis: The Little Van That Could Alfonse: Giraffe

We had a series of votes, which included two different runoffs. It was down to Trusty Dusty versus Giraffe, but then we thought we should name it Africa Magic, and then I had a stroke of genius, and everyone agreed that my idea was the perfect name for the van: Girafrican Magic! We all agreed and ate our delicious pizza. Esther even bought desert because she had promised me that if we didn’t see a lion, she’d buy me gelato. Well, no lions showed at the national park, so I ate some tasty fragola (strawberry) ice cream at Sole Luna.

Another cool thing that happened during dinner was that Esther saw two of her friends at the restaurant, neither of whom she’d seen in a long time. She had known that they would be in town, but what were the odds of seeing them at the same restaurant as us? On top of that, both of the girls work for Food for the Hungry, and the interns they are hiring this summer happen to be two of our Rwandan friends from OC! Small world; big God.

After dinner, we came back to the apartment and crashed, happy to be sleeping soundly. I actually got to sleep in a super-bed with Chase and Josh, which was fun. We don’t have enough beds or couches for everyone, so we took two beds and put them together, and voila: super-bed for three.

So that was Thursday, and now you are all caught up on what is happening with the group. Currently, we are back at the apartment, resting up a little bit and getting ready for tomorrow. Hopefully, we will go over to Alain’s house early in the morning and go with him to where people get unclean water. We hope to do a water walk with him and get some in depth stories from local people. We’ll see how that goes. Be praying that God helps us find some personal stories, some people who will be willing to share their lives with us. Grace and Peace.

TW

So we arrived back in Kigali safely from our trip to the East. Praise God for a great trip and safe journey. Here’s what happened to us on Tuesday. I’ll be trying to catch up soon. The days have been packed with stuff lately, so I'm doing my best to catch back up.

Tuesday

Tuesday morning came a lot earlier than we would have liked. We were definitely groggy as we ate our breakfast of yellow toast (the bread was yellow, don’t ask me why), bananas, passion fruit (which looked like alien brains), and Rwandan type tortillas. Paul and Alfonse picked us up and it was back to bumpy roads and beautiful African scenery. As far as the plant life on Tuesday, the coolest things I saw were the cactus trees. They looked like any other tree, except that the branches were cactuses. It was wild.

The first place we went on Tuesday was Nyamirama Primary School, where we met Safari Felix (groovy name, huh?). Felix is another of Food for the Hungry’s CDP promoters, and he joined us for the rest of the day. Felix introduced us to the deputy headmaster of Nyamirama Primary, who was pretty young to be deputy headmaster, I thought—he looked about twenty five, maybe. At any rate, he was very kind and allowed us to try an idea that the group had: we would provide art supplies for a small group of kids and ask them to depict how they have to get water. Josh and Whitney, our two artists, oversaw the kids who were chosen.

While that was going on, the rest of us played with the rest of the school (it was recess time…rather, recess time seems to show up when we show up). Esther was doing her thing, capturing countless photos of smiling schoolchildren. Meanwhile, Chase decided to get out the crane and try our first crane shot of the trip. Ryan and Travis were helping Chase get that set up, so that left me to try and distract and entertain as many kids as possible so that Chase could have a little bit of room with the camera. Thus, I got out my hand sack and started magnetizing the masses with my magical Myachi abilities (not to mention my mesmerizing alliteration).

For some reason, though, the kids started to get a little bored watching me. So I stooped to my lowest point as the group clown: I started juggling rocks. I picked up two rocks and began to juggle them. The kids started laughing and smiling again, their attention once again captured. So I picked up a third rock juggled some more. I was a little rusty, and the kids would burst into laughter whenever I dropped a rock, which was often. Then I got adventurous: I started to run and juggle at the same time. The kids screamed with delight and giggled after me. I ran in circles around the little dirt field in the middle of the school with some hundred or so kids following me. This lasted for about five minutes, and then I was completely out of breath. I had forgotten that 1) I’m out of shape 2) Rwanda is near the equator and the heat is far more intense and 3) I’m really out of shape.

After stopping and getting something to drink, I saw that Chase and Travis were having a difficult time with the crane. There wasn’t anything wrong with the crane that was giving them problems; it was more the two hundred kids crowding around them that were causing a slight disturbance. So I headed over to guard the crane. This proved to be a more difficult task than I had imagined. With only Travis and I to guard Chase, there were always a few open holes for kids to bump into Chase or the crane. So we got Ryan and Esther to come over and try to help. We managed to get the kids back enough to survive for a small amount of time, a few moments for Chase to get a few decent shots.

After a few minutes of small chaos, I ran off to try and distract kids while Chase packed up the crane. I got to play football (soccer, for the Americans reading) with an African football: a bunch of plastics bags tied together to form a small ball. That’s what kids play with here. I juggled the ball with a few of the kids, and by that time the kids drawing and painting about water were almost done. We plan to use their drawings in future art shows, and even sell prints of them. Even more personal, Esther took pictures of all of the students holding the pictures they created, so people will be able to make an individual connection with the drawings they see. When they did finish, all of the kids returned to class and we were able to interview the deputy headmaster. And that was then end of our time at Nyamirama Primary.

Next Felix took us to our first water source of the day. We came to a small umudugudu and parked, then walked for about half a mile. I was hoping that this water source would be a well, but it was two more mud holes. No one was at the first hole we came to, but there was a man filling up at the second one. He had three large jerry cans and one small one, all of which he filled and strapped on to a bike. We watched as he began the long walk back to the village, pushing his bike all the way. Chase and Esther got some great shots, as usual, but we were still a little disappointed that we hadn’t seen many wells. Of course, that was reaffirming the need for wells here, but we wanted to show the great improvements in a community’s development when a well is in place. But that wasn’t in the cards for us on Tuesday.

Instead, we went to our next water source. This was another small spring pool, but this particular source was right next to a family’s house, the closest we’ve seen a source be to a home. We were able to interview the man who lived in the house, and he told us about a well that used to work in the area, but it broke, so now people come to this spring by his home and get water there. He also explained that instead of having any drinking water, he just makes porridge for himself and his son, and that takes the place of drinking water for his family. It was really tough to have him explain that he doesn’t really have drinking water, and then walk away to our van filled with five liter bottles of clean water for our group to drink. But it was good that we got his interview on film, because it will be a powerful testament to the need of the Rwandan people, especially those in the countryside. By the time we got back into the van, we were all feeling fatigued, hungry, and thirsty. We drove for a minute or two, and then we stopped for lunch.

Our lunch was provided by our hotel (they made and packed our lunches in the morning so we could just eat without having to stop or go back into town). It consisted of two meatballs, peas and carrots, and French fries. The food all looked good, but there was one problem: there was no silverware, save for a toothpick in every boxed lunch. As we picked at our food and talked about the day, I instigated playing the One Thing Game, which we’ve now begun to film with one of Esther’s cameras. Tuesday’s results:

One Thing Game: Ryan: Vicariously. Josh: Pea poker. Esther: Blessing. Whitney: Bité (bee-tay is how you pronounce it; it means “Hello” in Kinyarwanda). Travis: Meatball. Chase: I don’t know. Alfonse: Good landscape. Paul: It’s too hot today. Taylor: Clown face dumbshow.

After lunch, we went to another school, and we all never got the name of this particular primary school. We interviewed the deputy headmaster and two students about their water walks in the morning. The girl we interviewed was named Jacqueline, and she was very shy. She didn’t really speak up loud enough for us to hear her, especially with so many kids at the window of the room we were in screaming. On the other hand, the boy (George) we interviewed spoke up and gave some great answers. It was a learning experience for us to try and get used to interviewing kids instead of adults. But it’s important that we have their stories, because they are powerful, beautiful, and challenging.

While Josh, Chase, and I were filming and interviewing inside, the rest of the group was trying to survive outside. According to them, the children at this particular primary school were especially handsy. Esther said she got swarmed by two hundred kids, all of whom wanted to touch her skin and look at her camera. Travis said he, too, got pinched by lots of kids. It got to the point where Esther and Travis were holed up the van, hoping that the kids would stay away. Unfortunately, they just followed them over to the van, where the kids tried to reach into the windows and take things, namely pens and water bottles. Seeing the children reaching into the van, Alfonse went into a small frenzy, chasing the kids away with a switch and a scowl. For the rest of the time at the school, Alfonse prowled around, protecting the van.

After we finished with our interviews, Chase got a few shots with his ghetto-rigged dolly, which ended up working pretty well. While we waited for Chase to pack up, we had a very small ceremony with the teachers and deputy headmaster, during which Ryan gave them our second football (soccer, remember). The kids were so excited, and even the teachers were excited. The deputy headmaster and another teacher were so excited, in fact, that they juggled the ball for a while. I joined them and we all laughed and enjoyed sharing in the joy of camaraderie and sport.

We left that school and headed back to the Blue Sky guesthouse, where we’ve been staying. We ordered dinner as soon as possible (we learned from Monday night not to wait long). While we were waiting for the food, I went up and wrote for the blog while the rest of the group talked about ways to improve the documentary and focus our filming to make it purposeful. We’re praying that God will give us a few good personal stories to share with the world. Be praying about that for us, that God will open hearts to our cause and let us document their struggles and victories. I’m confidant He will provide all that we need for a powerful film; we just need to be looking in the right places, and with the right mindset.

After dinner, a few of us watched a strange show on a local channel called Africa Magic. The show was very poorly written and even more poorly filmed, which made it all the more entertaining. Incidentally, it was written in English, which was odd, because it was about an African village. It was basically like an American soap opera set in an African village: courtship, betrayal, framing, public shame, etc. It was hilarious. We laughed and laughed at the writing, the acting, and the cinematography. The ending was the best: an innocent woman was being carried off to be executed or tried or something (it was a little hard to follow), and then the screen faded to black. Then the following text came up: “Emeka were later punished for his evil deed.” And then that faded out and the last text came up: “In God we trust.” We fell off the bed laughing, because the ending made no sense and the text made even less sense in relation to the episode we’d just watched. It made me grateful we have someone like Chase with us, to make sure the documentary will look both professional and aesthetically awesome.

Continue to pray for us, as we need it and appreciate it. We’re all starting to get a little tired, so pray that God will help us be energized and inspired to push through our fatigue and fight even harder for group unity. Also, thank God that we have had such a safe time on the roads here so far. Alfonse is an amazing driver. He really is awesome. God has blessed us so much, and I know He will continue to be with us.

Also, Happy Belated Mother’s Day. And thanks to all our mothers for loving us and encouraging us to use our gifts for God. We love you all dearly.

Grace and Peace.

TW

All right, well it’s Wednesday now, and we’ve had two amazing days out in the Eastern province. We’ve gotten some challenging footage, and I can’t wait to see where God leads us next. Here are my entries about Sunday and Monday. I’ll do my best to keep you updated, but I’m not sure when I’ll next have the ability to post. If nothing else, expect a post from me on Friday, because that’s when we’ll get back to Kigali.

Sunday

With the Internet down, we didn’t know when Esther was getting in. But Bryan checked our email for us, and we found out she was stuck in Nairobi and wouldn’t be here till sometime Sunday. We still didn’t know when she’d be in, but she had our info, and she’s an experienced traveler. So we headed over to Christ’s Church, the congregation that the Jenkins and Hixons are leading. We were a little late because the Kigali Marathon was in our way, so we quickly grabbed some seats and began to worship with our brothers and sisters in Christ. I was encouraged and almost surprised at the fervent worshipping. People we showing a passion for worshipping God that I don’t always see back home. And what was amazing is that, because of the marathon, there weren’t a ton of people there, but they were worshipping their hearts out anyway! I constantly allow the number of people in attendance to influence how energetic I get about God, but the members of Christ’s Church reminded me that we should always give out best to the Lord.

The sermon was by a visiting pastor (Nathan G.), and he was passionate about God’s work. He spoke about evangelism, and about how we must have God’s word and work “in your belly, in your DNA” before anyone is going to listen to you. He talked about how we as Christians like to box in God, and we don’t leave room for the Holy Spirit to act and intervene in our testimonies. He went on to explain that nobody wants to choose religion. No one wants to choose rules and regulations and an organized, boxed-in, un-exciting faith. People want Jesus and all the spontaneity and joy that He brings. Because, as Pastor Nathan illustrated, Jesus is the one who will answer for us. When we stand before God, Jesus will speak for us. Our religion will count for nothing, our box-checking righteousness for less. Pastor Nathan (they do the whole Pastor thing here) quoted a verse from Isaiah 64 that says something to the tune of “All of your righteousness is like filth to the Lord.” He delivered the sermon with gusto and volume, getting both excited and frustrated. It was a great lesson, and all of us expressed our thanks and appreciation to Pastor Nathan afterward. A side note: after church was done, we found out that every first time visitors to Christ’s Church are awarded a free soda of their choice. I chose Orange Fanta because it’s delicious and because I wanta Fanta. Don’t you wanta?

After church, we came back to the apartment and ate ham sandwiches and PB&J’s, and watched the news. After a half hour or so, we started to wonder what was going on with Esther. We had expected to hear from her, or even just have her show up at our apartment or at Novotel. The Hixons had told us that it was not uncommon for visiting Americans to just show up somewhere. So we waited a little more, but then we decided it was best to go to the airport and see when flights from Nairobi had arrived or were going to arrive. Ryan hurt himself going down the stairs (they are quite complicated, you know), but thankfully Ryan’s accident delayed Travis and Ryan just enough, because right when they got to the airport, Esther had just gotten off her plane. If Ryan hadn’t hurt himself, he and Travis would have arrived at the airport, found nothing, and come back to the apartment. So thanks God (and way to take one for the team, Ryan).

Esther’s arrival put us all at ease—we had worried that she might not make it in time for our trip to the Easter province. We all sat down and made introductions. Esther is a talented photographer with a bright spirit. She’s been a joy to have on the trip, especially now that Whitney has another girl to hang out with (she was getting tired of five hungry, sarcastic, slightly smelly boys, no doubt). Now that Esther was here, we began to focus on preparing for the trip. Ryan and I spoke to the management at our apartments, and we were able to check out for five days, which saves us a good five hundred and fifty dollars, so praise God. Meanwhile, we began to figure out what food we needed to eat before leaving, what we could bring, and what we could have the Hixons keep for us. We paid our apartment bill, and then headed out to get Esther her fix (she has a serious problem): coffee.

To celebrate Esther’s arrival, all of us went to Bourbon Coffee, a Rwandan Starbucks-esque establishment. A Christian Californian guy who came here started it, and the drinks and food is delicious (but don’t worry folks, there’s no bourbon in their coffee). We had hoped and been told that there would be free wi-fi at Bourbon, but their internet was out, too. So instead of sending emails or posting updates, we sat and enjoyed smoothies, coffee, and various coffeehouse delicacies (it’s all the same stuff, all over the world: croissants, scones, and different kinds of cake bread).

A side note of something I forgot from Saturday: as soon as we got downtown with Alain Saturday morning, we went to the downtown location of Bourbon Coffee. That was our first Bourbon experience, and we enjoyed it so much we wanted an excuse to go there again; Esther was just such an excuse. Also, after eating at Bourbon, Ryan and I found some ridiculously wonderfully hilarious gifts at this Rwandan equivalent to a Dollar General store. Ok, sorry for that brief interruption. Back to Sunday.

When we came back to the apartment from Bourbon, Esther, Whitney, and Travis made dinner, which basically ended up being Capitaine fish (we’d never heard of it, but it was good) and Esther’s version of hash browns: cut up potatoes, onions, mushrooms, and Masala curry powder (which was also on the fish). For dessert, we enjoyed bananas and pineapple, just like at Alain’s. After dinner, we sat around and traded stories about stupid things we’ve done, or traumatically idiotic things that have happened to us. Ryan won with a story I won’t disgust you with; he actually placed First and Third: third for a story about an elephant coming at him with a saw (no lie, he worked at a zoo). Esther took second place for driving a shish kebab stick into her right ear, leaving her completely deaf on her right side. Truly, it was refreshing to sit around and laugh, and just enjoy being with close friends and a new one. God has been so good to us on this trip, and I’m thankful for the people He’s brought around me. I’ve been on plenty of trip’s where group disunity was an issue, and I’m so thankful God has given us a spirit of oneness and a united attitude to help and serve one another.

After packing up and preparing for the morning drive, we went to sleep, ready for Monday.

Monday

At eight o’clock Monday morning, Alfonse (our driver) was outside our apartment with his van, ready to head out. As we brought down our things, Bryan came over to take the bags and food we couldn’t take on the trip. It was very kind of Bryan and Holly to hold our stuff for us, as it kept us from having to over-pack the van and throw away a bunch of food. Packing the van was difficult enough, as we had a large amount of video equipment to take. Basically, all of our bags took up the front seat, so we were sitting in the back, with Chase and Travis up front with Alfonse.

As soon as we made it outside of Kigali, we started snacking by dipping bread into Whitney’s version of Rwandan guacamole. It was cool and delicious. The more we drove, we began to see the Africa we had pictured: rolling green hills covered in banana trees, farmers working throughout the countryside, and mud huts with grass roofs. If I could say anything about the Rwandan countryside, I would say that it is an Eden of verdant life, a vibrant panorama proclaiming the glory of God’s creation. We ogled at the farmlands and hilltops all the way to Kayonza, which was a dusty, dirt- paved town. Thankfully, we knew where we had a map of Rwanda’s highways, which are fairly basic. Essentially, all roads lead to or away from Kigali. We figured that our thanks to the map in Josh’s travel book about Rwanda and it’s culture, which has been incredibly helpful so far (thanks, Mr. Burgin, for giving it to Josh).

We found the mayor’s office in Kayonza, and the rest of the team was introduced to Mayor Damas. We sat down with Mayor D. and discussed the logistics of our trip with him. Just like our last meeting, Mayor Damas was very kind and excited to help us. Our meeting with him Monday was very short, but it was productive. He plans to take us to several water sites, and he even wants to take us to a national park, where he told us we will see wild game. So we are still on good terms with the Mayor, and our trip to the East will now last till Friday.

After the meeting with the Mayor, we met up with Paul from FH in Nyabikiri. With Paul now in the van, we were a little more crowded, but we were excited to finally go to some water sites. First, we went to Nyabikir Primary School, where Food for the Hungry’s office is. It was there we met with Emmanuel, the CDP (Community Development Program) promoter in that area. After talking with Emmanuel, we all packed into the car (it was really crowded now) and headed to a well that FH had put in. We drove down rocky, bumpy roads, nervously praying all the while. Every bump and grind of our van against the road made us wince. But we kept praying, and God and Alfonse took care of everything.

We drove as close to the well site as we could, and then we walked the rest of the way. Before we got the well, we found two small water holes where people were filling their jerry cans. These little water sources looked like swamp water, like pond scum. I was trying to understand why people were getting water from these sources when a well was so close, but then we walked over to well and found that it was broken. According to Emmanuel, the well had been so overused that it continued to break. So instead, people have been getting water out of the small springs right next to the broken well. Travis explained to the rest of the group how getting groundwater like these springs is actually one of the worst kinds of drinking water, because this kind of water has soil runoff, animal feces, and innumerable pesticides. We looked a little closely at the small pools, and we saw that frogs were swimming around in the water at the same time that people were filling their jerry cans.

One amazing thing that we saw at this site was something Esther noticed: one of the pools of water was shaped like Africa. It was as if God was telling us, “This is your mission: to stop this from happening in Africa. Your mission is to empty this continent, this world, these people’s lives of this filth that is both keeping them alive and killing them, and to refill it with both clean water and with the everlasting truth of Jesus Christ, my son.” Despite all we’d already seen, that really encouraged us.

At Nyabikiri Primary School, we met with the deputy headmaster, whom we were able to interview later in the day. He was a kind man, and he has a real heart for the children at Nyabikiri Primary, especially concerning their morning water walks. Oftentimes, the deputy headmaster explained, the many of the students are late to school because they have been getting water for their families and for themselves before coming to class. Of course, this disrupts their education and the education of others, because students come late and have missed out on the morning’s lessons. On top of this, the teachers and headmasters cannot do anything about the student’s being late, because they know it was to fetch water, and they know there is no close source of even somewhat decent drinking water.

Despite the difficulties facing the school, the kids greeted us with smiles and waves. We actually felt a little bad arriving, because as soon as we’d show up, kids would literally run screaming out of their classrooms and come stare at us. Being mzungu is bad enough, but being a young mzungu group with a huge camera is probably the most disruptive thing for a Rwandan countryside school. Still, the children here are amazing. While some of them have been a little grabby or asked for money, most of the kids just want to hang out and get to know you. Still, they swarm Chase as soon as he brings out the camera. Very quickly we realized that if we wanted to get any good camera shots, we would need someone on distraction duty; enter Ryan and Taylor. Ryan distracts the children wielding his Vixia, his handheld video camera. He turns the LCD screen around so the kids can see themselves, and then he just lets them look. They laugh and point as he walks around (usually in a direction away from Chase and our precious Baby—we named the camera) and the kids follow him and try to get into the frame to see themselves. It works relatively well.

I, on the other hand, have been dubbed the group clown. I have this hand sack called a Myachi. It’s a little hacky sack-like sand bag, but it’s rectangle shaped and for your hands. I can juggle it around on the back of my hands, and the children go crazy over it. They swarm around me, laughing and staring, whispering to each other about what kind of a crazy magic man is this mzungu that he can keep a little bag on the back of his hand while he moves it upside down (oh yeah, I’m good). So my version of diversion is to just yell, “Hey! Come over here and look at this!” And then I start to myachi (yes, it is also a verb) and the crowds come running.

We played with the kids while Chase got some footage and Esther took pictures. It’s been inspiring to watch Chase and Esther work: Esther because she’s a skilled professional who devotes herself to getting to know the people she photographs and sharing God’s love with them, and Chase because he’s been getting some amazing shots with one camera, no crew, and a bunch of kids around all the time.

We’ve been to a few schools so far, and basically everyone’s need is the same: we don’t have clean water, and kids are coming to school late because they have to go and get it in the morning. The schools have survived during the rainy season, because they have water tanks connected to rainwater catchments, but this time of the year is the beginning of a very long dry season, which creates all kinds of problems for the kids and teachers. Another unifying problem is the number of teachers and their housing. These schools are made up of between five hundred and two thousand kids, and they only have between fifteen and thirty-two teachers. Some of the schools we have visited are even having class outside because they don’t have enough room for all of the students who come. On top of this, many the teachers live miles away from their schools and have to get up early in the morning to get there on time. Because of the distance and timing, the teachers only drink water in the morning before leaving, and then don’t have anything to drink until they get back to their homes at night. The children, too, often either have to bring their own water or go without. The closest water source to Nyabikiri Primary is located a kilometer or so down a hill behind the school. I didn’t understand why the school didn’t get water from this spring, but then we got there and I fully understood. This particular spring really looked like a very small swamp, or at least a very dirty pond. There was some kind of pond scum along several edges of the spring, and it was very muddy. Mosquitoes were all over the place; this was clearly a breeding ground for future malaria giving insects. As we walked up to it, we saw that a man had his cows by the water, and they were drinking from this trough made of mud right next to the water. Paul explained that herders brought their animals to this water, and they would use their jerry cans to fill the trough with water for the animals to drink. And then they would fill their jerry cans for themselves. These people are drinking the same water as their cattle. We interviewed the man who owned the cows, with Paul acting as translator. He told us about his daily routines, and how his family has to come and get water over and over throughout the day. After that, Emmanuel was kind enough to let us interview him. He spoke about the Nyabikiri community and their need for water, and about how life would improve if clean water were here. While I interviewed Emmanuel, some kids came over to watch, and Esther taught one of them tic tac toe. We all ended up spending a lot time playing with kids throughout the day.

After walking back to the FH office, we ate lunch outside in the shade. We had peanut butter, jelly, and banana slices sandwiches, boiled eggs, crackers, and life-giving, headache-relieving water (a few of us were getting dehydrated from all the walking and the heat, and we knew we needed water when we started having headaches and feeling dizzy—don’t worry, mothers and significant others, we’ve all been drinking plenty of water).

After lunch, the deputy headmaster let us interview him, and then we had to say goodbye to Nyabikiri Primary. There were lots of high fives and handshakes and waves goodbye, and then we were off to our last water source. After some more bumpy riding, we arrived at a small village. Paul and Emmanuel took us down to another water source that looked similar to the others we’d seen already. As usual, people had followed us, attracted by our cameras and our mzungu. We all sort of shrugged our shoulders, simply because we’d already seen this kind of site, but then Paul pointed to our right, and we could see yellow jerry cans. He told us that a clean water well was just within eyesight. Naturally, we were confused why people would get water from a filthy mud hole if there was a well less than twenty five meters away. Paul then explained that the lines are so long for the clean water well, many people will skip waiting in line in the hot sun and get their water from the neighboring spring. Families need water in a timely manner, and cannot wait for hours in line just to get clean water. So they sacrifice sanitation for speed. Because they’re children are thirsty, and they need to wash clothes and cook food. So they use the most convenient source of water, even if it’s not clean. As Travis elaborated, “Thirsty people will drink. It is a need, a drive, an addiction. And it doesn’t matter how dirty the water is. Thirsty people will always drink.”

We got footage of both the clean and unclean water source, and seeing the difference was astounding. The unclean water was murky, and polluted with chunks of mud and who knows what else. The clean water was clear, natural, healthy looking. It looked like water, not diluted mud. It was clear that the people could tell a difference, but with only one clean water source around, too many people use it, rendering it almost hurtful to the community. Because now they have to travel long distances and wait in long lines, which is even more time consuming. In many ways, we were all frustrated and heartbroken by the situation. But it was getting darker, and we needed to get to our guesthouse.

Driving at night in the Eastern Province is not fun. There are bumps and lurches, but now you don’t see them coming. Instead, they just hit you like a huge finger poking your body over and over. On top of that, while we were driving, all of the sudden the van hit something and made a brand new sound, a sound that scared all of us. When Alfonse went to look, he said something about the tire and the spare. Oh great, we thought, now we popped a tire and have to put on the spare, which is not going to last out here for more than five minutes. But when we got the flashlight out, we discovered that Alfonse was talking about how the spare tire, which was stored beneath the car, and hit the ground and both the spare and the small metal frame holding it in place had been knocked loose. We all got out of the car to help or stare. It was getting darker by the minute, and we did not like having to wait around in the dark. Alfonse and Paul were fidgeting with the spare and its frame, trying to slide it back in place under the car. Things were not looking good. I walked over to Travis and asked him how he was doing. “I’m exhausted,” he said. “Really? That’s all you’ve got for me?” I asked, joking with him (we were all exhausted). “If you could say one thing right now, that’s what you’d say?” “Yeah, that’s what I’d say.” And then I got an idea. To lighten the mood, I went around and asked everyone in the group if they could say one thing, what would they say. Thus was the beginning of the One Thing Game. Here are Monday’s results. Travis: I’m exhausted. Ryan: More funner. Esther: Happiness. Josh: Mzungu. Chase: Swedish Fish. Taylor: God is watching. (from that one song) Paul: Thanks, God. Whitney: God is good. Alfonse: Hehehe. (He just chuckled)

By the time the One Thing Game was over, Alfonse and Paul had successfully gotten the spare tire back underneath the van. We all applauded them and thanked God, and got back on the road, ready to eat dinner and sleep. An hour or so later, and it happened again. So this time we put it in the back of the van. When we shut the back door, Paul told us we were actually right next to our guesthouse. We were so grateful to have made it.

We checked in at the guesthouse and unloaded our things, and then Paul and Alfonse took off for a different hotel (the guesthouse was full). All of us debated whether or not we would just go to bed, or if we should eat dinner. We agreed that it would be smart to eat something, so we came downstairs to the little restaurant. When the waiter came up to Chase and Travis and myself, we ordered three bottles of water and he brought us Cokes. This was not a good start. The Cokes were cold and tasted good, but they were not cold, satisfying water. We should have recognized this as a bad omen, but we were too tired to notice God warning us. Instead, we let the others come down and we all had Cokes, until we remembered that “amazi” is the word for water, and then he brought us water bottles. He gave us a menu and we ordered our food, with me as a translator of sorts because the menu was in French.

And then we waited. We talked about all kinds of things to pass the time: the documentary, people’s love lives (or lack thereof, predominately), traveling, couch hopping, safe version of hitchhiking, plans for the summer, daring each other to smell or taste the olive oil lemon pepper sauce (it literally smelled like body odor, really bad sweaty awful yuckbucks body odor) I’m talking we sat around and talked for at least an hour and a half before any food showed up. We debated just telling them to forget it, because we were so tired. But finally the food showed up, but not exactly how we ordered it. Several people had ordered the grilled half chicken, but when they got their food, it didn’t really look like chicken. It looked like a bunch of chicken bones, but there was almost no meat on it. In fact, it looked like the remains of a very filling meal. Also, I proved to be a bad menu translator, because I thought “omelet nature” meant I was ordering Josh a veggie omelet, but it turns “nature” means natural, as in nothing. So Josh got plain egg omelet. Meanwhile, there was a mix up with the orders of French fries, and a few of us were stuck with plantain fries, which were a bland, potato- wannabe mistake. We were all so tired that we just laughed and laughed at each other’s food to keep from crying. After an unsatisfying meal, we all went to bed, completely exhausted and happy to have softer beds than the plywood boxes at our Kigali apartments.

So Monday was an epic day. Our first day out in the field and God gives us loads of stuff. I’ll try to post about Tuesday and today (Wednesday) soon, but we are heading to Kayonza, and I’m not sure if we’ll be able to get online there. It’s possible, but I am making no guarantees. Just keep praying for the documentary and for our safety, and just ask God to keep our eyes and hearts open and ready for where He wants to lead our filming and learning. Thanks for reading and praying. Grace and Peace. TW

Sorry that we haven't posted or emailed anyone in the past few days. Internet was out in the entire area of Kigali, and we had no way of contacting anybody. We're out in the Eastern Province now, safe and sound, so don't worry. Today was our first day out in the field, and we got some amazing footage, including interviews with locals from Nyabikiri, the village we visited. But I don't have much time because we need to use this computer to dump all of our footage down. But I've been journaling, so I will post what happened to us on Saturday, and then I'll try to post more tomorrow.

Saturday

Saturday was a great day, eventful from start to finish. Alain (I found out it is spelled with an “i” in it) took us to downtown Kigali, where he helped us to buy a cell phone and some more minutes (only forty bucks). Also, Alain helped us buy some jerry cans, which is what everyone carries water with here. We got a lot of stares once we bought the jerry cans; most Rwandans have probably never seen a bunch of young mzungu walking around with empty yellow jerry cans. We all joked that maybe they thought we were really stupid tourists who got confused about what was popular here. After going downtown, Alain took us to his house, where we met his family. His father and mother, Celestin and Marie, were incredibly welcoming and kind. We also met his younger brothers, Armel and Albert, and his older sister, Ariane. Also there to greet us were Ariane’s friends Divine and Gloria. We were so humbled by their hospitality and generosity. As soon as we walked in, we saw what was essentially a Rwandan potluck on their table: food of all types and colors, all consistencies and textures. Alain explained to us that his mother had prepared a small portion of a large number of Rwandan dishes. She had prepared a feast of epic Rwandan proportions: peas and carrots in some kind of saucy goodness, potatoes in the same sauce, some concoction of beans, cold beef, tandoori-like chiken, white rice with carrot slices, African sweet potato (they looked like huge steak fries, but they tasted sweet in a way much different than American sweet potatoes), cooked plaintains (basically green bananas), a unique tomato sauce, maize bread, cassava, cassava bread, cassava leaves which were mashed into a manioc (as you can see, they love cassava, and I mean love it love it love it), and just in case we were homesick, French fries and mayonnaise. After the initial shock of how much food was on the table, Divine took us to the kitchen to wash our hands, which was a touching experience all by itself. She had a bucket of warm water by the sink, and she used a bowl to scoop the water and pour the water on your hands, after which you grabbed the soap and lathered. Then she’d fill the bowl again and pour it over your hands to rinse, after which Gloria was ther to give you a towel. It was such an intimate gesture, to have one of the hosts pour the water to wash and rinse the hands of every guest.

But after all the mushy gushy washing of hands, it was time to eat. After all, none of us had eaten a proper breakfast. So we were ready to eat. We were about to reach for the forks when Alain surprised us: “You don’t have to eat with the silverware.” “What?” we asked, slightly confused. “You can eat with your hands. That’s ok in Rwanda.” At this point, half of us went, “Cool!” and started putting food on our plate, ready to eat, and the other half mumbled something about an allergy to eating with their fingers. “Really?” Alain said, his turn to be surprised. “You will eat with your hands?” We said we would, and then it was time to put our money where our mouth was, or our hands, rather. And put our hands in our mouths we did! Ryan said how disappointed his mother would have been in him for eating with his hands—and as a guest in someone’s home, no less. Alain showed us the basic format for how to eat the food. Typically, you don’t just grab bits of food and eat it—we’re not animals, after all. Alain showed us that you are supposed to use the cassava bread to pick up the food. Basically, you grab a hunk of cassava bread (which is a sticky, chewy kind of bread) and begin to roll it into a ball (my childhood dream of edible Plado was realized Saturday). However, we mzungu were having trouble with the cassava bread because it was so sticky. So Alain showed us how you can dip your fingers in the tomato sauce, and then grab the cassava, because the sauce keeps the cassava from sticking. After creating your ball of cassava, you use your thumb to flatten it out, and then use the flattened cassava as an edible scooping mechanism. You just grab bits and pieces of whatever is on your plate, put it in your mouth, and enjoy. The key to avoid becoming a complete mess is an ancient Rwandan secret: keep licking your fingers. After every messy bite (and they are all messy), Alain would lick his fingers constantly, thus keeping his eating hand ready for a new hunk of cassava. He kept the other hand clean for drinking cola or wiping his face with a napkin.

I’m telling you, we ate and ate. I had to fill up my plate at least three times. I even surprised myself by out-eating everyone else in the group. But that turned out not to be the best choice, because right after we ate and took some pictures with Alain's family, Alain wanted to take us on a hike up the side of a huge hill. I was not exactly excited, but we all made it eventually. As we were enjoying the view, a bunch of kids came up the hill toward us. They were all smiles from far away, but as soon as they got up close they gave us these blank, almost-frightened stares. We started playing with them, and talking to them. After a little while, we began to take pictures of them, and then show the pictures to them, which they loved. We were enjoying playing with the kids, but then we got a call from Mayor Damas, who informed us that he'd be ready to meet us in an hour and a half or so. After that news, we headed back down the hill, but stopped for a moment to try and see where people were getting their water. Alain told us that he'd take us down into the valley next weekend, so that we could get some footage of where people in his neighborhood get their water. So that was awesome, too.

When we got back to our apartment, we (Travis, Whitney, Ryan, Me went, while Chase and Josh stayed back with Alain) changed clothes and headed over the Novotel, where we met Mayor Damas for African tea. Mayor Damas is the mayor of the Kayonza district, which contains over 200,000 people. He told us about Kayonza and how it has several issues with water distribution and sanitation. He also explained how he has been trying to create solutions. He liked the idea of a documentary to show water problems, and even agreed to let us interview him. He is a very kind man, and he explained to us that he would be happy to provide a guide for us if we extended our trip to the Eastern Province. We thought that sounded pretty awesome, so we agreed and told him we'd meet with him Monday (today) and discuss the logistics of the trip.

After a great meeting with the Mayor, we hurriedly changed once again and headed over to Pangea Day at the Jali Club Gardens. Pangea Day was a four hour, worldwide, live film, music, and global culture festival held all over the world, all happening at the same time. It was an amazing experience. The entire event is experienced on a big screen out door theater. It was so cool to know that p