"Get in... they may start throwing stones!"

The title is not as scary as it sounds, but rather a funny story. We finally got in touch with the airport yesterday and learned that our luggage had made it (I never thought I'd be so materialistic, but 4 days in the same clothes and the thought that most of what I own was lost was quite scary). We walked outside of our house to get a taxi, and ran into our neighbor, Ernest, who speaks perfect English and said he would help us to find one, but as we walked out of the gate that surrounds our houses, we noticed people all around and some people yelling at each other, while the neighborhood security (who are armed with sticks... literally, they look like the legs of tables) stood by and mediated. We couldn't understand a word of what was being said but we could tell that the argument was escalating, when suddenly the security guy pulled out his stick and hit one of the men.. Ernest shoos us inside and says that stones may be thrown. It never got to that point, and after 10 minutes or so, the excitement died down and everyone went home. Nothing compared to the fights I've seen in the US.

The funny thing is, that seems to be such a rare occassion around here. Everything I've read says that Rwanda is one of the safest countries in Africa, and I think they're right! We get stared at everywhere we go, but not in a threatening way; we're just such a rare sight around here. "Muzungu" was the first Kinyarwanda word we learned (meaning "white person"), and it seems to be the first word anyone learns around here- there are kids who seriously do not seem old enough to talk but they shout "Muzungu!!" everytime we pass by. I've never felt like anyone wanted to harm me or rob me or anything of the sort. They may escalate the prices of various things a little because they know we have more money, but as we get more of a sense of what things cost we can bargain better. It's nice to know that being a foreigner isn't putting us at risk, and rather just providing entertainment for everyone around.

The children are soooo cute here! I feel like most of them have never seen a white person before, and they just stare and smile and wave. When we were eating yesterday at a little outdoor restaurant in our neighborhood, one child came and stood next to me. I said "Muraho" (hello) and he replied with a grunt and kept staring. At first I thought maybe he wanted food, but he didn't even look at my plate.. just kept staring at my face. Yet another time where the language barrier is a problem. But most of the children seem to be learning French, and when we walk by schools or groups of kids we always hear "Bonjour! Ca va?" and they laugh when I answer them. They always run over to hug us or shake our hands, and we're not sure if they just see it as a custom or if they are trying to see if we feel any different than them. The saddest thing I've seen so far, though, was at the market yesterday. There was a little girl who couldn't have been older than 4, she may have even been 3, carrying a baby on her back tied the way the mothers around here do. I know her mother must have been around the market, but the poor girl was already taking on adult responsibilities when she is barely out of diapers herself.

That's pretty much it for now though! Mireille, the girl we are living with, is wonderful and extremely helpful. And the food will be an ongoing struggle, I think... Mike and I are both so picky and there are not many choices. Looks like we will be living off of rice, potatoes and pasta, so my hope of losing some weight may not happen with such a carb-loaded diet. I'm already planning my first meals back in the US...

Miss and love you all!
xoxoSteph

(PS- 10 points if you get the reference from my blogger name!)