The Hoe of Friendship is the Leg

Mark went out first thing this morning to look for gas – which he found. So I worked on baking the cookies while he went to the airport to pick up the Rossingtons who flew in from Kenya. We made it to church a little late but it was okay.

After the service, we found Charlotte (our language helper) and took her, her baby (who is 19 months old) and her nephew, Ivan, (who is probably around 11 or 12 years old) in the car to Charlotte’s house. We went down the main road to the first roundabout and then turned onto a dirt road, similar to the one our house is on. There were several gated houses and small dukas, very similar to our neighborhood. After going down (literally – down the hill) she said okay, park here. So we parked in front of a duka and there was a path between the buildings that she led us down. Ivan was brought along to stay with the car and “guard” it. We walked down this path and wound our way between several buildings. Many people were standing outside their houses to see the “wazungu” (white people) in their neighborhood. We came to a small wooden gate and went in there where we found ourselves on an even narrower path between buildings but one of these was Charlotte’s house. She invited us in and was so happy to have us.

Her living room was small and the furniture – a long couch and two chairs, a coffee table and an “entertainment center” filled the room such that the door wouldn’t open all the way. She didn’t offer to give us a complete tour but told me that there were 3 other rooms – one for her husband, child and herself, one for their housegirl, Cecile, and one for guests. The kitchen was outside and in the building across the little path. I believe the toilet area was next to the kitchen – a long drop. We met someone else who lived in the same “compound”. His front door was in the same building as Charlotte’s and their kitchens were side by side. I’m pretty sure they shared the toilet. They do not have running water but they do have electricity (they even own a TV).

When we got in the house, I gave Charlotte the bag of chocolate chip cookies I had made for them and she said a quick thank you, turned and excitedly announced that she had a gift for me. She handed me a gold gift bag and inside was a typical Rwandan outfit that she had made for me! The skirt is a wrap-around that ties on and there is a sleeveless blouse and a head scarf! The fabric is a green and tan pattern – one which I would have chosen for myself! Amazingly, it fits me! She never took measurements – she just guessed well!

After we had gotten settled and Charlotte had brought us drinks – coke and water – her father, Louis, arrived. He is 78 years old and is a bright, alert and friendly man. He left Rwanda with his family in 1959 during the power struggle that was going on at that time. At the time he had at least one child. I believe some others were born in Congo but he eventually ended up in Bujumbura, Burundi and got a guard job at the American Embassy. Charlotte was born in Bujumbura. She is the lastborn of is 8 children. They were in Burundi until after the genocide in 1994 at which time they moved to Kigali. He thinks highly of Americans and was very congenial to us but if he speaks English, he didn’t let us know. He spoke in Kinyarwanda and Charlotte translated but he also spoke Swahili so Mark was able to converse with him. He actually lives within walking distance of our house and I think I have seen him walking on the road. One reason he likes Americans is because when Charlotte was a young girl, she was very sick and an American gave them medicine for her and she became well. He is very grateful to that American. His wife, Charlotte’s mother, died within the last few years. Charlotte told us that is why she married “young”.

Charlotte’s husband, Félicien, arrived next. He is also a nice, friendly man but only spoke Kinyarwanda and Swahili – or at least didn’t tell us otherwise. He has a job but we aren’t completely sure what he does. Charlotte told us is a technician and that he makes jewelry but we aren’t sure what type. After the men arrived and were settled with their drinks, Charlotte said she was going to go see to the food. I offered to help so she found us both a cloth to wrap around our dresses and we went outside.

Charlotte had two women who were helping her, one was her house helper, Cecile; the other one I’m not sure who she was. They set me up on a bench next to a charcoal burner which had a pan on it with meat cooking in it. It was beef. They brought me some tomatoes to cut up into it and my job was to stir it periodically. They had several charcoal cookers going at once getting all the food ready. I also cut up some onions for the beans. During all this operation, the baby, named Tita, was running around and very cranky. Charlotte fed her some rice and sauce and then handed her over to her dad inside to feed her. She became too cranky for him so he handed her off to one of the girls outside. Much later, while we were eating we could hear them singing and playing a game with her and eventually the gal came in with Tita tied on her back, sound asleep. Hungry, tired babies are the same around the world! I was, of course, concerned having the baby playing around all the burners and pots of hot food. One misstep and she could have gone right into one. I know babies get severely burned that way.

After 20 minutes or so, the food was all ready. When it was all set up on the coffee table in the living room, it was quite a feast! We had the beef with a tomato sauce, spaghetti, rice, boiled potatoes, French fried potatoes, boiled manioc, sombe, and boiled beans (with onions!).

When we had all finished eating and dishes were cleared away, we were offered more water and soda – no chai. Then we sat around and chatted. It was a little strained because of the language barriers but we managed. Charlotte’s dad, Louis, told us a Rwandan proverb: The hoe of friendship is the leg. Meaning: to build a friendship, you need to walk/go to the person’s house and visit.

When it was time to leave, we walked back up the path and we took Louis and Ivan with us in the car. Louis lives within walking distance from us so we dropped him and Ivan off at the top of their path. I had noted earlier that Ivan was NOT having fun being a guard. He had come back to the house and the ladies all chased him back out, promising him a Fanta. Later when I saw him, he was eating so I’m sure that helped him out. As he got out of the car, Mark shook his hand and thanked him and slipped him a few coins (about a dollar’s worth). When we drove away, I noticed he and his grandfather walking down the path and Ivan turned, waved, and gave me a huge grin. It was very sweet.

In the evening, we had another prayer meeting with the other AIMers. It was a good ending to a full day, although we didn’t get to talk with Emily.