So much to say

Okay, I have a good connection now in which to write you. Communication here was extremely frustrating for the first three days, and all my attempts to use either the cell phone, the internet, my vonage phone, all failed. It was due to a combination of obstacles, mainly that I had no money on my cel phone (duh!) and also the fact that constantly the networks are busy here.

I have so many stories already to tell if I had the time, I think when I return to Vermont I shall host a story circle in which we can sit and I can show photos and tell of my travels. You who are far away, maybe we can set up a skype session, lol. (I'm an Oprah wannabe truth be told, and she is doing a classroom every Monday thru skype. It is very cool. )

But first, let me say that reading all your words is enormous. Mom, I cried reading the hymn. Thank you for those words. Only thing better would have been hearing you sing them to me like when I was little. Kmom, you are absolutely right, this is prodromal. And part f me wants to jump ship, abandon myself and the process and fly home. Give in feeling I have not the strength to do this for days and days, and yet here I am with no pitocin and being asked to trust the process. Your words of strength and support, your hands across the water will be what carries me thru. For this, while exciting, is not easy.

Ah, Rwanda. Really, if you ever get the urge to travel this place is it. Not that I should know since all I have to compare it to is Montreal and Disney World's Animal Kingdom, lol. But truly this land is amazing. Rolling green hills, just like Vermont. People with big hearts and smiles. But also, with so much history and heaviness that can be sensed also. The thing I was not prepared for was how young everyone is. I am older than most everyone here, and I think I have only seen about 5 people from the generation ahead of me. I guess it makes sense given that everyone who was here either fled in 1969 or in 1994. Either they fled or they were killed. My lawyer was born in Uganda and moved here later on. The waiter was born here, fled to Congo in 1994 somehow (a very fortunate escape from what I gather) and then came back four months later. The two men I dined with yesterday both came here in 1994 after the war. One was a soldier at age 16 and came back in at the tail end of the genocide from Uganda.

Most happy moments: this morning walking here to use the computer in an American residence I saw a mother and I'd say 2 year old waiting for the bus. She was beautiful and the child well... they are all beautiful to me. As I approached I saw the baby was fishing around down her shirt feeling her breasts. She seemed used to it. Next was the crowd of little kids all dressed alike in blue skirts and blue checked tops who crowded around me on the sidewalk, "Muzungu, muzungo" and they wanted to touch me. I touched them all, the soft almost lamb=like hair on their heads.

Scariest turned funniest moment: Okay, so the American I have had the fortune of using as what she calls my "personal assistant" invited me to a book club. I decided to go. Give it a try. "Can I bring my crocheting?" I ask? Sure she says, no problem. I ask her to elaborate a wee bit on what exactly I could expect and if I would be comfortable there. "It is just a time to go around the circle and each person share what they are reading You don't have to speak if you don't want to." Okay, I think I can handle this. So. We set out after a very funny incident of overpaying the hotel by thousands of rwandanese francs. We are late due to this and anyhow we pull over into the dark by the side of a road. This must be the place I am figuring when something raps on the door. I look out into the darkness but I can't see anyone. Still, Julie opens the door to the knock and me, with my PTSD, am definitely thinking "Oh Shit." I can't see anyone. No one is there. Wait. I do see something. The shiny-ness of a machine gun barrel. Hmmmm. My eyes finally focus probably due to my ears hearing the french coming from is mouth. It is so dark and he is so dark that he was really hard to see. So Julie gets out despite the Machine-gun guy and I follow and he is shouting at her as she walks away. I am a wee bit reluctant to follow her as it is just not instinctual for me to turn my back and walk away from a machine gun guy yelling at me. Still, the guard at the gate says it is okay (I guess he didn't want us leaving the car on the street) and he lets us through. The house looks very official suddenly now that I can focus on something other than my complete panic with the armed men. I ask while we are approaching the house "Um. Where exactly are we?" "Oh, this is the Ambassador's home." Just as she says this I see many people mingling inside the glass wall. "No. No. No." I say, shrinking away. turning back toward the armed men from where I had come. "What do you mean, no?" asks Julie of me just as the ambassador's wife comes to let us in. "I don't mingle," I say as the door opens. Julie hands the dish she has brought throug the door to her and tells her that she has forgotten something at home and will be right back. The woman asks me if I would like to come in. "No. NO NO!!!". Yikes. I run away down the street, past the militia men (not really, but they may as well have been to me) and to the security of Julies home and computer while she mingles and discusses books.

Anyway. There are a few little stories. You may be wondering what the heck is going on with the whole reason I am here: the adoption. Well. We filed the Dossier with the Ministry on Tuesday. Wednesday we were able to get an audience with the Minister herself to explain my case and explain to her the urgency of it all. She was very nice and said she would sign right away for us. However, the woman that needs to prepare the document for her to sign, Veronique, is out "in the field" until Monday. So, I have been killing time until then. Today I think I shall go back again and ask for her. I was told by some locals that the thing to do is spend some time sitting in her office. That way they get to know me as the muzungu who keeps waiting for Veronique. They know i need to see her and I have put in my time. Still, if she is not there today, my plan is to go monday and tell her the Minister is waiting to sign and tell her that I will wait until she has reveiwed the document and prepared the letter. Hopefully that will give me what I need to make the assignment of the child with the orphanage.

So. That is that. I will try to update again soon, but until then, please keep leaving messages. I need all of your voices of reassurance.

Blessings,
Jaya