Category: culture

Before coming here, I knew having both running water and electricity were slim. I have electricity, but no running water. I didn’t have electricity during my first month, which was challenging, especially when the sun sets everyday at 6:30p.

Water is another problem. As volunteers, we’re always so curious to know what other people’s “water situations” are. Who has a spigot? Is it in their house? Outside? In the village? The lucky ones have one in their house, the not so lucky ones have to walk up/down a hill to fetch water or hire someone to get it for them.

Like the locals here, I use jerry cans to transport and store my water. They can hold 20L and weigh 44 lbs when full. It’s physically exhausting to transport water to my house, but luckily, the spigot is only 50m meters away and downhill when walking back home.

So, how much does water cost here? It depends on where you live in Rwanda. Some of my friends have to pay 100-200 RWF for a full jerry can, which is roughly $.10 – .20 USD. However, when it’s the dry season it can get up to 1000 RWF (~$1 USD). I think I lucked out, because mine is only 30 RWF per can, which is only $.30. My dad joked that he’d cover my monthly water bill by sending me $3.00, which would get me 10 jerry cans!

Though the water is cheap through our American lens, it can be quite expensive for Rwandan families. Before coming here, we were told that cleanliness and hygiene is one of the most valued aspects of the culture. I never understood why until I went into the village life where I can see how water insecurity separates social classes. When water was scarce, I sacrificed my personal hygiene. I didn’t wash my clothes, I didn’t shower every day, and you could tell. I was disgusting. Not having a reliable source of water, especially during the dry season, took a huge psychological toll on me. I’m not religious, but I would pray for rain so I could collect rainwater off of my roof. I often find myself stressing out about how to ration it – do I wash dishes, clean my clothes/shoes, wash my hands, brush my teeth, shower? I never thought I’d sacrifice hygiene to the extent that I have, but here we are. Without a second thought, I prioritized my water to drink and cook. I even starting thinking of ways to change my lifestyle so I would use less water, for example, I tried finding ways to make food that required the least amount of dishes to wash, working out less so I wouldn’t have to shower, eating from the pan so I wouldn’t have to wash a plate, etc. On top of all of that, I’d recycle the water I used to do laundry and wash my dishes and vegetables with so I can flush my toilet. (I have a flushing toilet, but no running water).

I can see how water scarcity affects the families here – their clothes and shoes are dirty and smelly. They don’t have good hygiene. Having access to water is one of the most defining determinants of social class. The huge emphasis on cleanliness is a result of that.

Rwandan food is a lot of the same staple, seasonal foods – potatoes, spinach, cassava, green bananas (not plantains), beans, rice, and sometimes meat. Every meal has the same food prepared in different ways, and in all honesty it’s mostly the same consistency and flavor (if any) without much variation. One of the best ways to mix it up is by adding meat since it’s eaten very rarely because it’s expensive.

A few days ago, my host mom came back from the market and was excited to show me the meat she got. Here, meat means anything that comes from an animal, anything. So, when my host mom flipped the paper bag over I wasn’t expecting to hear a clattering sound. She excitedly said, “feet of cow!” They were cow hooves. I don’t know why I was so surprised because it looked exactly like what they were and my face must have shown it because my host mom said, “I don’t know why you’re surprised, you ate it before.” I panicked a little bit because I think I would’ve remembered eating cow hooves, but I honestly have no idea when that was. 

That’s it. I just wanted to share that funny story.

This post was inspired by a TED talk by Chimamanda Adichie called “The Danger of a Single Story.” Adichie is a New York Times best-selling author from Nigeria. We watched her talk as part of our training a few weeks ago.

I came in with a lot of different misconceptions about Rwanda. It being a sub-saharan, African country, I knew only what UNICEF commercials and other social media content hyper focused on about life in Africa – rural, poor, and uneducated populations. I think most of us have seen African countries portrayed like that. The media’s portrayal that’s consumed by many Americans is a single story – stories that exclusively show poverty, malnourished children, and underdevelopment – but Rwanda is the country Africa looks to as an example for development. However, cultural exchange is a two-way street. Through conversations with my host mom, I’m learning that there are just as many misconceptions Rwandans have about America.

I had never been to Africa before the Peace Corps and embarrassingly, expected to be roughing it way more than I am. My host family’s house has sturdy walls, running water, electricity, and an indoor bathroom (with a flushing toilet and tiled floors). We have more than enough food to eat every night, my host parents love putting more than I can eat on my plate for dinner. They keep on encouraging me to eat, hoping to get me really fat. It’s often over dinner conversations when I learn how they (mis)perceive America.

My host mamma believes that life is America is magical. That everyone’s life is so easy, simple, and safe. She compares her life in Rwanda to what she knows about America, which is that everyone has a beautiful life and is rich. One time, she accidentally cut her hand while preparing dinner and told me that if she lived in America, that wouldn’t have happened. The other day, we heard that our neighbor’s house was robbed and she said that if she were in America that would’t happen.

How do I tell her that 45 million Americans live below the poverty line?
How do I tell her that many Americans are rather unhappy (depression and anxiety rates are rising), and that American life not as beautiful as she thinks?
How do I tell her that people injure themselves all the time while cooking or that robbery also happens in America?
How do I tell her that 27.5 million Americans don’t have health insurance, but every Rwandan does?

She has talked about moving her family to America and prospects of integrating and becoming Americans.

How do I tell her that being an American is more that just having legal status, but that you also have to look like one? How do I tell her that I’ve been told that I’m not an American because I’m not White?

Do I dare shatter her magical America?

I can only offer her my personal experiences and perspectives, but I did. I told her that the problems that exist in Rwanda also exist in America. We have similar problems and we have different problems. It’s important to show that America is as imperfect as any other country. It makes me wonder how America is broadcasted to the rest of the world, because her words make it seem magical. It’s crucial that we don’t fall into the trap of telling just one aspect of the story, we have to share the entire picture.

That being said, my blog isn’t the entire picture. I’m not sharing everything that I’m experiencing or every detail of my everyday activities. You, the reader, are not getting the whole story – just what I’m sharing here – despite my efforts to give as much context as I can. So it’s important not to generalize my story as the only story as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) or my experience in Rwanda. There are 70 other volunteers in my cohort and we’re all experiencing the PC and Rwanda very differently.

Has there been a time when you fell into the trap of telling a single story or wanting to hear one?