off the beaten path

In celebration to me traveling to country number twenty-seven (yes, indeed #27) and the buzz in the air of travel plans for the semester... I thought I would upload a few of my favorite places I've been in Europe. Of course, Madrid, Paris, Rome are all amazing. But some of my favorite memories on this continent are in the nooks and crannies of these countries, down little roads that we found on accident. 

Maastricht, The Netherlands (2012)

Oxford, England (2012)

Ronda, Spain (2010)

Essen, Germany (2011)

Ghent, Belgium (2011)

Lagos, Portugal (2010)

Chefchaouen, Morocco (2010)

Neuschwanstein Castle, Schwangu, Germany (2009)

Sienna, Italy (2008)

Porto, Portugal (2011)

St. Jean-de-Luz, France (2012)

San Sebastian, Spain (2012)

I guess I'll know when I get there

Well it's been a full year since I began law school. And oh my what a FULL year it has been. Law school is notorious for throwing you in the deep end and making you learn how to swim. That's a good analogy, but the one I prefer is making you hike up a never ending Mt Everest in a bikini blind (not blindfolded, but actually physically blind). 

It's odd to be sitting in a classroom again, reminded of how little I know and how much I still have ahead of me to learn. This semester I am taking some international law courses that Im really excited about. Last week alone, I was assigned over 200 pages of reading. This isn't exactly study abroad undergrad style, it's still the brutalities that law school has to offer except now the temptations to do anything except law school are 5 times stronger. 

I landed Tuesday morning in London and headed straight to class. It was surreal sitting in that room taking notes. My mental sloth is evident in the abnormal amount of motivation it takes to get through one page of dense textbook reading. It's nothing like devouring a John Grisham in just a few hours. 

In addition to trying to get back into the swing of school, I am starting to get settled in this great international city. Reverse culture shock has hit me pretty hard. It's so strange to see women with painted nails, be surrounded by English speakers that I can understand, read all the street signs and billboards with ease, walk up to anyone and ask a question expecting to be understood, availability of Internet at my fingertips.  The public displays of affection and the liveliness of the Brits chattering away on the tube have also jolted me quite a bit. It feels like living in London can hardly be classified as living abroad. Not to discount the differences between American and British culture, but I can walk into a grocery store and get bagels and Philadelphia lite cream cheese or a dozen Krispy Kreme. 

Then again, compared to East Africa, life almost anywhere else would be easier or at least more Western. I took the weekend to be selfish. I needed to catch up on sleep and spend some time in solitude just reeling from my weeks in Rwanda. In Tom Petty's Learning to Fly he says that "Coming down is the hardest thing." He also sings about a journey that started out on a dirty road, all alone. Then for the end of the journey, he ends the song with "I guess I'll know when I get there." 

I have secured housing, learned how to successfully text on my new phone, navigated around with delightful ease, survived my second week of law school and booked my next flight to new lands not yet explored. This week, I move into my apartment, attempt to get caught up on school and hopefully get to re-explore the city a bit. I will be here until the end of December and travel plans are whirling in my mind. Greatness lies ahead. 

Ladies and gentlemen, beloved readers, welcome to London where this journey continues on. 

so much more to life than we've been told

These lyrics so well reflect all my thoughts and feelings on my time in Rwanda.

“Farther along, we’ll know all about it.

Farther along, we’ll understand why.

So cheer up my brothers, live in the sunshine!

We’ll understand this all, by and by.

Tempted and tried, I wondered why the good man died the bad man thrives

And Jesus cries because he loves them both

We’re all cast always in need of rope, hanging on by the last threads of our hope

In a house of mirrors full of smoke

Confusions and illusions I have seen.

But, where did I go wrong? I sang along to every chorus of the song that the Devil wrote like the Piper at the gates leading mice and men down to their fate, some will courageously escape the seductive voice with a heart of faith, while walking that line back home

There’s so much more to life than we’ve been told

Its full of beauty that will unfold and shine like you struck gold my wayward son

That deadweight burden weighs a ton.

Go down to the river and let it run, wash away all the things you’ve done.

Forgiveness alright

Farther along, we’ll know all about it.

Father along, we’ll understand why.

Still I get hard pressed on every side

Between the rock and a compromise

Like the truth and pack of lies fightin’ for my soul

And I’ve got no place left to go cause I got changed by what I’ve been shown

More glory than the world has known

Keeps me ramblin’ on

Skipping like a calf loosed from its stall I’m free to love once and for all

And even when I fall I’ll get back up for the joy that overflows my cup

Heaven filled me with more than enough

Broke down my levee and my bluff

And one day when the sky rolls back on us

Some rejoice and the others fuss cause every knee must bow and tongue confess that the son of God is forever blessed

His is the kingdom, we’re the guests

So put your voice up to the test. Sing Lord, come soon!

Farther along we’ll know all about it.

Farther along we’ll understand why."

-Josh Garrells, Farther Along

I came to Rwanda full of energy and enthusiasm and miraculously I am coming home with even more. I am coming home truly at a loss for words for how I will adequately capture my summer in just a few quick sentences in response to “How was Rwanda?!” or “How was your summer?” When you ask me what I learned this summer or what my favorite thing was. I am not a fool and this is not my first time coming home from being away. I know that many things have changed and many things have stayed exactly as I left them. I know that people do not want to hear me say “In Rwanda….” 100 times nor do people want a five hour long version of what I have experienced. I’ve tried to update my blog and to upload photos, I know that it is insufficient. That is not to say that questions about my experience are not genuine, it’s just that an answer is not easy to spit back.

This is something I’ve really been wrestling with. I will miss the work, the clients, the people I met dearly. It hasn’t yet hit me that I have to go back to learning inside of a classroom instead of learning on the frontlines, learning by being tossed into the deep end and forced to swim. Surely this has been the slowest summer of my life and I have so many things to share.

My quick response could be strictly about the challenges of living in Africa. No water pressure, intermittent hot water, bouts of hours without electricity from time to time. The language barrier or the cultural differences. The 100% starches diet. It could be about the poverty, the aftermath of 1994, the ongoing struggle of life for a Rwandan. I could scratch the surface on explaining about the work that I contributed to or the great faith of those I was inspired by daily. I could also gloat about my three day safari and proudly show my pictures that look like spreads from National Geographic magazine.

This summer wasn’t really actually about any one of the above things, but it was about all of them at the exact same time. I grew a lot this summer. Like an elementary school student wearing new shoes one-size up for the first time, I am proud of that growth but I am also still a little uncertain in it.

I’ve wondered many things this summer and tossed around a lot of questions that are still left unanswered. I wonder why I was in Rwanda instead of somewhere else. I wonder if I would ever step foot in a church again if my entire family had been murdered in one but I was spared. How has my perspective on justice been changed? What professional experience have I gained? What and who will I miss the most? How have I grown spirtually? What was God trying to teach me this summer? Perhaps more importantly, did I actually learn whatever He was trying to teach me?

All I know is that this song’s lyrics are the most eloquent thing I can offer. I know that this life is full of beauty that will continue to unfold. And farther along, maybe I’ll know the answers to each of those questions. In the coming days, I can only ask that you be patient with me as I struggle to answer yours. 

Two Muzungus I couldn't have done without

My Favorite People II

The first person I must talk about is, my housemate and companion 24/7, Carmen. To most people we interact with, it is shocking that Carmen and I just met. In fact, about 60 days ago, we were complete strangers. Now, we could write the other's autobiography. Carmen claims Ohio as home, but she also grew up as a missionary kid in Costa Rica and Venezuela. She has been an absolute delight to get to know and to spend time with. As we work together, live together and walk everywhere, we spend almost every waking moment of the day together. Not only have I never wanted to kill her, but I have never even been annoyed with Carmen in the slightest. This is remarkable considering how annoying I know I can be. Seriously, Carmen has a huge heart for the world, a strong and beautiful burning spirit for Christ and is incredibly dedicated to being great at whatever she does (which she does effortlessly). Clearly she and her fiance are guided by God because they are getting married just seven days after we get back to the United States. For this alone, she may be a bit crazy, but she is just crazy about following the call to do good work, which is exactly what she's been doing in Rwanda. I am amazed by her zeal, her ability to laugh at just about anything, the fact that she never complains, her intelligence, and the wonderful stories she has to tell. I think it's pretty cool that two very well traveled Spanish speakers ended up in Rwanda hanging out. Our first weeks in Rwanda all we did was exchange travel stories. Although we've both been to over twenty countries, we have only actually been to the same two or three countries, excluding Rwanda. I think that's pretty remarkable! I am pleased that I will be her last roommate before she is married, and I hope that she would say the same about me. What a bright future lies ahead of her, I can't wait to see where she ends up and whether or not she will hire me. ;) If we hadn't gotten along, my summer would have been tremendously miserable. But because we got along so well, my summer was greatly enhanced.

Shelley - Shelley left Rwanda two weeks ago but we miss her so much that it feels like she's been gone a month. Shelley first really amazed me in the big market called Kimironko. We were trying to decide how much we should pay for a pineapple. She picked it up, said about how much she guessed it weighed in pounds, stated about what the average price per pound of pineapple is in the US, converted pounds to kilos and then converted the price per kilo to Rwandan Francs and then spit out a price that we should pay for the pineapple that would be reasonable. Maybe this is lost on you, but this amazed me. Not only do I not know the price of any single item in a grocery store, I certainly could not convert dollars and pounds in a few seconds and then use it as an effective negotiation tool to then haggle over the price of a pineapple in Kinyarwanda which none of us speak. Shelley is so many things that I am not. She's athletic, humble, incapable of sitting for more than five minutes, gracious, and patient. But like me, she is always hungry for a little adventure. Shelley arrived in Rwanda a few weeks before Carmen and I so her first weeks trials became our knowledge. I will always be grateful to her and Lauren for showing us the ropes of living in Kigali and for being our friends in a city when we had none. The icing on the cake of Shelley's awesomeness is her beautiful heart for God and her receptiveness to where He is leading her.  She always had us laughing and she was usually our fearless leader for any activity. At least once a day someone in the house says "I miss Shelley." I am already looking forward to us hanging out in Malibu in January!

maybe drinking cold water does give you a sore throat after all

Rwandans have many superstitions. One of the many is that drinking cold water gives you a sore throat. This seems so absurd to me considering it is hot outside, and why you could possibly want room temperature water EVER is beyond me. All summer I have been putting a water bottle about 1/4 of the way filled in the freezer and then bringing it to work. The staff at the office incredulously watches me drinking it like I am crazy. Everyday they warn me that drinking cold water is painful, its bad for your throat, it's disgusting. Naturally, I have ignored all of these comments.
And now I am laying in bed with a very sore throat.