Beauty in the breakdown.

These photos were all taken a few days after I got back from the States at a health center where I do supervision visits at the pharmacy.  I didn't take any pictures of the health center itself - it's so small and in such a state of disrepair that I didn't want people to think I was rudely documenting their poverty.  As a reference, the post-delivery recovery room is a shed with a tarp for a roof, the stock pharmacy is located in a closet, and I found mouse poop covering the distribution pharmacy because they don't have anywhere else to store the grain they give away in the malnutrition program.  What struck me most was finding such beauty in a place of desperate need and privation.

Mordor or Heaven?

For Mom.  She knows why.

 

 

 

 

 

 

This aint no safari - now easier to read than ever.

Several people have complained that they really enjoy reading my blog, but forget to check to see if I've posted anything new.  I really appreciate anyone who takes the time to read my ramblings, so I want to make it as simple and easy as possible for anyone with an inclination to keep up with my postings.

On the right side of this page, you'll notice a line which reads "Tired of checking to see if I've posted?  Get email updates instead!".  Enter your email address of choice into the box beneath, click 'Subscribe', and you're all set!  You'll get an email each time I put up a new post.  It's still unclear to me if you'll receive simply a message telling you I've posted, or the actual text of the post.  In any case, I hope this makes it easier for more people to read thisaintnosafari more often.

Thanks!

Why I run.

It all started with Alex.  One look at him and you know he’s a natural-born runner – tall, long-legged, and skinny no matter how many Pizza Hut chicken wings he orders on Wednesday night.  I was never predisposed to it – short, hour-glass shaped and big in all the wrong places.  Playing for my high school soccer team, I looked like a pig being poked with an electrified stick.  After learning that he had done track throughout high school and had regularly run from Alexandria to the monuments in DC after moving to the area, I desperately wanted to be able to keep up with him.  Half a desire to impress, half a desire to be able to share an activity which was clearly something he enjoyed, I started to run in January 2010, about a year ago. 

At first, I wanted to be able to go out for a jog on a Saturday morning and simply be able to keep up.  My very first goal was to run for 15 minutes uninterrupted on a treadmill.  I met the first goal relatively easily, but I didn’t find myself enjoying the experience.  I counted down every minute and always struggled to finish, not because I was out of shape, but because I was so damn bored by the end.  As spring sprung, I got up the courage to start jogging from my apartment to the Capitol building and back – about two miles.  When I took this job in Rwanda, it became clear that I wasn’t going to be able to afford to join a gym (twice as expensive in Kigali as back in DC) and that hitting the road was likely to be my only free source of exercise.  It was about this time that I heard of the Kigali Marathon.

During our Global Health Corps training at Stanford last summer, we all set professional and personal goals for the upcoming year.  One girl who was headed to Rwanda’s southern neighbor, Burundi, set running the Kigali Marathon as her personal goal.  My competitive antennae immediately jumped up.  I wanted to run the Kigali Marathon!  A seemingly impossible task!  Twenty six miles in the beating sun!  Constant up and down hills at high altitude!  It sounded perfect to my overachieving ears.

When I arrived in Kigali, I knew it was time to get to work, and I started to run in earnest.  But not for far, and not for long.  The altitude made my lungs feel like crumpled paper balls after fourth period on a Friday.  The landscape was a continuous cycle of up and down, up and down, and up, and up, and up.  In the beginning, every run felt like I had willingly signed up for a brutal ass kicking.

However, the more I ran, the more I found that my body could handle whatever I threw at it.  Every run felt like a victory, which – newly separated by six thousand miles from the people I love – was sorely needed.  In the past five months, running has become a metaphor for my life in Rwanda.  Yes, I could reach the top of the next hill and yes, I could survive a year apart from my boyfriend.  I learned to say to myself “When you’re feeling tired, keep your head down and move more slowly, but don’t ever stop.  Don’t you dare stop.”

I started to run three and four miles, even six on the weekend.  At the end of each run, I was amazed to find that I didn’t feel like I wanted to die, but rather that I felt more alive than any other time I could remember.  I would promise myself a walk break at the top of the next hill and then find that I didn’t need one once I reached it.  I’ve learned that setting yourself on fire feels better at the end than never getting burned.  Yes, I could run for over an hour without stopping, and yes, I would get through the next months alone.  Yes, I could keep going even when my legs did not want to move another step and when I felt lonelier than hell.

I plan to run the Kigali International Peace Marathon on May 22^nd.  I still have an extremely long way to go in training, staying healthy, and preparing mentally for the challenge.  A few people have suggested I’m a little nuts for attempting it, but I’ve found that the small running victories both fuel and give structure to the rest of my life.  I’ve a learned a whole lot so far, but perhaps the most profound thing I’ve discovered is that when your chest starts to close and you feel like quitting, it’s not a time to rest, but exactly the right time to push on.

Shout-outs of the Month

I felt really lucky in December to get to see so many of my good friends in such a short amount of time.  Here are a few shout-outs to people who made a lot of effort to squeeze me into their busy pre-holiday schedule.

Shannon - Roommates for two years in college, Shannon and I have remained close friends, even after she moved to New York and I to DC.  In December, she drove all the way down from NY just for a few hours romping on a Saturday night in Georgetown.  True friendship. 

Nicole - Nicci Nicole manages to be my friend on the most serious personal journey for wisdom while simultaneously being the most wise.  Online chats with her got me through a lot of low points before I went home and she always manages to make me feel loved and missed.  We only taught for ten months together when I was in Teach For America (she moved to another school my second year), but she is by far the best friend I made during my time in DC.

Dan - I first met Dan the summer between 7th and 8th grade when he and his uncle Rich, a friend of my dad's, passed through Kerr Lake for a few days.  We found each other again in college and then both happened to live in DC when I moved there for TFA.  Whether acting as a sounding board, or as reinforcements on the dancefloor, Dan is always an awesome kid.  He and his lovely girlfriend Regine were nice enough to come out with us on our tour of Georgetown despite the fact that they now live pretty far out of town.

Cameron -  Cam is actually Alex's friend from way back, but I've been lucky enough to get to know him and his girlfriend over the past two years.  Thanks to him for coming all the way from Maryland on a Monday night before Christmas just to make sure he saw me.  I also owe him thanks for being the person who reads my blog religiously with the least personal obligation to do so.  

Annie - I first met Annie when we taught together at Kettering Middle School.  She went so far above and beyond what can reasonably be expected of co-workers.  She drove into DC each morning to pick me up before I bought a car, would force me to spend some afternoons doing nothing but drinking tea or coffee and talk, and generally saved my ass multiple times.  Her presence as an older, wiser influence in my life has always been welcomed, and I can't thank her enough for always being a true friend.

Our regularly scheduled Shout Out of the Week will resume next week, but I wanted to make sure that I thanked the people who went out of their way to see me during my short time home.  Love you guys!

A note on comments.

When I was home at Christmas, I was amazed to hear about all the people who read this blog.  Thanks!  I'm usually convinced that about three people are reading because they're the only ones who leave comments.  Previously, I'd unknowingly set things up so that you could only leave a comment if you signed into a Google account first.  As many people don't have Google accounts, and as 'signing in' before you can leave a comment is pretty annoying, in my opinion, I've changed the settings.  Now, you should be able to leave a comment anonymously if you choose, or just type in what you want your name to be displayed as.  No signing in necessary!  Getting people's feedback and reactions to the blogs I write are two of the biggest motivators to keep writing, and I'd love to get more of it.  So please feel free to leave a note, anonymous or otherwise!

Across the Atlantic and back.

Happy New Year y'all!

After five months of build-up, I miraculously made it to December 16th and flew out of Kigali, headed Stateside.  After a highly aggressive run down (no, not pat down) at the Kigali airport and an eight hour delay in Amsterdam due to a rogue snowstorm (I was extremely lucky to make it out) I finally arrived in DC.  Our bags didn't arrive with us, but I didn't much care - I didn't have to waste time waiting for them and they were delivered to the house two days later.   Our delayed arrival time on the KLM website was erroneous, so I actually arrived to a sadly boyfriend-less arrivals hall.  Other times, I might have cried at how anticlimactic it was after counting the days for so long, but at that point, I couldn't complain that we were off by 15 minutes.

I spent the next four days in DC with Alex, seeing friends and being completely indulgent - haircut, new dress, pedicure, etc.  I also ate - a lot.  We drove down to my mom's house in North Carolina and promptly went to see a UNC-Chapel Hill basketball game with my mom and brother Blake.  Perfect welcome home and perfect start to the festivities  The days before Christmas were filled with gift buying, gift wrapping, wine, and decorating sugar cookies made from a $1 box mix from Trader Joe's.

$1 for family peace is the best buck ever spent.

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are by far the most tradition-filled 24 hours in our family.  There are always heavy hors d'oeuvres at our friends the Evans' early in the evening, a service at church at 10:30, and then champagne and the Hallelujah Chorus turned 'up to eleven' at my Aunt LB's and Uncle Alfie's at midnight.  This Christmas marked a turning point in our family - my newly-turned 13 year old brother Blake was the last to get up.  You can't say you're a teenager until you have to be dragged out of bed on Christmas Day.

It amazing what six months in rural Africa will do to put some perspective on your Christmas list.  I was berated for asking for tea, a salad spinner, a Snuggie, and sharp knives.  I surprised my mom with tickets to Italy last Christmas, and her big present to me was trip she'll be taking to visit me in March.

He will kill me for this but I don't care because it's adorable.

I brought Alex some paraphernalia from Paul Kagame's presidential campaign, because he's a fan (who isn't, really?).  Alex conveniently forgot the conversation where we promised we wouldn't do big presents and gave me a Nook e-reader.  I grudgingly admit that it has come in extreme handy during the seemingly endless amount of time I spend in cars.

We were joined later in day by my Aunt Joan and Uncle Griff who drove up from Wilmington, which was really neat because Christmas Day is usually reserved for our immediately family, but we're past the age of  spending the evening trying out new toys.  We had a big party of family and friends, which ended perfectly with the first snowflakes of the only White Christmas I can remember.

Record-breaking December snowfall prompts gratuitous snowman building.

A few days later, Alex and I headed to the mountains of Virginia where we'd rented a tiny log cabin for several days.  Complete with a wood burning fireplace, full kitchen and hot tub.  Based on the guestbook entries, it was a popular place for engagements, honeymoons, and anniversaries.  One couple had been kind enough to share their experience of breaking the bed frame on their first night after their wedding.  Awkward. 

We spent our days touring Monticello, Thomas Jefferson's home (absolutely incredible - make sure you go if you haven't) and UVA, Alex's alma mater.  The school is definitely beautiful, but really doesn't hold a candle to Carolina.  Tarheel superiority still safe, although I must admit that the secret societies are pretty cool. 

Our last few days back in DC were filled with typical running around in an unnecessarily stressed manner, and trying to get everything done before my flight.  I can't decide if saying goodbye was easier or harder than the first time, but there's one thing that I know for certain....TSA is intense.

Glad to be back online, y'all.  Hope you're all well.