Every last Saturday of the month, Rwanda practices Umuganda: in the morning and early afternoon Rwandese participate in some form of community service. My co-workers warned me that stores would be closed from 8 until 12 and it is not customary to walk the city if you are not participating in Umuganda. I quickly learned many people (including expats and Rwandese) use the time as an excuse to sleep in, relax on the porch, enjoy a homecooked brunch, or simply tidy up the house.
My umuganda was just that. I sat on my new home’s porch with a hot cup of Rwandan black tea- anxiously awaiting 12 pm so I could throw on my sneakers and hit the ground running. And the time passed. Slowly. Everything seems to move a bit slower here, like a Rwandan teabag. Every morning, my single Rwandan tea bag lasts me at least four mugs of hot steaming water- a life span unheard of. And that time of scheduled stillness on my porch lasted two tea bags, and it was a necessary length I think. I was able to catch up on my writing and recognize all my five senses. 1. The slight cool morning breeze 2. The sight of children next door climbing the trees and practicing their English with a friendly hello 3. The taste of the now daily tea 4. The sounds of discussion from the community building just a few terraces away 5. The smell of Kigali.
It’s amusing to think I have only been in Kigali for a week as I sit here and worry I have yet to see enough of the city with busy work days and the early arrival of night fall. However, after my Umuganda and a lively adventurous weekend with friends, I rest assured that time is abundant. A weekend filled with walking to the market with a new and close friend Mimi, a ride on a moto to the Amoroho stadium amidst the Saturday afternoon traffic, a night danced away at the KigaliUp Music Festival, or a leisurely Sunday Walk and visit to the Inema Art Center has left me at peace and opportunistic for the work day, the week, the year ahead.
My umuganda was just that. I sat on my new home’s porch with a hot cup of Rwandan black tea- anxiously awaiting 12 pm so I could throw on my sneakers and hit the ground running. And the time passed. Slowly. Everything seems to move a bit slower here, like a Rwandan teabag. Every morning, my single Rwandan tea bag lasts me at least four mugs of hot steaming water- a life span unheard of. And that time of scheduled stillness on my porch lasted two tea bags, and it was a necessary length I think. I was able to catch up on my writing and recognize all my five senses. 1. The slight cool morning breeze 2. The sight of children next door climbing the trees and practicing their English with a friendly hello 3. The taste of the now daily tea 4. The sounds of discussion from the community building just a few terraces away 5. The smell of Kigali.
It’s amusing to think I have only been in Kigali for a week as I sit here and worry I have yet to see enough of the city with busy work days and the early arrival of night fall. However, after my Umuganda and a lively adventurous weekend with friends, I rest assured that time is abundant. A weekend filled with walking to the market with a new and close friend Mimi, a ride on a moto to the Amoroho stadium amidst the Saturday afternoon traffic, a night danced away at the KigaliUp Music Festival, or a leisurely Sunday Walk and visit to the Inema Art Center has left me at peace and opportunistic for the work day, the week, the year ahead.