La jour mondiale des missionaries (world missionaries day)

le 24 octobre   What an absolutely beautiful day today was.

In the community, each person takes a turn cooking the Sunday meal. I found out last night that today was mine and the other (27 year-old, Rwandan) volunteer’s day to cook. That’s all well and good and all, however she has been in Kigali since Thursday evening and wouldn’t be back today I would be all on my own! Luckily, knowing I had never cooked a Rwandan dish before in my life, Sr. Lumiere (a visiting sister) offered to give her assistance.

So this morning, Sr. Lumiere and I headed off to 7h mass so that we’d have ample time for cooking. There are two masses on Sunday at the Muhato parish – 7h and 10h – and usually we’re free to go to whichever we would like, unless it’s your turn in the kitchen. After mass we ate breakfast with Sr. Rose and headed off to our work. Aprons make us really feel the part. We cleared off the massive, industrial-sized metal cooking table to make room for our endeavours, and I headed off to the reserve to fetch water to boil, as Sr. Lumiere went to see if the hens had any presents for us – only one egg. [As the water is out today, we had to fetch water to boil for drinking, to use with cooking, and to wash the dishes, which only made the day feel that much more satisfying.]

As today is the jour mondiale des missionaires, today was to be a celebration. We decided that we would make a cake as a surprise for the other sisters in addition to the menu we’d planned: tilapia done the Rwandan way, legumes in sauce, ubugari, fruit salad and popcorn. What does this mean, you ask? Cut the tilapia in half RIGHT down the middle and throw it into the frying pan with oil, cook evenly on either side. Throw chopped onions into oil, brown them, throw in tomato paste and a little water, and bring to a boil. Then add the fish, letting it simmer. The legumes were luckily already chopped up and in the freezer, so we only had to make a sauce for it and throw them into the same pot – NOT a problem. Ubugari I really couldn’t tell you what the trick is to making it, but the only ingredients are poudre de maise and water – there’s a fine balance of when to add the water and how hot or cold it has to be as well as proportions. You then beat it to a pulp and it comes out in a big sticky blob, which is perfect for rolling into a ball and scooping up whatever you’re eating. The fruit salad was easy – chop up a papaya (or pawpaw as it is sometimes called, like in the Jungle Book) and a good many bananas. As the kind we had on hand were the teeny kind – about 3 MAYBE 4 inches long, we had to use plenty. Then some sugar and some passionfruit syrup, with a lovely banana decor on top.

There are so many things that I’ve been learning from Rwanda already, and it’s only been a few weeks. Today’s lessons? You don’t need Betty Crocker to make a cake and you don’t need Orville Redenbacher to make popcorn. WHO knew? It’s one of those things that I’ve never thought to make any other way because I haven’t needed to. (Except of course for the fabulous carrot cake Ms. Kyatrin and I made for Sharron’s birthday!) Why would I put oil in the bottom of a pan over medium heat, throw in some corn kernels and cover it, shaking it every so often to avoid burning kernels when I could just throw a bag in the microwave for 2 minutes and 15 seconds and return to my movie? Or better yet, our microwave at home has a ::popcorn:: setting – you throw the bag in, close the door and only have to hit that one button. I’ve honestly never even thought of making popcorn any other way.

The cake? Well, we only had one egg. And only a little milk. And we realized once we’d added all of the dry ingredients that we didn’t have any oil. What do you do? Sr. Lumiere, the clever woman that she is, went to the fridge to get the tub of cream that we take off the milk after it boils – with this, it would count for both the milk and oil! We added some “desiccated coconut” to the mix and a little on the top and, with a lick and a promise, threw it into the oven. What’s more, neither of us had ever used this oven before. Who knew what we’d set it to and if it had any quirks we had to account for! Sister also named the cake – Laura Luce (Luce being her first name), which absolutely cracked me up. She truly is a card.

The cake finished just as Sr. Josephine was walking into the house, so we sent her out to bring some of our fruit salad scraps to the chickens – we had just enough time to take it out of the oven, throw it onto a plate, wash and put away the pan and hide the cake before she came back in. LUCKILY she believed the “good smell” she caught when she walked in to be the popcorn. Whewph.

We set the table in the sitting area with 5 glasses, the popcorn, and wine. In a box, of course. What’s classier than boxed wine and popcorn? Feels like college again. We say our pre-meal prayer, and then the sisters sing what seemed to be a French drinking song. WHO knew? At the meal, we enjoy our fabulous feast the way it was meant to be eaten – with our handsss. The “proper” way to eat ubugari is to dip your fingers in the sauce you’re going to be eating first, and then grab a small glob of ubugari, roll it into a ball with your hand and squish it so that it flattens out a bit which makes it perfect for pinching a bit of legume and tilapia. MMMm.

After we’d all finished, Sr. Lumiere and I went to bring out our surprise. We sprinkled a little bit of powdered sugar on top of LauraLuce, our masterpiece, and the lovely fruit salad. Were they ever surprised! And to make things better? The cake not only turned out resembling a cake (despite the improvisation), it was very delicious! So our feast was a success, and I’m well on my way to learning my way around Rwandan cuisine.

At 14h30, I’d arranged to be calling my parents. It was 8h30 there, and I could catch them before they headed off to mass. It was so incredible hearing their voices, and I was able to tell them about my great feat in the kitchen and I got the scoop about my family. It’s unbelievable – when you’re used to talking on the phone with people and seeing them frequently, you don’t realize just what it means to hear someone’s voice.

The rain started just about the time we got off the phone, as I was rolling out my yoga mat and putting in my Warrior Yoga dvd. Yes, Warrior Yoga. I was initially intrigued by it because of the name – it makes me feel as though I’m training to be a warrior – but I’ve really been enjoying it. I think yoga was made for people like me, and I’ve just never gotten into it. It is solely stretching, balance and strength while also channelling inner calm. 50 minutes of Warrior Yoga with the sound of rain on the zinc roof – what could be better?

I only had a small window of time before prayer, so I threw on my raincoat and walked around our property. The clouds are always very interesting here, made even more unique when they’re playing hide-and-go-seek behind Nyiragongo, the volcano. The rain poured down on the gardens and hit off of the roof of the peyote and school around me. So tranquil and cleansing.

We then had adoration and vespers, which is a great way to follow up a tranquil afternoon. And to finish up the day, we had our Sunday night ritual – movie night. I went to grab my book of movies, and the choice was Made of Honor. I’ve had this movie for a year or two now, initially drawn to it because Patrick Dempsey is in it, and have just never put it in the dvd player. So in the middle of Africa, with French dubbing, I watched it for the first time. We popped it in and ate while watching it. I absolutely felt like I was having a movie night with my girlfriends – we were laughing at all of the ridiculous plot twists and loving the predictable yet sappy moments. To make the evening perfect, we still had some popcorn from this afternoon.

One more quick trip into the chapel to say goodnight, then my round of hugs and “urute Imana’s” (dream of God). I went to my room to grab my bucket and off to the reserve so that I had water to wash my face tonight and to “shower” in the morning. What’s incredible is that I didn’t even think twice about it, nor did I think “ugh, no water.” I’m beginning to internalize the rhythm of Gisenyi and that brings me great comfort.