Accompaniment.

le 19 novembre   Each day at noon when class ends, my students head off together walking towards their homes. Each day at noon when class ends and I see my students off at the gates of the school, they ask, “Will you accompany us?”

Sometimes I’m too exhausted from teaching for four hours to embark on a journey. Some days I’m downright frustrated after a difficult four hours of teaching. Other days, I’m merely hungry and would rather head in to the lunch that’s awaiting me than walk the winding road towards the students’ homes, and say “I will, I will one day.”

Today? I decided I would just go. I would finally just do it – why not? Of course I picked a gloomy day, but I had already made up my mind and taken the B.P. (post box) key. I would walk with the students towards the town and then check my “boite postale” and take a moto home – easy, I’ll be home in an hour or so. It would have been “an hour or so” if it hadn’t rained, that is.

The students were both thrilled and surprised that I was joining them, and some even changed their route in order to be in the group that Laura’s in. Stepping from my terrain in the English classroom to theirs – a world riddled with poverty and potholes and Kinyarwanda, I was pleased to be in their company. These young adults are so wise because of the world they have grown up in, and I have much to learn from them. Together we walked, laughed, danced to the music from houses we passed, and (in typical Rwandan fashion) would periodically hold hands.

Until the rain.

A few drops at first, and then it started picking up - we SPRINTED to the nearest overhang a few hundred meters away to wait out the storm. The others under the dwelling were shocked to see a “muzungu” taking shelter there, too. After a few minutes, the coast was clear and we started out again.

Not one hundred meters down the road, a full-out monsoon started, and again we ran. One or two ran this way or that in order to make it the rest of the way to their houses, but five of us took shelter by a pub. Thoroughly soaked now, we took refuge (a new word we learned today) with twenty or so other travelers stranded by the deluge. Dancing. Laughing. Joking. Singing. English. Kinyarwanda? Every moment is an opportunity to learn about the culture you’re living in, and we had a ball. (Lesson du jour: I can handle cold way better than any Rwandan. Thank you, New England winters.)
 
An HOUR LATER, the rain ceased enough that we decided to brave it and keep walking. Afterall, we were sick of waiting. A few more parted ways with us, and we kept on trekking. Marching on through the raindrops towards the Post. As we past Ferdinand’s house, he ran in to grab a sweatshirt and was kind enough to bring one for me, too. As one more student went off in his own direction, only Ferdinand, John and I remained. The three of us together walked the rest of the journey.

Even in the middle of a developing country as the one white person for days, I could not have felt safer than with my dear friends. I picked up a few more phrases in Kinyarwanda and I was able to teach them all about Thanksgiving and why I love it so much. We walked up rocky hills and avoided deep puddles as well as speeding motos. Even though I was greeted by an empty post box staring back at me when I opened it, I was contented to be in the company of my friends and to have the experience of a true voyage around Gisenyi.

In the Formation Service Camp for VIDES, we learned that the true purpose of mission work is to accompany the youth. Walk hand in hand with them on their journey – metaphorically speaking, of course. Today, however, I was so pleased to be able to literally walk with my students and allow them to show me around their town. I had intended to accompany them, but they were truly the ones accompanying me.