Le 2 janvier After mass today, Joselyne and I went to her “Petite Tante’s” house to say our goodbyes. When we walked up to the house, her uncle and cousin Kevin were playing a game outdoors on the stoop. Getting closer, I recognized the familiar scene – a checkered board and circular pieces of two different colors. The board was hand painted and the pieces were made up of bottle caps of blue (Sprite and Primus) and orange/red (Fanta Orange and Coke).
I was captivated by their playing, as it’s always nice to see a bit of familiarity when you’re in such a different place. Noting my interest, her uncle asked “want to play next game?” Pshh, of course I did.
Having played this game since my infancy almost, I felt pretty confident. (Although I’m usually beaten by my brother Mike in any game we play.) I could give him a run for his money, at least. After playing with a thirteen year old, a round against me would at least be a good challenge. My move. His move. My move. I jumped his piece, he jumped one of mine – normal, boring, beginning of any game stuff.
Then it started to get interesting. Not in a good way, either. He jumped my piece by going in the reverse direction. “What? You can’t do that.” He just laughed a bit. A few times he was annoyed to see that I didn’t jump his piece, when I had foreseen danger for my piece and just figured it better to make another move. Again, he jumped from the reverse direction. Now I was starting to get a bit ticked off. Seriously, there are what, three rules of checkers? Move diagonally one spot unless you jump, you move in one direction towards the other end in which case you’re “queened” and then can move as you will. Okay, two rules.
I of course got heated and started to question his tactics, and he assured me that this method of play is completely in the rules. I willed myself forward, trying to stay focused on my strategy and somehow manage to beat him despite this not-very-slight difference in rules. He was curious as to why I didn’t heed to his rules myself, refusing to jump in the reverse direction. Then his piece got “queened.” Well, not surprisingly the rules for the “queen” are quite different in Rwanda, too.
Trying to control myself (because truly it is just a silly game, but his laughing at my anger was not helping things), I just said “Okay, next time we play a game we need to talk about the rules first.”
Then it started to rain. And we were outside. And if you learn anything about Rwanda from this blog, it’s that the world stops when it rains. Quickly, he scooped up the board and pieces, rushing inside. WHEWPH… was I ever relieved. I wasn’t quite sure how this game was going to end, but I can tell you I wouldn’t have been happy. God clearly saw this whole event unfolding and called for a bit of rain to neutralize the situation. Smart move.
I’m not sure exactly what lesson to take from this experience, whether it’s to be sure of the rules each time you start a game or to heed to the local’s rules (I’d not realized from the beginning we were playing by completely different rules). Maybe, though, it’s that you can never really know what you’re getting yourself into and you just need to roll with the punches and laugh it off. And when in need, God’ll step in and take care of things.
I was captivated by their playing, as it’s always nice to see a bit of familiarity when you’re in such a different place. Noting my interest, her uncle asked “want to play next game?” Pshh, of course I did.
Having played this game since my infancy almost, I felt pretty confident. (Although I’m usually beaten by my brother Mike in any game we play.) I could give him a run for his money, at least. After playing with a thirteen year old, a round against me would at least be a good challenge. My move. His move. My move. I jumped his piece, he jumped one of mine – normal, boring, beginning of any game stuff.
Then it started to get interesting. Not in a good way, either. He jumped my piece by going in the reverse direction. “What? You can’t do that.” He just laughed a bit. A few times he was annoyed to see that I didn’t jump his piece, when I had foreseen danger for my piece and just figured it better to make another move. Again, he jumped from the reverse direction. Now I was starting to get a bit ticked off. Seriously, there are what, three rules of checkers? Move diagonally one spot unless you jump, you move in one direction towards the other end in which case you’re “queened” and then can move as you will. Okay, two rules.
I of course got heated and started to question his tactics, and he assured me that this method of play is completely in the rules. I willed myself forward, trying to stay focused on my strategy and somehow manage to beat him despite this not-very-slight difference in rules. He was curious as to why I didn’t heed to his rules myself, refusing to jump in the reverse direction. Then his piece got “queened.” Well, not surprisingly the rules for the “queen” are quite different in Rwanda, too.
Trying to control myself (because truly it is just a silly game, but his laughing at my anger was not helping things), I just said “Okay, next time we play a game we need to talk about the rules first.”
Then it started to rain. And we were outside. And if you learn anything about Rwanda from this blog, it’s that the world stops when it rains. Quickly, he scooped up the board and pieces, rushing inside. WHEWPH… was I ever relieved. I wasn’t quite sure how this game was going to end, but I can tell you I wouldn’t have been happy. God clearly saw this whole event unfolding and called for a bit of rain to neutralize the situation. Smart move.
I’m not sure exactly what lesson to take from this experience, whether it’s to be sure of the rules each time you start a game or to heed to the local’s rules (I’d not realized from the beginning we were playing by completely different rules). Maybe, though, it’s that you can never really know what you’re getting yourself into and you just need to roll with the punches and laugh it off. And when in need, God’ll step in and take care of things.
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