Last Week of Work

No, I haven't been fired. I know that is what you were thinking. You can't fire an intern... I think Aaron and I would know if you could. :) Rather, today was simply the last scheduled day of work for us Food for the Hungry (FH) interns.

Other than that, though, it seemed just like every other day at work. Dwight gave us a project to do; we did it. I continued to work on my research project and drafted emails between games of Free Cell and Vegas Solitaire. We stopped working promptly at 10am for morning tea, and did the same shortly afternoon for lunch. Around 2:45pm, Aaron and I looked around and decided there was nothing left for us to do, so we got a ride back to the guest house. I was and am unable to grasp that I will not return there Monday morning. There were a few goodbyes, but I do not think the FH staff grasped the reality well either. The picture we managed to get only has about half of the staff in it.


In general, this week has been a fast-paced one as I have rushed to gather information for my research project, which has, for better or worse, kept my mind off my inevitable departure from this second home. I have interviewed seven international non-governmental organizations and three government officials. I have also been spending most of my nights reading borrowed books pertaining to my research. Due to the my rushed state, I have my doubts on how spectacular the paper will be, but the process itself has given me a deeper understanding research method, interviewing, civil society and African government. But that is what the rest of my summer is for: making money, reuniting with family and friends... and writing a research paper.

But though the preceding paragraphs have given the impression that my week has been sad and difficult, this has not been the case. Many pleasant, hilarious and even frightening events have happened with week, three of which I will share with you now to turn this blog-frown upside-down.

Yesterday, the Jacksons treated all of us interns and a few Hunger Corps (three-year volunteers) friends to dinner at one of Kigali's finest restaurants. Their particular specialty is steak. Though the wait and delivery of the food of inconsistent due to a number of factors, the three-hour evening was delectable. The steak was quite possibly the finest I have ever tasted (and only $8 USD), tender and succulent. Between the main course, appetizers and some wine, the whole party enjoyed sharing our defining experiences and impressionable memories that have helped us discern our future. Dwight also shared with us some of his brainstorming for the future of FH Rwanda. There were funny stories passed around as well, including the many mischievous pranks of collegiate Dwight Jackson and the story in the following paragraph. In its entirely, it was a complete supper, satisfying my appetite for food and conversation.

What Aaron and I did to Abby the night before though, may have been more satisfying. After being sent to her room to fix the wireless Internet port ourselves, we started thinking of some way to prank her. With a sinister grin, I snatched the clock on her desk on put it twenty minutes ahead; Aaron suggested a full hour. "She's not going to notice, dude." Good point. So after setting her alarm clock, room clock and computer clock, we went back downstairs. "Abby, do you know what time it is?" Aaron inquired. "No, my cell phone's in my backpack. Can you get it for me Jim?" All guilt I had stored inside me melted away. "Sure. I'll bring it back after I go to the bathroom." Out in the hall, I snatched her backpack, found her cell phone, and changed the time on that as well. When she finally got a hold of her cell phone, she was shocked. "Oh my gosh, its 10:30 already." Karen and Emily almost blew our cover, but less-than-subtle winks got the message across. As expected, Abby woke up an hour earlier than everyone else, but she still had no idea. "Oh I'm so glad Dwight said we could come in an hour late," I yawned. "That's weird that the cook was late," prodded Aaron. She was still oblivious. She even told Aaron that she felt as if she had woken up an hour too early. Eventually, Emily told her (go figure), but apparently it had confused her all day. We're thinking about it doing it again tomorrow, but maybe two hours this time.

The joke was on me though early Wednesday night, hours before Aaron and I turned the clocks back on Abby. Abby was near our Rwandan friend Felix's house, and wondered if any of us wanted to come over as well. I was the only one. So I donned my hiking boots and my light-blue Lifeguard hoodie before venturing up to catch a matatu. It was after dusk, so I brought my iPod to accompany me in the dark. I brought me digital camera too, just in case Felix's house yielded an optimal photographic opportunity. After finally getting a taxi and riding it to the appropriate stop, I took off down a dirt street toward the house. There were no streetlights and only a few shadows walked to and fro. I came to what I thought was the house, and I climbed the wall a little just to check. Wasn't it. I continued to wonder for about ten minutes before I took a deep breath and analyzed my situation. Mzungu + light-blue hoodie + peeking over walls + over $200 of electronics + dark, foggy and dirty streets = 'Jim, what are you thinking? You're gonna get jumped.' I quickly swallowed my masculine pride and called Abby: "Hi Abby, I'm coming over... Where am I? Good question." Don't worry mom, I made it all right, and I soon found myself reciting the chain of events sitting on Felix's bed, munching on a cookie. Though as I explained my hoodie, he looked confused. "Lifeguard?" he asked. "Yeah, see. I'm a lifeguard. That's my job." Suddenly, a smile exploded across Abby's face. "Jim, he doesn't understand. Here in Africa, Lifeguard is a popular condom company. I've been meaning to tell you for a while now." So not only was I a lost and vulnerable idiot, but I was a billboard for condoms too. Not only then either, but every time this summer that I have decided to wore one of my four lifeguarding shirts in public. With less than a week left in Rwanda, I am glad that Abby eventually told me what she knew all along... I have yet to get even.

And so concludes this blog entry. Turns out that I wrote a lot. Thank you for tuning in. And don't forget our season finale! My guess is that it will come around this time next week after our FH debriefing. Thank you for reading. God bless!