I’ve relocated back to the guesthouse owned by Burundi/Belgian Jean Luc and started my first day of work today. I immediately became a warm welcomed foreigner to those who haven’t met me during training. Â One girl, Alicia, immediately became my best friend and offered to help me sort out my questions. I exchanged some euros and payed way too much for a bike to get me to and from work. you don’t really have a choice with price here as a white person amongst very poor people. only later did i realized whilest flying down the hill outside my house that the front wheel is a little loose. figures! oh well, with the potholes here (actually more like giant craters), i’m destined to beat this thing up anyway.
It’s all very overwhelming still. I found myself distraught tonight reading my book as the thunderclouds rolled in and the clouds began to cry with me. I watched a lizard climb across my green wall and thought of how I haven’t heard from Ben in days yet still dream of him every night. I think I’m in need of a hug or something. I guess I’ll keep on with my ambitious plans of learning to bike in a city with no real rules of the road, and pushing people to give me access to photograph abused prisoners… you know…
I wish I could put my dreams to use and start learning french while I sleep (and some kirundi beyond the strangely long word for key -urufurungunzo). If anyone has any suggestions on how to make that happen, send it my way.