my sister welcomes me back to NYC

They confiscated my Rwandan mayonnaise in the Brussels airport. That, and the extreme jostling and bumpiness over Montreal were the only hassles I encountered during my flight home from Rwanda.

There were two legs to my 25-hour return: Kigali to Brussels and Brussels to New York. For the first flight I contorted myself into the most comfortable position possible given that my legs are long and my seat mate's elbow kept drifting over the armrest into my zone. I proceeded to conk out in exhaustion and sadness for the duration of the flight. Occasionally, I awoke to accept the miniature liquor drinks offered to me by the kind stewardess who seemed receptive to my desire to numb the pain.

The sleep did me well because by the the time I had forfeited my precious jar of mayonnaise to the vigilant anti-terror security guards at the Brussels baggage conveyor belt I was actually starting to get excited about my re-entry into the Brooklyn world I had left behind. I spent most of the flight to New York watching the movies on demand that for some reason all seemed to be period romance films. I was glad Atonement was an option but the film stalled 50 minutes in. I attempted to watch Shakespeare in Love, but got too irritated with Gwyneth's accent to continue so instead turned to Elizabeth which was a joy to watch if only for Cate Blanchett.

Everyone seems glad to have me back which feels nice. Today, I celebrated my return with what I intend to be a marathon of Asian dining. I kicked it off with bibimbap -- the Korean comfort food I've been longing for from a land where it does not exist. Tomorrow I will enjoy izakaya (Japanese pub fare) and Wednesday it's on to either some Vietnamese Banh Mi or maybe I'll just go straight to the raw stuff and pig out on some sushi.

bibimbap all up close and personal

But tonight I kick off the birthday party marathon where alcohol, not food is king!

Posted by Amy at 12:18 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

dance party to celebrate the end of my time in Rwanda

I took my last cold shower this morning. It's my final day in Rwanda -- and not even a full one at that.

Tonight, I board a 8:50 pm plane to Brussels. By tomorrow afternoon I will be home in Brooklyn. According to the party planning committee an impressive series of homecoming events await me. If all goes as planned I'll be dining on some delicious izakaya and catching up on all the flicks that I've missed since I left 6 weeks ago!

Last night I said my good byes at a farewell party in our yard. What better way to bid Rwanda adieu than with a spitted and roasted goat and cold Mutzig draft. I have been wanting to prepare a whole goat in my backyard for several years now, but in Brooklyn goats are hard to come by. So I jumped at the opportunity to try my hand at this feast. Pablo sent out the invitation proclaiming that my Odyssey had come come to an end and quoted from the Odyssey:

Ulysses now left the haven, and took the rough track up through the wooded country and over the crest of the mountain till he reached the place where Minerva had said that he would find the 'goat'herd, who was the most thrifty servant he had. . . .

As he spoke he bound his girdle round him and went to the sties where the young sucking 'goats' were penned. He picked out two which he brought back with him and sacrificed. He singed them, cut them up, and spitted on them; when the meat was cooked he brought it all in and set it before Ulysses, hot and still on the spit, whereon Ulysses sprinkled it over with white barley meal. The 'goat'herd then mixed wine in a bowl of ivy-wood, and taking a seat opposite Ulysses told him to begin.

"Fall to, stranger," said he, "on a dish of servant's 'goat'. The fat goats have to go to the suitors, who eat them up without shame or scruple; but the blessed gods love not such shameful doings, and
respect those who do what is lawful and right.

Sticking with the Greek theme, we hired a mural painter to paint a Trojan Horse on the wall of our home. Mutzig beer flowed freely from a keg and Matilde and our friends at Papyrus provided a full spread of food. We danced to the music of a dj who lives on our street into the night.

Keeping with the Odyssey theme, we hired a mural painter to cover our wall with a Trojan Horse

Today, I joined the Hash Harriers -- the Kigali running club to do a run up and around Mount Kigali. The views from the hilltop were magnificent -- on one side of the mountain top the city of Kigali was visible; on the other the rural mountains and rivers were illuminated by the sun. It was a great way to end my stay here, though the run was delayed by an hour making it a tight race to catch my flight to Brussels. We'll see if I make it or if I'm stuck here until the next flight out on Tuesday. As much as I will miss this place, I'm hoping for the former.

Posted by Amy at 01:26 PM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

Me with some of the students we've been following

I don't know how many times I took the Volcano bus back and forth between Kigali and Butare over the course of the last six weeks. After I return home to the States I will go through all my receipts to get the total tally. Whatever the number, I could now drive the route blindfolded.

Last Thursday we took our final trip from Kigali to Butare to visit the National University and to say good bye to the journalism students we've been following for the last six weeks.

The relationships we built with the students has been one of the highlights of the trip and I look forward to seeing how their careers progress.

I stand outside a classroom at the journalism school with a 2nd year radio broadcast student

two 4th year broadcast journalism students reporting on Lake Kivu in Kibuye

Posted by Amy at 10:32 AM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

Preparing to leave Rwanda
1. For the fifty days that I've been in Rwanda there is one person with whom I have spent all but three days: Pablo Jerah the Extraordinary. I know that the withdrawal symptoms I will experience upon leaving him will be severe.
2. Our "family" dinners at the house, prepared with finesse by Matilde.
3. Boubie, the house dog's gimpy greeting.
4. Ever since I first arrived in Kigali I have been waking at an unprecedented hour of 5 AM nearly every day. I can't see this trend lasting when I return to New York and I will miss this heightened level of productivity...not to mention those lovely sunrises.
5. The wind on my face and in my hair during my moto rides around Kigali and those delicious gulps of diesel exhaust.
6. My bizarre taste for wildly over-produced music.
7. Phone calls by cell phone are so prohibitively expensive that the only way to avoid bankruptcy and remain in contact with friends is to text message. I will miss the long-winded text messages clogging my in box -- and the preference for the "written" language versus the phone call.
8. Frites, Mayonnaise & Brochettes
9. Three-kiss hellos
10. When it comes to cooking at our house, there are no measuring utensils and it's typical to be missing at least three ingredients because 1. our pantry supply closet isn't stocked; 2. there very well may have been baking powder at the German grocery store, but since I couldn't properly translate the words on the packaging from German to English, it does not exist. 3. the ingredient simply has not been imported to Rwanda. I actually enjoy this cooking puzzle and will miss my improvisational cooking.
11. The utter beauty you're bound to encounter whenever you open your eyes on any drive anywhere in the country.
12. The eagerness by Rwandans to get my phone number and email address makes me feel wildly popular in a way I rarely experience in the U.S. And the frequent marriage proposals are a huge ego boost. For anyone who is curious about my worth I was told that I could probably get about 15 modern cows in a marriage deal!
13. I will not list all the people I will miss.

Posted by Amy at 09:34 PM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)

A few weeks ago I was dining at Papyrus -- a restaurant in my neighborhood where I go to get a healthy dose of American hip hop, to pretend I'm in the Hollywood Hills, and to dine on delicious homemade pastas and pizzas made with cheeses produced at Masaka Farm -- a local farm outside of Kigali. (They also make a really yummy tiramisu made with the farm's ricotta. Keeping in line with the gas, coffee, and at times, electricity shortages -- more often than not, Papyrus has run out of the tiramisu. I've started putting a slice on hold when I first arrive to ensure that dessert is waiting for me when I'm done with my meal.)

A group of diners came to our table, including a guy who introduced himself as "a dairy man." He told me he is the man behind Papyrus's dairy products. (He's also the first Rwandan I've met who has tattoos.)

Ever since I visited the grocery store with the regional cheeses of Rwanda I have been wanting to take a tour of a fromagerie. When he offered to show me his farm and dairy processing plant, I couldn't say no. So, yesterday I went on a tour of Serge's dairy farm to see for myself how he makes the ice cream, ricotta, yogurt, mozzarella, butter and creme fraiche. Serge learned to make these products in Italy, the homeland of his wife.

What follows is a photo tour of my visit.

Serge the milk man in his Mercedes Benz milk truck

Masaka Farm

Masaka cow

Serge demonstrates how to milk the cow

fresh cream en route to cream fraiche-dom

Serge samples the cream fraiche

fresh Masaka mozzarella

Posted by Amy at 04:03 PM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)