Hello my dear friends,
Lots of come to my mind of what I should write in this blog post. However, as I forgot I have a meeting with my mentor in 30m I am just going to throw down some information that I should have given long ago about my placement here in Rwanda.
Fair Children Youth Foundation was started by a man, Ellie, two years ago. He had a passion and a desire to create a foundation that supported women, who then supported children - the future of Rwanda. He has three schools: the deaf school, wisdom primary school and the nursery. Visiting all three, I have my opinions about them all.
To begin, the Nursery is loud and crazy. Picture young children running around classrooms, screaming, shouting, with snotty noses and who knows what kind of germs on their hands. However, when they smile at you with their big eyes that have yet to see despair, hurt and disappointment, your heart melts. The days are long... very long. The only thing that managed to get me through my first visit there was the crackers they gave out at lunch time. Oh, how I miss those crackers.
Wisdom Primary school is where I am at. Milijana (from UWO), Naomi (from New Brunswick) and I are scheduled to be there from 6:30am-5:00pm on Mondays and Tuesdays. Wednesdays we don't start until 1pm, although the head director, Vian, usually calls me at 7am to be in as soon as possible. Thursdays we have off, however, Vian usually calls me in the morning to be there as soon as possible. (Boys... always needing the help of women). Fridays we are there at 6:30am again, but finish after lunch since the rest of the day is used for Sabbath preparation. We are at FCYF to teach the children reading and computers. Computers was quite a shock since we didn't know we were teaching that, since I have no idea how computers work, and they don't have working computers at the school. Reading is also a hassle since most of the time the teachers just throw us into a classroom and say, 'teach.' Well, what kind of reading? What level are they at? What kind of lesosn do you want them to have? Do we need to mark things? These questions fly through my head all the time. And frustration ALWAYS surfaces since I am not a trained teacher and fear moulding the minds of the young. However, we have learned to wing it. We teach basic learning sentences, play hang man with them, have them write new words in their note books, mark them, and usually finish up with a game. I tried to teach them 'simon says' so they could learn more English. However, they didn't grasp the whole 'simon says' part so they just followed my actions. The first day I did this we were preoccupied with these movements for 30min. It's safe to say I never want to play simon says again.
The teachers are absolutely wonderful. They make us laugh and always make us feel welcome. They use us to their advantage too. The past week I didn't even get to a classroom to teach (which is a bit of a break), but instead was put behind a computer to type up their end of May exams. Took FOREVER! However, I finally felt that my typing skills and (though minimum) ability with a writing program were used to benefit the school. It's nice to be needed. I finally felt that I was needed there.
The school for the deaf is wonderful. It's an hour and fifteen minute walk so we are never placed there. We did, though, go for a visit and I was absolutely flabbergasted at how smart these children are. I never knew there would be so many deaf children in Rwanda. They learn just like everyone else. They gave me a specific name; pointing to their nose to show my nose ring. The CHH (child head of house hold) is a program that meets at the deaf school too. These are children who lost guardians and parents in the genocide and are now being taught basic skills (sewing, electricity, carpentry, etc) so they can survive on their own and support their younger siblings. I have never met such inspiring people. "The woman on the rug" are what I call the ladies who sew baskets. They break my heart. I look at their lives and how they live at the school, get up every morning at 5am to start pulling out their threads and needles so they can start their days. They sit on their rug...singing, laughing, talking, working, thinking. One girl just gave birth to a baby a month ago. She is no older than 17. A baby that was conceived through force. Another girl is missing an arm. It was cut off during the genocide and she was left to die beside her already murdered parents. Moving into her Aunt and Uncles place, she was later kicked out because she was one too many mouths to feed. Thank God for the warm heart of a woman in town, who can barely afford to keep herself alive, who took in the young lady as her own.
These women have no future it seems. Their lives are the rug. Their lives are the baskets they make. Yet, everyday they sit there - with cheerful song and hopeful dreams that one day their lives will be more than the rug they sit on for 12 hours a day. I thank God for the options, the choices and the plans He has for my life. I still can't seem to grip my mind around these women. Is it better to live a life in hope of something better - not knowing all that the rest of the world has to offer? Or to know what kind of life is available in other parts of the world - but will never be able to reach it?
I ask myself this everyday...
Loving you all. Missing you all.
-Steph
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
"Dare to be Different"
Hello my dear friends,
I apologize for the absence of my blog posts. Life here is so different so I'm really trying to submerge myself in the culture and not have things at home getting in the way of my time here. However, when I do get a chance to use the internet I am overwhelmed (in an amazingly loving way) by the encouraging emails and reminders that I'm being thought of and prayed for. I truly appreciate them, with all my heart, and would love for them to keep coming! (please be patient for a response).
This blog post is a little outdated, however, I wrote it down in my notebook because I really want to share this experience with you all. Lets go back to last Saturday. Picture this with me:
My family are Seventh Day Adventists so their Sabbath and church day is on Saturday. Waking up at 8am (which is a sleep in for me), we ate breakfast, put on our finest Sunday gear and headed off down the road to our church. Mama Consolee was wearing a stunning traditional gear with matching head piece, while the children put on their cleanest trousers with polished shoes. Slowly walking to church, I enjoyed watching my 'Mama' greet many people and introducing me as her, 'beautiful daughter.' This picture seems nice and lovely, yes? I ask you to now open up a new picture in your mind:
I walk into the back of the church, where 400 people are already seated... with one whisper of, 'muzungu,' my presence was quickly made noticeable and with a giant *whoosh* every head was turned around to stare at the new vistor. Sitting down (in what seemed to be the smack dab middle of the church), my temperature quickly rose with the lack of air conditioning and shoulder to shoulder seating. Little did I know that while I was busy trying to get my head around all the stares, a man came over to Consolee to ask the new visitors name. Ten minutes later when church had finally started, a special announcement was made to, "Welcome our new visitor, Stephanie from Canada. Would you please stand up so we can wave to you?" Up I rise, in the middle of now 600 people, to have every single pair of eyes on me, and hands waving. What an interesting experience!! Although I can hold my own in front of a big crowd, it felt very different to see how big of a deal was being made over the new white visitor. Being white gives you such an odd amount of 'power'. You get to cut the lines, people go out of their way for you (except for busses... they'll hit you. Literally. I have the bruise to prove it), children run over to hug you, and everyone loves to walk beside you or as close to you as possible. I am still struggling with this new attention that I am receiving, but bohoro bohoro (slowly slowly) I am accepting these new changes.
So, I am going to ask you to imagine one more picture:
After our small groups ended (13 of us... 12 middle aged Rwandan men and me), we came back into the church to sit through another 3 hours of I have no idea what. I sat there picturing what the church looked like with a random speck of white in the middle of a black page. The first thing that came to my mind was a, 'Dare to be Different' poster with a bunch of traditional dalmation puppies...except one that was speckled with rainbow colours. I felt like that rainbow coloured puppy. That image made me smile while I was sitting there with my little brother, Kenney (4) on my lap.
3.5 hour church seems like a nightmare on a Saturday morning. Being crammed between 600 Rwandans, not knowing what is being said, having eyes on me at all times, and sweating more than I would like to admit (lets be realistic here people... it's Rwanda..) really isn't anyones first choice I assume. However, with a child on my lap, listening to how devoted these people are to their faith and their culture, and feeling welcomed to a new church family, I smile at being different. I smile at my new poster image of a Muzungu in a Rwandan church, with the phrase, 'Dare to be Different' plastered across the top.
I apologize for the absence of my blog posts. Life here is so different so I'm really trying to submerge myself in the culture and not have things at home getting in the way of my time here. However, when I do get a chance to use the internet I am overwhelmed (in an amazingly loving way) by the encouraging emails and reminders that I'm being thought of and prayed for. I truly appreciate them, with all my heart, and would love for them to keep coming! (please be patient for a response).
This blog post is a little outdated, however, I wrote it down in my notebook because I really want to share this experience with you all. Lets go back to last Saturday. Picture this with me:
My family are Seventh Day Adventists so their Sabbath and church day is on Saturday. Waking up at 8am (which is a sleep in for me), we ate breakfast, put on our finest Sunday gear and headed off down the road to our church. Mama Consolee was wearing a stunning traditional gear with matching head piece, while the children put on their cleanest trousers with polished shoes. Slowly walking to church, I enjoyed watching my 'Mama' greet many people and introducing me as her, 'beautiful daughter.' This picture seems nice and lovely, yes? I ask you to now open up a new picture in your mind:
I walk into the back of the church, where 400 people are already seated... with one whisper of, 'muzungu,' my presence was quickly made noticeable and with a giant *whoosh* every head was turned around to stare at the new vistor. Sitting down (in what seemed to be the smack dab middle of the church), my temperature quickly rose with the lack of air conditioning and shoulder to shoulder seating. Little did I know that while I was busy trying to get my head around all the stares, a man came over to Consolee to ask the new visitors name. Ten minutes later when church had finally started, a special announcement was made to, "Welcome our new visitor, Stephanie from Canada. Would you please stand up so we can wave to you?" Up I rise, in the middle of now 600 people, to have every single pair of eyes on me, and hands waving. What an interesting experience!! Although I can hold my own in front of a big crowd, it felt very different to see how big of a deal was being made over the new white visitor. Being white gives you such an odd amount of 'power'. You get to cut the lines, people go out of their way for you (except for busses... they'll hit you. Literally. I have the bruise to prove it), children run over to hug you, and everyone loves to walk beside you or as close to you as possible. I am still struggling with this new attention that I am receiving, but bohoro bohoro (slowly slowly) I am accepting these new changes.
So, I am going to ask you to imagine one more picture:
After our small groups ended (13 of us... 12 middle aged Rwandan men and me), we came back into the church to sit through another 3 hours of I have no idea what. I sat there picturing what the church looked like with a random speck of white in the middle of a black page. The first thing that came to my mind was a, 'Dare to be Different' poster with a bunch of traditional dalmation puppies...except one that was speckled with rainbow colours. I felt like that rainbow coloured puppy. That image made me smile while I was sitting there with my little brother, Kenney (4) on my lap.
3.5 hour church seems like a nightmare on a Saturday morning. Being crammed between 600 Rwandans, not knowing what is being said, having eyes on me at all times, and sweating more than I would like to admit (lets be realistic here people... it's Rwanda..) really isn't anyones first choice I assume. However, with a child on my lap, listening to how devoted these people are to their faith and their culture, and feeling welcomed to a new church family, I smile at being different. I smile at my new poster image of a Muzungu in a Rwandan church, with the phrase, 'Dare to be Different' plastered across the top.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Star gazing.
My dear friends,
As I am in a vulnerable situation, being in a strange country and house afterall, I feel it is only proper that I be vulnerable with you in this blog post. I cried my first Rwandan tears last night. I had officially moved in with my host family, (Mama Consolee, Papa Olivia, little sister Kelia, little brother Kelly, little brother Kenney and little brother Kenneth) and was given a tour of the house. My room is very small. So small that the door can't even open all the way because the bed gets in the way. The bathroom is a hole in the ground in a little outhouse type protector, with the bathing room right beside it. However, that is not what made my eyes fill with water. Before dinner, mama Consolee and I were talking in the sitting room about anything that her English would allow her to say. She asked me if people in Canada had it as bad as people in Rwanda and my heart felt so guilty when I said that most of Canada is pretty well off. She proceeded to ask me what age I had to be to move out of my parents house. When I told her that you were welcome there until your parents had enough of you, she was shocked. It also shocked her that I am not dating anyone right now, as the age to get married in Rwanda is 21. "Marriage here is an obligation. If you are not married, you are laughed at." - Mama Consolee. I don't think I have ever actually realized just how blessed and priviliged I have it in Canada and in the community I live in. Yes, I have always known I am blessed to have a house, food, clothes, an education and an income... however, what about the choice of love? Although I am no where near being in love right now, I still have that option of wanting to get married for that reason. When I explained to her that I was not dating anyone and did not plan on getting married and having kids for a while, she just looked at me and said, "ah... you have freedom." At first thought, I was reminded of the jokes I have with some of my girlfriends about how being single is great because I have all the freedom in the world to go where I want to go and do what I want to do for this period in my life. However, she meant it as actual freedom... the ability to choose what I want in my life.
I was holding in tears the entire conversation, as well as through dinner (rice and cabbage) and again when they were saying good night to their new 'daughter.' As soon as my door locked and I sat on my bed, everything just poured out. I miss my house. I miss my bed. I miss my clothes and a warm shower. I miss an indoor bathroom. I miss my real mama so much. I miss my dad and my sisters. I miss the familiar and I miss you all. My 'little sister', Kelia, has been showering me with hugs since I entered the house... but it's not the same. What I would give and do to get a hug from a real friend and a real family member at home.
Before I fell asleep, I had to go outside and brush my teeth. As I was brushing, I looked up at the sky and saw the stars. Mmmmm how the stars warm my heart. It was a nice answer to a heart-felt prayer. Looking at the stars I felt, for a split second, like I was once again laying on my playhouse roof in my backyard, stargazing with the ones I love. The stars look very similar here as they do at home since it is very cloudy here. There are many of them and they are glorious. I thank God for the amazing beauty that He created for us to look at. I thank Him even more for giving me that quick taste of home when I was so desparate to feel it.
I have so much more to say to you, my dear friends, but for now, I leave you with this blog post. Perhaps in the future blogs I'll go into detail about my cave exploring, visiting the Rwandan hospital for another girl here, and getting Kinyarwanda lessons from a prisoner at the prison down the road from me. However, for now, I ask you to pray for peace and comfort for me, and that I will get past these initial fears and wantings to come home. I have been given an amazing opportunity to come here... I chose to be here. I pray that I can make the most of it.
I love you all and miss you very much
-Stephanie
As I am in a vulnerable situation, being in a strange country and house afterall, I feel it is only proper that I be vulnerable with you in this blog post. I cried my first Rwandan tears last night. I had officially moved in with my host family, (Mama Consolee, Papa Olivia, little sister Kelia, little brother Kelly, little brother Kenney and little brother Kenneth) and was given a tour of the house. My room is very small. So small that the door can't even open all the way because the bed gets in the way. The bathroom is a hole in the ground in a little outhouse type protector, with the bathing room right beside it. However, that is not what made my eyes fill with water. Before dinner, mama Consolee and I were talking in the sitting room about anything that her English would allow her to say. She asked me if people in Canada had it as bad as people in Rwanda and my heart felt so guilty when I said that most of Canada is pretty well off. She proceeded to ask me what age I had to be to move out of my parents house. When I told her that you were welcome there until your parents had enough of you, she was shocked. It also shocked her that I am not dating anyone right now, as the age to get married in Rwanda is 21. "Marriage here is an obligation. If you are not married, you are laughed at." - Mama Consolee. I don't think I have ever actually realized just how blessed and priviliged I have it in Canada and in the community I live in. Yes, I have always known I am blessed to have a house, food, clothes, an education and an income... however, what about the choice of love? Although I am no where near being in love right now, I still have that option of wanting to get married for that reason. When I explained to her that I was not dating anyone and did not plan on getting married and having kids for a while, she just looked at me and said, "ah... you have freedom." At first thought, I was reminded of the jokes I have with some of my girlfriends about how being single is great because I have all the freedom in the world to go where I want to go and do what I want to do for this period in my life. However, she meant it as actual freedom... the ability to choose what I want in my life.
I was holding in tears the entire conversation, as well as through dinner (rice and cabbage) and again when they were saying good night to their new 'daughter.' As soon as my door locked and I sat on my bed, everything just poured out. I miss my house. I miss my bed. I miss my clothes and a warm shower. I miss an indoor bathroom. I miss my real mama so much. I miss my dad and my sisters. I miss the familiar and I miss you all. My 'little sister', Kelia, has been showering me with hugs since I entered the house... but it's not the same. What I would give and do to get a hug from a real friend and a real family member at home.
Before I fell asleep, I had to go outside and brush my teeth. As I was brushing, I looked up at the sky and saw the stars. Mmmmm how the stars warm my heart. It was a nice answer to a heart-felt prayer. Looking at the stars I felt, for a split second, like I was once again laying on my playhouse roof in my backyard, stargazing with the ones I love. The stars look very similar here as they do at home since it is very cloudy here. There are many of them and they are glorious. I thank God for the amazing beauty that He created for us to look at. I thank Him even more for giving me that quick taste of home when I was so desparate to feel it.
I have so much more to say to you, my dear friends, but for now, I leave you with this blog post. Perhaps in the future blogs I'll go into detail about my cave exploring, visiting the Rwandan hospital for another girl here, and getting Kinyarwanda lessons from a prisoner at the prison down the road from me. However, for now, I ask you to pray for peace and comfort for me, and that I will get past these initial fears and wantings to come home. I have been given an amazing opportunity to come here... I chose to be here. I pray that I can make the most of it.
I love you all and miss you very much
-Stephanie
Friday, May 6, 2011
I'll Fly Away...
Rwanda: "the land of a thousand hills." - What an accurate phrase!
Hello my dear friends :)
Welcome to blog 2 of my amazing adventure. I am happy and grateful to say that we have arrived in Musanze safely after a long 4 day travel. After leaving Toronto, we landed in London, England, around 11:30am (every one of our flights were on time! That's a first for me!) and headed straight for the exit. We wanted to walk, see and explore! If you know me prety well, you can vouch for the fact that I am geographically dense. Spin me around in a circle and put me in my backyard and I would probably have trouble finding my house.... ok, maybe that's an exaggeration but you get the point. My two travel ladies, Naomi and Milijana, and I managed to buy tube tickets (like the subway), make our way into London and see Big Ben, the Eye of London, Westminster Abbey and Buckingham palace! I say to myself, 'brava!!' When you're forced to depend on yourself you can really be surprised at the strengths you may actually poses.
We then took an 8.5 hour flight to Kenya where a baby cried in front of us for the majority of the trip (who says kids are a joy?). After 2 hours of being in and out of sleep in the Kenya airport, we took off for Kigali where I was greeted by one of my best friends - Karyn Makins. What a long awaited hug that was! It was an amazing 'ease' into the Rwandan city having her there. She not only greeted me with an amazing carepackage (cell phone and soup included), she also showed me around the city, convinced me to take my first taxi moto ride (motorcycle taxi), showed me where her home has been for these past months and then took me to a cute and quiet outdoor restaurant, 'chocolate' (shocolat). It was such a blessing and a joy having her comfort and conversation with me for my first full day in a new country.
My first sleep in Rwanda was in a hostile the our mentor, Jemma, booked for us so we didn't have to rush and bus it to our city. My sleep was made 100x's better by having my wonderful bear, Tony, that my dear friends from work made me. Thanks again Jeff and Amanda :)
It was then an early morning to breakfast and lunch, a 2.5 hour bus ride of BEAUTIFUL scenary and lots of stares, a quick settle in at the Fair Children Youth Foundation director's house (where we'll be for the first 5 days before going to our host families) and an amazing meal (complete with rice, veggies and goat) that led me to here! The internet cafe!
I'm sorry this second blog isn't as detailed about the people, the places and my full experiences yet. I have limited time right now and need to organize the hundreds and hundreds of thoughts I'm having about this country. Every human I look at that looks 20+ makes me wonder what their eyes have seen and what their hearts have endured. The genocide only happened 17 years ago and I'm sure it is still fresh in many of their minds. Seeing the hotel de mes collins (sp?) remined me of the scenes I saw in 'Hotel Rwanda' and of the thousands of dead bodies lining the streets... the same streets that I walked on only yesterday.
I thank you so much for all your prayers and thoughts as I just begin my time away from home! They truly mean the world to me and I promise that I am repaying them all while I am here.
If you have a spare moment or two and would like to send me a postcard (because I absolutely LOVE getting mail!!), below is the address. Jemma says it takes approximately 1 month for mail to get to England from here, so I encourage you to start writing now :)
Stephanie Vanden Boomen
Fair Children Youth Foundation
P.O Box 5
Musanze, North Province
Rwanda
Love you all.
Peace and love
-Steph
ps- the blog title is 'I'll fly away' because Christian and Emmette (the director's 2 sons) have had that song on repeat since I walked through their door...apparently it's a favourite...and is already stuck in my head.
Hello my dear friends :)
Welcome to blog 2 of my amazing adventure. I am happy and grateful to say that we have arrived in Musanze safely after a long 4 day travel. After leaving Toronto, we landed in London, England, around 11:30am (every one of our flights were on time! That's a first for me!) and headed straight for the exit. We wanted to walk, see and explore! If you know me prety well, you can vouch for the fact that I am geographically dense. Spin me around in a circle and put me in my backyard and I would probably have trouble finding my house.... ok, maybe that's an exaggeration but you get the point. My two travel ladies, Naomi and Milijana, and I managed to buy tube tickets (like the subway), make our way into London and see Big Ben, the Eye of London, Westminster Abbey and Buckingham palace! I say to myself, 'brava!!' When you're forced to depend on yourself you can really be surprised at the strengths you may actually poses.
We then took an 8.5 hour flight to Kenya where a baby cried in front of us for the majority of the trip (who says kids are a joy?). After 2 hours of being in and out of sleep in the Kenya airport, we took off for Kigali where I was greeted by one of my best friends - Karyn Makins. What a long awaited hug that was! It was an amazing 'ease' into the Rwandan city having her there. She not only greeted me with an amazing carepackage (cell phone and soup included), she also showed me around the city, convinced me to take my first taxi moto ride (motorcycle taxi), showed me where her home has been for these past months and then took me to a cute and quiet outdoor restaurant, 'chocolate' (shocolat). It was such a blessing and a joy having her comfort and conversation with me for my first full day in a new country.
My first sleep in Rwanda was in a hostile the our mentor, Jemma, booked for us so we didn't have to rush and bus it to our city. My sleep was made 100x's better by having my wonderful bear, Tony, that my dear friends from work made me. Thanks again Jeff and Amanda :)
It was then an early morning to breakfast and lunch, a 2.5 hour bus ride of BEAUTIFUL scenary and lots of stares, a quick settle in at the Fair Children Youth Foundation director's house (where we'll be for the first 5 days before going to our host families) and an amazing meal (complete with rice, veggies and goat) that led me to here! The internet cafe!
I'm sorry this second blog isn't as detailed about the people, the places and my full experiences yet. I have limited time right now and need to organize the hundreds and hundreds of thoughts I'm having about this country. Every human I look at that looks 20+ makes me wonder what their eyes have seen and what their hearts have endured. The genocide only happened 17 years ago and I'm sure it is still fresh in many of their minds. Seeing the hotel de mes collins (sp?) remined me of the scenes I saw in 'Hotel Rwanda' and of the thousands of dead bodies lining the streets... the same streets that I walked on only yesterday.
I thank you so much for all your prayers and thoughts as I just begin my time away from home! They truly mean the world to me and I promise that I am repaying them all while I am here.
If you have a spare moment or two and would like to send me a postcard (because I absolutely LOVE getting mail!!), below is the address. Jemma says it takes approximately 1 month for mail to get to England from here, so I encourage you to start writing now :)
Stephanie Vanden Boomen
Fair Children Youth Foundation
P.O Box 5
Musanze, North Province
Rwanda
Love you all.
Peace and love
-Steph
ps- the blog title is 'I'll fly away' because Christian and Emmette (the director's 2 sons) have had that song on repeat since I walked through their door...apparently it's a favourite...and is already stuck in my head.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
This is not goodbye
Muraho (hello) my dear friends,
By the time you stumble across this blog post, I will be heading towards the Toronto Musanze , Rwanda
Let me give you a little inside look at what my journey will be consisting of:
May 3rd is the day this excursion begins. Leaving the airport at 11:20pm - stopping in London England Kenya Kigali Rwanda noon on May 5th. You know how people film their friends and family after just being sedated for something (aka wisdom teeth)? And how the victim is all loopy and out of it? Yea, I am assuming that I'll be just as deranged after so many planes, buses, layovers and lack of sleep and exercise.
As soon as I have arrived, (I assume) I'll be meeting my host family and getting settled in to my new home. How strange to think that the family I am living with for 3 months are complete strangers to me now, yet by the end of this experience they will be just like the real deal. Speaking minimum to zero English themselves, and only just learning Kinyarwanda myself, I'm predicting many laughs over desperate games of charades. But, that only adds to this magnificent experience, right?
For my first 90 days, I will be going back and forth between three placements (which I'm told are a 45 minute and a 1.5 hour walk... one way.... up hill... yea, let that sink in). My latest update informs me that I will be spending three days (a week) at the Wisdom Primary school
My family and friends have only provided strength, encouragement, gifts and support to me when preparing for this adventure. From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you all for being so warm and loving as I take off for the summer of a lifetime. I miss you already.
As my first blog for this trip comes to an end, I can’t help but think of how my words will change, the themes of my writing will differ, the stories that will soon fill your computer screen. I’m going to change. I’m going to be tested. I’m going to be moulded into a woman I have long desired to be. I pray that I will be kept safe and that my heart will be opened to wonderful people, experiences, foods and adventures. I have trust in God - knowing that He’ll provide, prove faithful and trustworthy. I will be leaving London Rwanda
If I know at least one thing about myself, I know that I do not like goodbyes and do not handle them well. So, lets not say goodbye - I'll be seeing you soon.
Joshua 1:9 - "For the lord your God will be with you wherever you go."
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