Before my mom and I begin our once in a lifetime Tanzanian
safari, I thought I’d share all the fun memories we have made in East Africa.
Since the day my mom arrived, we’ve been playing a game of tallying who’s
winning: America or Africa. “One point for USA!” my mom will say. Props to her
because Africa sure seems to be in the lead.
America Wins Again:
To begin on a positive note, my mom has experienced and seen
beautiful things in Rwanda. She’s seen new grains, climbed hills, seen the
bases of volcanoes, the top of Kilimanjaro, drank lots of Fantas and tried
Rwandan corn. She was serenaded to by my students and colleagues on two
separate occasions. She has had outfits made and done so many Rwandan
greetings, you’d think she was umunyarwanda
kazi. She was successfully yelling at and scaring away the children that
stalk my house by the second day. “Oya Oya!” she would yell at the top of her
lungs, just like her daughter. She turned down some marriage proposals for me.
She has ridden not one broke down, sketchy matatu van but several. She has
dipped her toes in Lake Kivu and saw a caged Black Mamba snake. Mama Amanda has
killed spiders and used a squatty-potty for days at a time. She has also
mastered the whole Peace Corps routine:
-
heat a small amount of water
-
fill bucket with hot and cold water
-
use cup to pour over body
-
repeat as necessary
C’mon, how many moms do you know that could do that?
But Africa keeps winning:
Day one I got my mom on malaria meds but that didn’t stop me
from constantly suspecting she had it and therefore scaring the crap out of
her.* In English conversations, my mom commonly replies, “oh yeah”, only to
remember that in Kinyarwanda that means no. She had to eat ubugare, a dish made from cassava which smells and tastes like
“rotted, fetid horse flesh.” Mama Amanda experienced a smelly, crammed bus ride
during which approximately 22 people were crowed into a van that seats 18.
During this journey, Creepy McCreepster kept grabbing her hand and his partner
in crime, Leann’ Unclean Dean kept invading her personal space more and more.
On a later bus ride, a squealing puppy nipped at her feet and peed on the floor
below her seat. She became violently ill one night in Kigali and had resulting
aches and pains for 24 hours. She took so much pepto bismol that her tongue
became black. Our first night in
Tanzania I removed an intact sac of chigger eggs from her foot.* Afterwards,
she went at her mosquito bites with a Swiss army knife out of fear that they
were also parasites.* On this same day, we were robbed on the bus (ok, just a
dollar) and I burned my finger to the point that it’s covered in huge blisters.
She’s suffering from mosquito, spider and flea bites while I have none.
I would say that in this epic battle of wits and nerve, it
is neither America or Africa that is winning: it is my Mom. We have had a great
time and she’s been incredibly supportive when my spirits were at their lowest. We’ve spent a few days in Kigali, we
did the whole Peace Corps Rwanda thing in my village, we stayed with Tressa for
a night and spent my birthday week in Gisenyi on Lake Kivu. She has been able
to meet my exceptional Peace Corps buddies, most of my colleagues, Rwandan
women who have been like family to me and lots of beautiful children.
Most important to me is that I have someone to share the day
to day with and that is my mother. I can still feel crazy, frustrated and angry
while she is heroically putting up with the terrors of a less developed country
but at least we are together!
Goodmorningee finethankyouteachersitdown!
*Mom thanks Grandma for the valium and Zanax.
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