Last morning at agahozo

     This morning, we awoke at 5.30 AM to hike up to the dining hall for breakfast, the last meal at the village and the last time we’ll probably ever see our friends here again. Everyone at the village knew we were leaving today, so as they walked into breakfast, they each gave us a hug one by one before grabbing their daily bread role and porridge. After a round of twenty or so hugs, one of my closest friends, Benny came up to say goodbye, He’s only two months new into the village so his English isn’t very good but after talking with me everyday for the month, I can already see the strides and the progress he’s made. It took him a while to open up to me when I first got here but by the last couple weeks, he was holding my hand (holding hands is very normal for friends here, even for boys), inviting me over everyday so I could help him with homework or just simply hang out, and sat by me at nearly every meal. I really came to love him. I’ve never met such a sweet, friendly person in my life. He opened up to me about his past- how his parents were killed in the genocide and his struggles growing up, and slowly, I became less of a “volunteer” to him and more of a friend.

Showing Benny photobooth for the first time

      Many of the kids have abandonment problems from their past so when we first got to the village, the teachers made it very clear that we needed to stress to the kids when exactly we were leaving so it wouldn’t be a shock to them. Although I told Benny many times the day I was going to be leaving, the communication barriers did not get my message across and when he finally understood a couple of days before, he was startled and taken aback. “It’s impossible” was the first thing he said, “you must stay longer.” Every time I saw him since then, he would say “you go next month instead?” or “you change your mind?” It was so hard leaving Benny. In Rwanda, crying in public, talking about their problems and openly expressing feelings is not apart of their culture which is one of the reasons why recovering from the genocide in Rwanda is so difficult. Whatever happens to them, they stand strong and move along with their lives. Some of the Rwandan girls who started crying right away ran out of the room so they wouldn’t be seen. When Benny walked into breakfast that morning, he wouldn’t look at me in the eyes although he saw me crying and he gave me a quick hug, gave me a note which I read later on (it was absolutely beautiful) and walked away. One of the girls in my family hugged me and said, “Jesus will always be with you. You are always apart of our family, I’m so sorry you are sad but you will come back and visit your family here once again.” I’ve never become so connected and attached to such a new, unique place before; instantly I felt at home in the village, and the friends that I made here I will remember forever. The hardest moment in my life was leaving the cafeteria, waving goodbye for the last time and walking down the windy dirt path through the farm and back to my guesthouse that overlooks the beautiful hills of Rwanda.