No Longer a Mzungu

Landing in Amsterdam brought the jarring realization that I was no loner a minority and that our group was much harder to locate within the masses of white faces! No more stares, shouts of sista, sista! or pleads to buy anything from street venders was a surprising return to animinity.

I have to admit, after a long day of traveling (we took a three hour cramped bus ride from Butare to Kigali, then caught a flight from Kigali to Arusha, from Arusha to Dar, a brief layover, then a flight from Dar to Amsterdam, THEN an hour train to the Hague!) When we finally arrived in the Hague and ventured into the city, I wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Probably a mix of utter exhaustion from my Ambien induced nap on the plane, a desire for food, the realization that I had absolutly no way to either exchange US dollars or withdraw from ATMs (fun story for later...) And the fact that my 'Africa' clothes weren't quite up to par with European fashion (dirty Tshirts and long cotten skirts aren't really 'in' with the hipster-chic Euroipeans-who knew?) Call it mild culture shock-going from impoverished Rwanda to an incredibly wealthy area of Europe will do the trick. Where Porsches roam the streets, resturants commonly charge over 20 euros for entrees and people dress to the nines everyday-we certainly weren't in Africa anymore.

As I passed designer shoe stores, I couldn't help invisioning the number of bednets each pair could be sold for, or was reminded of the hungry street kids in Butare when I ate my lunch (which was delicious by they way). Regardless, this city of mixed emotions was sure to bring many adventures and perhaps new insights and a space to relax while enjoying each other's company for one final week.