A Sunday Feast!

Today I met Serphina, my sister here,  to go to Church.  She is Catholic just like I am, so I didn’t really mind going to church with her.  In Rwanda, Christianity is huge, so I wasn’t too surprised how many people were at church.  Church lasted about an hour and forty five minutes; forty five minutes of just praying at the end.  It was hard to pay attention because the mass was in Kinywarwanda, but it was cool to see that the exact same thing happens in churches all over the world.  There was a big picture of the Pope on the wall, and I kind of laughed and remember my time in Rome when I met the Pope and wanted to ask him to join us at Oktoberfest (haha Kathleen and Elizabeth…) but I figured that with the language barrier, and the craziness of the story, she would not understand what the heck I was saying, so I passed on the story all together.

            After church (Seraphinas two sisters, brother, and mom were all at the mass too) we all walked to their house to have some lunch.  I was happy to be able to help cook because I have been wanting to learn how to use a Rwandan kitchen; pretty much an open flame with huge metal pots.   We cooked rice, beans, plantains (boiled with tomatoes), Some kind of meat stew, and of course, fried potato wedges (they call them chips, but they are pretty much French fries- served at every meal.)  So as the guest of honor, I went down the buffet line first.  I put a pile of rice on my plate and moved to the next pot when I heard my mom behind me saying something in Kinyarwanda as she slapped three more piles of rice on my plate.  She did this the whole way down the buffet.  My plate was piled so high, I was nervous to even walk with this giant mountain of food.  We all sat down and before we ate, passed around a huge tub of warm mayonnaise that I knew I wanted to avoid.  I tried to explain to them that I do not like Mayo, and they were completely shocked.  As we were eating, my mom noticed that I didn’t grab any meat from the stew (I wasn’t sure what kind of meat it was, and I am in general avoiding the meat here) so she run to the kitchen and somehow piled 4-5 chunks of meat on the top of my mound.  I seriously wish I had taken a picture of this feast.  I ate as much as I could with frequent stops to breath and try to fit more food in. I am known to put down a few steaks every now and then, but my appetite pales in comparison to that of the Rwandans!  My mom kept asking me the same question in Kinywarnda and finally my Seraphina translated for me.  She kept asking if I don’t eat in America.  I swear, I had eaten almost three quarters of this meal, and she was thinking that wasn’t enough!  So I reached down to the depths of my soul and was able to finish this monstrosity of a meal.

            After lunch my family walked me home and I lay in bed for an hour or so trying to digest.  After, I did my laundry outside (wow, the laundry and dryer machine invention deserves a Nobel Prize.)  Laundry takes a long time when you are hand washing and then drying on a clothesline, but its something to do, so I do not mind too much.