Wiriwe! (Good afternoon in Kinyarwanda). We arrived in Kigali last night, and WOW. It could not be any more different than Kampala. As soon as we crossed the Rwandan border, the roads seemed smoother, the air cleaner, the land more cultivated. They even terrace the hills here so that rain will get stuck and fertilize crops, rather than flooding the bottom of the hill and causing erosion. Another interesting fact: plastic bags are illegal here. What would happen if the US prohibited plastic bags?? I can't even imagine, but it's great. Everything is clean, unlike Kampala, and quiet. It's a erfreshing change. But we are also in a very nice part of town (we move in with our Rwandan families on Tuesday), so we don't see any of the poorer side of the city - no homelessness, no shacks for houses... We are actually just down the road from the US Embassy, a huge building that sticks out like a sore thumb here. Typical.

Anyway, this morning we had our first Kinyarwanda lesson, which only made me realize how daunting the language barrier here promises to be, and a briefing from a local doctor. Then we wandered downtown for lunch and shopping in the supermarket, which seems just like one you could find in small town America. The bushes are even groomed here, and there is a fountain (donated by the international community, I think) in the town square. It does NOT feel like sub-Saharan Africa in the least. And SIT made us think that everywhere we went, we would need super conservative clothes - no shoulders, no cleavage, no knees, please! But in Kampala, those rules were ridiculous! People were very fashionable there, just tasteful. And the lower half seems to be the much more risque part to show... so SIT was right to be overly cautious, but they went a bit too far. I limited my wardrobe to their packing list, and I have nothing cute enough to blend in with everyone else! Fortunately, I can borrow clothes from people on my program, who had the sense to stray from the SIT guidelines.

Update on the people in my program: during our 12 hour bus ride yesterday, people sang songs from our middle school days, and I listened to Lion King music with the girl next to me. I couldn't sing because my voice has been gone since the minute we arrived :( We discussed near-death experiences (one girl was WHIPPED in a Bolivian village this past summer?) and the disparity between the rich and poor in America, and American party politics. These are my kind of people.