I do not much feel like blogging, but here is the deal. I am nearing the end of my study abroad program, which startles me to think that I have passed nearly a whole semester in Rwanda. I do not want to try to summarize my experience here in nice, trite understatements, nor do I want to prematurely analyze what I have learned or gone through since I still have a fair amount of time here. But here is my life for the past few weeks. I go to class every day except Thursdays. I run. I traveled to Gisenyi to revisit my practicum site and the friends I made there. I bought two 'african' shirts for myself. I have put off journaling so that it now feels like a necessary chore. I do not take pictures because I am not a tourist. I talk about hell and universalism with my friends, we mostly do not come to any sure conclusions. I wash my laundry by hand and enjoy the starchiness of the dried fabrics after they come off the clothes line. I have hung out with my Rwandan friends in Kigali, often visiting them in their houses. I try to ignore the boisterous girls. I like to pick out Bookends on the guitar; Simon and Garfunkel astound me daily. I go to church, usually at the Free Methodist church. They always make us sing a song for them; this week we sang "there is power in the blood" but it did not go over as well as I had hoped. We danced a lot during the Palm Sunday afternoon service; it got really lively and stuffy.
Alright, that is enough seemingly pointless blogging from me. I do not like writing to no one in particular, or maybe just no one in general, so I will stop here. Good night, ijoro gyiza.
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