Yes, Jovin, the World is Your Four Lane Highway

Am coming to the end of a busy day. Have been to a retreat this morning, then had to create my first power point presentation on the project I am managing to be presented tomorrow afternoon to all the funders. Big pressure for week one and a bit. Work is moving along precisely as it should.

With much time for reflection, and with my favorite driver Jovin by my side, I have been thinking a lot about the people who seemingly arbitrarily have come to play an influential role in my life. Jovin, for instance, is a driver with UNDP. It will be he who I share much of the next six months + of my life with. Instead of my family or my friends, or even really my colleagues, Jovin will know when I've had a bad day, he will know when I've had a great day, he will know which villagers are giving me a hard time and which will become my friends. It is he who I talk to about religion and politics, and more importantly, about various techniques I'm to employ to keep him awake on our long journeys. So far, I'm to poke him if it looks like he's nodding off. We also are to keep the windows wide open at all times, no matter that the extensive air pollution gives me a headache, so that the air keeps him awake. He also likes if we leave five minutes early back to Kigali so that he can get his smoke break in half way. So much so that he was not looking impressed when the Nyagatare project coordinator suggested we view' just one more site'. He also likes to careen down the highway, dodging in and out of traffic, and blowing his horn at a mighty blast when passers by, children, goats, chickens etc. dare to get in his way. The world is indeed his fourway highway. He skillfully dodges ridiculous traffic jams at the end of the day that are always on the hill that leads to my home, so I'm very grateful to him.

Jovin's eldest daughter is my age (he's got nine kids. NINE.), and I suspect he's taken me under his wing, though he would never outright say it. He's got a sparkle in his eye, laughs his head off when people scream MUZUNGO! (White man) as we pass by, and when they follow me around like the paparazzi taking as many pictures as possible, much to my chagrin. Will now get caught and have evidence for posterity when I have a bad haire day. He is there when I start and end my day. And the first day I spent with him, he demanded to know my religion. I don't think he cares so much what the religion of choice is, as long as it is something. When I mentioned it was not yet well-defined, he gave me a disgusted look, and from time to time busts out some catholic hymns perhaps to get me inspired. But regardless of the fact that we have been randomly thrown together, I am so grateful to have him.

Today at lunch I marched off to the local supermarket and bought tape (to tape up my pictures of you-all the ridiculously important people in my life that I can't bare to not have with me at all times), a french language set so that I can more easily partake in the meetings that are supposed to be in english but inevitably fall into french hollering, free weights (as I did not closely check the size of my excercise ball and am dismayed to find that it would be better suited for an oompa loompa-will have to more carefully consider how to implement it into my daily routine), and some water. Am v. pleased with my purchases and am looking forward to getting home and making my new nook in the world my own.