Good morning, white man!

    That's right, folks, Rwanda has done what Disney couldn't and made a man out of me.  That everpresent word "muzungu" translates into English most closely as "white man."  My favorite moment thus far was late one afternoon, as the sun was setting, when an old guy came up to me, grabbed my hand, and joyfully exclaimed, "Good mornning, white man!"  He was 0 for 2, but I still smiled and shook his hand in return.
    So how has school been thus far?  My students have their moments of brilliance, and their moments when I want to throttle them.  Of course, they are teenagers, so that is to be expected.  I have to be careful, though, lest the weremango get me and transform me into a deliciously juicy fruit.  According to one of my students, "yesterday I had been mangoes."  Thus the legend was born!
    My favorite Rwandlish turn of phrase is "not!"  I'm not entirely sure where this originated, and at first it really drove me crazy, but now I like it.  Perhaps this is an example of linguistic Stockholm syndrome.  Rwandans don't just say "no," or at least if they do, I have yet to hear it.  The nearest explanation I could get is that they are taught that "no" is used with other words, while "not" is used as a negation.  Thus, I have had interactions like this in class:
    "And in America, the temperature can be below freezing for weeks at a time!"
    "Teacher, not! Not!"
It's actually really adorable, especially when fully grown men say it.  Occassionally, I ask ridiculous questions just so I can hear a resounding chorus of "not!"  They are nothing if not emphatic!
    Everyone at my school is crazy about football, and for good reason.  Our girls team has won both their games thus far this season, and has a chance to go on to compete at the district level in Gisenyi.  I was so proud of them, even though my entire contribution to their winning season has been to stand on the sidelines and cheer.  But perhaps the other team was so distracted by the site of a white man that they couldn't properly concentrate?  I already have big plans to teach my classes some cheers and songs to sing at the next match.  Any good suggestions?
    I've been in to Kigali a few times recently, and it always makes me feel like a starstruck hick from the boonies.  For one thing, women in the city actually show their knees.  I was scandalized.  Going into Nakumatt, the Rwandan equivalent of Wal-Mart is an experience in and of itself.  In my village, there are two shops where you can (sometimes) by airtime, pineapple, fanta, and paper--assuming the shops are open, which is always a hit or miss prospect.  There is also a lady that sells tomatoes and avacado from her doorstep.  Sometimes.  So walking into a store that stocks twenty varieties of pasta, real electronic appliances, and refrigerated milk, is a bit of a shock to the system.  I always have to remind myself to keep breathing while browsing the overflowing aisles.
    Earlier this month, I made it over to Rulindo to visit a few fellow PCVs.  I have now officially watched Lion King while in Africa.  I'm not sure if this makes me a good person or a bad person, but it certainly makes me a zen person! And yes, hakuna matata really does mean no worries. Ni byo.
     Okay, friends! I am running low on internet time, and everyone in the internet cafe is watching me type and congratulating me on my speed and efficiency, so I'm going to call this post finished and go to the market to get some avacado and carrots!