Talking Myself Into Trouble

Embracing the culture and seeking to thrive rather than simply survive,

I have reached that troubling point in learning language where I now know just enough to get me into trouble and not enough to get me back out! 

Working in the community of Cyeza each afternoon conducting interviews for our community development assessment, I have had ample opportunities to improve my limited kinyarwanda. Walking from the bumpy, dusty dirt road, about twenty minutes down one hill and up another to our assigned cell, I pass the time by talking to every person I met along the path. Over the past week I have become a pro at the greetings and basic responses. Our interpreter has found great joy in teasing me over this fact and even stated that the people are going to start calling me "amakuru" (how are you) because I say it to everyone. 

However, on our last walk out of Cyeza I found myself in a bit of a situation. Walking through a group of people resting on the hillside I greeted them and asked the very few questions I knew. This sparked great excitement and delight from them all and caused one woman to even jump up, embrace me with joy and then rattle off a list of questions of her own.  Catching maybe one of the hundred words she managed to spew forth I was overwhelmed and helpless. Resorting to English, I informed her that I did not understand and then made my way onwards, apologizing with what little French I knew, hoping she understood and did not mistake my silence for rudeness. Walking away, I wished that my communication skills were more advanced. 

This seems to be a common problem that I have now encountered in nearly every country I have lived in during this trip. Oh to be a walking talking language book - maybe one day!  

*Photos in this blog by Roshanda Cummings