The Last Saturday of every month is Umuganda

Early Saturday morning I awoke to the chicken cockling. I was ready to do umuganda. What is umuganda you may ask? It is a time when everyone within the community get together to clean up the neighborhood. We work together and when we are finished, we sit underneath a shaded area provided by an advocado tree and talk about the issues of the community. As I prepared to go, I took my bucket bath, ate a few imineke, threw on my PCV T-shirt and scooted out the gate. Down the narrow, rocky path to the main road to meet my supervisor. She was already sweeping in front of the house. I did not want to look like a slacker so I immediately picked up the broom and began to sweep. Of course everyone stopped to stare at me. This is Muzungu TV.
Walking the dirt path's I lagg behind a 60 year old woman who glides down narrow, rocky, discombobulated hills effortlessly. They are so narrow one must hold on to the walls that enclose them. I feel like I am Aladdin, or Ali Babbah and the 40 thieves, exploring some new esoteric city and only this old wise woman who holds my hand is my guide. I am umwana, I am like a child and must be handled with care. But this is not a movie, as I look around-I see this is my reality and what I will face day in and day out. She is not Rafiki from the lion king. She is my supervisor and this is my community, my neighborhood. Look there, my umuturanye...neighbors. The children play in the path way alone. They call my name...Rachaelle! Rachaelle! Like they are my cheerleaders. The women dressed in bright colors and patterns greet me, smile, or laugh. Some wonder how I can speak there language. Everyone stares as I walk with Emmerance. I want to show off my language skills, so I speak in my most nonchalant Kinyarwanda. They laugh, but I am accustom to it now.