I am waiting to interview some Kigali orphans and Ian is off in Kabuga so I'll write an update for our eventful weekend. On Friday, my mother and I went to Gahini to see Vedaste, Gilbert and Habimana. I will try to get some pictures up here soon. They looked really cute in their school uniforms, khaki shorts, blue plaid shirts and black shoes. Vedaste is learning a lot of English and Habimana couldn't stop smiling. That is a big change from the first time I met him, before he started school. The headmaster told me that Vedaste and Habimana are the leaders of the boys, even though they are only in 4th grade and Gilbert is doing better. He finally passed first grade.

After this visit, we thought we were heading home but we stopped and had lunch with some cattle farmers who might sell cows to Solace for the widows. One of the farmers decided that we should see the cows so we parked our car on the side of the road and hopped into his to go to his farm, about 5 kilometers up dirt roads, in the middle of nowhere. As soon as we got there, we noticed the front tire was going flat. The farmer said it was no problem because there was a spare but then the spare was flat. Again, the farmer said it was no problem because one of the farm hands could catch a motorbike taxi to town to get the spare inflated. So, the guy runs off with the tire and we start looking at cows. 3 hours later, the tire still isn't back, it's about 30 minutes until sunset and my mother and I are late for a dinner date with some Canadians. We were just about to start walking when the guy with the tire came back. It turns out that no one would let him on their bike with a tire so he had to run the 5 kilometers to and from town with the tire on his head. We finally got home, 5 hours later than planned, and with no desire to see another cow for a long time. It was nice to come home and have a long, fun dinner with some Canadian Baptist missionaries who live down the street.

On Saturday, Ian arrived and we took my mother to the Kimironko market for her final day. As soon as we pulled up in our taxi, boys were covering the car, yelling at us to higher them to carry our groceries. The problem is that we weren't buying a lot and they had a hard time taking no for an answer. They followed us most of the time we were there. This is the big market where farmers from all over the region come to sell their produce so it's big and loud and full of everything you need. It's also only a fraction of the cost of the fancy, western markets in town.

My mom left Sunday after preaching to the widows and orphans at Solace. Ian and I spent the rest of the day walking into town (3 miles) to change money. It was a Gacaca day so everything was closed down except for one little place. No stores are supposed to be open because everyone is supposed to be at the courts, listening to the genocidaires confess. We passed one of the meetings and we could see the line of prisoners in pink sitting in front of a large crowd. I'm not allowed to go to Gacaca because you need government permission and an official has to accompany you and then they start asking questions and I try to stay away from politics as much as possible.

So, that was our weekend. Things will definitely be picking up now that Ian is here and my mother is gone. We're already both doing work. Our Solace jobs will be to evaluate the success of the child sponsorship program in an area called Kabuga (mostly Ian) and perform a needs assessment in Gasabo to see if a similar program would be effecitve there (mostly me). It should be a good summer.