First Impressions - Rude is Relative

When I met my headmistress I was half an hour late and soaking wet. Late because it took an unexpected hour and a half for our lunch of fries and salad. Soaking because on the walk back there was a mini-monsoon (dry season = only the occasional torrential downpour). Then again, she also arrived four hours behind schedule to meet me. And none of these circumstances were rude; it’s just life. I apologized (yet to break my American conception of manners) but she waved it off and warmly told me to go change so I would be more comfortable.

One of the first questions every new class asks me is “Are you married?” And when I say no, they laugh and insist that I must have a fiancé or at least a boyfriend. (After a few classes I begin to feel like Bridget Jones…) In Rwanda, teachers are some of the most respected figures in society, so aren’t these questions prying and too personal? No. My students are just honestly curious. I’m practically the same age as some of them, but because I am standing in front of them as an “adult” they find it hard to believe I lack the normal signs of adult-like stability.

After all our discussions of “cultural adjustment” it’s these tiny shifts in perception that are the hardest to gauge. At least when people yell “muzungu!” at me I know why – I’m the only white person in Save, so it’s more of an amused “what the hell are you doing here?” than an insult or accusation. And by now I’m used to responding with a smile and “muraho!” (hello!) to diffuse any awkwardness. But everything else is so amorphous it falls under a general I-have-no-idea-what’s-going-on sense that I can’t attach to just one experience. For example, do I call into question my own authority if I erase the chalkboard myself instead of asking a student to do it? When people come “just to greet” me in my house, do they want to sit down and talk or just walk in, say hello and leave? We'll see.