March came and went, just like rainstorms in Rwanda do. It feels really intense at first, like the thunder is literally going to shake your house off of its foundation. The drops on your roof are so incredibly loud, it sounds like it must be hailing, even though that pretty much never happens here. But, after the initial shock and downpour, the sky cracks open and the sun starts bleeding through the clouds. Slowly, the day’s gray tone fades and light returns, highlighting all of the beauty that’s right outside my front door. March was the exact same way. At first, it felt overwhelming. Time was in fact passing, but for me it felt as though it was standing still. The feelings of homesickness and yearning for familiarity set in hard early in the month, making a daily routine hard to follow. But, just as the rainstorm always fades, so do the negative feelings. Because in Rwanda, it’s hard to feel sad. The people are too friendly to keep a smile off your face, the scenery is too pretty not to take a million pictures of. The way of life here is extremely different from what I’m used to, but I’m starting to appreciate it rather than dwell on it.
March was the most eventful month I’ve had since moving here, and I say that in the best possible way. We had a group from Nobles High School come to visit, and for the first time, I was the veteran showing people around. I got to tell them about my first three months here and answer all of their questions. It made me feel a myriad of emotions, knowing I was explaining this country as my home now rather than just another blip on a map. It made me feel proud, and happy, and good about what we are doing here. While that group was here visiting, I got to lead my first coaching clinic with the help of their championship-winning girl’s basketball coach. We showed all of our Rwandan coaches new drills and explained which parts of the game the drills were emphasizing. I felt comfortable leading my drills and eager to learn during the other coach’s drills.
Then, a few days later, Shooting Touch hosted its annual International Women’s Day event. The day began with a 5K march from a women’s center to our courts in Nyamirama. I know what you’re probably thinking, but I actually did complete the 5K. No, I didn’t run it, but I made it to the finish line and that’s all that matters in my book. Once everyone reached the court, our 3-on-3 basketball tournament began. Four different age groups from each of our four villages in the Kayonza district competed. I was in charge of scheduling all of the games, staff, and time slots, so I wanted everything to go perfectly according to our schedule. But as I am quickly learning here, nothing ever goes exactly as planned. That was a hard thing for me to accept at first, but coming to terms with that has made my life here less stressful and more enjoyable. Because even if a game starts five minutes later than it's supposed to, or a speaker takes a little longer to deliver their message, the day still ends up being a success. People have fun connecting with each other, kids and adults leave everything they have on the courts, and any remaining barriers between me and the community members here in Rwanda are knocked down.
March was only 31 days, but I wouldn’t change anything that happened on any one of those days, even if I could. I learned more about the country I am living in, the people around me, and about myself. It turns out I am allowed to feel homesick and sad sometimes. I don’t have to pretend like every single day is perfect, because that would be unrealistic. I know now that even on the hardest of days, when all I want to do is lay in bed with my dog, the rain will pass and the sun will come back. I just have to be patient and make it through the storm.