a routine

This week has been a good time of transition. I spent the first two weeks getting oriented, but now my routine has begun. On Saturday I moved in with my host family, Emmanuel and Nadine. They are siblings and we share a three-bedroom house in the neighborhood called Knindo in Bujumbura.

One thing that I have been getting used to is a late dinner. We eat dinner at 8 or 9pm every evening. I was told that this is the Burundian way of doing dinner. We usually have rice, cooked bananas (sort of like plantains) or potatoes, peas, and gravy. Sometimes we have beans as well, but the first time we did Emmanuel asked me if I requested them from the cook because he doesn’t like them. He said he grew up eating them. Beans are a cheaper form of food, so many eat them, but those who can afford it eat rice.

Yes, we have a cook. His name is Vienne and he also does some other random chores. At first it felt strange having a cook, but I think it makes since in this context. At home we have microwaves, ovens, helpful cooking appliances, as well as other conveniences such as a washer and dryer, but at this house Vienne cooks outside with charcoal stove. If he were not here Nadine or Emmanuel would not be able to work a full day because lunch and dinner would need to be prepared and this is a time consuming task. I believe it is common for middle class Burundians to have some sort of hired help, but I will see as I get to know more people.

On Monday I began working at the radio station. At this time, I will be primarily working in the recording studio. It is still in the set up process, and this last week we have been trying to work out some things so that we can become fully functional. It would be simple if we could just hop on down to the guitar center and pick up a few things, but we don’t have that luxury.

I realized this week how convenient it is living in the US. We only have to travel 10 min and we can have anything we want: electronics, supermarkets, books, and fast food.

Also, last Monday I began French lessons, and I will continue them every weekday for the month of September. My teacher, Amos, is a patient and caring individual, and I feel that the lessons are productive. One problem I am having with learning French is that everyone here also speaks Kirundi. Burundians among themselves prefer to speak Kirundi, so when I am in a room full of Burundians I hear Kirundi. When I am one on one with a Burundian they will use English because they know that is what I am comfortable with, even if they only know a little.

This is the station.
The recording studio is the window on the left