Rwandans walk everywhere (marche beaucoup! as my host mom would say). Knowing me, that was a bonus and is good (NeeByeezah! = its good), but also knowing me the risk would be super high for me to twist my left ankle a lot. So far so good, it is only slightly tender. Yesterday, we spent time in the morning trying out different classes (observing) at UCC as Zachary had recommended. We would hold another meeting this coming Monday to work out our schedules for the rest of our time there. Turns out we weren’t the only OoMoonZooGoo (term for white person or person not from Africa) volunteering at the centre. There were two girls from Germany who had stayed there for 9 months now: Johanna and Gaby and also two girls from France who had just arrived a week before us named Lidi and Cecile. The rest of the volunteers are local Rwandans who give their time to be with the disabled and mentally challenged kids and adults who benefit from the centre from its many progressive programs to teach them to be independent or gain skills that could be useful. I decided to spend the day in the skills classroom with a mixture of all types of disabilities and teachers. The room is the biggest in the centre and is open-concept to allow for different stations for different crafts. At the entrance is a cluster of sewing machines and on the right are knitting machines for the blind as well as a table where stuffed elephants were sewed from fabrics. Further in are tables for placemats, pictures, picture frames and woven panels made from banana leaves and adjacent is an area for making paper beads. It was at the banana leaves station that I planted myself; introducing myself with my limited Kinyarwandan (hello, how are you, I’m fine, My name is and I don’t understand). As I couldn’t communicate more I just ended up smiling and sitting with them, trying to point at one of the finished products saying I wanted to try. Isisa finally ended up starting one as he pointed for me to observe him while talking loudly to Benjamin who kept laughing at my lack of Kinyarwandan knowledge, saying that I could say Muraho (hello) and then fini (thats it). In my mind I started becoming curious as he only repeated this news over and over, smiling at my apparent lack of knowledge of their language. Isisa was more forgiving and kind as he let me take over the weaving of the leaves to make a sort of placemat or woven circular fan (not too sure what they are used for). I believed that I could pick it up quick and I was being affirmed many times that I was on the right track by Isisa who finally addressed Benjamin that I was doing really good, whereby Benjamin smiled at me and just went to work without another word about my terrible Kinyarwandan; turning from a skeptical outburst into a content smirk at my success. At least that is what I interpreted from a mixture of knowledge, intuition and reading of faces and tones. I also was extremely alert knowing that I could prove him wrong; that I could do something well right now and weave these leaves together. I remember finishing almost all the way and feeling so accomplished. It was a good morning of crafts, focus and the amazing smell of banana leaves inches from my nose.