Thoughts Pt. 3

God and the Genocide (The worst of man and the best of God)

Being in Rwanda, it was hard not to notice their intensely different take on religion and God. In Canada, devout Christians seeking to express their faith in some way might hang a rosary around their rear-view mirror or slap a Jesus-fish decal on their trunk. In Rwanda however even the biggest Jesus-fish would be too small of a statement. Instead, nearly every mini-bus, car, moto/ bike-taxi has large decals plastered on it front and back expressing their love for Jesus or God. Three by one foot decals shout: "Jesus is my friend", "I love God", "God bless you" (in one of their three spoken languages). Their shameless zeal can also be seen nearly every morning of the week when many business gather early to sing and pray before starting the day or on the Weekends when many attend church and nearly all available businesses, buildings or shelters become a place of worship. Some might say it is easy for them to be so open and expressive about their faith in such an overwhelmingly Christian nation, but in seeing the earnestness of their faith in real life it's easy to see their faith plays out much differently than the majority of Westerners. JoAnna and I saw many with faith that could move mountains or at least a small hill. The only possible explanation I can come up with for this is that they have no choice but to rely on God to provide. In North America, we have pension funds, RRSP's, 401k's and hefty savings accounts to fall back onto should life every take a turn for the worst. Nearly all of us have never had to consider the possibility of going without food for a day or two because we couldn't afford it. In Africa, many have no choice but to remain faithfully reliant on God to provide them with a means to eat or clothe their children and no doubt many have seen God come through in a big way in their lives. Not, only is their faith and zeal impressive but it is doubly so considering their past. How does a nation remain so faithful in light of what they experienced? After many saw lifelong church-goers turn on their fellow congregants or a pastor or priest gleefully opening the doors of their church to a militia so that they can slaughter the hundreds of asylum-seekers inside? How can one exclaim God is great after their entire family was murdered before their eyes? The answer that I received time and time again was shocking. Many summed it up shortly in saying that the genocide was the worst possible acts of man (all men, men of faith included) and the mostly successful reconciliation that has taken place since they say is only due to God's grace and goodness. This shocked me because the reaction would have been much different (probably the inverse) in North America. I can only help but think that the reaction in North America would have blamed God or the church for the genocide and what happened and saw the reconciliation as the work of man's greatness. After all was said and done I thought it absurd that North America or elsewhere would send missionaries to Africa, instead they should be coming here.

Now for something completely different!
JoAnna and I are now back safe and sound in Canada where we will spend the next couple of days visiting friends and family in High River, Lethbridge and Red Deer before moving to Edmonton to continue our studies in September. This blog will be the last of the Thoughts series and another couple of blog entries will come before we shut things down.

We hope to see many of you soon and wish you well,

Alex and Jo

The Cit-ay of Luv

Sorry for the long wait between posts, but we’ve been busy as of late enjoying our time here in Europe. Last Thursday, JoAnna and I left Rwanda to start our journey back home. Because flying from Africa to North America (or vice versa) necessitates a stop through Europe, we thought we would take the occasion to enjoy ourselves in Europe for a couple of weeks before heading back home. My parents also decided to take the opportunity to fly to Europe and join us for those two weeks to celebrate their 30^th Anniversary. So here we are one week in, relaxing in our Parisian apartment after our first full day touring Paris. Just to give you a little run-down on the things we’ve experienced since our departure Thursday night. Our flight arrived in Brussels, Belgium at 6:10am Friday morning and we were greeted at the airport by my parents and their rental car. After a quick morning visit of downtown Brussels and some Belgian waffles, we hopped in the car and headed off to Brugges, Belgium. Brugges is a beautiful town with plenty of history and lies in Northern Belgium, not far from the Dutch border. A UNESCO world heritage site, there was plenty to be seen as many of the buildings date back to the 1500’s or earlier. After three days of taking in some beautiful museums, a brewery tour and even the final performance of an international music festival, we began our scenic three-day voyage to Paris. During our scenic trip we were able to take in several historic Canadian war monuments and museums such as the Flanders Fields museum in Ypres, Beligum and the site of the Canadian D-day landing in Dieppe, France. Upon arriving in Paris Wednesday afternoon we found our apartment, returned the rental car and settled in to our cozy 6^th floor Parisian apartment where we will spend the next 6 days. To conclude the blogging of our trip we will in the upcoming days (whether from Paris or home) post the conclusion to the Thoughts series as well as the link to our Photobucket account and an additional blog including some of our impressions of Europe in light what we saw on our trip and a top 10 list of things we didn’t expect to experience in Africa but did. We look forward to seeing all of you soon and sharing some of our additional thoughts and experiences of our trip with you after we get back. In the meantime we will spend our days trying our best to enjoy the many sights and tastes of Paris.

Love you all,

Alex and Jo

Thoughts Pt. 2

After another long restless night I give you Thoughts pt. 2. If you missed out Thoughts Pt. 1 make sure you take the time to look over it before continuing below. As always, if you loved it or hated it, let us know. A quick disclaimer: while reading the Thoughts series, please keep in mind that these are late night, sarcasm latent, unapologetic rants. Also, keep in mind that these commentaries mostly seek to comment on the negative aspects of the human condition and how they play themselves out in the form of greed, avarice (materialism), pride/comparison and all-around laziness in North American culture and that by pointing them out, I am in no way saying that I am above or beyond them, in fact I probably struggle and fall victim to them just as much or more than you do.

Stewardship (If only I had more money)
Stewardship. When the word comes to mind, it is usually in the sense of being a good steward, taking care of the responsibility given to you. In Christianity, the word stewardship is usually used in reference to being responsible for the things given to you from God. In Genesis, after God created Adam, He gave Adam responsibility to watch over beast and earth alike and to be a good steward of both, i.e. responsibility to use them responsibly (a responsibility that modern Christians often shirk for a variety of reasons). The word stewardship also applies to one’s money (how and where we spend it and how and where we give it away). We would all like to think that we are responsible people, mature and good things of the like, but the reality (regardless of age) is usually a lot less. Upon accompanying my African friends to the market place, I’ve been convinced that we (in North America) probably all fall short of being called stewards (let alone good stewards). The scruple and care that Africans take while buying and caring for their possessions is nothing short of anal. I mean sure we all fondle, fiddle and handle the apples before picking 5 or so, but what I’ve seen here is a whole new level of scrupulous. Whether it be beans, fruit, shoes or strainers, nothing is small potatoes (pardon the pun). An example, my friend spent a good 5 minutes examining every strainer available to make sure it was the best possible one before buying it. If he was going to spend his hard earned money he wanted something that was going to last. 5 minutes! Five minutes (that seemed like an eternity to me) to decide which dollar-store-quality strainer he was going to buy! My same friend takes that kind of time to pick out everything… no matter big or small, expensive or cheap. And when he goes to the market, he knows exactly what he’s going to buy because he’s already thought about it long and hard. In those insufferably long 5 minutes (insufferable because my Pavolovian-conditioned attention span is the size of a gnat’s see joy), I had time to consider my course of action had it been my money and decision to make: I would have bought the first strainer my eyes laid sight upon (regardless of quality or relative price +/- a dollar or two) and had I gotten the strainer home and it broke within a week, I would have probably returned to the same store and spent another $2.50 on a new strainer hoping that the machine or Chinese kid who put it together did a better job this time around. I would have treated that strainer like I treat most of my possessions, as disposable and replaceable. Yeah, I can easily buy a new strainer, I have the money, but that’s hardly being responsible with what has been entrusted to me. The worst part about my typical North American mindset is that when that neighborhood kid comes to the door looking for money for a school in Africa or to feed the hungry, I’ll turn him away because I don’t have enough money for his charity or I only support a select few others and I’ll probably think a thought like “if only I had more money I would be more inclined to help you out, sorry”. What if instead, we treated everything we have as if it wasn’t so easily replaceable? What if we stopped and thought about the quality of what we were buying and if we really needed it or not? I’m sure we probably wouldn’t have that closet or crawlspace full of boxed up crap. Cups and dishes, books and irons packaged away, collecting dust. Fact is, if you stop and think about the excess that you live in and then consider that people around the world (or just around the block) are struggling to save up enough money to buy that same very crap that you have sitting in our basement, it’s enough to make one sick (or at least minutely depressed). If being a steward means being responsible, it probably looks a lot different than dusty boxes of crap. It probably looks more like, garage sales, the Salvation Army Thrift Store and giving things away to that needy family a couple of blocks over. And mostly it probably looks a lot like responsible spending.

P.S. JoAnna and I are spending our last weekend here in Kigali relaxing and spending time with our friends. One thing we neglected to mention in our last blog was that we bum-rushed the gates of a concert with about two thousand other people. Yeah! We were waiting in line to get into a big pan-african dance/music festival and the crowd starting pushing against the gates. The police and military police could do nothing as a wave of about 4-5 hundred Africans (and four muzungus) found their way through before they were able to close them again. My one concern at the time was squeeze your toes tight and hold on to those flip-flops! We did. All is well and we will be leaving Rwanda this next Thursday.

Love,

Alex and Jo

Another thought on Rwanda: Just think of the children

Alex and I came to the same conclusion that children are the same, no matter where you go.

They will always find something to make into a game, something that will invoke easy giggles and playful glee. They will always be mischievous, reaching for the forbidden extra cookie or “bon bon” when they think they can get away with it. And like my mom once wrote to me, will always react to the universal language of laughter, running and play, even when that is the only language at hand to be shared. For me, this is one of the most reassuring and one of the most depressing aspects of coming to this country. Reassuring because this shows that, despite the horrific history of genocide, the children truly embody a new generation of humanity and innocence, vital factors that echo on in national reparation. Depressing because at the same time that innocence is so fragile, and humanity so easily manipulated. The children we worked with this week were so reminiscent of the children at any type of day-camp back home. You had that token young little boy, seven years old, who had more energy then the rest of them who immediately blacklisted himself as the “trouble maker”. You had the group of older girls, around 9 and 10, who glued themselves to the female leaders under various forms of adoration. You had the young girl who you noticed later was the outcast of her peer group. You had the older “cool boys” who were surprisingly mature and kind. There were young leaders, artists, athletes (mostly soccer stars! ask Alex…), singers, fighters, and those who were just content to sit on your lap all day.

In my amature opinion, this country the children are in is like a phoenix being reborn from the ashes, although the rebirth is proving to be far from easy. It is going through its growing pains where I discovered that people declare there is no such thing as Hutu and Tutsi, only “Rwandan”, all while there are still whispers of patriotism towards those past so called ethnic groups. While this country appears to be the most stable of all Africa, there are still wisps of mistrust in the air.

Which, considering what happened 14 years ago, makes logical sense.

All around as you travel throughout Rwanda you see the same professional framed portrait of President Paul Kagame, signifying the new age of this country, while all throughout the same country you see men in pink and orange, stark reminders of a not so distant dark past. Digging ditches, planting grass blade by blade (there are no sod farms around here), building new homes for those in poverty and cleaning the streets, these are the Rwandan inmates, most arrested for various acts of terror during the genocide. You can’t easily escape a past where murderers once consisted of almost half the entire country’s adult population… Apparently the government was once criticized for taking advantage of their inmates, by using them as free laborers, but the government’s response was by saying “it was by the hands of these men that this country has fallen, and it will be by the help of their hands that it will be rebuilt”.

Touché.

That makes logical sense too. Despite the whispers, this country appears to be on a positive track.

Then we happened upon a Belgian man, one of the past historical colonizers of this country (and as such we were told not to respect much of what he had to say), and he told me things that the rational mind still had to consider. Take for example, the genocide inmates themselves. Their time in the prison is dictated by a trial known as “gacaca” (pronounced ga-cha-cha) during which they give testimony to all their genocidal crimes and are judged accordingly. The men are supposed to be kept separate post trial so they are not given a chance to plan any false stories together, thus making their testimonies genuine. When I talked with the Belgian man he told me a broken story about how one of his coworkers who had been a refugee of the genocide was recently arrested and sent to prison because one of the prisoners had a grudge on his family and falsely accused him of various atrocities during his turn at the gacaca. The man is still currently incarcerated under these untrue pretenses. The Belgian man also said that in all three years of his stay in Rwanda, the speech that the President gave during the victory day celebration [commemorating the end of the genocide] has changed. At first the speech honored the massacred Tutsi and moderate Hutus, which is indeed politically correct, but has evolved today into a speech solely honoring the Tutsi from the Hutu predators. The man told us that he fears that the government has some sort of hero complex, taking the honor and glory they achieved freeing this country and using it to stay in parliamentary power. Even the upcoming elections he said are not entirely democratic, because each of the running parties came from the original RPF (Rwandan Patriotic Front) Party, the same as the current government.

This could be absolute hearsay.

This is after all, coming from a Belgian.

But it still makes one ponder. Paul Kagame has done some amazing things for this country, making it a true modern day spectacle. The country is still after all going through its growing pains. And let’s face it, no place, no justice system, is perfect, right?

Now again I think about the children, caught up and born into this modern day intrigue of identity reform. I think about the smiling faces at day-camp, and about how the children are so quick to draw their new Rwandan flag on any available piece of paper, and colour everything from the flag to zebras and giraffes in their national Rwandan colours of blue, yellow and green. We sang their national anthem every morning of day-camp, it was long and intricate, and they knew every word of it. And we have adult volunteers from Canada with us who don’t know how to sing O’ Canada. What is to happen to these children in the next coming years? What is to happen in this country? I think of the prospects for children back home… of course not every child back home has it perfect there. For example issues that rise out of things such as divorce, neglect and low incomes could easily make the lives of Canadian and Rwandan children equally comparable in terms of the quality of childhood life. Yet the government’s invisible hand isn’t something that can be so easily ignored. Canadian children, while not always given the most privileged home lives, still live in a politically stable country. There is no overhanging history of mass death and complete evil, no potential to inherit fears of what your countrymen are capable of or what your relatives have done or endured. No knowledge that your widowed mother is ill a lot of the time because she was raped purposely by a man who had AIDS and now she was infected. No knowledge that your widowed mother’s friend had scars on back because she was attacked with a knives while defending her family and had to play dead for days, only to wake later find her family dead around her. No knowledge on what it would have been like to have a father, or brothers and sisters, because they were brutally slaughtered with machetes. No knowledge of what it would be like growing up an orphan because your parents were killers and disappeared after the war.

I don’t know what’s up next for this generation. But I have grown to love them. Their smiling and laughing young faces will be forever be imbedded into my mind. Their unshed tears ingrained in my memory (the children here rarely cry, even after the most bloody gash is received during day-camp and then painfully cleaned with hydrogen peroxide). Pray for the children and orphans of Rwanda! Pray for the widows who bare scars both physically and mentally. And pray for a country trying to be reborn and find its identity in today’s world. For all intents and purposes, the country seems like it’s on the right track, pray with me that it does not get de-railed and that these children can grow up with endless opportunity and peace on the horizon.

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In the meantime this week marks our last FULL week in Rwanda, and Alex and I are still loving every moment of it. Again, thanks for the e-mails and comments! We love you guys and can't wait to see you and share these experiences in person.

Thoughts Pt. 1

In reviewing our chronicles from Rwanda, I realize that with our trip winding down we have yet to include much on our perceptions and impressions of this country and its beautiful people. So late last night (at 2am) when I couldn’t get to sleep I decided I would try and put some of those impressions down on ‘paper’ for you, I succeeded in only covering two. During our upcoming week of holidays (the center is closed for the next week) I will try and cover some of the topics which have touched us the most including joy, hospitality, stewardship, God, the genocide and reconciliation. Hopefully you enjoy the perspective, although somewhat harsh and overly sarcastic these late night rants are simply that: rants. Let us know your thoughts and comments, good and bad.

Joy (Why are Africans so damned happy?)

A shot in the dark…

In North America material goods seem to fixate us, we seek to fulfill ourselves with that new thing (gadget, gizmo, girl/guy, job, business idea, etc.). The fast pace of North American life and the consumer culture that exists teaches us to search for that next new thing, that next fixation that will make us happy. But alas… this too shall pass. The luster fades and we are left wanting, looking for that next shiny new thing to give us joy, meaning and hold our ADHD, gnat-sized attention span for a couple more minutes until something ‘new’ comes along. In Africa, a threefold combination of a slower pace of life, a lack of consumer culture and a lack of disposable income to feed this consumer culture necessitates a alternate mind frame. Instead of retreating into our own world of computers, gadgets, gizmos, books or TV, people (real people, not virtual people) meet together in real life (not some video game called Sims that simulates real life, but actual real, physical life) and engage in something called relationship. In relationship, people talk about life, the weather, sports, religion, the world, everything and anything. Relationships give Africans meaning and joy because people are the only thing that is present in abundance here. In Africa, meals spent together with the family are a given since most don’t have enough money to eat elsewhere and most only eat one meal a day. Elders are respected for their past contributions and knowledge and Grandparents live out their years as loved members of the family, minimum security old-folk prisons don’t exist here yet (but they are coming soon to an African city near you). In short, the warm smiles (not the forced kind that you make when you meet people for the first time because mom always told you to be polite and smile) we see here in Africa are because people are the most valuable resource and the most exciting new thing is a new friend or a new story from an old one.

Hospitality (I guess they don’t like money here!)

One thing that has blown us away here in Rwanda is the hospitality of Rwandans. For Rwandans, hospitality is an honor (not a chore). Friends visit each other without warning and sometimes without even knocking and someone you’ve only met once for 2 minutes will invite you to come visit them at their home, full well expecting you to come and visit them (not just extending an invitation as formality or pleasantry). A woman whose name I didn’t know and whose face I didn’t recognize invited me and Felix (another volunteer) over to her house as we were walking down the street to a friend’s house. Since we were already on our way to visit our friend we politely asked to take a raincheck (hoping she would drop the subject) as we began to part ways. She pressed us for a date and time and practically dragged us another 3 blocks to ensure that we knew where her house was so we could come visit. She really wanted to be our host. Two days later when we went to visit her at her home, we sat in her living room with her teenaged sons as she quickly ran to a nearby store to spend a day’s earnings on Fantas and Cokes for her sons and guests. When her son’s friend showed up unannounced she forwent her own and gave her Fanta to him instead. After an hour and a couple laughs, our visit was through and she prayed a heartfelt prayer. She thanked God for her guests’ (what a privilege!) and prayed for our safety and then on our way out the door, insisted that we return again sometime with our significant others (maybe she doesn’t like money?!?). This type of behavior seems odd, even ridiculous, to me and probably most of you, but here it’s typical. A lot of this probably has to do with the importance of people and relationship see joy. The only possible explanation I can come up with is that they value relationship and people so much that hosting is an honor because the guests are in turn saying “you matter to me, you are important” simply by taking the time to visit. This flies in the face of our North American attitudes of hosting and family visits being a mostly unpleasant occasion reserved for holidays or other select special occasions. I mean most of us like to see family and friends, just not that much, we can wait until that wedding in October or maybe Christmas. And hosting… it defiantly falls short of being an honor.

P.S. On a lighter note: JoAnna and I are doing well and will spend the next couple of days unwinding from day camp here in Kigali. On Tuesday we plan to go to Gisenyi (a beach/resort town) for a couple days and then will return to Kigali to spend our last weekend in Africa here.

We wish you well and love you all,

Alex and JoAnna

Whose idea was it to see the monkey’s anyway?

Actually, we all thought it was a good idea at first. Seeing as this past weekend was the last weekend myself, Alex, and volunteers Marie-Eve and Felix (from Quebec) had to spend together. And we had it planned great from the start! Wake up early Saturday morning so we can catch a bus that would take us from the village to Kigali so we could catch another bus that left from Kigali to Cyangugu (the place from which we’d leave to see the chimps, a 7 hour drive) at 8:00 am. From there things were to just, well, fall into place!

Unfortunately things did not quite work out that way.

While we did make it to the bus stop in Kigali by 7:45, we missed the early bus and had to book tickets for the next one that left at 12:30. We burned four hours walking around the city and then stuffed ourselves at the back of a very snug bus. So snug in fact that you couldn’t move even if you wanted to vomit profusely. Which is something I needed to do (and did…) a good 3 hours into the trip. And there were still 3 hours to go! God knows that was one of the longest 3 hours of my life… The roads were windier than an over excited snake doing the wave and the colossal ruts in the road made one wonder whether it just suffered an attack from a passing meteor shower. Such conditions made it difficult for one who suffered motion sickness to keep smiling, that is for sure! And poor Alex. It was a long 3 hours for him too (having to deal with me that is)…

That night, when we finally made it to Cyangugu we easily found our hotel (Hotel Du Lac) then uneasily remembered that we didn’t know how we were going to go from the city to the national park, Nyungwe, a 1.5 hour drive away. We happened upon a Belgian man in the restaurant at the hotel and he kindly offered to drive us to the park at 9 am the next morning. Too late to see the chimps (as we would need to be at the park by 5am) but in time to see other primates (like the famous Rwandan Colobus monkeys). So we took the man up on his offer, and set out the next morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed (a hot shower in the morning can put anyone in a good mood, especially if it’s the first warm shower in over two weeks)! At the park we were greeted with the spectacular view of the Nyungwe Rainforest. The smell was humid and comforting as the decaying leaves of the forest floor melded in with the many flowers and leaves from the towering trees and luscious ferns. The sounds of buzzing insects and chirping birds were sporadically interrupted by monkey howls and we eagerly anticipated to get a glimpse of the monkey’s ourselves. We hired a guide who took us deep into the forest (on trail and off) and gradually met up with a tracker who led us to the Colobus monkeys. Roughly the length of your arm (their tail being the length of your other arm) the monkeys are completely black save for a white “mane” around their faces and a white tipped tail. Their babies are born completely white, and we saw some mamas holding their babies as well. Usually this group of Colobus monkeys travel in a family of around 400 but we met with much fewer. Our guide explained that earlier that morning the chimps attacked (the Colobus monkey’s number one predator) and as a survival tactic the monkeys scatter. We saw the scattered Colobus monkeys! And they were amazing! Unfortunately, the camera we brought with us says that it has a zoom function, but at this point we know better. It doesn’t zoom. This is definitely the one regret we have about this trip. Note to everyone out there planning on taking a trip to somewhere exotic: take with you a GOOD camera! (with lots of spare batteries, we didn’t bring those either. My bad. Seriously.) So believe us when we say we saw the monkeys! Because we definitely didn’t get any clear shots of them.

So the hike in Nyungwe was wonderful, we saw beautiful scenery and a lot of monkeys. And then it was time to get back to base, and oh yeah, figure out how we were going to get back to Kigali… Later Alex confided to me that he was praying the entire hike back to the base that we would find transport back to Kigali, and that he didn’t see much of the forest on the return trip. What a guy. After some intense moments we randomly met up with a group of medical exchange students (from all sorts of places like Canada, Norway, Denmark…) and they kindly allowed us to squeeze into the bus that they rented, as the bus’ final destination was Kigali, even though the student’s themselves weren’t going there. God is good! While the ride from the park to Kigali theoretically takes four hours in actuality it was over five. I suppose it makes sense that the bus driver would want to stop at every single available spot to fill up a bus emptied by medical students, and stop at every small town and village between the park and Kigali… But it made for us another exhausting trip. But fortunately for me, there was no motion sickness…

We originally wanted to plan a weekend that was relaxing, set with a hotel and a beach, since the previous week was exhausting with day camp (which Alex informed you about last week) but then somebody suggested seeing the monkeys…

But in the end I’m so glad we went. I mean, we went to a rainforest! Something my childhood dreams were made out of. But seeing as we’re still needing some R and R, Alex and I don’t think we’re going to go to Tanzania next weekend now because we know for a fact that travel across the border is going to be a gong show… And we want a relaxing weekend at a hotel with a beach… Because this week is going to be another exhausting (but rewarding, don’t get me wrong!) week with day camp.

By the way, I think it was Felix’s idea to see the monkeys…

Day Camp

So this week marked the beginning of day camp. The organization that runs the center also funds a school near the village where many of the mothers of the center send their children. Currently however it is summer holidays and the kids are out of school for the next couple of weeks while their mother's (many single mom's widowed by the genocide) continue to work at the center. So, JoAnna and I, along with a young Quebecois couple are planning and running a day camp for the 100+ children. Tuesday was our first day and thankful there is no camp on friday because as you can imagine the math is pretty simple: 100 kids + 4 leaders = mass chaos. Thankfully, the Quebecois couple came somewhat prepared to run a day camp and brought with them some supplies, but even still those supplies run short quickly. With a mix of sports, games, crafts, art and music we manage to keep the children entertained for the majority of the time and they have been having a lot of fun. Thankfully, for my sanity, I only help during the afternoons because I am still giving english lessons during the mornings and running other errands as a chauffeur (as driving licenses are hard to come across in this country). The english lessons have been great and the women are eager to learn and are learning quickly. JoAnna however has been facing the insanity head-on morning and afternoon. This weekend we will travel to a popular beach and relax with some other volunteers and then return to continue the camp for one more week. Hopefully the camp will culminate in a fiesta for the kids complete with Piniata and a potluck supper to follow for their families. While we are only half through our time here, we can already sense that our stay will have been too short, with us leaving good friends and many opportunities behind. Thanks again for those who have been leaving comments along the way, they are very much apprecuiated, it's always good to know family and friends are doing well.

We love you all, take care and God bless,

Alex and Jo