I woke up this Saturday tired, but in the best way — the kind of tired that comes from days already full of work, stories, and a lot of walking. For students in the sponsored program, Saturday still means school. They come with joy, not reluctance. Here they eat breakfast and lunch, they play games, they sing as they walk to their rooms, and they learn. That joy was in the air as we started the day.
Walking to the River
After a lovely breakfast — eggs, sausage, crepes, and fruit — we gathered for a hike to the place where the Nyabarongo and Akanyaru rivers merge to form the Akagera River. It is about an hour’s walk from campus. Naomi and I were joined by Josiane, Francois, and Marie Anne. As we left the gate and headed down the red dirt road, we moved from the familiar rhythms of campus into the quieter, slower rhythm of the surrounding countryside.
We passed through the village and along fields where farmers were already at work. The difference between this rural stretch and Kigali is stark. The red dirt road is not often traveled by vehicles. Every so often a motorcycle would pass, but mostly we saw people walking or riding bicycles. Men sat on porches drinking banana beer. Mamas carried babies on their backs. Lots of children watched us with curiosity. Only once did I hear “umuzungu” — foreigner — called out. Francois was a wonderful guide, telling us about the history of the area and the people who live there. We also talked about ATN; he said he has never visited but would like to. I encouraged him to go — their ministries and missions are so similar that it feels like they are working on different parts of the same story. He mentioned that three RCCS teachers have transitioned to work at ATN. The webs of connection here run deep.
Eventually we reached the place where the rivers meet. Locals were farming nearby, and many children were fetching water from the river to sell to construction workers building new structures. Some children had followed us from the road and gathered around. We took photos — many photos. Francois and Anne Marie took more than Naomi or I, capturing faces, landscape, and small details that might otherwise be forgotten.
Down by the river, children fetched water, farmers tilled the soil, and neighbors greeted one another — a quiet reminder that this community’s life is woven daily along the banks where the rivers meet.
After a while, Josiane stayed back with Naomi to teach her some traditional dances. She is a very good dance teacher — patient, joyful, precise. I walked with Francois and Anne Marie past a truck being loaded with sugar cane to a field where people were tilling the ground, preparing it for planting. We watched, talked, and filmed short clips, trying to honor what we were seeing without interrupting the work.
The walk back was steeper than it had felt on the way down. I climbed into the truck at the start of the journey back, planning to ride up the hill while the others walked. Within a hundred yards, the rest of the team joined me. The road is much steeper than you realize when you are walking downhill distracted by conversation. We drove back through the gate and returned to our rooms for a short break before the coffee experience.
Coffee Roasting and Tasting
I have done the coffee experience here before, but that time it was with a larger group. Today it was just Naomi and me, along with a few staff members. They showed us coffee beans at their different stages and then we began roasting. Leah, an RCCS staff member, had already started the fire and began roasting the beans in a pan over the heat. She invited us to take a turn.
I sat on the low stool first and began stirring the beans. After a few minutes, they started to turn various shades of brown, the smell shifting from raw to rich and familiar. I handed the pan to Naomi, who roasted them for a bit before giving them back to Leah. Once the beans were roasted to the right color, Leah poured them into a cooling pan — a shallow, woven platter — and began to toss them in the air to cool them. She did it so gracefully, without losing a single bean. It was obvious she had done this many times.
Then they asked if we wanted to try.
I said, “I can try,” with more hope than confidence. I picked up the platter with both hands and attempted the same gentle tossing motion. I quite literally spilled the beans on my very first try and quickly handed the platter to Naomi. She spilled some too, but she was determined to learn. Her second attempt went better, and by the third try she had found the rhythm. We handed the platter back to Leah, someone came with a broom to sweep up our mess, and then we moved on to grinding.
Naomi, Josiane, and I all took turns grinding the roasted beans by hand. When the coffee was decently ground, Leah stepped in to finish the job. We then sat down at a table with a freshly brewed pot of coffee. The cups were small, but the flavor was full. I added warm milk and sugar to mine and savored every sip. It was so good that I had two cups. We thanked the team for the experience and walked back to the guest dining room for lunch.
On the menu this afternoon was fried fish — crisp, flavorful, and perfectly prepared. I told John he had outdone himself and then proved it by eating far too much.
Afternoon with the Students
After lunch, we had about thirty minutes before joining the students for something on the schedule called “movements.” I assumed it would be physical exercise of some kind. I was wrong — and happily so. Movements turned out to be clubs. Londyn and Naomi joined different groups, and I went with the Girl Guides.
I had no idea what I was walking into.
We started with a brief introduction to the history and rules of Girl Guides, and then they asked me to introduce myself. I shared a bit about who I am and answered their questions. When no one had any more questions, they discussed what to do with the rest of the time. The overwhelming choice was singing.
The first song they sang was “Hallelujah” — the version popularized by Pentatonix, though of course the original is Leonard Cohen’s. Then they sang “Highs and Lows.” Their voices were beautiful. Then they began calling young women up to sing solos and duets. Each song felt like a gift — full, heartfelt, sometimes shy, sometimes bold.
As our time neared its end, one of the older students, clearly a leader, came over and asked if I had any talents to share. I had been wanting to sign “beautiful” during their performances, so I told her I would love to teach them a few words in American Sign Language. After two more students sang, they invited me to the front.
I taught them how to sign “beautiful,” “Your song was beautiful,” “please,” “thank you,” and “I love you.” They picked it up quickly, hands moving around the circle as they practiced. As the session ended, they formed a circle and asked me to take a group picture and then pray. After we prayed together, we dismissed. As Londyn and I walked back to our guest rooms, several of the girls were signing to each other along the path. It was a small thing, but it felt like one more thread of connection woven into the day.
As the girls walked back to their dorms, several of them were signing in ASL. It was a small thing, but it felt like one more thread of connection woven into the day.
Rain, Conversation Corner, and Evening Quiet
By late afternoon, the sky had darkened and we knew rain was coming, but it was also time for sports and activities. I walked around campus for a while, taking in the sounds and sights. Boys were learning to play traditional drums. The band was warming up in the courtyard. Girls were practicing traditional dances in the worship hall. Students were playing on the volleyball, basketball, and football fields. It felt like the whole campus was in motion.
I sat on a ledge to wait for the band to begin. At one point I walked into the courtyard to capture a few moments of the band playing and ran into Londyn, who was also there. After a few minutes, we walked together toward the playing fields. You could hear the rain before you could see it.
Then I looked to my left and saw what looked like a wall of water moving toward us. Moments later, the students shouted, “Run!” and we ran for cover under the nearest overhangs and into guesthouses. We waited out the thunderstorm, watching sheets of rain wash across the grounds, wondering what would happen with Conversation Corner.
Rwandan rain does not always arrive politely; sometimes it comes like a moving wall, chasing us across the fields and leaving the campus washed clean and humming with new life.
After several messages back and forth — and a knock on my door from Boneur, standing there with an umbrella — we learned that the location had been moved to the worship hall. We made our way there through the damp, cool air. Most, but not all, of my student group made it.
Tonight was more relaxed. We began with their questions. One of the very first was whether I had two computers. I said no, just one, and they looked confused. A young woman then asked what I was doing at night. Apparently they can see me on my porch at night through the fence, and because I often have only one of my two external screens open, it looks like two laptops side by side. I told them about the trip posts I’ve been writing, and they asked me to read the one from yesterday. So I did.
They asked a few more questions, and then we moved into a game. I offered Two Truths and a Lie or 20 Questions. After I explained both, they chose Two Truths and a Lie. I modeled again, sharing my two truths and one lie, but when it was their turn, the room went quiet. Participation was slow to come. Isaac, sitting next to me, volunteered and shared his. I hoped that would open the door for others, but they still hesitated. They told me it was hard to think of a lie, so we adjusted. Instead of the full game, we simply went around and shared two true things about ourselves.
When we finished, I asked if they had learned anything new about their classmates. They nodded and smiled. Sometimes the simpler version of an activity is exactly what is needed. We talked a bit more until we were told our time was up.
I headed back to my guesthouse for about an hour before dinner and sat on the porch writing notes until the next round of rain came. This shower was shorter and had passed by the time I walked to the dining room. The rain brought with it a mix of insects, a gecko, birds, and a small toad into the porch area — a tiny reminder of how alive everything is after a storm. The air felt cool, crisp, and clean as I walked.
We ended the day with another wonderful meal. John told us he would join us for dinner tomorrow night. Worship will be from 8:00 to 9:00 a.m. because it is the day when parents visit. Tonight, I am going to bed early. It has been an active, full day, and I am very thankful.