February 15, 2009 at 11:55 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
One of the more peculiar things about Rwanda (and East Africa as a whole), is how picky they can be when it comes to American dollar bills. It used to be that the dollar was king, but now it’s more like only the $100 dollar-bill-printed-in-the-year-2003-or-after is king. While $20 is $20 is $20 and a benjamin’s a benjamin wherever you go in the US, you’re lucking if you can get 90% on the dollar for small bills and pre-2003 notes around here. In fact, most of the time they simply won’t take them. And we’re not just talking about the banks and the proper establishments. A couple weeks ago we completed an exchange with some random guys on the street, who 2 minutes later returned demanding his money back. Our 1998 bill just didn’t cut it for him. I mean, who do they think they are with this your-dollars-aren’t-good-enough-for-me crap?
So on my last trip to the normal world (where $100 is a $100), I made sure to get a stack of only post 2003 bills to take back with me (did I mention there are no ATMs here?). As my two uncles who I discharged with this task recounted to me, it was perhaps the most unusual request the Israeli bank teller they convinced to fulfill it has ever encountered.
So I while I’ve got a healthy supply of acceptable bills, those captured by Somali pirates don’t seem to always be as lucky. You see, as it turns out, your ransom is also subject to this pesky not-all-dollars-are-created-equal craziness. Recounts one former captive:
“They sometimes say they want $208,000 exactly in $100 bills only,” he says.
“I don’t know why they make those demands. They usually also don’t like dollar bills that were printed in 2000 or the years before. If it was printed in 1999, they say: ‘This is not fit to be used in our shop’,” he adds.
Welcome to the world of the modern pirate. Isn’t it wacky? [Want to know more about modern pirate negotiation? See here.]
Meanwhile what I find most bizarre is the stack of bills ($20, $10, pre-2003 100s) that I have collecting dust until I return to the States, where both people and dollars are created equal.
February 4, 2009 at 11:49 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Yesterday, I used to the word “muzungo” in a post. That’s what they call all us white folks around here. It would presumably mean “white people”, but someone named Morgan C. dug a little deeper and found out a much more interesting etymology:
The Rwandans didn’t always call white people abazungu. Back when the Germans were the colonizers, they were called German. The French were the French. Et cetera.
But after World War I, when the Belgians came to take over the territory from the Germans, they were called Abazungu, not Belgians.
…Because the verb that Muzungu and Abazungu come from is “kuzungura,” which means “to replace, to take over.”
So, it would seem Muzungu means replacers/ take over-ers. And so now it gets even more interesting. Morgan, again:
As a quick side note, the Kinyarwanda word for muzungu comes from the Swahili “mzungu.” Back in the days of Jomo Kenyatta, Kenya’s first president, there was a rebel movement called the “Mau Mau,” which was actually an acronym:
Mzungu Aende Ulaya
Mweusi Apate Uluru
Which means: “Conquerors return to Europe, black men recover independence.”
So they’re not yelling “White people! White people!” every time we pass on the road or the street. They’re yelling “Conquerors! Conquerors!” I’m not sure which is worse, but if this is how the Rwandese treat they’re “conquerors” — jumping up and down, laughing, and smiling — then I can only imagine what they do for their liberators.
February 3, 2009 at 10:28 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Last week, as I rode from the village to the nearby town to catch the last bus to Kigali on Friday night we passed many, many children who were excited to see “muzingos” on motos passing through their small village.
They called out to me “Good morning! Good morning!” I thought to reply back, “Good evening!” (maybe they’d pick up the difference), but they still answered me again with “Good morning!” So “Good morning!” I repeated to myself with a laugh as the sun was setting.
Whoever’s been teaching them English must only come in the morning, I figured.
February 3, 2009 at 10:19 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
I have not written in a long time. I have no good excuses, but I do have a funny story and some photos from the last four months, so enjoy!
Story:
The other day, one of the volunteers, Tanya, was wearing her rain boots when one of the kids, a young boy, came up to her and said “I like your…how do you call them?…boobs.” The Rwandese can be real slick operators.
Please note that all postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily represent the positions, strategies, or opinions of the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee or the Agahozo Shalom Youth Village.
