Last week, I was saddened to learn about a free Dave Matthews concert taking place in Denver. A few weeks earlier, it was a Don Diablo set at Echostage. This coming weekend, I will be missing out on a dear friend’s wedding that I am heartbroken that I can’t attend.
Today I learned how to cut cabbage. Except I thought I already knew how to cut cabbage. In fact, I’ve done it many times. But today I sat through an extensive lesson from my host mother and younger host sister, Fiona, as they detailed the finer points of the process, all the while enduring giggles from my other siblings at my apparent blunders.
“Buhoro, buhoro!” my host mother shouts as I hurry through the spotless dining room of my new home in Rwanda. I have half a piece of bread hanging from my mouth, my weighty backpack slung at an odd angle across one shoulder, my phone in one hand, and a cup of tea swaying in the other. To your average American, this might look like a fairly standard morning routine, but my host mother looks utterly confused and mildly concerned as she watches the hectic foreigner tear through the room. Continue reading “Learning to Slow Down”