Don't Forget Rwanda

If I have learned one thing in a month in Africa, it is that plans can change. Last night we spent our "last" night in Kigali, had a nice Indian dinner (Chicken Tikka Masala, yum!!) and tried to confirm
our flight to Addis Ababa this afternoon. Three phone numbers were either incorrect or not functioning. Doug finally reached someone in the cargo division of Ethiopian Airlines, who tried to help but didn't get anywhere.
This morning I attended to some final details (the resident's grades for the month) at the hospital and bid goodbye to my friends. Esperance, the public relations officer who looked after me so well, told me about her experience during the genocide of losing her husband and her son, and her parents. She showed me the scar on her Achilles tendon and said they fractured her skull. She is such a beautiful person, filled with love for God and quiet dignity. I prayed for her and she then prayed for me, in Kinyarwanda. It was a precious experience. I know we will see each other again.
The staff at Prison Fellowship had us to the office to say goodbye and to have lunch together before taking us to the airport. They presented us with an African shirt for Doug and a long dress for me. I think they must have been studying our body types, because the clothes fit perfectly. Christine, the wife of pastor Deo, doesn't speak much English, but managed to communicate with me. She called me "Mami" and said "I love you."
She and Guma took us to the airport, and we again said goodbye. After waiting a half hour, we were able to check in at the Ethiopian desk. All went well until they asked us if we had changed the date on our ticket. It seems that the flights we were booked into don't fly today, but tomorrow! A wonderful ticket agent took on our cause, and rebooked us for tomorrow. He directed us to a hotel with airport shuttle, and we are comfortably nesting in a room with free WiFi. This is a positive turn of events, since we didn't sleep well last night and only today got some stronger cough medicine for Doug to try to shake his virus.
Esperance gave me a package when I saw her this morning. It has two tee shirts, one for me and one for Doug, printed with a traditionally shaped basket, and the words "Don't Forget Rwanda." I know that I never will.