Brown Eyes Blue

Well, we are here! 

I am not sure quite what I expected but this is not it.

Rwanda is rich, Rwanda is poor. We have seen whole developments of amazing houses that would fit right in in the toniest American suburb.  And we have seen women carrying enormous burlap sacks full of leaves on their head and a baby on their back.  There must be an upper class that has money and lives in those houses, but the workers on our job site make about a dollar fifty a day, some with no shoes.

Our hotel, the Serena, is as nice as any hotel I have ever stayed in.  Service impeccable and a steady stream of suited business men in and out.  Last night someone had what sounded just like an American wedding reception at the pool in the center courtyard. Complete with a standard wedding band that played a pitch imperfect version of Don't It Make My Brown Eyes Blue.

Which seemed like an apt metaphor for this brown eyed country with the dark past that is so hurriedly trying to Americanize.  I hope they like it when their eyes turn blue.