11 January 2006

Before I get started with today’s post, I need to provide two corrections.

The first is one that I should have corrected long ago but only recently found out I was wrong. The second is something I just learned.

First, umuzungu is not technically correct. The noun is muzungu, and adding the “u” to it is like adding “a” in English. So instead of just meaning whitey, umuzungu means an indefinite whitey.

Second, bundu is not a Kinyarwanda word. It’s a word used throughout sub-Saharan African. In fact, Shyaka tells me, bundu does not even get a squiggly line underneath it when using the South African edition of Microsoft Word. Who knew there was a South African edition?

Anyway, on to the latest happenings in my life here in Kigali.

I’ve discovered that my career is actually rather ghoulish. In fact, I wrote that in my notebook yesterday. I’m supposed to peer in at the trials, tribulations and triumphs of complete strangers’ lives (actually, mostly the trials and tribulations). At least it’s better than having a real job.

This thought came to me while I was in a health center covering a cholera outbreak yesterday. It’s on the outskirts of Kigali and has killed around 20 people since just before the New Year. I wrote a story about it for Catholic News Service yesterday, so hopefully I’ll have a link for you soon. (Update: Just after I wrote that the story appeared. Here’s the link: http://www.catholicnews.com/data/stories/cns/0600156.htm.)

While I was there, I saw a boy who couldn’t have been older than 8 sitting around in his hospital scrubs, just looking confused, lonely and lost. He was in the tent for people who just needed some extra fluids, but weren’t terribly sick. A couple of Rwandan guys came by and shoved cameras in his face. I wasn’t sure if they were journalists. All I knew was they were heartless. But I also knew it was a great shot and had to resist picking up my camera. That’s when I realized my profession, which I really like, is rather ghoulish.

I came to another realization yesterday as I drove to the cholera outbreak with the director of hospitals for Caritas-Kigali. My life is all about controlled stupidity. Here’s what I mean. The stupidity is driving to a cholera outbreak to see people getting sick (which I did, all over the dirt path). The controlled part is that I went with a doctor and did what he did so I didn’t come out violently ill myself.

I have to do stupid things for my job. But in order to do it well and not take stupid risks, I have to do it in a controlled way.

I’m sure that’s comforting to everyone.