Day 3 - "I Can. I Must. I Will." Rwandan Courage

“Today” we went to the Kigali Genocide Memorial, the biggest mass grave in Rwanda with over 250,000 victims buried there.  We first bypassed the building and went into a beautiful garden.  Walking under canopies surrounded by giant cement slabs and beautiful plants and flowers. Almost like a reminder of those who died while still honoring their life and creating new life around it.  We enter the memorial center and it starts the history of the Rwanda genocide.  Although the 100 days of killing in April 1994 is the “climax” of Rwanda’s genocide story, it’s scary to know that this genocide (and all others) was the result of a very intentional plan. The groups of Hutu and Tutsi didn’t even exist until the Belgians gave them those labels and ID cards based off of how many cows someone I find the trivial differences between the groups even more scary because it’s clear that for YEARS Rwandans were pretty much brainwashed against each other. From what I understand, during the colonial time, Tutsis were more of the upper class (more cows) minority, while the Hutus were the working class, but had a huge majority in the population.  After the Belgians left Rwanda, the Hutu had a\ lot of resentment for the Tutsi and once the Hutu president was assassinated (debatably by Hutu, Tutsi, or Belgians) the killing began immediately.  The history of what led up to the genocide is equally as important as remembering those who died because it is the only way we can prevent this from happening again. Genocide isn’t spontaneous. It’s calculated and planned out.  There were radio broadcasts and 10 Commandments for the Hutu establishing superiority and calling the Tutsi cockroaches.  It’s a gradual dehumanization that allowed neighbors to turn on each other and it will frighten me everyday to know that it could be happening anywhere without our knowledge.  We automatically assume nothing like this could happen in America, but the further our country gets divided and the more I hear politicians subtle hate speech against homosexuals and our inability to find compromise in almost any situation. Of course, I’m not saying that America is a time bomb for genocide, but in a more intense division in an unstable environment like Rwanda’s was it would be ignorant to say it couldn’t happen anywhere else and that scares the crap outta me.

There was one display that spoke about the children who were orphaned with a giant photo of a group of children staring down at the center.  At this point I needed a break. I didn’t have room to take in any more.  I just sat there and let them stare at me. I wanted to remember their faces and after everything I had already seen I needed to just sit down and breathe (and cry..again).  I looked into each child’s eyes and even though I was 3 years old when this happened I can’t help but feel responsible.  These children are parentless and what they went through has will be part of them forever and the most fortunate people in the world didn’t step-in to help.  When they needed us most, the UN said “yes, there is major killing and they need help” while pulling out troops and turning their backs on these children and their country. I’m ashamed and horrified that the entire world stood by and did nothing while this girl with deep brown eyes watched her parents be killed and carrying a baby on her back.  The 3^rd section of the center was dedicated to the memories of the children who died in the genocide. There was a large photo of a little girl named Ariane Umutoni. Looking into her eyes and then at the plaque that says

                        Ariane UMUTONI

                        Age: 4

                        Favourite food: Cake

                        Favourite drink: Milk

                        Enjoyed: Singing & Dancing

                        Behaviour: A neat little girl

                        Cause of death: Stabbed in her eyes and head

This room was filled with other pictures and mini-bios.  Seeing the face of a baby who’s head was bashed against the wall was too much. This memorial was so beautifully made. I felt like I knew a little of who they were. Humanized their photos and I felt like it gave them a little more life.

The survivor wall was a big room with photographs hanging on clotheslines. It’s a live display because people can come in and take photos or add photos of their families.  The photos gave a very short glimpse into the immense stories of those who are buried outside.  I sat again and watched another video projected on the back wall of survivors talking about the loved ones they’d lost.  A man was talking about how he and his mom were in hiding and there was almost no food left, only beans. His mom knew he didn’t really like beans so she somehow found him a passion fruit and the next day his mother was killed.  He’ll always remember that passion fruit was the last meal he ever had with his mom. I thought about the lilikoi that grows in our backyard and my parents are very adamant about making lilikoi juice out of it.  I don’t know why my mind went there, but I pictured the same situation and that lilikoi being the only thing we had to eat. I also couldn’t even remember what my last meal with my parents would be, but I know I would never be able to eat it again. What an ugly reminder of a tragic and traumatizing moment in his life.  Clovis was sitting near me and saw me crying. He scooted over, touched my shoulder and said “sorry” I asked him why and all he said was “you have to be strong.” I’m constantly in awe of their courage and how strong survivors are. I would be a wreck.

After seeing more and more death, hatred, and the extent to which the murderers went to to cause the most amount of pain, it was easy to say that they were just evil people. After lunch, we spoke to Jim Waller, a researcher of the penetrator psychology. He spends all of his time in the Rwanda prisons, interviewing the worst of the worst of the murderers. It was important to have that talk with him because it reminded me of how dehumanizing anyone, even someone guilty of such horrific things, is counterproductive.  Genocide is only possible because of the calculated dehumanization of the victims over time. By dehumanizing the perpetrators, we open the door for history to repeat itself.  In a way, the perpetrators are a different type of victim. I don’t want to put them anywhere near the same level as the true victims and those who were tortured or have to live with the physical and emotional scars. It’s scary to think that the people who committed these horrendous acts are human the same as anyone else. We all have it in us somewhere, which is yet another heavy truth I have to remind myself of.  These people were brainwashed and possessed by the devil.  They have to live with what they’ve done, and they easily could have been born on the other side of it. Most of them didn’t have a choice. We talked about that gang mentality that we see in America and how most of them were teenagers who are proven to act on impulse and take advantage of any opportunity.  I’d like to believe that human nature is to resist the opportunity to let the animal out and take without remorse, but when it comes down to it, we’re all made of the same stuff genetically. Those murderers are only 0.01% different than me, and it was the mob mentality that allowed it to get that far. It’s something I’m struggling to really believe, but I’m trying to forgive the human inside them.  If a survivor can live next to them and forgive them, I should be able to too.

Afterwards we did a workshop with Mashirika. I filmed a lot less because I really needed that reflection to deal with all of these intense emotions of the last few days.  Highlights were asking the difference between genocide and war, and exercises in how we carry burdens and the struggle to let it go. Then we went to Rosette’s for dinner which turned into one of the craziest dance parties. Can’t wait for them to take us out clubbing next week :)

Day 2 - Rwandan Rollercoasters

I apologize in advance if this post is all over the place and INCREDIBLY LONG I’m trying to break it up and bold the important things…but no promises. Today was such an emotional rollercoaster, I still feel like I can’t fully comprehend the experience I had today let alone pass that on to other people. Rwanda has changed me more in 2 days than any experience I’ve ever had. Nothing can compare. But I’m gonna try my best to explain.

I woke up under my mosquito net to soft sunlight and birds chirping out the window…2 hours before my alarm. I don’t remember the last time I slept that well and still woke up early. There’s a Rwandan saying that we kept hearing today “God spends his whole day working all around the world, but he sleeps in Rwanda” and at breakfast Drew asked what it was like to spend my first night with God.  We sat outside on the porch and took in the beautiful sunlight and scenery with my delicious Rwandan cup of coffee.

I’m gonna talk about my day out of order because I want to make sure I get to the important stuff and I’d rather end on a happy note…

NYAMATA GENOCIDE MEMORIAL – Questioning Humanity

The drive to Nyamata was our first time out of Kigali which is a major city. We drove there straight from lunch, so going from the city center and through all these smaller towns was one of the coolest transitions.  The landscape in Rwanda is so lush and green We’d pass a bunch of trees that would open up and show the hills and valleys. I’ve never seen so many banana trees!! There were children playing on the side of the road and carrying big square jugs of water on their backs or heads. There were bicycle taxis (yes a guy riding a bike with 2 seats who gives people rides) and women carrying fruits in baskets on their heads.

We get to the outside of the church and the guide, Valenti begins by telling us the story of the people who were massacred in this place.  The mere numbers were enough to sink my heart into my stomach.  Of the 45,000+ who are buried in the mass graves, Over 10,000 Tutsis were led to the Nyamata Church with false promises of sanctuary, and how they were killed is even more horrifying than the numbers.  It was a plan. Every piece of new information just made me question everything I believe about humanity. I hate to say it but I even began to question God. What God could let this happen? Of course I know that this was the pure absence of God, but it really makes me question my faith. How could any human PLAN to murder thousands of their neighbors with no mercy? What brings a person to do that?  They used work tools outside like machetes and hammers so that they didn’t waste their ammunition (something they could only get from the government). Then they tried to break down the doors of the church while the men inside pushed against the walls to protect the women and children inside. I can’t imagine the sheer terror to witness the massacre of your family and friends while hiding inside a church.  The screams ring in my ears and I know that what I imagine can’t compare to the reality of it all.  The image of the children cowering inside, trying to be quiet while seeing and hearing what will eventually happen to them is the heaviest truth that I have ever had to face. When Valenti points to the dent in the floor and huge gap in the metal door and says it’s from the grenade the Hutu extremists used to eventually get through the door. I look up and see the holes in the ceiling from the shrapnel.  We walk inside and the piles and piles of clothes on the benches taken off those who were killed there and more devastating reality hits me.  

At this point I’m still successfully keeping my composure because I’d seen these pictures before, but as I walk around I get the courage to really look at the details of these clothes and on the top of one of the piles is a tiny pink T-shirt with a faded cartoon on it and at the time I thought it was Rocket Power (but that wasn’t even playing till 1999).  Regardless, that tiny pink T-shirt was tattered and surrounded by more clothes filled with bullet holes. The clothes were so small. How could someone do this, let alone TO A CHILD? I want to erase my first thought from my mind because I thought that shirt looked a lot like one I’d seen Keilana wear with a similar character on it. It was exactly her size.  This is when I lost it.  The thought that a child just like my niece witnessed such hatred before being murdered so horrifically was unbearable.  They took this girl’s life and all of her innocence. We walk over to the back of the church and Valenti deals out yet another heavy story of how all the children hid in this area because it was the most protected and the adults hoped that by putting all the children together, the murderers would have mercy on them.  Unfortunately this genocide was about more than just killing the Tutsi’s physical bodies.  They’re intentions were to torture them not only physically, but emotionally by murdering all hope until they begged for death.  I remember the children we played with yesterday who were dancing and playing with us. Their curiosity still makes me smile, until I picture them cowering in fear while their innocence and faith in the world is destroyed under a cross in a house of God.

It was the job of the women to kill the babies. Most would pick them up and bash their heads against the wall, and most of the blood is still there. I remember when Eve and I were talking in the car on the drive up to Nyamata about how it’s scary to hold a baby because they look so fragile. Again I asked, HOW? What woman, let alone MOTHER could do this to a helpless baby? Later I am told that the more vicious women would pound the babies’ heads with a big stone mortar like a poi pounder.  It’s almost as if they got pleasure out of coming up with even more sadistic ways to end an innocent life. Like animals thirsty for blood.

We go down into the tomb and there are skulls and bones in a glass case.  I force myself to look at each skull and at this point I can barely hear Valenti’s explanations about IDs.  You can see exactly how each person died. Gunshots, machete, some looked like half of it had been completely torn off.  I tune back in and Valenti explains how most of the bodies were unidentifiable, so the survivors had no way to honor their dead.  They had to pass this place everyday with the knowledge that their loved ones never received a proper burial. So those who hadn’t found their relatives would clean unidentified bones to symbolically give their lost loved ones closure.  Going outside and into the next tombs, all you see are caskets draped with purple fabric (a symbol of mourning).  I couldn’t even count the caskets, and each had at least 5 sets of remains most had more.  One section had all of the skulls and bones laid out. The skulls were facing in towards the center, staring at me. 

Afterwards we spoke to a woman who was visiting the memorial named Veni, and she told us she goes there all the time and looks at the bones in the outdoor tombs searching for her family.  She talked to us for hours, and after going through such intense emotions, all she could talk about was how important it is to know the truth but also to move past it. “The mourning is over” and “There is a better day” such a wise woman and I’m blessed to have met her.  If she weren’t there I would have been in a very dark place. My heart had been broken and I had lost most of my faith in humanity.  Hearing her speak about something so horrifying and ugly in such a calm way lifted my spirit.  Knowing that a woman who has a direct connection to this place and even more questions that will never be answered can somehow forgive the murderers and those who refused to help is inspiring. The part of the apostle’s creed “forgive those who trespass against us” has never rung more true. She lives that everyday.  I think about all the people I get angry at on a daily basis for something as silly as cutting me off and the people I still hold grudges against because they’ve wronged me in the past and I think “If Veni can forgive the people who gave her brothers and sisters limps in 1959, made her move to another country, killed her family members, and be at total peace, I should be able to too.” I think how America reacts to any type of attack like 9/11 and how we’ve alienated an entire culture who had nothing to do with the attack. There is such hatred for the Islamic people in America because of what a few had done on 9/11 and some hold on to that hate, but somehow she is at peace with the thousands of her neighbors who raped and murdered uncountable numbers of her people including children.  She alone restored my faith in God and in humanity.  God sent her there to bring me back my hope, because without that there is no way I could have survived 2 weeks here.  Thank you Veni! I wish I had more time and space to tell more of your story. You have inspired me and given me something I will hold onto for the rest of my life.

On the drive back we stopped at a river (the name I forget, but will update later when Carl is up) There were men cutting sugar cane and young boys on boats hauling it down the river. The kids immediately crowded around us and loved playing with my camera (per usual).  We stood on the bridge with the beautiful Rwandan sunset and reflected on the memorial together just by saying single words.

HAPPILY EVER AFTER - at the beginning of the day..

Even though this happened first, I wanted to talk about it last.  My goal isn’t just to tell the story of the genocide. That story has been told many times and now there is a fear that Rwanda is still dangerous today.  That was in 1994, but Rwanda has grown and been reborn in the last 17 years.  There is life in Rwanda and so much joy. Just driving around if you smile at someone passing on the street they give you the biggest smile.  I’ve been given the best hugs by people I had just met.  There is an openness here that I haven’t seen anywhere else.  This is the Rwanda that gives Veni hope. (keeping it short because I’m already at 3 pages)

We went to the Mashirika studio at that’s a very small space with bright colors and great energy above a few shops down the street from our guest house.  The group did a lot of acting exercises and it was awesome to see how close we all were after only meeting last night.  Drew led breathing exercises and a fun name/movement game.  During the name part I wanted to get in the middle of the circle to film and of course slipped on my pants that are too long and slid right into the floor. Bruised my elbow, but the camera was perfectly fine.. so I’ll count that as a blessing. I always do know how to make an entrance aaand it was a game to introduce ourselves :) but the best part was definitely whenever Hope taught us songs in the Rwandan language. The first was repetition of “Mwaramuste” which means good morning. My favorite was  a song that was very playful, and the leader would say “Iyabi yabi yabawe” and the group would answer back “Iyaba Iyabawe” twice while going in a circle, then the leader could say anything they want being as silly as they want before passing it on to another person who could lead the circle in different directions. Difficult to explain, but that’s why we filmed the whole thing anyway :) We got some great footage.  Words cannot describe the joy in each of their smiles. As horrific as the memorial was, the time with Mashirika made me feel like I had grown another family and I never would have thought they had been through such a nightmare.  This is Rwanda in 2012. They’ve found the hope that was lost in 1994, built upon it and healed in less than 20 years. They remember their dead and the history and refuse to let anyone deny that it happened but still live their lives and find ways to find joy in whatever way they know how. For Mashirika it’s through music, dance, and theater. And coming from a place that still holds grudges about slavery and republicans or democrats, I wonder where we could think we are ahead of them.  The sense of community they have is priceless. The Rwandans I’ve met in the last 2 days have been through so much but are still happier than any American I have ever known and we could learn a lot from this “3^rd world” country.

I remember how ethereal my morning was, and I truly believe that the evil that occurred in 1994 (whether it be the fault of a corrupt government, the devil, mob mentality, pure hatred...WHATEVER it is) has been buried and built upon. Whether he was here or not in 1994, God is in Rwanda now.

Day 1 - It's Time for Africa

Sitting on the couch in New Life Guest House in Kigali Rwanda and almost everyone I’m here with is blogging haha. In case you missed it, I spent all of my 21^st Birthday on a plane to Africa. Correction: not A plane…more like 4 planes. From Boston to Buffalo to DC to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia to a stop in Uganda and FINALLY over 15 hours later to Kigali, Rwanda.   It took me from “snow” to desert and the longest leg of our flight was 12 hours!! We got here around 2pm Rwanda time, piled all of our bags into the bag of a truck and followed it in a big van.  We had a couple hours to settle in and take a quick shower before we headed out to ISHYO Performing Arts Center to meet up with the Rwandan performance group Mashirika (www.mashirika.com).  When we first arrived, there were a lot of kids around and we are so obviously American they couldn’t get enough of us.  It reminded me of when we went to the gypsy villages this summer. They ambushed us to take their picture and were totally tripping out on my video camera. I was letting them look through the lens and see themselves in the screen.  Definitely almost got it taken away from me at one point when I was surrounded by little kids with no way out, but they all listened very well once I got the heart to tell them no more. They weren’t even mad about it and started dancing for us. AND THESE KIDS COULD DANCE! They were doin the dougie and breakdancing. It was so cool. We were talking about it later and still can’t figure out how they know that stuff since most of them don’t have tv (a few didn’t even know that “dougie” had a name).

We finally went inside to “give” them our performance. It was so inspiring to watch both groups…definitely made me miss my Kam Skoo drama kids. The AFP group from Buffalo State performed 2 scenes from Romeo & Juliet and a few songs from RENT.  Mashirika’s performed an excerpt from one of their full-length plays inspired by the word “tomorrow.” It was about how children view tomorrow and the vicious cycle of abuse and runaways who get lost in it.  All the actors were stunning as individuals and as a group and we definitely got some great footage. Of course, at the end it ended in hugs like we’d known each other for more than just those few hours. After over an hour of carrying the camera on that shoulder mount I could definitely use some TLC on my back :) We’re all so tired after dinner (which was bomb btw), that when we all got on our computers to blog about it Papa Drew (aka Drengis Kahn) passed out on the couch with laptop in his lap. So of course we took a few great pics before we woke him up.

Tomorrow we’re meeting with Mashirika again so that they can start collaborating on the story they’re going to create together in their original (very very small) performance space. Then we’re going to lunch and heading over to the Nyamata Genocide Memorial…which I guess I’ll talk about tomorrow :)

Thanks again to everyone who supported me through this (financially and just keeping me sane whenever I freaked out about it).  I couldn’t have done it without all of you.

Dinner in a Palace!

1st day in Morocco....so far pretty amazing.

Went to the capital Rabat and was led around by a professor from UVA who is from Rabat. We saw a bunch of touristy sites and took pictures as usual. We went to this place that has a cool view of the ocean (women aren't allowed to go to the beach during Ramadan, so we could only look at it) then she took us to a rug factory. The ladies in there were so nice they stopped their very speedy production to show us how and just smiled and one even made a little yarn bracelet for me. I got some cool videos out of it, so I'll post some later.

It's Ramadan right now, which is the time that Muslims fast in order to experience true hunger and true thirst as a way of inspiring charity (at least that is what I was told during dinner by one of the professor's friends). The cool thing about it is that we were able to take part in an iftar (hopefully I spell that right) which is when they break from fasting. The COOLEST THING about it is that this professor's family apparently used to be a pretty prominent family in Morocco..because her "family home" is basically a palace...


yes that's right, I ATE DINNER IN A PALACE tonight.


It's closed to the public and their family has a rule of no parties outside of the people who own it. It's a kind of joint ownership so no one really lives there, it's just common property. I sat at the dinner in awe of everything. it was equally as beautiful and more well preserved than Topkapi Palace in Istanbul (obviously not as crazy, but seriously I still can't believe it).

Not to mention the dinner conversation was fascinating. We talked about religion and racism and language. I'm still trying to comprehend it all. Hopefully I have more thoughtful things to say about it in the morning...because it is about 2am right now.

We didn't get back until 1am because we left late then our bus got into an accident. not really sure how it happened because everyone was asleep..the story we've come up with is that something fell off the truck in front of us that was carrying a bunch of metal rods and cracked our window. It was complicated because a group of guys were running around on the back of the truck, but I'm thinking that was just unrelated nonsense.

Going to Marrakech tomorrow and staying in a Riad!! a really nice one too :)


did I mention that I ate dinner in a palace tonight? ..okay just checking

nighty night ya'll

Gypsies

Found this old post that never got sent…..so it was supposed to be dated July 28


So it's day 3 in Bulgaria and guess where I've been all day.....in bed! I was tired last night, so I stayed in. Good thing too because around 1am I started throwing up. Food Poisoning for the win.  I'm pretty sure it's all the food that they made us in the Roma community. It was all pretty good, but I guess my stomach just can't handle gypsy food. Luckily my friend Laura had some tums and that at least made my stomach stop hurting.

Anyways...besides the vomit, my visit to the Roma community was amazing. We went to 2 different villages. One was the lower class of gypsies whose houses are all run down. They were all so happy to see us that it really masked the intense poverty that they face everyday.  It was inspiring to see people with so little be so happy.  The kids were definitely the best part. They were loving our cameras and kept yelling "photo photo" I think they've never really seen pictures of themselves before so it was crazy. I felt kind of like an alien from another planet. Most of all, it was enlightening to see how the Roma really live and how nice they are especially since this entire trip gypsies just keep getting a bad reputation. Everyone always says watch out for gypsies, especially the kids, but after meeting them in their own communities it's obvious that they are all just trying to survive any way they can. There was a single mother with 5 kids and her house was so clean for what she had to work with. A father in the village also had 5 kids and he was talking about how they have no healthcare whatsoever and he goes into town everyday to try to do odd jobs just to feed his family. It was so hard to leave the first village because we could tell that the kids were having so much fun. It's an amazing feeling to go somewhere and just have your presence make someone's day like that.
Then we went to the second village which by comparison to the first was much more well off. They had homes with real doors and a working bathroom. They were a lot closer to middle class than the 1st. We sat in their living room for a pretty long time and got to ask questions about the Roma and it got really interesting. I never knew that there was so much division amongst the gypsies or that they had their own class system within their community. Whenever the elections come up their community gets a lot of money and support, but once elections are over they get forgotten again.  They were talking about how politicians will "buy" votes from the Roma and how they have to vote that way because the voting system isn't as anonymous as it seems.
After our talk we went to what was basically their community center. It was the biggest building in the village, but it was about the size of a my living room and kitchen. We had to wait outside because they were prepping something. And it was their custom to feed their visitors bread with honey as they walk in the door. It tasted like sweetbread and when we went in there was a bunch of teenagers in there dancing and a full table of food!
They made us a feast (possibly what made me sick, but now I’m thinking it was stomach flu) most of it was pretty good. I really liked the bread and the soup. Sausage was a little strange and I couldn’t eat it, but afterwards I had some rice pudding ☺ yummm. After we ate we danced and the girls let us wear their belly dancing belts and attempted to teach us to belly dance…it was a little strange. The boys were pretty eager to dance with us and take pictures so it got a little weird after a while because we didn’t want to offend anyone..It was one of the most fun times on this trip and it was pretty sad to leave.

Wedding Crashers

Crashed a Turkish Wedding last night...nuff said

So it's been awhile...

since I blogged. I think the last thing I wrote was about Italy, but it could have even been earlier. I don't have too much time to write right now, but here's a little recap:

Croatia was amazing. Such a beautiful place, but I get the feeling I was stuck in a touristy part of town the whole time. Like going to Hawai'i and only seeing Waikiki. We stumbled upon a not so touristy "beach" (there was no sand) and there were a lot of families and no one really spoke English there which was a good sign. Cliff Jumping was really fun. Never had to climb that hard to jump into water and the climb was definitely the scariest part of the whole thing. They even have cliff bars that serve drinks and snacks on the cliff so after you jump you can have a beer haha. On the last day people woke up really late so I ventured out on my own and saw some of the churches. As much as I'm loving my friends I definitely needed that. I would have left Croatia completely disappointed but that morning I walked around the old city and found the Church of St. Ignatius. Even after the Vatican and all these famous churches, going into that empty church and seeing the beautiful artwork and having time to actually read what it was all about was really what I needed at that point in the trip. I was getting pretty homesick and starting to wonder if I was actually getting anything out of Semester at Sea that was worth it. I even found this really cute market and bought some sage honey with almonds (ate some yesterday in my peanut butter sandwich and it was AWESOME).

Greece was pretty crazy. 1st day in Piraeus I had Greek yogurt and honey for breakfast then went to Athens and saw the Acropolis. It was cool, but after all the hype it's not really worth the heat stroke. It was pretty much like walking through the desert. If you're ever in Greece, go to the Acropolis in the wintertime...you're body will thank you. Afterwards Lisa and I went to Placa and shopped around a little bit. Got some really good food. Had a Greek salad and Lisa got Kebabs. The cook sent us over some free french fries too. Bought some Greek sandals and a few other gifts. After we got back to the ship we watched the Women's World Cup Finals at where else but TGI Fridays...yea I'm being serious...it was such a good game and we had a great time, but the US totally could have won it. My friend Paige's friend was actually in it and scored the first goal which was pretty cool. 2nd day we had no plans and there was a taxi strike so getting into Athens was going to be impossible. We walked around Piraeus for 2 hours trying to find a movie theater to watch Harry Potter. Finally got someone to tell us how to get there, but the bus took 1 and a half HOURS to show up because of the taxi strike. Got to the mall and Harry Potter was so worth it. I definitely can't believe it's over feels like my childhood has officially ended. Going to watch it again when I get back to the states because it really was the best movie.

I'm running out of time, so I'll just give the bare minimums. Next day went to Mykonos - fun but way too many tourists. Then went to Paros - totally UNDERRATED. my favorite part of Greece by far and wish we could have just went straight there. We're on the ship now and on the way to Bulgaria =) sad to be half way through the trip but excited for the next few countries. We're going through the straits of Turkey right now and it's pretty cool. I just looked out my window and saw the Turkey War Memorial..kind of awesome.


ps someone email me if I never wrote anything about Italy and I'll fill ya'll in.