I met Gerard three years ago when I painted murals at local schools in Costa Rica with students from Earth University. Gerard was one of two students from Rwanda to earn full scholarships to this agricultural university. It had an amazingly diverse population with students from all over the world. Everyone attending had to learn, speak, study and write in Spanish. But, I spent a lot of time with the African students because most of them also spoke English.
Even if Gerard spoke no English, I would have wanted to know him. As a child, he survived the Rwanda genocide that took place in 1994. He lost his parents and many other family members. But, you'd never know it if you spoke with Gerard. I fear if this happened to me, I'd struggle with anger, resentment and just plain bitterness. Not Gerard. He is one of the most gracious, kind and positive people I've ever met. It was his decision to live this way. His personality is a magnet that draws people to him. And if you ever met him, you would also want to get to know him better.
I feared that he'd graduate before I ever made it back to Costa Rica (I was right.) and I might not ever be able to see him again. (I was wrong.) Of course, I do hope that one day he'll become Minister of Agriculture in Rwanda and decide the entire countryside needs educational murals. It may not be his dream, but it is mine. And, if you don't dream it, it certainly will never happen. Anyway, I wasn't sure if I'd ever see him again, but life and the universe had other plans in mind.
Gerard finished his four years of study in Costa Rica and was accepted into an internship program with the Ohio State University. The same OSU that is just about twenty minutes from my home. When I learned he was coming to Ohio, I was thrilled. I hoped he'd be stationed in Ohio for this internship, but that didn't happen. He was on his way to California. However, before that happened, there was a day of orientation in Columbus and 60 hours that I had to introduce him to the "Home of the Buckeyes". My visit lasted from about 4:00 in the afternoon on a Wednesday until 4:00 in the morning on Saturday. I never would have selected a departure that early in the wee hours of Saturday, but I've traveled enough to know that some times you just don't have a choice.
I did my best to plan a full 60 hours. It was Gerard's first experience in the United States. I wondered what he would find unique. It didn't take long to learn. In his hotel the first night, he didn't know how to turn on the hot water in his shower. He took a cold shower. That would never happen to me. I always consider taxi drivers, waiters and hotel staff as vital local resources. I would have asked for help. Gerard didn't, but he did ask at my home.
Our adventure started off with a trip to an international grocery store not so far from my home. We were going to prepare an African meal. I really didn't care what was on the menu as long as it was from Africa. So, Gerard strolled the aisle and decided it would be cassava leaves, which just happens to be my favorite African dish! But, his Rwandan version was not like anything I've ever had before. (I will soon link to the recipe.)
Since Gerard painted on my muraling project in Costa Rica, I wanted him to join the list of the very few people who painted with me in two countries. (Currently, five people including him.) So, he painted with me on mural 55 in the morning before heading out for a tour of Columbus with my friend Anne. I suggested two locations: the botanical gardens to tie into his agriculture degree and my only other exterior mural in the city. They didn't visit either of them. But, Gerard crisscrossed Ohio's largest city and saw a whole lot of traffic, congested living and big city bustle. He later told me that he wondered if the entire country was like this.
He wanted to see a village in America.
Now, I've lived in Africa and seen the difference between city-life and village-life. In an African village, there will usually not be any electricity or running water. There will be goats, chickens, brilliant stars at night, smoky fires for cooking and a lot of family living in close proximity. I assured Gerard that an American village was nothing like he imagined. No matter where I could take him in Ohio, there would be electricity, running water, cars and a decreased amount of cooking fires, goats, chickens and stars...
So, in the morning, we headed north to farm country - and a whole lot of open countryside - where some of my relatives live. The first village we went to was Waldo. It's not where the "Where's" guy is from, but this Waldo does have its own "world-famous balogna sandwich" at the G & R Tavern. Personally, it may be even less world-famous than me and I've been advised by those who have to never have one myself. Waldo may possibly be three streets wide. It's the smallest village I knew to take Gerard.
The next village we passed was Prospect. When passing through Prospect, the "must see" spot is the Pastimes Dairy Bar. I'm not sure if Gerard ever had an ice cream sundae, but he had seen enough villages to assure me that Prospect was not one.
After driving through these villages, as well as La Rue and Green Camp, the real reason for this trip was to explore farming first-hand in Ohio. My Aunt Marge along with her three sons grows crops. Not caring at all about farming myself, hating it from my youth when I had to garden all summer - every summer - I'd never had this tour. I saw machines bigger than I ever imagined possible, and they cost more than my home! It was all new for Gerard (and me). You could almost say he was in hog heaven, but we didn't see or smell any hogs.
We saw cows.
Those who know, know the difference in smells between hogs and cows. Not me. But, we visited my cousin's farm where Dwight raises around fifty cows. Gerard said he needed a staff of ten, but Dwight did all the work by himself. Okay, he had one very excited dog to help round up cattle, but that was it. Gerard was so impressed.
The tour wound around through some Amish farms, but it was a little too early in the season to see any farming. After all, it was still snowing in Ohio the previous week. But, we finally headed on to a massive dairy farm. Massive is defined as 3000 cattle with about that many acres. And with that many cows, there was "udderly" non-stop milking to be done. I'd never seen anything like it before. The cattle were ushered into what can only be described as something like a giant clock. Every five minutes on the "clock" was a cattle stall. Cows were individually ushered into stalls at about eleven o'clock. Then, someone attached the automatic milking attachments. The clock rotated slowly, counter-clockwise. By the time the cows reached one o'clock, they were fully milked, dis-attached and backed off the wheel. It must be said, it flowed like clock-work. It had to! All 3000 cows were milked two or three times a day.
It wasn't until the farm tour was completed that I realized that I almost missed out on all of this day. If things had gone as planned, I would have been starting another mural at an unnamed local school. If that mural had actually taken place, I would have spent this day drawing the design on the wall and setting up for the invasion of happy student painters the following day. Gerard would still have gone to the airport at four o'clock in the morning and I would have been an exhausted wreck on the main day of painting. And, probably the next day as well.
All I can say is, "Ndayishimiye".