Saying goodbye...

My experience of Rwanda has been a strange one. An experience you would probably not have if you were just travelling through Rwanda on holiday for a week or two. Every day here has been full of frustrations. You're warned - don't have expectations, be flexible, don't interpret things by your own standards and perspectives. You try but it's not always possible. Maybe some of the frustrations would have washed over me or gone unnoticed if I hadn't been so worn out, or had they been one offs. Maybe not.

At the airport with Grace, Sandra and Emmanuel

As if on cue, just as I was leaving the locals had one last opportunity to wind me up. Or at least that was how it felt. As I was saying goodbye to the boys, sharing hugs with each one, some stupid guy walks by, starts leering, and then clearly starts taking the piss out of the situation, joking to his wife and laughing. Just standing there a couple of metres away laughing. What is wrong with people? Do I have to live in isolation somewhere to be free of this sort of irritation?

The boys and staff on the morning of leaving...

Leaving was hard enough without that. How do you respond to a child who is crying because you’re leaving them. I know they’ll get probably over it fairly quickly but still, then and there, how do you deal with that when so much of you wants to stay and you know you’re walking away from children who’ve been hurt emotionally in the past. It’s weird, and tormenting, to have such extremes of emotions.

Goodbyes with the SACCA team of centre managers and volunteers after the leaving party...