I feel compelled to share my own experiences today, as Quite a Big Thing happened.

I am there, casually chatting to Ms Mahr, and I just reached out and enveloped her in a smooshy bear hug – the kind usually reserved for my squishy 4 year old back home. Ms Mahr, understandably, questioned if I am alright? I am not usually one for personal space invasion, for those of you who do not know me. This is what Rwanda does to you.

Since our arrival very early on Saturday morning, we have been met with smiles, hugs, high fives, hand shakes, blessings and hair touching. Somehow, here it feels natural to warmly embrace strangers, friends, and everyone in between. So, why are things so different here?

The first street kids project we visited, we still had our British awkwardness hanging over us like a fine Scottish Haar. They quickly blew this away with their infectious laughter and sense of fun. My proudest moment that morning was the validation that I peeled potatoes well. To be fair, this was with a single blunt blade, and there were MANY potatoes.

By the second street kids project, we were greeted with shrieks and shouts of “Muzungu”. Hands were grabbed and we were dragged up a dirt track hill and we get stuck right in and share our testimonies. The way people value each other stories here is the foundation of their community ethos. Everyone has their story, and every one deserves to be heard. The young people we spoke to here were delighted with our interest in their lives – and probably the biscuits we brought too. This was the day I learned that if you are asked if you want to walk or take the bus “down the road a bit”, you definitely choose the bus. A group of KHS students were taken the scenic route to the local pitch, where we taught the Rwandan kids Rugby, and they taught us Agati. I had a wee tear in my eye witnessing our KHS pupils work together to overcome the language barrier.

I could write an epic novel on all the wonderful tiny little things that I am proud of as I look at our KHS bairns. The compassion they have for the people who share unimaginable horror stories of what has happened to them, the way they scoop up mischievous toddlers, how they thank the “house Mama” for their hospitality and their growing confidence in mastering conversational Kinyarwandan. Trying, and loving new foods. Noticing how they brace themselves to get up in front of a room full of people they do not know, in a culture they are just learning about, and giving it laldy to the Gay Gordons even though they haven’t danced it since Primary 7. The three pupils ordering, paying and carrying a mass order in a bustling dusty market. Our lovely S5 highland dancer kicking up a storm. Listening to phone calls home as they excitedly share with loved ones what they have been up to. I can currently hear the plucking of a Ukulele and laughter drifting across the communal area as a heated game of Uno unfolds.

So, yes. I am hugging people, because I am so unbelievably lucky to be here in this country, with these young people, having these experiences. Murakoze, Kirkcaldy.