Every
time I ride a motorcycle in Rwanda, I am reminded how much I love being here.
There’s something about the wind against my face; watching women walk gracefully, large loads on their heads and banana trees in the backdrop; the
small-talk with my driver, and the winding hills that we go swiftly up and
down... a feeling of absolute satisfaction gets a hold of me and any doubts
about why I am here or whether I should just go home completely vanish. This is
exactly where I want to be, and I love it.
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