Kevine came to visit!

For those of you who don't remember, Kevine is the little girl I met at the Center Sante who called me Mamazungu and made me fall in love. She came to visit at the Centre Sante yesterday!!
I was in the backroom of the ARV filing office and she stormed into the main office and demanded, in Kinyarwanda, "where is my muzungu?!" That, alone, made me die. She found me and hopped into my lap and gave me a bunch of hugs and offered me her cookie. Once I got over my minor cute-overload-heart-attack, we went outside and played for a bit until her mom said it was time to leave.
About thirty minutes later, she came bounding back into the office! I was worried that she ran away from her family, so I stuck her on my back like a good African mama and wandered around the clinic looking for her mother. All of the mamas waiting for ARV consultations really enjoyed the visual of a muzungu with a baby on her back. Eventually I found her mother, which is good, because as much as I've fallen in love with this little girl, I'm not sure I'm ready to be a full-time mama.
The whole time Kevine and I played together, one of the nurses, Zena, whom I adore, kept asking Kevine how she felt about me and whether she loved me; Kevine continually replied, in Kinyarwanda of course, that she loved me and I was her muzungu. I died again.
I want to maintain some sort of contact with Kevine after I leave. Obviously there is a language barrier, but I would like to be able to mail her Christmas gifts and goodies from time to time, and maybe keep in touch once she gets a bit older and heads to school, where they are now required to learn English anyway. Did I mention that she's only three years old?! I thought she was just a small five or six year old--she is so lingual and sassy and bright!
Enough gushing.
Monday night, I went to see a German hip hop group, Massive Tone. It was awesome. They were great, though they barely used any of their own beats--almost everything was sampled, and after the show a bunch of local rappers (everyone here is either a small-time rapper or a small-time gospel singer, I swear) hopped up onstage and began a freestyling competition!
And last night, the woman who drove me home from Gisenyi had me over for dinner with one of her colleagues and his wife! It was very ex-pat-in-Africa. Her driver picked me up and her cook made special vegetarian dishes just for me. But it was awesome and I absolutely loved it!

Today I had Association visits in the morning, and visited for the second time the HIV+ woman whose husband likes to come home drunk and declare that the house smells like AIDS. I found out today that not only is he verbally abusive and a shmuck who refuses to get tested because he 'knows he's negative' despite fathering four children with an HIV+ woman, but he is also abusive on many other levels. Before she joined the Association, he used to beat her. Thankfully, though, now he does not do so for fear of retaliation from the strength of the Association. So instead, he locks his wife and four children in the house from the outside every night while he works a graveyard shift. This is especially fucked up because the bathroom is an outhouse. Visiting with this woman and her beautiful, sweet children (one of whom has a positive HIV diagnosis--they suspect two others are also positive but do not have definitive results yet) makes me so frustrated and furious. I just want to slap her husband across the face a thousand times. It makes me wish that the Rwandan culture wasn't quite so family-oriented, because the idea of leaving him and protecting herself and her children is not an option that would even cross this woman's mind. Aside from the fact that she is HIV+ and unemployed with four children at the age of 27, she would never betray the binds of family that are so intrinsic to Rwandan village culture.