Of Hills and Hope: My First 24 Hours in Gashora

First Day in Rwanda: Hills, Heartbeats, and Hope

I was part of an incredible organization called AIESEC, which introduced me to a world of opportunity through their exchange programs for youth under 30. But this story isn’t about AIESEC—it’s about the journey that changed my life. After applying through their website, I received all the support I needed to prepare. I paid the required fees and began getting ready to become a Global Volunteer in a completely new environment.

On June 12th, I left JKIA with a suitcase full of dreams and a heart split between excitement and fear. I had no idea what lay ahead—except for the helpful session I’d had with my exchange manager. She gave me a glimpse of what to expect: the culture shocks, my volunteer duties, and everything in between. The flight to Rwanda took barely two hours, but emotionally, it felt like crossing worlds.

As soon as I landed, I was welcomed by my buddy, an AIESECer assigned to guide and support me during my stay. I paid for a cab that would take me to my final destination, and that ride turned out to be my first glimpse into Rwanda’s soul. The country was a masterpiece of rolling hills and dipping valleys; even Kigali, the capital, seemed to rise and fall like waves on land. It was breathtaking, peaceful... a sight for sore eyes.

We were headed to Gashora, the village where I’d spend my weeks volunteering. Along the way, my buddy shared more about the organization I’d be working with, gave me a rundown of the dos and don’ts, and reminded me to keep an open mind. That advice stayed with me.

After two to three hours on the road, we finally arrived. I was greeted by warm smiles, colorful murals, and a welcome snack—just what I needed after a long journey. It was there that I met my first friend and roommate. We bonded quickly as she showed me around the place: the rooms, the local market, small shops, and the beautiful Ikirebe Art Gallery nearby. I was also told to always keep loose change on me—Gashora wasn’t a bustling city, but rather a quiet village where small coins still mattered.

That evening, we had a team briefing where everyone introduced themselves. We shared our names, roles, projects, and hopes for the journey ahead. There was an air of possibility in the room—a shared sense that we were all here to grow, serve, and learn something we couldn’t find in books. I felt nervous, yes, but deeply hopeful.

As I drifted off to sleep that night, the sounds of the village whispering softly around me, a quiet voice in my mind said something I held onto: Everything will be okay.

Feel free to let me know in the comments what you'd like to hear about Rwanda—stories, people, food, culture—I’ll be glad to share.

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