Today it is nicely finished.
The living room is bare but clean.
The bedroom is tidy.
The head of the household is a 22-year-old young lady. She was 2 at the time of the genocide. Her parents did not die in the genocide but of AIDS. She was busy peeling cassava when we arrived. The fresh and uncooked white flesh is crunchy and slightly sweet. It is not unlike a starchy uncooked water chestnut.
The household seems to be doing well. Partly through raising these hungry pigs, who mistook me as their feeder and tried to push their snouts noisily through the slats.
It is gratifying to see the house completed, and that the household in flesh is doing well.