One Year in Rwanda: Welcoming the Rainy Season Again

April has a way of announcing itself in Rwanda without subtlety. The skies grow heavier, the air thickens, and before long, the rain begins to fall, steady, persistent, and sometimes overwhelming. The rainy season is here again.

There’s something transformative about this time of year. The hills seem greener, almost impossibly lush, as if the country itself is being renewed. Roads can turn muddy, plans can change at the last minute, and the rhythm of daily life adjusts to the sound of rain on rooftops. It’s a season that demands flexibility. You learn quickly to carry an umbrella, to leave earlier than usual, and to accept that sometimes the weather will simply have the final say.

The rainy season also reveals a different side of Rwanda. Markets continue to bustle, children still find ways to play, and life moves forward with a kind of quiet resilience. There’s a beauty in that, how people adapt, how routines shift but don’t break. The rain becomes less of an inconvenience and more of a backdrop, something woven into daily life rather than disrupting it.

It feels especially meaningful this year because it’s almost been a full year since I moved from Japan to Rwanda. That realization is hard to grasp. A year ago, everything felt unfamiliar: a new climate, new routines, new ways of doing things. Now, many of those once-strange details have become part of my normal life.

I’ve gradually gotten used to the weather, including these long stretches of rain. I’ve adjusted to the pace of life here, which feels different from Japan in ways that are both challenging and refreshing. The food, once unfamiliar, has become something I look forward to. Even the language, which initially felt like a barrier, is becoming something I can navigate more comfortably day by day.

The culture and the people have also become more familiar over time. There’s a warmth here that stands out, a sense of community that reveals itself in small, everyday interactions. And perhaps most importantly, I’ve been fortunate to build connections along the way. Finding friends within the Japanese expat community has made a big difference, offering both a sense of home and a shared understanding of what it means to live between cultures.

Looking back, this past year feels like a gradual process of settling in, not all at once, but piece by piece. The rainy season feels like a fitting symbol of that journey. At first, it can seem overwhelming, even inconvenient. But over time, you learn how to live with it, how to move through it, and eventually, how to appreciate it.

As the rain continues to fall this April, I find myself reflecting not just on the season but on the year behind me. What once felt new is now familiar. What once felt uncertain is now part of daily life. And in the steady rhythm of the rain, there’s a quiet reminder of how much can change in a year.