Description The whirr of the pottery wheel is the only sound that fills the wordless silence. Beyond my few greetings in Kinyarwanda, a language barrier separates me from the Rwandan potter. And yet, with the guidance of his patient hands and my clumsy fingers, together we craft the spinning clay into a smooth vase. The potter is a Pigmy from one of the marginalized and impoverished tribes in Rwanda. I am an American, living in Rwanda. As an expatriate, my life is culturally separate from Rwandans and the 3rd world poverty around me. Yet here, sitting side by side, a portion of our lives syncs together with the spinning wheel and movement of our hands, from which a cooperative work of art arises.