Teacher Trainings

In November, I ran three Primary Methodology Workshops- one for each of my sectors- for nearly 100 teachers. It was a phenomenal experience. I modeled the itinerary on the UNICEF Child-Friendly Schools workshop which I had co-facilitated in July. The main theme of the workshop was Multiple Intelligences and training the primary teachers in active math, language and science methodology. Ana, I used many activities that we did at PAFI such as the roulette paper-clip wheel for probability and Alison I used your playing cards game for adding/subtracting and multiplying with kidney beans as counters. Dad, I took the peg board game that you and Patty sent me and made a life-sized model out of a shoebox and straws punched in the holes. This strategic/ logical activity was a huge hit!! I had made several didactic materials out of margarine containers, boxes, string and beads found at the Gitarama market, including a counter device for math which functioned as a place value, fractions, counting and patterning visual aid. I made an "Adding Machine" out of some toilet paper rolls, bottle caps and a Digestives box for P1. With Emmanuel's help, there were 22 posters based on pages of the Rwandan Curriculum Math, Science and Technology textbooks on the wall and copied meticulously on to rice sacks by the teachers at the end of each training. We did texture art tracings and discussed mass/capacity using three different sized water bottles. BINGO, word association, Math Tic-Tac-Toe, Fortunately/Unfortunately, Detective and other low-organisational activities were enjoyed. Tongue twister challenges were given to "earn your invitation to lunch". Some of my favorite activities were ones that I thought up on the spot.
For an introductory activity, the entire group of 40 teachers joined a circle. I had a ball of yarn in my hand. I introduced myself and then, while holding a piece, threw the yarn to the teacher opposite me, he did the same and so forth until we had made a giant web. I explained that "this learning web we had created demonstrated that what I know, I will share with him (pointing to the teacher across from me) and what he knows he will share with her (pointing to the next person attached to the yarn-web) and so forth. We were going to spend the next two days COLLABORATING". And that is exactly what we did. To follow up at the end of Day One, I threw the ball around the circle asking for input on what activities the teachers wanted to see included in Day Two and at the end of Day Two we revisited the circle once more to feedback on the sustainability of the activities learnt.
Daniel, the teacher from EP-Rubona had asked to co-facilitate with me and since I had determined that I didn't wish to engage another VSO methodologist to help me with the two weeks of training, it was a perfect fit that Daniel would fill this role. He was instrumental in keeping the pace, encouraging different techniques to assist with the language barrier (I so often fell back on my French and he encouraged me to just try again with simpler, slower English vocabulary instead) and his presentation about starting an English Club was moving.
Daniel spoke to his peers about the fact that you can start an English club, as he has done at his school, no matter how small at first. He used a metaphor to perfection. "Still just one match can burn down a forest. Start a club now, with only a few and watch it grow. Everyone can do this. Why not you in your school?" I was amazed and still continue to be impressed by his enthusiasm for education. Rwanda needs more passionate teachers like Daniel.
There were so many highlights to the exhaustive two weeks that I'll short-list a few.
Agnes a 66 year old widow on her hands and knees tracing a poster for her classroom.
Deciding last minute to add music to the schedule and watching the teachers come alive as they sang/performed/made instruments out of seemingly nothing and impressed the socks off of me!!
Seeing teachers on break with the Tongue Twisters jar, going through them one by one to practice their English Vocabulary
Deciding that the solution to the chatty/energetic/less than perfectly co-operative group during the second training was to do a tower building challenge with 30 waterbottles each and then watching as EVERY SINGLE TEACHER in the room became actively engaged in the efforts to build the tallest tower. These thirty minutes of problem-solving, co-operative teamwork and enthusiasm made up for the late arrival, inattentive, apathetic bunch I started out with in the morning. (Sector will remain anonymous)
Being taken to the neighbours house to use the "clean washroom" which turned out to be a really disgusting pit latrine and then trying to decide if being hydrated was necessary for the rest of the two days.
Some lowlights:
The teacher at the unnamed sector who showed up for roll call, left, showed up for lunch, left and showed up at the end of the day to collect the transport fee without participating at all!
The headteacher who wouldn't come into the classroom to see what we were doing despite several requests and the sector head who was insisting on "compensating" the teachers for having to come in on their holiday after they'd already had transport money, a free meal, a resource package and 3 rice sacks and two free days of training. I refused to let him give them any more money. After all, it was my training and the reward is the LEARNING! This training group even made me pay for the envelope used to put the attendance sheet in at the end of the day?! Thankfully the other two sectors were opposites, coming up with transport and food themselves, somewhat.
Touching moments:
Olivier, the boy whose house I used during the trainings was delighted by my presence. On break we played catch with the orange plastic ball and he hung out just outside the window, watching everything we were doing. Olivier is 7 years old and cuter than most- I'll try and find his picture and post it.
At the third training, two teachers brought their babies on their backs. The first was very quiet and other than the several breastfeeding breaks during my math lessons, not a disruption. The other was also very quiet and at the end of the day I went to speak to the mother and asked "What did he learn today?" She very timidly showed me that "He is handicapped." I then proceeded to have a lovely conversation about my brother Mike and was quite moved when the mother asked me point blank "My boy, he is 16 months old and he doesn't speak and doesn't walk. WILL HE EVER DO THESE THINGS?" It was alarming at first that because there is next to no education about handicaps, this mother doesn't understand the developmental delays of her own child. Most similar cases hide their children at home. This young mother was brave enough to bring him out and clearly loved him dearly. I said quite calmly and matter-of-factly to her that "Il prend son temps." (He is taking his time). And we discussed the need for lots of stimulation- physical, verbal and the belief that he can or will be able to do most things. There is a fine line between trying to instill some hope and creating a false promise however it is my, and my own mother's philosophy, that our potential is limitless. During our chat, the boy (who is still carried on the back like an infant) was playing with one of the squishy balls. At the end of day two I had every intention of giving it to him but the mother left before I noticed she had gone. I ran out of the classroom and on the street were 30 or 40 people. I couldn't find her. Down the lane, I spotted the mother's patterned African outfit and took off running. I caused a small scene as I chased her down, said "Ndashaka guha ballon na imana ibahe umugisha" in my crooked kinyarwanda and gave that boy the ball. It was one of the more touching moments of November.
Well, I have since seen several of the teachers that I trained during those two weeks in town or on the bus and I enjoy our interaction. I can't wait to run more workshops although since the start of school has been nationally delayed until Febraury 2nd, this might be tricky to accomplish. I think there will be some Methodology Training in my future career, it is simply the best combination of challenge and person-to-person impact and idea-swapping and I really love it.
Ciao for now!
PS Gorilla post is next, I promise.

Mid-December Post

“It is possible to be standing on one side of a door and perceive the world as a dark and lonely place, while on the other side of that very same door are countless people just waiting to lend support and cheer you on. All that is required is that you turn the knob.” Author Unknown

Challenging. That is the one word that sums up this experience and it can either imply a good thing or a not so good thing. I am determined to see this placement through no matter what! I have spent the past couple of days doing damage control but it is definitely paying off. There is a fantastic new Director of Education in Kamonyi District and the ideas proposed for January have me excited again about being here. Our housing issue is FINALLY getting some attention and we will be in a new house as soon as I, the ever-resourceful volunteer, find myself one?! Christmas holidays, right? The atmosphere in Gitarama is also improving, it was very different without Christi, Nathan, Moira and Michael but they are all returning in January, thank goodness.
My Kamonyi colleague Ernest, the one who has been there since the beginning and was the former charge of education, has a new role as sector head. I had a lovely conversation with him today and he was wearing the Che Guevara T-shirt I gave him when I thought he was leaving for good. I really hope to work with him again in January. It seemed for awhile that all the capacity building I had done evaporated with the removal of the Mayor, the Charge and the Director of Education but hope springs anew. Plans are in place for January and I’m definitely up for giving it all another go. I have never had an experience quite like this one as the circumstances make you feel like packing it in.. REGULARLY. But I am a persistent, some might say stubborn, goal-oriented redhead and I am going to make this work no matter what !! I have a vision of the end of my placement where I am doing a handover to the incoming methodologist and Kamonyi District, with all of its enthusiastic and in-need teachers will work with VSO for many years to come. What is that Adidas slogan? Impossible is nothing.
Have to rush home now as Art Club is this afternoon and I think we are making finger puppets. Karen and I are almost ready for Christmas, we have bought gifts for all of our art club participants, a few select neighbours and colleagues and are excited to be hosting a Holiday Party next week. Unfortunately, we both went to the doctor yesterday and are also playing host collectively to parasites, amoebas and giardia. Love you Rwanda, but wish you could provide us with a bit healthier of an environment L.
Gorillaz, Zanzibar and a detailed account of the charming 7 year old who spent 2 days watching one of my workshops from the window of the classroom are all forthcoming once I’m done at work- work which might finally, and hopefully, be organized enough to start experiencing a level of success in the placement. It will be a joyful season yet!

Word Searching

Hi Friends!!
I am writing to promise you some fascinating upcoming posts about Teacher Trainings, Gorillas Mating (I mean Trekking), my Zanzibar adventures and many more stories. It is now school break and the past month or so has not been without drama. I wouldn't expect anything less from my Rwandan experience! I am thinking of home a fair bit but today I skyped for over 3 hours and feel so comforted by the support of my family and friends. I am hoping that everyone is well and is able to prepare for and enjoy the holiday season. I will do the same here in Gitarama with my neighbours, roommate and the amazing children in my life, who never tire of showing me love.
New posts will be forthcoming to explain in detail the new pictures I've just added, your patience will pay off tenfold.
Be well, talk soon!
Becky

The Hokey Pokey was right!

That's what it's all about. So says the "Hokey Pokey", which for the record is a big hit with Rwandan teachers and also a good motto for life. Put your hand in the ring.. I've done so by finally planning, organizing and facilitating three amazing workshops for my three sectors in Kamonyi District. It only took six months to pull it all together. The best part is, the trainings went incredibly well and those 100 teachers will become my best means of advertisement within the District and at the Education Office. I am certain they are going to return to their schools and share the new methodologies they've acquired and then be asking: "When's Rebecca's next training?" I have so much more to tell you about the workshops and which activities worked and which flopped and about all that I've seen in the last few weeks- including MOUNTAIN GORILLAS in Virunga National Park and Stone Town in Zanzibar!! but I am running out of time at this Internet Cafe and life is beckoning me outside. The rain is letting up, there are the idyllic sidestreets with quaint shops, the open market on the beach, the marvellously wood-carved doors and portugese influenced architecture, the warm, embracing island air, the tortoises on that island over there waiting to see me tomorrow, the sunset I'll watch tonight- yes, I'm in Zanzibar right now! I can safely say that after several challenging months in a country not easy to live in (Rwanda) and my recent FOURTH bout of malaria this past weekend, I am going to indulge this week in doing next to nothing on my little holiday. Tomorrow I am turning 33 years old. I'm feeling contemplative but happy, eager but not anxious, loved and safe. I sometimes think about the future goals and yet to be experiences and wonder where I'll be a year from now but I think it will all work out in the end. Haha, I actually heard a salesguy today say "Hakuna Matata", yup "no problem". I hope everyone is well at home. Talk soon, Becky. Now... I've got to get my "shop on"..hee hee.

The 5th of November

I'm going to write about my day, just today Thursday, November 5th so you can share my experiences. I woke up before 6 to the sound of the call to prayer at our neighbouring mosque. Sometimes I sleep through it, but most often I wake up around 6. It's a routine I can't shake even on weekends. I was in a rush because before I catch the 8am bus I must drop off an envelope to the YWCA for Charlotte as she is picking us up a modem in Kigali. I am carrying a big, heavy bag of resources for my workshops. I have slowly but surely been bringing didactic materials to the school hosting my first workshop. I will run the first workshop and then pack everything up to take it to the next location and then pack it up again for the third sector. Each sector gets a 2 day training. I drop off the envelope of money and catch the bus. Several of the usual beggars approach the window along with vendors. I pop my iPOD into my ears and face forward. I delete some numbers on my phone of people who have now left or returned home while I wait for the bus to pull out. The man beside me clearly wants to start a conversation but I don't as this usually ends in asking for my phone number so he can beep me or request something of me later on down the line. Since I ride the bus everyday, I have to manage who I chat with and who I don't. The bus leaves weaving up and down round each curve on the scenic road to Kigali.
I knock on the window at Kamonyi and hop off but for some reason today there are no motos in Kamonyi. I wait a bit and text Emile, the regular guy and soon enough he's there. The path we take off the main road to get to EP-Rubona is very bumpy and when we first dip off the main road it feels like I'm on a rollercoaster as it's almost straight down. I usually close my eyes a bit. We weave our way to the school, it's empty, I call the Headteacher and he sounds like he's in Kigali but says he's on his way. I sit outside the teachers' room and wait. Eventually I decide to stroll the grounds, say hi to the cow, admire the view, acknowledge the bathrooms are locked, etc. A young boy from Primary 4 shows up, he's the shepherd and has come to let the cow out for a stroll. The cow comes charging out of the stall and circles around until he is standing a few feet from me. Now, the VSO Handbook definitely doesn't say anything about what to do when a giant cow charges you. I kind of shuffle my feet and she startles away, does a lap in the yard and comes charging forward again, stopping about 2 feet from me. The shepherd boy is still running over to catch up to her, yelling something in kinyarwanda. Honestly, she was a bull minus the horns, I was a little intimidated. I kinda yelled something, the boy caught up and wrestled her rope to the flagpole. Crisis averted.
The Headteacher eventually shows up, we sit down to discuss who will cover what costs and the organisation process of the upcoming workshop. I am quite disappointed as the discussion veers towards "we have no money for transport, can't provide tea at break, cut the training time down or else the teachers will complain there isn't a per diem, what motivation is there for the teachers if you are only offering a small meal, it's the school holidays and you're making them come in.." I am infinitely frustrated because I am about to provide a free training and give each teacher many didactic materials along with model lesson plans, rice sacks to make posters, teacher resource handbooks and my time. I know why the teachers are frustrated, they don't get paid well and are often not paid on time and all the usual bull about how hard life is here. I get it. I am sympathetic. But why am I having to ask "Please will you come to this free workshop I am going to give you that will help you become a more effective english teacher and please come so I can give you many ideas for making resources out of found materials." When the Headteacher asked who else was running the workshop I answered "just me". He was surprised that I had made all 20 posters (with Emmanuel's help) and the dozen or so math manipulatives and prepared teacher handbooks for 100 and was preparing to run a workshop for two days, alone. I am struggling with the whole learned helplessness that exists here. Help me do it, fine. Do it for me, not okay. I want the teachers and Headteachers to participate in the process and I feel like sometimes they just expect NGOs to sweep in and do it. Working in particular with a low-budget NGO which seeks to empower people to do it for themselves, it is so hard to manage the disappointment associated with "I don't have resources for you. The resources I'm providing you are ideas."
I am the first volunteer to work in Kamonyi in this capacity so I have to make allowances for the fact that they don't completely understand how VSO works. Still, when I did school visits everyone was so keen. Yes!! Come and help us with our teaching, show us some ideas, we want to work with you. And now that the workshop is here, oh it's the holidays, oh we have to provide food during the training, oh it's not enough budget for transportation. The kicker today was on the walk back from the rural school to the main road. A very friendly lady came up and gave me a hug, a greeting and handed me her baby. I could tell, even in kinyarwanda, what she was asking of me. I gave a blessing and handed the baby back and as I walked away I clarified with the Headteacher what she was asking of me. Yes, she had no milk and was asking me to feed her baby.
We walk 45 minutes uphill back to the main road, I was very hot and very thirsty having not consumed anything since 6:30 in part because the bathrooms were locked at the school. I caught a stopper bus back to Gitarama, it can take anywhere from 30 minutes to 90 so I call Christi to say I might be late for lunch. At one of the many stops, a man approaches me with the usual box of candies, cookies and Kleenex. I buy two lollipops and give them to the two little girls who have been sneaking glances at me since I boarded the bus. They are very polite, smiling and saying "Merci." I meet Christi in Gitarama and we have a great chat as I pour out some of my thoughts on what comes next after my VSO contract is up in March. I am full of ideas! Any thoughts of coming home fill me with guilt as there are many more long-term humanitarians here, albeit working with significantly bigger budgets and very high-functioning NGOs. Thoughts of extending my contract however, when the day to day frustrations feel insurmountable, at the moment doesn't feel right. I look at the workshops I did with Unicef several months ago and wish I could do that everyday, 5 days a week. I feel like I am only using 10 percent of my abilities and the rest of the time I am problem solving how to just manage/cope/exist here. The living conditions are okay but I still miss normal food, having electricity all the time, hot water, carpet, shoes without holes, heat when it's cold, transportation that doesn't involve sitting in a squished bus in 30 degree heat, drinking something other than Coke or water, having clean toenails, feeling RESTED and seeing my friends!! Okay, I've poured it all out. I'm just really tired. Unfortunately, even in the capital of Kigali there are many things you just can't get here. Compared to other African countries that welcome tourists on a regular basis, Rwanda just doesn't have a lot of western style things. The treat of the week is a tin of Pringles. I can heat a bucket of water for a hot shower. I never considered myself a high-maintenance person but perhaps I need a little more than what's offered here. We just say that certain things are "forbidden" in conversation. That's how we rationalize the fact that we can't buy clothes here that aren't second hand donations from the West or since the rains have come we have to contend with a zillion flies inside and outside of the house. Rice, pasta and vegetables that you buy at the open-air market. The kids, love them like crazy, are sooooo filthy. Guaranteed that I got my amoebas, typhoid and half my colds from hugging, hand-shaking and high-fiving with them. Not that I'm going to STOP doing any of that :)
Okay, I digressed a little there and started outright complaining. I guess I needed that. After lunch with Christi I came home and was followed by three little boys. Asante, Mohammed and a third. I brought them inside the gate and Emmanuel and I played soccer against the three under 8s in the front yard. A head popped over the wall, it was a lady with a headdress asking if she could come visit. I said yes and she brought two friends over. As is the custom, I made tea and offered biscuits and Karen joined us for the kinyarwanda translation and to be neighbourly with me. After a fun game of soccer with the kids, I went to send them on their way but at the gate were 10 or so more. I tried to say no but saw JeanPierre looking very forlorn as he gets from time to time. It's as if he's had a very sad day, not sure what exactly that means but you can just see from the look on his face, something terrible is going on. I sent the three on their way but invited JeanPierre and his buddy Francois to come and challenge Emmanuel with their soccer skills. In a few minutes they were all giggles and smiles. The three ladies had been on their way to fill jerrycans so we suggested the boys just fill them from our sink. Eventually all five visitors leave and Karen and I are due at our neighbour Fils' house. We go there for a visit, mostly out of curiosity to see who is looking after this orphan. Apparently he lives with his two aunts, his mother's sisters who both study during the year in towns well outside of Gitarama; Nyagatare and Nyanza. Does this mean other than school break, he lives alone? Possibly. We leave Fils and get stuck playing Hokey Pokey, Ring around the Rosie and "Juck, Juck, Juice" (the way the kids pronounce "Duck, Duck, Goose") with the 20 kids and one or two adults who have joined in.
I am home a few minutes then head off to Tom's because I need to borrow some dice for a math game. There is a letter from Emmanuel, our guard. Now, if I haven't said so already, I am very fond of Emmanuel. He is 22, lost both parents in '94 and we have kind of taken him under our wings. We feed him, give him drawing materials, invite him inside as often as possible, have bought some Arsenal paraphernalia for him and he feels like a part of our home. He gets paid a teachers' salary which is double what VSO has given me to pay him monthly. I just thought if I could give one person some help, it should be him. The letter says in a very kind way about his family's history, being an orphan, having finished senior secondary school and his struggles as a young man... can we help him to build himself a house? I don't feel badly that he is asking, I would do almost anything for Emmanuel. On my walk to Tom's I meet Kate who would like me to come on Saturday morning to take pictures of her sister Bridgette for the memoir we have written together. We will take photos and I will get the story bound in Kigali. She will then send it off to her American friend and see what becomes of it.
The power goes out around 6pm. I am just very tired. I know there are moments today that I have enjoyed very much, like when Fils sang us a song during his visit. This parentless child has a beautiful voice and sang to us about Jesus providing for him. Watching Arianna, who is 4, do the Hokey Pokey or little Mohammed giggle as I grab his shirt, preventing him from scoring another goal in my front yard. I just get stalled when I think of what impact I'm having. Did I come here to play with the kids? I thought I came here to train teachers?
Allright, it's almost 8pm. I'm still in town at the Internet cafe- not for long as we get a modem on Sunday and I can start emailing/Skyping more.
What lesson can I glean from today? It's not about me, but sometimes it is. A friend told me enjoyment is a feeling. Can I not manage the extraordinary circumstances here so that I can feel good more often?
That's a little glimpse into my mind this day, the 5th of November. Thanks for listening.

Art Club

Extra-curricular activities in Rwanda. Why not? The kids in our neighbourhood would play with us everyday if they could. Unfortunately, that’s an impossibility but I did decide to start an Art Club. Every Wednesday afternoon at 4pm (or ku wa gatatu/ sakumi in kinyarwanda), we open our doors to a dozen carefully chosen kids between the ages of 5 and 12. Actually yesterday a 4 year old boy named Mohammed somehow managed sneak in, runny nose and all. The initial art club had one kid, JeanPierre who came and painted for the afternoon with Emmanuel, our guard and me. I told him the following week he could invite one friend, he brought Francois. Then I told the two of them to each invite a friend and the next week we had five. (Not sure who didn’t follow the guidelines but it doesn’t matter). Now, after 8 weeks, we have an officially established Art Club.
Last week, Karen made puppets out of brown paper bags with them. They turned out really well! This week, we took large water bottles, hollowed them out, used straws for masts and construction paper for sails- to make our very own sailboats! It’s so interesting to watch kids of this age (we have more boys turn up than girls) here in Rwanda. They are so enthralled by the activities that they rarely speak during the hour but are intently working away on their drawings. There is absolutely no art curriculum in schools so the idea that they have an opportunity or outlet for their creativity was the motivating factor for this club.
As a side benefit, I learned that our 22 year old guard Emmanuel is a very gifted artist. He has since been tasked to make the posters for my teacher trainings. He made all 16 posters that are now hanging in the resource room at EP-Rubona. And thank goodness because I am in no way capable of drawing like that! I am hoping to get him a commission to do some painting at the schools in the future. Why not? We are also looking in to what kind of higher education is available in Rwanda such as an Art College. His birthday is in December and we are going to get him some oil pastels or something. Finding art supplies in Rwanda is like finding an icecube in the Sahara. I have used many of the stickers, markers and paper that Dina and Ana sent in their packages. The superhero stickers were a big hit !!!
I have been reading through my resource books to find art activities that can be made from simple materials like boxes, paper, sticks, glue and so forth. I even sent emails to teacher friends for simple art ideas along with energizer ideas for my workshops. Speaking of them, I am running 3 workshops in November. I am 100% ready, the room is set, the didactic materials and math manipulatives are made and sitting at the school, the teacher handbooks are mostly ready and the itinerary is set. The workshop plan has been submitted but the first one isn’t until November 9th so I am waiting patiently. The pace here continues to be so much slower than how I’m used to doing things. That’s fine, I guess but I am a results-oriented person so I’ve had to make a huge adjustment.
Things like the Art Club, or writing Kate’s memoir or possibly tutoring some kids are all ways in which I can “volunteer” as well. I had a few of the girls over the other day and we made bracelets. We continue to have Marie and her 10 month old son JeanPaul over every Sunday. And our little friend Clementina, her mom and her brother have been joining us as well. There is a Rwandan tradition of visiting that initially I balked at because I thought I needed atleast one space to myself. I have since changed my mind, influenced greatly by another friend who lives in a rural area with no other expats. He has a revolving door of visitors from colleagues to street kids. It’s charming and there is a cultural lesson I can learn here. Keeping the company of others is an integral part of maintaining one’s well-being and extending that invitation or accepting that offer is far superior for my state of mind than watching another Ben Affleck movie. (Sorry Ben).
Case in point, last Sunday JeanPierre (pictured in the green shirt on my blog) invited Karen and I over to his house. This thirteen year old, who lives with his often absent father, bought us each a Coke and sat contentedly as host in his living room. The living room being a very small dirt and mud room. We caused quite a stir among the other kids who kept crowding around the door or casually sauntering by the window to peer in. I finally shoo-ed them away but not before a comical exchange with some of them. I have a very slight control over the kinyarwanda language and often in times of disciplining, this is an impairment of sorts. I said to the one cheeky boy “Wowe oya hano ubu!!” which roughly means “You, not here, now!” While his friends ran off at the sight of me wagging my finger and looking all stern, he proceeded to make those four words into a little song and jig. I had to turn around to keep from laughing!Ever have those teacher moments, when you’re trying to discipline a kid and he makes you laugh?
A very nice visit indeed with JeanPierre and we now have an invitation to Fils’ next week. Should be interesting, we really want to find out who looks after him as he is parentless.
Speaking of orphans, I met a really nice one on the bus yesterday. Usually when I’m sitting waiting to leave and a man sits down beside me when there is so obviously 11 other seats he could choose, I get annoyed. In this case, I met Christian a 20 year old who had just completed senior 6 and was returning home for school break. (Home being an orphanage up near Ruhengeri). He has lived there for 10 years. We conversed, I taught him tic-tac-toe and a few other car games and as he dismounted the bus I watched him walk away. He has nobody. What does that feel like to be alone in the world and relying on people other than relatives for support? I promised him a game of pingpong if he’s ever back in Gitarama. He said he’d text me his exam results when he got them next week. I know at some point I will decide to help someone here in a more significant way, whether it’s Christian the orphan, JeanPierre the uber-polite neighbour or Marie and her little son (who we suspect may have Down’s Syndrome as he has several of the traits). I understand I came here as a volunteer and what I’m giving is my time and what I’m sharing are my ideas and the currency I’m trading in is love. It never, ever feels like enough.

Akagera National Park

Karen and I were commiserating that we never do anything fun- Gitarama can be a very quiet, sleepy place at night. If an expat hasn’t planned a games night or dinner, there is little to do and after exhausting most of my DVD supply, we really needed SOMETHING to do! So we picked up the Rwanda Bradt Guide Book on Tuesday night and decided on Akagera National Park. It is in the far east of the country, right on the Rwanda/Tanzania border and with a friend living in the area to stay with, we organized a driver and set out for some safari adventuring.
Can I just mention that I was a little over-excited about this trip? Honestly if I had seen one animal I would’ve been happy. After chimp trekking in Nyungwe Forest for four hours and seeing NO chimpanzees, I was psyched for some nature. On a tight budget, we hired a local man with a matata (basically like the mini-buses from town) and he picked us up at 5:30am on Saturday morning. Now, the reaction of our tour guide at the park was priceless. There were six other vehicles there that day- all of them SUV’s, Jeeps or 4x4s and we pull up in a rusted out bus whose doors won’t close properly. When we came across a dozen buffalo, one of whom was not too pleased with our presence, the guide alerted us to “not make any noise just now” and Karen and I could not stop giggling at the thought of a male buffalo vs broken-down matata showdown. Who would win do you think? He’s pictured on the right of my blog.
Seeing the giraffes was magnificent! You know in the movies “Dances with Wolves” or “Last of the Mohicans” when there are scenes on the prairie and its’ vastness is accompanied by sweeping, epic music? I kept hearing that music in my head as we communed with these graceful animals. They walk with opposite hand and opposite leg but when they run, they saunter. Their necks look too heavy for their bodies to support and the patterning of their skin is incredible. We were quite close to a male and female who were trying, albeit unsuccessfully, to mate. I said to Karen, “I don’t really want to see this, but if I get a good photo I’m selling it to National Geographic!” As it turned out, Mrs. Giraffe was playing hard to get and kept running off as Mr. Giraffe attempted to jump on.
We saw many baboon, impala, bushbuck, birds of extraordinary colour and the Tanzanian coastline! In between animal sightings, it was a very bumpy, uncomfortable ride with the only two seats in the matata seemingly ready to break free of their hinges. Only the back window opened so when an animal was spotted, we had to hop over the seat to hang out the back window, or sit on the spare tire in the back. Several times, while off-roading it appeared as though we were stuck and might have to get out and push our 'little engine that could' back onto the road. Karen kept saying “This’ll make a better story in the end” and I kept thinking “but what end exactly?”
We entertained ourselves by trying to spot various animals which is quite tricky as there are lion-coloured rocks and giraffe-like tree branches EVERYWHERE! We also enjoyed acknowledging our fellow adventurers in their SUVs who gave us two girls in our cheapmobile strange looks all morning. We started to sing the songs from the Lion King and just at that moment, our guide said “Look, it’s Pumba and the kids!” A family of five warthogs ran by. The three little ones scurried hurrily beside mom and dad; just as frightened and horrified by our white matata as the khaki-clad SUV people.
Down by the water was the real treat. Many hippos floated contently in the water. Our guide encouraged us to get out of the van and walk closer for the sake of photos. The SUV group beside us was seen to be gesturing and arguing with their guide about the fact that we were out of the car and one by one, they also got out to investigate. It was the sounds the hippos made that impressed me the most. From time to time their nostrils cleared the waterline and “POOF!” they took a breath and then disappeared again. There was a tiny baby crocodile skimming across the surface as well, and we were reluctant to stay longer fearing that Mama crocodile was probably very near. Other highlights were seeing the sacred Ibis, baboons with babies clinging on, the monkey from Friends and just the whole experience in general- far better than another Saturday watching movies on the laptop.
Elephants hadn’t been spotted in over a month. That was the one disappointment, I had really hoped to see elephants. Maybe next time…
Karen and I thanked our guide, who reminded us to come in a “real vehicle” next time. We just laughed and climbed back in our rustmobile to clunker our way back home, nursing very sore backsides but with very satisfied curiosities.

Soccer with the First Lady

Nearly three weeks ago I had the unique opportunity to play in a charity soccer match in support of the One Dollar Campaign. This charity supports children orphaned by AIDS. This involved me arriving at Amahoro Stadium in Kigali around 1pm on Saturday to meet “the team”. Our team was a group of women expats working in Kigali for various NGOs or wives of NGO workers. The game was scheduled for 2pm and in true Rwandan fashion, we sat for four and a half hours waiting for our turn to play. There were several kids matches planned and we quickly realized that the six year olds were possibly putting on a better show, with their jerseys hanging to their knees like dresses, than how we expected to perform. Being the only non-Kigali based player and having not been to practice during the week, I was not starting and there was not a uniform for me. As luck would have it Nancy Barry didn’t show and I got her jersey. Guess what? It was number 10, a number I’ve played with for years!! Love those types of coincidences. The stadium became very full as we sat in the dressing room, occasionally playing team-building games, stretching and kicking the ball around trying not to break any windows. The prime minister of Rwanda came by to say “hi!” and take photos and soon enough, it was our turn. I can’t tell you how delightful it was to be waiting under the stadium, peering out at the crowd and being advised by the coordinators to behave; “It’s like the World Cup! Must follow protocol!” Too funny. We ran a lap of the field, trying to play up to the crowd a bit since it was a charity event. Our competitors were the Women of Parliament- including none other than President Kagame’s wife Jeannette. We were strongly encouraged to not make contact with her on the field and further more, to make her look good. She is a very tall lady with a nice smile and a pleasant manner. I guarded her in the second half and we had some nice conversations, but more on that later.
Sitting out the first five minutes was unbearable, I wanted to be on the field!! Finally, it was my turn and I ran out to my spot on left wing. Within minutes I had the ball and a breakaway. It was called back because one of my team mates was offside. Second time out, I broke away again, dribbled inside the 18 yard box and let one go. The goalie blocked it but didn’t grab the rebound, I followed up and put it in the top left corner! It was sooooo much fun !
One of the coolest parts of the game was that my friend Christi had come down to watch me play. She was up in the bleachers cheering away- my own personal fan club! There were a few VSO there too and the atmosphere was so energizing! By half-time we were up 3-0. I had seven more breakaways that were all called back because one of our players insisted on hanging out by their goalie?! It reminded me very much of last summer and how much I dislike playing “recreational” sports. It’s competitive or not at all for me :)
At halftime I got a little talking to that we collectively needed to try less and make it look a little more even for the sake of the Parliamentary women. I volunteered to play centre defense for the second half. This required some creative performances as I mostly ran away from the attacking player who had the ball. At one point, I let Jeannette Kagame pass the ball through my legs!! It was kinda funny but the crowd reaction was worth it. Midway through the second, we realized that the Parliamentaries had brought on several new players, including a 14 year old boy from one of the previous games. He was like a mini-Ronaldinho and I don’t think I could’ve covered him if I had been trying !! Anyway, they caught up 3-3 and then the boy took a dramatic dive inside the 18-yard box. The President’s wife took and scored the penalty to a roaring ovation! It couldn’t have ended any better. After the game, photo ops and a bit of dancing on the field with both teams, I made a quick getaway to catch a very late bus back to Gitarama with my cheerleader/friend, Christi. The next day on the evening news, the lead story was the soccer match. My goal was featured in the highlights. Does life get much better than this?

"Bring a Tree to School" Day

No need to bore you with stories of my malaria, amoebas and typhoid. Here are some entertaining stories:
Last visit to Rubona Primary School, I witnessed children of all sizes dragging large branches and tree limbs along the road. Evidently, the school needs a new fence and each child was instructed to bring a tree with them as contribution- one of which came in handy when Pascal and I roofed my Frisbee. We used a tree branch as a reaching device to retrieve it.
Funniest moment in recent weeks had to be standing outside our neighbourhood shop and seeing a young boy running by at full speed, screaming as if all hell was breaking loose- followed momentarily by a few weeks old baby goat who was chasing him playfully!
There is a little boy in Primary 2 who squishes up his face each time he tries to catch the ball. Don't know if you can picture it, but try.
Last week's English Club had us reading letters aloud (we are hoping to find future penpals at Princess Anne French Immersion School in London, Ontario) and identifying adjectives, nouns, adverbs, etc in teams. Winning team got to do the Hokey Pokey with the teacher- major motivator!
Umuganda in September involved digging drainage ditches and moving piles of debris from one spot to the other. The obligatory volunteering on the last Saturday of each month continues to be something I really want to participate in and paid off ten-fold last week when we asked our Umudugudu leader Alphonse (the person responsible for our neighbourhood community) to assist us with an aggressive, unruly man. Alphonse came to our house, heard our story and said quite simply: "Give me two days". Problem solved. On a lighter note, one of the issues on the table at the monthly meeting was advising everyone NOT TO KEEP YOUR COW IN YOUR HOUSE. It is advisable to build a pen outside of the house to keep your cow and not to keep him in the house with you. I'm guessing theft plays a big role here, either that or a lack of hamsters available to keep as pets?!
Forgot to share this one awhile ago.. Karen and I were walking home one night from a friend's house in a thunderstorm (lightning and downpour included) and decided to pass by the empty market only to be met by two growling, fierce dogs feeding on something. Luckily we didn't run and they seemed to be more interested in protecting their feast than us. Still- quite frightening!
Dr. Suess where are you? Never have I wanted storybooks or novels more than here. The children at the primary schools and in particular my little friends in the neighbourhood seemingly have never had stories read to them. Wish I had packed less clothes and more children's storybooks!
Waterbottle bowling, Stella-ela-ola, rocket balloons, thumb wars, badminton, pingpong at the cultural centre... fun is mandatory! We affectionately refer to these impromptu games with the children as "Les Jeux Obligatoires". I make Emmanuel, my guard, participate. I don't think he minds. Last week, Emmanuel and his brother Silas played a quite competitive badminton match in our front yard. I found myself acknowledging that most likely they didn't play like this as children for at the age of 7 Emmanuel was seeing his parents killed in the genocide. I had the reluctant role of referee/scorekeeper. Even though it was in kinyarwanda, I could understand the nature of trashtalking and egging each other on. Emmanuel (also known as "Stretch") is about 3 feet taller than his older brother Silas. FYI: Silas is our new nightguard, Emmanuel has been promoted to dayguard/house manager.
Pingpong Moment: I bought a set of paddles and balls in Kigali once I learned that our neighbourhood Cultural Centre had a table. Took Jean-Pierre and the boys to play and after a few instructions and each boy taking a turn, we were surprised to have visitors. On a Wednesday afternoon, two middle-aged men pulled up on one moto, wearing Adidas tracksuits and carrying what looked like small tennis racket bags. In the miniature tennis racket bags were pingpong paddles and a proper net. They shared with me that they play competitive pingpong...EVERYDAY!! Too funny.
Found chocolate ice cream in Kigali. One scoop= one dollar. Awesome!
Rough days for sports equipment; the soccer ball, basketball and small purple ball I bought have all succumb to the rocky terrain and have burst. Thinking about replacing them soon though- "Ndashaka gukina football namwe!!" I hear every afternoon from the kids. Translated: "I want to play football with you!"
On the bus is where the majority of my greatest stories come from. For instance, returning from Kamonyi at 3pm, having not eaten since 6am, on a really hot day, dying of thirst- I asked one of the Rugubagoba boys if he had any water for sale. This particular boy greets me every time the bus stops there. He has one normal arm and one chicken wing and I spoke of him before as I was wishing he had another purpose besides begging at the bus. In any case, he always greets me and on this particularly sweltering day, I decided to take advantage. "Ufite amazzi?" (Do you have water?) He says: "300 francs" and I hand the coins out the window. He proceeds to run off and there is a mild chatter amongst my passengers who are amused that the foreigner is being ripped off by the street kid. "Wait. Just you wait" I say to the smirkers. The bus is being loaded, I look down the lane and don't see the boy. Then...just as we're about to pull away there he is, running as fast as his little feet can carry him, arm flailing in the wind. He rushes up to my window, big bright smile and hands me a waterbottle. I thank him, give him a small tip and look a little indignantly at my non-believing fellow passengers. I just knew he'd come back and he did.
Marie, the lady whose roof was caving in and who couldn't afford rent on her new residence and had asked us for money- has landed on her feet. She and her 10 month old son Jean-Paul have new dwellings and she has new employment. She looks really well. Something makes me wonder if we had given her the 7,000 francs, would she have solved the problem as well as she has? In any case, we have decided to have her over each Sunday afternoon. Last week, at our request, she brought Clementina with her. Clementina was sent to live with her grandparents awhile ago because her father was abusive to the family. We had a delightful visit- Clementina on her very best behaviour (nothing like a well-behaved 3 year old!) and Jean-Paul livening things up by touching/pulling/knocking over everything in sight- as only a ten month old can!
We are learning a lot more about our neighbours. Some of it good, some of it not. For instance, Fils (frowning boy) is an orphan. He lives in a small hut a few doors down from us, and he is 11 years old. It seems as though there isn't any family at all and the storeowner told us he has no parents. Surely SOMEONE is looking out for him?! Jean-Pierre (green sweater/basketball buddy) has no mother. He is often kept home from school to look after his father. Not sure if that's due to illness or drinking. And Serge (also known as Trouble #1 or Bandito) has no parents, just four older siblings, the eldest 14.
I think I knew there were hardships, I wasn't ignoring that. I just thought that these children, who play, laugh, offer hugs and are so charitable towards me, weren't suffering in that way. The most remarkable part of the story is that their neighbours and people completely unrelated to them, are looking out. While they may have very little food, one set of clothing and next to no material possessions- there is no shortage of love.
I think I'll end on that note.
Be well,
Becky

Finding Peace

Hi there. So "Malaria: The Sequel" was the alternate title of this blog entry but it wouldn't have accounted for the amoebas I also have at this time. I guess my previous blog must've had a tone in part because I wasn't feeling well. Quite disappointed that the volcano will have to wait till next year. Had a few hours of serious contemplation- considered using Karen's October 1st plane ticket to New York and catching a bus from there back to Toronto. Feeling unwell in a foreign country SUCKS!! In an effort to feel a bit better, I came to Kigali for the weekend and booked myself into a nice guest house, with hot water. I'm definitely feeling much better today and planning to head back to Gitarama in time to take the new volunteer to her first day of work Monday in Kamonyi. A second package arrived from home last week and really made my day :) Thanks Mom!
I'm guessing that most of you are back at school, getting into the swing of things.. learning names, establishing routines and going mildly crazy. I definitely am missing the classroom a bit and in particular the anticipation of the upcoming volleyball or basketball season. Because I'm in and out of schools here, it is harder to set up rapport with the kids. All things being equal though, a quick game of basketball or five minutes on the soccer pitch usually establishes a connection. I continue to be enthralled with the close bonds Rwandans seem to have with one another. Visiting the guest house where I spent my first month feels so comforting because Theo, Constantine and Emmanuel are quite friendly.
Not much more to report. I'm going to throw myself into work. The most rewarding times tend to be when I'm not sitting around thinking but am more or less engaged in my community. I hope I haven't worried anyone at home- it's never as bad as it sounds and I think is to be expected, living here. If it makes any difference.. this job fits me like no other. Walking in cold to a school of 2,000 students and 30 teachers to share/collaborate/experience each other's educational background, really connect by using my QDPA skills and cultivating enthusiasm in the school community- it's what I want to do.
For my Skype friends, I'm so sorry I missed the window of opportunity yesterday to chat with you. Will try again very soon. I can't tell you how helpful your support is- by phone, email or prayer. Thank you.

Contemplation/Assessment

Hi there. This past week has been a little less than perfect. A while back, the Mayor of my district quit. Now there is a major reschuffling in the district which means the Director and Charge of Education are no longer assuming these roles. It feels a bit like the past three months of "rapport-building" has just evaporated. The new volunteer has arrived. She will join me in Kamonyi District as an Education Manager and hopefully her enthusiasm and level of productivity will breathe new life into the office environment. In the meantime, I'll focus on getting out to more schools for first-time visits and building rapport with the staff, students and Headteachers.

On Monday, I volunteered to help the new recruits a bit with their ICT (In Country Training). Little did I know this would mean taking 15 people into town to do their shopping, virtually on my own. It was kind of fun, kind of stressful and brought back memories of my first few weeks in Kigali. It's amazing to think that my house, my neighborhood, this country- feels like home to me right now. It's also daunting to wonder about if/when I might return home. How much have I changed and how will I ever adjust to living in Canada again? It certainly encourages me to make things work here. This experience is a roller-coaster; the peaks and valleys are very high and very low.

In our neighborhood, the needs continue to outweigh the resources available. It is disheartening to see people each day in difficult situations, and to be virtually unable to assist them. We tried to offer Marie (little Jean-Paul's mother) a day's work in exchange for some money to help pay her rent but she didn't show up. I would like to buy my basketball buddy Jean-Pierre some new shoes because he wore right through his plastic sandals and is walking around barefoot, however, there are some 30 children in the neighborhood and it isn't feasible to clothe them all. There's more: the men at the bus park on crutches (missing most or parts of their leg) imploring, begging, negotiating for my change... the children in torn school uniforms rifling through the garbage bin.. and always there is Fils- the neighborhood boy with the creased forehead- always so serious, concerned, not carefree like a ten-year old should be.

These are the needs I see everyday in Gitarama. It is the second largest town in all of Rwanda. I can only imagine what the needs are in more rural, impoverished areas. It makes getting to know people difficult. In a parallel universe, my friend Valens (the man in the wheelchair by the bus stop) would be the star of some paralympics basketball team. He has an incredibly well-built upper body, but only a spindly, twisted lower half. The other day Valens was talking with another young man, roughly the same age, who was born without arms. How strange to see half of a man standing beside another half of a man?! There seems to be almost no program in place to provide assistance to the handicapped here. It is hard to see. I understand why the boy at the bus stop in Rugobagoba comes running to the window each day on my ride home to show me his deformed left arm and beg for change, but I can't help but think: Why can't he be shown that there is a world of possiblity out there for him? Why must he rely on begging and therefore diminishing his self-worth day in and day out? This boy has a smile that stretches ear to ear, is probably all of 13 years old and has no idea what his "ABILITY" is because he's only been taught to value his "DISABILITY". Rumor has it that there is a Special Needs school/care centre in Kamonyi with some children with Down's Syndrome. Although I know they exist, I have yet to see a child with Down's here- they are mostly hidden away. One day I think I'll visit this centre, perhaps I can volunteer an hour or so a week there. 

In a parallel universe, my tutor Deus (who has studied Albert Camus, Montaigne and other literature that I studied in 3rd year university), would be doing a masters' degree not biding his time, waiting for the two hours a week of employment he gets tutoring me. I wouldn't have strange ladies in the bank- strange, bad-breathed ladies- asking me for work. I wouldn't receive texts from people I met only once on the bus, detailing that they have a degree in computers and economics and would I find them a job please? Kate, the young lady who is writing her memoir with my help and her brother Alphonse who is teaching me to ride a moto-would be enjoying young adulthood, not caring for their younger siblings and writing stories about how their grandmother's throat was slit in 1994.

I know this blog is a little unsettling. I tend to write about the negative things when I'm feeling less positive. I have not felt 100% this week, but tomorrow we are heading up to Ruhengeri to climb Mt. Karisimbi and I hope to return from this trip feeling exhilirated. Karisimbi is Rwanda's highest volcano at an elevation of 4,500ft. It's a two day hike, complete with camping on the volcano and I'm really looking forward to it. We have two new houseguests (new VSOs) for awhile and I'm going to enjoy showing them around Gitarama and maybe feeding off of their "i've just arrived"/idealistic energies.

I should also write to you about Voisine and her gaggle of 12 year old girl-friends who want to borrow my sparkly nailpolish or about singing Ring around the Rosie with Clementina (the two year old with the crackly voice of a 90-year old chainsmoker) or about the little boy, who has cowered behind his mother instead of speak to me for the past three months, but who just last week decided that I'm now his friend and now greets me with smiles and a hug. Of course I should write to you about last week's visit to EP-Rubona where I took over the English Club for two hours. We did group work, trivia, listened to the new CD I acquired for them and did the Hokey-Pokey about half a dozen times !! I took some amazing pictures and when I have more time, I will upload them. Once again, the main theme of Rwanda is that you must take the good with the bad. Our water's been off for the past six weeks- this may be contributing to my grumpiness. However, unlike what I hear from home, the weather here is beautiful; sunny skies with a high of 28*C.

Be well friends, wish me luck with the volcano!

Becky

Tales of an African Classroom

Would you find it unusual to visit a school and find all of the teachers wearing white labcoats? Yeah, me neither. It’s par for the course here in Rwanda. I have been trying really hard to plan more school visits before the rainy season (mid-September) descends upon us and my commute becomes even more challenging. I am planning to use those rainy days to create lesson plans, make didactic materials (ie: visual aids out of rice sacks) and to possibly make a giant map of Kamonyi so that I can label the schools I’ve located to date.
The school I visited last week (with the labcoats), also had a Primary 6 class of 70 students. Yes, SEVENTY. Where in most cases, there is “double vacation” meaning students attend school either in the morning OR in the afternoon, this school has decided that more hours in the classroom means more learning. It is a lofty ambition but I wondered as I watched a lesson on Area/Perimeter, whether one teacher responsible for 70 students can actually teach effectively. I also remarked that I definitely prefer teaching the younger ones as the mustached boy in row 5 kept winking at me!
As I walked over to the second campus of this primary school, (they have two locations but are considered one school), I was greeted by about 500 primary kids. There isn’t any feeling more awkward than 1,000 eyes on you- well, except spending an hour observing a lesson on adverbs with a dozen wasps circling overhead. Yup, there are wasp nests in the rafters of this classroom. The teacher and students just disregard them and I tried to as well. It was a little harder to keep a straight face when the sounds of “clippity-clop, clippity-clop” were heard overhead as a goat had made it’s way on to the school’s tin roof.
My favorite part of that day was actually during the first 5 minutes of the Primary 4 lesson. The teacher was very progressive and had a full lesson plan prepared beginning with a warm-up song- (hey, I might not even be needed here, this is already child-centred learning, I thought to myself). He had the students sing “The animals go marching two by two, Hourrah, Hourrah”(*It is to be noted that due to the Rwandans common interchanging of the letters “L” and “R”, he was in fact singing “Houllah, Houllah”). The students had to pick a partner of the opposite gender and parade them around the room. Imagine my surprise when a four-foot nothing charming young boy, waltzed over to me and insisted that I be his partner for the Hourrah, Hourrah. I got quite the chuckle out of his bold assumption and proceeded to dance around the room quite contently. (Hey is that an adverb?)
It always amazes me, when I first visit a school and I’m on the yard with hundreds of little ones (P1-P3)-who are staring at me as if I have three heads- that one or two are courageous enough to walk up to me and shake my hand. I often wonder if this would be a good way to assess leadership ability. Why are some too afraid, too bashful, too insecure and others quite confident and self-assured? Needless to say, the three-headed red-haired mutant always smiles and says “Good morning!” which prompts about a dozen others to suddenly be struck by the boldness too. At lunch, watching the sea of children part as Emile made his way over to me on his moto with my escape vehicle was a bit of a welcome relief. This particular school is the largest one I will visit with a population of 2170 students and 38 teachers. I am heading back their tomorrow- wasps, Casanova eight year olds, labcoats and all.

August Notes

Okay, so Kampala was a month ago so I need to catch you up. The Italian roommate moved back to Italy and a few weeks later the American girl, Karen moved in. Now, Karen and I get along really well- plus she brought with her a small fridge and stove (this is life-changing news!!) We’ve taken to watching episodes of 21-Jumpstreet on her laptop in the evenings. She works for “Food for the Hungry” with our friends Christi and Tom. In about one week, we will be joined by another VSO named April who has come to work in Gitarama as an audiologist. I welcome the company and although some days the 2 hours of commute to Kamonyi is un-fun, I marvel at how lucky I am NOT to have to live in the remote area first suggested. The first week of August was still school holiday but I elected to work through it. (My four days in Kampala was vacation enough- there is work to be done!) I rented a moto and spent three hours driving around Kamonyi District trying to locate my 20 schools. Emile, my moto driver speaks only Kinyarwanda but we were able to locate 9 schools altogether- and one Black Mamba Snake!! Funniest part was, I was standing about 2 feet from it, remarking on how it looked like a long stick, or piece of rubber tire before I finally acknowledged, oh yeah, that’s a snake.. okay a pretty big, menacing looking one.. that’s okay it’s dead. I think in retrospect, had it been alive, the ending of this story would’ve been different. I snapped some pictures (it was on the playground of Shelli Primary School) and as you may or may not be able to tell, someone had taken a shovel and cut it into thirds. Aside from the occasional spider, our now FOUR ghecko housepets (yup Bill and Sally Ghecko have two young offspring now) and kitchen ants of various sizes, I haven’t actually had to deal with much African Wildlife.
Around August 8th, we said goodbye to one VSO girl who was returning to England, having completed her one year contract. I was so curious about how she felt to be leaving. Some VSOs are around university age and their year of volunteering is prior to entering the “real world”. Others are of the retirement age and they have the benefit of having completed their careers. There are only a handful who have chosen to break away from their current career to veer off into “volunteer world”. I’m finding I relate very well to Karen, Christi and Tom who work for FH- we are all the same age. Luckily, I am also finding that the need to lean on or seek advice from people has lessened. (I really value my independence so this is a welcome relief). There are far less emergencies, queries or concerns and those that do come up, I can try to resolve or absorb myself. The upside to these friendships are the regular convening of meals/poker night/movie night or trips into Kigali together. The highlight of these experiences may have been two Saturdays ago when one VSO from Ireland celebrated his 50th birthday at an Indian restaurant with 80% of all VSO volunteers living in Rwanda in attendance. It was nice to meet up with so many friends I’d come across during my first few months here. In the context of the group dynamic though, the people who arrived together definitely have a tight bond. I’m a little envious of that. There are 15 new volunteers who’ve just arrived yesterday and they are receiving a 10-day orientation. I reflect somewhat on my turbulent beginning and am grateful to have landed smoothly here in Gitarama with such a nice group of friends. Okay, next blog will include details of the golfball-sized bumblebees, the bat colony in Shyogwe and the goat on the roof of the Primary 4 classroom during a lesson on adverbs! Haha, life is never dull here.

Kampala! Kampala!

For the record, I was quite nervous to travel to Kampala but the opportunity presented itself and off I went. At the bus station in Kigali, the vendors are constantly calling: "kampala! kampala!" and asking if you want to go there. This time, yes. The trip itself is 10 hours by bus and costs twelve dollars. The border is about 1 and a 1/2 hours from Kigali and you know you're in Uganda because it has a much less cultivated landscape and is much flatter. During the bus ride, we drove through their National Park. I kept imagining that the rocks on boulders were actually lions or wildebeasts.... but they were actually just rocks on boulders. I did see antelopes and some crazy water-buffalo looking things with massive horns. Okay, and the birds of Uganda are massive !! There is a picture on my blog- honestly, they look like they consume small men for breakfast! The terrain out the window is much wilder, whereas in Rwanda, it is a patchwork, quilt pattern of land; every inch of which is being farmed for food. I ate a brochette served up at the bus window and arriving in Kampala, immediately noticed how crowded and busy the streets were. It makes no sense to own a car in Kampala because it's constantly bumper to bumper traffic. There are many more street kids but far less amputees. And no signs depicting memorials or tributes to the genocide. The parliament building is an imposing structure, and I just happened to be reading "The Last King of Scotland" while on my trip. Idi Amin's persona wouldn't fit inside that huge parliament building !
On day one, I decided to hit the markets and the shopping mall. It felt so strange to be inside "Mr. Price" (like a Zellers), trying on clothes after four months of not shopping. I actually didn't buy a thing, I just felt really out of place. I did find a great bookstore, reminiscent of a Chapters. During my four days in Kampala, I had no idea how much a shilling was, but had predetermined a set amount of money when I exchanged it at the forexe. There were Bata shoe stores, but unfortunately my size is in between their 3 and 4 so no shoes for me :( I'm still keen to find a pair of running shoes as mine have worn almost completely through. The local markets in Kampala have much more than Kigali or Gitarama markets and I'm soon shopping happily admist the skirts and dresses.
Altogether, I find that making my way around Kampala (mostly on foot because the motos don't provide helmets) is much easier than expected and other than keeping one hand on my handbag and remembering to look the "other way" before crossing the street, it is far more comfortable than I anticipated and my nervousness dissipates quickly. Among the highlights of my time in Kampala are eating pizza (twice!!), going to the movies (some John Travolta movie) with popcorn, stumbling upon a craft market steps from my guest house on the last day, taking the bus out to Entebbe to see Lake Victoria, hiring a moto to drive me to several churches, mosques and cathedrals and finally the knowledge that I'm capable of travelling by myself.
When I do arrive back in Rwanda, it is like coming home. There is a certain appeal to being somewhere familiar and the culture of Rwandans is such that, if I ever needed anything I wouldn't have to wait long for help from someone. Case in point: arriving back at the Kigali bus station, I have to wait over an hour and a half for a bus back to Gitarama- my final destination. After ten hours of travelling, I am exhausted, in need of a shower and some food and contemplating catching a moto back home because I don't want to wait. The bus attendant, flags down a near-full bus and waves me over. She's found room for me on this one, I only had to wait 15 minutes of the alloted 90 minutes. I gratefully shake her hand and head home.
There are some plans to return to Uganda in a few months to whitewater raft the Nile. I'm sure I'll enjoy that trip too, but there will be something sacred about this little jaunt I did on my own.
Oh yeah, and I found a bag of Lay's potato chips in Kampala's Nakumatt. Cradled that thing all the way home like precious cargo. Salt and vinegar- YUM !

Unicef

Unicef- let's backtrack momentarily so I can share my experience with my teacher friends. VSO asked if any volunteers wanted to help Unicef run a child-centre methodology workshop in support of their "Child Friendly Schools" Campaign here in Rwanda. Me and Chris (another VSO) said yes and during the school break, spent five days working with Unicef. The first thing I noticed was what a difference international funding makes. Unicef is located in downtown Kigali, steps from the American Embassy and the Ministry of Education headquarters in a bright, blue, tall office building complete with security checkpoints and air-conditioning. We met with the staff, including a dynamic leader from Bangladesh who was spear-heading the campaign, Kamal. We drafted a plan for the three day workshop and quickly learned that Chris and I would be responsible for 8 workshops each. The training took place at a primary school on top of Mount Jali 45 minutes outside of Kigali. The bus ride in was bumpy, dusty and rural (is that an adjective?). We left at 7am and arrived to meet 40 or so participants. Most were primary school teachers but some were representatives from the NCDC (national curriculum development) or ADRA (disability program) or KIE, ULK and TTCs (teacher training colleges). We quickly ascertained that this workshop would be unlike our VSO-modestly-funded training workshops.
Over the next three days, we presented, collaborated, taught and learned from one another. The Head Unicef guy had arranged a "teacher motivation song" to be sung intermittedly throughout the workshop. It worked !
Day one, we introduced the idea of teaching to multiple intelligences and Chris role-played a typical old-fashioned teacher who stands at the front with chalk and is demanding of student participation. I got to be the "fun" teacher and modeled the same subject matter (parts of the body as it was decided) using song and Simon says. Guess which teacher was more popular? We then presented stations with activities, each modeled after the 9 multiple intelligences. For you "non-teacher" types- these are visual/spatial, kinesthetic, logical/mathematical, musical (for example: individually, we each have one or two types of learning styles that are our strong points- I am visual-kinesthetic). I ran the math centre and ANA LIMBEROPOULOS... I used the probability game with the spinners ! We made roulette wheels, predicted the likelihood of the paper clip spinning to a stop on green/blue/pink/yellow and then compared the results of our ten spins to our estimations. The kinesthetic workshop was run by Bruce outside- a version of Ship to Shore. And so forth. This was followed up with each group designing a brief lesson plan implementing one or more of these learning strategies and presenting them to the group.
Day two involved making didactic material- as much as possible. And while we had many resources like construction paper, markers, glue and paint that we often don't have at VSO workshops, there was still a time limit to what we could make. However, both Chris and I happen to be quite creative. We made a mini-market using modelling clay, leaf art, musical instruments, texture drawings, windmills, science experiments and posters on rice sacks. A workshop was presented on lesson plans, on what consitutes a "child-friendly" school, on tower-building, on problem-solving, we sang the alphabet song, went on a "Lion Hunt" with song, did math with tangrams, played snakes and ladders, made Big Books and basically, on twelve hour days, accomplished a lot !
Day three was the culmination of everything. The materials we created were then replicated by the teachers. I ran a science workshop. **For the record, it is ironic that I got to run the math and science workshops as I'm more of an arts and language person.* Anyway, again PRIMARY TEACHER COLLEAGUES.. I showed the teachers how you can do art/science with found objects. We did texture drawings and leaf art and made sailboats out of waterbottles and did brown bag riddles describing animal characteristics. It's amazing to me that my years at PAFI have really provided me with a bank of knowledge.
At the end of Day 3, there was a big showcase of our new resources. The teachers had also been given material and were shown how to make their own pocket charts. Basically exactly like we have at home from Scholar's Choice for word walls and math manipulatives but with fabric sewn together into 200 little pockets. Representatives from the President's office (yup, Kagame!) were there along with the Director of Unicef, members of the Ministry and many other important looking people. There were many speeches and then we had enlisted a few of the keener teachers to present the resource room themselves, in other words, rather than us the trainers explaining how the math/probability game works, Ivan and Gilbert presented it to the Ministry guys. This is how to see if your teaching was effective too.
Finally, the workshop ended with the singing of the special song and then each person in the room receiving a candle. The headteacher of the school we were at lit hers and then we passed the light along, finally ending with the Ministry of Ed dude. The teachers read a pledge about promising to make their schools more child-centred. It was actually quite a moving, if exhausting, three days. Because it was my first workshop, ever, in Rwanda, it was kind of neat to have helped run such a successful one. A week later, we met for a follow-up debrief kind of meeting and then a big dinner at Unicef, during which our Country Director and Education Program Manager attended and learned about what the workshop and the goal of the Unicef program was all about. In 2007, there were 22 child friendly schools in Rwanda and by next year there will be 144 active child friendly schools, including 7 in my district !! Unicef wants to partner with VSO, so this could mean I help with many more similar workshops. What a fabulous learning experience ! Also, the Head Unicef guy wrote a letter to our Country Director as he was quite pleased about VSO's contribution to the workshop.
Well, just yesterday, I received a text message from Seraphine, one of the teachers involved in the workshop. She just wanted to tell me that she was using some of the games she had learned in the workshop in her classroom now.
Well, school term officially resumes on Monday. I have worked through most of the holidays- Unicef, training in Nyamata with Elspeth and going to Kamonyi sporadically. This week I actually went to Kamonyi, rented a moto guy for 3 hours and had him drive me around in search of my 20 schools. We successfully found, photographed and added to my map- 9 schools in that one afternoon! My backside still hasn't recovered from 3 hours on the moto...haha! My weekend in Kampala was a great mini-vacation, I must admit. I have big goals for the upcoming weeks. Unfortunately, here, making big plans is a little redundant. It is advisable to focus on the day to day instead. Yeah, tell that to the innate-core-of-my-being, task-driven, personality-trait that is determined to set goals and accomplish them. It's like swimming upstream- haha. I'll adjust.
Cheerio!
Becky

Ooh La La Moto Driver and Rocket Balloons

This morning I was in Kamonyi quite early (7am) and after mounting the moto (yes they require a specific mount/dismounting mastery) the driver hit a bump and literally used the term "Ooh La La". Cracked me up big time :) Among other charming moments of the past few days, I brought badminton to the neighbourhood kids. Fils, the boy I told you about in the last blog, momentarily resembled a typical ten year old boy. The creased forehead disappeared and was replaced by giggling and a wide smile. He was quite a pro too ! After that, it was rocket balloons. There were maybe 20 kids in total and watching them watch the balloons zip across the sky, was worth the 3 dollars the balloons cost.

I keep seeing things on the bus and thinking, I should blog about it but then forgetting to. Like, in the trees, are man-made beehives. They are rolled up like bundles of wood and then placed very high. They're everywhere. Also, most trees have have their bark stripped off. Just an observation. The level of CO2 emissions here is incredible. Dark, black puffs of exhaust from trucks, buses and motos combined with dirt being stirred up from the unpaved road makes breathing interesting some days. It's really humid right now too. I'm sure it'll improve in the rainy season.

I am eagerly anticipating the arrival of a new volunteer who will work in my district. The dynamics of the office, my commute and my workplan will all change from it being just me to being part of a mini-team. I am excited about this. The Italian leaves on Friday. They've paved the main road in Gitarama with tarmac. I received my first letter from London, Ontario from one of my favorite former students ! What a nice treat ! We had the first annual Gitfest on Saturday (Gitarama Festival) and everyone had to dress up in costumes acquired from the market. I went as a hippie. There are photos tagged on Facebook. Our water returned this morning after ONE WEEK of having no water. I've met a South African guy who works with JAM (another NGO) and he has running water so I took advantage and borrowed the shower there.

I'm beginning to get a bit of a travelling bug. I hear stories from people who have been to Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania, even Ethiopia and think perhaps I can plan some trips too. I will keep you posted.

The weekend after next I have been invited to two weddings. One is a guy from the guest house I lived in the first month I was here, Emmanuel. In other news, Fulgence (remember I watched his law dissertation at ULK?) lost his sister on Saturday- she drowned in Lake Kivu. It is terribly sad however his friend Theo (also a guest house employee) just had a baby girl with his wife. It was a bad news, good news kind of day.

I have started running. I think the fact that I waited a few months to get acclimitized was a good idea. The runs here are planned based on which route will draw the least amount of gawkers. I try to run early in the morning as it's cooler. This is all a plan to get ready for Kili in November.

On the work front, I am on my way this afternoon to Nyamata to help another VSO with her Primary Methodology Training Workshops. It will be extremely helpful to me also. Unicef wrote a very kind letter to the VSO Office singing our praises and I have also passed my resume along to the Director for future consideration. OH ! I found a New England Patriots T-Shirt for 2 dollars in the market. Awesome ! And I have discovered chocolate ice cream for 1 dollar here in Kigali- there's hope yet...

Little things continue to irk me though, like the cap of my hand soap dispenser won't pump, or the domestic making food enough for 6 when it's just me (I hate the idea of wasting food), I have worn a hole straight through the heel of my only sandals, moto drivers and ladies in the market still feel inclined to rip the "muzungu" off with extortionate prices, our power cuts sometimes interfere with things like cooking or cut in the middle of Kerry's surprise party on Monday night so the laptop dies and there's no music and day to day household maintenance can (if you let it) occupy most of the day. I have laundry down to a science (it's a Saturday morning activity). I still hate the food here. Three neighbours yesterday solicited me for a) food b)money to finance the opening of her store and c) my English Language/Kinyarwanda book. Caterpillars are my new nemesis- DID YOU KNOW THEY BITE? And the other night ( no joke! ) there was a dog, or possibly werewolf, outside my gate, growling viciously for about an hour. I swear he must've shred a goat or something in the process or was suffering major irritability. We have bats too. They are just squeaky, I thought at first they were rats and I'm actually relieved because I think I prefer bats to rats.

Well, I'll leave you with some funny questions I've gotten recently.

"Do your freckles hurt?"

And then there's Bruce's classic encounter of a student asking him this existential question:

"Why am I?"

I like this one of me saying to the kids I'd be right back as I returned to the house to get more balloons mid-play yesterday and Peter yells after me: "Run!"

And on the shortcut route to the main road from my house, there is an older lady I pass who is always sitting on her mat, sometimes preparing food or working on handicraft. I have tried to engage her in conversation using my Kinya/French/English/Charades combo and she looks at me and laughs hysterically. It's not in a manner that makes me feel embarassed. I feel like I'm her days entertainment. She has such a grand belly laugh and I wonder, with the location of her house being hidden away along this path, perhaps I'm a little welcome distraction for her. Either way, I love it.

Maybe the highlight of the week would be having little Rhia sit on my lap and try to pick at my sparkly nailpolish, after I had decided that spinning was a fun game I had needed to sit down for a moment to gather myself :) I really hope to acquire more Kinyarwanda because my experiences with the kids are so limited by my lack of language. They don't speak French, or have only had a year or so in school. Charades come in handy. I have learned to say "You are my friend" and "May God bless you".

Well, off to find a bus to Nyamata. Would love to hear how everyone is doing at home. Can you believe it's almost August ?!!

Take Care,

Becky

This country will break your heart

This blog is not for the sensitive reader.
The past two phone calls home to David and to Shannon have made me realize that there are alot of unpleasant things I'm seeing/experiencing here that are going unprocessed. I'm going to (with hesitation) share some of them with you. I'll use point form, easier for me, easier for you.
*Street kid projectile vomiting on the street. Nobody stops to help. He looks scared and unsure of what's happening to him but just continues walking when he's through.
*That's not jam down the front of the baby's shirt on the bus. Her mom is patting her mouth with a napkin but it's not much use. The baby is vomiting blood, clearly quite ill.
*Same man every day, missing a leg (and wearing a Backstreet Boys t-shirt) asks me for money. It's been 6 weeks and I always give him the same response. Tomorrow he'll ask again.
*At the Kigali bus stop, there is a man missing the entire lower half of his body. He is maybe in his 30s. He comes on the bus to panhandle. Like the old lady with a stump for a hand or the orange hat guy with no leg or the peanut salesman in a wheelchair or the lady by the telephone pole on the way to Bruce's with contorted ankles or the scruffy, hungry street kids, he is greeted by me with the same few Kinyarwanda expressions I know and a wish for better fortune to come his way.
*An hour ago, I watched my little soccer buddy Peter getting beat up by two older men on our street. I wasn't sure if they were just roughhousing but it became clear soon they weren't. Three neighbourhood ladies intervened verbally but that didn't stop it. I walked home, hoping maybe I could bring Erick (the shopowner) out to help the situation. Five minutes later, Peter passed by, in tears but trying to be stoic. As my blog title says, this country will break your heart.
*Saturday was Umuganda, the mandatory volunteering day. I helped pave the road in front of the house. A town hall style meeting followed, which I attended-assisted by translation by Destin. Problems ranged from prostitution issues in the area to a borrowed cell phone that had been dropped down a latrine. The government has started a vulnerable children's screening so the neighbourhood is asked to identify neglected or malnourished kids in the area. I watched "Fils", Peter's friend, stand by himself in front of 60 men and women and tell them he needed help. I thought Fils was a neighbour's child. He always plays soccer with us, and although he is dressed in the same t-shirt everyday, that didn't strike me as unusual. He has what I call a "creased forehead" meaning he wears an expression of worry that causes a wrinkle in between his eyebrows. He is very sweet to speak to though. I was devastated at him having to identify himself- he can't be more than 10 years old !
*A lady stood up and said she was taking care of her friend's son, as her friend had recently passed away from AIDS. She also has it and is worried that if she gets sick, the child won't be looked after. Another lady stood and said she had taken in a street child but had no means to support him.
I was struck by the community's approach to caring for each other. Other grievances were aired, mostly security, littering and border/property line issues. Each month they meet on the grass of the hill by my house and speak to each other about their needs and how they can be there for each other. I knew there was poverty and there's quite obviously challenging situations here but I don't think I realized how deep they ran. It's hard to think of JeanBaptiste, Peter and Fils as anything more than my soccer buddies with big smiles. How many other people that I see everyday are going home to a lack of food and basic necessities? And how, tell me how, do they continue to smile, laugh and pray each day?
Okay, so I won't leave you with this. I have a few other frustrations that are quite comical. Might lighten the mood a little. By comical I don't mean "funny haha".. I mean "funny-laugh-a-couple-of-days-later".
I bought a bottle of Head and Shoulders Shampoo at twice the price, just as a treat for myself. Brought it home to find out it is a watered down version of the local shampoo- not H and S at all!
My soccer ball lasted two weeks, it is now deflated :( I think it's the rocky ground, need to start collecting plastic bags so I can fashion an african-style soccer ball.
Our water has been off for 3 days ! I am desperate for a shower that is not out of a bucket !
Power went out last week while I was sitting in the cold bath. Pitch black, sitting in an ice cold tub. You have to laugh at yourself, don't you?
My electric stove died last week. The kerosene stove that VSO gave me has no wick in it. Charming, eh? Have half a charcoal stove but left it outside in a (very surprising and out of season) thunderstorm so the charcoal got soaked. The water filter nozzle is broken too.
None of these things are a big deal. Things break. Things stop working. You plan meetings with people and they don't show up or show up at 2pm instead of 9am. I know I need to increase my patience and exercise my flexibility. I know that, but...
There are other things that fall under the "cultural sensitivity" framework that I find myself questioning whether or not I should have to compromise on. Due to the massive amount of unemployment in the country, there are many groups of men just "hanging around". Often you see women working in the field with babies on their backs or carrying jerrycans full of water on their heads and groups of men lounging under a tree. Not a blanket generalisation, although it sounds that way. I've met and worked with some amazing men, teachers, headmasters and see men doing road construction (with a pickaxe, I realize how hard that is, reminds me of my Habitat for Humanity build). The headteacher of Rubona is quite a keen, enthusiastic and intelligent colleague. The Unicef head is very articulate and well educated and determined to make a difference. I guess where I'm going with this is, I don't like being hassled by these bored randoms. There is a bar I must pass on my way to and from my house and at 7am, there are a dozen or so men getting started on their "day". Enough said. Not to worry- (mom and dad) this is a safe and wonderful country. I have lots of great friends and my neighbours are kind and loving.
Last anecdote: yesterday (Sunday) at 6:30am I got a phone call from the headteacher of my model school. He just wanted to see how my day was. I told him that at 6:30 AM ON A SUNDAY, my day had not yet started !!
Miss everyone and am wishing you well. Thank you for sharing this adventure with me, the good and the not so good. Just remember that after the negative incident this morning with Peter and the two men, something wonderful will happen this afternoon. That's how things work here.
Be well,
Becky

Blogger's Block

Okay, I haven't blogged in three weeks and now I have too much to tell you so I have writer's block. An idea from my friend Meghan's blog is to ask me questions (by email preferrably: rebeccajyoung@live.com) which I can then answer on my blog.
Here is a quick version of what I've been up to the past few days.
I gave the sermon at Mama's church. Topic: Random Acts of Kindness. I really enjoyed speaking to and interacting with the kids. I'm trying hard to learn names and someday I hope to know the Kinyarwanda verses to some of the songs they sing. This Sunday morning tradition continues to be a real spirit-lifter and I am going to make it a priority each week.
I visited my domestic Delphine's house on an invitation to attend her little brother's first communion. There, I also tried sorghum and banana beer- yuck ! I met about 40 or so relatives and one eccentric uninvited guest who ended up being quite entertaining (re: " a little off") and was well tolerated by the guests. Delphine lives about an hour's hike up in the hills of rural Gitarama.
I watched a fascinating concert at Orion Nightclub in which most of the hip-hop stars lip-synched to a recorded track. The star of the show was "The Ben" (his hip-hop name) and man could he dance !
I finally hosted my Canada Party-ironically on July 4th. The irony was not lost on our British friend Tom who decided to wear an American flag t-shirt. My friends were put through the paces of some of my best game ideas. We played waterbottle bowling with a football (did you know footballs don't roll?), musical chairs, had a Canadian Flag drawing competition, "Truth or Dare" Jenga, a blindfold/spin/can you find the wall game, waterballoon volleyball (in which karma paid a visit and Tom was the only one to get soaked!) and finally Canadian Trivia. I have to say, I thought the question "Can you name a Canadian Prime Minister, ANY Canadian Prime Minister?" was one of the easier ones, but the British, American, Phillipino and Irish participants were stumped. Too funny.
On actual Canada Day, I passed around a bunch of balloons to the neighbourhood kids. It was really fun to see their reactions and explain why Canada had a birthday on July 1st. I even caught some adults joining in the fun. Besides the great comraderie of the day and feeling proud to be Canadian, a true highlight of this event was asking the neighbourhood kids to help me decorate my front gate with chalk art. We wrote "I love Canada" and "I love Rwanda" and soon the gate was covered. I collected all of the chalk back- or so I thought. A few days later, I started to notice little additions of writing in small blank pockets on the gate. Now, at home you would think that vandalism by kids under 12 would result in some embarassing or slightly inappropriate language/pictures. This is what my gate said in children's handwriting: "We love you Rebecca. We are all family. We are all friends." This little story captures the spirit of what it's like living in Rwanda.
The rest of the 2nd week was a little tough as I was sick again. I'm completely recovered and am eating my veggies/taking my Vitamin C hoping to avoid feeling that way again.
Now, UNICEF. I was fortunate enough to have the good sense to say "yes" when the VSO Office asked for a few volunteers to help Unicef run a workshop on active, child-centred methodology. This led to having my best week in Rwanda to date. We ran a workshop for four days to support Unicef's initiative of creating "Child-Friendly Schools". I will be preparing a longer blog and posting more pics about this at a future date. I think what I love best about being here, is the nature of my work. Bridging the gap between the traditional style of "chalk and talk" teaching and my preferred method of QDPA- making learning fun- style of teaching is fascinating. I had teachers making leaf art, texture sketching, playing Simon says, making musical instruments from found materials, playing Ship to Shore, singing the alphabet song- while including an emphasis on cross-curricular lesson planning. I remember when I first became a teacher and I felt inspired by the role of being a teacher. I'm so glad that feeling has returned. I am so passionate about this kind of work.
Well, I think I've covered about 25% of what's happened here in the last 3 weeks. As always, there are far too many stories, and far too few moments I can run to the Internet cafe.
Hope all is well and everyone is 100% into their relaxing summer routines.
Be well,
Becky

Salty Apple Juice

Alright folks, buckle up, it's been an interesting week.
I'll go back to chimp trekking and work from there. So, I cut trekking short because I was ill. I was disappointed at not seeing any chimps, gutted about quitting the hike (uncharacteristic of me) and finally devastated to learn that I couldn't find a way out of Nyungwe Forest as our driver had locked the keys in the car and my friends would be hiking for 3-4 more hours. I contemplated hitching or paying massive amounts for a moto ride back to town but finally opted to sit down quietly and think. Voila ! After our driver tried every nook and cranny with a wire hanger (it was actually quite funny watching him jam that thing into the windshield, the door frame, the bottom of the door- only to have me show him what all Macgyver fans know, you must insert the wire hanger in such a way as to lift up the lock from inside the window) he finally opened the door to retrieve his keys from the ignition. I still had to wait 4 hours for the girls, which was tricky. Four days of trying to nurse the flu with oranges, apples, Vitamin C capsules, self-diagnoses and rest later, two very good friends took me to the clinic where a quick finger prick revealed I had malaria. Not so bad, apparently lots of people get it. Took the meds and some antibiotics just to give it the boot. Rough weekend, returned to the doctor, switched the malaria meds, felt better for a day and then... wait for it...a case of food poisoning. Now, if I had to choose- not sure you get to choose, but if I could, I'd take the malaria. The food poisoning was about 2 and a half days of violent, painful vomiting. Okay, so here's the silver lining. On Monday, the day I returned from chimp trekking feeling very ill and vulnerable, my roommate, my guard and my domestic all turned up at my house. I can't describe to you what it feels like to wake up at 6pm with a fever to discover the power is out, you have no running water and you're alone. Then, as you make your way to the back door, you see two people huddled around a makeshift charcoal fire roasting you corn. (*I think God puts certain people in your path at certain times.) Likewise, when I became quite ill the following week, several friends championed around me, taking me to the doctor- one even slept overnight on my floor ! I am blessed.
So, here we are on Monday, June 29th and I am feeling much better. I have missed the Queen's Birthday bash at the British Embassy, Steve's party in Kigali, Tiga's goat roasting in Butare and postponed my own Canada Day celebrations. Insert Eeyore's face here :( However, I figure I am just getting the worst experiences out of the way first, so the next 10 months will be smooth sailing !
A few comical moments can be relayed here:
In an effort to rehydrate, I literally poured salt into a glass of apple juice !! When I started to feel a little better, I went for short walks.
On one walk, I ran into a bunch of kids from the Misericorde- the local special needs school. Amazingly, we began to communicate in American Sign Language. I don't know who enjoyed that more, me- who only knows how to sign from teaching my grade 2's every March, or them- probably a little shocked to see a muzungu and then to be able to communicate with her too!
On another walk, I asked a 13 year old boy if he liked school and his answer was classic: "I like school medium". I think most 13 year olds would agree with that statement.
A few days ago I spent nearly an hour boiling water in an effort to take a hot bath- (at that point I would've traded my left kidney for a comforting warm bath!) only to realize you'd need a lot more than that to heat the water in the tub.
Wondered briefly if ants were protein? I am still very challenged by the whole food situation here. I've dropped 25+ pounds in two months. It's mostly carbs- rice, potatoes, bananas, pasta, fruit and veggies and all the walking up and down hills keeps it off. I'm not complaining- would actually highly recommend the combination of Rwanda + illness as a successful diet. Just want to find a sustainable approach to eating. I am going to be here a year.
It never fails that the bus stop is by far the most interesting place for stories. Catching a late bus back from Kigali last week, a man was prosthelitizing about Jesus through the back window- at the top of his lungs. A quick glance to the woman beside me revealed that, yes, she too thought he was nuts!
Another bus ride back from Kigali, we listened to a local soccer game. Not just any soccer game- several stars of the English Premier League were playing the Rwandan National Team at Amahoro Stadium. Pretty cool ! Listening to the commentator shout "Drogba! Drogba! Drogba!" while exchanging notes with the man to my right as to whether all this excitement/Kinyarwanda chatter meant a goal or not and discussing that Rwandan really needed to place 3 defenders on Didier Drogba was tons of fun !
Every Tuesday there is "Gachacha" which means court is in session and all of Gitarama is shut down. So, power is out, water is off and all the stores are closed. If I want to make it to work I have to catch a very early bus because after that the town is dead. I know the trials are very important, but I have to say that economically it makes no sense to have the entire town shut down and have people hang around all day so frequently! The past 4 Tuesdays the entire town has shut ! I'm a little biased because it's a HUGE inconvenience. There are also many days of commemoration but that's different as there are ceremonies and speeches and understandably we want to be respectful of that. I guess I just need to adapt and be more sensitive.
I watched Gorillas in the Mist and Hotel Rwanda last week. I am now reading Dian Fossey's book. I plan to visit the gorillas next year. It is cheaper with a green card and I haven't gotten around to that yet. Really want to see my friend Patrick in Tanzania at the end of July and VSO friend Crystal who is working there as a nurse but the logistics are becoming very challenging and I might abort.
The last Saturday of every month is Umuganda. This means that in the morning, EVERYONE is obliged to volunteer. Yup, mandatory volunteering. Contrary to gachacha, I really respect this tradition. On my street, all the neighbours were busy repairing the road with shovels, hoes and wheelbarrows of dirt. I respect the idea of volunteering so much, that as I walked home from my friend's house at 7:30am, still a little woozy on Saturday morning from the illness, I decided to get my guard's hoe and try to pitch in. It was a little comical as I had no energy but I made a few friends and after about 15 minutes called it in. The neighbours knew I had been sick and the one guy said I got "partial points" for coming out while decreeing that "in Canada you have machines that do this for you." Next month, I will make sure I put in the whole morning's work.
Having my basketball/hiphop buddy ask me to get him a VISA is a real bummer. Having my buddy the landlord's nephew ask me to help him with his store is also a bummer. Returning from a long day at work, after a long commute to have a forty year old man say "Muzungu! Amafaranga!" absolutely sucks ! (That means- whitey, give me your money! although it's generally not completely as offensive as it sounds. I just think that as an older gentleman he should know better. I expect it from the kids).
So I'm guessing there's a bit of a tone to this blog. I'm a little worn out. In the past few days I have skyped or phone several people from home and it is quite a spirit-lifter. David and Leah, Will and Shannon I am so grateful for your support- you have no idea. Also, yesterday in Gitarama I had one of the most charming experiences since coming to Rwanda- spending the day at the Urukondo Foundation Home for Children, where I go to church each Sunday. We attended a baby-naming ceremony where 4 newborns were christened with names. I also played basketball and soccer with kids- haven't laughed like that in weeks !!) I will blog about it soon but right now it still feels like a private moment, I'm not quite ready to share. Also, I can't find the right words.
Well, friends, Happy Canada Day, Happy Summer Holidays, Ana have an AMAZING time in Hawaii, David good luck with your talk today, Shannon take a day off work already. Miss you and think of you all often.
Becky