A bang not a whimper

What's it like to leave Rwanda? Bittersweet. For the past few weeks I've been saying goodbyes. There was the party at EP-Rubona where I gave five speeches. Each teacher spoke, the sector head and pastor spoke, the Headteacher gifted me an Agaseke basket and I shared that day with Emmanuel who had come with me to start painting the mural. Cyriaque had the reference letter, the evaluation and the goal setting chart completed which is a really positive development. My 22 posters and bags of didactic math material were in a box in the corner of the staffroom. Bittersweet. I had a very good meeting with the Country Director last week where we debriefed about a lot of things- most of which never saw airtime on this blog. I gave a binder of handover notes to my co-worker so that the next volunteer in Kamonyi will have some reference material. The Art Club t-shirts arrived, a few sizes too big but I like knowing that someday down the line, those shirts'll end up in the market or recycled around Rwanda. Even though it won't be continuing in the manner I'd hoped, it's a good feeling that it existed and the t-shirt can attest to that. Leaving means doing everything "one last time"; last mzungu dinner, last moto ride, last trip into Kigali to run errands, last visit with VSO staff, last moments with JeanPierre, Emmanuel, Media, Marie.. I had a wonderful experience last night at Procar's alimentation. Procar and Methode are pictured at right. Since day one in Gitarama, Procar was the kindest storeowner and he soon became my go-to shop and then my friend. He hosted a party for me last night and in attendance were all my favorite local friends. Kate, who wrote her book with me, Alphonse, my moto teacher, Deus my kinyarwanda tutor, Destin and his family-our neighbours, the 20 or so Art Club favourites, Denise- Karen's friend, Louise and Bruno and Joseph- Christi's friends, Eric and Cadette from the bar, my mzungu friends, Emmanuel and JeanPaul and Scholastique and my former domestique Delphine, Marie and little JeanPaul...it was a moving an emotional evening. Speeches and gifts were given, there were hugs and a few tears. I have to recount what Destin said to me: "Go home and greet your father, Rebecca. Tell him thank you for putting you into this world." When I went this morning to pick up some groceries, Procar gave me a DVD with pictures from last night's events set to music. It was really touching.
This morning I visited Marie at her store and gave her some clothes. She gave me an Agaseke basket (if you're counting that's 5 so far). I visited JeanPierre one last time, he had two Cokes ready for me and I gave him my fuzzy blanket and a globe to show him where Toronto is in comparison to Gitarama. Bittersweet; hard to walk away from that one. Hopefully I can correspond through letters and packages but realistically it will be difficult to keep in touch- language barriers and time won't be kind to our relationships. I do envision returning to Rwanda one day and I picture walking down my old street- maybe it will be a few years from now and the children will have grown (and learned English!) I have given my guard Emmanuel strict instructions to check in on the boys from time to time and see if Marie needs anything. (I know he'll do it.) She actually filled the basket with beans for me. I felt like telling her "No, save them. Sell them. Don't give them to me" when Emmanuel patiently pointed out that she was giving me a blessing and I should let her.
Maybe when I visit EP-Rubona Emmanuel will still be teaching- he has taught for 40 years and in fact used to teach the Headteacher Cyriaque at one point. Will Daniel be training others in methodology? Will Claude and Francois and Fils and JeanPierre still be the polite, sweet and kind boys and will the next few years be kinder to them? Will Marie's shop still be running and will JeanPaul have started to speak? It hurts to leave but I know it would hurt six weeks from now, six months from now- whenever.
On the whole, I look back at my pre-departure and realize I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I reviewed the first few months with a friend the other day and we memory-walked through the experiences. I'm glad to have kept somewhat of a record by blogging, but there are tons of stories which didn't make it to air. In the VSO evaluation we're asked what has changed for us professionally. Answer: I really enjoy methodology training and hope that I can continue to work in education within this dynamic context. (FYI: I got offered a job as an English Language Teacher Trainer in Ethiopia but I won't be pursuing it). We're also asked what's changed personally. Answer: EVERYTHING. The community I found here in Rwanda is like no other place I've lived. People depend on, care about, rely on and look after one another. I hope that wherever I choose to live next, I can find a similar environment. I hope that my family and I come to learn how to look after one another as well. I hope I never take my friends, or my health or my belongings or my good fortune for granted, EVER.
When Evelyn comes running up the street in her school uniform, her bright, full smile and glowing eyes greeting me with pure love- it's a rush like no other. She doesn't want anything from me, she's just an eight year old girl who enjoys my company and I hers. The little Art Club that began with just one boy and some paints has become something and I am a little disappointed I couldn't put enough in place for it to continue. Perhaps it will anyway, informally.
Looking back on the work, I'm glad for it. Looking back on the relationships, I'm blessed for it. It would be neglectful to not look back also on the fantastic opportunities I've had to experience East Africa. There was the weekend in Kampala by myself last August school break. The two weeks in Zanzibar during November school break. The impromptu trip to Nairobi over Christmas break, the 24 hour "let's go to Bujumbura so I can say I've been to Burundi" trip last weekend and finally- the ultimate adventure this past weekend: WHITEWATER RAFTING DOWN THE NILE in Jinja, Uganda!! Before coming to Rwanda, I knew very little of Africa and was downright intimidated by the dark continent. Now I feel able to handle just about any situation and am quite certain there's a whole world out there to explore, cultures to learn from, unmet friends and a world of new experiences. I recall Robert Frost's poem about choosing the road less travelled and being better for it. And then there's the cartoon on my wall with a little guy standing in front of a crossroads sign entitled "Your life" and one arrow points to AVERAGE and one arrow points to MEMORABLE.. which path would you choose?
I'll sign off now, perhaps a few more pictures will get posted but I think this'll be my final blog. Thanks for accompanying me on this journey. Be well,
Becky