Rebecca in Rwanda

A bang not a whimper

2010-02-18T06:46:00.000-08:00

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

All that you can't leave behind...

2010-02-07T06:43:00.000-08:00

As I wind down my time here in Rwanda, there are a lot of thoughts crowding my mind. I’m ready. I may or may not live in Africa again. How do I keep in touch with the Art Club kids? I am planning my future but also reminiscing a fair bit about this very challenging year. I wouldn’t trade it for anything but it’s been quite hard.
My last little project’s name is Roger. He is my three and a half year old neighbor and today I met his mother Francoise. Roger appears to be blind, or atleast his eyes are clouded over and grey. I want to take Roger to meet Piet, the Belgian eye surgeon friend of ours. Today Roger tried to follow me home. When I tried to send him back to his mum, he toddled after me again. Finally, picking him up and taking him over to his mum, Roger did the most touching and trusting thing- he laid his head on my shoulder. Some logistical questions: does Piet have time to meet him? Is his condition correctable? Do I have enough Kinyarwanda to convince Francoise to come with me to Kabgayi Hospital? Can this happen in the short amount of time I have left here?
Yesterday in the market, Karen and I met a young woman with a very deformed baby. He looked like half of a Siamese twin as his head was caved in down the middle and his eyes very wideset. As per all the handicapped people here, she was begging for money on his behalf. My response hasn’t changed since day one. I spoke with her, asked her questions, shook her hand, patted the baby’s arm and the most touching thing happened. For a moment, she stopped being a desperate beggar and turned into a loving mother. I asked her the baby’s name. Tomas, she said, and with that reponse a flicker of pride or love or something flashed from behind her eyes. Karen and I discussed this interaction afterwards and had differing views. How tragic it was to have such an enormous deformity and probably no hope for a normal life. Or… how amazing that this very young mother is choosing to care for him, love him and has decided not to leave him somewhere, abandoned.
I have a busy couple of weeks. After a goal-setting meeting at my model school, I will try and draft a strategic chart in hopes that the staff can set towards accomplishing some of these goals after I go. Emmanuel will buy the paints and I will take him to the school where I have decided that my farewell gift to them is to have Ema paint a mural on the wall of the school. The previous short-term volunteer bought them a cow. I don’t have that kind of cash but 20 years from now- especially if I pick the right paints- the cow’ll be gone and perhaps the mural will still be there.
Kate’s book is finished. A colleague from the Program Office, Noel (he is in fact the janitor and has offered me nothing but kindness since day one) helped me to bind three copies. I’ll meet Kate later this week and give her what we started out creating back in July- her completed memoir.
We are going to make a sign that reads “Chez Marie” for the front of Marie’s store. If you scroll back to my earliest photos you can see Marie, looking very disheveled and dusty with a little JeanPaul in her arms last May, standing in front of her previous address; a rundown home. The Marie of today is a glowing, youthful entrepreneur and has taken ALL the initiative to get her store up and going. It is such a pleasant sight. JeanPaul is walking and mischevious as ever, never venturing more than 2 feet from mum’s side, but still doesn’t speak. He is almost one and a half years old.
I have started to tell my friends about my leaving date. It’s harder than I thought. Take me with you, Fils says. I tell him it’s cold in Canada and he’d have to speak English. He says he doesn’t mind the cold and tells me his English is good. (Which it is by the way- in a strange twist he is the brightest of the Art Club kids but has befriended some local mechanics who are training him to be a mechanic. He is an orphan, his aunts are away at school year-round so I think the positive adult attention is what he craves and it’s unfortunate that a bright, young mind may not be seeking higher education. The mechanic’s job however will allow him to make a living…here in Rwanda, not in Canada with me.)
I attended my last church service at the Urukundo Home for Children last Sunday. Gatete, my basketball buddy who still hasn’t opened his Christmas gift yet, strikes me as the ideal candidate for sponsorship. I might follow up with Mama about that later on. This is the hard part. When the Headteacher of my model school cries to me in his office that his school fees are due in two weeks and he is 130,000 francs short, I know I can help him. When my co-facilitator brings his three children over to visit- the two darling daughters and the one son who is not his but came to live with them after his mother died- and asks me to help him with school fees, I know I can help him. When Emmanuel asks me to fund his AutoEcole dream, I know I can help him. When the staff of my model school tells me they want to build a kindergarten room so that the little ones that greet me every morning on my drive in can come to school, I know I can help them. When they also ask me to photocopy more resources for them, I know I can-d (although I do point to the bag in the corner wherein lies all the didactic material I have given them upon completion of my trainings and inquire why they are not using them daily. If even the co-facilitator of the three workshops chooses to teach his lesson on Thursday in the “chalk and talk” fashion after ALL the methodology training we’ve done together- I don’t know how I can help them! )When the two one-legged men in town panhandle or Eggboy asks me to buy something or the streetkids tell me they’re hungry, I know I can help them. When the Director of Education in Kamonyi District asks me to sit down with him to organize his office and help him with this new overwhelming job of his, I know I can help him. When the Headteacher of the new sector I’m training in insists that all 26 of his teachers be allowed to participate in my workshop instead of the allotted 3, I know I can do this. I can help Cadette pay her university fees, I can help Media go back to school, I can give JeanPierre and his father a leg to stand on and perhaps a small contribution will get them out of that impoverished atrocity they call a home. There’s only one problem: I can’t. It’s not that I won’t give money but part of me feels that what I came here to give, I’ve given already. I traded ideas, I shared resources, I made friends, I gave in kindness, I collaborated professionally, I made connections personally, I gave away most of my clothes and belongings and I gave my time- almost an entire year! If I throw money at the problems, then the next time a mzungu comes to work with them (with a bank full of ideas, friendship and goodwill), the expectation will be just as it always is: eventually, they’ll give us money. On top of which, after two years off work (the first year being the Habitat for Humanity trip to Ghana and the looooooooong VSO acceptance process and the second being my year in Rwanda), I don’t quite have the means to give financially. The development world is a slippery slope and I’m sure tons of sociologists/UN-ologists have waxed poetic about it long before, and much better than, me.
There were a lot of sad faces when I announced my leaving date, which is very soon by the way. I am partly travelling my way home so will be leaving Rwanda shortly. But I think there are a few kindred spirits here whom I’ll keep in touch with, in any way possible. A friend of mine has created an NGO and I plan to contribute to its development as best as I can. I may be leaving Rwanda in a few weeks but I don’t think Rwanda will ever, EVER leave me.

I am grateful for what I am and have. My thanksgiving is perpetual... O how I laugh when I think of my vague indefinite riches. No run on my bank can drain it for my wealth is not possession but enjoyment.
Henry David Thoreau

Eggboy

2010-01-27T13:37:00.000-08:00

Today, some of my efforts came together. Let me tell you first about the title character. A boy of fourteen who sells eggs from a basket in downtown Gitarama befriended me several months ago. With such little language skills between us, I always communicated with handshakes, smiles and simple well wishes. But this one is different than the scam artists that make up the dozen or so streetboys. Because his smile is wider than the radius of that blue egg basket.
We tried to meet up one day in town, in my haphazard Kinyarwanda I said “Thursday, here, two o’clock”. I forgot that day but also it had poured rain. I really hope he hadn’t stood there waiting for me. On Monday, Emmanuel and I ran errands together. First we set up his bank account, then we picked up photocopies, picked dress Immaculee had made, mailed postcards, went by Karen’s work, visited the old neighbourhood, tried to meet the Director of the Cultural Centre to ask for the use of a room once a week for Art Club- it was a busy and tiring day, but a fortunate one. On that day, I saw Eggboy.
Now, Karen and I have given lots of people lots of nicknames. It’s part coping strategy and it’s part there are 22 Emmanuels and 14 JeanClaudes sort of thing; it’s easier to refer to them this way. Some names are funnier than others like “Toad”, a creepy, pink ballet shoe wearing slimeball who skulks professionally downtown. There’s the “Shirtless Wonder”-a three year old who has the habit of ripping her shirt off and giggling in circles like some Tazmanian devil. There’s the “Little Cherub”, a girl of maybe 2 who waits at the top of the hill near my new house each morning, hand extended in giddy anticipation of our morning exchange. She has a round, round beautiful face! So Eggboy got his name because I enjoyed our interaction so much that each time I saw him, I’d buy some eggs and give them back. It’s a strange way to justify giving money but on my way to the bus or on the way to work, I don’t need eggs. I’d buy three and give him one and the two kids standing nearby the others.
On Monday, Emmanuel and I ran into Eggboy once again- perfect opportunity to find out more about my friend with the brilliant smile. We sat down at Procar’s and took a Fanta and I heard Ema translate that this boy did not go to school, had 8 siblings and his mother had died. He works everyday. He’s fourteen. I did the only thing I could think of- besides buying the 19 remaining eggs in his bin… I invited him to Wednesday’s Art club. We explained that it was only for one hour if he could get permission to not work from 4-5pm.
Today I was so curious to see if he’d come. Not only did he come but he was there at the meeting point early with a friend. Both boys followed hesitantly as we made our way to the old neighbourhood. I was tackled by Noella, Evelyn and Gloria and a dozen kids who had arrived early as well. I asked Claude, dear sensible thirteen year old Claude to greet Eggboy and make him feel welcome. I walked past and watched in my periphery as Claude walked up to this street kid and shook his hand and then do the same to his friend. Fifteen minutes later we had 42 kids working on colour wheel spinners made from cutting up cardboard boxes that Karen and I had received as packages from family and friends. (42 is our record turn out by the way). As soon as Ema demonstrated the toy/craft, there was a big reaction which pleased me because everyone was super excited about today’s craft. But nothing pleased me more than watching Eggboy, marker in hand, smiling ear to ear- getting initiated into Art Club. I hope he returns next week and I can learn his name :)

Rwanda nziza

2010-01-24T12:14:00.000-08:00

I've long ago decided that I prefer Rwanda to its neighbouring countries. There's something about the people here that differs from those in Tanzania, Kenya and Uganda (the three countries I've visited so far). I realize how ironical that sounds given the mix of actual nationalities represented here- probably some Rwandans I meet are actually from elsewhere. The speaker at the church I went to today in Kigali was Ugandan, for example. (His voice was exactly like Forest Whitaker's). Rwandans can be very guarded but within minutes of a greeting, there's a smile, a wave, an extended hand. Since the first week back in April, I've known that if I ever got lost or stuck in the mud with my moto (both of which have happened), then someone nearby will come to help me out. I've long since realized that establishing any real long-term friendships here is too difficult. There are the complications of being asked for school fees or sponsors or synthesizers or laptops. There are some cultural barriers like when you stop by unannounced at my house and then won't leave..And there's the reality that unlike you, I get to leave this country and return to my cushy life.
I have quite the game plan prepared for the next few weeks. Trainings. Painting a mural on my model school's wall. Finding a permanent location for Art Club. Trying yet again to explain to my District Office what it is I do. (Yeah, after 9 months it's still a shaky relationship. Wish I could expound on that but I want to keep other relationships intact). I think there's a quote about "checking the nature of your battle" and what I've concluded is that the next few weeks are going to help determine what, if anything, I'm leaving behind. Maybe they shouldn't be spent trying to meet the so-called objectives of some very overwhelmed and underqualified (and nameless) people and I should invest my time in those around me instead. The scales are tipped in favor of the latter. Maybe Marie's store will do well and the business loan we've set up will be the reason why. Maybe Emmanuel will use his new bank account to start saving for school- it'll take him 15 years to do so but perhaps it's a start. I have so many questions about what's next and my best friend from home reminded me today that I'm "always jumping forward". I need to stop that.
What's good about the now is that my new neighbourhood kids range in age from 2 to 9- a little younger of a crowd than the last house and so far only one of them has figured out my sense of humor. I tease him mercilessly but the others will catch on soon. There are new VSO just arrived and their enthusiasm and freshness is contagious. My new roomate Ken arrives Wednesday and I'm excited for the change in dynamic. Plus he's a soccer fan too so maybe he can strengthen my side during the impromptu street matches in front of my house. I'm getting demolished by these under 9 year olds!! Christi returns Thursday and I am training one more sector Thurs/Friday and I cannot wait for the chance to work properly again.
Yesterday Procar gave us a lift home- a nice random act of kindness. He had transported a plastic chair from Kigali to Gitarama for us that we bought for our guard- who had been sitting on a pile of bricks each night. One good turn deserves another I guess. Today a woman hugged me in church, she didn't have to, she just turned suddenly and did it. Did she know I needed one?
This blog I'm sure comes off as a bit rambly but I'm super tired. I feel so confused about leaving, about what's next and about what it all means. Maybe there's processing to be done afterwards just as there was quite a bit when I arrived. An afterthought I had is that someone commented to me the other day about all the literature on Rwanda being topical. There's the Bradt guide but otherwise it's mostly about the war. Hasn't anyone felt inclined to write about the beauty of Kibuye, the cute little 3 year olds who tie empty jerry cans to their backs to mimic having a baby attached, the funny looking goats who bleet like Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman, the sweetness of watching one person help another on/off the bus with their belongings especially when said person is a mother toting three children solo, the elderly woman who stopped Karen and I mid-pace today with zealous excitement to just say "good evening" and finally, is there not a book out there that speaks to the shared joy, the companionship, the collectivist ideology that is so often attributed to Africa but also exists here, in this overlooked and underappreciated country? If not, there should be.
This VSO experience has effected me like no other and I am glad for it.

The Point

2010-01-20T10:02:00.000-08:00

A friend asked me recently what my breaking point was. This came on the heels of my umpteenth illness. I answered: There isn't one. For me, there was a tipping point for sure after the 4th bout of malaria. There have been many boiling points, for instance when I spend the entire day planning a training (visiting the far-away sector, meeting the Executive Secretary, convincing Daniel to volunteer again, gathering the materials, typing up the proposal, three hours on a moto) only to have the Director of Education nix it without explanation. Or when I'm left for three weeks over the holidays in a house full of raw sewage or when for some reason getting mosquito screens put on the windows of the new house takes an inordinate amount of time.. (still not done by the way). There are many boiling points. But despite having been sick almost the entire time I've been here, there is no breaking point. There is just being here. That's the point. Every illness I've had is treatable. I am still able to be productive, to impact those around me and the day I can no longer be of service or of use, I'll go home. Of course there are easier places to live and work. There's this whole philosophy which informs my decisions and it revolves around the idea that suffering is optional. We choose our life's perspective, n'est pas? I can get really down about the malaria, typhoid, amoebas, pneumonia but what purpose does that serve? Now, it's definitely not all rainbows and butterflies but as I stated in my Christmas blog, it's my system's weakness that is to blame. I am perhaps not sturdy enough for this country. But I love it here. This afternoon as I moto'ed back from Kamonyi, I had one of those epiphanies which I can only relate back to a scene from a movie. Meg Ryan in City of Angels is riding her bike and taking notice of the warmth of the sun (yes, right before she gets creamed by the truck). Today I noticed the beauty of it all. The green hills, the giggling children, the blue blue skies. Yeah, I did also take into account the speeding trucks and rough gravel not wanting Meg Ryan's fate. I enjoyed Art Club this afternoon instead of stressing out if everyone was successful with their pipe cleaner butterflies, I sat down beside Evelyn and Francois and helped Mohammed make his. We then made buzzing sounds and pretended to sting each other with our yellow and red insects. As we walked back to the road, there was competition for hand-holding rights. Mohammed was walking beside me with my arm draped around his shoulder. Another boy jostled unsuccessfully for the position and once the scuffle ended, I reached for Mo's hand again. He took my wrist and draped my arm around his shoulder once more, his preference. This country will break your heart. A sentiment I wrote about ages ago. I have so many thoughts about leaving-which for the record is six short weeks away. I have a To-Do List about a mile long. It will never be enough.

Much thought has gone into who and in what capacity I can help people before I go and it's come down to ten. I will help these ten people. Not all in a financial capacity by the way, for the most part I believe charity is in doing not in giving. I'll let you know how it goes but the first one on the list, Marie (mother of JeanPaul and the first to befriend me in the neighbourhood back in May) has already received from me and I know deep down it was the right thing to do. Emmanuel's is happening on Monday. Kate's is in progress. I realize that all I want to do before I go may not be accomplished and being a results-oriented person this may be disappointing. I will have to come to terms with it somehow.

The tipping point, the boiling point- just being here and being with people, that's the point.

Nairobi

2010-01-20T10:00:00.000-08:00

Between Christmas and New Year’s, Gitarama emptied of expats so Karen and I decided a short holiday was a good idea. We had predetermined that we wanted to travel somewhere that had more access to Western things while simultaneously experiencing a new culture. Cairo was on the shortlist but too expensive, Capetown too far and although we had been warned of its well deserved nickname of Nai-robbery, we chose to go to Kenya’s capital. We couldn’t have had a better time if we tried. Within twenty four hours of arriving, we’d hit up two malls and been to the movies.. (Avatar).
**(We had decided to take only taxis as a means to increase our safety. Oddest thing to have your driver immediately lock your doors after you enter the taxi and to pull up to the shopping mall, supermarker or any other parking lot and have to go through an armed security check. No worries, we had absolutely no negative contact during our visit but our budget suffered a bit with this all important transportation decision).
At the mall it was kinda funny because we decided to separate for one hour to give ourselves some shopping time and when we met up again, neither of had bought anything. Karen had an icecap in her hand and I was downing a cup of ice cream. We went outside the mall to the nearby Masai market and proceeded to shop, shop , shop- half wondering what was wrong with us. For me, seeing the clothes, books, jewelry, shoes, STUFF inside the mall (which was four stories and filled with expats or Africans in western dress) just overwhelmed me. There wasn’t anything I NEEDED. There was tons of stuff I could buy but nothing I needed. I hope this feeling stays with me for a long time, I want my whole approach to consumerism to shift towards basic necessity over flashy, shiny new crap.
On Day 2 we visited Nairobi National Park, electing to try it first before booking a larger safari. After three hours in the park, there was no need to go elsewhere. We watched adolescent giraffes play tag, dozens of zebra dart in front of the car, ostrich running at full stretch, impala/dikdik/antelope/can’t tell them apart things running in the fields, water buffalo grazing by the pond and on the proceeding safari walk saw pygmy hippos, a rhino, albino zebra, lions and a cheetah about 40 ft up a tree. Coolest thing on the first safari was the leopard, spotted (by that I mean sighted but also he had spots) on a rock a few hundred metres away, looking across the valley for something to eat. I have some amazing pictures of course. And for some strange reason, we got out of the car to get a closer look. Yup, just like at Akagera when we went down by the hippos, for some reason curiosity and awe replace reason and safety in these scenarios. I lived to tell about it though.
Day 3 we took it easy, visiting the mall again. I went in to the bookstore resembling Chapters and said to Karen in advance- my limit is 3. Two minutes later I approached her with an armful of books and requested an intervention!! I bought a second bag and about a dozen books came home with me. I’ve already finished 4. With my computer on the fritz I haven’t watched many movies lately and there is little else to do in the evening save reading. I might put a book list up though, I’ve read some amazing stories. The non-fiction about the Sudan is great reading.
At the guesthouse we chose, we met some incredible people. It was a bed and breakfast type called African Inland Mission. We met people heading to and coming from some amazing situations. One lady had worked in DRC but been evacuated. One father and son duo from Australia were on their way to Sudan. The Director of an Ethiopian NGO had come to this guesthouse for a stress break. And then we met a young Canadian couple from the University of Western Ontario who live on Sarnia and Wonderland Rd just a stone’s throw from my former apartment!! We made plans to hang out on Day 4.
Day 4 was the coolest day in Nairobi. We visited an elephant orphanage and learned about the fate of dozens of month old or year old baby elephants. Many were saved from poachers traps or wells they had fallen into. The one pictured here had actually been rescued by a local Masai and taken back to his village where he had to lock him in his house to prevent his neighbours from barbequing it !! He alerted the rangers and the baby (3 month old) elephant was brought to the David Sheldrake Orphanage. The afternoon saw us heading to a giraffe sanctuary and hand feeding giraffes!! It’s like when a dog licks your hand only ten times more slobbery and gross!! I couldn’t stop giggling. What a beautiful and complex looking creature. Her eyelashes were longer than my fingers, her patterning incredible. She kept taking my whole hand in her mouth. For the record, there is a handwashing station on site. Then the four of us, the Canadian couple and Karen and I took a walk in the nature forest where supposedly one giraffe lived. We hiked a bit and commented how much it resembled Sifton Bog (a trail back in London, ON) and basically agreed the chances of finding the one giraffe was like spotting Polkaroo. Then, just as we were heading for the exit, I caught sight of him out of the corner of my eye. We approached him, snapped photos, marveled at the uniqueness of the experience and then left. The guard at the gate cautioned us that they can be kind of aggressive but in this case, he was just as curious and wary of us as were of him. The pictures kind of make it look like we’re posing beside a statue of a giraffe, but I promise you he was real.
The kicker of day 4 was a meal at the infamous Carnivore restaurant in Nairobi. Okay, all you vegetarians close your eyes and plug your ears... I ate crocodile and ostrich and every other kinda meat. They literally just keep bringing skewer after skewer and you say yes or no to trying it. Four rounds of lamb, turkey, pork- get that potato off my plate, there's no room in my tummy! And a swirling tray of sauces each designated for a different meat. In the middle of the table, (not joking!) is a little white flag and once you and your friends have decided you've had your fill, you must lay the flag down and surrender! It was a unique dining experience for sure. I made up for 9 months of protein deficiency eating only goat brochettes every few weeks or so in Gitarama. We had wine, chocolate cake, tea.. it was divine. For the record, crocodile is the strangest texture- even worse than the shark I ate in Trinidad years ago. Ostrich, yum!
Day 5 and we’re heading home but first we must stop at the phenomenal Costco-like supermarket and buy some of the many, many things that are unavailable in Rwanda. Popcorn kernels! Ragu! Flavored tea! There was so much to choose from it was unbelievable. We managed to spend 14 dollars. I think we were a little overwhelmed. Best story so far is that we had changed our flight to head home at 2 instead of 8 because I was sick and wanted to see the doctor back in Kigali. We get to the airport, board the plane and the captain informs us that the refueling truck driver pulled away from the plane without detaching and has broken something. We deboard and have to wait 7 hours on New Year’s Eve day in the Nairobi airport as Rwandair has refused to let the airport staff fix it and have flown another plane over from Kigali to take us home. A propeller plane. It takes over two hours to fly the one hour trip home. We arrive around 10:30 flat exhausted and are barely aware when hooting and hollering and drum beating start up in and around Kigali at midnight.
Wonderful trip, magnificent experiences, I’m ready for 2010. Bring it on!

A Christmas Story

2010-01-20T09:02:00.000-08:00

Once it was decided that I would stay here for Christmas and not travel home (for most of December I was really keen for the latter option), I threw my energy into my surroundings. Karen and I had a party for our 15 regular Art Club participants and spent a fair bit of time buying just the right T-shirt for each one. For instance, JeanPierre and Fils got these cool black, red and white long sleeved shirts and little Ariana got a pink sweetheart one. The party was phenomenal as we had made stockings the week before out of paperbags and we filled the stockings with candy and party favors. The children arrived on time and were quite well behaved and calm for the first ½ hour. Then we played musical chairs and had a dance marathon and ate lollipops and watched a boy-band performance by Francois, JeanPierre and Claude and a beautiful dance performed by Yvette, Evelyn, Voisine, Gloria, Noella and Solange. Serge’s mouth turned blue from his lolly. Voisine’s shirt was laughably too big. Emmanuel was enjoying the games just as much as the 9 year olds. There were lots of hugs, hands held, kids in laps and smiles all around. Basically, you couldn’t have asked for a nicer afternoon; the room was full of love. On Christmas Eve we met up with our friend Tom for a dinner at Splendid, a somewhat fancier restaurant in Gitarama.
Christmas Day was equally unique. In the morning, we visited the Urukundo Home for Children (where we attend church each Sunday) and were given the tough task of setting up the tree with presents underneath and then guarding the presents from the 40 curious children until the time came to hand them out. Now, friends with kids you know how excited they are on Christmas morn? Try 40 who aren’t used to getting gifts!! It was great fun basking in their anticipation. The children performed several dance numbers, Bibles were distributed by Mama, we took Communion and finally the kids received their gifts. My favorite basketball buddy Gatete actually refused to open his right away, he put it away in his room saying he wanted to keep it just like it is for now.
In the afternoon, Karen and I accepted an invitation from JeanPierre and his father to Christmas dinner. I’m not sure I have the words to share with you what it feels like to have the poorest boy in your neighbourhood extend to you an invitation on one of the most special days of the year. He and his father live alone in a one room mudhut with two chairs, a mattress and a few pots. Little else. We sat and spoke in Kinyarwanda and as the food came out it was quite clear that no matter what the conditions were, we would partake in their generosity. Now, having visited other poor families before I know firsthand that an unfortunate side effect of such visits is some unpleasant indigestion the following day. By this I mean sweating, vomiting, bad tummy..pretty much all at once. I’ve long since decided it’s not Rwanda’s fault that I can’t stomach the conditions. My weak system is to blame, not the conditions.. or so it goes. The impoverished just don’t have the means to keep clean water or buy and prepare food in the appropriate way. Nevertheless, Karen and I toughed it out, enjoyed the company and kindness very much and were altogether touched by the day’s events. Immediately upon arriving home I vomited intensely for two hours and was pretty off the rest of the day. Karen experienced similar issues the following day because she refused to make herself get sick. Was it worth it? Absolutely!!
The evening’s festivities were pretty awesome too. Karen had sparklers from home and we went out front and lit them to the awe and amazement of a handful of kids. I have never had a Christmas quite like this one. Giving Bruno a jar of bubbles, giving Valens several packs of gum, giving Procar a snazzy shirt, giving Silas a warm sweater, giving Emmanuel an art kit- I liked playing Santa. We worry so much about not giving inappropriately- even though I have things I don’t use or need I can’t always just give because I’m concerned about how it reflects on my role here. Christmas provided a perfect excuse to just give for the sake of giving. If I have a sweater that I don’t wear and it just sits in my cupboard and Silas, Christi’s guard looks cold each time we see him.. well, you know how it is.
One of the best gifts was the one I got for Karen. We had been in the Kimironko market together in Kigali a week or so before Christmas. She had seen and unsuccessfully tried to bargain for this great orange dress. The price being offered was extortionate. We continued on and at one point she went to look at sheets. I thought: Now’s my chance and snuck away. Now the Kimironko market is like the Eaton Centre in Toronto: MASSIVE. I ran through the aisles, looking for that same vendor, found him and started pleading my case. He was mid-sale when I saw Karen walk by looking for me. I literally ducked down so she wouldn’t see me. I explained to the confused group of vendors that it was a surprise gift for my friend, I think they were wondering why I was acting so silly. I bought the dress and then tried to find her but wouldn’t you know it now we had really lost each other. It was comical as each vendor tried to help the one mzungu find the other and I guess we kept missing one another. I didn’t have my phone with me. Anyway, eventually found each other, I made up some story and kept the dress hidden in my backpack. On Christmas Eve (of course my family realizes we have to open atleast ONE on Christmas Eve n’est pas?), she opened the gift, it fits to a T and looks like it was made for her. What fun!!
But that’s my favourite part of Christmas back home, the pre-holiday stuff when your friends and family are foremost in your thoughts and you are imagining how best to surprise them on Christmas, only this time I didn’t spend my days running around malls, wrestling for parking spots surrounded by holiday hoopla. The same effects were achieved and although I might not have had any images of Santa or snow or the lights in Victoria Park back home, I certainly experienced the same warmth and goodwill that comes at this wonderful time of year.
Noheli nziza na umwaka mwiza to my family in Canada and my family here in Rwanda!!

The boy and the volcano

2010-01-13T00:03:00.000-08:00

This photo is one of my favorites. It was taken by the lakeside near Ruhengeri during a quiet weekend in early November. Amongst a group of savvy, playful kids he stood out. Most significantly his size is dwarfed by the volcano and there is a slight ripple in the water to his right. I look at this photo and it makes me think. This boy, with his tattered clothes, dirty feet and forlorn state- does he matter? You could photo-shop him out of the picture, like he never existed. There are so many children like him in Africa- too many almost. Sometimes when I see street kids or children who clearly aren't cared for here, I wonder how they view themselves. I've met several orphans who have now grown up and I wonder, when you are alone in the world, who cares for you but yourself? What or who does an individual become when their basic needs aren't met?
In a broader context, this pictures makes me think about my impact on others while I'm here. As a typical ambitious VSO, I arrived last April filled to the gills with idealism. It was like a leaky faucet as months went by and disappointments became regular occurences. Goals were modified. Grander schemes were replaced with simpler tasks. I realized early on that I would be impacting people individually. I would focus on kindness, patience, compassion and understanding. I would not succeed in re-organising the education system and I would not be able to provide all that the teachers in my district require to become better teachers. Some, not all.
It is tangible that I helped Kate write her memoir. It is concrete that the Art Club has been meeting EVERY Wednesday afternoon for the past 7 months. And the smile and enthusiasm with which JeanPierre greets me each and every time is something I feel that if I bottled its contenants would glow a warm pink or orange- visibly.
I think about development goals and the state of the world and it always boils down to this one picture, this pathetic and endearing image of a boy in front of a volcano. He matters and therefore whatever I have been able to accomplish here on a singular/individual level, no matter how small and insignificant it feels, will have been worth the journey.

Go-rillaz!!

2010-01-01T05:02:00.000-08:00

On November 10th, I climbed into Virunga National Park near a volcano that borders 3 different countries (Uganda, DRC and Rwanda) to spend one hour with the fascinating mountain gorillas. The hike was beautiful, in lush green forest with enough of a trail so that unlike Nyungwe we didn't have to hack a path. It was steady going with breaks every now and again to appreciate the stunning view. I was sceptical about actually seeing any animals because Nyungwe had been such a disappointment when after 2 hours of hiking we were told to stop, unload our equipment and come to look at the massive beasts.
Seriously. We were about 15ft away from group 13 which included a silverback, several females, adolescents and half a dozen babies. The head of the silverback is what caught my eye first and I kept slapping my friend Charlotte on the arm- Do you see that?! Do you see that?! His head was the size of my microwave, don't know how else to put it- he's just MASSIVE! He was sitting chilling out with his pseudo-family around him. A female missing one hand from an encounter with a trap played nearby with a 2 year old. They wrestled and the little one pounced on her belly. Not sure who was getting the most enjoyment out of the experience the elder or the younger. A set of babies were playing with each other and my earlier jesting about "taking one home" became a somewhat serious consideration as these fuzzy stuffed animals made their cute grunts and did pouncing, somersaults and mini chest-beats. We snapped photos and marveled at the enormity and power encapsulated in the 400 pound sleeping silverback. Part of me wanted to see him do something and part of me was acutely aware that if he woke up and got aggravated in any way, we'd be toast. The guide kept making low guttaral grunts the entire time we were there and encouraged us not to point. When you are an uber-tourist and among five other girls, all you can do is point. Look at that! Did you see what that one just did! It was kinda funny. I couldn't NOT point I was so excited by it.
Then, the most awesome rare thing of all.. they mated. Two adult females had been vying for the sleeping giant's affection. One kept yawning and showing her teeth and the other was kinda sauntering around- you know gorilla flirting. So, big guy wakes up, walks over to the teethy one and proceeds to, you know, do it. The five of us were in fits of laughter and wonder and shock- only Kerry managed to get her camera in order and video the activity. There were strange noises, other gorillas watching too and within minutes a small shudder and it was done. He promptly walked back to his spot, lay down and fell asleep. Best drama of all was the "other woman" who hadn't been chosen threw a bit of a hissy fit, all the while dragging a 2 year old baby on her back. Fascinating! Apparently it is rare to see such an event and we were joking that although we hadn't actually hoped to witness exactly THAT, we should maybe sell our footage to National Geographic. Haha!
The hike down was hilarious. Just as soon as we turned to leave it began to pour rain. We slid, skiied, giggled and slipped our way down the hill. Whereas on the way up we often got caught or stung by the nettles and had to pick our way carefully, the way down was just like a muddy slip n' slide. We couldn't stop laughing though, we had just experienced one of those rare, once in a lifetime moments; an hour with one of the most amazing creatures in the world.

Teacher Trainings

2009-12-30T04:09:00.000-08:00

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

2009-12-23T05:42:00.000-08:00

“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

2009-12-14T08:52:00.000-08:00

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!

2009-11-23T01:55:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-05T08:55:00.001-08:00

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

2009-10-29T03:33:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-29T03:28:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-29T03:09:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-06T23:09:00.000-07:00

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

2009-09-13T02:32:00.000-07:00

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

2009-09-09T01:37:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-31T02:36:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-31T02:26:00.000-07:00

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!

2009-08-17T01:38:00.000-07:00

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

2009-08-07T05:13:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-29T03:52:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-27T02:54:00.000-07:00

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

2009-07-20T03:09:00.001-07:00

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

2009-06-29T06:59:00.000-07:00

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

VSO

2009-06-22T07:35:00.001-07:00

Anna Maceachern of VSO-Canada, I have tried to email you but it bounces back. Here is my address: rebeccajyoung@live.com. Send me a message :)

Blessings be counted !

2009-06-21T08:23:00.000-07:00

Hi friends,
I am feeling short of words today so I'm going to start with some quotes.

"Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace, and gratitude."
Denis Waitley

"I am grateful for what I am and have. My thanksgiving is perpetual... O how I laugh when I think of my vague indefinite riches. No run on my bank can drain it for my wealth is not possession but enjoyment."
Henry David Thoreau

I have had an eventful week. Chimp trekking was quite an adventure.. a really great group of friends and as they say it's the "journey not the destination" that matters most. The logistics of actually getting into the forest- including having the guesthouse reservations fall through on the day and our driver lock the keys in the car and leaving at 2am to begin hiking at 5:30am and riding 3 hours on the flatbed of a pickup truck and being stopped by a police check and stumbling through really dense tropical forest and being bitten by army ants and paying the entrance fee of someone who has a green card even though I don't have mine yet (yay discount!) and seeing monkeys but only up by the road after we had hiked for 3 hours in the valley looking for them- was far more fun than the actual monkey sightings (of which there were very few by the way).
My school visits continue to be delightful. I would love to share the professional side of things with my teacher colleagues back in London. I'm sure they would find it equally fascinating and also have some wonderful suggestions. When I get a little daunted by the task ahead, I try to picture one of my schools with a classroom full of didactic materials and lessons being taught with eager student participation and complete knowledge acquisition. I picture this happening about 6 months from now. Yup, I'm probably being far too idealistic but one can hope.
I forgot to mention that I have acquired a guitar !! I remember my friends advising me on this decision pre-Rwanda (as I really wanted to bring one from home) and wouldn't you know it- the prison in Gitarama makes guitars and I now own one ! It is pretty hard to tune and play but I just like the soulful feel that a guitar gives to the house. Terry, your harmonica is also a favorite memento of mine.
In other news, I wanted to share with you how loved I feel. I know that sounds a little cheesy but I don't care. When you are halfway around the world, far from the people who know you best and who you can usually depend on, it can make you feel a little vulnerable. So, there is a group of people here that I have affectionately called "my surrogate family". This includes a new roommate (who works with an Italian NGO and has a wicked sense of humor), a new nightguard (a sweet guy named Emmanuel), a domestic (the ever-dedicated Delphine) and an assortment of expats who have been very kind, caring and thoughtful. I am very grateful for their presence. On top of this, I am becoming well acquainted with my neighbours. They make the walk to and from home a joy. Often, the little ones will come running up and hug me, all smiles. There are maybe a dozen children and I am trying to learn all their names. Jean-Paul is the smallest (less than a year) and he looks at me with these big brown eyes- melts the heart. Ariel and her sister are my direct neighbours and they kick ball around with me or throw the Frisbee. (For the record, before I even bought a can opener or other kitchen essentials, I had bought a soccerball, a basketball and a Frisbee. Where are my priorities??) I have even played "Flinch" with the boys- with hilarious reactions.. makes me think of my old classes back at PAFI. Rosa is always in a pretty little dress, some of the smaller kids and/or girls often get excluded from play because the older ones dominate however the boys got a little lesson in "never underestimate a muzungu's soccer skills" as I stripped the ball off the 12 year old and made his friends keel over laughing. Funny thing is, after work and on weekends, I'm often hanging around in my Adidas splashpants and a t-shirt. This prompts the ladies of the neighbourhood to inquire "Are you going to do sport?". How do I tell them that, no, these are my comfy clothes and that I won't be in skirts/dresses except for Sunday church clothes?
Well, as I lean out the window of the Internet cafe, the sun is setting a hot pink in the distance. There is music playing (as there usually is in downtown Gitarama) and I am off to "muzungu" dinner, our regular Sunday gathering of expats. I'm not sure what the week holds, there is always so much I want to share with everyone but by the time I get in front of the computer, my mind is blank. I am missing people from home a little bit. I have called a few of you for very brief conversations which has been really nice and I will get skype set up here soon, I hope. For all my teacher friends, best of luck with the final push to summer. I'm excited for you guys, because I know how nice the feeling is of having completed another school year. I hope everyone has good summer plans ahead, even if it is just a hammock and a book- well earned rest. I hope everyone's little ones are doing well- would love to hear stories of how Gaby and Isaac and Tess, etc are. Keep in touch. My new address here is P.O. Box 155 Gitarama Rwanda. I have sent a few postcards, hopefully they find you well.
Each day I take a moment to myself and remember how lucky I am to be here and to have the support of family and friends. I know that not everyone can have an adventure like this. I am certain that on my 90th birthday, I will reflect upon the fact that at 32 years old I went to live in Rwanda for a year. Today I am counting my blessings... and they are many.

Sweetness Follows

2009-06-11T08:34:00.000-07:00

This blog will be done in R.E.M. form (as in the song "It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine") so that I can squish as many stories into the small space as possible. The blog title is inspired by the inevitability here that after one bad experience, a positive one follows.
In the past week, since my last blog, I've learned that it only takes a Rwandan 3.5 minutes to change a flat tire on a bus, the sound of a tire popping is like a gunshot, when you kill a few little spiders in your house a big Mafia spider shows up to taunt you and then sneaks back down the drain after a few missed shoe hits, when wearing a skirt on a moto your legs accumulate dirt shrapnel wounds, the bus drivers give each other secret hand signals to alert when there's a police check, said police checks are random and can either last a minute or 20, a green lollipop that a girl on the bus buys for you is extra sweet, a melange is the quickest thing to order at the restaurant and consists of pasta, rice, fries, beans, spinach and unidentified meat- portions of which are much too big to finish, firing a nightguard is unpleasant, my neighbour the hiphop artist gave me his CD- it's not bad, the universal law of childhood is to behave blissfully unaware of your future challenges and in Rwanda to smile/hug strangers every afternoon on their way home from work, this much I know is true- there is nothing, NOTHING sweeter than the 2 year old boy who comes running down my path to hug my knees each afternoon, Rolos and ricecakes on the bus ride home from Kigali are worth sneaking even if it violates some appropriate "code" Rwandans have about not eating in public, having 5 employees at District Office stare jaws agape as I type is really funny (I am a wicked fast typer, but nonetheless), hot water is overrated I actually LOVE my cold showers, having an eight year old boy respond with "blahblahblah" when I tried to speak Kinyarwanda with him is also amusing, watching the children at Mama's orphanage give Sunday service is heartwrenchingly beautiful; little David is by far the "scene-stealer" as he toddles from one lap to the other and last Sunday I watched a 12 year old boy look after a sleeping 3 year old with such tenderness- 12 year olds at home (atleast the ones I've met) don't have that compassion in them, having a women breastfeed her baby beside me on the bus can be forgiven because his little hand was wrapped around my pinkie finger and he had a cherubic face, sitting through a 7 and 1/2 hour staff meeting in Kinyarwanda might be the most challenging thing I do this week, oh besides trying to buy vegetables on the hill- which apparently isn't just a gathering of a few hundred random Rwandans as I first thought- it's actually where you buy your vegetables, my pet gecko Bill now has a lady friend gecko Sally- both are welcome if they continue to keep the flies/mozzies away, you have to knock on the window if you want to be let off the bus, was asked if I was a francophone and I answered no "anglophone with french tendencies", went all the way to Kamonyi (bus and moto one hour) to discover the power was out and couldn't get any work done so went back down to main road and caught bus to Kigali and then back (an hour bus) to Gitarama at day's end- that was my Monday!! only met 3 crazy men this week (that's an average low), talked politics with a guy from Guinea at dinner, met a cow named "Peace" who was irritable on account of they just inseminated her- or so said the Headteacher, oh yeah and someone I work with (who will remain anonymous) has the voice and demeanor of King Julien from the Madagascar movies- cannot keep a straight face around this man and he is quite important in Kamonyi ! Oh dear ! And finally, watching Monty Python's Meaning of Life projected onto the wall of your own living room which is full of new friends from England, Australia, USA, the Phillipines, Italy and Ireland (Belgian was absent) is AWESOME !!!
Miss you guys, hope all is well at home. Off to forage for dinner now and hope the water is back on when I get home (it's off for some unknown reason).
Be well- Becky

The spider won the fight

2009-05-31T06:05:00.000-07:00

It has been quite an eventful week! I am moved into my house and I love it ! I have pics to share but no means of uploading them at the moment.... hopefully soon. I spent a few days getting set up, after first evicting the man squatting in the back room. An inventory of the house provided me with a mishmash of curtains, a dining room table with chairs and a couch with sofa chairs! I bought some sheets to cover the sofas and started making the most of the curtain situation. There are guard quarters in the back and I pilfered those curtains too; well almost all of them. The first curtain brought a tiny gecko into the house, no worries, he will eat the bugs for me. The second curtains are still hanging in the guard quarters on account of the fact that a very large and agile spider dropped down from them during BOTH my attempts to take them down. Now can I just add here that I have been quite fine with the beetles, grasshoppers, bedbugs and mozzies, even killed a few dust spiders during my initial clean of the house. But I draw the line at dealing with the premeditated, cunning deviant that lives in those curtains. He can keep them!

I have now cooked multiple meals on the floor of my kitchen (mostly of the oatmeal and rice cake variety) AND I did laundry. The pics will give you a better appreciation for what an accomplishment this is. I think I have a night guard lined up. On the recommendation of another expat, Antonas will get a one week trial period. He speaks French which is a bonus and he walked 4 and a half hours to meet me on Friday... and he was on time!! Now that is impressive! I am looking at getting a Kinyarwanda language tutor and possibly a part time domestic. Looking after everyday things here (like market shopping, preparing food, laundry, filtering water, cleaning house) feels like a full time job and I need to turn my attention to my real job at the District Education Office in Kamonyi. The short term plan is to send introductory letters to all the Headteachers, attend the next scheduled meeting and plan some observational school visits. Oh yeah, and locate said schools ;) Here is where it gets fun.

I kind of feel that the hardest part is behind me. The first few weeks were so unsettling and I was so nervous and worried all the time. When I thought of just how far away home was, it completely overwhelmed me. And every day there was some new and crazy situation or encounter to process. So much about living here is way outside of my comfort zone. I am sure I will adjust/adapt to it.

One of the real highlights this week, besides the house, is that I made a new friend. He is a university student originally from the Congo and he is in a hip hop band. On Thursday, he showed me where the basketball courts were and we went to shoot hoops (with my new basketball) for about an hour ! Of course I schooled him, but I think just the act of playing around, having fun really did wonders to lift my spirits. That, and talking to Leah on the phone later that night; thanks Leah!

Today, I feel pretty good. This is probably the result of having just spent the weekend in Kibuye with some wonderful friends. More on that next time... that blog involves recounting the tales of the Great Lake Swim, the hauntingly melodic sounds from the church, trying to keep up with the Brits vocabulary, boating in the rain, some delicious meals and captivating views. I hope everyone is well in Canada. Most of you have made an appearance on my Family Wall of Picsin the living room of my new house (from those that I brought with me) and I think of you all often. Happy Birthday Jasper and Mike! XOXO

Kigali Genocide Memorial Centre

2009-05-21T10:29:00.000-07:00

Today I visited the Memorial Centre in Gisoko. There are no words...

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

2009-05-20T11:01:00.000-07:00

Hello friends.
So much to share. This week has been an emotional rollercoaster as one minute there's a house and next minute there isn't. Was meant to move in tomorrow, now it's next week. Today I made progress (I think) with voicing some concerns. Doesn't matter. What I'm finding is that at the end of each day, I have to answer to myself. Have I been productive today? What could I do differently? And most importantly, is my approach to these situations sustainable? The answer to the third question right now is a big: NO! I have had some trouble adjusting to the food here and working at an appropriate pace. Typically me, I'm either going full steam or not at all. Funny though, at home that works because there are certain things one can do to restore their energies- catch a movie with a friend, hit up DQ or go rollerblading. Here, the decompression techniques are much more limited. I've watched a bunch of DVDs on my laptop, done yoga in my room and been out with friends. Today- in an effort to be proactive- I bought a basketball. I used to shoot hoops in the driveway to relieve stress in high school, so I figured I could find a court and who knows, maybe show some local Rwandans my "moves". Haha. My IPOD is getting used A LOT ! I've found that in the evening, I can go for long walks listening to my music and basically tune everyone out. On the bus commute, this also comes in handy as everyone tries to strike up a conversation with the "muzungu" and it can be tiring trying to accomodate.
Funny bus story: so there seems to be varying degrees of acceptable contact between Rwandans and foreigners. Notably, they will want to touch your arm, or leg and don't ask before doing it. Apparently it's for any number of reasons: to see if your whiteness rubs off, for good luck or just pure curiosity. Rwandans themselves are very "hands on", it's not unusual to see men walking hand in hand or with their arms draped around each other. Like in Ghana, I find this kind of open affection quite charming- except when it comes to me ! Okay, back to the funny story. I'm sitting on the bus with my headphones on and a group of university-aged school girls get on. One of them, reaches over and gently takes the hair elastic out of my hair and starts running her fingers through it, seemingly amazed at the colour and thickness. (I do have great hair !!) We get into quite a lovely conversation with her friends and at the end of the 20 minute bus ride (and some exchanges in Kinyarwanda, French and English) she pays for my fare on the way off the bus. Like I said, if at first you can get over your startled reaction and enjoy the charm and warmth behind her actions, it's actually quite nice. That being said, there have been some unpleasant exchanges but I'm not going to dignify those with blog air-time.
Life here is in constant motion and the need to adapt quickly to challenging situations is a key survival skill. Sometimes at the end of the day, I sit for a minute and let my mind just process all that it's seen/heard for the day. It's quite a lot to ponder. My goals for the next few days are to get some sleep and refuel. I was charging my iPOD and camera the other day and lay down for a second thinking- I also need to recharge MY batteries.
Work is by far the best part of the trip so far. My employer seems quite keen if not a little curious about working with me. She has been helpful and communicative which I gather is not always the case when volunteers show up to work. I am the first volunteer in the Kamonyi District so I feel a huge responsibility to make a good start. I spent the day pouring over school statistics for the 20 primary schools in my 3 sectors within the Kamonyi District. The photocopier was broken so I ended up copying the information out by hand. It will be useful to have school statistics such as performance levels, numbers of boys/girls, staffing info and whether they are "groupe scolaire"/catholic/sponsored schools. The next step is to have a meeting with all the Headteachers so that my Director of Education can give me a proper introduction. I will then prepare letters to send to each school explaining exactly what my role as Primary Methodology Volunteer is and what they can gain by collaborating with me. Headteachers who are interested in participating (or becoming "model schools") will then contact the Director and I can plan school visits. Needless to say there is a "crawl, walk, run" stage here that requires some patience on my part. I want to jump right in and do QDPA with the kids ! However, there are many steps to take first; some of which might take several weeks. Another fun part is that I can't get my hands on a proper map of the sectors so another volunteer suggested I take a blank piece of paper, draw the sectors on it and add the schools to it one by one as I find them. Sounds like it's going to be a fascinating couple of weeks.
I have met some really great people working for various other NGOs. The common link within our type of jobs and the similarities in cultural backgrounds make it very easy to relate to other expats. I have heard that the Right to Play organisation is based in Kigali and I can't wait to meet some of their employees. I would love to witness them in action- it is still a longterm goal of mine to work with R2P in the field.
In other news, a friend from London emailed to say he will be in Tanzania in July. I was planning to visit Crystal (nurse VSO) in TZ anyway. This is something to look forward to for sure ! Now, the question is, should I try Kili then or just go for a visit and wait to try Kili in January or something. The hills of Rwanda are challenging me at the moment so I think perhaps some training is an order before Kili. We'll see. I think I could probably "will" myself up that mountain right now.. haha.
Okay, so this blog is becoming basically like my journal. I am not holding back, and I write what I feel at the time. For me, it's quite liberating to write in an uncensored manner, knowing full well that people will be reading it. I am making quite an effort to leave names and details of other people off my blog and to keep it positive/not critical and above all- HONEST.
Thanks for reading. Take care,
Becky

Quick Blog

2009-05-19T11:57:00.000-07:00

Rumor of a house for me later this week.. here's hoping. Gotta go watch the Italian soap opera I am now addicted to. It's called : Tormento en el Paraiso (Storms over Paradise) and while it is achingly overdramatic it actually pales in comparison to my life right now here in Rwanda. Talk to you all soon. Would love pics from home in the mail so I can put them up on my bedroom wall once I'm in the house.
Be well,
Becky

Turn Left at That Cow!

2009-05-14T19:22:00.000-07:00

So officially I’ve been here for three weeks. Definitely feels like it. I am finding my way around the Kigali area quite easily now using certain landmarks and yes, one of them is veering left at the house with the cow. This has been a great week so far as absolutely NOTHING has gone as expected. My friend Mark had a good quote on the subject which I’d like to share about faith:
(Alan Watts on Faith):
Faith is a state of openness or trust. To have faith is like when you trust yourself to the water. You don't grab hold of the water when you swim, because if you do you will become stiff and tight in the water, and sink. You have to relax, and the attitude of faith is the very opposite of clinging, and holding on. In other words, a person who is fanatic in matters of religion, and clings to certain ideas about the nature of God and the universe becomes a person who has no faith at all. Instead they are holding tight. But the attitude of faith is to let go, and become open to truth, whatever it might turn out to be.
Education: I am learning a fair bit more about the Rwandan Education System. As the curriculum has recently been switched to English (and most teachers have secondary level education consisting primarily of French and Kinyarwanda), you can imagine the challenges. The post-colonial methodologies contribute to the poor quality of teaching. I am incredibly glad to be working in the primary division for maximum impact. To accommodate the masses of students, there is “double shifting” meaning students attend either morning or afternoon. This seems to solve the school vs. work challenge as children can have access to education and still maintain chores at home- (not having to choose either/or). Some schools have feeding programs to encourage school attendance but they are being discouraged in part because the focus is academics and in part because they are notoriously hard to maintain. Solar energy is another priority and getting the one computer a school might have out of a box in the corner and into use is a long-term goal of the headmaster of Ecole St. Dominique (see pic). A primary methodology handbook was created by VSOs and strategies such as mindmaps, QDPA and unique seating plans are included. I’d love to give my colleagues back home a copy of this handbook- it’s got some great ideas! In a bookstore downtown, I spotted Howard Gardner’s book on Multiple Intelligences- a favorite teachers’ college guide. If it’s in the country, that’s a good start, maybe there’s hope for the theory that children need more than “talk and chalk” teaching in the future. When I toured schools last week with a ministry inspector, he spoke passionately about Rwanda’s intitiative to become a “knowledge-based economy”. The fact that Rwanda does not export sugar or coffee or gold, has no resource to speak of and low tourism, makes it necessary for Education to become the focus for their future development. Impressive strategy.
Funny anecdotes: I was in the craft shop (a co-op downtown for local artisans to sell handicrafts) and I only bought a $3 scarf. The vendor was trying to sell me much, much more but I insisted as a volunteer here for a year I could not buy anything more. He said “I hear on the radio that your country is having money problems”. Hmm, an African empathizing about the global recession in the West.
Language/ Communication Issues: Each day there is something lost in translation but I’m finding it increasingly humorous. For instance, yesterday a man said : “I issue you a good day !” and there is a construction sign that I absolutely love (and must get a picture of) that is a small triangle inside of which reads: “Mens at works”. On a more serious note, the ketchup situation here has me quite worried. I’ll order fries and ask for ketchup and the waiter will point to the white glob on my plate and say “but you have mayonnaise” and I’ll politely say “yes, I see the mayonnaise, may I also have ketchup?” to which he’ll respond “but there is mayonnaise”. I can sometimes get a watered down version of “sauce” and sometimes, if I’m really lucky- be rewarded with a bottle of Heinz (there’s no other keinz) but I have to pay 200fr for it.
Trivialities: You can’t eat or drink in public. You can’t walk on the grass. Locals call me “sistah” or “muzungu” and I often answer “mon frere” or “my name’s not muzungu it’s Rebecca”. This always produces quite a chuckle. I’m finding that I’m speaking mainly in French. I really enjoy it. I’d like to get a Kinyarwanda language tutor once I’m set up in my house but have also considered learning Kiswahili as it is the most widely spoken African language and many Rwandans are actually Congolese or Ugandan and speak Swahili over Kinyarwanda.
Guest House Visitors: Since I’ve been here at the Guest House for three weeks, I’ve seen many visitors come and go- and not without some intriguing stories. Each morning at breakfast there is a diverse group of people and in the evening if I am using the internet in the lobby, random conversations are struck- this may be prompted by the Canadian Flag sticker on my laptop. For the record, I will correct anyone (even my Director of Education during a meeting with the Mayor) if they try to call me an American ! At the guest house I have discussed the finer points of peanut butter with a British masters’ student, international politics with a Cameroonian who works in Tanzania on the genocide tribunal and been berated on the “god-complex” of most humanitarian aid-workers by a Swiss jerk.
The guest house staff have become like a second family. Erik works in the kitchen and slides around in these fancy dress shoes which may be a few sizes too big for him. He has the most charming, bright smile. Fulgence is the one whose law dissertation I witnessed at the University last week and Theo is getting married on Sunday and has invited me to the wedding! Clementina and Diana do cleaning and the night guard likes to listen to my hip-hop. They have commiserated with me when at 6am I am waiting out front for the driver and by 7:30am I reluctantly head back to my room because no one has come. I have handed them my phone on several occasions so that they can speak Kinyarwanda for me with the person on the other end who has decided not to understand my French or English! The housing plans are coming along and I think when I do leave Beausejour Guest House I will most likely plan to return a few months from now to check in on my first Rwandan friends.
Well, if you’re still reading this, kudos to you-it’s quite a long blog. I’ll plan to write more frequently and briefer entries. Remind me to tell you of my adventures this morning riding a moto for 2 hours in the freezing rain only to arrive within 3km of the school we wished to visit and find that the muddy road is washed out and we can’t make it even on foot so must turn around! I don’t know why but my reaction to these types of situations is to laugh. “Adventure’s my middle name”. Okay, last anecdote- my phone # here ends in -007 so anytime I share my number with someone,;friend, local or colleague, there is an inevitable James Bond reference. Haha.
K, if in the next few months I am not laughing at these types of experiences, (and feel like crying over them instead)- please give me a proverbial whack over the head.
Ciao for now amigos!

Baby blog

2009-05-10T13:57:00.000-07:00

Highlights of the past few days:
Dinners, swimming, shopping, walking, laughing and chilling out -with friends.
Dancing to live music at a free concert featuring Rwandan hip-hop, reggae, rock music on Saturday night.
Attending a soccer match at Amahoro Stadium between ? (yellow jerseys) and ? (blue jerseys).
Planning for the upcoming week of work- hoping to arrange a school visit and job-shadow with other VSOs.
Found a gym complete with work-out facilities, pool and tennis courts !
Fixed the Microsoft Word problem on my computer.
Rode more motos... :)
Caught up on some sleep.
Finished my second book- the highly recommended "The Kindness of Strangers". It's stories of people who experience random acts of kindness while traveling. It has left me feeling quite inspired.
Wrote and sent 5 postcards.
*** Went to the University of Kigali to watch my Rwandan friend (he works here at the guest house) present his dissertation to earn his law degree. Presentation was in French, he passed, big celebration afterwards, campus was beautiful !
Talk soon, Becky

A preview

2009-05-07T10:40:00.000-07:00

Hi friends,
A quick note to let you know I'll do a proper blog on the weekend. Here is a sneak peak at today's adventures:
*woke up at 5am to catch my ride to the District Office at 6am -(some guy I didn't know named Jean-Baptiste)
*visited 5 primary schools- one of which has an enrollment of 2070 kids (that's not a typo!) and only 27 teachers and 18 classrooms !!!
*our truck flipped off the side of the road and I had to climb out the top (passenger door)... this story is unbelievable and I have some great photos of who helped us lift the truck back on to the road :)
Hopefully I've peaked your interest. I had a nice Skype chat with my family tonight and I've enjoyed your facebook messages very much !
P.S. The kids here are absolutely delightful and I can't wait to start working directly with them.
PICTURES WILL BE UP SOON !!

Kamonyi in the sky !!

2009-05-04T12:12:00.000-07:00

Today I took it upon myself to visit my village, Kamonyi, located 30km from Kigali. I took a moto to the main bus terminal (where nearly 100 buses were stationed- it was a circus!) and then caught the bus to Gitarama, which promised to let me off at Kamonyi (about halfway to Gitarama). Actually, many of the locals on the bus called to the driver to let the "muzungu" off when we neared Kamonyi. It was kinda cool. Still with me here? Then I took a moto up to the District Education Office, which was literally up, up, up a very steep hill on an unpaved road. It was in fact a 10km ride, directly up ! When I reached the top I looked out on the horizon and discovered that I was at the same level as the clouds ! I think if I do begin work here, I will acclimatize pretty quickly- which in the long run serves me well for my future Kilimanjaro trek.
I said a quick hello at the District Office- the trip was more for my benefit than theirs, and returned to Kigali. Tomorrow I will travel to Gitarama and visit with Bruce for a few days. He has promised to take me on some school visits and I am really looking forward to doing some work- even simulated work will do.
Not much else to report, so here are some random Rwandan facts.
- In 2006, Rwanda banned plastic bags. You must travel with your own bag to carry your things.
-Pedestrians do NOT have the right of way, in fact, I am not concerned with falling off a moto- more concerned about being hit by one in motion.
-Birdwatching is big here. No wonder, given each day sounds like a "Nature" CD
- The government randomly decided to make English Rwanda's language of choice recently so along with Kinyarwanda and French, people are encouraged to speak English. On my bus ride to Kamonyi, a language tape was playing.
- The main roads here are in incredibly good shape. Smooth, paved and easy to travel. I think Ontario's urban planners could take notes, as there are actually few potholes. The unpaved roads however are a different story. I was actually raised from my seat several times as I rode the moto up to Kamonyi on a dirt road.
-Shopping so far is very random. In the markets, each store seems to sell the same stuff. Lots of bags/backpacks/purses, rubber bins, flashlights, hair products and an assortment of things. In the larger shops, for example the Nakumatt (Rwanda's Walmart), there are many familiar products like Head & Shoulders and Toblerone. Even in the most remote rural areas I've seen signs for Coca-Cola. Total world domination, eh?
Anyway, I have many more trivialities to share with you, but I'm quite tired. (Fatigue is a common thread on my blog, I'm hoping that it's just an adjustment period). Hope everything is going well back in Canada.
Footnote: I have been asked on three occasions now-mostly by other expats, why Canadians always wear the symbol of Canada ? (I have a Canadian flag pin on my bag). I tried to explain that a) I am proud to be from Canada and b) I don't want to be mistaken for an American and c) even if I were at home, wearing Canadian paraphernalia is not uncommon. I guess I'd never given it much thought but it's true- we do love our Maple Leaf :) Wait until July 1st, eh?

Chillin' at Kivu

2009-05-03T11:12:00.000-07:00

When I close my eyes, I can still see them. Hulking blue mountains, layer upon layer of hauntingly beautiful hills-a backdrop to a seamless horizon. I asked my friend "Are those clouds or mountains?" She answered "Mountains." Across the lake was a thinly veiled blue line, darker than the blue of the sky- the Congo.
(I know my pictures won't do it justice.)
The 3 hour drive to Kibuye in an 8-seater van with 16 people in it, on winding roads with a driver who uses the lowest gear going uphill to conserve fuel and then puts it in neutral as we weave down and around 45* bends- was quite the thrill ride ! On the return trip we nearly took out a cow, his shepherd and a cyclist as we veered around blind corners and were witness to no less than THREE fuel trucks overturned in ditches.
We arrived at Centre Bethanie to discover that our rooms overlooked Lake Kivu. If not for the active volcano in the distance, it could be mistaken for a cottage in the Muskokas. At night the volcano glowed a bright orange and during the day it looked like a geometric-shaped cloud-making machine as it pumped out puffs of white cottonballs from its' top shelf! We went for a swim, had breakfast and then booked a boat to Amahoro Island only to discover many other tourists there (Americans!) and a previously unmentioned 1,000 Rfr "boarding the island" fee. No thanks ! We directed the boat driver to an island just in the distance and set up camp amongst the trees and rocky ground.
Immediately, myself and two other VSOs set off "To explore!" and decided to circumnavigate the entire island ! It was a blast- in particular because the only way to do this was on foot, crawling and clamboring over the rocky shore b/c the torso of the island was too thick with brush and thorny nettles to cross. (I have to say this might be the highlight so far of my time here). We slipped in several times, had to abandon various items (like sandals and cellphones) along the way and retrieve them later by boat and had fun debating if there were any other mammals sharing this island with us (in particular VSO-eating warthogs !) The aimless, careless abandon with which we explored reminded me a little of the adrenalin rush I get when skiing out of bounds at Sunshine Village with Jay. Always a little unsure if it's a good idea, assessing the risks and ambling on anyway- good fun !!
Other firsts:
Riding a moto at night on a dirt road... in a skirt ! I'll have to get a picture of me on one of these motos so you can truly appreciate what it's like. I have to say, I really enjoy my moto rides now. It's quite freeing and adventurous. I had dinner with 7 other VSOs across town. It's been great to meet other expats. They are friendly, generous and I can tell that I will make some lasting friendships here.
The scenic drive to Kibuye gave me a lot of insight into the rural Rwanda. We drove through Kamonyi (my future placement?). Almost every inch of the countryside is cultivated. It's not uncommon to see a girl of 8 or 9 working on the hillside, digging or swinging a pickaxe at the dirt- with no adult in sight- cultivating the land. Even younger kids wander about the side of the road, children of 3 or 4- some carrying tiny versions of jerrycans. It's a wonder. Today on the city bus home (after the bus from Kibuye dropped us off), two little boys about the age of 2 boarded with a granny. Because the bus had nearly 20 people on it, granny got shuffled to the back and one kid ended up by the door and one ended up in the aisle. Neither kid cried for granny and granny didn't say anything either. Instead, whoever was nearest to each child, picked them up respectively and sat them on their knee. The bus driver's assistant even at one point, lifted one of them off the bus, to allow other passengers off and then lifted him by the arm back on the bus. It was as if each Rwandan was personally responsible for the wellbeing of these two toddlers until granny reached her stop and dismounted the bus with her two little charges. What's that expression- it takes a village to raise a child?
Well, I'm quite tired, unsure of what tomorrow holds and have this unsettling feeling of happiness warming over me right now. Is it possible that I'm enjoying Rwanda already?
'Night.

Great Day !!

2009-04-30T08:29:00.000-07:00

Today was great. The country director called me directly and I think the placement details will work themselves out eventually. I went into Kigali on the bus -the bus driver's assistant was wearing a Toronto Maple Leafs sweater !!! Tina took me to set up my bank account - hourray! and she showed me all the essentials like the post office, the doctor's office, the best book shop (which by the way is full of French language resources) and some cute African craft shops. I bought a keychain that makes me laugh. Instead of saying "I love you" it is inscribed :
"I LAUGH YOU"- I guess a little lost in translation but I get a chuckle when I look at it. When I get keys for my new house, I will use it as a keychain. I saw Hotel Mille Collines- it's right downtown and tomorrow I am going to Lake Kivu for the weekend with 12 other VSOs !! I am soooo excited to have a little fun and see some of the countryside ! Tonight I am having dinner at Chez Lando. I'm sure by Monday I will have some more pictures to post. For now, I have faith that everything is going to get a little easier. I did learn that my house will not have electricity- eek! Talk soon, bye.

Happy Blogs

2009-04-29T13:19:00.001-07:00

K, this cutie in the photo approached me today on my walk and started posing. What a nice reminder of why I'm here. There is a primary school next door to this guest house. It's like a promise of things to come. I just reread my previous blogs and am disappointed about all the griping. It felt good to write them at the time but I don't like reading them. This is going to be a quick, happy blog.
I had dinner tonight with three VSOs. Seeing their house and sitting down to a meal with friends was great. They are somewhat shocked by my stories- their experiences were NOT like that at all. Today at dinner I also heard funny anecdotes about giant moths with teddy bear faces, tarantulas in the bathroom- YES, ACTUAL TARANTULAS, and stand-offs with rats of various sizes inside the house.
As I mentioned, I went for a walk today with my camera- my good one. I took lots of scenic shots, it takes a long time to upload them so it won't be up tonight, maybe soon. I was walking because I had spent most of the day, unsuccessfully, trying to meet my employer. Good news, they are looking for a new house for me. Yippee ! And I've been invited away for the weekend to Kibuye which is on Lake Kivu, I'm seriously considering going :)
Kind of what keeps me going is the thought of actually getting into a classroom and working with the local teachers. I remember my day in the classroom in Ghana and how completely uplifting the whole teaching experience was. Perhaps, as I sit here completely exhausted and fairly discouraged, the memory of that day will sustain me.
Must sleep.
Tomorrow another VSO is going to take me into town and help me set up the mysterious bank account. A demain mes amis !!

Things that make you go hmmm?

2009-04-28T12:55:00.000-07:00

I had another "interesting" day. I want to blog about it but don't want this in any way to reflect my opinions of VSO as I have met many wonderful employees and have felt very welcomed and appreciated. I know that my working relationships will survive these challenges and I am still feeling very positive about the whole thing. I imagine this is just a set of unfortunate circumstances? and look forward to the difficulties being minimized soon.
That disclaimer out of the way, here we go:
Went to the office at 9am, meeting didn't happen until 11am. Was told (incorrectly) that I have to pay for my household equipment myself, that my VISA app. is underway (it's not) and then it was suggested that I move into my house even though it does not have a solid roof.. and by the way you'll have no electricity- here is how you use a kerosene stove and charcoal. Bruce (another Education VSO) suggested I come to Gitarama today and he would take me on a school visit with him in the morning but I asked and was told to stay here in Kigali :( There were still no arrangements to take me into town so I hopped on a motobike myself with my large empty backpack. This time I kept my eyes open for the ride, my legs weren't jelly but I did vomit a little in my mouth :)
Went to the bank again- did not have 2 passport photos required. Called office. Oh yeah, come back and get them. Strike two with the setting up of the bank account. Went to a shop called Nakumatt which is the Wal-mart of Rwanda. Am considering once I'm in my house of spending some of my own money on a lazy-boy recliner I saw there. Maybe? Spent my household allowance on pots, pans and a pillow- all of which fit nicely in my large backpack. Walked on my own through the open market which unlike Ghana, has vendors but not overly aggressive ones. Random shops with random things. It was nice to get my bearings because though I had been there on Friday briefly, I couldn't have told you which way was up at that point. I did get hassled a fair bit but like I mentioned in my previous blog, once you establish a smile and hello, the tone of the interaction changes completely. I've come to think also that maybe because of my experiences with Mike, I am somewhat used to being stared at in public and it doesn't really bother me. I never once felt unsafe or threatened. With the altitude, I get worn out quickly and after 2 hours of walking- and no money to buy lunch, I hailed a mototaxi and returned to the office.
I think they were more than a little surprised that I had gone into town alone and returned with my supplies but I had insisted several times on a driver taking me and not gotten anywhere with the request. I feel better that I atleast have a pot for cooking so if I do end up having to go to my house very soon, I'll be able to cook something- assuming I don't blow myself up with the kerosene stove !
Now, the best news of the day is that a few emails I put in yesterday to the Country Director (who is in UK with newborn twins) and to my VSO boss (who is on assignment in Ethiopia) have been answered and I think some of these logistical nightmares will be dealt with tomorrow.
I am considering being firm about the house. Interestingly enough I was offered two choices:
A) Live at the Catholic Diocese in a one-room, the nuns will cook all my meals, I'll have a 6pm curfew and be allowed NO visitors or B) a 3-room house of my own with no electricity but I can hire a domestic to do my cooking, it has a fence around it but no roof. I seriously considered the nuns but I think those restrictions (of curfew and no visitors) will turn out to be quite limiting a few months from now when I have my routines established. I have thought seriously about insisting on electricity but am wondering if I should atleast give it a try without first? Any thoughts on this people? FYI: I had Mr. Noodles and an orange for dinner.

This is Rwanda

2009-04-28T12:24:00.000-07:00

David asked me yesterday what the view from my window was and I did an inadequate job of describing it to him. Basically, I feel inhibited by my vocabulary. Think of the green hills of Scotland, now picture them in all four directions with a backdrop of marshmallow-white clouds and perfect blue sky. The green is really green. You know when you buy a set of pencil crayons (not the 12pak but the 64pak) and there are like 8 different shades of green? Yeah, that's the foliage in Rwanda -all eight pencil crayons! The temperature hovers around 24-27 with a cool breeze- it's the rainy season. The birds make strange sounds pretty much 24/7 with a range of chirping, hooting, clucking, doorbell rings and what can only be described as "angry bird singing". In particular the one that lives outside my window- (although I have no idea what I've done to piss him off.) The air is very fragrant, even so much as stopping to acknowledge the perfume aroma near a purple bush. Today I experienced my first rain storm- as I was trying to nap no less ! and the buckets of rain made me dream of being inside a washing machine on rinse cycle. The rolling thunder was like a giant's grumbling hungry belly. (I did end up going down to the lobby to chat with my friends at the frontdesk during the storm- not that I was scared or anything?! )
The street is in constant motion. At the nearest intersection to my guest house, there are always around 60 or so people- mostly men ages 25-40-milling about. They chuckle, whistle and stare. For the most part, I greet this with a "Miriwe" or "Bonjour, comment ca va?". In training we learned the importance of making local contacts and somehow I think that friendliness will pay off in the end. I spoke earlier of the "guarded" nature of Rwandans. One can only imagine the motivation behind their wariness of others. The important thing I've noticed is that after a smile and a hello, most locals become quite friendly. I have had several very helpful encounters with complete strangers. At the bank (for the second time today I was denied an account), a young man asked if he could help me and then after my exchange at the teller, followed up to see if I had gotten what I needed. At the local store, the clerk gave back the extra francs I had accidentally paid her- (any advice on how to convert from Canadian $1 to $500 Rfr more quickly would be greatly appreciated- my human calculator is broken). When I have encountered challenges, right alongside them seems to be a Rwandan stranger, intent on helping me solve the problem.
Now, I'm not sure how to describe the darker side I've seen. It is in no way reflective of the nature of Rwandans, but merely their unfortunate circumstances. I'm fairly certain that I have not yet processed all that I've seen. Here it is in "Coles Notes" version. There are many people here missing limbs. I had to say "no" to a man on crutches today who was selling batik because I had no francs. I was actively pursued by two limbless men in wheelchairs in downtown Kigali. Women with babies at their breasts beg me for money in groups. A little boy lifted up his shirt to pat his belly and asked for food. I have decided to take this all in and acknowledge that I cannot possibly help them financially. Instead I will greet every person I see with eye contact, a warm smile and speak what little kinyarwanda I know. I recognize how insufficient and lacking this approach is but my humanity is all I can afford to offer.
In my conversations with David and Leah last night, the subject of the genocide came up. It is hard for me to think about it but also impossible not to. I realize that the people I pass on the street are not all victims, some are perpetrators. My guest house faces Chez Lando where horrible things happened and on the way to town you pass a church that Dallaire speaks about in his book. I wanted to write the truth about what I'm seeing and feeling. No matter how difficult. Not to worry, my next post (which I'm going to write momentarily) will have you chuckling at my expense as I describe my logistical nightmare- here's a preview: my house has no roof.. "you move in, it's okay, maybe we fix?"
Thanks for reading.

My Productive (?) Day in Kigali

2009-04-27T13:12:00.000-07:00

Today was a little challenging. I was at the office at 10 and by 12:30 my scheduled appointment still had not arrived. I met another VSO who took me downtown with her and I had lunch with three new friends. As it is unclear whether or not my house is ready, I am in limbo at the Guest House in Kigali. Most of my attempts to "get things done" have been laughable. I think the challenge lies in the fact that most volunteers arrive together and therefore figure things out amongst themselves. I do not have that luxury. So after lunch, I headed out to find a replacement phone (the one I bought Friday has ceased to function). I'm pretty sure I got ripped off but having no phone is unacceptable around here. I might try and return the damaged phone at some point but we'll see. I also need to get household equipment like pots and pans/blankets/pillow/jerrycans but doing that without a driver to bring them home is impossible. My next task was setting up a bank account. I went to the bank to try and set one up. The letter VSO had given me was not sufficient and after waiting 45 minutes in line to get to the teller was told that I couldn't set up an account. At this point I'm on my own in downtown Kigali, there are ominous gray clouds overhead and my only choices to get back home are taxi (expensive), bus (can't find the bus stop) or mototaxi (looks like suicide on wheels). Feeling pretty overwhelmed, I find the nearest African gift shop so that I can buy myself a little trinket to lift my spirits. I don't see anything I like except lots of ceramic turtles (I have too many turtle things as it is) so I leave the shop. Getting harassed on the street is commonplace and I think it's wearing on me a bit. I was feeling quite low and then.. "Rebecca?" I turn around and there is Victor- the charming "businessman" kid I met yesterday on my walk to the Amahoro Stadium. He is selling batik (artwork that his brother has made such as postcards and maps) with a friend. I have to say, seeing Victor and chatting with him absolutely made my day. It made me wonder, had I waited to try again at the bank, had I gotten right into a taxi or lingered longer at the store- would our paths have crossed?
I get a text from my morning appointment that he will meet me now at the office. I hail a mototaxi driver and remind him "Slow, slow, slow" and put on the helmet he gives me with a cracked faceshield. I think my eyes were closed for the first few minutes of the trip. I was torn between looking and not looking as we weaved in and out of traffic and over speedbumps and potholes. It was quite the ride. When we arrived, I dismounted and my legs were like jell-o. It is highly unlikely that I will learn to ride one of these myself !
So I head back to the office to meet my appointment, wait about 20 minutes and he doesn't show. It's 5pm. I decide enough is enough and head home. Altogether I'm not sure what I accomplished today. I'm glad I have a working phone, I'm glad to have met Victor again (I bought four of his brother's postcards- a sure "pick me up" souvenir !) and I met three new VSO friends. Maybe all in all it was a productive day. I skyped with Leah and David and then went out around 8:30pm to find dinner. Amazingly American Pie 2 was on at the restaurant- in kinyarwanda !! Last I heard my house still isn't ready- my curiosity has peaked.
Tomorrow I will attempt once again to head into town and get my much needed supplies and try again at the bank- but I think this time I'll travel by bus :)
Cheers !

Kigali Adventures

2009-04-26T07:21:00.000-07:00

Greetings from Kigali ! I have officially been in Rwanda for three days but it feels more like three weeks on account of all the stories I have to tell you. To begin with, the travel here was quite extensive- flying from Toronto to London to Nairobi- over 32 hours. I met my first Rwandan friend Alice at the Nairobi airport, where in typical African fashion, she invited me to visit her in Kigali once I'm settled in and gifted me a bracelet and two rings. Arriving in Kigali, I was pleased to meet Jean-Claude, my local Program Support Officer. We went to the Program Office and I met the staff, had my first Kinyarwanda language lesson and returned to the Guest House- where I was asleep by 7:30pm. The following day, Bosco (our driver) and I went with Chantal and Norbert (two other VSOs) to register with the Canadian Embassy, visit the polyclinic, the dental office and the markets. Chantal is Kenyan and she helped me barter for a phone and some basic food/cooking supplies to survive my first week in Kamonyi- a very rural village southwest of Kigali where I will be living. In the afternoon I met with Charlotte my VSO boss and we discussed my placement which revolves around teaching "child-centred methodology" to primary teachers at six schools in the Kamonyi District. I am very excited about the job description and equally excited to meet my colleagues and see my house !
On Saturday, Charlotte and I went to lunch at a very nice coffee shop and met up with Christine (another VSO). Christine had secured us an invitation to the Canadian Ambassador's house for a swim and a barbeque ! (see pics) Following that, I went with Bruce to a house party down the street from my Guest House with about 40 other expatriates, most of whom work for various NGOs.
So today is Sunday, I have the day to myself and took a long walk around Kigali. I saw the UN offices and the Amahoro Soccer Stadium. (I can walk for about an hour before the effects of the altitude get to me.) On my walks, I am the only white person and I've begun to wonder whether I am in fact the only redhead in Rwanda ! The locals are friendly, although quite guarded. I've made a point of saying hello in Kinyarwanda or striking up a conversation with those that just stare at me. Mostly what I find is that once you initiate conversation, the locals are quite friendly. There are a fair amount of people begging for money/food. It is often very difficult to turn away. My first experience with this was a young boy of 10 who approached me with his hands out asking for money. I spoke to him in French, asking him his name and how he was- and with a little smile he said "Olivier". Once we established that I had no money to give him, we began talking. The next day when I saw him again, he asked for money once more. "Olivier? Comment ca va?" He seemed very surprised and pleased that I remembered his name and began to walk with me for some time. Eventually he informed me- ("no france ma'am") that despite his very French sounding name, he himself does not speak french- probably as a result of not having gone to school. The next interesting kid I met was Vincent, who at 17 years of age, introduced himself to me as a "businessman". He said he had many Canadian contacts and wanted to be sure that I remember his face. He was quite the charmer.
Since I am the only VSO who has arrived at this time, I am finding that most things require initiative and a resourceful and patient attitude. I am alone at this guest house and have had to find ways to answer my own questions. I asked the desk clerk at the hotel to describe the phone card system to me and where to catch a bus and how to find a forexe to exchange money. I imagine that volunteers that arrive together (and have 10 days of training to my 2) would find these things out together. I am a bit disappointed that that's the case however I think in the long run, it will be useful to be self-reliant.
Since this is my first blog, I have kept it mostly fact-based. In future entries I will try to be more descriptive and tell you more about the amazing landscapes, sights, sounds, smells and experiences. So far, there is nothing I miss from home even though it is a challenging living environment here. I actually bought Eckhart Tolle's book "The Power of Now" at the airport but funnily enough I don't think I'll need to read it. Each day here MUST be lived one moment at a time because I don't know what comes next. It is fascinating, intimidating and fulfilling all at once. I catch myself wondering if I will make it through the 12 months and then I'm reminded that I need not measure everything as good or bad, success or failure- I feel so blessed to be here !