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.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Akagera National Park
Karen and I were commiserating that we never do anything fun- Gitarama can be a very quiet, sleepy place at night. If an expat hasn’t planned a games night or dinner, there is little to do and after exhausting most of my DVD supply, we really needed SOMETHING to do! So we picked up the Rwanda Bradt Guide Book on Tuesday night and decided on Akagera National Park. It is in the far east of the country, right on the Rwanda/Tanzania border and with a friend living in the area to stay with, we organized a driver and set out for some safari adventuring.
Can I just mention that I was a little over-excited about this trip? Honestly if I had seen one animal I would’ve been happy. After chimp trekking in Nyungwe Forest for four hours and seeing NO chimpanzees, I was psyched for some nature. On a tight budget, we hired a local man with a matata (basically like the mini-buses from town) and he picked us up at 5:30am on Saturday morning. Now, the reaction of our tour guide at the park was priceless. There were six other vehicles there that day- all of them SUV’s, Jeeps or 4x4s and we pull up in a rusted out bus whose doors won’t close properly. When we came across a dozen buffalo, one of whom was not too pleased with our presence, the guide alerted us to “not make any noise just now” and Karen and I could not stop giggling at the thought of a male buffalo vs broken-down matata showdown. Who would win do you think? He’s pictured on the right of my blog.
Seeing the giraffes was magnificent! You know in the movies “Dances with Wolves” or “Last of the Mohicans” when there are scenes on the prairie and its’ vastness is accompanied by sweeping, epic music? I kept hearing that music in my head as we communed with these graceful animals. They walk with opposite hand and opposite leg but when they run, they saunter. Their necks look too heavy for their bodies to support and the patterning of their skin is incredible. We were quite close to a male and female who were trying, albeit unsuccessfully, to mate. I said to Karen, “I don’t really want to see this, but if I get a good photo I’m selling it to National Geographic!” As it turned out, Mrs. Giraffe was playing hard to get and kept running off as Mr. Giraffe attempted to jump on.
We saw many baboon, impala, bushbuck, birds of extraordinary colour and the Tanzanian coastline! In between animal sightings, it was a very bumpy, uncomfortable ride with the only two seats in the matata seemingly ready to break free of their hinges. Only the back window opened so when an animal was spotted, we had to hop over the seat to hang out the back window, or sit on the spare tire in the back. Several times, while off-roading it appeared as though we were stuck and might have to get out and push our 'little engine that could' back onto the road. Karen kept saying “This’ll make a better story in the end” and I kept thinking “but what end exactly?”
We entertained ourselves by trying to spot various animals which is quite tricky as there are lion-coloured rocks and giraffe-like tree branches EVERYWHERE! We also enjoyed acknowledging our fellow adventurers in their SUVs who gave us two girls in our cheapmobile strange looks all morning. We started to sing the songs from the Lion King and just at that moment, our guide said “Look, it’s Pumba and the kids!” A family of five warthogs ran by. The three little ones scurried hurrily beside mom and dad; just as frightened and horrified by our white matata as the khaki-clad SUV people.
Down by the water was the real treat. Many hippos floated contently in the water. Our guide encouraged us to get out of the van and walk closer for the sake of photos. The SUV group beside us was seen to be gesturing and arguing with their guide about the fact that we were out of the car and one by one, they also got out to investigate. It was the sounds the hippos made that impressed me the most. From time to time their nostrils cleared the waterline and “POOF!” they took a breath and then disappeared again. There was a tiny baby crocodile skimming across the surface as well, and we were reluctant to stay longer fearing that Mama crocodile was probably very near. Other highlights were seeing the sacred Ibis, baboons with babies clinging on, the monkey from Friends and just the whole experience in general- far better than another Saturday watching movies on the laptop.
Elephants hadn’t been spotted in over a month. That was the one disappointment, I had really hoped to see elephants. Maybe next time…
Karen and I thanked our guide, who reminded us to come in a “real vehicle” next time. We just laughed and climbed back in our rustmobile to clunker our way back home, nursing very sore backsides but with very satisfied curiosities.
Can I just mention that I was a little over-excited about this trip? Honestly if I had seen one animal I would’ve been happy. After chimp trekking in Nyungwe Forest for four hours and seeing NO chimpanzees, I was psyched for some nature. On a tight budget, we hired a local man with a matata (basically like the mini-buses from town) and he picked us up at 5:30am on Saturday morning. Now, the reaction of our tour guide at the park was priceless. There were six other vehicles there that day- all of them SUV’s, Jeeps or 4x4s and we pull up in a rusted out bus whose doors won’t close properly. When we came across a dozen buffalo, one of whom was not too pleased with our presence, the guide alerted us to “not make any noise just now” and Karen and I could not stop giggling at the thought of a male buffalo vs broken-down matata showdown. Who would win do you think? He’s pictured on the right of my blog.
Seeing the giraffes was magnificent! You know in the movies “Dances with Wolves” or “Last of the Mohicans” when there are scenes on the prairie and its’ vastness is accompanied by sweeping, epic music? I kept hearing that music in my head as we communed with these graceful animals. They walk with opposite hand and opposite leg but when they run, they saunter. Their necks look too heavy for their bodies to support and the patterning of their skin is incredible. We were quite close to a male and female who were trying, albeit unsuccessfully, to mate. I said to Karen, “I don’t really want to see this, but if I get a good photo I’m selling it to National Geographic!” As it turned out, Mrs. Giraffe was playing hard to get and kept running off as Mr. Giraffe attempted to jump on.
We saw many baboon, impala, bushbuck, birds of extraordinary colour and the Tanzanian coastline! In between animal sightings, it was a very bumpy, uncomfortable ride with the only two seats in the matata seemingly ready to break free of their hinges. Only the back window opened so when an animal was spotted, we had to hop over the seat to hang out the back window, or sit on the spare tire in the back. Several times, while off-roading it appeared as though we were stuck and might have to get out and push our 'little engine that could' back onto the road. Karen kept saying “This’ll make a better story in the end” and I kept thinking “but what end exactly?”
We entertained ourselves by trying to spot various animals which is quite tricky as there are lion-coloured rocks and giraffe-like tree branches EVERYWHERE! We also enjoyed acknowledging our fellow adventurers in their SUVs who gave us two girls in our cheapmobile strange looks all morning. We started to sing the songs from the Lion King and just at that moment, our guide said “Look, it’s Pumba and the kids!” A family of five warthogs ran by. The three little ones scurried hurrily beside mom and dad; just as frightened and horrified by our white matata as the khaki-clad SUV people.
Down by the water was the real treat. Many hippos floated contently in the water. Our guide encouraged us to get out of the van and walk closer for the sake of photos. The SUV group beside us was seen to be gesturing and arguing with their guide about the fact that we were out of the car and one by one, they also got out to investigate. It was the sounds the hippos made that impressed me the most. From time to time their nostrils cleared the waterline and “POOF!” they took a breath and then disappeared again. There was a tiny baby crocodile skimming across the surface as well, and we were reluctant to stay longer fearing that Mama crocodile was probably very near. Other highlights were seeing the sacred Ibis, baboons with babies clinging on, the monkey from Friends and just the whole experience in general- far better than another Saturday watching movies on the laptop.
Elephants hadn’t been spotted in over a month. That was the one disappointment, I had really hoped to see elephants. Maybe next time…
Karen and I thanked our guide, who reminded us to come in a “real vehicle” next time. We just laughed and climbed back in our rustmobile to clunker our way back home, nursing very sore backsides but with very satisfied curiosities.
Soccer with the First Lady
Nearly three weeks ago I had the unique opportunity to play in a charity soccer match in support of the One Dollar Campaign. This charity supports children orphaned by AIDS. This involved me arriving at Amahoro Stadium in Kigali around 1pm on Saturday to meet “the team”. Our team was a group of women expats working in Kigali for various NGOs or wives of NGO workers. The game was scheduled for 2pm and in true Rwandan fashion, we sat for four and a half hours waiting for our turn to play. There were several kids matches planned and we quickly realized that the six year olds were possibly putting on a better show, with their jerseys hanging to their knees like dresses, than how we expected to perform. Being the only non-Kigali based player and having not been to practice during the week, I was not starting and there was not a uniform for me. As luck would have it Nancy Barry didn’t show and I got her jersey. Guess what? It was number 10, a number I’ve played with for years!! Love those types of coincidences. The stadium became very full as we sat in the dressing room, occasionally playing team-building games, stretching and kicking the ball around trying not to break any windows. The prime minister of Rwanda came by to say “hi!” and take photos and soon enough, it was our turn. I can’t tell you how delightful it was to be waiting under the stadium, peering out at the crowd and being advised by the coordinators to behave; “It’s like the World Cup! Must follow protocol!” Too funny. We ran a lap of the field, trying to play up to the crowd a bit since it was a charity event. Our competitors were the Women of Parliament- including none other than President Kagame’s wife Jeannette. We were strongly encouraged to not make contact with her on the field and further more, to make her look good. She is a very tall lady with a nice smile and a pleasant manner. I guarded her in the second half and we had some nice conversations, but more on that later.
Sitting out the first five minutes was unbearable, I wanted to be on the field!! Finally, it was my turn and I ran out to my spot on left wing. Within minutes I had the ball and a breakaway. It was called back because one of my team mates was offside. Second time out, I broke away again, dribbled inside the 18 yard box and let one go. The goalie blocked it but didn’t grab the rebound, I followed up and put it in the top left corner! It was sooooo much fun !
One of the coolest parts of the game was that my friend Christi had come down to watch me play. She was up in the bleachers cheering away- my own personal fan club! There were a few VSO there too and the atmosphere was so energizing! By half-time we were up 3-0. I had seven more breakaways that were all called back because one of our players insisted on hanging out by their goalie?! It reminded me very much of last summer and how much I dislike playing “recreational” sports. It’s competitive or not at all for me :)
At halftime I got a little talking to that we collectively needed to try less and make it look a little more even for the sake of the Parliamentary women. I volunteered to play centre defense for the second half. This required some creative performances as I mostly ran away from the attacking player who had the ball. At one point, I let Jeannette Kagame pass the ball through my legs!! It was kinda funny but the crowd reaction was worth it. Midway through the second, we realized that the Parliamentaries had brought on several new players, including a 14 year old boy from one of the previous games. He was like a mini-Ronaldinho and I don’t think I could’ve covered him if I had been trying !! Anyway, they caught up 3-3 and then the boy took a dramatic dive inside the 18-yard box. The President’s wife took and scored the penalty to a roaring ovation! It couldn’t have ended any better. After the game, photo ops and a bit of dancing on the field with both teams, I made a quick getaway to catch a very late bus back to Gitarama with my cheerleader/friend, Christi. The next day on the evening news, the lead story was the soccer match. My goal was featured in the highlights. Does life get much better than this?
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?
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
"Bring a Tree to School" Day
No need to bore you with stories of my malaria, amoebas and typhoid. Here are some entertaining stories:
Last visit to Rubona Primary School, I witnessed children of all sizes dragging large branches and tree limbs along the road. Evidently, the school needs a new fence and each child was instructed to bring a tree with them as contribution- one of which came in handy when Pascal and I roofed my Frisbee. We used a tree branch as a reaching device to retrieve it.
Funniest moment in recent weeks had to be standing outside our neighbourhood shop and seeing a young boy running by at full speed, screaming as if all hell was breaking loose- followed momentarily by a few weeks old baby goat who was chasing him playfully!
There is a little boy in Primary 2 who squishes up his face each time he tries to catch the ball. Don't know if you can picture it, but try.
Last week's English Club had us reading letters aloud (we are hoping to find future penpals at Princess Anne French Immersion School in London, Ontario) and identifying adjectives, nouns, adverbs, etc in teams. Winning team got to do the Hokey Pokey with the teacher- major motivator!
Umuganda in September involved digging drainage ditches and moving piles of debris from one spot to the other. The obligatory volunteering on the last Saturday of each month continues to be something I really want to participate in and paid off ten-fold last week when we asked our Umudugudu leader Alphonse (the person responsible for our neighbourhood community) to assist us with an aggressive, unruly man. Alphonse came to our house, heard our story and said quite simply: "Give me two days". Problem solved. On a lighter note, one of the issues on the table at the monthly meeting was advising everyone NOT TO KEEP YOUR COW IN YOUR HOUSE. It is advisable to build a pen outside of the house to keep your cow and not to keep him in the house with you. I'm guessing theft plays a big role here, either that or a lack of hamsters available to keep as pets?!
Forgot to share this one awhile ago.. Karen and I were walking home one night from a friend's house in a thunderstorm (lightning and downpour included) and decided to pass by the empty market only to be met by two growling, fierce dogs feeding on something. Luckily we didn't run and they seemed to be more interested in protecting their feast than us. Still- quite frightening!
Dr. Suess where are you? Never have I wanted storybooks or novels more than here. The children at the primary schools and in particular my little friends in the neighbourhood seemingly have never had stories read to them. Wish I had packed less clothes and more children's storybooks!
Waterbottle bowling, Stella-ela-ola, rocket balloons, thumb wars, badminton, pingpong at the cultural centre... fun is mandatory! We affectionately refer to these impromptu games with the children as "Les Jeux Obligatoires". I make Emmanuel, my guard, participate. I don't think he minds. Last week, Emmanuel and his brother Silas played a quite competitive badminton match in our front yard. I found myself acknowledging that most likely they didn't play like this as children for at the age of 7 Emmanuel was seeing his parents killed in the genocide. I had the reluctant role of referee/scorekeeper. Even though it was in kinyarwanda, I could understand the nature of trashtalking and egging each other on. Emmanuel (also known as "Stretch") is about 3 feet taller than his older brother Silas. FYI: Silas is our new nightguard, Emmanuel has been promoted to dayguard/house manager.
Pingpong Moment: I bought a set of paddles and balls in Kigali once I learned that our neighbourhood Cultural Centre had a table. Took Jean-Pierre and the boys to play and after a few instructions and each boy taking a turn, we were surprised to have visitors. On a Wednesday afternoon, two middle-aged men pulled up on one moto, wearing Adidas tracksuits and carrying what looked like small tennis racket bags. In the miniature tennis racket bags were pingpong paddles and a proper net. They shared with me that they play competitive pingpong...EVERYDAY!! Too funny.
Found chocolate ice cream in Kigali. One scoop= one dollar. Awesome!
Rough days for sports equipment; the soccer ball, basketball and small purple ball I bought have all succumb to the rocky terrain and have burst. Thinking about replacing them soon though- "Ndashaka gukina football namwe!!" I hear every afternoon from the kids. Translated: "I want to play football with you!"
On the bus is where the majority of my greatest stories come from. For instance, returning from Kamonyi at 3pm, having not eaten since 6am, on a really hot day, dying of thirst- I asked one of the Rugubagoba boys if he had any water for sale. This particular boy greets me every time the bus stops there. He has one normal arm and one chicken wing and I spoke of him before as I was wishing he had another purpose besides begging at the bus. In any case, he always greets me and on this particularly sweltering day, I decided to take advantage. "Ufite amazzi?" (Do you have water?) He says: "300 francs" and I hand the coins out the window. He proceeds to run off and there is a mild chatter amongst my passengers who are amused that the foreigner is being ripped off by the street kid. "Wait. Just you wait" I say to the smirkers. The bus is being loaded, I look down the lane and don't see the boy. Then...just as we're about to pull away there he is, running as fast as his little feet can carry him, arm flailing in the wind. He rushes up to my window, big bright smile and hands me a waterbottle. I thank him, give him a small tip and look a little indignantly at my non-believing fellow passengers. I just knew he'd come back and he did.
Marie, the lady whose roof was caving in and who couldn't afford rent on her new residence and had asked us for money- has landed on her feet. She and her 10 month old son Jean-Paul have new dwellings and she has new employment. She looks really well. Something makes me wonder if we had given her the 7,000 francs, would she have solved the problem as well as she has? In any case, we have decided to have her over each Sunday afternoon. Last week, at our request, she brought Clementina with her. Clementina was sent to live with her grandparents awhile ago because her father was abusive to the family. We had a delightful visit- Clementina on her very best behaviour (nothing like a well-behaved 3 year old!) and Jean-Paul livening things up by touching/pulling/knocking over everything in sight- as only a ten month old can!
We are learning a lot more about our neighbours. Some of it good, some of it not. For instance, Fils (frowning boy) is an orphan. He lives in a small hut a few doors down from us, and he is 11 years old. It seems as though there isn't any family at all and the storeowner told us he has no parents. Surely SOMEONE is looking out for him?! Jean-Pierre (green sweater/basketball buddy) has no mother. He is often kept home from school to look after his father. Not sure if that's due to illness or drinking. And Serge (also known as Trouble #1 or Bandito) has no parents, just four older siblings, the eldest 14.
I think I knew there were hardships, I wasn't ignoring that. I just thought that these children, who play, laugh, offer hugs and are so charitable towards me, weren't suffering in that way. The most remarkable part of the story is that their neighbours and people completely unrelated to them, are looking out. While they may have very little food, one set of clothing and next to no material possessions- there is no shortage of love.
I think I'll end on that note.
Be well,
Becky
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
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Finding Peace
Hi there. So "Malaria: The Sequel" was the alternate title of this blog entry but it wouldn't have accounted for the amoebas I also have at this time. I guess my previous blog must've had a tone in part because I wasn't feeling well. Quite disappointed that the volcano will have to wait till next year. Had a few hours of serious contemplation- considered using Karen's October 1st plane ticket to New York and catching a bus from there back to Toronto. Feeling unwell in a foreign country SUCKS!! In an effort to feel a bit better, I came to Kigali for the weekend and booked myself into a nice guest house, with hot water. I'm definitely feeling much better today and planning to head back to Gitarama in time to take the new volunteer to her first day of work Monday in Kamonyi. A second package arrived from home last week and really made my day :) Thanks Mom!
I'm guessing that most of you are back at school, getting into the swing of things.. learning names, establishing routines and going mildly crazy. I definitely am missing the classroom a bit and in particular the anticipation of the upcoming volleyball or basketball season. Because I'm in and out of schools here, it is harder to set up rapport with the kids. All things being equal though, a quick game of basketball or five minutes on the soccer pitch usually establishes a connection. I continue to be enthralled with the close bonds Rwandans seem to have with one another. Visiting the guest house where I spent my first month feels so comforting because Theo, Constantine and Emmanuel are quite friendly.
Not much more to report. I'm going to throw myself into work. The most rewarding times tend to be when I'm not sitting around thinking but am more or less engaged in my community. I hope I haven't worried anyone at home- it's never as bad as it sounds and I think is to be expected, living here. If it makes any difference.. this job fits me like no other. Walking in cold to a school of 2,000 students and 30 teachers to share/collaborate/experience each other's educational background, really connect by using my QDPA skills and cultivating enthusiasm in the school community- it's what I want to do.
For my Skype friends, I'm so sorry I missed the window of opportunity yesterday to chat with you. Will try again very soon. I can't tell you how helpful your support is- by phone, email or prayer. Thank you.
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.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Contemplation/Assessment
Hi there. This past week has been a little less than perfect. A while back, the Mayor of my district quit. Now there is a major reschuffling in the district which means the Director and Charge of Education are no longer assuming these roles. It feels a bit like the past three months of "rapport-building" has just evaporated. The new volunteer has arrived. She will join me in Kamonyi District as an Education Manager and hopefully her enthusiasm and level of productivity will breathe new life into the office environment. In the meantime, I'll focus on getting out to more schools for first-time visits and building rapport with the staff, students and Headteachers.
On Monday, I volunteered to help the new recruits a bit with their ICT (In Country Training). Little did I know this would mean taking 15 people into town to do their shopping, virtually on my own. It was kind of fun, kind of stressful and brought back memories of my first few weeks in Kigali. It's amazing to think that my house, my neighborhood, this country- feels like home to me right now. It's also daunting to wonder about if/when I might return home. How much have I changed and how will I ever adjust to living in Canada again? It certainly encourages me to make things work here. This experience is a roller-coaster; the peaks and valleys are very high and very low.
In our neighborhood, the needs continue to outweigh the resources available. It is disheartening to see people each day in difficult situations, and to be virtually unable to assist them. We tried to offer Marie (little Jean-Paul's mother) a day's work in exchange for some money to help pay her rent but she didn't show up. I would like to buy my basketball buddy Jean-Pierre some new shoes because he wore right through his plastic sandals and is walking around barefoot, however, there are some 30 children in the neighborhood and it isn't feasible to clothe them all. There's more: the men at the bus park on crutches (missing most or parts of their leg) imploring, begging, negotiating for my change... the children in torn school uniforms rifling through the garbage bin.. and always there is Fils- the neighborhood boy with the creased forehead- always so serious, concerned, not carefree like a ten-year old should be.
These are the needs I see everyday in Gitarama. It is the second largest town in all of Rwanda. I can only imagine what the needs are in more rural, impoverished areas. It makes getting to know people difficult. In a parallel universe, my friend Valens (the man in the wheelchair by the bus stop) would be the star of some paralympics basketball team. He has an incredibly well-built upper body, but only a spindly, twisted lower half. The other day Valens was talking with another young man, roughly the same age, who was born without arms. How strange to see half of a man standing beside another half of a man?! There seems to be almost no program in place to provide assistance to the handicapped here. It is hard to see. I understand why the boy at the bus stop in Rugobagoba comes running to the window each day on my ride home to show me his deformed left arm and beg for change, but I can't help but think: Why can't he be shown that there is a world of possiblity out there for him? Why must he rely on begging and therefore diminishing his self-worth day in and day out? This boy has a smile that stretches ear to ear, is probably all of 13 years old and has no idea what his "ABILITY" is because he's only been taught to value his "DISABILITY". Rumor has it that there is a Special Needs school/care centre in Kamonyi with some children with Down's Syndrome. Although I know they exist, I have yet to see a child with Down's here- they are mostly hidden away. One day I think I'll visit this centre, perhaps I can volunteer an hour or so a week there.
In a parallel universe, my tutor Deus (who has studied Albert Camus, Montaigne and other literature that I studied in 3rd year university), would be doing a masters' degree not biding his time, waiting for the two hours a week of employment he gets tutoring me. I wouldn't have strange ladies in the bank- strange, bad-breathed ladies- asking me for work. I wouldn't receive texts from people I met only once on the bus, detailing that they have a degree in computers and economics and would I find them a job please? Kate, the young lady who is writing her memoir with my help and her brother Alphonse who is teaching me to ride a moto-would be enjoying young adulthood, not caring for their younger siblings and writing stories about how their grandmother's throat was slit in 1994.
I know this blog is a little unsettling. I tend to write about the negative things when I'm feeling less positive. I have not felt 100% this week, but tomorrow we are heading up to Ruhengeri to climb Mt. Karisimbi and I hope to return from this trip feeling exhilirated. Karisimbi is Rwanda's highest volcano at an elevation of 4,500ft. It's a two day hike, complete with camping on the volcano and I'm really looking forward to it. We have two new houseguests (new VSOs) for awhile and I'm going to enjoy showing them around Gitarama and maybe feeding off of their "i've just arrived"/idealistic energies.
I should also write to you about Voisine and her gaggle of 12 year old girl-friends who want to borrow my sparkly nailpolish or about singing Ring around the Rosie with Clementina (the two year old with the crackly voice of a 90-year old chainsmoker) or about the little boy, who has cowered behind his mother instead of speak to me for the past three months, but who just last week decided that I'm now his friend and now greets me with smiles and a hug. Of course I should write to you about last week's visit to EP-Rubona where I took over the English Club for two hours. We did group work, trivia, listened to the new CD I acquired for them and did the Hokey-Pokey about half a dozen times !! I took some amazing pictures and when I have more time, I will upload them. Once again, the main theme of Rwanda is that you must take the good with the bad. Our water's been off for the past six weeks- this may be contributing to my grumpiness. However, unlike what I hear from home, the weather here is beautiful; sunny skies with a high of 28*C.
Be well friends, wish me luck with the volcano!
Becky
Monday, August 31, 2009
Tales of an African Classroom
Would you find it unusual to visit a school and find all of the teachers wearing white labcoats? Yeah, me neither. It’s par for the course here in Rwanda. I have been trying really hard to plan more school visits before the rainy season (mid-September) descends upon us and my commute becomes even more challenging. I am planning to use those rainy days to create lesson plans, make didactic materials (ie: visual aids out of rice sacks) and to possibly make a giant map of Kamonyi so that I can label the schools I’ve located to date.
The school I visited last week (with the labcoats), also had a Primary 6 class of 70 students. Yes, SEVENTY. Where in most cases, there is “double vacation” meaning students attend school either in the morning OR in the afternoon, this school has decided that more hours in the classroom means more learning. It is a lofty ambition but I wondered as I watched a lesson on Area/Perimeter, whether one teacher responsible for 70 students can actually teach effectively. I also remarked that I definitely prefer teaching the younger ones as the mustached boy in row 5 kept winking at me!
As I walked over to the second campus of this primary school, (they have two locations but are considered one school), I was greeted by about 500 primary kids. There isn’t any feeling more awkward than 1,000 eyes on you- well, except spending an hour observing a lesson on adverbs with a dozen wasps circling overhead. Yup, there are wasp nests in the rafters of this classroom. The teacher and students just disregard them and I tried to as well. It was a little harder to keep a straight face when the sounds of “clippity-clop, clippity-clop” were heard overhead as a goat had made it’s way on to the school’s tin roof.
My favorite part of that day was actually during the first 5 minutes of the Primary 4 lesson. The teacher was very progressive and had a full lesson plan prepared beginning with a warm-up song- (hey, I might not even be needed here, this is already child-centred learning, I thought to myself). He had the students sing “The animals go marching two by two, Hourrah, Hourrah”(*It is to be noted that due to the Rwandans common interchanging of the letters “L” and “R”, he was in fact singing “Houllah, Houllah”). The students had to pick a partner of the opposite gender and parade them around the room. Imagine my surprise when a four-foot nothing charming young boy, waltzed over to me and insisted that I be his partner for the Hourrah, Hourrah. I got quite the chuckle out of his bold assumption and proceeded to dance around the room quite contently. (Hey is that an adverb?)
It always amazes me, when I first visit a school and I’m on the yard with hundreds of little ones (P1-P3)-who are staring at me as if I have three heads- that one or two are courageous enough to walk up to me and shake my hand. I often wonder if this would be a good way to assess leadership ability. Why are some too afraid, too bashful, too insecure and others quite confident and self-assured? Needless to say, the three-headed red-haired mutant always smiles and says “Good morning!” which prompts about a dozen others to suddenly be struck by the boldness too. At lunch, watching the sea of children part as Emile made his way over to me on his moto with my escape vehicle was a bit of a welcome relief. This particular school is the largest one I will visit with a population of 2170 students and 38 teachers. I am heading back their tomorrow- wasps, Casanova eight year olds, labcoats and all.
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.
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