Life in Rwanda can be exhausting-travel is never as simple as point A to point B, food preparation is a process – there is no fast-food, take out, microwavable meals, or even pre-packaged food, laundry alone takes hours. People always want to know what I am doing because I am white and different, everything that is just part of a daily routine for me is fascinating to Rwandans. I am entertainment, I am reality TV for the people of Rwanda in the most basic and purest form.
Often, I am the first white person, ‘muzungu’, Rwandans are ever seeing, if not the very first, one of the first, especially in the more remote villages. Kigali is filled with abamuzungu (plural white people) but it is rare they leave the capital.
I believe it is human nature to be interested, when I see something I have never seen before I am curious, while I don’t mean to stare I am sure that I unintentionally gaze. Many volunteers have stories of children laying on the group peering under their gates for hours-only spotting the curious youth because of the whites of their eyes and their constant laughter. When I go into a classroom I will often glance out the window and see children propping each other up and peering in the window. When I go to the market and bargain for tomatoes or potatoes I turn around and have a crowd viewing me, fully encompassing and enclosing me. When I walk home a mob of people will join me, I can hear the scurrying pitter-patter of feet behind me trying to catch up. Rwandans are curious to look at my electricity meter, garbage pile, and alleyway leading to my home. Aren’t we all just as curious to know about Snooki and Jwow?
There is very little entertainment here, people don’t go to the movies and concerts, there are no shows or impromptu jam sessions in parks, something as simple as a TV in a home is almost an unheard of concept. Therefore when they see me they are fascinated. They stare and watch me. I'm sure if I were to make a video document of my life and then try and air it in America I would not get the same response, but here, my every move is acknowledged by the people of Rwanda, they are awestruck and captivated by my actions. My every moment here is an unscripted situation, usually dramatic or humorous, providing entertainment and fascination.
If everything I build here breaks, if all the lessons I teach are forgotten, at least I know that I made someone smile, I sparked someone’s curiosity, I gave them a story they will one day tell their grandchildren.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Necessity is the Mother of Invention
No one in Peace Corps reinvents the wheel, however, we do find many different uses for it. Throughout my service I can proudly say I have become extremely resourceful, thinking outside the box and using items for multiple purposes that they are not necessarily intended for.
(*Some of the ideas in this blog post are not entirely my own, but a collaboration with other volunteers and what I have observed and seen from Rwandans.)
-Need to load up your stove with petrol? Cut a water bottle in half and use the top mouth opening as a funnel
-Now you have the bottom of the water bottle- if you measure property it will function as a measuring cup, 1 cup, ½ cup, ¼ cup, and so on, based on the ridges
-You are not cooking and measuring all the time, so the bottom half can also be used as a cup for both drinking and pouring bathing water on your body
-Box wine is often present when PCV gather, it travels well and it cheap, comparatively. When you are done with the wine you can remove the bladder and blow it up to use as a pillow.
- While I don’t get to do this often because I cannot drink in my village when we get together we have opened a beer with everything but a bottle opener-lighter, leatherman, spoon, table edge, door latch…really any flat surface
-The most resourceful viewing I have seen- lighting a cigarette with a magnifying glass. Yes I saw this with my own eyes in the market! I’m sure this method can also be used to start a fire to burn trash.
-Trick for peeling a hard boiled egg, roll it on the ground so that it is broken all over, when you begin to peel the entire shell will come off, similar to when you are a kid and try to peel the Clementine all in one piece. Passion fruit, one very hard roll push in a straight line away from you and it will break down the center in half. Tree tomatoes and stringy mangoes-cut a hole in the top and suck all the juice and pulp out.
-Head carrying goes without saying. Put your luggage or market goods on your head and a baby on your back. Hands are still free.
-A piece of fabric (igitenge) works as a scarf, a head wrap, a skirt, a baby carrier, and a blanket.
-Bees wax can be melted down and made into a candle with a string as a wick.
-An oven is made from two pots, a small and a large one, one inside the other, a few rocks, a bit of sand, and two empty tomato paste cans
-Gardens can be grown in sacks when there is no land available- put rocks in the center for structure and surround them by dirt and poke holes in the sides of the sac for fruits and veggies to grow out of
-Use your waste for compost-egg shells, banana peels and some cow dung to make your garden beautiful!
-Dental floss is the solution to everything, fix it, tie it, hang it, string it.
-Mosquito nets are also princess forts that will protect you from all the critters and possible mice/rats/bats. It you live near a lake they also function as fishing net.
-Old tires function as new shoe soles
Everything in Rwanda has more than one purpose, whether it is intended or not. The problem with this- I have become somewhat of a hoarder, “NO! Don’t throw it away- ill need it for…something.” However, I am also incredibly aware of what I consume and the bi product that comes with it.
(*Some of the ideas in this blog post are not entirely my own, but a collaboration with other volunteers and what I have observed and seen from Rwandans.)
-Need to load up your stove with petrol? Cut a water bottle in half and use the top mouth opening as a funnel
-Now you have the bottom of the water bottle- if you measure property it will function as a measuring cup, 1 cup, ½ cup, ¼ cup, and so on, based on the ridges
-You are not cooking and measuring all the time, so the bottom half can also be used as a cup for both drinking and pouring bathing water on your body
-Box wine is often present when PCV gather, it travels well and it cheap, comparatively. When you are done with the wine you can remove the bladder and blow it up to use as a pillow.
- While I don’t get to do this often because I cannot drink in my village when we get together we have opened a beer with everything but a bottle opener-lighter, leatherman, spoon, table edge, door latch…really any flat surface
-The most resourceful viewing I have seen- lighting a cigarette with a magnifying glass. Yes I saw this with my own eyes in the market! I’m sure this method can also be used to start a fire to burn trash.
-Trick for peeling a hard boiled egg, roll it on the ground so that it is broken all over, when you begin to peel the entire shell will come off, similar to when you are a kid and try to peel the Clementine all in one piece. Passion fruit, one very hard roll push in a straight line away from you and it will break down the center in half. Tree tomatoes and stringy mangoes-cut a hole in the top and suck all the juice and pulp out.
-Head carrying goes without saying. Put your luggage or market goods on your head and a baby on your back. Hands are still free.
-A piece of fabric (igitenge) works as a scarf, a head wrap, a skirt, a baby carrier, and a blanket.
-Bees wax can be melted down and made into a candle with a string as a wick.
-An oven is made from two pots, a small and a large one, one inside the other, a few rocks, a bit of sand, and two empty tomato paste cans
-Gardens can be grown in sacks when there is no land available- put rocks in the center for structure and surround them by dirt and poke holes in the sides of the sac for fruits and veggies to grow out of
-Use your waste for compost-egg shells, banana peels and some cow dung to make your garden beautiful!
-Dental floss is the solution to everything, fix it, tie it, hang it, string it.
-Mosquito nets are also princess forts that will protect you from all the critters and possible mice/rats/bats. It you live near a lake they also function as fishing net.
-Old tires function as new shoe soles
Everything in Rwanda has more than one purpose, whether it is intended or not. The problem with this- I have become somewhat of a hoarder, “NO! Don’t throw it away- ill need it for…something.” However, I am also incredibly aware of what I consume and the bi product that comes with it.
Buckwhite in Africa
This is an immensely overdue blog! Upon reflection of Brian’s visit to Rwanda I have concluded that the things that have become ‘normal’ to me are not necessarily part of life in American. Sitting on a hot and uncomfortable bus for 45 minutes before it departs, being stared at intensely with gawking uncomfortable eye contact, having random strangers poke and touch you, being in a culture where there are no lines or order and public nose picking is socially acceptable, without warning or an adjustment period these realities can be very overwhelming.
After traveling for nearly 24 hours on numerous flights and adjusting to a different time schedule, most people would want to relax and slow exploration down. However, with Avery that was not an option, I had a great plan, if we did everything I wanted to during the first week and something went wrong then we would still have the second week for more activities. I had logic in my planning but I did not take into account that maybe rest for a while and a sense of bearings and comfort level before diving head first into adventures might have been appreciated. Oops. I was excited and wanted to make the most of the visit.
Brian arrives in Kigali, the capital and only airport in county. I planned to pick him up form the airport and take a private taxi to the center of town, public transport was ruled out. However, to my surprise, my counterpart and her family showed up at the airport. For weeks I politely told people form my village that they did not need to accompany me to the airport for Brian’s arrival. This was a difficult task, part of their culture is sitting and waiting for people, welcoming them when they arrive. I explained that Brian would be very tired from his travels and would want to rest. Also most people that wanted to come do not have disposable income to travel to the capital- all $4 USD- and I did not want to feel guilty that they spent on travel what should be spent on food and their families. The people understood and I explained that it is our culture to visit people once a guest is settled, when I promised we would visit no one took offense. My counterpart’s husband has a car, it was nice that they were there and were able to drive us downtown. Having my counterpart and her family there was not as awkward as I expected. We still had the Hollywood hello where I saw him from a distance and then ran towards him, in slow motion, with tears, and fell into his welcoming arms-something to that effect. If anything my counterpart added to the cinematic quality, she brought flowers.
My standards of hotels have definitely declined. St. Paul’s, where we stayed, is the equivalent of the skeeviest motel 6 in the Midwest of America. I sprung for the upgrade with a private bathroom in our room rather than communal ones. There was a trickle of warm water from a rusty showerhead that you needed to manually hold up. The Rwandafoam bed has probably been there for as long as I have been alive, concave in the center, thankfully bed bug free. Brian was a good sport, after a few quick jokes the lizard on the ceiling was named Lenny and all was well. I'm sure the nap helped things some.
We schlepped up the hills of Kigali the following morning, with the Africa sun beaming, to the bus station with Brian’s luggage, and the 11 dictionaries I requested. I put Brian in the very front of the bus to make sure he had a good view during journey. We headed off to the north where I live, I had a set schedule that I wanted to adhere to! Mulindi tea factory tour a few mountain tops over, ‘ribbon cutting’ conclusion ceremony at a school for a water project, a visit to the tailor for a traditional outfit, lunch with my host family, exploration of the market, craft time with the ladies at the co-op….I had it all planned out, every minute of it.
TIA- This is Africa- you cannot plan every detail, everything can and most likely will go wrong. I got to introduce Brian to the majority of the people I had promised and see most of the sites I wanted to. Brian’s arrival was talked about for months; everyone was anticipating his visit with enthusiasm. A white male coming to visit the female volunteer that they have taken in was a very big deal. Overall I feel everything was successful.
Sir Blian- as he was referred to, was a hit with everyone. At one ceremony he was asked to give a speech in front of 500+ children, the PTA committee, and teachers of a primary school. The students danced for him with traditional headdresses and praised him.
In addition to my site I wanted to show him some of the country. This included an 8-hour trip to Nyunguye rainforest. We stayed with my friends who live a 2-hour walk/hike into the rainforest in a miniature adorable village. The hike was a journey in itself, we walked over the fluffy pine needles that have been collecting and piling up for over 30 years and learned the migrant patters of different animals. We then had to wake well before the sun to meet the chimp tracker and find the chimps. After climbing up an almost vertical hill with our mandatory walking sticks we spotted them- we had 180-degree panoramic views of 30 chimps. Thankfully they didn’t throw poop at us either, they are known to. The adventures continued.
Through the darkness and the hustle and bustle we managed to just barley get the last bus to Byumba, where I live. We squeeze in, crammed on with women that smell like old cheese and crying babies we are ready to take off. That is until the accordion door that has been progressively getting worse over the last few months flies off the hinges. They try to fix the door, rocks and slamming it doesn’t work, another bus is eventually called. Once we board it was smooth sailing back to my concrete dwelling. After a few days and some mild adventures in Byumba we went to the beautiful Lake Kivu and enjoyed a much-deserved cold beer and relaxing evening.
Overall it was a completely successful trip. However, it gave me perspective to see someone thrown into what I had 8 months to adjust to. The ways I have modified my behavior and reactions and changed have been gradual progressions and adaptations over time.
B-Ri-Collins thank you for coming to Africa- I could not be happier that you came here and experienced this with me. I love you.
After traveling for nearly 24 hours on numerous flights and adjusting to a different time schedule, most people would want to relax and slow exploration down. However, with Avery that was not an option, I had a great plan, if we did everything I wanted to during the first week and something went wrong then we would still have the second week for more activities. I had logic in my planning but I did not take into account that maybe rest for a while and a sense of bearings and comfort level before diving head first into adventures might have been appreciated. Oops. I was excited and wanted to make the most of the visit.
Brian arrives in Kigali, the capital and only airport in county. I planned to pick him up form the airport and take a private taxi to the center of town, public transport was ruled out. However, to my surprise, my counterpart and her family showed up at the airport. For weeks I politely told people form my village that they did not need to accompany me to the airport for Brian’s arrival. This was a difficult task, part of their culture is sitting and waiting for people, welcoming them when they arrive. I explained that Brian would be very tired from his travels and would want to rest. Also most people that wanted to come do not have disposable income to travel to the capital- all $4 USD- and I did not want to feel guilty that they spent on travel what should be spent on food and their families. The people understood and I explained that it is our culture to visit people once a guest is settled, when I promised we would visit no one took offense. My counterpart’s husband has a car, it was nice that they were there and were able to drive us downtown. Having my counterpart and her family there was not as awkward as I expected. We still had the Hollywood hello where I saw him from a distance and then ran towards him, in slow motion, with tears, and fell into his welcoming arms-something to that effect. If anything my counterpart added to the cinematic quality, she brought flowers.
My standards of hotels have definitely declined. St. Paul’s, where we stayed, is the equivalent of the skeeviest motel 6 in the Midwest of America. I sprung for the upgrade with a private bathroom in our room rather than communal ones. There was a trickle of warm water from a rusty showerhead that you needed to manually hold up. The Rwandafoam bed has probably been there for as long as I have been alive, concave in the center, thankfully bed bug free. Brian was a good sport, after a few quick jokes the lizard on the ceiling was named Lenny and all was well. I'm sure the nap helped things some.
We schlepped up the hills of Kigali the following morning, with the Africa sun beaming, to the bus station with Brian’s luggage, and the 11 dictionaries I requested. I put Brian in the very front of the bus to make sure he had a good view during journey. We headed off to the north where I live, I had a set schedule that I wanted to adhere to! Mulindi tea factory tour a few mountain tops over, ‘ribbon cutting’ conclusion ceremony at a school for a water project, a visit to the tailor for a traditional outfit, lunch with my host family, exploration of the market, craft time with the ladies at the co-op….I had it all planned out, every minute of it.
TIA- This is Africa- you cannot plan every detail, everything can and most likely will go wrong. I got to introduce Brian to the majority of the people I had promised and see most of the sites I wanted to. Brian’s arrival was talked about for months; everyone was anticipating his visit with enthusiasm. A white male coming to visit the female volunteer that they have taken in was a very big deal. Overall I feel everything was successful.
Sir Blian- as he was referred to, was a hit with everyone. At one ceremony he was asked to give a speech in front of 500+ children, the PTA committee, and teachers of a primary school. The students danced for him with traditional headdresses and praised him.
In addition to my site I wanted to show him some of the country. This included an 8-hour trip to Nyunguye rainforest. We stayed with my friends who live a 2-hour walk/hike into the rainforest in a miniature adorable village. The hike was a journey in itself, we walked over the fluffy pine needles that have been collecting and piling up for over 30 years and learned the migrant patters of different animals. We then had to wake well before the sun to meet the chimp tracker and find the chimps. After climbing up an almost vertical hill with our mandatory walking sticks we spotted them- we had 180-degree panoramic views of 30 chimps. Thankfully they didn’t throw poop at us either, they are known to. The adventures continued.
Through the darkness and the hustle and bustle we managed to just barley get the last bus to Byumba, where I live. We squeeze in, crammed on with women that smell like old cheese and crying babies we are ready to take off. That is until the accordion door that has been progressively getting worse over the last few months flies off the hinges. They try to fix the door, rocks and slamming it doesn’t work, another bus is eventually called. Once we board it was smooth sailing back to my concrete dwelling. After a few days and some mild adventures in Byumba we went to the beautiful Lake Kivu and enjoyed a much-deserved cold beer and relaxing evening.
Overall it was a completely successful trip. However, it gave me perspective to see someone thrown into what I had 8 months to adjust to. The ways I have modified my behavior and reactions and changed have been gradual progressions and adaptations over time.
B-Ri-Collins thank you for coming to Africa- I could not be happier that you came here and experienced this with me. I love you.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Hey you, baboon, get back here with my backpack!
I have recently noticed the great disparity between rules in America and rules in Rwanda. In Rwanda there are a plethora of rules for what you cannot do in public, there is no eating in public, no crying in public, you cannot show your knees, you should not have your toe nails painted a bring color, you don’t want to whistle if you are a female, the list continues. However, on a recent camping trip I noticed there were no rules, in American you must sign your life away, promise not to sue, keep the fire contained, and whisper after 10pm.
After spending Christmas at my sight I thought it would be nice to join my friends and treat myself to a 2-night 3-day safari in Akagera Park. I traveled the country with almost everything I own in my outlandishly large backpack and made it to the destination. We arrived at the park, paid the entrance and camp fee, and were then promptly dropped at what mildly appeared to be a campsite. The car left and we stood there, in awe, no idea what to do, where it is approved to sleep, where it is approved to build a fire, what firewood we can use, and lastly, we were in a wild park, how were we supposed to keep the hyenas away? I saw The Lion King- I’m dinner for Mufassas’ posy!
With no guidance or instruction we set up camp. When a ranger finally came he was shocked that we were asking such outlandish questions. To him it was all common sense, if the buffalo come then clap as loud as you can to frighten them and they will leave. We were told to light a fire at dusk to scare away the animals and that the smell of the embers would keep them away through the night. While this was comforting we still did not get a full night sleep.
3 am-drip, drop, drip, drop….I heard the rain, I slightly felt it coming into my tent. 3:30 am- toss, turn, toss, turn, the rain came down harder, a small puddle was forming. 4am-downpour-the Dora The Explorer comparable tents weren’t holding up to well. We decided to make a run for it, shelter, the bats dwelling, they didn’t seem to mind us too much. Eventually the rain stopped, the skies cleared, and once again with no direction we went on an adventure.
Before leaving for our hike we noticed we had a visitor. Mr. Baboon! He was a cute handsome young fellow looking for a five-finger discount. We had been warned that the baboons would steal any and everything. We watched him invade our campsite from afar, and by afar, I mean about 5 feet away. He peered in our tents, picked up a thermos, gave it a good shake. He was only curious, and fearless. After about 10 minutes or so he was bored, were Peace Corps volunteers, we really don’t have anything that great.
We continued to go on a glorious walk for a few hours. We spotted all sorts of creatures I have only seen at the zoo, never in their natural habitat-zebras, impalas, monkeys, buffalo, warthogs- we saw a watering hole, and dung beetles rolling dung!
That evening there was a group that went on a night game drive- when they returned, just as we were about to go to bed, they told us they not only saw packs and packs of hyenas, there was a leopard only 100 yards away from the camp. Thankfully it didn’t eat any of us! We went in with 6 and came out with 6.
The next morning our car showed up to take us on a proper tour, it was an actual safari car, we got to sit on the roof and see even more animals!! All sorts of birds, some I even found beautiful, and giraffes, they were HUGE!! Fun fact- they do not have vocal cords, they communicate through sneezing!
In the afternoon we went on a boat tour where we saw an elephant near the far end of the lake bordering Tanzania, the elephant was swimming, taking a bath, it appeared he was cooling off with the mud. We sat and talked to him, yes the elephant, for quite some time because our guide spotted poachers and had to alert the park rangers to come. It was a very surreal experience. Our guide was a professional poacher spotter for 8 years before he came to work in the park. He told us a story of a time he needed to go undercover and pretend to want to purchase a baby gorilla.
We were then given freshly grilled tilapia that was just caught from the lake. After we devoured the fish, sucking every last bone dry, we continued on the land tour where we saw the former kings house and the hut he used to cast spells from.
I guess using my head and common sense worked out for me this time around, 2 nights and 3 days cohabitating with wild animals and really no rules and I survived! I even have some photos to share the experience.
After spending Christmas at my sight I thought it would be nice to join my friends and treat myself to a 2-night 3-day safari in Akagera Park. I traveled the country with almost everything I own in my outlandishly large backpack and made it to the destination. We arrived at the park, paid the entrance and camp fee, and were then promptly dropped at what mildly appeared to be a campsite. The car left and we stood there, in awe, no idea what to do, where it is approved to sleep, where it is approved to build a fire, what firewood we can use, and lastly, we were in a wild park, how were we supposed to keep the hyenas away? I saw The Lion King- I’m dinner for Mufassas’ posy!
With no guidance or instruction we set up camp. When a ranger finally came he was shocked that we were asking such outlandish questions. To him it was all common sense, if the buffalo come then clap as loud as you can to frighten them and they will leave. We were told to light a fire at dusk to scare away the animals and that the smell of the embers would keep them away through the night. While this was comforting we still did not get a full night sleep.
3 am-drip, drop, drip, drop….I heard the rain, I slightly felt it coming into my tent. 3:30 am- toss, turn, toss, turn, the rain came down harder, a small puddle was forming. 4am-downpour-the Dora The Explorer comparable tents weren’t holding up to well. We decided to make a run for it, shelter, the bats dwelling, they didn’t seem to mind us too much. Eventually the rain stopped, the skies cleared, and once again with no direction we went on an adventure.
Before leaving for our hike we noticed we had a visitor. Mr. Baboon! He was a cute handsome young fellow looking for a five-finger discount. We had been warned that the baboons would steal any and everything. We watched him invade our campsite from afar, and by afar, I mean about 5 feet away. He peered in our tents, picked up a thermos, gave it a good shake. He was only curious, and fearless. After about 10 minutes or so he was bored, were Peace Corps volunteers, we really don’t have anything that great.
We continued to go on a glorious walk for a few hours. We spotted all sorts of creatures I have only seen at the zoo, never in their natural habitat-zebras, impalas, monkeys, buffalo, warthogs- we saw a watering hole, and dung beetles rolling dung!
That evening there was a group that went on a night game drive- when they returned, just as we were about to go to bed, they told us they not only saw packs and packs of hyenas, there was a leopard only 100 yards away from the camp. Thankfully it didn’t eat any of us! We went in with 6 and came out with 6.
The next morning our car showed up to take us on a proper tour, it was an actual safari car, we got to sit on the roof and see even more animals!! All sorts of birds, some I even found beautiful, and giraffes, they were HUGE!! Fun fact- they do not have vocal cords, they communicate through sneezing!
In the afternoon we went on a boat tour where we saw an elephant near the far end of the lake bordering Tanzania, the elephant was swimming, taking a bath, it appeared he was cooling off with the mud. We sat and talked to him, yes the elephant, for quite some time because our guide spotted poachers and had to alert the park rangers to come. It was a very surreal experience. Our guide was a professional poacher spotter for 8 years before he came to work in the park. He told us a story of a time he needed to go undercover and pretend to want to purchase a baby gorilla.
We were then given freshly grilled tilapia that was just caught from the lake. After we devoured the fish, sucking every last bone dry, we continued on the land tour where we saw the former kings house and the hut he used to cast spells from.
I guess using my head and common sense worked out for me this time around, 2 nights and 3 days cohabitating with wild animals and really no rules and I survived! I even have some photos to share the experience.
Give me a C. Give me an A. Give me a M. Give me a P. What does that spell? CAMP!!!!!!
Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) is a camp that Peace Corps Volunteers run all over the world, it is organized and funded by Peace Corps Volunteers, it is aimed to be an empowerment camp for female youth in developing countries around the world. After much success at the initial camp GLOW in Rwanda last year it was deemed that it is not only necessary to teach girls, boys must be taught and given the opportunity as well.
The applicants for GLOW and the boys camp BE (Boys Excelling) were chosen through a countrywide essay contest initiated by Peace Corps Volunteers. I went to the secondary school in my area and presented the headmaster with information about the camp. I then invited boys and girls who wanted to participate the chance to submit an essay- they were asked what they can contribute to the camp and why they should be chosen. From all the applicants throughout the country we could only invite 100 girls and 75 boys.
After the essays were read by camp GLOW and BE administration I was informed that 3 of my girls and 2 of my boys essays were chosen, I then had a meeting with the students selected and told them all the details.
We took many of the concepts we remembered from summer camp in American and combined them with the lessons that we needed to teach throughout the week. We performed icebreakers and name games- we made the environment as comfortable as possible upon campers arrival. We tried to make the learning fun with activities and games that related to the sessions- all about HIV, STDs, transmission, prevention, and awareness. We talked about goal setting, assertive behavior, and career information with a fair and mock interviews and a resume writing session. I have noticed that this is a culture where the youth are not supposed to be having pre marital sex because it is so religious but they are and they are not aware of how to protect themselves-condom demonstrations and the information we relayed can help eradicate risky behavior. We had a chance to present learning as something fun- incorporating games and activities into lessons about HIV and AIDS. What I have observed is that students are often taught at in Rwanda, they are not engaged in the lessons and therefore do not absorb the information.
At camp BE we had arts and crafts or sports activities organized in the afternoon. We did paper mache and made bees wax candles, we taught dodge ball, one afternoon we had a field day with tug of war and water balloon tossing. In the evening camp activities alternated from a talent show, to a dance, to a bonfire where individuals were given the opportunity to submit anonymous questions about sex.
Throughout the week of camp BE I saw a profound change in all the campers but specifically in the 7 boys that were in my class, we formed a strong and trustworthy bond throughout the week. Their entire attitude changed, their demeanor, their knowledge, and not to mention their English. Some of the campers told me that camp was their Christmas, they were so thankful for all aspects, meeting new people, gaining more knowledge, and being able to eat three meals a day. The boys that attended this camp will forever be changed and affected in a positive way. It is now up to each camper to share what they have learned with their village and pass along their newly acquired knowledge.
The applicants for GLOW and the boys camp BE (Boys Excelling) were chosen through a countrywide essay contest initiated by Peace Corps Volunteers. I went to the secondary school in my area and presented the headmaster with information about the camp. I then invited boys and girls who wanted to participate the chance to submit an essay- they were asked what they can contribute to the camp and why they should be chosen. From all the applicants throughout the country we could only invite 100 girls and 75 boys.
After the essays were read by camp GLOW and BE administration I was informed that 3 of my girls and 2 of my boys essays were chosen, I then had a meeting with the students selected and told them all the details.
We took many of the concepts we remembered from summer camp in American and combined them with the lessons that we needed to teach throughout the week. We performed icebreakers and name games- we made the environment as comfortable as possible upon campers arrival. We tried to make the learning fun with activities and games that related to the sessions- all about HIV, STDs, transmission, prevention, and awareness. We talked about goal setting, assertive behavior, and career information with a fair and mock interviews and a resume writing session. I have noticed that this is a culture where the youth are not supposed to be having pre marital sex because it is so religious but they are and they are not aware of how to protect themselves-condom demonstrations and the information we relayed can help eradicate risky behavior. We had a chance to present learning as something fun- incorporating games and activities into lessons about HIV and AIDS. What I have observed is that students are often taught at in Rwanda, they are not engaged in the lessons and therefore do not absorb the information.
At camp BE we had arts and crafts or sports activities organized in the afternoon. We did paper mache and made bees wax candles, we taught dodge ball, one afternoon we had a field day with tug of war and water balloon tossing. In the evening camp activities alternated from a talent show, to a dance, to a bonfire where individuals were given the opportunity to submit anonymous questions about sex.
Throughout the week of camp BE I saw a profound change in all the campers but specifically in the 7 boys that were in my class, we formed a strong and trustworthy bond throughout the week. Their entire attitude changed, their demeanor, their knowledge, and not to mention their English. Some of the campers told me that camp was their Christmas, they were so thankful for all aspects, meeting new people, gaining more knowledge, and being able to eat three meals a day. The boys that attended this camp will forever be changed and affected in a positive way. It is now up to each camper to share what they have learned with their village and pass along their newly acquired knowledge.
Give me a C. Give me an A. Give me a M. Give me a P. What does that spell? CAMP!!!!!!
Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) is a camp that Peace Corps Volunteers run all over the world, it is organized and funded by Peace Corps Volunteers, it is aimed to be an empowerment camp for female youth in developing countries around the world. After much success at the initial camp GLOW in Rwanda last year it was deemed that it is not only necessary to teach girls, boys must be taught and given the opportunity as well.
The applicants for GLOW and the boys camp BE (Boys Excelling) were chosen through a countrywide essay contest initiated by Peace Corps Volunteers. I went to the secondary school in my area and presented the headmaster with information about the camp. I then invited boys and girls who wanted to participate the chance to submit an essay- they were asked what they can contribute to the camp and why they should be chosen. From all the applicants throughout the country we could only invite 100 girls and 75 boys.
After the essays we read by camp GLOW and BE administration I was informed that 3 of my girls and 2 of my boys essays were chosen, I then had a meeting with the students selected and told them all the details.
We took many of the concepts we remembered from summer camp in American and combined them with the lessons that we needed to teach throughout the week. We performed icebreakers and name games- we made the environment as comfortable as possible upon campers arrival. We tried to make the learning fun with activities and games that related to the sessions- all about HIV, STDs, transmission, prevention, and awareness. We talked about goal setting, assertive behavior, and career information with a fair and mock interviews and a resume writing session. I have noticed that this is a culture where the youth are not supposed to be having pre marital sex because it is so religious but they are and they are not aware of how to protect themselves-condom demonstrations and the information we relayed can help eradicate risky behavior. We had a chance to present learning as something fun- incorporating games and activities into lessons about HIV and AIDS. What I have observed is that students are often taught at in Rwanda, they are not engaged in the lessons and therefore do not absorb the information.
At camp BE we had arts and crafts or sports activities organized in the afternoon. We did paper mache and made bees wax candles, we taught dodge ball, one afternoon we had a field day with tug of war and water balloon tossing. In the evening camp activities alternated from a talent show, to a dance, to a bonfire where individuals were given the opportunity to submit anonymous questions about sex.
Throughout the week of camp BE I saw a profound change in all the campers but specifically in the 7 boys that were in my class, we formed a strong and trustworthy bond throughout the week. Their entire attitude changed, their demeanor, their knowledge, and not to mention their English. Some of the campers told me that camp was their Christmas, they were so thankful for all aspects, meeting new people, gaining more knowledge, and being able to eat three meals a day. The boys that attended this camp will forever be changed and affected in a positive way. It is now up to each camper to share what they have learned with their village and pass along their newly acquired knowledge.
The applicants for GLOW and the boys camp BE (Boys Excelling) were chosen through a countrywide essay contest initiated by Peace Corps Volunteers. I went to the secondary school in my area and presented the headmaster with information about the camp. I then invited boys and girls who wanted to participate the chance to submit an essay- they were asked what they can contribute to the camp and why they should be chosen. From all the applicants throughout the country we could only invite 100 girls and 75 boys.
After the essays we read by camp GLOW and BE administration I was informed that 3 of my girls and 2 of my boys essays were chosen, I then had a meeting with the students selected and told them all the details.
We took many of the concepts we remembered from summer camp in American and combined them with the lessons that we needed to teach throughout the week. We performed icebreakers and name games- we made the environment as comfortable as possible upon campers arrival. We tried to make the learning fun with activities and games that related to the sessions- all about HIV, STDs, transmission, prevention, and awareness. We talked about goal setting, assertive behavior, and career information with a fair and mock interviews and a resume writing session. I have noticed that this is a culture where the youth are not supposed to be having pre marital sex because it is so religious but they are and they are not aware of how to protect themselves-condom demonstrations and the information we relayed can help eradicate risky behavior. We had a chance to present learning as something fun- incorporating games and activities into lessons about HIV and AIDS. What I have observed is that students are often taught at in Rwanda, they are not engaged in the lessons and therefore do not absorb the information.
At camp BE we had arts and crafts or sports activities organized in the afternoon. We did paper mache and made bees wax candles, we taught dodge ball, one afternoon we had a field day with tug of war and water balloon tossing. In the evening camp activities alternated from a talent show, to a dance, to a bonfire where individuals were given the opportunity to submit anonymous questions about sex.
Throughout the week of camp BE I saw a profound change in all the campers but specifically in the 7 boys that were in my class, we formed a strong and trustworthy bond throughout the week. Their entire attitude changed, their demeanor, their knowledge, and not to mention their English. Some of the campers told me that camp was their Christmas, they were so thankful for all aspects, meeting new people, gaining more knowledge, and being able to eat three meals a day. The boys that attended this camp will forever be changed and affected in a positive way. It is now up to each camper to share what they have learned with their village and pass along their newly acquired knowledge.
Keza, Keza, Keza
Avery, my birth name, was dropped a long time ago. I accepted that it gets lost in translation with the language barrier. L’s and R’s are reversed here, at best I get Everly. When I received my Rwandan name, Keza, I went with it, and it works great.
I live in a decent sized area, I have a market that is open 7 days a week, although Wednesday and Saturday are ‘market days’ when it is the busiest, full of vendors, veggies, and clothing. There are numerous boutiques in town and always someone in the street.
While there are some days when I think that I am invisible behind my sunglasses, deliberately hiding behind them, it is a great feeling to know that I am not invisible at all and to be known in my community. I walk down the street and people scream out to greet me. They know my name and call me by it, they treat me like I belong here and have always been here. Some people still blatantly stare at me, touch me because they want to know what my skin feels like, and pull on my hair every once and a while to see what happens. However, there is comfort in people saying hello to me by name, asking me where I have been if they have not seen me in a few days.
Yesterday my host mother called me and asked me to come over. I assumed she needed something, although I did not know what she could possible want. Upon my arrival next door I asked her if everything was all right. So told me everything was fine, she just wanted to greet me, she missed me and wanted to say hello. The children woke up from their nap and we played, we sang and was counted to 100. It is nice to feel there is a general acceptance and understanding that I live here, that I am a neighbor, a community member, a friend, and a family member.
I live in a decent sized area, I have a market that is open 7 days a week, although Wednesday and Saturday are ‘market days’ when it is the busiest, full of vendors, veggies, and clothing. There are numerous boutiques in town and always someone in the street.
While there are some days when I think that I am invisible behind my sunglasses, deliberately hiding behind them, it is a great feeling to know that I am not invisible at all and to be known in my community. I walk down the street and people scream out to greet me. They know my name and call me by it, they treat me like I belong here and have always been here. Some people still blatantly stare at me, touch me because they want to know what my skin feels like, and pull on my hair every once and a while to see what happens. However, there is comfort in people saying hello to me by name, asking me where I have been if they have not seen me in a few days.
Yesterday my host mother called me and asked me to come over. I assumed she needed something, although I did not know what she could possible want. Upon my arrival next door I asked her if everything was all right. So told me everything was fine, she just wanted to greet me, she missed me and wanted to say hello. The children woke up from their nap and we played, we sang and was counted to 100. It is nice to feel there is a general acceptance and understanding that I live here, that I am a neighbor, a community member, a friend, and a family member.
Acclimatize
It was amazing to me to realize how quickly I am able to adapt to a new situation, going from having no choices when it comes to buying a product to a supermarket where there are 100 different kinds of beverages. In reality it only takes a moment to adapt to the new situation.
When traveling in South Africa I was given many options- stores, retail of all kinds, restaurants, choices I never have to make in Rwanda because they don’t exist. I adapt to Rwanda by living in plainly, modestly, and simply, showering from a bucket, and going to the bathroom in a latrine. My furniture is minimal, I sit on the floor and cook over one burner, also on the floor. After 24 hours in the developed world I was acclimated again. And the same when returning to the bush- accepting it for what it is and remembering it is my life.
Does this mean I am too accommodating? I adjust too easily? I don’t care or have an opinion? Or does this mean I am flexible and show pliability in situations?
I often thought that I would have trouble readjusting to corporate America. However, after my last excursion I realize that it is not the malls and the supermarkets that I once feared reentering that will be difficult. It will be dealing with the people, listening to complaints that are so minuscule and make no difference in the long run. To hear someone whine that they cannot get an appointment at the nail salon is something I am not going to have sympathy for.
While I have an awakened state of tolerance since moving and my patience has increased 10 fold, I feel I will have a problem adjusting to the people back in America. The differences in life goals are vast, and the idea of a happy life is entirely different when comparing Rwanda to America. Then again- I don’t actually know how I will reacclimatize, maybe ill complain when I want a hair appointment and can’t get one. Only time will tell. I hope to think that the lessons I have learned here will stay with me forever. I hope that I will continue to appreciate the luxuries that are accessible in the developed world and persist to cultivate relationships and spend time with people, remembering the art of sitting.
When traveling in South Africa I was given many options- stores, retail of all kinds, restaurants, choices I never have to make in Rwanda because they don’t exist. I adapt to Rwanda by living in plainly, modestly, and simply, showering from a bucket, and going to the bathroom in a latrine. My furniture is minimal, I sit on the floor and cook over one burner, also on the floor. After 24 hours in the developed world I was acclimated again. And the same when returning to the bush- accepting it for what it is and remembering it is my life.
Does this mean I am too accommodating? I adjust too easily? I don’t care or have an opinion? Or does this mean I am flexible and show pliability in situations?
I often thought that I would have trouble readjusting to corporate America. However, after my last excursion I realize that it is not the malls and the supermarkets that I once feared reentering that will be difficult. It will be dealing with the people, listening to complaints that are so minuscule and make no difference in the long run. To hear someone whine that they cannot get an appointment at the nail salon is something I am not going to have sympathy for.
While I have an awakened state of tolerance since moving and my patience has increased 10 fold, I feel I will have a problem adjusting to the people back in America. The differences in life goals are vast, and the idea of a happy life is entirely different when comparing Rwanda to America. Then again- I don’t actually know how I will reacclimatize, maybe ill complain when I want a hair appointment and can’t get one. Only time will tell. I hope to think that the lessons I have learned here will stay with me forever. I hope that I will continue to appreciate the luxuries that are accessible in the developed world and persist to cultivate relationships and spend time with people, remembering the art of sitting.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Ear Cheese and Exploding Fallopian Tubes!
Sounds fun doesn’t it!?! Well it was! Getting a mock root canal without Novocain-lets start this adventure form the beginning.
Previously I would have said thank you mom and dad for the cavity prone teeth! It turns out that I don’t actually have cavity prone teeth- the American health care/dental industry has been making money off of me for years. Rather than giving me a night guard to prevent me from grinding my teeth, dentists have let me grind away to the point where I create shallow cavities and then they profit a financial gain when I come in for assistance.
About 3 months ago my teeth started to hurt, I went to the dentist here in Rwanda, a nice woman from the Philippines, professional and licensed. She informed me I had four cavities, two on the right side and two on the left, this was not surprise to me. Following the first visit I went back where the first two cavities on my right side were filled. Everything went impeccably. I left on cloud 9, a painless visit to the dentist. As I was sitting waiting for the bus (read previous blog to learn more about transport), and the tremendous amount of Novocain injected into me began to wear off, I started to feel the excruciating and agonizing pain, an unbearable feeling. However, Brian was coming in 48 hours, the last thing I wanted to do was deal with dental issue while he was in Rwanda.
Following Brains departure I returned back to the dentist to get the other cavities filled and put in a complaint about the piercing pain I have been in. She proceeds to tell me that it is no problem, she can fix me, she just needs to do the work without Novocain so she call tell where I am in the most pain. The drills begin and I lay still while the hygienist holds my hands as the tears roll down my face, the dentist goes further and further into my tooth, touching the nerve and determining where I am in the most pain. Assertive behavior clicked in at this point, I promptly asked her to call my Peace Corps doctor and confirm this procedure before she continued any further. After a phone call with the irate Peace Corps doctor work stopped instantly, a car picked me up immediately, and my records were sent to Washington DC. Before I knew it I was on a plane to South Africa, a mini American with state of the art equipment.
It was in Pretoria, one of the capitals of South Africa, where I was staying that I met a cast of characters, volunteers from all over Africa-Kenya, Cameroon, Zambia, Madagascar, Malawi, Ghana, even some from the developing parts of South Africa. All were all ‘med evaced’ for a variety of issues, an appendix removal, a fallopian tube that had exploded, ACL surgery, holes in ear drums resulting in revolting stories of ‘ear cheese’, mystery kidney issues, the list continues. We all had different stories to tell, anecdotes of our injury, legends from the country we are serving in, and narratives of our service and our experience. The cornucopia of volunteers was what made it such an amazing experience.
South Africa was just like America- on security steroids. All homes had electric fences, except for the guesthouse we were put up in, which was fortunate for us the night we were locked out and had to hop the gate and knock on windows to be let back in. I spent the majority of my time in malls, eating, and drinking.
After attempting to save my nerves and only hollow out my teeth and fill them with dentist ‘goo’ it was deemed too much damage was done. The dentist in Rwanda had hit my nerves when she was filling my cavities, thus I needed root canals and crowns, or were they caps, this is why I am not in the medical profession.
Overall I deem the entire trip a success. I met great people and ate amazing food, sushi twice, although they were always out of tuna, forcing me the settle on salmon. Although it was wonderful, after a week I was ready to get back to the bush and live my village life. I came to the realization and conclusion that if I wanted to be in American I would be in actual America- right now I am just a simple girl living in Rwanda…
Previously I would have said thank you mom and dad for the cavity prone teeth! It turns out that I don’t actually have cavity prone teeth- the American health care/dental industry has been making money off of me for years. Rather than giving me a night guard to prevent me from grinding my teeth, dentists have let me grind away to the point where I create shallow cavities and then they profit a financial gain when I come in for assistance.
About 3 months ago my teeth started to hurt, I went to the dentist here in Rwanda, a nice woman from the Philippines, professional and licensed. She informed me I had four cavities, two on the right side and two on the left, this was not surprise to me. Following the first visit I went back where the first two cavities on my right side were filled. Everything went impeccably. I left on cloud 9, a painless visit to the dentist. As I was sitting waiting for the bus (read previous blog to learn more about transport), and the tremendous amount of Novocain injected into me began to wear off, I started to feel the excruciating and agonizing pain, an unbearable feeling. However, Brian was coming in 48 hours, the last thing I wanted to do was deal with dental issue while he was in Rwanda.
Following Brains departure I returned back to the dentist to get the other cavities filled and put in a complaint about the piercing pain I have been in. She proceeds to tell me that it is no problem, she can fix me, she just needs to do the work without Novocain so she call tell where I am in the most pain. The drills begin and I lay still while the hygienist holds my hands as the tears roll down my face, the dentist goes further and further into my tooth, touching the nerve and determining where I am in the most pain. Assertive behavior clicked in at this point, I promptly asked her to call my Peace Corps doctor and confirm this procedure before she continued any further. After a phone call with the irate Peace Corps doctor work stopped instantly, a car picked me up immediately, and my records were sent to Washington DC. Before I knew it I was on a plane to South Africa, a mini American with state of the art equipment.
It was in Pretoria, one of the capitals of South Africa, where I was staying that I met a cast of characters, volunteers from all over Africa-Kenya, Cameroon, Zambia, Madagascar, Malawi, Ghana, even some from the developing parts of South Africa. All were all ‘med evaced’ for a variety of issues, an appendix removal, a fallopian tube that had exploded, ACL surgery, holes in ear drums resulting in revolting stories of ‘ear cheese’, mystery kidney issues, the list continues. We all had different stories to tell, anecdotes of our injury, legends from the country we are serving in, and narratives of our service and our experience. The cornucopia of volunteers was what made it such an amazing experience.
South Africa was just like America- on security steroids. All homes had electric fences, except for the guesthouse we were put up in, which was fortunate for us the night we were locked out and had to hop the gate and knock on windows to be let back in. I spent the majority of my time in malls, eating, and drinking.
After attempting to save my nerves and only hollow out my teeth and fill them with dentist ‘goo’ it was deemed too much damage was done. The dentist in Rwanda had hit my nerves when she was filling my cavities, thus I needed root canals and crowns, or were they caps, this is why I am not in the medical profession.
Overall I deem the entire trip a success. I met great people and ate amazing food, sushi twice, although they were always out of tuna, forcing me the settle on salmon. Although it was wonderful, after a week I was ready to get back to the bush and live my village life. I came to the realization and conclusion that if I wanted to be in American I would be in actual America- right now I am just a simple girl living in Rwanda…
Planes, Trains, and Automobiles
Fortunately the buses in Rwanda are very reliable, yes they will change a flat tire while the bus is full, but they leave on time and they rarely break down. They are the main source of transportation for the population. Mottos (small motorcycles) are available in areas where a bus cannot drive because the roads are not constructed, however they are expensive compared to walking, which is free. I would say the majority of the population takes public buses on a very regular basis. Because of the wide use and accessibility of the public transport system and I am both shocked and stunned that people have trouble entering and exiting, something I consider a very simple task.
There are three types of buses, large government buses, pepto mint green and about twice as high and wide as a yellow school bus, the moderate size bus where everyone gets a single seat, and the muttatus, or the smush buses where you have to cram in. The later two are both the same lay out. There are seats that are stationary and then there are ‘jump seats’ they fold up so that an isle is created and then when they are down you sit in them. Therefore if the jump seat is down no one can pass, you are blocking the isle.
I am always taken aback that people do no realize this!! Everyday, every time, if someone needs to pass you must stand up. People continuously sit in the first jump seat, blocking the entire back of the bus so that no one can pass and then they do not move or even attempt to get out of the seat. People will make a conscious effort to climb over other people, stepping on others, rather than simply standing up and filing in the bus in an orderly manner.
There are often times when there are open seats before the bus fills up, on smaller buses you do not leave until they are full. Getting there early you can get a window seat, but you never know how many minutes or hours until everyone gets on. There have been numerous occasions where rather than take a seat that is open, someone will come and sit directly on your lap. This is common when the bus is full because there is a lack of seats, but most definitely not necessary until the bus is full!! The muttatu buses, small crammed ones, sit 18, not comfortable, but are designed to fit 18, they are similar to the hippie VW wagons, often there are 20+ people, people sitting on laps, this is not including the children, The children I do not mind, they do not cry for long, sometimes they pee on you, that I can handle, people staring at me, drunk men in my personal space, all no problem, my breaking point, the throwing up. The roads are not bad in Rwanda. There are some treacherous ones, some windy ones, some that make me a little nauseous, however, the people here are always throwing up on public transportation. I'm going to knock on wood as I type this and say I have no been thrown up on yet, I would like to keep it this way!
There are three types of buses, large government buses, pepto mint green and about twice as high and wide as a yellow school bus, the moderate size bus where everyone gets a single seat, and the muttatus, or the smush buses where you have to cram in. The later two are both the same lay out. There are seats that are stationary and then there are ‘jump seats’ they fold up so that an isle is created and then when they are down you sit in them. Therefore if the jump seat is down no one can pass, you are blocking the isle.
I am always taken aback that people do no realize this!! Everyday, every time, if someone needs to pass you must stand up. People continuously sit in the first jump seat, blocking the entire back of the bus so that no one can pass and then they do not move or even attempt to get out of the seat. People will make a conscious effort to climb over other people, stepping on others, rather than simply standing up and filing in the bus in an orderly manner.
There are often times when there are open seats before the bus fills up, on smaller buses you do not leave until they are full. Getting there early you can get a window seat, but you never know how many minutes or hours until everyone gets on. There have been numerous occasions where rather than take a seat that is open, someone will come and sit directly on your lap. This is common when the bus is full because there is a lack of seats, but most definitely not necessary until the bus is full!! The muttatu buses, small crammed ones, sit 18, not comfortable, but are designed to fit 18, they are similar to the hippie VW wagons, often there are 20+ people, people sitting on laps, this is not including the children, The children I do not mind, they do not cry for long, sometimes they pee on you, that I can handle, people staring at me, drunk men in my personal space, all no problem, my breaking point, the throwing up. The roads are not bad in Rwanda. There are some treacherous ones, some windy ones, some that make me a little nauseous, however, the people here are always throwing up on public transportation. I'm going to knock on wood as I type this and say I have no been thrown up on yet, I would like to keep it this way!
1, 2, 3, BUNGEEEEEE!!!!!!
The alarm started going off at 4:15 am- normally I would not be a happy camper, waking up before the chickens, cows, farmers, and the sun, however, we were going to UGANDA! My first time leaving Rwanda, departing to the neighboring country for a much-deserved vacation.
Myself, along with 3 friends were off, we boarded the bus that was to take us to Kampala. We arrived midday the next day. Overwhelmed by the street food, the crowds, and the filth, I quickly had something to compare Rwanda to. The vacation starts off with us lost in a chaotic taxi park, no idea where to go, no Ugandan shillings, and Rwandan francs are a completely foreign currency. “#$@(*#&$” I hear behind me as a friend trips and lands in a ditch where she twister her ankle. Quickly we remember we are Peace Corps Volunteers and get our game faces. We exchange money, find where we are going, get to the backpackers hostel we are staying, and wrap the twisted ankle. From that point it was smooth sailing. In typical fashion after some cold beers and a good meal we were ready to go.
We woke up early the next day eager to find East Africa’s ONLY SKATE PARK!! After wandering through a village and buying some Jack Fruit on the side of the road, which tasted like rubbery dry bananas, we found the park. One-drop ramp and no skaters, we were a bit unimpressed and disappointed, but then remembered we were in Uganda, in a small village and were ecstatic with the fact it even existed. We then went into town were we walked around, went to an art market, unsuccessfully attempted to eat traditional Ugandan food, and noticed the giant 8-plus foot wing span storks that live in all the trees above. We ended the day at a great rooftop bar overlooking the taxi park eating egg logs- hard-boiled eggs encompassed in deep friend balls of mashed potatoes. DELICIOUS!
The next morning we woke up ready to bungee jump! We made sure to recognize the time difference, had breakfast, a tuna melt- not exactly a traditional breakfast at 7 am, said goodbye to the monkeys wandering the grounds, and took off in shuttle. When we arrived in Jinja 2 hours later we found out we weren’t going to go bungee jumping until the following day. However, rafting was amazing!!! We took class 5 rapids down the Nile and hit a 15+ foot waterfall drop. At one point I seriously though was going to lose a finger, I should have taken them seriously when the said remove all jewelry.
After a full and exhausting day of rafting we transitioned into the night where we took upside-down shots from a kayak on the ceiling of the bar. We met a group a travelers from all over the world on a 15 weeks bus trek across Africa, a cast of interesting characters. We even convinced a staff member to drink a cup of bugs.
After a Rolex (traditional Ugandan street food), some water, and Advil I was read to go bungee jumping. I went fist. Surprisingly I felt a little bit of fear, an emotion I am not normally accustomed to. It was a very different experience than skydiving. They tied my ankles together, assured me I would live, and then I was on my own. I hopped to the ledge and then 1, 2, 3, bungee, I projected myself off, head first, with a leap of faith into thin air! I could feel myself freefalling, one of the most liberating feelings ever, flying through the air, arms stretched, into the Nile river. The day continued with card playing and relaxing-followed be spiced French fries and beer in the evening.
The next day we were off to our next destination- The Hairy Lemon - a remote island with minimal electricity, hammocks, and a serious babbling brook. We spent the next 3 days on the island, learning about the man who just took it over who has been ‘living in the bush’ for the last 20 years. A man who had a vision of a retreat Zen Island, he went to visit, bought it, and had been there for the last 3 months. The water surrounding the small island had enough of a current when you could lie in a tube and it would take you to the opposite side. The wonderful owners parents were there helping him establish the completely self sustainable island with solar panels, a water mill, garden, and livestock, three meals were cooked for us everyday. The running water from the outdoor showers felt Vermont cabin esque in the middle of Africa.
Eventually it was time to say our goodbyes and face reality again.
Returning back to the main land we were hot, smelly, and sweaty. We waited on a crammed bus for an hour before it left, got a flat tire on the road, drove on for quite some time, eventually repairs were attempted, we drove further until it was deemed un-drivable. We were then put on a very large public bus which ran out of gas shortly after departure, we eventually got ion a third bus, finally making it to Kampala. We were mesmerized by all the street food, street food is non-existent in Rwanda, Kampala was especially bustling because it was Independence Day. When we went to get tickets home we were told there were only 2 tickets left on the bus, problem because we were a group of 4. Immediately we began to panic- how would we get home- where would we stay, what were we going to do. We were briefly distracted by a man in the bus station flipping and throwing a cat, however, we eventually we got tickets for the 3 am with a different bus company across town.
So what do four white girls do for 6 hours when the sun has set, they have everything they own in a large backpacks that they must carry and protect with their lives, and they have to wait for a bus? We went on a walk, ate as much delicious street food as possible, spent time in a warehouse that smelt like fish, laid down and attempted to rest in another damp room on a straw mat ignoring the infestation of rats, sat outside, got intensely stared and gawked at…all very normal.
Needless to say as soon as I got on the bus I fell asleep, waking every few minutes because the rattling window was shaking profusely and the hole under my feel sent cold air shooting up my pants. After a 2 plus hour border crossing at 8 am where all luggage was thoroughly searched to make sure no plastic bags were entering, we were in the country we call home! After another 10 cranky hours of travel I was back in Byumba- no water or electricity upon my arrival but thankfully the mouse evacuated the premises.
Myself, along with 3 friends were off, we boarded the bus that was to take us to Kampala. We arrived midday the next day. Overwhelmed by the street food, the crowds, and the filth, I quickly had something to compare Rwanda to. The vacation starts off with us lost in a chaotic taxi park, no idea where to go, no Ugandan shillings, and Rwandan francs are a completely foreign currency. “#$@(*#&$” I hear behind me as a friend trips and lands in a ditch where she twister her ankle. Quickly we remember we are Peace Corps Volunteers and get our game faces. We exchange money, find where we are going, get to the backpackers hostel we are staying, and wrap the twisted ankle. From that point it was smooth sailing. In typical fashion after some cold beers and a good meal we were ready to go.
We woke up early the next day eager to find East Africa’s ONLY SKATE PARK!! After wandering through a village and buying some Jack Fruit on the side of the road, which tasted like rubbery dry bananas, we found the park. One-drop ramp and no skaters, we were a bit unimpressed and disappointed, but then remembered we were in Uganda, in a small village and were ecstatic with the fact it even existed. We then went into town were we walked around, went to an art market, unsuccessfully attempted to eat traditional Ugandan food, and noticed the giant 8-plus foot wing span storks that live in all the trees above. We ended the day at a great rooftop bar overlooking the taxi park eating egg logs- hard-boiled eggs encompassed in deep friend balls of mashed potatoes. DELICIOUS!
The next morning we woke up ready to bungee jump! We made sure to recognize the time difference, had breakfast, a tuna melt- not exactly a traditional breakfast at 7 am, said goodbye to the monkeys wandering the grounds, and took off in shuttle. When we arrived in Jinja 2 hours later we found out we weren’t going to go bungee jumping until the following day. However, rafting was amazing!!! We took class 5 rapids down the Nile and hit a 15+ foot waterfall drop. At one point I seriously though was going to lose a finger, I should have taken them seriously when the said remove all jewelry.
After a full and exhausting day of rafting we transitioned into the night where we took upside-down shots from a kayak on the ceiling of the bar. We met a group a travelers from all over the world on a 15 weeks bus trek across Africa, a cast of interesting characters. We even convinced a staff member to drink a cup of bugs.
After a Rolex (traditional Ugandan street food), some water, and Advil I was read to go bungee jumping. I went fist. Surprisingly I felt a little bit of fear, an emotion I am not normally accustomed to. It was a very different experience than skydiving. They tied my ankles together, assured me I would live, and then I was on my own. I hopped to the ledge and then 1, 2, 3, bungee, I projected myself off, head first, with a leap of faith into thin air! I could feel myself freefalling, one of the most liberating feelings ever, flying through the air, arms stretched, into the Nile river. The day continued with card playing and relaxing-followed be spiced French fries and beer in the evening.
The next day we were off to our next destination- The Hairy Lemon - a remote island with minimal electricity, hammocks, and a serious babbling brook. We spent the next 3 days on the island, learning about the man who just took it over who has been ‘living in the bush’ for the last 20 years. A man who had a vision of a retreat Zen Island, he went to visit, bought it, and had been there for the last 3 months. The water surrounding the small island had enough of a current when you could lie in a tube and it would take you to the opposite side. The wonderful owners parents were there helping him establish the completely self sustainable island with solar panels, a water mill, garden, and livestock, three meals were cooked for us everyday. The running water from the outdoor showers felt Vermont cabin esque in the middle of Africa.
Eventually it was time to say our goodbyes and face reality again.
Returning back to the main land we were hot, smelly, and sweaty. We waited on a crammed bus for an hour before it left, got a flat tire on the road, drove on for quite some time, eventually repairs were attempted, we drove further until it was deemed un-drivable. We were then put on a very large public bus which ran out of gas shortly after departure, we eventually got ion a third bus, finally making it to Kampala. We were mesmerized by all the street food, street food is non-existent in Rwanda, Kampala was especially bustling because it was Independence Day. When we went to get tickets home we were told there were only 2 tickets left on the bus, problem because we were a group of 4. Immediately we began to panic- how would we get home- where would we stay, what were we going to do. We were briefly distracted by a man in the bus station flipping and throwing a cat, however, we eventually we got tickets for the 3 am with a different bus company across town.
So what do four white girls do for 6 hours when the sun has set, they have everything they own in a large backpacks that they must carry and protect with their lives, and they have to wait for a bus? We went on a walk, ate as much delicious street food as possible, spent time in a warehouse that smelt like fish, laid down and attempted to rest in another damp room on a straw mat ignoring the infestation of rats, sat outside, got intensely stared and gawked at…all very normal.
Needless to say as soon as I got on the bus I fell asleep, waking every few minutes because the rattling window was shaking profusely and the hole under my feel sent cold air shooting up my pants. After a 2 plus hour border crossing at 8 am where all luggage was thoroughly searched to make sure no plastic bags were entering, we were in the country we call home! After another 10 cranky hours of travel I was back in Byumba- no water or electricity upon my arrival but thankfully the mouse evacuated the premises.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Pish Posh- Posh Corps Peace Corps
Reconciliation
Rumor has it that Peace Corps Volunteers in other developing countries refer to Rwanda as Posh Corps. I see where the name stems from, yes I have electricity on a somewhat regular basis, I do not have to walk 10 k to get water, my house leaks but it is not made of mud, there are bugs, bats, and lizards, but nothing deadly. In spite of this, in my personal opinion, the emotional turmoil of Rwanda and the recent history is a completely different challenge than luxuries and comfort of a living situation. To try and understand the magnitude and fathom what happened here in recent years and what is currently happening in regard to reconciliation, this is not a tangible thought to me. To hear people’s personal stories, for them to share with me, I do not know how to respond, how to react, how to console, how they find the strength to proceed.
According to A Thousand Hills by Stephen Kinzer “99.9 percent of Rwandan children witnessed violence during the spring of 1994. Ninety percent believed they would die. Eight-seven percent saw dead bodies, 80 percent lost at least one relative, 58 percent saw people being hacked with pangas, and 31 percent witnessed rapes and other sexual assaults.”
I would like to share excerpts from A Thousand Hills in an attempt to convey the strength of the Rwandan people as they smile and look towards the future and put conflict behind them.
...Deeply rooted social conflicts like the one that devastated Rwanda in 1994 cannot be resolved through trial and punishment alone. A country torn so violently apart can stabilize only if former enemies reconcile. In Rwanda, this means that people must forgive those who slaughtered their families and even live beside them in newfound brotherhood. This is not a rational thing to do. Yet it is happening in Rwanda, on a grander scale than it ever has anywhere.
….Rosaria Bankuniye, lost her husband and four children in 1994, when she was twenty years old; the man who hacked them to death also attacked her and left her for dead, as the long scar across her face testifies. The killer, Xavier Nemeye, is free after serving nine years in prison. On the day I came to Mbyo [a village in southern Rwanda made up of about fifty concrete huts housing genocide survivors and released genocidaires], the neighborhood has assembles in shady grove to hear both of them testify. Most were women, brightly colorful in patterned batik dresses. All fell silent when Deo [a psychology professor and itinerant pastor who has assumed the mission of bringing Rwanda’s victims and killers together] rose to speak.
He [Deo] exhorted them to leave their rancor behind and devote all their energy to fighting Satan, whose name in Rwanda, he said, is poverty. When he invoked God’s presence, many people closed their eyes and turned skyward. Then he called on Rosaria and Xavier.
They [Rosaria and Xavier] came forward haltingly, as if in pain. Finally they settled onto a log, besides one another but not touching. Everyone before them knew their story. Many had similar ones.
Rosaria was small and frail, aged beyond her years and bent by toil. She wore a flowing yellow skirt and full blouse in a brown-and-yellow batik pattern. After taking a long moment to steel herself, she looked up and began describing how her family was murdered. She spoke softly but clearly. After a few minutes, when she reached the part about the maggots infesting her skull wound while she lay beneath a pile of corpses, she broke down.
All of Rosaria’s neighbors had wept many times, so this was nothing unusual. They waited quietly and even approvingly, some clutching each other’s hands, until she regained her composure and began again. She started by gesturing at the man sitting next to her, although she never looked at him.
“When he killed us, he also destroyed our home and took all out belongings,” she stammered, struggling to resist another breakdown. “I lived off the help form other people. But thanks to God, we had the blessing to reconcile with those who committed these acts. It is so hard to talk to talk to someone who killed your family. So I thank God that we have has the chance to live together and reconcile.”
These words puzzled me. They were undoubly sincere, but the emotion they conveyed- they willingness of this woman to forgive the person who has so grievously harmed her- was difficult to fathom. I grappled with it during the long silence that followed Rosaria’s testimony. Then Xavier began to speak. He looked sometimes at the congregation and sometimes at his feet, but never at Rosaria...”
Rosaria lost everything, he family, her children, she was once rich, with cows, goats, and money in the bank. She will never get that back. Yet she stated, “I don’t wish anything bad for that person. He will die the death God planned for him…”
The strength here to move ahead is a larger concept then I am personally prepared to comprehend. To understand the people, envision what they have been through, and learn from them, that is the challenge I face here everyday in Rwanda. Recently a family friends military base was referred to as Camp Cupcake because there was a Baskin Robbins and other American luxuries, I now realize that does not mean it is as simple as it sounds. Peace Corps doesn’t always feel so Posh Corps here in Rwanda.
President Paul Kagame was quoted saying:
“What is the future? We become prisoners of the past and live like that? It happened. We can’t undo it, unfortunately. If we could undo it, that would be ideal, but life isn’t like that. It’s a change you have to make. Otherwise you suffer twice. You suffer in the present and you continue to suffer forever.”
Rumor has it that Peace Corps Volunteers in other developing countries refer to Rwanda as Posh Corps. I see where the name stems from, yes I have electricity on a somewhat regular basis, I do not have to walk 10 k to get water, my house leaks but it is not made of mud, there are bugs, bats, and lizards, but nothing deadly. In spite of this, in my personal opinion, the emotional turmoil of Rwanda and the recent history is a completely different challenge than luxuries and comfort of a living situation. To try and understand the magnitude and fathom what happened here in recent years and what is currently happening in regard to reconciliation, this is not a tangible thought to me. To hear people’s personal stories, for them to share with me, I do not know how to respond, how to react, how to console, how they find the strength to proceed.
According to A Thousand Hills by Stephen Kinzer “99.9 percent of Rwandan children witnessed violence during the spring of 1994. Ninety percent believed they would die. Eight-seven percent saw dead bodies, 80 percent lost at least one relative, 58 percent saw people being hacked with pangas, and 31 percent witnessed rapes and other sexual assaults.”
I would like to share excerpts from A Thousand Hills in an attempt to convey the strength of the Rwandan people as they smile and look towards the future and put conflict behind them.
...Deeply rooted social conflicts like the one that devastated Rwanda in 1994 cannot be resolved through trial and punishment alone. A country torn so violently apart can stabilize only if former enemies reconcile. In Rwanda, this means that people must forgive those who slaughtered their families and even live beside them in newfound brotherhood. This is not a rational thing to do. Yet it is happening in Rwanda, on a grander scale than it ever has anywhere.
….Rosaria Bankuniye, lost her husband and four children in 1994, when she was twenty years old; the man who hacked them to death also attacked her and left her for dead, as the long scar across her face testifies. The killer, Xavier Nemeye, is free after serving nine years in prison. On the day I came to Mbyo [a village in southern Rwanda made up of about fifty concrete huts housing genocide survivors and released genocidaires], the neighborhood has assembles in shady grove to hear both of them testify. Most were women, brightly colorful in patterned batik dresses. All fell silent when Deo [a psychology professor and itinerant pastor who has assumed the mission of bringing Rwanda’s victims and killers together] rose to speak.
He [Deo] exhorted them to leave their rancor behind and devote all their energy to fighting Satan, whose name in Rwanda, he said, is poverty. When he invoked God’s presence, many people closed their eyes and turned skyward. Then he called on Rosaria and Xavier.
They [Rosaria and Xavier] came forward haltingly, as if in pain. Finally they settled onto a log, besides one another but not touching. Everyone before them knew their story. Many had similar ones.
Rosaria was small and frail, aged beyond her years and bent by toil. She wore a flowing yellow skirt and full blouse in a brown-and-yellow batik pattern. After taking a long moment to steel herself, she looked up and began describing how her family was murdered. She spoke softly but clearly. After a few minutes, when she reached the part about the maggots infesting her skull wound while she lay beneath a pile of corpses, she broke down.
All of Rosaria’s neighbors had wept many times, so this was nothing unusual. They waited quietly and even approvingly, some clutching each other’s hands, until she regained her composure and began again. She started by gesturing at the man sitting next to her, although she never looked at him.
“When he killed us, he also destroyed our home and took all out belongings,” she stammered, struggling to resist another breakdown. “I lived off the help form other people. But thanks to God, we had the blessing to reconcile with those who committed these acts. It is so hard to talk to talk to someone who killed your family. So I thank God that we have has the chance to live together and reconcile.”
These words puzzled me. They were undoubly sincere, but the emotion they conveyed- they willingness of this woman to forgive the person who has so grievously harmed her- was difficult to fathom. I grappled with it during the long silence that followed Rosaria’s testimony. Then Xavier began to speak. He looked sometimes at the congregation and sometimes at his feet, but never at Rosaria...”
Rosaria lost everything, he family, her children, she was once rich, with cows, goats, and money in the bank. She will never get that back. Yet she stated, “I don’t wish anything bad for that person. He will die the death God planned for him…”
The strength here to move ahead is a larger concept then I am personally prepared to comprehend. To understand the people, envision what they have been through, and learn from them, that is the challenge I face here everyday in Rwanda. Recently a family friends military base was referred to as Camp Cupcake because there was a Baskin Robbins and other American luxuries, I now realize that does not mean it is as simple as it sounds. Peace Corps doesn’t always feel so Posh Corps here in Rwanda.
President Paul Kagame was quoted saying:
“What is the future? We become prisoners of the past and live like that? It happened. We can’t undo it, unfortunately. If we could undo it, that would be ideal, but life isn’t like that. It’s a change you have to make. Otherwise you suffer twice. You suffer in the present and you continue to suffer forever.”
Friday, September 10, 2010
Dictionary Drive
To all who wants to make a difference- I am collecting dictionaries from the US to give to individuals in Rwanda who want to learn and expand their English vocabulary. Dust off the dictionary that has been sitting on your shelf unopened for years, people here in Rwanda will cherish these books. Please give them to my mother or Brian Collins by the end of September. If you need contact information please email me (averykarlowich@gmail.com) and I will send you further details. Don’t have a dictionary to donate, you can order an inexpensive used one at www.betterworldbooks.com, domestic shipping is free and profits go to literacy initiatives worldwide.
I am writing this blog on behalf of potential recipients of dictionaries that aspire to teach themselves and through education lead a better life.
When I first arrived in Rwanda I was trained on culture, language, and technical aspects, upon completion I was sworn in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer and I have been living in a community in the north evaluating the needs of the people and assessing how I can help establish long-term sustainable projects and solutions. Currently I am working with the Mafurebo Primary School on a variety of different projects, from improving the quality of the education and the curriculum to helping with the structure of the school and a water collection systems. The Mafurebo Primary School is located in a rural and mountainous area and does not have running water or electricity. Agriculture is the main source of income in the region. Despite the living conditions the Mafurebo Primary School is determined to educate the youth that attend the school through progressive and forward-thinking curriculum.
The headmaster and teachers of the school are feverishly trying to learn English, they are determined to become fluent. They listen to the Voice Of America Special English segment on the radio whenever it is available and converse with me in English as much as possible. It has come to my attention that the school does not have any dictionaries for teachers or students to look up words they are unfamiliar with. In October of 2008 the Rwandan Government declared English to be the official language of instruction, opening Rwanda up to a world of new opportunities. While the teachers are doing the best they can, dictionaries would greatly improve their vocabularies and provide them with increased hope towards the future.
Approximately 1,320 teachers and students will be directly affected; the books will create an indirect benefit for the community members as well. While shipping costs are normally astronomical having someone deliver them personally would eliminate all transport fees, this is possible because Brian Collins is coming here!!
Dictionaries will immediately have a positive effect and dramatically improve the vocabulary and conversing abilities of the students and teachers at the Mafurebo Primary School. They will help create a culture of literacy and provide the tools of empowerment to the next generation of parents, teachers, and leaders.
Make a difference!
XO Keza
I am writing this blog on behalf of potential recipients of dictionaries that aspire to teach themselves and through education lead a better life.
When I first arrived in Rwanda I was trained on culture, language, and technical aspects, upon completion I was sworn in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer and I have been living in a community in the north evaluating the needs of the people and assessing how I can help establish long-term sustainable projects and solutions. Currently I am working with the Mafurebo Primary School on a variety of different projects, from improving the quality of the education and the curriculum to helping with the structure of the school and a water collection systems. The Mafurebo Primary School is located in a rural and mountainous area and does not have running water or electricity. Agriculture is the main source of income in the region. Despite the living conditions the Mafurebo Primary School is determined to educate the youth that attend the school through progressive and forward-thinking curriculum.
The headmaster and teachers of the school are feverishly trying to learn English, they are determined to become fluent. They listen to the Voice Of America Special English segment on the radio whenever it is available and converse with me in English as much as possible. It has come to my attention that the school does not have any dictionaries for teachers or students to look up words they are unfamiliar with. In October of 2008 the Rwandan Government declared English to be the official language of instruction, opening Rwanda up to a world of new opportunities. While the teachers are doing the best they can, dictionaries would greatly improve their vocabularies and provide them with increased hope towards the future.
Approximately 1,320 teachers and students will be directly affected; the books will create an indirect benefit for the community members as well. While shipping costs are normally astronomical having someone deliver them personally would eliminate all transport fees, this is possible because Brian Collins is coming here!!
Dictionaries will immediately have a positive effect and dramatically improve the vocabulary and conversing abilities of the students and teachers at the Mafurebo Primary School. They will help create a culture of literacy and provide the tools of empowerment to the next generation of parents, teachers, and leaders.
Make a difference!
XO Keza
Thursday, August 26, 2010
You have to know how to laugh at yourself….
I think the key to integration in Rwanda is the ability to laugh at yourself, not just when you are trying to say a completely foreign word with marbles in your mouth but at all times and in all situations.
Recently I went to part 1 of my Peace Corps IST, In Service Training. The focus of the two-day training was on language and culture. As suspected, my Kinyarwanda remains sub par, this is something I have accepted, I can bargain in the market, greet people, and make small talk, I think that is far as it will progress with the exception of a few improvements during my time here. While my language is lacking I found that I have made great strides when it comes to my community integration. It was a nice feeling when numerous volunteers said they admire my strategies and my fearless attitude when it comes getting involved with the people of Rwanda.
Even though I do not share a common language or the same upbringing with the people here we are all human, we are have curiosities and are interested in the unknown; in this case I am the unknown. For many individuals I am the first white person they are ever seeing. Because of a limited vocabulary visual clues have become my go to for communication, pointing, miming, mimicking, although we share no common words there is a plethora we can communicate just by sharing space.
Often I find people staring at the tattoos on my feet (tattoos do not exist in Rwanda), my response is with sarcasm showing the people they do not rub off, same if I have my toe nails painted. I have very different hair than Rwandans, I often take it down and let people touch and play with it it, they are fascinated! Today I found myself walking the same route as a group of teenage girls. The girls were carrying baskets on their heads, while I do not know the verb ‘to carry a basket on ones head (yes there is a verb for that) I was able to mimic that I wanted to try and my point was successfully communicated. I carried a basket on my head, we all laughed together, and they asked me to take a photo of them.
Yes, with language skills I would be able to form better and deeper friendships. However, by accepting that my physical appearance is very different from anything they have seen before and putting on a muzungu comedy show I have made a great deal of friends. I have come to realize that by feeding into their curiosity and being able to laugh at myself in almost every situation my community integration has benefited greatly.
Recently I went to part 1 of my Peace Corps IST, In Service Training. The focus of the two-day training was on language and culture. As suspected, my Kinyarwanda remains sub par, this is something I have accepted, I can bargain in the market, greet people, and make small talk, I think that is far as it will progress with the exception of a few improvements during my time here. While my language is lacking I found that I have made great strides when it comes to my community integration. It was a nice feeling when numerous volunteers said they admire my strategies and my fearless attitude when it comes getting involved with the people of Rwanda.
Even though I do not share a common language or the same upbringing with the people here we are all human, we are have curiosities and are interested in the unknown; in this case I am the unknown. For many individuals I am the first white person they are ever seeing. Because of a limited vocabulary visual clues have become my go to for communication, pointing, miming, mimicking, although we share no common words there is a plethora we can communicate just by sharing space.
Often I find people staring at the tattoos on my feet (tattoos do not exist in Rwanda), my response is with sarcasm showing the people they do not rub off, same if I have my toe nails painted. I have very different hair than Rwandans, I often take it down and let people touch and play with it it, they are fascinated! Today I found myself walking the same route as a group of teenage girls. The girls were carrying baskets on their heads, while I do not know the verb ‘to carry a basket on ones head (yes there is a verb for that) I was able to mimic that I wanted to try and my point was successfully communicated. I carried a basket on my head, we all laughed together, and they asked me to take a photo of them.
Yes, with language skills I would be able to form better and deeper friendships. However, by accepting that my physical appearance is very different from anything they have seen before and putting on a muzungu comedy show I have made a great deal of friends. I have come to realize that by feeding into their curiosity and being able to laugh at myself in almost every situation my community integration has benefited greatly.
You have to know how to laugh at yourself….
I think the key to integration in Rwanda is the ability to laugh at yourself, not just when you are trying to say a completely foreign word with marbles in your mouth but at all times and in all situations.
Recently I went to part 1 of my Peace Corps IST, In Service Training. The focus of the two-day training was on language and culture. As suspected, my Kinyarwanda remains sub par, this is something I have accepted, I can bargain in the market, greet people, and make small talk, I think that is far as it will progress with the exception of a few improvements during my time here. While my language is lacking I found that I have made great strides when it comes to my community integration. It was a nice feeling when numerous volunteers said they admire my strategies and my fearless attitude when it comes getting involved with the people of Rwanda.
Even though I do not share a common language or the same upbringing with the people here we are all human, we are have curiosities and are interested in the unknown; in this case I am the unknown. For many individuals I am the first white person they are ever seeing. Because of a limited vocabulary visual clues have become my go to for communication, pointing, miming, mimicking, although we share no common words there is a plethora we can communicate just by sharing space.
Often I find people staring at the tattoos on my feet (tattoos do not exist in Rwanda), my response is with sarcasm showing the people they do not rub off, same if I have my toe nails painted. I have very different hair than Rwandans, I often take it down and let people touch and play with it it, they are fascinated! Today I found myself walking the same route as a group of teenage girls. The girls were carrying baskets on their heads, while I do not know the verb ‘to carry a basket on ones head (yes there is a verb for that) I was able to mimic that I wanted to try and my point was successfully communicated. I carried a basket on my head, we all laughed together, and they asked me to take a photo of them.
Yes, with language skills I would be able to form better and deeper friendships. However, by accepting that my physical appearance is very different from anything they have seen before and putting on a muzungu comedy show I have made a great deal of friends. I have come to realize that by feeding into their curiosity and being able to laugh at myself in almost every situation my community integration has benefited greatly.
Recently I went to part 1 of my Peace Corps IST, In Service Training. The focus of the two-day training was on language and culture. As suspected, my Kinyarwanda remains sub par, this is something I have accepted, I can bargain in the market, greet people, and make small talk, I think that is far as it will progress with the exception of a few improvements during my time here. While my language is lacking I found that I have made great strides when it comes to my community integration. It was a nice feeling when numerous volunteers said they admire my strategies and my fearless attitude when it comes getting involved with the people of Rwanda.
Even though I do not share a common language or the same upbringing with the people here we are all human, we are have curiosities and are interested in the unknown; in this case I am the unknown. For many individuals I am the first white person they are ever seeing. Because of a limited vocabulary visual clues have become my go to for communication, pointing, miming, mimicking, although we share no common words there is a plethora we can communicate just by sharing space.
Often I find people staring at the tattoos on my feet (tattoos do not exist in Rwanda), my response is with sarcasm showing the people they do not rub off, same if I have my toe nails painted. I have very different hair than Rwandans, I often take it down and let people touch and play with it it, they are fascinated! Today I found myself walking the same route as a group of teenage girls. The girls were carrying baskets on their heads, while I do not know the verb ‘to carry a basket on ones head (yes there is a verb for that) I was able to mimic that I wanted to try and my point was successfully communicated. I carried a basket on my head, we all laughed together, and they asked me to take a photo of them.
Yes, with language skills I would be able to form better and deeper friendships. However, by accepting that my physical appearance is very different from anything they have seen before and putting on a muzungu comedy show I have made a great deal of friends. I have come to realize that by feeding into their curiosity and being able to laugh at myself in almost every situation my community integration has benefited greatly.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Another Year Older
Another year older, does this mean I am wiser? I do not know how to measure wisdom, I do know I have developed a stronger sense of myself, who I am, what I believe, and what I want to represent as a person.
When first removed from New York and placed in Rwanda I though I would have trouble adjusting to the slower lifestyle, in the beginning this was difficult, however I have adjusted some, learning that life is more about relationships and less about speeding through a checklist. It was after reading Three Cups of Tea that I truly began to realize the importance of the interactions and the relationships I cultivate.
“…People in western civilization no longer have time for each other, they have no time together, they do not share the experience of time. This explains why Westerners are incapable of understanding the psychology of sitting. In villages all over the world sitting is an important social activity. Sitting is not a ‘waste of time’ not is it a manifestation of laziness. Sitting is having time together, time to cultivate social relations.”
-Andreas Fuglesang
Everything here is slower, starting a project, getting an answer, determining and solving a problem, but it is with the time that I learn who people are and they learn who I am.
I have recently started a new project through watercharity.org. Five of so weeks ago I met with a school in an outskirt village to make sure they understood the role CHF Higa Ubeho plays in conjunction with ADEPR and school fees. After sitting with the head master, teachers, and PTA I learned about some of the programs they have implemented and what they are doing to provide a better future for all the youth that attend the school- It was the first time a school told me they teach health education, the school teaches about menstrual cycles and what girls are to do so they do not miss school. After I met the 1,300 children that attend the primary school with no books, no running water, and no electricity, I decided I wanted to get further involved with this particular school. Something about the energy of the school and positive progressive thinking of the teachers hooked me immediately. The headmaster and one of the teachers were counselors at the Holiday Camp, together we began to discuss and brainstorm the problems they have and what they see as feasible solutions. On my part I submitted their unsafe and unhygienic water collection system to watercharity.org where it was then approved for $500 USD towards a new collection system (http://appropriateprojects.com/node/307). Yesterday, Pacifique and Innocent, the headmaster and teacher, walked 3 plus hours to the market in the district capital, where I live, to price materials before we sat to make a strict budget and a construction timeline, after out meeting they walked the 3 plus hours back home because mottos are too expensive on a teachers salary. Saturday they will return on foot to purchase the materials they can only acquire here Byumba and then construction will begin at the school on Monday. Although I took the initiative for this project I believe it was acceptable since I have the access to watercharity funds because I am a Peace Corps Volunteer. I have made sure that the school has taken ownership of the project to ensure they will respect the funds and the final outcome, it was the school that identified the problem and brainstormed additional possible solutions if I could not obtain the money for them. With access to water the children and teachers will be able to wash their hands to prevent disease and have water to drink to prevent dehydration. Children will receive a more complete education because they will be able to attend school more often, which leads to a better future. The fortitude and determination I see in Pacifique and Innocent to better the lives of the youth is something that will stay with me forever.
It is through the sitting, waiting, and lingering, that I have begun to build trust with people in my community. Dawdling my acquaintances, friends, and people I have made part of my daily routine are beginning to realize that I am a Peace Corps Volunteer, not a spy, they are accepting that I do not come with bags of money to solve their problems, I come with time to listen and it is through our collaboration of ideas to identify solutions to problems that they will get solved.
Wiser because another birthday has passed? I think the date is only a marker of time when it comes to wisdom. Patience, patience and self-realization, that is something I can more clearly measure and confidently say has developed this year. The art of sitting and friendships, getting to know one another, something deeply valued here, a skill I hope is transferable to America, something I want to wholeheartedly bring back with me.
When first removed from New York and placed in Rwanda I though I would have trouble adjusting to the slower lifestyle, in the beginning this was difficult, however I have adjusted some, learning that life is more about relationships and less about speeding through a checklist. It was after reading Three Cups of Tea that I truly began to realize the importance of the interactions and the relationships I cultivate.
“…People in western civilization no longer have time for each other, they have no time together, they do not share the experience of time. This explains why Westerners are incapable of understanding the psychology of sitting. In villages all over the world sitting is an important social activity. Sitting is not a ‘waste of time’ not is it a manifestation of laziness. Sitting is having time together, time to cultivate social relations.”
-Andreas Fuglesang
Everything here is slower, starting a project, getting an answer, determining and solving a problem, but it is with the time that I learn who people are and they learn who I am.
I have recently started a new project through watercharity.org. Five of so weeks ago I met with a school in an outskirt village to make sure they understood the role CHF Higa Ubeho plays in conjunction with ADEPR and school fees. After sitting with the head master, teachers, and PTA I learned about some of the programs they have implemented and what they are doing to provide a better future for all the youth that attend the school- It was the first time a school told me they teach health education, the school teaches about menstrual cycles and what girls are to do so they do not miss school. After I met the 1,300 children that attend the primary school with no books, no running water, and no electricity, I decided I wanted to get further involved with this particular school. Something about the energy of the school and positive progressive thinking of the teachers hooked me immediately. The headmaster and one of the teachers were counselors at the Holiday Camp, together we began to discuss and brainstorm the problems they have and what they see as feasible solutions. On my part I submitted their unsafe and unhygienic water collection system to watercharity.org where it was then approved for $500 USD towards a new collection system (http://appropriateprojects.com/node/307). Yesterday, Pacifique and Innocent, the headmaster and teacher, walked 3 plus hours to the market in the district capital, where I live, to price materials before we sat to make a strict budget and a construction timeline, after out meeting they walked the 3 plus hours back home because mottos are too expensive on a teachers salary. Saturday they will return on foot to purchase the materials they can only acquire here Byumba and then construction will begin at the school on Monday. Although I took the initiative for this project I believe it was acceptable since I have the access to watercharity funds because I am a Peace Corps Volunteer. I have made sure that the school has taken ownership of the project to ensure they will respect the funds and the final outcome, it was the school that identified the problem and brainstormed additional possible solutions if I could not obtain the money for them. With access to water the children and teachers will be able to wash their hands to prevent disease and have water to drink to prevent dehydration. Children will receive a more complete education because they will be able to attend school more often, which leads to a better future. The fortitude and determination I see in Pacifique and Innocent to better the lives of the youth is something that will stay with me forever.
It is through the sitting, waiting, and lingering, that I have begun to build trust with people in my community. Dawdling my acquaintances, friends, and people I have made part of my daily routine are beginning to realize that I am a Peace Corps Volunteer, not a spy, they are accepting that I do not come with bags of money to solve their problems, I come with time to listen and it is through our collaboration of ideas to identify solutions to problems that they will get solved.
Wiser because another birthday has passed? I think the date is only a marker of time when it comes to wisdom. Patience, patience and self-realization, that is something I can more clearly measure and confidently say has developed this year. The art of sitting and friendships, getting to know one another, something deeply valued here, a skill I hope is transferable to America, something I want to wholeheartedly bring back with me.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Becoming Acclimated
It possible that I have become somewhat accustomed to some of the basic things I once found frustrating and unusual, the police officer on the back of a motto screaming out “you are smart”, running behind schedule by 7 hours, and just, well just sitting.
A few weeks ago I asked my host mother to go with me to the market to buy igitenge, fabric. She was so delighted, absolutely thrilled to take me. We set a date, went to the market, and then the umudozi, tailor. This was a two fold plan, she was proud to take me to the market, and I got to see which fabric stand and tailor she goes to rather than seeking one out on my own and experimenting with trial and error if they are a good seamstress. I decided to first wear my new head to toe blue and yellow patterned African fabric outfit to church when I picked it up the following week. When I first put it on it felt like a costume, but after 10 minutes in my home wearing it I adjusted and began to fell a little more comfortable. As soon as a step out of my alley the stares and long obvious glances begin, but this is normal since no matter what I do I will still be white, I think nothing of it until someone screams “you are smart,” as they wiz by on a motto, I look up to notice that this is a police officer. I know I stick out, but normally law enforcement respects boundaries and doesn’t stare or say muzungu to me. I continue my 30-minute walk to church, where almost every person that speaks even a smidgen of English tells me, “you are smart.” Now either I missed the memo and we say this in America, or it is a British thing, I also noticed they say it in the book Baking Cakes in Kigali.
Last week I was part of a holiday camp. The primary and secondary schools are on break for 3 weeks, they are in between terms, except for secondary3 and seconday6, they have a class and break at a different time. The OVCs (orphans and vulnerable children) I work with to help obtain school fees through CHF and USAID were invited to the camp. The camp itself was remarkable, a cross between school where it is based on education, and camp, where it is based solely on fun. We did all sorts of different activities based on the theme, “Higa Ubeho,” be determined and live. There were, discussions, debates, skits, songs, cartoons drawn, overall it was a great week, a hands on experience in an environment I was able to thrive in. The OVCs, all 800+ of them slept at the school in the dorms, I went home every night, around 10:30pm to leave my house again at 7am. It is not the long hours that bothered me in anyway, I like to work and the week went by quickly, it was the lack of organization and running behind schedule for no reason that frustrated me to an extent, but it is something I was prepared for, as it is a common encounter. There were times when information needed to be gathered from the OVCs and the counselors/teachers asked for it in the most unorganized impractical way. When I tried to ask why we didn’t do it another day they looked at me as if I were crazy. Eventually the information was gathered and this week it is all being entered in the computer database so we know the name of each child, where they live (the umudugudu-basically the block), if they are HIV+, if they have either parent, what school they are currently attending, the amount they need to cover school fees for the following 2 terms, all practical information, but the process to collect the information, backwards. On day 5 of camp, where we were supposed to be done at 10 am and the children were to go home, we finished at 5pm, where we then weren’t even completely done, we still had more to sort and paperwork to organize. I felt awful that the day took so long because I told my host mother that I would go to see her house girl, the one that cooks, baptism, and then I didn’t go. I felt terrible but explained to them that the camp went late, and of course they understood. Here baptisms are done when you are an adult, so you can make the conscious decision yourself, just like when my parents made me wait until almost the 5th grade to get my ears pierces! Ok well not at all the same, but the concept of making a decision for yourself is the same. With religion guiding and playing such a large part in almost all Rwandan’s lives many must make the choice to be baptized. Definitely disappointed I missed it, hopefully the next time 10 churches gather together for baptism ceremonies and house girls get to wear ‘smart’ (wambaye neza) clothes I will be able to attend.
Last umuganda was less eventful than others. I normally go with Ononline, just like online in English as she told me. But this week my host mother told me that she couldn’t go because she had to stay home and wash her clothes. Eric, my host mother’s brother is home form secondary school so he went to represent my mother’s household so I went with him. We went to a nearby primary school where he told me we were going to help with trees. For the record while we have many woods to describe the parts of a tree and product from a tree, branch, stick, skewer, wood, pencil etc they only have one, tree. So it was a little unclear as to what we would be doing, were we going to plant trees, water seedlings, help tomato plants grow upright…what we did was chop down trees from a nearby forest area and carry them to a local school to build a welcome archway. I still haven’t gotten the chance to carry anything on my head, it took about 4 of us to carry each tree on our shoulder, thankfully the school was only a short walk from the forest area. After this we helped remove desks from each classroom so they could be cleaned while the children were still on holiday. After this came the sitting. I SAT ON GRASS!!! For all that know me this is a HUGE HUGE deal! I didn’t like it but I did it anyway. I asked Eric what was next and he told me we had to wait to vote for positions in the umudugudu (the local community comprised of a few houses). I sat with the ladies of my umudugudu who were thoroughly amused by my attempt to talk in Kinyarwanda to them. We sat and waited and waited and waited, then representation from the health center came where we listened, and waited, then we talked about what we heard, and then we nominated people for positions in the umudugudu, they tried to nominate me but I told them I would respectfully have to decline as I am a volunteer in the country and not a native citizen and don’t speak the language. We talked about what we thought about the nominations, and then we sat, well you get the idea. There was a lot of sitting. This was on Saturday. On Monday there was more sitting. As a Peace Corps Volunteer I am strictly forbidden from getting involved in political matters. With the upcoming elections, August 9, I have been careful to follow the Peace Corps policy. My counterpart was also respectful of this when she asked me if I wanted to go to a speech given by President Paul Kagame in my district. She was told she had to go to supervise the OVCs because they were all given instructions to attend when they were at the camp the previous week. I told her it would be all right for me to go, I was going to listen to his speech as an observer not taking part in the elections. For the people of the Gicumbi the president’s presence was an honor and they were very excited, I know this because me, the girl who sleeps like a rock, woke up at 3:14 am the night before the speech to a parade of people banging on drums walking to the stadium where the speech was going to take place. I was fortunate enough to take a motto to the stadium that ADEPR, my work, paid for, the motto tide took over 45 minutes, so to walk that is quite a distance, im guessing approximately the distance of sea cliff to riverhead, to stand/sit in the hot sun, to walk home at the end of the following day. Dedication for people to travel by foot, as that is all they can afford and wanted to get the chance to be in the presidents company. When we arrived at the location we did not know where the OVCs were because we did not pick on meeting spot or a time so they are scattered throughout the crowd. Sophie, my counterpart, and I took a seat, on the grass again, and waited. There were performances by singers and guest speakers that addresses the crowd, Paul Kagame arrived by helicopter eventually and spoke, encouraging the people to vote, stating his campaign slogan “Tora Paul Kagame” Vote Paul Kagame, and “Imvugo Nivo Ngiro” what he says he puts in action. Terms are 7 years here, Kagame has already served 2 and you can serve up to 3, 21 years in office. After the sitting came the exit, mayhem!! Imagine the same amount of people as a Jones Beach concert, pushing and shoving to get to the front, the police and security held off a while before they allowed people to exit, I don’t have words to describe the sprinting full force the took place and the dust cloud the followed. Sophie had the right idea when she had me stand back and wait a short while before we tried to exit. I heard that there were deaths from people being trampled when exiting but I’m not positive.
Part of me is acclimated and accustomed to the daily life here, I drink my tea like a Rwandan, I am addicted to fresh milk, I have even picked my nose in public, completely culturally acceptable, however, I still think about cold iced tea, I use common and logical sense when solving problems and in my daily life, and I am absolutely disgusted with snot rockets, that will never be acceptable to me. Just like I will never understand all cultural norms Rwandans will never totally understand me, they are getting used to the idea that I want my bangs to be in my face and they do not bother me, I like to dunk my cornbread in my milk, and that just because I am white does not mean I am rich, alright, the last one I am still working really hard on, but a few understand. Buhoro buhoro, slowly by slow.
A few weeks ago I asked my host mother to go with me to the market to buy igitenge, fabric. She was so delighted, absolutely thrilled to take me. We set a date, went to the market, and then the umudozi, tailor. This was a two fold plan, she was proud to take me to the market, and I got to see which fabric stand and tailor she goes to rather than seeking one out on my own and experimenting with trial and error if they are a good seamstress. I decided to first wear my new head to toe blue and yellow patterned African fabric outfit to church when I picked it up the following week. When I first put it on it felt like a costume, but after 10 minutes in my home wearing it I adjusted and began to fell a little more comfortable. As soon as a step out of my alley the stares and long obvious glances begin, but this is normal since no matter what I do I will still be white, I think nothing of it until someone screams “you are smart,” as they wiz by on a motto, I look up to notice that this is a police officer. I know I stick out, but normally law enforcement respects boundaries and doesn’t stare or say muzungu to me. I continue my 30-minute walk to church, where almost every person that speaks even a smidgen of English tells me, “you are smart.” Now either I missed the memo and we say this in America, or it is a British thing, I also noticed they say it in the book Baking Cakes in Kigali.
Last week I was part of a holiday camp. The primary and secondary schools are on break for 3 weeks, they are in between terms, except for secondary3 and seconday6, they have a class and break at a different time. The OVCs (orphans and vulnerable children) I work with to help obtain school fees through CHF and USAID were invited to the camp. The camp itself was remarkable, a cross between school where it is based on education, and camp, where it is based solely on fun. We did all sorts of different activities based on the theme, “Higa Ubeho,” be determined and live. There were, discussions, debates, skits, songs, cartoons drawn, overall it was a great week, a hands on experience in an environment I was able to thrive in. The OVCs, all 800+ of them slept at the school in the dorms, I went home every night, around 10:30pm to leave my house again at 7am. It is not the long hours that bothered me in anyway, I like to work and the week went by quickly, it was the lack of organization and running behind schedule for no reason that frustrated me to an extent, but it is something I was prepared for, as it is a common encounter. There were times when information needed to be gathered from the OVCs and the counselors/teachers asked for it in the most unorganized impractical way. When I tried to ask why we didn’t do it another day they looked at me as if I were crazy. Eventually the information was gathered and this week it is all being entered in the computer database so we know the name of each child, where they live (the umudugudu-basically the block), if they are HIV+, if they have either parent, what school they are currently attending, the amount they need to cover school fees for the following 2 terms, all practical information, but the process to collect the information, backwards. On day 5 of camp, where we were supposed to be done at 10 am and the children were to go home, we finished at 5pm, where we then weren’t even completely done, we still had more to sort and paperwork to organize. I felt awful that the day took so long because I told my host mother that I would go to see her house girl, the one that cooks, baptism, and then I didn’t go. I felt terrible but explained to them that the camp went late, and of course they understood. Here baptisms are done when you are an adult, so you can make the conscious decision yourself, just like when my parents made me wait until almost the 5th grade to get my ears pierces! Ok well not at all the same, but the concept of making a decision for yourself is the same. With religion guiding and playing such a large part in almost all Rwandan’s lives many must make the choice to be baptized. Definitely disappointed I missed it, hopefully the next time 10 churches gather together for baptism ceremonies and house girls get to wear ‘smart’ (wambaye neza) clothes I will be able to attend.
Last umuganda was less eventful than others. I normally go with Ononline, just like online in English as she told me. But this week my host mother told me that she couldn’t go because she had to stay home and wash her clothes. Eric, my host mother’s brother is home form secondary school so he went to represent my mother’s household so I went with him. We went to a nearby primary school where he told me we were going to help with trees. For the record while we have many woods to describe the parts of a tree and product from a tree, branch, stick, skewer, wood, pencil etc they only have one, tree. So it was a little unclear as to what we would be doing, were we going to plant trees, water seedlings, help tomato plants grow upright…what we did was chop down trees from a nearby forest area and carry them to a local school to build a welcome archway. I still haven’t gotten the chance to carry anything on my head, it took about 4 of us to carry each tree on our shoulder, thankfully the school was only a short walk from the forest area. After this we helped remove desks from each classroom so they could be cleaned while the children were still on holiday. After this came the sitting. I SAT ON GRASS!!! For all that know me this is a HUGE HUGE deal! I didn’t like it but I did it anyway. I asked Eric what was next and he told me we had to wait to vote for positions in the umudugudu (the local community comprised of a few houses). I sat with the ladies of my umudugudu who were thoroughly amused by my attempt to talk in Kinyarwanda to them. We sat and waited and waited and waited, then representation from the health center came where we listened, and waited, then we talked about what we heard, and then we nominated people for positions in the umudugudu, they tried to nominate me but I told them I would respectfully have to decline as I am a volunteer in the country and not a native citizen and don’t speak the language. We talked about what we thought about the nominations, and then we sat, well you get the idea. There was a lot of sitting. This was on Saturday. On Monday there was more sitting. As a Peace Corps Volunteer I am strictly forbidden from getting involved in political matters. With the upcoming elections, August 9, I have been careful to follow the Peace Corps policy. My counterpart was also respectful of this when she asked me if I wanted to go to a speech given by President Paul Kagame in my district. She was told she had to go to supervise the OVCs because they were all given instructions to attend when they were at the camp the previous week. I told her it would be all right for me to go, I was going to listen to his speech as an observer not taking part in the elections. For the people of the Gicumbi the president’s presence was an honor and they were very excited, I know this because me, the girl who sleeps like a rock, woke up at 3:14 am the night before the speech to a parade of people banging on drums walking to the stadium where the speech was going to take place. I was fortunate enough to take a motto to the stadium that ADEPR, my work, paid for, the motto tide took over 45 minutes, so to walk that is quite a distance, im guessing approximately the distance of sea cliff to riverhead, to stand/sit in the hot sun, to walk home at the end of the following day. Dedication for people to travel by foot, as that is all they can afford and wanted to get the chance to be in the presidents company. When we arrived at the location we did not know where the OVCs were because we did not pick on meeting spot or a time so they are scattered throughout the crowd. Sophie, my counterpart, and I took a seat, on the grass again, and waited. There were performances by singers and guest speakers that addresses the crowd, Paul Kagame arrived by helicopter eventually and spoke, encouraging the people to vote, stating his campaign slogan “Tora Paul Kagame” Vote Paul Kagame, and “Imvugo Nivo Ngiro” what he says he puts in action. Terms are 7 years here, Kagame has already served 2 and you can serve up to 3, 21 years in office. After the sitting came the exit, mayhem!! Imagine the same amount of people as a Jones Beach concert, pushing and shoving to get to the front, the police and security held off a while before they allowed people to exit, I don’t have words to describe the sprinting full force the took place and the dust cloud the followed. Sophie had the right idea when she had me stand back and wait a short while before we tried to exit. I heard that there were deaths from people being trampled when exiting but I’m not positive.
Part of me is acclimated and accustomed to the daily life here, I drink my tea like a Rwandan, I am addicted to fresh milk, I have even picked my nose in public, completely culturally acceptable, however, I still think about cold iced tea, I use common and logical sense when solving problems and in my daily life, and I am absolutely disgusted with snot rockets, that will never be acceptable to me. Just like I will never understand all cultural norms Rwandans will never totally understand me, they are getting used to the idea that I want my bangs to be in my face and they do not bother me, I like to dunk my cornbread in my milk, and that just because I am white does not mean I am rich, alright, the last one I am still working really hard on, but a few understand. Buhoro buhoro, slowly by slow.
Friday, July 9, 2010
How to politely accept and refuse an invitation
In Nyanza during training we would have to fill out a weekly survey, rating the trainings and lectures that took place, I remember vividly being asked about our language progress if we were able to politely accept and refuse an invitation. At the time I checked yes, but now I am not too sure, I can yes to meet someone somewhere, however, I cannot say “no thank you.” Time to take out the Kinyarwanda book.
Today was an interesting day. July 4th is also Independence Day in Rwanda, so today, Monday, July 5th everything is closed. However, this was only communicated to half of the people throughout the country. When I spoke to my counterpart on Friday, the 2nd, it was clear that we were to meet on Monday, when I called him this morning to see what time he did not answer my call, no big deal, I show up at the “office” anyway. Only to find out that he is not there and others are only there because they did not know it was a holiday. It turns out “I returned on Wednesday” was heard as “I will return next Wednesday.” My mission to go to the bank and post office, well that did not happen because they were closed, there is always tomorrow. It worked out because some Peace Corps friends of mine came to town since the schools were closed, and they will have to come back again since they need to go to the bank as well. We went to the local buffet for lunch, but since the buffet was closed they were only serving chips (fries) and brochette, this sounded like a great option, until the brochettes came out and we found out that they were liver. Not exactly the part of the goat (I think goat) that I was expecting.
Just like in American it is good to leave a spear key to your house with a friend, the irony of the situation is that I gave my friend Charisa copies of all 3 of my keys since she sometimes uses my electricity during the week to charge her electronics because she doesn’t have electricity in her village and I am often out doing field work and am not around to let her in. Today we took the big step and I gave her my spare set. The ironic part is that when she got back to her village she called me looking to see if she left her key at my house because she couldn’t find it. Her neighbor was able to pry open the door and is she going to get new locks tomorrow and then going make sure someone has the spare set.
In the evening I went to my host family’s house. Here is the point of needing to know how to say “no thank you.” My host family is amazing, great people and wonderful to be around. And if I spend enough time there food usually appears. My host mother tells me to always ask the umucozis (house girls) for food if she is not home but im not comfortable asking. I have no complaints about Rwandan food either, a lot of starch-rice, bread, potatoes, but they also have vegetables and beans. The food is generally not prepared the way I would, but im not in any rush to do all my own cooking everyday, especially on a kerosene stove in a corner of my house. So today after hanging around with the kids for a few hours my host dad came come and told me they were having friends over. The friends came, we talked, I introduced myself, we drank tea, had peanuts, then I was about ready to go home. And out comes the cassava bread, I wish there was a polite way to say, “no thank you I am full”, because that just isn’t an excuse here. You can get out of anything by saying you have to wash your hair or do your laundry but when it comes to eating you have to eat it. Being ‘big’ is a sign of wealth, you can afford to eat, everyone here wants to fatten me up! Cassava bread is a similar consistency to uncooked pizza dough but grainier, they dip it in an oily sauce with a piece of fatty meat. It is not that I hate cassava bread, but it is not on the top of my list of Rwandan foods, so I dipped and ate and did the best I could, but there is a point when enough is enough. So now hours later im still full, and in no rush to have cassava bread again anytime soon. The though is nauseating, lets hope for veggies and potatoes tomorrow!
Today was an interesting day. July 4th is also Independence Day in Rwanda, so today, Monday, July 5th everything is closed. However, this was only communicated to half of the people throughout the country. When I spoke to my counterpart on Friday, the 2nd, it was clear that we were to meet on Monday, when I called him this morning to see what time he did not answer my call, no big deal, I show up at the “office” anyway. Only to find out that he is not there and others are only there because they did not know it was a holiday. It turns out “I returned on Wednesday” was heard as “I will return next Wednesday.” My mission to go to the bank and post office, well that did not happen because they were closed, there is always tomorrow. It worked out because some Peace Corps friends of mine came to town since the schools were closed, and they will have to come back again since they need to go to the bank as well. We went to the local buffet for lunch, but since the buffet was closed they were only serving chips (fries) and brochette, this sounded like a great option, until the brochettes came out and we found out that they were liver. Not exactly the part of the goat (I think goat) that I was expecting.
Just like in American it is good to leave a spear key to your house with a friend, the irony of the situation is that I gave my friend Charisa copies of all 3 of my keys since she sometimes uses my electricity during the week to charge her electronics because she doesn’t have electricity in her village and I am often out doing field work and am not around to let her in. Today we took the big step and I gave her my spare set. The ironic part is that when she got back to her village she called me looking to see if she left her key at my house because she couldn’t find it. Her neighbor was able to pry open the door and is she going to get new locks tomorrow and then going make sure someone has the spare set.
In the evening I went to my host family’s house. Here is the point of needing to know how to say “no thank you.” My host family is amazing, great people and wonderful to be around. And if I spend enough time there food usually appears. My host mother tells me to always ask the umucozis (house girls) for food if she is not home but im not comfortable asking. I have no complaints about Rwandan food either, a lot of starch-rice, bread, potatoes, but they also have vegetables and beans. The food is generally not prepared the way I would, but im not in any rush to do all my own cooking everyday, especially on a kerosene stove in a corner of my house. So today after hanging around with the kids for a few hours my host dad came come and told me they were having friends over. The friends came, we talked, I introduced myself, we drank tea, had peanuts, then I was about ready to go home. And out comes the cassava bread, I wish there was a polite way to say, “no thank you I am full”, because that just isn’t an excuse here. You can get out of anything by saying you have to wash your hair or do your laundry but when it comes to eating you have to eat it. Being ‘big’ is a sign of wealth, you can afford to eat, everyone here wants to fatten me up! Cassava bread is a similar consistency to uncooked pizza dough but grainier, they dip it in an oily sauce with a piece of fatty meat. It is not that I hate cassava bread, but it is not on the top of my list of Rwandan foods, so I dipped and ate and did the best I could, but there is a point when enough is enough. So now hours later im still full, and in no rush to have cassava bread again anytime soon. The though is nauseating, lets hope for veggies and potatoes tomorrow!
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Fanta Fiesata
During my training in Nyana a current volunteer mentioned that there is a lack of critical thinking and imagination in Rwanda. I notice it a little this on a daily basis and because of it I often ask questions that require an out of box thinking just to see what kind of answer I will get. Being a muzunugu I feel I can get away asking ridiculous questions on a regular basis, it is like being a child, why why why why, whats is this, what is it for, why is it here, etc…. Recently, on my last trip in Kigali, I noticed signs everywhere for the new flavor of Fanta, to me this is very normal, new flavors or beverages come out, you try it, if you like if you buy it again, if not then you stick with what you know. When I saw this new Fanta flavor in a local shop in town (my host mother has a shop in town so I go in there everyday on my way to work to talk to the girls that work there-who may or may not also live with my host family, still unclear) I asked a crazy out of the box question, “oh, what is this?” pointing to the new flavor of Fanta. “Oh- they made a mistake when bottling, it is just Coke in the wrong bottle.” Hmm…I know that is not the right answer. When at my host mothers house a few days later the same situation arises, my host mother has friends over and brings out a case of fantas, coke, and sprite, and in the case there it is, so again, I ask, “oh, what is this?” “It is sprite but dark- they made it a different color” Again, that is not right. Point, it takes a while for things to catch on, and any sort of change comes very slowly. Something important for me to remember in my daily activities here. And PS Fanta Fiesta takes like a meted snow cone, sweet but delicious!
Sunday, June 13, 2010
They toss babies around like footballs
Babies are everywhere here. The main goal in life here is to get married and have children, the idea of furthering your education and focusing on a career is emerging but still a foreign concept to many. Family planning is slowly happening, condoms are apparently readily available but because of religion and stigma many will not use, natural methods are known and slowly seem to be coming into practice. My host family has 4 children under the age of 6. They are amazing kids, well behaved and wonderful to be around. The youngest is 1 month and 12 days. She is adorable and always makes me smile. I sang my first baby lullaby the other day-my heart melted a little. When I first got to site the baby was handed to me, only a week old. I don’t know anything about babies but they just trusted me with it and everything was fine. I watch the way they just leave the baby on the couch somtimes, is this normal in America? Babies are generally kept on the back of the mother or house worker, which I told my host mother I want to learn, the just take igitnenge (fabric) and tie and tuck and they are back there securely. It actually makes sense, as long as it isn’t bad for their legs, the baby is safe and the mother has two hands to do whatever it is she needs. In general there are babies everywhere, as well as breast-feeding, and they are handled like footballs- picked up, put down, by the arm, whatever way it is, and they are always fine. After I master the baby on the back im going to learn to carry my belongings on my head, water, purse, goods from the market…yesterday a table was delivered to me with two chairs, means of transport, the man walked with it on his head!
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