This is a post I have been meaning to write for months. I find it fascinating that in many Latin American cultures where the machismo culture is infamous. Catcalls are a normal way of life for women. Women are assumed the weaker sex -but because of this, women are let on or off of buses first. Men step out of a woman's way when the sidewalk, hold open doors and are generally courteous- when they aren't whistling.
That doesn't happen in Rwanda. Women are never given the right of way or that preferential treatment. But they also aren't treated as equals. And despite the high percentage of women in parliament and the advance of women in general here, sexual harassment and rape are still prominent in work places.
To further illustrate my point, on Friday night I was at a local restaurant/bar/dance club watching the England match. After the dance party started and it was crazy. It was very crowded but very fun. The bar is popular with expats and rich Rwandese so it was a fun mix and I was having a great time.
About 2am I went to the restroom and the 3 stalls are down a little hall, first the men's and then the 2 ladies. As I passed the men's a Rwandese guy standing by the wall kissed me. So I hit him on the shoulder, hard.
He asked why I hit him an I said because he kissed me and doesn't know me. And if he did again, I said I'd break his jaw. Then he tried to deny kissing me. And told me he wouldn't have anyway because I am very ugly. All the while with a smirk on his face. I was furious.
About this time a girl and her 2 friends come out of a stall and she wants to know why I hit her cousin. So I told her and she wants to fight me. I ducked past the attendant into the other stall. I heard the girl then ask her cousin if he had and I think the response was she's American and was asking for it.
I was so mad and felt so violated. It seemed a perfect example of the typical attitude of many men here. She's a She. She's American. She really wants me. So disgusting.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Uganda - long overdue
I apologize that it has taken me so long to finish this. And actually to finish, I am afraid that parts will be stolen from various emails I wrote:
Jess and I then went to Jinja on Sunday. It's one of the "sources of the Nile." And we white water rafted. It was wonderful. Our guide was a New Zealander named Cam and he was definitely a bit crazy but it made the trip even more fun. Our group did quite well, and only tipped in one rapid - the rapid that everyone else took the calm way around. Which basically means we were the only "wild" trip that day.
We then went a bit farther north to Sipi Falls/Mt Elgon. After arriving though we decided to have an early dinner (by the way, full board is the best idea ever) and sleep. We slept for 11.5 hours and woke up at 8. Had breakfast and went hiking. I was definitely a bit worse for wear, but enjoyed the hike and did not faint. The falls were so beautiful. And we hiked through farms to see them, and coffee plantations! Pretty neat to finally see one of my favorite things growing. Our guide ground some freshley roasted for us, very few things have ever smelled so good to me!
We then went back to Kampala, partially because a couple we met rafting told us about a spa that we wanted to check out. For under $30 you could get a 1 hour full body massage, all day pool use, and lunch. We were so there. And it was really nice, a bit cloudy though. Then we went to the bookstore and grocery stores, saw another movie and continued to eat our way through foods that we tried to forget while in Kigali.
The highlight was heading back to the Chinese Restuarant: Our moto driver took us to the parking lot of the office building that Fang Fang is located in an office building. As we walked into the parking lot, we see a lot of flashing lights and aren't sure if it's an accident, if it's a motorcade, if it's a crime scene, if we should walk around the block to the front door... Well one of the police officers approached us, asked if we were going to the restaurant and then walked, past the motorcade, us up to the service entrance, where we waited for an elevator. The other bank opened first and about 8 Chinese men and women step out, obviously as confused by our presence as we are. As we try not to disappear into the wall, very hard in a narrow hallway, the elevator we are waiting for arrives. And there are another 8 Chinese nationals! Who are so polite, they try to let us in the elevator before the get out. I was trying so hard not to laugh at the ridiculousness of this obvious security breach and managed to only smile until the elevator door closed. I asked at the restaurant, it was the Chinese Ambassador and an official delegation visiting.
Next we were off to Queen Elizabeth National Park. The trip there was very long, we left the hotel at 6am and arrive at 3:30pm. So neither of us were in a very good mood. We arrived for what was supposed to be our 1 night splurge at the safari lodge (also full board) and almost immediately decided to add a second night. And a game drive. We already had the cheaper river cruise booked. The pool was so nice, it was one of those infinity pools that appear to end into the scenery? Well we saw an elephant drinking from the channel while we were in the pool, it was really cool. And apparently rare for rainy season.
The game drive was completely worth it - we saw lions!! well, 1 lion and 3 lionesses. And they aren't that easy to find, there were some people who had been there for 4 days and had yet to see one. So needless to say that I was really excited. They were far away but it was fun watching them, they are really just big cats. We also saw a baby elephant. It was so cute!!
We took our river cruise in the afternoon and saw.... a leopard!!! It was spotted and everything. =) and I know that sounds obvious but we were about 30 feet away, and it was incredible. We also saw baby hippos, which were really cute- especially when they wiggled their ears.
And for those who want to know about how we traveled, so here is my run down of our trip home which gives a good indication:
To leave the park we had to have a car pick us up ($15), about 30 minutes to the small town. We were going to wait for a Matatu (basically a small bus/15-passenger van, that usually has around 20 people in it) but it was going to be over an hour so the local motel was heading our way and offered us a lift in their van to Mbarara for $15, so we took that. 2 hour drive. They then dropped us at a gas station where we could catch a bus on the way from Kampala to Kigali. We then heard we probably wouldn't get on a bus until midnight (it was noon) so as we debated our options a man and his son stopped and offered us a lift halfway to the boarder, for $10. So we rode with them for about an hour and a half. They then got us on a crammed Matatu, where people kept complaining about the abuzungu (white people) taking up too much space, until Jess and I had a little fit which shut them up. (It involved some girl being sat on my lap as her seat, so I moved to the floor, and yeah...) Then we hired a car for $15 to take up the other 40 minutes to the boarder (it was about 20 the way he drove). We then walked across the boarder (immigration on both sides) and were looking for a bus to Kigali. It's now about 4pm, and raining. We ended up sharing a taxi with 2 other people, and when 10 minutes in the driver tries to cram another on the back seat, I told him that that was not ok. He said it was bc it was another driver, and I said he may be another driver but I am not paying my full fare if he is riding with us. So the guy got out. And that is how we finally got home. 11 hours later...
Jess and I then went to Jinja on Sunday. It's one of the "sources of the Nile." And we white water rafted. It was wonderful. Our guide was a New Zealander named Cam and he was definitely a bit crazy but it made the trip even more fun. Our group did quite well, and only tipped in one rapid - the rapid that everyone else took the calm way around. Which basically means we were the only "wild" trip that day.
We then went a bit farther north to Sipi Falls/Mt Elgon. After arriving though we decided to have an early dinner (by the way, full board is the best idea ever) and sleep. We slept for 11.5 hours and woke up at 8. Had breakfast and went hiking. I was definitely a bit worse for wear, but enjoyed the hike and did not faint. The falls were so beautiful. And we hiked through farms to see them, and coffee plantations! Pretty neat to finally see one of my favorite things growing. Our guide ground some freshley roasted for us, very few things have ever smelled so good to me!
We then went back to Kampala, partially because a couple we met rafting told us about a spa that we wanted to check out. For under $30 you could get a 1 hour full body massage, all day pool use, and lunch. We were so there. And it was really nice, a bit cloudy though. Then we went to the bookstore and grocery stores, saw another movie and continued to eat our way through foods that we tried to forget while in Kigali.
The highlight was heading back to the Chinese Restuarant: Our moto driver took us to the parking lot of the office building that Fang Fang is located in an office building. As we walked into the parking lot, we see a lot of flashing lights and aren't sure if it's an accident, if it's a motorcade, if it's a crime scene, if we should walk around the block to the front door... Well one of the police officers approached us, asked if we were going to the restaurant and then walked, past the motorcade, us up to the service entrance, where we waited for an elevator. The other bank opened first and about 8 Chinese men and women step out, obviously as confused by our presence as we are. As we try not to disappear into the wall, very hard in a narrow hallway, the elevator we are waiting for arrives. And there are another 8 Chinese nationals! Who are so polite, they try to let us in the elevator before the get out. I was trying so hard not to laugh at the ridiculousness of this obvious security breach and managed to only smile until the elevator door closed. I asked at the restaurant, it was the Chinese Ambassador and an official delegation visiting.
Next we were off to Queen Elizabeth National Park. The trip there was very long, we left the hotel at 6am and arrive at 3:30pm. So neither of us were in a very good mood. We arrived for what was supposed to be our 1 night splurge at the safari lodge (also full board) and almost immediately decided to add a second night. And a game drive. We already had the cheaper river cruise booked. The pool was so nice, it was one of those infinity pools that appear to end into the scenery? Well we saw an elephant drinking from the channel while we were in the pool, it was really cool. And apparently rare for rainy season.
The game drive was completely worth it - we saw lions!! well, 1 lion and 3 lionesses. And they aren't that easy to find, there were some people who had been there for 4 days and had yet to see one. So needless to say that I was really excited. They were far away but it was fun watching them, they are really just big cats. We also saw a baby elephant. It was so cute!!
We took our river cruise in the afternoon and saw.... a leopard!!! It was spotted and everything. =) and I know that sounds obvious but we were about 30 feet away, and it was incredible. We also saw baby hippos, which were really cute- especially when they wiggled their ears.
And for those who want to know about how we traveled, so here is my run down of our trip home which gives a good indication:
To leave the park we had to have a car pick us up ($15), about 30 minutes to the small town. We were going to wait for a Matatu (basically a small bus/15-passenger van, that usually has around 20 people in it) but it was going to be over an hour so the local motel was heading our way and offered us a lift in their van to Mbarara for $15, so we took that. 2 hour drive. They then dropped us at a gas station where we could catch a bus on the way from Kampala to Kigali. We then heard we probably wouldn't get on a bus until midnight (it was noon) so as we debated our options a man and his son stopped and offered us a lift halfway to the boarder, for $10. So we rode with them for about an hour and a half. They then got us on a crammed Matatu, where people kept complaining about the abuzungu (white people) taking up too much space, until Jess and I had a little fit which shut them up. (It involved some girl being sat on my lap as her seat, so I moved to the floor, and yeah...) Then we hired a car for $15 to take up the other 40 minutes to the boarder (it was about 20 the way he drove). We then walked across the boarder (immigration on both sides) and were looking for a bus to Kigali. It's now about 4pm, and raining. We ended up sharing a taxi with 2 other people, and when 10 minutes in the driver tries to cram another on the back seat, I told him that that was not ok. He said it was bc it was another driver, and I said he may be another driver but I am not paying my full fare if he is riding with us. So the guy got out. And that is how we finally got home. 11 hours later...
Friday, April 30, 2010
Whisper words of wisdom
As I write this to be posted later I am sighting in Pasquel's car, with his friend Pasquel. I did not know these men an hour ago.
(the rest was written 8 days later)
I was waiting at the end of the road for a bus and none was coming. When this car slowed a fellow teacher asked them to give me a ride to Gitarama.
There were 2 men in the car, and a second teacher I know hopped in as well. We had a pleasant drive the 15 minutes into town, conversation mostly consisting of how I don't speak kinyarwanda.
The teacher was dropped and the driver and the Pasquels said they were going to Kigali and if I wanted a ride that far, I could have it, but they had to stop for a quick errand. Since I had seen my 3rd bad bus accident that morning, and thinking Rwanda is one of the most densely populated countries on earth, I said 'that would be great.'
As they ran their errand, I waited in the car and wondered if this was such a good idea. The Hotel California came on the stereo, and sin e it was in English and always makes me think of my cousin, I decided it was a sign that things were going to be fine. (when I told my mother later, she questioned this logic). The next song, the three of us were driving at this point, proved my sign: Imagine. And as I sung along and wondered at the words and if those dreamers had had their wish sooner and 'the world was one' maybe 1994 wouldn't have happened, a voice from the front seat joined in the singing as well.
Followed by Let it Be. I think John Lennon was smiling somewhere over how his music could bring people together...
shine until tomorrow; let it be.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
(the rest was written 8 days later)
I was waiting at the end of the road for a bus and none was coming. When this car slowed a fellow teacher asked them to give me a ride to Gitarama.
There were 2 men in the car, and a second teacher I know hopped in as well. We had a pleasant drive the 15 minutes into town, conversation mostly consisting of how I don't speak kinyarwanda.
The teacher was dropped and the driver and the Pasquels said they were going to Kigali and if I wanted a ride that far, I could have it, but they had to stop for a quick errand. Since I had seen my 3rd bad bus accident that morning, and thinking Rwanda is one of the most densely populated countries on earth, I said 'that would be great.'
As they ran their errand, I waited in the car and wondered if this was such a good idea. The Hotel California came on the stereo, and sin e it was in English and always makes me think of my cousin, I decided it was a sign that things were going to be fine. (when I told my mother later, she questioned this logic). The next song, the three of us were driving at this point, proved my sign: Imagine. And as I sung along and wondered at the words and if those dreamers had had their wish sooner and 'the world was one' maybe 1994 wouldn't have happened, a voice from the front seat joined in the singing as well.
Followed by Let it Be. I think John Lennon was smiling somewhere over how his music could bring people together...
shine until tomorrow; let it be.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
UA- part 2 Kampala
Kampala is everything Kigali is not: big, loud, varied, and dirty. There are chain restaurants, Nandos. And reasonably priced bookstores. There is an almost current movie theater. There is so much food!
So upon arrival we cleaned up and went out to eat Chinese. It was quite possibly the best Chinese I have ever had. Then Jess and I, unable to resist temptation, went to a movie. Which was not as good, but still an experience.
To get to the movie from chinese food we took a boda-boda, which is a moto. But in Uganda you can have 2 passengers! Slows it down.
So Friday we enjoyed an Americanized day. Fast food lunch at nandos. Another movie, this time with Kerry and Theo. And then time wandering around the bookstore. Dinner Friday was at a delicious grill where I was able to have schnitzel, and it was pretty good schnitzel. Then we went to a club called Iguana. Mostly travelers, but definitely fun.
Saturday we left Kampala for the day. Jess and I had heard that the Speke Resort had stables and for under $30 you could ride for an hour around Lake Victoria. Theo had never ridden before but Kerry an Jess both had experience.
When we went to the stables to ride, they asked about how much we had ridden. So they were nervous about us ridding but I managed to convince everyone it would be fine.
When they lined up the horses, I was in the back. And they gave me a fiesty horse- Merhdad. Merhdad would kick, so I had to stay behind. Also so we didn't lose any straggelers. Well we didn't really ride along the lake, we mostly rode through little towns.
I have rarely felt so priviliged. But people were friendly when we waved and said hello. I really enjoyed it. I think my horse and I would have enjoyed ourselves more if we could have gone faster, but I did manage to keep him in control.
The rest of the day was spent by an olympic size pool. Since it was off season, it was quiet but very nice. An interesting glimpse into how the other half lives- ok so 2% lives...
So upon arrival we cleaned up and went out to eat Chinese. It was quite possibly the best Chinese I have ever had. Then Jess and I, unable to resist temptation, went to a movie. Which was not as good, but still an experience.
To get to the movie from chinese food we took a boda-boda, which is a moto. But in Uganda you can have 2 passengers! Slows it down.
So Friday we enjoyed an Americanized day. Fast food lunch at nandos. Another movie, this time with Kerry and Theo. And then time wandering around the bookstore. Dinner Friday was at a delicious grill where I was able to have schnitzel, and it was pretty good schnitzel. Then we went to a club called Iguana. Mostly travelers, but definitely fun.
Saturday we left Kampala for the day. Jess and I had heard that the Speke Resort had stables and for under $30 you could ride for an hour around Lake Victoria. Theo had never ridden before but Kerry an Jess both had experience.
When we went to the stables to ride, they asked about how much we had ridden. So they were nervous about us ridding but I managed to convince everyone it would be fine.
When they lined up the horses, I was in the back. And they gave me a fiesty horse- Merhdad. Merhdad would kick, so I had to stay behind. Also so we didn't lose any straggelers. Well we didn't really ride along the lake, we mostly rode through little towns.
I have rarely felt so priviliged. But people were friendly when we waved and said hello. I really enjoyed it. I think my horse and I would have enjoyed ourselves more if we could have gone faster, but I did manage to keep him in control.
The rest of the day was spent by an olympic size pool. Since it was off season, it was quiet but very nice. An interesting glimpse into how the other half lives- ok so 2% lives...
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
End the Silence
A couple of weeks ago Jess invited me to a march. It was to raise awareness and end the taboo on talking about menstraution. Especially for school age girls.
Many girls in developing countries miss school when on their period. This is most often because of a lack of access to sanitary pads or facilities to change them while at school. Because of missing school 3 or 4 or more days a month, many girls drop out and do not finish secondary education.
So we joined about 150 people, school girls and some school boys, teachers both male and female, and other various people- mostly Rwandan- to march in bright red shirts through the city.
It was a succesful day.
When we left the rally at the end I was still wearing my bright shirt with kinyrwanda writing that said something about ending the silence on menstraution. We walked into a pharmacy and the pharmacist asked what it was about so we explained. He was surprised girls miss school so often and asked his assistant if she ever had. Her response: of course. His look of surprise was even greater.
Nice the we brought awareness to at least one person.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Many girls in developing countries miss school when on their period. This is most often because of a lack of access to sanitary pads or facilities to change them while at school. Because of missing school 3 or 4 or more days a month, many girls drop out and do not finish secondary education.
So we joined about 150 people, school girls and some school boys, teachers both male and female, and other various people- mostly Rwandan- to march in bright red shirts through the city.
It was a succesful day.
When we left the rally at the end I was still wearing my bright shirt with kinyrwanda writing that said something about ending the silence on menstraution. We walked into a pharmacy and the pharmacist asked what it was about so we explained. He was surprised girls miss school so often and asked his assistant if she ever had. Her response: of course. His look of surprise was even greater.
Nice the we brought awareness to at least one person.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Ugandan Adventures- part 1
There is a 2 week holiday in Rwanda to coincide with the Genocide Memorial week. And being outsiders, many expats choose to leave the country and not intrude on the national mourning. We joined this group.
On Thursday, the day following the Candlelight Vigil, we woke up at 5:00am to catch a bus to Kampala. The ride started uneventful- Kerry and Theo together and I had the window behind Jessica. About 3hours in, while I was sleeping a woman and her baby sat next to me.
As I continued to sleep for the next 2 hours, the almost perpetual breast feeding did not bother me. What did both me was when the mother changed the baby's diaper or rather just removed the diaper as the was not replacement. The removed diaper was hen folded and placed between us.
Disgusting? Yes. But not nearly as bad as when the baby had to relieve herself again, and did, on her mothers lap. It got better- the mother than started throwing up. And as Jess was awake in front of me that becam my cue to move to he row ahead.
We did arrive safely in Kampala, and other than my seat partner the 2 most interesting parts were when we drove into Uganda we switched from drivig on the right side to the left. And the second was crossing the equator.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
On Thursday, the day following the Candlelight Vigil, we woke up at 5:00am to catch a bus to Kampala. The ride started uneventful- Kerry and Theo together and I had the window behind Jessica. About 3hours in, while I was sleeping a woman and her baby sat next to me.
As I continued to sleep for the next 2 hours, the almost perpetual breast feeding did not bother me. What did both me was when the mother changed the baby's diaper or rather just removed the diaper as the was not replacement. The removed diaper was hen folded and placed between us.
Disgusting? Yes. But not nearly as bad as when the baby had to relieve herself again, and did, on her mothers lap. It got better- the mother than started throwing up. And as Jess was awake in front of me that becam my cue to move to he row ahead.
We did arrive safely in Kampala, and other than my seat partner the 2 most interesting parts were when we drove into Uganda we switched from drivig on the right side to the left. And the second was crossing the equator.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
16 years ago... where were you?
I was in 3rd grade. The O.J Simpson trial and the Tanya Harding scandal dominated the news. And those 2 events I remember very clearly. It wasn't until 10 years that I realized what else had happened...
From my window I can see the airport where the president's plane did not land. I can see the stadium where Tutsi's waited in fear, because although it was the UN headquarters, they knew the UN wouldn't save them. I can walk to the Kicukiro College of Technology where the UN left, and as they left the 3,000 people who had taken refuge there were slaughtered. In 100 days, 800,000 people were brutally killed, not in a madness that suddenly overtook a country, but in a perfectly planned genocide.
I remember the nightmares I got when I was writing my thesis, and I knew at the time they were nothing compared to the nightmare lived and relived by millions of people. I think that was why I felt most inadequate.
I have learned to hate the phrase "never again." Because, quite frankly, it's bullshit. People said it after the Holocaust, and Serbia and Rwanda and Cambodia and even Iraq happened. People repeated the phrase, but look at Sudan, and Congo.
Being born into Western culture is a privilege. We have relatively corruption free elections, heck, we can even not vote if we want. We have free speech. Colleges now have a higher percentage of women in attendance than men. I can go out to eat every day. I can drive a car, on (almost) pot-hole free roads. I can assume buses won't tip over a cliff. I can buy a tv, and I can watch more than one station repeated on 33 channels. I can wear a bikini on the street if I wanted. I can swear at the top of my voice in a mall if I wanted. I can go to a mall. I can curse our president in public. I can start a political party. I can call my congressman and senators and tell them what matters to me. And if they don't listen, I can vote against them. Ice cream is a privilege. Eating meat, or choosing to be a vegetarian, is a privilege. Eating food from your neighbor, and not wondering if it was poisoned, is a privilege.
But despite this privilege, or because of it, I do not have the right to be ignorant. I do not get to ignore the fact that almost half the world — over three billion people — live on less than $2.50 a day. I do not get to ignore trafficking. I do not get to ignore slavery. Or oppression. Or mass rapes. I do not get to ignore genocide.
Part of me wants you to feel guilty. And I'm sure a part of you, if you are still reading, is mad at me. How dare I assume that your life is easy? I don't. I know life is hard. But with great power comes great responsibility.
A friend of mine lost her grandmother this week. And I am so sorry for her loss, because it is a great loss, and I don't discount that. I just ask you to remember Rwanda, who lost a tenth of her population 16 years ago. Everyone of those 800,000 victims were someones Mother. Father. Sister. Brother. Child. Lover. Friend. Neighbor. Grandparent. Godparent. And they didn't just die, they were brutally murdered by their neighbors. I know Americans are more likely to respond to a single person's grief than an entire country's, but think about it today. Consider how fortunate you are and be grateful. Be grateful that you can't even imagine the horror that was here.
I know that I can't imagine what happened. I know I can't imagine the grief still felt. I know that no matter what I do, I can't make it go away or somehow better. All I can do is grade my papers, and go to the vigil tomorrow and lamely say "never again"...
From my window I can see the airport where the president's plane did not land. I can see the stadium where Tutsi's waited in fear, because although it was the UN headquarters, they knew the UN wouldn't save them. I can walk to the Kicukiro College of Technology where the UN left, and as they left the 3,000 people who had taken refuge there were slaughtered. In 100 days, 800,000 people were brutally killed, not in a madness that suddenly overtook a country, but in a perfectly planned genocide.
I remember the nightmares I got when I was writing my thesis, and I knew at the time they were nothing compared to the nightmare lived and relived by millions of people. I think that was why I felt most inadequate.
I have learned to hate the phrase "never again." Because, quite frankly, it's bullshit. People said it after the Holocaust, and Serbia and Rwanda and Cambodia and even Iraq happened. People repeated the phrase, but look at Sudan, and Congo.
Being born into Western culture is a privilege. We have relatively corruption free elections, heck, we can even not vote if we want. We have free speech. Colleges now have a higher percentage of women in attendance than men. I can go out to eat every day. I can drive a car, on (almost) pot-hole free roads. I can assume buses won't tip over a cliff. I can buy a tv, and I can watch more than one station repeated on 33 channels. I can wear a bikini on the street if I wanted. I can swear at the top of my voice in a mall if I wanted. I can go to a mall. I can curse our president in public. I can start a political party. I can call my congressman and senators and tell them what matters to me. And if they don't listen, I can vote against them. Ice cream is a privilege. Eating meat, or choosing to be a vegetarian, is a privilege. Eating food from your neighbor, and not wondering if it was poisoned, is a privilege.
But despite this privilege, or because of it, I do not have the right to be ignorant. I do not get to ignore the fact that almost half the world — over three billion people — live on less than $2.50 a day. I do not get to ignore trafficking. I do not get to ignore slavery. Or oppression. Or mass rapes. I do not get to ignore genocide.
Part of me wants you to feel guilty. And I'm sure a part of you, if you are still reading, is mad at me. How dare I assume that your life is easy? I don't. I know life is hard. But with great power comes great responsibility.
A friend of mine lost her grandmother this week. And I am so sorry for her loss, because it is a great loss, and I don't discount that. I just ask you to remember Rwanda, who lost a tenth of her population 16 years ago. Everyone of those 800,000 victims were someones Mother. Father. Sister. Brother. Child. Lover. Friend. Neighbor. Grandparent. Godparent. And they didn't just die, they were brutally murdered by their neighbors. I know Americans are more likely to respond to a single person's grief than an entire country's, but think about it today. Consider how fortunate you are and be grateful. Be grateful that you can't even imagine the horror that was here.
I know that I can't imagine what happened. I know I can't imagine the grief still felt. I know that no matter what I do, I can't make it go away or somehow better. All I can do is grade my papers, and go to the vigil tomorrow and lamely say "never again"...
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Movies in Kigali
Last week, Kerry and I went to dinner with her long-time and my new friend, Louise. Louise is a year older than us, and since she has been working for the Rwandan Government for 3 years, generally considered a "wealth of information."
So we took advantage of the opportunity. What restaurants are worth going to? Kerry had only been to a few as she lived in Nyamata last year, and I had only been to a few, because well, I am still new. So after the rundown, Louise mentioned something else. The movie theater, CineStar. As most of you know, I am a huge movie fan. So finding out there was a real theater? Well, I had to check it out.
Originally we were going to go with Louise and numerous other friends and change the movie that was being shown with one of my DVDs (I brought all my movie DVDs (left the tv shows) in my carryon). But as Louise had conflicting plans Kerry and I and 2 other friends decided to brave the scheduled movie. It was terrible.
Breaking Point, starring Busta Rhymes. I remember him as the older brother in Finding Forrester. So I thought it was worth a shot. Well about 4 minutes into the move a woman gets her throat slit while her baby is thrown out a window by BR. None of the characters evoked any sympathy. None could deliver their terrible written lines to salvage the terrible plot. In fact, I am fairly confident that the cast took voice lessons from William Shatner.
The bright side? A real movie theater. With popcorn. And the movie took place in NYC so I had a lot of shots of Harlem and Times Square to make me miss my last 'home'.
Interestingly enough, our Rwandan friend (We were 3 Americans and 1 Rwandan) thought it was a great movie and really enjoyed all the action. So at least it wasn't a total bust, and under $3 for a Friday Night movie? I'll go again.
So we took advantage of the opportunity. What restaurants are worth going to? Kerry had only been to a few as she lived in Nyamata last year, and I had only been to a few, because well, I am still new. So after the rundown, Louise mentioned something else. The movie theater, CineStar. As most of you know, I am a huge movie fan. So finding out there was a real theater? Well, I had to check it out.
Originally we were going to go with Louise and numerous other friends and change the movie that was being shown with one of my DVDs (I brought all my movie DVDs (left the tv shows) in my carryon). But as Louise had conflicting plans Kerry and I and 2 other friends decided to brave the scheduled movie. It was terrible.
Breaking Point, starring Busta Rhymes. I remember him as the older brother in Finding Forrester. So I thought it was worth a shot. Well about 4 minutes into the move a woman gets her throat slit while her baby is thrown out a window by BR. None of the characters evoked any sympathy. None could deliver their terrible written lines to salvage the terrible plot. In fact, I am fairly confident that the cast took voice lessons from William Shatner.
The bright side? A real movie theater. With popcorn. And the movie took place in NYC so I had a lot of shots of Harlem and Times Square to make me miss my last 'home'.
Interestingly enough, our Rwandan friend (We were 3 Americans and 1 Rwandan) thought it was a great movie and really enjoyed all the action. So at least it wasn't a total bust, and under $3 for a Friday Night movie? I'll go again.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Scrub a dub dub
Well following tonights after dinner conversation, I decided this was an important issue to discuss- showering.
In Rwanda it is uncommon to have a shower with a curtain let alone a tub. What you have is a shower, another faucet around 4' up and this is just on the wall of the bathroom. There is also a drain and a bit of a linoleum area to stand that theoretically stops the water from getting everywhere- and like so many theories just fails.
Our compound has limited hot water. 3 rooms are hooked up, sometimes. (1 of those actually only has a tub.)And the other 4 are not. We are incredibly lucky and have hot water in the kitchen.
My room is not one with hot water. So at first I walked up to the spare room and used that shower. But then the preassure became nonexistent. I still used the faucet up there because my cold water preassure is also pretty poor. Then the hot water disappeared in everywhere but the kitchen.
So I started taking bucket baths. It felt like camping. I would boil water, fill up my bucket half way, carry it back and then add my faucet water to make it a good temperature and a good amount of water.
Kerry was doind the same thing for a while and then one night she realized the boiling step was unnecessary- there's hot water in the sink. So that became the preferred method of filling our buckets.
Well at dinner Jess announced her hot water had come back and with great preassure. So we discussed our preffered methods. I like the bucket- it's hot and I can get clean & warm. Kerry has good cold water preassure so she prefers to be clean and doesn't mind the cold. Jess has the hot shower.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
In Rwanda it is uncommon to have a shower with a curtain let alone a tub. What you have is a shower, another faucet around 4' up and this is just on the wall of the bathroom. There is also a drain and a bit of a linoleum area to stand that theoretically stops the water from getting everywhere- and like so many theories just fails.
Our compound has limited hot water. 3 rooms are hooked up, sometimes. (1 of those actually only has a tub.)And the other 4 are not. We are incredibly lucky and have hot water in the kitchen.
My room is not one with hot water. So at first I walked up to the spare room and used that shower. But then the preassure became nonexistent. I still used the faucet up there because my cold water preassure is also pretty poor. Then the hot water disappeared in everywhere but the kitchen.
So I started taking bucket baths. It felt like camping. I would boil water, fill up my bucket half way, carry it back and then add my faucet water to make it a good temperature and a good amount of water.
Kerry was doind the same thing for a while and then one night she realized the boiling step was unnecessary- there's hot water in the sink. So that became the preferred method of filling our buckets.
Well at dinner Jess announced her hot water had come back and with great preassure. So we discussed our preffered methods. I like the bucket- it's hot and I can get clean & warm. Kerry has good cold water preassure so she prefers to be clean and doesn't mind the cold. Jess has the hot shower.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Small Victories
As I have mentioned, I am co-teaching General Paper. And for the past 2 weeks, inspired by International Women's Day, we have been discussing gender equality.
Let me just say, it gives me a much larger appreciation for the women's movement in the US. In fact after our first day of discussions I turned to Kerry and said "I'm a feminist. Who knew?"
The reason is becuase many of these senior boys think girls are naturally inferior to boys. That they are weaker mentally and physically. That they are not as capable. That pregnency is equivalent to a sickness. And that men are and should be the head of household.
Well... How does one approach this? Especially when a lot of the aggression comes from the new policy that girls are eligible for a national scholarship with lower test scores than boys.
So I think I did a good job talking about affirmative action. And why it happens. Includig drawing a diagram of a slanted soccer feild and demonstrating 'leveling the playing field.' I think it was the best way to demonstrate how giving the girls help isn't saying the boys should digress. I think it helped.
I also got really good in talking about 'natural apptitude' and how girls are not given less than boys. People are less smart than other people and gender is irrelevant in determining intelligence.
So I am embracing my feminist roots and learning what it's like to advocate for my own minority group.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Let me just say, it gives me a much larger appreciation for the women's movement in the US. In fact after our first day of discussions I turned to Kerry and said "I'm a feminist. Who knew?"
The reason is becuase many of these senior boys think girls are naturally inferior to boys. That they are weaker mentally and physically. That they are not as capable. That pregnency is equivalent to a sickness. And that men are and should be the head of household.
Well... How does one approach this? Especially when a lot of the aggression comes from the new policy that girls are eligible for a national scholarship with lower test scores than boys.
So I think I did a good job talking about affirmative action. And why it happens. Includig drawing a diagram of a slanted soccer feild and demonstrating 'leveling the playing field.' I think it was the best way to demonstrate how giving the girls help isn't saying the boys should digress. I think it helped.
I also got really good in talking about 'natural apptitude' and how girls are not given less than boys. People are less smart than other people and gender is irrelevant in determining intelligence.
So I am embracing my feminist roots and learning what it's like to advocate for my own minority group.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Sunny Days...
Sweeping the clouds away, on my way to where the air is sweet, can you tell me how to get, how to get to sesame street? It's magic carpet ride, every door will open wide to happy people like (what beatiful) happy people like you ; what a beautiful Sunny Days...
Sitting at Heaven which is an American run restaurant. Waiting for the rest of our party, and refusing to be frustrated. But it is a gorgeous day. And after weeks of rainy days the past few warm and sunny days have been a welcome relief.
I got a terrible sunburn on Tuesday. Which blistered yesterday. And then the blisters started itching today. It's gross and I have been wearing my REI sunblock shirts to protect my back.
I apologise for the mundane, not really saying anything, blog entry. But that's all the news from Lake Wobegon.
Sitting at Heaven which is an American run restaurant. Waiting for the rest of our party, and refusing to be frustrated. But it is a gorgeous day. And after weeks of rainy days the past few warm and sunny days have been a welcome relief.
I got a terrible sunburn on Tuesday. Which blistered yesterday. And then the blisters started itching today. It's gross and I have been wearing my REI sunblock shirts to protect my back.
I apologise for the mundane, not really saying anything, blog entry. But that's all the news from Lake Wobegon.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
The Bolsheviks were good for something
March 8th is International Women's Day. And, as it is a national holiday in Rwanda, like many parts of the world, Kerry and I decided to teach our lesson this week about gender roles and gender equality.
And being the History major who likes too many details that I am, I did some background reading about the say, only to find out- it's a socialist holiday! woot!
The idea for a "Women's Day" was first publicly suggested in 1909 by the Socialist Party of America. In 1910, at the first International Women's Conference in Copenhagen, it was made an internationally recognized day, with no set date. It was to promote a better social standing for women, better working conditions, and recognize accomplishments.
In 1911 over 1 million people recognized the day on 19 March. On 25 March, that same year was the infamous Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire that killed 140 workers, all women. So International Women's Day was also used to remember these women.
In 1913 the day changed to 8 March when many women in Europe and North America used the day to protest for peace, against WWI. It stayed popular through the 1920s and then dwindled...
And then! in 1965 the Soviet Union made it an official state holiday, to be recognized like all others (ie no work) in recognition of the contributions of women to the Bolshevik Revolution.
It wasn't until 1975 that the UN recognized the day, when they designated that year as "International Women's Year." Now the day is used to recognize the contributions of women, promote women's issues: this year the red cross brought attention to the additional dangers and difficulties faced by women who are displaced by war and violence, especially those living in refugee camps.
And it is recognized as a national holiday in over 65 countries.
And being the History major who likes too many details that I am, I did some background reading about the say, only to find out- it's a socialist holiday! woot!
The idea for a "Women's Day" was first publicly suggested in 1909 by the Socialist Party of America. In 1910, at the first International Women's Conference in Copenhagen, it was made an internationally recognized day, with no set date. It was to promote a better social standing for women, better working conditions, and recognize accomplishments.
In 1911 over 1 million people recognized the day on 19 March. On 25 March, that same year was the infamous Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire that killed 140 workers, all women. So International Women's Day was also used to remember these women.
In 1913 the day changed to 8 March when many women in Europe and North America used the day to protest for peace, against WWI. It stayed popular through the 1920s and then dwindled...
And then! in 1965 the Soviet Union made it an official state holiday, to be recognized like all others (ie no work) in recognition of the contributions of women to the Bolshevik Revolution.
It wasn't until 1975 that the UN recognized the day, when they designated that year as "International Women's Year." Now the day is used to recognize the contributions of women, promote women's issues: this year the red cross brought attention to the additional dangers and difficulties faced by women who are displaced by war and violence, especially those living in refugee camps.
And it is recognized as a national holiday in over 65 countries.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Cooking Continues...
Tonight Jess and I decided we wanted pasta. We also were both mutually sick of tomatoes, since they are a staple ingredient in most meals. So I got creative upon seeing an egg in the fridge - Carbonara! And as I looked around, I had all the ingredients...
Recipe - Rwanda Version
Pasta - Pasta
Butter - Butter (barn flavor)
Cream - Milk (boxed, barn flavor)
Bacon - Onions
1 Egg + extra egg yoke - 1 egg
Grated Parmesan Cheese - Grated Rwanda Cheese (something between gouda and cheddar)
Paprika - Seasoning Salt that contains paprika
It was delicious and tasted (almost) American. =)
Recipe - Rwanda Version
Pasta - Pasta
Butter - Butter (barn flavor)
Cream - Milk (boxed, barn flavor)
Bacon - Onions
1 Egg + extra egg yoke - 1 egg
Grated Parmesan Cheese - Grated Rwanda Cheese (something between gouda and cheddar)
Paprika - Seasoning Salt that contains paprika
It was delicious and tasted (almost) American. =)
1 Month Later...
Can you believe I have been in Rwanda for a month? It seems like I just got here and I have been here forever, so i guess that would be about a month.
Homesickness usually sets in about this time, I've heard. It feels like so long that you've been here, the vacation feeling has worn off, and you are still here for another 9 months. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change what I'm doing but the novelty has worn off.
This week made it especially hard to be so far away. And while I don't need to go into that here, let's just say it's a challenge 'being there' for friends when you are 9,010 miles away. So that has lead me to create the list of:
THINGS I AM MOST HAPPY I PACKED:
1. Teddy. Teddy is and was called 'my little brown teddy bear' until I was 14, when he was given a real name of Teddy. He was given to me for my Christmas- 'a little teddy bear, for a little Rachel'. And has traveled with me on most adventures. Always in carry on lugage, so if something were to happen, he would be safe with me.
2. Lamby. Lamby is my stuffed lamb, about the same size as Teddy. Lamby came from Williamsburg and was given to me by my mother about 4 years ago because my name means 'little lamb'. Lamby has the same travel requirements as Teddy, and has already been to Europe.
3. My Linus Blanket. This December, when Mum unpacked the 'Charlie Brown Christmas Tree' that she got last year, complete with a single red ball ornament, I once again lamented not getting the Linus blanket when I saw it. It was so soft, and as a JV I just looked for an excuse to get it, but not knowing about the CBCT I didn't have it. 2 days before I left for Boston for my interview with Maranyundo, Dad gave me a Linus Blanket. It's so soft, and compact. And it is perfect when I am a little blue.
4. Chocolate. Philip introduced me to Sharffen Berger chocolate this winter, and wow. So I brought 6 bars with me. Have already eaten 3. But it is a much needed comfort food when candy bars are rather on the spendy side.
5. 50 pictures. I printed out about 50 pictures at walmart the day before I left, and within the first 48 hours they were put up. Friends, Family, My car, My cat, and the Sunset from Vonnie and Bob's... all familiar sites, and smiling faces so I can remember just how lucky I am to have such supportive people in my life.
Homesickness usually sets in about this time, I've heard. It feels like so long that you've been here, the vacation feeling has worn off, and you are still here for another 9 months. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change what I'm doing but the novelty has worn off.
This week made it especially hard to be so far away. And while I don't need to go into that here, let's just say it's a challenge 'being there' for friends when you are 9,010 miles away. So that has lead me to create the list of:
THINGS I AM MOST HAPPY I PACKED:
1. Teddy. Teddy is and was called 'my little brown teddy bear' until I was 14, when he was given a real name of Teddy. He was given to me for my Christmas- 'a little teddy bear, for a little Rachel'. And has traveled with me on most adventures. Always in carry on lugage, so if something were to happen, he would be safe with me.
2. Lamby. Lamby is my stuffed lamb, about the same size as Teddy. Lamby came from Williamsburg and was given to me by my mother about 4 years ago because my name means 'little lamb'. Lamby has the same travel requirements as Teddy, and has already been to Europe.
3. My Linus Blanket. This December, when Mum unpacked the 'Charlie Brown Christmas Tree' that she got last year, complete with a single red ball ornament, I once again lamented not getting the Linus blanket when I saw it. It was so soft, and as a JV I just looked for an excuse to get it, but not knowing about the CBCT I didn't have it. 2 days before I left for Boston for my interview with Maranyundo, Dad gave me a Linus Blanket. It's so soft, and compact. And it is perfect when I am a little blue.
4. Chocolate. Philip introduced me to Sharffen Berger chocolate this winter, and wow. So I brought 6 bars with me. Have already eaten 3. But it is a much needed comfort food when candy bars are rather on the spendy side.
5. 50 pictures. I printed out about 50 pictures at walmart the day before I left, and within the first 48 hours they were put up. Friends, Family, My car, My cat, and the Sunset from Vonnie and Bob's... all familiar sites, and smiling faces so I can remember just how lucky I am to have such supportive people in my life.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Baking Cakes in Kigali- There's an app for that
On Saturday we had our first house party. About 20 people were invited and 12 showed up, so it was a good mix. We had 2 cases of beer, a 5 liter box of wine, juice for those who don't drink, and food.
We wanted to make American foods for our guests. So I said I would bake cupcakes. It seemed like a basic and easy thing to offer. But, as Kerry said later, "Why is everything harder in Africa? You put in 3 times the effort and only get half the result!" At that point, I whole heartedly agreed.
Let's first acknowledge the two things I did right. The first was that over a month ago I downloaded an app for my ipod that converts basically anything to anything. And the second, was I left the butter out over night so it was at room temperature.
So Saturday afternoon came, and I started. We did not have vanilla, and since both the milk and the butter have what can only be described as "an animal" flavor, I used almond extract to mask it. The sugar was only sugar in the raw, and I had icing sugar for my icing. The flour was opened, and discovered to be yellow. I think it's corn based, but it's my only option so I continue.
I now realize that I need to measure out my ingredients... and that we have no measuring cups. So as I'm guessing "Is this mug a cup or 3/4 cups?" I remember that we do have a teaspoon measurer in our sugar bowl! So I get my ipod and convert- 1 and half cups of flour = 72 tsps. I also was fortunate to have the weight of the butter, 125grams needed, I have a block of 500 grams, so 1/4 of the block.
My next obstacle was that we don't have a mixer. We have a hand blender, which I gallantly tried, but after 5 seconds it started smoking so I gave up. And used a whisk.
Well my corn-muffin like cupcakes turned out alright. And my green icing was delicious. So all in all, a success. But not one of my more delicious cakes. I look forward to investigating further flour options this week...
We wanted to make American foods for our guests. So I said I would bake cupcakes. It seemed like a basic and easy thing to offer. But, as Kerry said later, "Why is everything harder in Africa? You put in 3 times the effort and only get half the result!" At that point, I whole heartedly agreed.
Let's first acknowledge the two things I did right. The first was that over a month ago I downloaded an app for my ipod that converts basically anything to anything. And the second, was I left the butter out over night so it was at room temperature.
So Saturday afternoon came, and I started. We did not have vanilla, and since both the milk and the butter have what can only be described as "an animal" flavor, I used almond extract to mask it. The sugar was only sugar in the raw, and I had icing sugar for my icing. The flour was opened, and discovered to be yellow. I think it's corn based, but it's my only option so I continue.
I now realize that I need to measure out my ingredients... and that we have no measuring cups. So as I'm guessing "Is this mug a cup or 3/4 cups?" I remember that we do have a teaspoon measurer in our sugar bowl! So I get my ipod and convert- 1 and half cups of flour = 72 tsps. I also was fortunate to have the weight of the butter, 125grams needed, I have a block of 500 grams, so 1/4 of the block.
My next obstacle was that we don't have a mixer. We have a hand blender, which I gallantly tried, but after 5 seconds it started smoking so I gave up. And used a whisk.
Well my corn-muffin like cupcakes turned out alright. And my green icing was delicious. So all in all, a success. But not one of my more delicious cakes. I look forward to investigating further flour options this week...
Sunday, February 28, 2010
General Papers
Kerry and I are teaching “General Papers” to “Senior 6” which is equivalent to seniors in an American High School. General Papers is a new course in the past couple of years, and is to teach student how to critically think for the national exam. It’s almost like a Theory of Knowledge (IB) class, or teaches to the new essay portion of the SATs. The topics can range from politics to science, religion to AIDS, local Rwandan issues to world events. It’s a fun class to teach. This is the first year it has been in English and that the National Exam will only be offered in English. Obviously, for students who have only studied in French until this point, it is a bit daunting.
To get to know our students better, Kerry and I did a very American thing. We passed out small pieces of paper and asked each student to write their name, interests and career aspirations on them. Many of the interests listed echoed the fact that these students are some of the best in the country ,attending one of the best schools for science; Physics, Chemistry, and Maths were all listed. The jobs also followed this, with many students wanting to be engineers, medical doctors, politicians or nurses.
These are no doubt wonderful aspirations, and how many American students would list school subjects as their interests? How many are that grateful for and devoted to their studies? These classes all have 45 students and are kept in order by their own discipline, respect for teachers, and desire to learn. It’s pretty incredible.
There were some answers that were more inspiring than others, and made me stop and reflect as I entered them into my spreadsheet, a common interest was “Pray God” or “Singing songs of Praise.” Below I copied some other excerpts as nearly as I could:
“Interest: I like to pray God through his son Jesus Christ and to love each other”
“Being someone that every will be proud of, especially my mom”
“Career Aspiration *being one day an important person in government
*being a peace maker”
As I final thought, in each class at least one student listed “soldier” as their career aspiration.
To get to know our students better, Kerry and I did a very American thing. We passed out small pieces of paper and asked each student to write their name, interests and career aspirations on them. Many of the interests listed echoed the fact that these students are some of the best in the country ,attending one of the best schools for science; Physics, Chemistry, and Maths were all listed. The jobs also followed this, with many students wanting to be engineers, medical doctors, politicians or nurses.
These are no doubt wonderful aspirations, and how many American students would list school subjects as their interests? How many are that grateful for and devoted to their studies? These classes all have 45 students and are kept in order by their own discipline, respect for teachers, and desire to learn. It’s pretty incredible.
There were some answers that were more inspiring than others, and made me stop and reflect as I entered them into my spreadsheet, a common interest was “Pray God” or “Singing songs of Praise.” Below I copied some other excerpts as nearly as I could:
“Interest: I like to pray God through his son Jesus Christ and to love each other”
“Being someone that every will be proud of, especially my mom”
“Career Aspiration *being one day an important person in government
*being a peace maker”
As I final thought, in each class at least one student listed “soldier” as their career aspiration.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Eco-System of My Bedroom
I am tempted to say “rooms” because I have a sitting area and a bedroom, which are separate. But as neither is very large, it may give the wrong impression, so I will stick to room.
I am sure that the first thing any American would notice is my lovely mosquito net, which makes me feel claustrophobic at night and a princess in the morning. So here’s hoping I get used to it. And, spending one night away from him without it and receiving 9 bites for my troubles, I know it’s worth it.
So mosquitoes are my first foes. Followed by ants. Tiny ants decided to invade my bedroom for no apparent reason. But as they were making themselves quite at home on my bedside table, I used bug spray first and some ant-killer that I’m sure would be illegal in the use. The floor is discolored where the chemicals landed, but the ants are gone. Victory! And the last creatures on this level is fruit flies, or gnats, or some small flying insect. I don’t know why, but twice now they are appeared on the glass between the two open, screenless windows by my bed. Clearly they are stupid. But also gross, because there have been about 50 on each occasion, and they just bounce against the glass above my bed. The ant-killer spray and a cleaning cloth to get rid of them has helped. Hopefully they are gone for a while.
So as one who is waging war on the bugs, I have adopted the motto “my enemies enemy is my friend.” Spiders are now welcome creatures in my room. As are lizards, but that’s probably less of a surprised. I also would probably encourage any bird, or even a bat, that flew in for an evening snack, if the promised not to drop too much behind.
I have to be very grateful for my first experience with creepy crawlies in Texas, and although the cockroaches were victorious, I at least am well prepared to deal with more insects than should really ever venture into the house.
I am sure that the first thing any American would notice is my lovely mosquito net, which makes me feel claustrophobic at night and a princess in the morning. So here’s hoping I get used to it. And, spending one night away from him without it and receiving 9 bites for my troubles, I know it’s worth it.
So mosquitoes are my first foes. Followed by ants. Tiny ants decided to invade my bedroom for no apparent reason. But as they were making themselves quite at home on my bedside table, I used bug spray first and some ant-killer that I’m sure would be illegal in the use. The floor is discolored where the chemicals landed, but the ants are gone. Victory! And the last creatures on this level is fruit flies, or gnats, or some small flying insect. I don’t know why, but twice now they are appeared on the glass between the two open, screenless windows by my bed. Clearly they are stupid. But also gross, because there have been about 50 on each occasion, and they just bounce against the glass above my bed. The ant-killer spray and a cleaning cloth to get rid of them has helped. Hopefully they are gone for a while.
So as one who is waging war on the bugs, I have adopted the motto “my enemies enemy is my friend.” Spiders are now welcome creatures in my room. As are lizards, but that’s probably less of a surprised. I also would probably encourage any bird, or even a bat, that flew in for an evening snack, if the promised not to drop too much behind.
I have to be very grateful for my first experience with creepy crawlies in Texas, and although the cockroaches were victorious, I at least am well prepared to deal with more insects than should really ever venture into the house.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
T.I.A.
This Is Africa.
Africa Time is becoming a phrase I hear frequently. And in the past few days I have been realizing what that actually means.
On Friday, Kerry and I had to be at school at 8.50, so as the bus didn't come right away, we took motos from the orphanage where we stayed Thursday night to the bus stop center of Guitarama. Kerry asked someone which bus was going to Byimana (where the school is). The man gestured to a bus near the front of the clump so we joined the few people in it and waited. This was 8.15. 15 minutes and 5 buses leaving in the direction we wanted to go later- we verified that we wanted to leave now. And were told yes this bus is leaving. 5 more minutes and we got on another bus.
This second bus was slow in starting an like all local buses stopped frequently. At 8.45 the by pulled into a gas station. Everyone getting in had many packages. And the man who collects the money saw a friend and got out to chat- while the bus waited! Until Kerry forcefully said 'let's go!!' in kinyarwanda. We were ten minutes late to class.
It's hard to be a model of 'western efficiency' when you're relaying on local transportation.
Today, Danice and I decided to go to mass in kibuye. Which is a town on lake kivu. (as a side note, kibuye also had a large massacre in their church. The chose to create a memorial next to the church and still use the old buIlding as a place of worship. It's a bit weird praying somewhere that 10,000 people were brutally killed)
We were told mass was at 10.30 or 7.30. So, now being experienced with how late mass in Rwanda (and especially in Kinyarwanda) goes we decided on 7.30 so as to not miss our 2.00pm bus home. We got to the churh at 7.40, wondering if we were late but we were actually the first people in the church. At 8.05 mass actually started. It ended at 9.40. So not too bad.
One final thing to share- it was announced in Kinyarwanda, French, and English that today's collection was for the people in Haiti.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Africa Time is becoming a phrase I hear frequently. And in the past few days I have been realizing what that actually means.
On Friday, Kerry and I had to be at school at 8.50, so as the bus didn't come right away, we took motos from the orphanage where we stayed Thursday night to the bus stop center of Guitarama. Kerry asked someone which bus was going to Byimana (where the school is). The man gestured to a bus near the front of the clump so we joined the few people in it and waited. This was 8.15. 15 minutes and 5 buses leaving in the direction we wanted to go later- we verified that we wanted to leave now. And were told yes this bus is leaving. 5 more minutes and we got on another bus.
This second bus was slow in starting an like all local buses stopped frequently. At 8.45 the by pulled into a gas station. Everyone getting in had many packages. And the man who collects the money saw a friend and got out to chat- while the bus waited! Until Kerry forcefully said 'let's go!!' in kinyarwanda. We were ten minutes late to class.
It's hard to be a model of 'western efficiency' when you're relaying on local transportation.
Today, Danice and I decided to go to mass in kibuye. Which is a town on lake kivu. (as a side note, kibuye also had a large massacre in their church. The chose to create a memorial next to the church and still use the old buIlding as a place of worship. It's a bit weird praying somewhere that 10,000 people were brutally killed)
We were told mass was at 10.30 or 7.30. So, now being experienced with how late mass in Rwanda (and especially in Kinyarwanda) goes we decided on 7.30 so as to not miss our 2.00pm bus home. We got to the churh at 7.40, wondering if we were late but we were actually the first people in the church. At 8.05 mass actually started. It ended at 9.40. So not too bad.
One final thing to share- it was announced in Kinyarwanda, French, and English that today's collection was for the people in Haiti.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Pied Piper
I have decided that bein a celebrity would not be enjoyable. Ever where you go, people talking about you. Pointing at you. Talking to you and expecting an answer. Even when you are clearly reading. Or eating. Or in a conversation. Children running after you...
Well that part isn't so bad. All of a sudden a hand grabs yours or a child is hugging your legs.
We walk down a dirt road to one of the schools. And children just come out of the woodwork. Ten of them ran up to Kerry and I and walked us to the bus stop. Their parents don't stop them and some of these children are barely speaking kinyarwanda let alone English or French but they are adorable. And 90% of the time an advantage to my new found celebrity...
Well that part isn't so bad. All of a sudden a hand grabs yours or a child is hugging your legs.
We walk down a dirt road to one of the schools. And children just come out of the woodwork. Ten of them ran up to Kerry and I and walked us to the bus stop. Their parents don't stop them and some of these children are barely speaking kinyarwanda let alone English or French but they are adorable. And 90% of the time an advantage to my new found celebrity...
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Water
Yesterday we had a bit of an adventure. We (Jess and I) met Kate at one of the schools we will be working at, and observed some classes. They were great and not the adventure. The adventure was coming home. It takes about an hour+ in the car to drive between this school and Kigali, but because buses are buses it's about a 3-4 hour commute. This was complicated by the fact that the school is at a part way stop, so the bus only has to stop when they have space to fill.
We ended up being picked up by a parent who had just enrolled his child. The man was very nice, but interesting from a political point. He works in the Supreme Court. But he's another story.
The point of this was that I noticed many people carrying yellow plastic jugs. Very large jugs. Like 5 year old children appeared to be carrying something bigger than themselves. I kept wondering to myself what they were for. Deciding it was most likely water, since we too take our giant bottles to be refilled.
Near town is when I realized my mistake. Yes the bottles the children and women and men were carrying was for water. But it was closer to the water containers I had seen at the Doctors Without Borders "Refuge Camp in the City" - 5 gallons of water for a family, or something like that. And they weren't taking them to a store to be refilled, but to the drainage ditch/stream on the side of the road.
Poverty doesn't always strike you as poverty. Until you realize that you are so spoiled, here I am, only drinking filtered and bottled water. And there are my neighbors, drinking whatever water they can find.
Clean Water. It really does change the world.
We ended up being picked up by a parent who had just enrolled his child. The man was very nice, but interesting from a political point. He works in the Supreme Court. But he's another story.
The point of this was that I noticed many people carrying yellow plastic jugs. Very large jugs. Like 5 year old children appeared to be carrying something bigger than themselves. I kept wondering to myself what they were for. Deciding it was most likely water, since we too take our giant bottles to be refilled.
Near town is when I realized my mistake. Yes the bottles the children and women and men were carrying was for water. But it was closer to the water containers I had seen at the Doctors Without Borders "Refuge Camp in the City" - 5 gallons of water for a family, or something like that. And they weren't taking them to a store to be refilled, but to the drainage ditch/stream on the side of the road.
Poverty doesn't always strike you as poverty. Until you realize that you are so spoiled, here I am, only drinking filtered and bottled water. And there are my neighbors, drinking whatever water they can find.
Clean Water. It really does change the world.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Probably not a bedtime story...
If you google images of Nyamata, you may see pictures of the little town, with dusty roads, red earth and a vibrantly blue sky. You may see pictures of the school where I will be working. But you will definitely see a picture of rows of skulls. Human skulls, just to clarify.
During the 1994 genocide, 10,000 Tutsis hid in the Catholic Church. And the Interahamwe(Hutu militia) used a grenade to open the iron doors. Then they proceeded to torture, rape and brutally kill the 10,000 people who had taken refuge there. Tragically, this was not the only church that that happened in. In fact, the radio encouraged Tutsis to seek safety there, because it made it easier for the killers to find them. What makes Nyamata unique is that they left the church as a memorial.
You walk through the door that has a hole in it, into a church. It’s so clearly a church, like most other Catholic Churches built in the late 1960s. It reminded me of the Church my parents attend in New Cumberland. And the pews are filled with the clothes the victims were wearing? Can you imagine the clothing and belongings of 10,000 people piled up? Such vibrant colors too! Just faded, with time, and dirt, and blood. Blood. The alter is stained red.
There is a crypt inside, with a single coffin. And there are bones it the neat rows that the pictures on the internet depicted. Outside more people are buried- coffins shared and more crypts, but I could only walk down the stairs of those, not into. In total 41,000 people are buried there. I’m not even entirely sure what that many people looks like…
I wanted to go to this particular memorial, because that story and so many like it affected me the most when I did my research. And I needed to see. But I was not prepared. How could I be? It was a place that was Hell. And it remembers.
I kept thinking, how could this happen? How could it have been stopped? I wanted to think “Never Again.” But I know that it is happening now, as I write this, about 4 hours away in the Congo. And I want to know how to stop it. I want “Never Again” to be the promise it wasn’t after WWII, and after Serbia, and after Rwanda; that it should be for DRC and Darfur and every other country where people know Hell.
Let me end positively, while I was in the crypt in the church I heard a group of school children sing their ABCs... and it made me smile Because there is joy so close to such a place now.
During the 1994 genocide, 10,000 Tutsis hid in the Catholic Church. And the Interahamwe(Hutu militia) used a grenade to open the iron doors. Then they proceeded to torture, rape and brutally kill the 10,000 people who had taken refuge there. Tragically, this was not the only church that that happened in. In fact, the radio encouraged Tutsis to seek safety there, because it made it easier for the killers to find them. What makes Nyamata unique is that they left the church as a memorial.
You walk through the door that has a hole in it, into a church. It’s so clearly a church, like most other Catholic Churches built in the late 1960s. It reminded me of the Church my parents attend in New Cumberland. And the pews are filled with the clothes the victims were wearing? Can you imagine the clothing and belongings of 10,000 people piled up? Such vibrant colors too! Just faded, with time, and dirt, and blood. Blood. The alter is stained red.
There is a crypt inside, with a single coffin. And there are bones it the neat rows that the pictures on the internet depicted. Outside more people are buried- coffins shared and more crypts, but I could only walk down the stairs of those, not into. In total 41,000 people are buried there. I’m not even entirely sure what that many people looks like…
I wanted to go to this particular memorial, because that story and so many like it affected me the most when I did my research. And I needed to see. But I was not prepared. How could I be? It was a place that was Hell. And it remembers.
I kept thinking, how could this happen? How could it have been stopped? I wanted to think “Never Again.” But I know that it is happening now, as I write this, about 4 hours away in the Congo. And I want to know how to stop it. I want “Never Again” to be the promise it wasn’t after WWII, and after Serbia, and after Rwanda; that it should be for DRC and Darfur and every other country where people know Hell.
Let me end positively, while I was in the crypt in the church I heard a group of school children sing their ABCs... and it made me smile Because there is joy so close to such a place now.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
St Michael's
This morning my housemate jess and I attended mass at the cathedral. She and Kerry discovered last week that the kinyarwandan mass is at 11 and is 3 hours so we aimed for the 9 am English mass.
We arrived just at 9 and the first thing I noticed is what a simple church it is. A beautiful church but not exactly what I would expect in a cathedral.
Then I noticed the choir and the were beautiful. It was a joy to hear them, Which may be why every prayer was sung... Even the response to the petitions.
For those familiar with catholic mass- it was like a special occasion with incense and holy water sprinkling. But as my soul is rejoicing being here I didn't really mind. The readers announced the the reading, chapter and verses which was new to me.
The homily was also beautiful. Or rather the four omilies that were the homily were all very nice. The priest was very sincere Although a little long winded.
2 hours later I was wondering if we would finish in time for the 11am mass and we didn't. We were ten minutes over.
The best part was the same. Knowing my family would be sitting in their churhes in 7 hours, hearing what I heard and thinking of me made me feel like I'm not completely separated from them.
and if they are still snowed in then it's still the same.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
We arrived just at 9 and the first thing I noticed is what a simple church it is. A beautiful church but not exactly what I would expect in a cathedral.
Then I noticed the choir and the were beautiful. It was a joy to hear them, Which may be why every prayer was sung... Even the response to the petitions.
For those familiar with catholic mass- it was like a special occasion with incense and holy water sprinkling. But as my soul is rejoicing being here I didn't really mind. The readers announced the the reading, chapter and verses which was new to me.
The homily was also beautiful. Or rather the four omilies that were the homily were all very nice. The priest was very sincere Although a little long winded.
2 hours later I was wondering if we would finish in time for the 11am mass and we didn't. We were ten minutes over.
The best part was the same. Knowing my family would be sitting in their churhes in 7 hours, hearing what I heard and thinking of me made me feel like I'm not completely separated from them.
and if they are still snowed in then it's still the same.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Motos
Last night was my first moto ride. Motos are probably the most common way to get around Kigali, and most African cities. They are basically sturdier Vespas. In Rwanda it is required by law that passengers wear a helmet. So one is suplied. I may be asking for special shampoo before too long...
My first go was alright. We were following my roommate's moto and when a bus cut between us my driver ran a very red light to catch back up.
The ride home was less relaxing The helmet I was handed, after I asked for it, had a shattered visor and soon into the drive I began to understand why. Fortunately I arrived home in one piece. I am tired of drivers ripping off the muzungus though with inflated prices. I must work on negotiating skills.
Hope everyone is staying warm and safe
My first go was alright. We were following my roommate's moto and when a bus cut between us my driver ran a very red light to catch back up.
The ride home was less relaxing The helmet I was handed, after I asked for it, had a shattered visor and soon into the drive I began to understand why. Fortunately I arrived home in one piece. I am tired of drivers ripping off the muzungus though with inflated prices. I must work on negotiating skills.
Hope everyone is staying warm and safe
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Kinyarwandan, Lesson One:
Taught by Roland and another Gardener.
Although the lesson was on my way to the kitchen to find Jess, and rather unexpected, let me assure you, I did not go in completely ignorant. I know Muzungu means “White Person,” because that’s what the children yell as we walk back. It has a bit of a prettier ring to it than the Harlem equivalent of “snowflake.” Also I know Kich-u-kero, which is the neighborhood I live in. (my roommates will laugh at that one).
So the lesson started with me smiling and saying “Good Morning” but one gardener only speaks Kinyarwanda, although he may speak French come to think of it. Roland speaks some English, I think more than he is comfortable using. But he is very soft spoken, probably in the same way I am when speaking French or Spanish or, now, Kinyarwanda. So we started with the basics, Goodmorning. Hello. And Goodafternoon. I would write them out but as I barely have the pronunciation in the right direction, I have no idea how to spell them.
We then moved on to more complicated words, explained to me with some excellent charade gestures. The first was woman. And the gesture made me blush. Fortunately man was a beard. Grandfather was a stooped over man. Child was shown as short. I also learned, I am Happy. Which I am. So hopefully soon I can repeat these words to you.
and I leave you with this final quote that I found online today:
"Imana yirirwa ahandi igataha mu Rwanda."
"God spends the day elsewhere, but sleeps in Rwanda."
Although the lesson was on my way to the kitchen to find Jess, and rather unexpected, let me assure you, I did not go in completely ignorant. I know Muzungu means “White Person,” because that’s what the children yell as we walk back. It has a bit of a prettier ring to it than the Harlem equivalent of “snowflake.” Also I know Kich-u-kero, which is the neighborhood I live in. (my roommates will laugh at that one).
So the lesson started with me smiling and saying “Good Morning” but one gardener only speaks Kinyarwanda, although he may speak French come to think of it. Roland speaks some English, I think more than he is comfortable using. But he is very soft spoken, probably in the same way I am when speaking French or Spanish or, now, Kinyarwanda. So we started with the basics, Goodmorning. Hello. And Goodafternoon. I would write them out but as I barely have the pronunciation in the right direction, I have no idea how to spell them.
We then moved on to more complicated words, explained to me with some excellent charade gestures. The first was woman. And the gesture made me blush. Fortunately man was a beard. Grandfather was a stooped over man. Child was shown as short. I also learned, I am Happy. Which I am. So hopefully soon I can repeat these words to you.
and I leave you with this final quote that I found online today:
"Imana yirirwa ahandi igataha mu Rwanda."
"God spends the day elsewhere, but sleeps in Rwanda."
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Recycling Information
Many people have expressed concern for the destination of my adventure, and while I understand that the are obviously some very negative parts of Rwanda's history, there are some beautiful parts too. None less so than the past 15 years, where Rwanda has done what very few countries have ever done, come from utter despair and ruin and built a growing, sustainable economy. There is a lot of work still to be done, and no one is more aware of this than the Rwandan people.
I am recycling the links shared on my fellow volunteer, Jess's, blog. I think that they will help create an understanding of Rwanda's past and current situation. The first is written by returning volunteer, Kerry.
Kerry Ann Dobies – Brief Political History of Rwanda
http://kerryanndobies.blogspot.com/2009/03/brief-political-history-of-rwanda.html
Fast Company – Rwanda Rising: A New Model of Economic Development
http://www.fastcompany.com/magazine/134/special-report-rwanda-rising.html
I am recycling the links shared on my fellow volunteer, Jess's, blog. I think that they will help create an understanding of Rwanda's past and current situation. The first is written by returning volunteer, Kerry.
Kerry Ann Dobies – Brief Political History of Rwanda
http://kerryanndobies.blogspot.com/2009/03/brief-political-history-of-rwanda.html
Fast Company – Rwanda Rising: A New Model of Economic Development
http://www.fastcompany.com/magazine/134/special-report-rwanda-rising.html
And we're off...
Alright, so I'm not off until Wednesday. Which is good, because I am not packed yet. At all. I am very excited, and a little bit nervous.
Things left to do:
- pick up malaria medication
- trip to Target
- and... that would be it.
Below is information about the school, and what I will be doing in Rwanda. I will definitely be updating with something more interesting in the very near future; but you've got to start somewhere, right?
About Maranyundo
The Maranyundo School is a tuition-free English language middle school for girls, ages 12-17. The school is located in one of Rwanda’s most impoverished regions, in a town infamous for its suffering during the 1994 genocide. Rwanda’s government mandates universal primary education, but the country has a long way to go to reach this goal. In 2008 alone, 68 percent of Rwanda’s female students dropped out of primary school. Maranyundo is helping Rwanda’s future leaders by giving them the language and leadership skills they need to steer East Africa’s future toward peace, stability and economic growth.
My role at the school
With a staff of Rwandan teachers for core academic classes, a critical part of the students’ experience is English mentoring. As a language mentor I will live at the school, assisting 120 + girls with their coursework and leading activities to help them develop their English and computer skills. Because French continues to be widely spoken in Rwanda I have been learning French through Rosetta Stone to better facilitate access to school resources and leading English classes for adults and children from the greater community.
If you would like to help
There are many costs associated with volunteering, and raising the funds for my service allows for the greatest efficiency in operating a nonprofit school. I must raise at least $5,000 to cover all expenses and I am turning to you for help. Donations are 100 percent tax-deductible and directly fund the Maranyundo mentor program. This is an ideal opportunity to invest in a tangible, sustainable initiative that directly impacts the future leaders of a developing country. please click the link at the bottom of the page if you are able to contribute.
You can learn more about the Maranyundo school from this great video: http://www.maranyundo.org/beacon-of-hope.
I look forward to soon sharing my volunteering experience with you through pictures and stories. And please share my blog with any one who might find it interesting.
-Rae
Things left to do:
- pick up malaria medication
- trip to Target
- and... that would be it.
Below is information about the school, and what I will be doing in Rwanda. I will definitely be updating with something more interesting in the very near future; but you've got to start somewhere, right?
About Maranyundo
The Maranyundo School is a tuition-free English language middle school for girls, ages 12-17. The school is located in one of Rwanda’s most impoverished regions, in a town infamous for its suffering during the 1994 genocide. Rwanda’s government mandates universal primary education, but the country has a long way to go to reach this goal. In 2008 alone, 68 percent of Rwanda’s female students dropped out of primary school. Maranyundo is helping Rwanda’s future leaders by giving them the language and leadership skills they need to steer East Africa’s future toward peace, stability and economic growth.
My role at the school
With a staff of Rwandan teachers for core academic classes, a critical part of the students’ experience is English mentoring. As a language mentor I will live at the school, assisting 120 + girls with their coursework and leading activities to help them develop their English and computer skills. Because French continues to be widely spoken in Rwanda I have been learning French through Rosetta Stone to better facilitate access to school resources and leading English classes for adults and children from the greater community.
If you would like to help
There are many costs associated with volunteering, and raising the funds for my service allows for the greatest efficiency in operating a nonprofit school. I must raise at least $5,000 to cover all expenses and I am turning to you for help. Donations are 100 percent tax-deductible and directly fund the Maranyundo mentor program. This is an ideal opportunity to invest in a tangible, sustainable initiative that directly impacts the future leaders of a developing country. please click the link at the bottom of the page if you are able to contribute.
You can learn more about the Maranyundo school from this great video: http://www.maranyundo.org/beacon-of-hope.
I look forward to soon sharing my volunteering experience with you through pictures and stories. And please share my blog with any one who might find it interesting.
-Rae
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