bololam

The End of the Line

2012-01-27T05:32:00.000-08:00

I was talking to this girl the other day, she was a PCV here in Rwanda for her two years and is now staying a bit longer. She wasn't excited about being in Africa and Peace Corps when she first arrived straight out of college. I guess I always thought that when you're doing something for the first time in a new place you'd be ecstatic about it.

So I asked why she stayed (Probably a sign of my awkward-African-adjusted-social manners...). The whole time she only complained about being here, being a PCV (it has been a while since then!), her students (she's a grade school teacher) and annoying things she puts up with.

All I could think of was what Grandma would say:

If you don't absolutely love it, then why do it?!

I guess I know this and have always tried to live by it, but it’s much more real when I'm at a crossroads--like now-- and have to make the big decisions that will affect my life.

I finished Peace Corps service on January 4, 2012, a full 42 months of volunteering in Africa! (Some say I'm dedicated, others, I'm crazy!)

I'm looking for a job in Kigali. Being in Rwanda already is a huge choice. If I don't 100% love it and see it as worthy, then I would need to get out ASAP! I've looked and interviewed with international, multi-million dollar NGOs (non-government organizations); smaller NGOs, international schools, and local schools.

It's a matter of looking at the daily tasks: can I do these with joy and feel accomplished at the end of the day? Can I do these and feel fulfilled with my life?

Being in Africa really highlights to me that I'm here --in Africa, on Earth, living-- to work, to DO good things. I give up my family and culture to love these people and invest in their lives.

If I were in the states it'd be much easier, almost inevitable, to fall into a state of complacency, contentedly staying in the pattern of life that for so many keeps them focused on the small things, and for me would breed mediocrity. Being here constantly reminds me that I don't belong here (Rwanda, Africa, Earth). But I am here. I am here to do good things, to work, to love on people! I am forced to repeatedly assess all that I am doing, its efficacy, necessity, sustainability, motivation, and product. If I were home I'd likely fall into the ease of daily routine, rarely question what I do, why I do it, or the purpose of all things together. Africa forces me to focus: on friends, relationships, food, work, time, learning.

And intentionally choosing how I invest myself in life.

Life Plan B: Staying in Rwanda

2011-11-18T01:14:00.001-08:00

My Peace Corps contract is over on January 4th, 2012 and until them I'm working on my CV, networking with local big-wigs, and looking for a job in Kigali. I feel like I have so many capabilities that can be utilized well in Rwanda: language capacity, cultural understanding, situational adaptation, along with a western education make my skills set ripe for the region! I want to use these gifts I have to the FULLEST, maximizing the impact of good programs --and even my presence-- to make the biggest difference in the lives of every day people who are suffering and in need.

Does that make sense?

I hope you can understand my dilemma: I love you all. I miss you all. I dream about you all the time. I want to be where you are. I want to laugh with my brother and sister. I want to sit around with my dad. I want to have heart-to-hearts with my mom. I want to listen to Grandma's ideas. I want to be spoiled by Nana. I want to take 30 minutes to hug and say hello to our families at holidays and gatherings.

But I also want to help create that kind of love that we have amongst people who have no idea it even exists. Can you imagine a sadder life? We are so blessed to have not only our freedoms and material wealth, but more so to have our family, friends, love, happiness, joy, hope, and ideals. And this place is largely devoid of all of that. I think government corruption might always exist in Africa, and the people might stay poor forever. But the deep-seeded hopelessness, hate, distrust, coldness, and lack of education is so unnecessary and a problem that can be addressed.

Rwanda is actually a nation that does things. They are seen by international workers as a model of accomplishing positive change. They're making things happen and I feel hopeful for the work here. They've come a long way since the 1994 Genocide in rebuilding their nation, but I want to help them rebuild themselves (its especially sad to see the secondary trauma affecting the youth born after the Genocide--they weren't in or even near the War but are being raised by parents and a society that were severely traumatized by it).

Please understand how hard it was--and is-- for me to decide to look for work in Kigali, even if it is for just a short time (could be a few months or indefinitely).

Oh, I forgot to tell you The Plan! Life Plan B: look for a job in Kigali. See if I DO like international development and want to make a career of it. If I do, get a masters in something related. If I don't, I'll go back to Life Plan A: travel through Asia to California and become a school counselor. Unless of course a New Life Plan occurs to me :)

So my dear family and friends, I hope we hung out in August cause I can't say when we'll see each other again!

Condoms for healthy sex choices?

2011-10-25T06:52:00.000-07:00

(This is my reaction to my previous blog post, an article from an online international news site)

Many of my PCV teacher friends and I have had this question in our own classrooms and lessons. There is a common strategy in safe sex teachings called ABC: Abstinence, Being faithful, and Condoms. In America most of us learn about all of these options by high school (about 15-18 years old).

Rwanda is a very religious country, with many schools ran or supported by churches that advocate AB (abstinence and being faithful) only. With the vast majority of people proclaiming religious reasons and moral obligations against teaching condom use, they haven't provided the people with any real solutions to prevent AIDS, disease, and unwanted pregnancy.

Fortunately or unfortunately, this culture has a long history and love affair with sex. Long, long ago it was common practice for fathers marrying off their sons to force the young soon-to-be-bride to sleep with them; if she refused, the old man would advise his son against marrying her saying she wasn't obedient or whatever. Not as long ago, men would take several wives, depending on their capacity to support the women and children. Still today, most young people (those in secondary school, about 15+ years old) are actively engaging in sexual activities. It's often accepted by wives that their men have other women on the side; men proposition countless women on a daily basis, and girls often flirt with men. Older women either not satisfied by their husbands or widowed, may take a younger man to "show him the ropes" or just for the pleasure; there is even a word in Kinyarwanda that roughly translates to "a vigorous young man with the necessary capacity to satisfy an older woman". Young girls are often engaged in the horizontal tango with older men, aka Sugar Daddies, who in turn pay their school fees or give them lotions, phones, or other things their families can't afford. In a recent, independent survey I took, (30 participants, 50% male, 50% female, 5 participants in each of the following age categories: 14-20, 21-25, 26-30, 31-35, 36-40, 41+) 100% of girls aged 14-20 believe it is ok to have sex in exchange for goods.

Not a day goes by that I don't hear or am on the receiving end of some sort of sexual joke. It seems to be on many people's minds and tips of tongues.

But ALL of these activities are very hushed to be sure that the religious aspect of life shows through.

Accordingly, there are many not-so-miraculous conceptions all around the country, AIDS is spreading around the continent, and diseases are running rampantly.

I could be wrong but strongly believe that there are many unreported sexually transmitted infections (STIs), including AIDS. Possibly like many westerners, locals may not enjoy going to the doctor. In casual conversation I've been told that having AIDS or other STIs as an adult is not important: he/she has already lived his/her life and will die anyway; now they just focus on farming and providing for their children (breaks my heart). Another person, a health care professional, explained to me that AIDS is the "common cold of Africa" and that everyone has it.

Some of the cases I've seen are truly heart-breaking:

Sandrine (her name has been changed--as have all names appearing here) is a secondary school student (7th-12th grade in USA equivalent) who just wasn't getting high enough grades to pass on to the next level. Like others before her, she approached her teacher to "discuss" her options...9 months later she was out of school anyway due to pregnancy.

Esperance (her name has been changed) is also a secondary school student, so proud of her good grades, her pretty clothes, family love, and her new boyfriend. She was so in love with him! Then he pulled all the cards on her: if you love me, you'll sleep with me; if you don't sleep with me, I'll leave you; everybody's doing it! So she did it. It's illegal to get abortions in Rwanda, so she begged her teacher (one of my PCV colleagues) to help her go to Uganda for an abortion claiming how badly her life would be ruined if she had a baby: her parents would beat then abandon her; she wouldn't be able to study; her boyfriend already left her because he has no money and doesn't want a child. Esperance left school and hasn't been back, so we don't know if she gave birth, got an abortion and lived, or, like most in her position, got an abortion and died.

Marie Claire (her name has been changed) had already graduated from secondary school when she moved to a new town for her first job. She immediately fell in love and got pregnant. Though her lover won't acknowledge the baby, he is still seen leaving her house at all hours of the night, she still loves him, and is waiting for him to make it official...meanwhile he's out flirting with other girls. Marie Claire still has her job but has had an unnecessarily hard fight: her parents told her to leave work, but she refused to give up a salary that could support her and her baby girl; she's publicly gossiped about by her lover; the community talks behind her back then smiles to her face. Its like the drama, self-doubt, self-hatred, and majority-party voracious desire to destroy of junior high (who can explain it? but no one can escape it). At least in junior high you went back home and your mom or friends could make you feel better; poor Marie Claire lives there and has no escape.

Condom use, in my opinion, is 110% necessary in this country, on this continent, in the world. Though my personal choices are AB, I, we, policy makers, have to accept that those are NOT the popular choices. No matter how much people say they only want AB, the hoi polloi is having sexual relations outside of those parameters and the people are doing nothing to protect themselves.

Parents, teachers divided over condom initiative

2011-10-24T04:09:00.000-07:00

This is an article a friend emailed to me (my own on-the-ground views will follow in the next posting):

http://www.plusnews.org/Country.aspx?Country=RW

KIGALI, 24 October 2011 (PlusNews) - A proposed initiative to distribute condoms to Rwandan secondary school students has divided parents, teachers and other members of society, with some cheering the plan and others concerned that teens are not mature enough to use condoms responsibly.
Local NGOs, including Health Development Initiative (HDI-Rwanda), Rwanda NGOs Forum on HIV/AIDS and Health Promotion, and Association Ihorere Munyarwanda are fronting the initiative on the grounds that young people must be protected from HIV and other sexually transmitted infections and unwanted pregnancies.

"We developed the idea for this project following numerous secondary school students' complaints [about lack of access to condoms]," HDI Rwanda's Cassien Havugimana said during the launch of the campaign in September in the capital, Kigali. "But for effectiveness, behavioural change awareness must accompany access to the materials needed for safe sex."

In November, the campaign plans to carry out mass mobilization and awareness-raising for stakeholders including school heads, teachers and local officials. If the government gives the NGOs the go-ahead, condom distribution should start in December; the NGOs aim to reach the entire country, but will start with secondary schools in Kigali.

According to HDI-Rwanda's communications officer Christine Calouro, any distribution would be accompanied by education on abstinence as a preferred choice for young people and with additional reproductive health information.
Some secondary school officials have already expressed their vehement opposition to the idea of condoms being handed out to their students.
Missed response

"I don't believe in condoms being distributed in secondary schools... It's a no go zone," Innocent Nshimiyemungu, deputy head teacher at Kigali's Lycée de Ruhengeri APICUR, told IRIN/PlusNews. "The children are, in the first place, not mature enough to know how to use condoms."
We should emphasize postponement of sexual activity by encouraging these young people to embrace abstinence. How do I start encouraging my young girls to engage in sexual activity instead of concentrating on academics?

"We should promote abstinence instead, and introduce condoms at a higher level - say universities and other higher institutions of learning," he added.
Edward Asiimwe, a father of two girls of secondary school age, is also against the proposal.

"To say that condoms be introduced to these young children means we have lost our sense of direction and morals," he told IRIN/PlusNews. "We should emphasize postponement of sexual activity by encouraging these young people to embrace abstinence. How do I start encouraging my young girls to engage in sexual activity instead of concentrating on their academics?"

But Jean Marie Twahiirwa, business director at the International School of Kigali, says it is important for young people to be equipped with knowledge of and access to condoms.

"We should educate these young people about condom use and avail them because either way, they engage in sexual intercourse, so the earlier we teach them the better," he said. "I don't think this will necessarily push them into early sex because emphasis will be put on the essence of sexuality so that the students understand the rightful purpose of sex and condoms."

Loretta Umukunzi*, a student at the International School of Kigali, told IRIN/PlusNews she would not object to condoms being dispensed at her school. "I think it's OK since I see girls getting pregnant and dropping out of school," she said. "As long as they teach students how to use them properly then we shall not be faced with such problems again."

Early sex

According to a 2009 Behavioural Surveillance Survey, an estimated 6.1 percent of girls and 14.7 percent of boys aged 15-19 had their first sexual intercourse before the age of 15. The survey found that the percentage of comprehensive HIV knowledge among youth aged 15-19 was 9.4 percent for girls and 11 percent for boys.

Young women appear to be at higher risk of HIV, with the government reporting HIV prevalence among young women aged 15-24 at 3.9 percent, compared to 1.1 percent for young men in the same age group. The country's national prevalence is about 3 percent.

Deputy Speaker of Rwanda's parliament Jean Damascene Ntawukuliryayo has thrown his weight behind the campaign.

"I support the campaign. This will help us curb unwanted pregnancies in schools - of course not forgetting other solutions like involving parents in reproductive health education of their children and including such issues in the school curriculum," he said.

Officials at the Ministry of Health say while the distribution of condoms in secondary schools is not official government policy, the issue has been under debate for some time.

"Discussions have been ongoing between the Ministry of Education, the Ministry of Health and the National HIV Control Programme around the issues of the many cases of unwanted pregnancies, a clear indication that unprotected sex is real in secondary schools which could lead to the transmission of HIV," said Sabin Nsabimana, head of the HIV division at the Institute of HIV/AIDS Disease Prevention and Control at the Ministry of Health's Bio-Medical Centre.

Lessons from Home

2011-08-04T00:25:00.000-07:00

Home has been wonderful! I came with 3 objectives:
1)Helping my friend and making a plan (The hardest things in life are the most worthy)
2)Family and friends (Family is just about everything to me. I miss you all!)
3)Re-focusing: heart, mind, and soul. (being away from everything you know makes you change and grow, I want to be sure who I am now still holds to my core ideals and morals)

As I set out to achieve these goals in my grand total of 10 DAYS in California, this is what I did--and learned as I went along:

Stream swimming: Mom, Kelsey, the dog, and I went for a quick dip after hiking in the hills near our home.

"The worst thing is to do a job you don't love. The most important thing in life is to love what you do. If you don't love it, don't do it." --Grandma (Margarita)

Carousel: Kelsey and I went to this carousel and had a great time!

Like Grandma says, "Never ask yourself 'WHY did I do this?!' or 'Why DIDN'T I do this?!' Live your life with no regrets."

After riding a zebra, an ostrich, a pig, and a deer, Kelsey and I were supposed to take the hot air balloon for a ride. Silly winds were too strong and we can come back another date.

"It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities" -Dumbledore

Brother and sister. Who IS the oldest?
"Life is easy to chronicle, but bewildering to practice, and we welcome 'nerves' or any other shibboleth that will cloak our personal desire." -A Room with a View by E.M. Forster

My cousin's 3 month old baby is cute enough to make anyone want to have their own! Don't worry, this isn't a subtle hint that I'm next--I'm still light years behind.
"Who you are is God's gift to you; who you become is your gift to God"

Our family has about 6 August birthdays, I think they secretly planned this to cut down on party costs ;)
"The greatest discovery of my generation is that a human being can alter his life by altering his attitude" -William James

Pupusas are the BEST food in the world! Grandma's pupusas are the best, of course, and they're getting international acclaim.
"Never be ashamed. Accept what life offers you and try to drink from every cup. All wines should be tasted; some should only be sipped, but with others, drink the whole bottle... you only know a good wine if you have first tasted a bad one." -Brida by Paulo Coelho.

Packing has become an art: this is my 3rd time going from California to Africa; the first time I took 30lbs. The second may have been just a carry. This time I've weighed almost EXACTLY 50lbs for my check-in, and my carry-ons are full enough to clothe me and my friends for a few weeks.

"Don't say you don't have enough time. You have exactly the same number of hours per day that were given to Helen Keller, Pasteur, Michelangelo, Mother Theresa, Leonardo da Vinci, Thomas Jefferson, and Albert Einstein." -H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Back in the Homeland

2011-07-26T09:44:00.000-07:00

Everyone keeps asking what I plan on doing now that I'm back in the US.

First, I'm only here for 2 weeks: a quick vacation to use a plane ticket credit before it expired.

Second, (you may or may not know that I enjoy praying and practicing my faith, as such) I want to use ALL of my gifts and abilities to help people.

Third, I plan on eating Pizookie with my friends, and hanging out with my family.

Lastly, after focusing on learning and integrating into a foreign culture for the last 3 years, I want to re-focus myself and remember my own.

After this 2 week break in the states, I'll continue being a Peace Corps Volunteer until December of this year, then see where things take me. Maybe stay in Africa for a while? Not more than a few years. Maybe come home? Maybe come to the US in a different state? Who knows!

Rwandan Fashion

2011-05-27T02:37:00.000-07:00

A very respectable couple posing for the camera. This is a very common pose in Africa (in my experience)

All kinds of foreign clothes end up in the local markets. This kid was just super cute.
(This is for you, Twin!!)

All about the hair. Love it.

The best in mother's fashion: flat-ironed hair, locally dyed fabrics (though not Kigali-local), golden jewelery, and a baby on the back.

Awesome old ladies at a party. what does YOUR grandma wear?

The beautiful bride at the civil ceremony.

Groomsmen and bridesmaid. So much fun!

These two are my favorite: not only cute as cake, but excellent at baking cake, too!

Peace Corps Volunteers, obviously super hot in the latest party fashion.

It can be difficult but...

2011-04-11T04:13:00.000-07:00

When you look for the joy in life, you'll find that it's surrounding you on all sides.

1.Saying hello isn't just a quick wave of the hand as you rush by on the sidewalk. Here every friend you see on the street gets a hand shake--if not a hug-- inquiries about the family, health, work, etc.

2. It's totally cool to just randomly walk up to your friend's house and go to visit him/her. No call beforehand or any warning: there's always someone home and everyone will be happy to have you over. If your friend is there, they'll be stoked to have this surprise visit and you'll eat together--or at least get a Fanta. If your friend isn't there you can peace out or sit and chat with whoever IS there, and you'll probably eat--or at least get that Fanta!

3. A small girl saw me walking down the street and immediately hid in fear behind her mother's skirts. OK, not new for me. The mom was like, "No, go great that auntie!" So this little girl comes running up to me with open arms, greets me, and even kisses my cheek when I pick her up.

4. Interpersonal skills are so developed here: people will be chatting away on the bus then leave and exchange numbers... cause they just met! A few times I've been walking with a friend down the street, and s/he'll start talking or joking with someone on the street; I ask if they're friends, and s/he'll say, "No, we're just being friendly."

5. I've had more conversations than I can count on the downside of phones: you call a person and listen to his/her voice instead of going there and seeing your friend. Texting is even worse! Rwandans prefer to take the time and enjoy your friend's company over a mere telephone call. But they also understand that distance can be a problem: 1 minute phone calls are a common occurrence, literally just to say hello to someone. Or getting a phone call out of the blue, from a friend you haven't seen in a long time is not a problem, its totally welcome.

6. Everyone loves and knows the same music. A fellow PCV was on the bus and started to sing along with one of the Rwandan pop songs that came on the radio and before he knew it, the ENTIRE BUS was singing along with him at the top of their lungs.

7. Sonia* is 5 years old and we’re hanging out at Alphonsine’s*, she’s helping me cook and I’m keeping her warm in her meager skirt and holey shirt. We’re chatting about 5 year old things (strings, shoes, potatoes, friends etc) and she’s looking at my arm, sort of petting my arm hair, and goes “Your skin changed and you became a muzungu(white person).” I explain that I bathed and scrubbed REALLY hard, so my skin changed. "Oh, ok."
*names have been changed.

8. Family is number one on this continent. People are so dedicated to family: your salary is not yours, it is your brother's, your sister's, your nieces', nephews', mom's, dad's.... people give so freely, openly, and wholeheartedly to one's family.

9. Food is very important, especially at official functions: there is ALWAYS breakfast, a 10am tea break, lunch, a 4pm tea break, and dinner.

10. There is SUCH a healthy view of weight. Because of the popular belief that "bigger is better" especially with women, all shapes and sizes are accepted, talked about, commented on, and almost NEVER lamented. After a week of "official function" eating 5 times a day, I gained some weight (I don't have a scale, but I feel my clothes fitting tighter). Today at work there were at least 10 people that commented on my "getting fatter," complimenting my weight gain. At one time there was even a group of 5 women grabbing, holding, and lovingly squeezing my arms, stomach, love handles, and butt while proclaiming how fat I've become. AND I'M NOT OFFENDED.

11. Little drops of sunshine! It's totally sunny, like I could get a sunburn.... but its raining on me, too. I love it! I really just stood out in the little drops of sunshine for like 10 minutes, enjoying the spectacle.

12. Students' motivation and desire to improve, learn, and grow is phenomenal. As an coach, educator, and even as a student in the States, I've NEVER seen such dedication as I have here. Students know that education is their key to success, so if they are in school, they make it their full time job to study, beginning sometimes at 5 am, and usually ending at 8pm.

13. Boni and Nicole are two amazing women I work with: they give me hope for this country and these people. Both are educated, motivated, powerful individuals, working tirelessly for the good of the Rwandan people. They develop materials to educate the people, organize their peers to create social change, all while nursing babies under the age of 1. And Nicole is studying for her Master's in Public Health. Very impressive women.
I should mention there are 60 fantastic individuals in our office (majority Rwandans and/or Africans), focusing all of their efforts on developing the region.

14.The youth of this nation really, truly give me hope for the country and continent. They know the ethnic differences that separate them, but don't believe that it is worth it to recognize those differences. They've seen the hate that tore this country apart, and choose not to repeat the mistakes of their forefathers.

It's not all sweet bananas and pleasant breezes

2011-03-16T23:20:00.001-07:00

I love Rwanda. Let me just say that. Africa is a wonderful place with lots to offer and wonderful people. But there are also things that get under my (already Africa-thickened) skin:

1. One cannot give compliments. It's very, VERY rare. They'd rather insult you as a joke and call it a good day. "Michele, why do you look like you just got out of bed? You look awful." "Go back to America, we don't want you here." Yes. Very Funny. Ha.

2. High power distance. People simply accept and unquestioningly yield to social status. The poor see themselves as less powerful, worthy, or influential. Not just accepting the rich as rich or the powerful as powerful. But also accepting yourself as powerless. Helpless. And insignificant. Unquestioningly. Just accepted.

3. A large measure of ignorance and a love of generalizations. "All white people have money, you can give me some, too." "You're intelligent because white people are rich and have no problems."

4. Girls, women, all females CANNOT whistle. Sometimes I do it any way, because its such a part of my family life (thanks, Dad) and I elicit looks and comments of horror and scandal!

5.The first thing asked of you is if you're married. Then, old men proceed to tell you if they weren't already married, they'd take you up! Young men say they're going to marry you. Its weird the first time. Funny the second. But just annoying thereafter.

6. Men and women can't be just friends. When ALL people adhere to this standard, keep this expectation, and act on it, there just aren't any men/women friendships. EVERY man and women only enter into a cross-gender relationship TO have sex. (Ok, not 100%, but the vast majority)

7. In everyone's claim to be super religious, pre-marital sex is harshly criticized. Young women that get pregnant without a husband are socially ostracized, gossiped about and can't really fit in to society as well as others.

8. Despite the above, an estimated 99% of teens and adults--married or not-- have sexual relations on a regular basis. They even tease, mock, and pressure those who don't. Young men will leave their girlfriends if they don't sleep with them. Girls are pressured by society, family, and friends to have a boyfriend and marry, so they feel trapped to sleep with a boyfriend or be left and consequently publicly disgraced.

9. Pretty much all married men also have a lover. Or 2. Or 3. on the side. Sometimes the wife knows who, sometimes not. But she pretty much takes it for granted that he's got someone else.

10.Rwandans--in general-- are very racist. The first thing they see is skin. Apparently, according to local belief, ALL people fit into two categories: Tutsi and Hutu (yes, 2 of the 3 ethnic groups terrorized by Genocide in 1994: Hutu majority slaughtered the Tutsi minority and any Hutu sympathizers). So, your average Rwandan will see a white person and categorize him as either a "White Tutsi" or a "White Hutu". Or about each other, "All Hutus lie!" or "All Tutsi are racist!" (I've heard BOTH in conversation)

11. Its normal, acceptable behavior to harass foreigners in the street. Not just begging, but mocking accents, pointing, staring, laughing at, and general rude (to a Western standard) behavior.

12. Rwandans don't like or trust foreigners. At first I wasn't sure. But I was told by 2 independent sources who are very trusted in my life, respected in the community, and honest people. Common Rwandans blame all white people for the Genocide. Other Africans are seen as leeches that have come to take from Rwanda.

13.When an outsider becomes very integrated into Rwandan culture and Rwandans recognize this, the FIRST quality is always the ability to lie. "Oh! That muzungu (white person) is soooo Rwandan: she knows how to lie!"

14. People do not help you out. Like if you're in trouble in the street, people would rather watch you get beaten, harassed, or abused than do anything about it.

15. People only seem to want you around as long as there is the hope of getting something from you: money. Marriage. Visa. Materials. Anything. Once they realize that you won't give, they're pretty much done with you. There are (thank God) some who are just nice people who are interested in your mind, heart, and thoughts, regardless of your giving or not giving.

16.People like to talk. They'll make a point. Then illustrate it. Then give an example. Then say it again in different words. Then give another example. Then explain what they mean. Then reiterate their point. And OMG its beating the danged dead horse over and over and over again. Meanwhile I can zone out and think about what I want to make for dinner and what I need to buy beforehand, contemplate my next steps in life, and remember pleasant family vacations from my youth. When I come to again, HE'S STILL MAKING HIS POINT.

Ok, my ranting is over. I promise to share all the things I love about this place, too. EVERY culture and country have good things and challenging things, and its beneficial to recognize both.

Wedding in Bungwe

2011-03-06T23:03:00.000-08:00

Every place I've ever lived I've been so blessed to have a family there. As part of global humanity (yes, I'm quite idealistic), I've always been able to find people around me that accept me as their own and make me part of their family, and they become part of mine. That said, this is my big sister's wedding.

The Civil Ceremony
Around noon Innocent (the groom) came to pick us up at Dative's (my sister's), house to go to the Sector Office (local authorities). He came in a rented car (very typical) with a camera man (also totally normal) to get Dative, her Matron of Honor (someone like a godmother, a necessity in every Rwandan wedding), and two bridesmaids (me and another Rwandan girl, a longtime friend of Dative's).

We sat and listened for an hour to the local authorities discuss what marriage is and each person's role: mostly about togetherness, sharing, and respect. One thing stood out to me: it is legally WRONG for either person to deny sex to his/her partner. Of course he had to use examples to illustrate each point he made, so he said, "Well, Dative, you're a nurse. You can't come home one day and say, 'No, not tonight, I healed so many people at work today, I'm exhausted.' Work is work, you have to do yours." (Work being his "polite" way of saying sex)

After listening and learning, each had to hold a corner of the Rwandan flag, hold up the right hand (yes, holding it up that high is the local fashion) and read a short text saying that they accept________ (spouse's name) as husband/wife forever, etc. They both sign, we all clap and congratulate, then go outside for picture taking, as seen here.

The Cow Giving Ceremony
From there we all piled back into the cars--there were 5 in our parade (one was a 24-seater bus full of his family members)--to go from the office to Bungwe (home) for the dowry ceremony. There, we girls went inside to change into traditional Rwandan clothes and wait for our cue to exit.

Meanwhile, the bride's family, friends, representatives, etc. are all sitting under the tents, waiting to accept the groom's family, friends, delegation, etc. Each group sits on different sides of the compound, each with specific people with roles in the ceremony. The most vocal are: the MC (if available, usually only richer people seem to have one), an elder from the girl's side who directs, narrates, etc.; an "old man" who speaks on behalf of the girl, and an "old man" who speaks on behalf of the guy.

As the man's family presents their request for their son to marry the other's daughter, giving gifts and kind words, the two "old men" talk, banter, make jokes, and discuss, all in the traditional effort of measuring the humor, intelligence, and wit of the other family to see if they're worthy of their son/daughter. Though I've never seen it, I've been told that weddings have been canceled/postponed because one side or the other (usually the bride's side) doesn't accept the other's offer.

Once the groom's family has made their offer, giving a hoe or two for farming, a jerry can for beer, and other traditional symbolic items, we get the piece de resistance: the cow. The going rate for a well-educated girl is a cow plus about 400,000RWF (about $800.00). Or the equivalent in just cash. (Though if they opt to give only cash, the groom and a small delegation will likely come before hand, as Innocent had done the week before)

This man in a white robe with a stick and grass in his hand is the official Cow Inspector, or Singer of Cow Praises. He has (presumably) seen, inspected, and deemed the cow worthy of the dowry, and is now singing its praises into the microphone, so everyone knows its a good cow.

Let's say the old man from the groom's side is really witty and funny, and the old man from the bride's side gets along really well with him: the bride's family accepts the groom's offer. They ask for the name of the girl he wants to marry, he says it and they agree, they have a daughter by that name. So they bring out..... two little girls about 5 years old! Everyone laughs, the groom says, "No, not THAT Dative, the OTHER Dative!" its all a great joke (that happens at EVERY wedding) and everyone loves how cute the girls are.

More witty banter, more long winded speeches, and lots of happy people, THEN they call out the bride. She comes out with her attendants, each of them holding a symbolic traditional gift for a member of the groom's family: there's always a basket for the mom, a woven grass rug for an elder, a hat and cane for the dad, and a secret for the groom--I think its underwear.

The groom also has attendants with gifts for the bride's family and for the bride. The ceremony of giving gifts culminates in him giving her a bouquet of flowers with an engagement ring in a miniature basket tucked inside the flowers (Dative's is a gorgeous golden ring elegantly set with a giant diamond).

More speeches, witty banter, and long-winded African speeches about the families and togetherness (well, not too long: since all the work is done now everyone wants to get a move on!) and we eat a feast. The bride's family gives the groom's family some more drinks as gifts to take with them, and there's more jokes and laughter; here the old man said his girl the nurse (Dative) has provided some good medicine to heal any problem: wine, beers, and local equivalents to vodka.

Then the wedding is over, the bride and groom are officially married, and we all get to go home. But not before the two of them come inside with the elders in their family for a bottle of champagne and more drinks.

I loved being with my big sister to support and help her with such a big step in life. (I also loved feeling like a My-Size Barbie doll playing dress up. LOVED IT!)

Kigali Life

2011-02-21T05:16:00.000-08:00

Now that I've extended my service for a 3rd year as a Peace Corps Volunteer, I'm working in an actual western office in Kigali, the capital of Rwanda. I work 8am-5pm at CHF International, an NGO (non-government organization) in operation all over the world. In Rwanda, we're working on the Higa Ubeho program:

Over the life of the program, orphans and other vulnerable children (OVC) and people living with HIV and AIDS and their families will be encouraged to utilize the available community-based services to live a more productive life. This includes helping vulnerable youth to access life skills education, and peer mentoring activities that will enable them to go to school, to stay in school, and to perform well in school. USAID/Higa Ubeho plans to work with 240 schools in 10 districts to help vulnerable youth to set personal goals for their future, and to identify and reach out to trusted adults and peers for support to overcome key challenges.

I develop materials to send out to these OVC to inspire them: we're working on after school empowerment clubs for these youth, along with different "summer camps," newsletters, radio programs, and comic books to reach communities all over the country.

My typical day (such a change from the bush village in the middle of nowhere--where I lived for the past 2.5 years) includes the rush to get on a 21-seater van, with elbows flying and people in business suits slyly trying to squeeze you out of their way. After securing a butt cheek on a squished seat, I have to really pay attention to where we are or I may miss my stop. I have to look out the window, recognize my stop, knock on the window with a coin so they know I want to stop, they pull over, people have to get up out of their seats to let me by (think of those long car trips with kids in the back, back seat...), I pay the 120 francs (about $0.25 US dollars) then have a short walk on a dusty drive.

Our office is an actual, Western office where we dress well, have meetings, luncheons, email, post documents, update our partners, and negotiate the terms of things. All very official business.

My home--the Bungalow-- is a small, 3 bedroom, white-washed house on a family compound. I even have electricity, running water and....A SHOWER! Like I said, a real step up from the mud brick house I've been living in.

The coolest thing is using my past experiences in ways that even my colleagues can't share. Because I've lived and taught in rural African villages, I can share the challenges that local teachers, students, and community members face, making me capable of describing the viability of our proposed projects and materials. (you see how official office language is getting to me?!)

Meanwhile, I keep in touch with my friends and family in the village, getting all the latest gossip and visiting with close friends.

Each step in my Peace Corps life has prepared me for the next, making me a more productive and informed team member. I look forward to what's next!

Love, From Bungwe

2010-11-24T12:53:00.000-08:00

Some of the teachers I worked with this year sitting infront of our administration offices at school.

the kids are playing on what the adults use to move some of the heavier things around town or down the mountains.

Motos are the best way to get around all the huge hills of the "Highlands" in Rwanda. One America Day there happened to be 5 of us roving about the hills all together.

This is a really typical "Highlands" village tucked between hills, shrouded in trees, covered either in dust or mud depending on the season.

These are the fields (crops of corn, wheat, beans, peas, potatos, or tea) and valleys we have to go through in the "Highlands" (so called because we're the hightest elevations in Rwanda--Bungwe is one of the highest in the region at 3,000m)

Leaving Bungwe with all the love and good wishes from my villagers included thanking and regifting a few kilos of sweet potatoes, hurridly eating a gigantic bunch of bananas, and the moto being 30 minutes late.

Since I'm helping for 3 weeks with our newest group of trainees (they've been here 1 month!), I had to pack all I'd need for now, leaving the rest of my stuff locked in my house for my eventual move to Kigali (the capital). That means a backpacking backpack stuffed full of 3 weeks of professional clothes, work out stuff, and the most important things I own, strapped down to the back of my moto, and me leaning against it on our 1 hour motorcycle ride down, up, across, down, and up the mountains.

You'd think its pretty simple: sit on a moto and enjoy the scenery. No. Of course I'm all emotional because I just said good bye to my closest family and friends in Bungwe, and am leaving behind a year's worth of fun, laughter, hard work, and effort. So I start singing to myself ("Leaving on a Jet Plane") and my moto guy decides HE needs to sing too. In Kinyarwanda. Loudly. So, before I know it, we're singing the latest Rwandan pop songs as loud as we can, zooming down the mountain roads, dodging children in awe that there's a muzungu, and startling people as they hear and see a muzungu girl crazily coasting on by singing in their language at the top of her lungs. Phew!

Naturally we have to take breathers to think about the next song and maybe catch a bit of our sanity. In these breaks I hear the hysteric calls of children near the road, enticing their friends to come see the white girl: "Dore muzuuuuungu!!!" (There is a white person!!!). Or elderly people sharing their shock and calling to God that a white girl is on a moto: "Mana yanjye! Reba muzungu!" (Oh, my God! Look at the white person!)

Sometimes our singing was interrupted because of the holes and ditches in the roads. The entire hour ride down, up, across, down and back up the mountains is on a dirt road that may or may not be smooth and/or passable in less than perfect conditions. That's when the nifty little handle on the bottom of the seat is quite necessary so I don't fall of the moto.

Finally, after experiencing some amount of exasperation, joy, fear, sadness, excitement, and meloncholy on my last moto ride through the unbelievably steep and beautiful mountains of Northern Rwanda, we made it to the big city. Byumba has restaurants, internet, paved roads, buses, and lots of people. From here it was 1 rainy hour on a winding paved road to the capital and authentic Chinese food (they ran out of dumplings because their dumpling chef went to visit family in China. Good for him, bad for me).

Only 3 more weeks and I'll be visiting family, too.

Bye, bye Bungwe.

Just another day in Paradise

2010-10-01T05:37:00.000-07:00

The road infront of our house.

This is our walkway at the house: my house is on the right, my host parents Gaspard and Donatha live on the left.

The kids love to play on these bike-like things, but the men use them for transporting goods. One of the things I have to dodge on my way to school in the morning.

So for those of you who don't know what its like to live in an African bush village.... We have no electricity, so we have to maximize our sunlight usage, beginning at 5:00am! I'm up just before the sun, going around my little house in the dark to get ready for a run. I leave the house to find the roads surprisingly busy with early morning risers on their way to farm, walking and talking in groups in teh pre-morning sun glow. (They LOVE that I run, always greeting me; one guy even saw me later and thanked me for inspiring him to continue those tough mornings when he just doesn't feel like getting up. go figure!)

After that shockingly cold bucket bath in my living room and maybe some light cleaning around the house, I HAVE to have my morning cup of tea at Brandine's Bar. The 5 minute walk to the cafe usually takes me about 15-20 minutes as I stop to greet, chat, and shake people's hands.

By then i'm inevitable like 5 minutes late to school, which doesn't really matter because nothing starts on time here (except maybe the buses) so my coworkers are still in the staff lounge, kids are still outside of classrooms. The teaching--if thats what you call laughing and having a good time with a group of teenagers--is awesome! My students are all like 16-22 years old, some older, maybe 1 or 2 younger, but all a blast to be with. They are very bright, curious, easy to laugh at/with, and we've all fallen into stride. They did really well on similes and metaphores looking at Paul Simon's "Bride Over Troubled Water." They caught on to using context for discovering vocabulary and meaning with "The Boy Who Cried Wolf." And they totally blew me away with their song creations about love and friendship.

Usually lunch is at school, a crazy mad dash for the daily beans and potatoes.

Lately I've been having my after lunch cup of tea at Brandine's bar, giving me more time to greet people and bond with the village. Once school ends at 4:30pm, its more dillydallying, greeting, walking down our one street, talking to people, seeing students that have left campus for one reason or another, and slowly making my way home. Usually I'm home by like 6pm, just in time for the sun to set and for dinner to start cooking. I love spending my evenings either hanging out with some of the nurses who live down the street or chatting away with my host mom
(one of the most impressive women I've ever met in my life: farms in the am, school secretary all day, milks the cows, cooks, and cleans in the pm. Studies university on weekends, and has political meetings 2-3 times a month as the women's representative. 5 languages, local leader, yet takes time to talk and bond with me. Love her!)

After the local readio station broadcasts the news in English, and maybe some journaling or reading by candle light, its bed time by 9pm.

One year of this and I've only got a few weeks left. I'm going to miss it so much!

Some of my teacher friends relaxing on our bench outside. Good times and some crazy conversations.

Home, Sweet, Home: Bungwe

2010-09-18T13:14:00.000-07:00

Arrived: 30 December 2009
Left: 19 November 2010

One year in Bungwe:

freezing rain water bucket baths
no electricity
stopping in the middle of my lesson because the loud rain on tin roofs
cooking on charcoal fires
milk and tea bar, almost like Starbucks!
muddy roads
squatty potties ie) a hole in the ground
boiled beans and potatoes... every day.

greeting EVERY person in the street
school children staring at me, saying "good morning" at all times, and running up from behind to touch my hair
knowing everyone in my community, and then some
everyone knowing me
children playing in the street, but stopping to run up and hug me
motorcycle rides for an hour through scenery you can only dream of

good eats

2010-07-09T13:06:00.000-07:00

Rabbit is a common meat in Bungwe; they're small enough --and quick enough in reproducing-- that you can eat it in a day. Cows would be too much meat and money for our little village. I think I can get goat or sheep meat at our market--Tuesdays only, when I'm working!

In my front yard we planted irish potatoes and carrots under the papaya tree. The dark spots on the left are the holes we dug to put manure (fresh from our cows!) and the potatoes in. On the right are the rows of freshly planted carrots.

Ardo is 100% afraid of my hair (he calls it bugs) and is the cutest little helper. He's the youngest of 4 and loves to help my friend Marita (his mom) peel irish potatoes. At 2 years old.

My mom is cooking dinner! This is a cement stove she uses fire wood with to cook quickly-- quickly compared to the small square stove in the foreground that uses charcoal. The pot is upside down to act as a lid to help the food cook even quicker.

I uncovered the pot! Inside: beans, veggies, and sweet potatoes covered in banana leaves to cook even more efficiently.

Lunch at school: they bring out big pots of beans with the occasional vegetable in it. This is another teacher helping me by holding the pot up while I scoop onto my plate.

My food! Today was my favorite: rice and beans with some lettuce. Yummy!

A typical day I'll eat a piece of bread with tea (Rwandan tea leaves, water, milk, and plenty of sugar; the African way) that I buy and enjoy at one of our 4 cafes in town. I usually go to Brandine's as she's got the most centrally located cafe (across the street from the health center) she's my good friend (I put her pic up somewhere on one of these blog entries), and EVERYONE goes there (nurses crack me up: they begin work at 7am, then around 8:30 or 9 they just sort of start wandering over like 1 or 2 at a time for tea).
Lunch starts at 12:25 at school, but the kitchen staff usually brings out the food like 1:00. I grab my plate (bought it at a boutique down the street) and spoon, keep them in the desk I'm sitting and grading at, and as soon as I see the food train come in the door, I grab my utinsils, rush over to beat the crowd, and get the "muzungu" status: they don't push me out of the way, but wait till I finish serving myself before slapping hands out of the way and letting hunger get the better of them. Usually (like 99.5% of the time) we have beans and irish potatoes (basically smaller, round potatoes compared to russet). Sometimes we get cabbage, carrots, or shallots chopped up in the bean sauce, too! Or we get ubugali, a flour and water mixture traditionally eaten with the fingers. But, as soon as the kitchen guys bring in our 3 huge pots of food, its a mad rush of teachers to crowd around, push, shove, and try to get food on our plates (and the floors, tables, and chairs...) Some surprises you may find in the beans: stems, sand, pebbles.
If I want a snack later I might get a hard boiled egg, bread, or tea at Brandine's Bar again.
Dinner is with my best friend in the village or my host family: any variety of french fries (potatoes pulled fresh from the front yard, washed, peeled, fried and enjoyed), rice, boiled bananas (also taken from some local source), beans (definitely grown in our back yard), shallots (even I can pick these: they grow on a vine holding up our fence around the house), and some sort of tomato based sauce.
I love it! Its all so simple and I've never been so regular in 2 years (hmmm.... fancy that! The time I've been in Africa= the time I've not been... "regular") I could eat beans, rice and fries every day.
Sometimes we have milk as a snack or soured milk as a meal. yes, soured milk. It is delicious! In West Africa they put some sugar in it, but here they just drink it straight.
Its a simple diet, but delicious.

Use Water Wisely!

2010-06-04T14:41:00.000-07:00

We Californians are always being warned of the water shortage, especially in So Cal, and people are advised to cut water usage by running sprinklers at night, turning off faucets, etc. Even my title "Use Water Wisely" is stolen from my 5th grade poster competition to encourage students to conserve water. Oh, California! This is how I now have to get, use, and conserve my water:

1. I put a bucket under my roof to collect rain water.
2. Water is poured with a pitcher into the "inside" bucket, leaving out any bugs, leaves, or dirt that made their way in.
3. An old shampoo bottle (1/3L)serves as my "shower" to best control the flow's amount and aim.
4. I usually leave about 1/8 of the bottle full to effectively wash some underwear.
5. Rwandan women--and myself--bathe in the saloon/living room so that AFTER bathing, we use the water on the floor to CLEAN the floors.
6. On hair washing days, I double the amount of water I use (up to almost 1L!) but am very controlled, keeping it in a bucket. Once my hair is clean, I use the same water to wash like 3-4 shirts. Then wash the walls and/or dishes and/or toilet.

Ok, so to be fair if I were cooking daily (I eat at school for lunch and with friends for dinner) I'd use much more water, but with this method I survive on like 1 liter per day (washing hands or random utensils adds up, too!)

PS I won the poster contest in my 5th grade classroom, continuing to the school district or something. But I cheated. My mom drew the poster, I just colored it in. (ah! I feel much better now that's off my chest! Does my 5th grade teacher read this?)

Grades in Rwanda

2010-06-04T14:01:00.000-07:00

First of all, our grades are done by hand. So in the first trimester I had my little print out of all my students (9 classes, 400 students), complete with little scribbles, crossing outs, side notes, and a pronunciation guide (can you imagine trying to call out names like: Ndasengirumva, Umugwaneza, Irakizamugisha, or Nyiransabimana say them: ...oh, gosh, never mind!) Then I was shamed when all the students want to see their grades and condescendingly look at my scrappy grading sheet. But that was the least of my problems.

After weekly writing assignments, reading each of my 400 students' papers individually and giving out grades for all of them, we were asked to prepare grades before finals. Of course. No problem! But because I teach each class for 2 hours a week, the grades have to be out of 20. Oh. Alright, I can understand its a different system. I get it. And I have to give each of my classes' grades to a different teacher: Each class has a teacher that collects the grades from the other teachers, hand copies the students' grades onto one master sheet per class, then gives THAT to the secretary to type into the school's ONE computer. Right. NO mistakes, I'm sure...

Then, after finals, we have to finish administering tests (different tests for each class, as the kids are allowed to take the test with them when they finish writing their answers onto the provided papers) so that kids can't cheat, we have until Monday to turn in our final grades. I was so ready! 20 point scale! Done! I had my classwork numbers added to my exam numbers, averaged out, calculated, and changed to a 20 point scale, hand written for each student, and given to the appropriate teacher. Oh, but they didn't tell me is 20 points for CLASSWORK and 20 separate points for FINAL EXAMS. ARGH! My students already lost or gained points in my changing scales, "translating" numbers, and doing weird math things to it!

So, unfortunately, some of my grades, well like 99% of them, were WRONG on students' report cards. I'm only totally embarrassed, but the KIDS are haranguing me about what the proper grade should be, and "Teacher! What's wrong with my marks?!" when can they be fixed? how will you fix them? and on and on! And I don't blame them! I'd be totally upset if my grade was lower than what I actually earned in any class!

This trimester I'm ready. I've planned out how many quizzes to give to fit the 20 point scale, when to give them to best prepare students, and just be on top of my game! 5 quizzes this trimester, 4 points each, no problem. Until they just asked for the first quarter of the trimester grade reports. Sigh. Really? So my kids have just one quiz, tongue twisters (graded on pronunciation, capacity to adjust with my help, volume, presentation, and composure). 4 points. So I had to readjust my scaling. Again. Wow.

The good news is that the kids just think I'm a funny American and are pretty forgiving. Teachers must think I'm totally incompetent. And at the end of the day I'm still laughing... at myself!

Just a try

2010-05-07T07:03:00.000-07:00

So, I'm jsut throwing this out there: if you want a high school pen pal in Rwanda, there are hundreds--and then some-- that would absolutely LOVE to have someone to practice their writing with!

(Now I don't have to lie when they ask if I've tried or not... ;)

Memorial Week in Rwanda

2010-04-16T01:26:00.000-07:00

We're at the end of our 2 weeks of spring break. I wanted to go traveling, but from April 7th to the 13th we also had the National Week of Mourning for the 1994 genocide and I wanted to be in my village with them to experience it and support them. So some of the other PCVs went to Ethiopia, Kampala (Uganda), or others' villages, but I enjoyed just being in the village with my local friends.

Every day for a week people could only work in the mornings, each afternoon people would group together according to oumoudougoudou (say it: oo-moo-DO-goo-do, all the same "ooo" vowel sound, it means neighborhood) and local officials (like my host mom, the district secretary!) would read things from the government that prevent, fight against, and deal with genocide and its lasting effects. This year's theme was fighting against trauma, which they say 2/3 of the population suffers from.

I was told by my neighbor that our village is a Hutu majority (not the group targeted in the genocide) and they were almost all in refugee camps abroad during the majority of the war so very few people were killed from our village. This means there were no traumatic outbursts from people during the memorial week, unlike the majority of the country where people would randomly start screaming, crying, throwing themselves down, and remembering the horrors they went through. There are a few of my friends in the village NOT from Bungwe, but married local men or moved here for work; these women are the ones that HAVE suffered and some of them told me their story. Wow. I don't know how they have found the strength to continue, but somehow they do, and they're even doing really well. For this I really admire the strides this country and these poeple take to rebuild themselves and find new meaning in life. It's obviously really hard still, but they put a great smile on thier faces and continue on so well!

Since I hate being alone all the time and once the sun goes down (at like 6:30pm) I'm all alone in my little house, I spent the night at my friends house (a local house for the un-wed female workers far from home, like a boarding house for professional women) each night to hang out, cook, eat, and be with them. It was really fun to live with locals again! Then every afternoon I went to the oumoudougoudou discussions with a few of the other women in my neighborhood. During the day it was so weird to walk around our usually vibrant village and find it totally empty, like a ghost town. Maybe one or two little kids playing in the road, or a man carrying wood on his head, but basically barren.

So after the Memorial Week I hopped on a litte motorcycle--the only way down the mountain-- (as pictured here) and came to the capital city of Kigali:

no more locally farmed beans, potatoes, or carrots; no more papaya from my front yard for breakfast, no more milk and tea from our little restaurant (as seen here!) for snack. We have wireless internet at this little Americanesque cafe where we can order hamburgers, fries, cookie dough ice cream, pizza and beers! Have a happy day!

First Day

2010-04-02T08:03:00.000-07:00

This is from a letter:
The first day of school I got up at 7am, got ready, and at 7:45 I asked my host mom if she was ready: school starts at 8am! But, she was gone! Did she go that early to school? Without me?!! So I ask my host dad and he says she left, but we don’t have work until 9am: it’s the first day of school after all, so everyone goes in late. Ok. So I wait. At 8am my mom calls me, saying let’s go. We get there, she goes to her office since she’s the secretary, and I’m lost. I don’t have a schedule, I don’t know where the classrooms are, I’m ready to teach, and have NO IDEA what’s going on. I tell this to my host mom and the Counselor/ vice principal, saying they have to tell me exactly what I have to do because the first day of school in America is (already) really different. The VP says I have to prepare lessons and teach. HAHA.
I’m sitting in the staff lounge when the other English teacher comes in so I tell her I’m lost. She explains to me the big chart on the wall: my classes! I’m supposed to teach 15 hours a week, with Mondays off—according to our contract and the principal. But I’m only teaching 6 hours! I ask her what we’re doing today, she says we look at the curriculum for our classes, make a syllabus, and prepare our lessons. But I did that 2 weeks ago! And the classrooms, they have no labels! WHERE do I teach?! She says she’ll show me.
Finally, ready to admit defeat for the day, I just ask, “Will I teach today?” She says, “No.” students are either at the bank paying school fees, cleaning out the classrooms and dorms, or still making their way here. Teachers are getting their class schedules, looking at the national requirements and preparing their lessons. I’m confused. It’s the FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL! I’ll just call it the first day of PLANNING school. I was so ready to teach!
It only took us 2 weeks to get into the swing of things! School “started” February 2nd, and by Feb 16th we had a schedule. February 24 we had a final schedule.
So, kids stay in THEIR classrooms, teachers rotate to them on the bell (an old tire rim and a rock) every 50 minutes with no passing period. Just go and show up. If you find another teacher in the classroom still, it is proper etiquette to just wait until they finish. You never kick out another teacher! Oh, and if it’s raining we don’t teach! This morning it was raining before school started and I was worried that I’d be late to school. I got there at 8:10 with another teacher, only 10 minutes after classes start…. We were the first ones there. If its raining, teachers don’t come! They say they can’t teach over the noise of the rain on the tin roofs! I just gave my students an essay so they don’t have to hear me, just sit and write.
If I’m not being the “strange/cool/funny muzungu English teacher” in front of my 40+ students (in one class) then I’m in the teacher’s lounge: all 22 of us teachers share one room 6 yards by 8 yards, 5 tables, 4 benches, and cubby boxes for each one of us. We can plug in our phones to the one power strip, type (not print or surf the web) on our 1980’s reject computer-donation from Germany (I just deleted some company’s back up files—all in German) We usually listen to 1. Religious songs in Kinyarwanda cheesey videos, or 2. Pop songs in Kinyarwanda with sexy videos. Usually the SAME song will play for like 20-30 minutes. Daily. The SAME one! (I thank God I don’t understand Kinyarwanda that well). This is our only teacher space, so we sit, prepare, talk, eat lunch, grade, EVERYTHING in this room. We get teacher lunch every day but it costs 1,500F, about $3 a month.
We also have to wear white lab coats to teach in. And bring our own chalk. If I have to erase anything on the board, one of the kids hops up, gets the eraser from me and erases for me! Kids usually have one text book per class, one is in charge of it, writes the assigned pages on the board, and the others will copy down what s/he writes into their notebooks. They just copy text books into their notes! That’s all they can do! Kids are also in charge of their own cleaning: sweeping classrooms, cleaning bathrooms, maintaining the grounds, cleaning everything. Usually the poor kids that can’t afford school fees work off their debt. So Wednesday afternoons we have off: I find many kids digging, planting flowers, sweeping, etc. They all have a job, including one lucky kid that gets to ring the bell each day…aka hit a big rock against a tire rim in the middle of the school yard every 50 minutes to mark the beginning and end of each class.
I love it!

2010-03-12T03:56:00.000-08:00

Our school is on one of the thousand Rwandan hills, but lovely!

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All 20 of us teacher share this "teachers' lounge": we keep our books, papers, and supplies in the cupboards on the left. This is our only space so we share benches and tables to plan lessons, grade papers, eat our meals, EVERYTHING. See the white lab coats we have to wear?!

This is our 80's reject computer in our lounge. I just deleted some back-up files for some German company to try to clear up the mess. We have no internet and no printer (not that they know how to use either one...) so we use it to watch music videos (over and over and over again...they put it on repeat for like an hour at a time!): usually a religious one with cheesy effects or a pop video with a woman in a leotard, shaking around, trying to be sexy, and singing "oh, la, la! ma cherie!"

Our school has pigs! Just next to the 4th year students' classrooms. There are apparently some cows and fields the next hill over.

March 8th was International Woman's Day! All of the student clubs (and there are MANY) prepared something, so these are girls doing traditional Rwandan dances. Their arms are up to represent the cow--Rwandan (and it seems African) symbol of wealth.

2010-03-07T00:20:00.000-08:00

This is my neighbor's house, one of the best made homes in the area: rocks, read bricks, roofing tiles! A veritable palace!

Typical Rwandan hills. You can see the early morning fog, all the little houses made of mud bricks, and banana trees.

This is my kitchen: home made mud bricks, eucalyptus branches for the frame, and zinc roofing.

Inside our very typical kitchen: we have 2 cement based stoves used for cooking with fire wood, 2 portable metal stoves for cooking with charcoal, our fire wood in the corner, and a bench for sitting on. Since everyone stays in their homes at night, I spend most of my evenings (after 6:30 pm when it gets dark) in the kitchen with my host mom peeling, chopping, cutting, washing, stoking the fire, talking and laughing. I love it!

My friend's host mom and I are eating the food of our labor: ubugali (say it: oo0boo-garr-ee), a totally Rwandan dish made of flour and water, traditionally eaten with your finger. You dip a bit in a tomato-meat sauce and enjoy! Most westerners don't really like it, but I absolutely LOVE it. Maybe because it reminds me Mauritania (eating with the hands) AND Latin America (like masa or tortillas!)

2010-02-18T00:11:00.000-08:00

I want to start a library in Apapeduc High School where I'll be teaching English for the next year.

I am still a Peace Corps Volunteer, but I've relocated from Mauritania to Rwanda, East Africa to teach English. The national government has recently changed the national language of instruction from French to English and you can imagine the chaos that has ensued (imagine the USA decided one year to change all schools from English to Chinese, it'd be crazy!)

Following the 1992-1994 Civil War that culminated in the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi minority, the current Rwandan Government has made ambitious goals in order to modernize, stabilize, create lasting peace, and promote reconciliation within the country. “Vision 2020” includes environmental, hygienic, and educational reforms, including changing the national language of instruction from French to English last year, obligating untrained professors to teach un-exposed students in a language no one knows. Which is where I come in: I am teaching English in Bungwe (say it: BOON-gway), a small hubbub community in the mountains of northern Rwanda.

In my quest to promote English education, a love of reading, exposure to new ideas, and an appreciation of global affairs, I realize I cannot do this alone. Though locals and my fellow teachers support my ideas and are beyond grateful for the giving of my time and skills, they are limited by illiteracy, lack of electricity, means and funds. Parents themselves show intense interest in their children’s education as every Saturday finds them voluntarily carrying bags of sand and rocks—on their heads—from the quarry to the site of new classrooms being built. With the guidance of paid engineers, the community is literally building their classrooms. The government gives some monetary assistance, parents build schools with their own hands, I am offering my skills, and students are willing and (so) excited to learn. But it's not enough.

If you feel that you would like to be part of our team effort to educate, facilitate peace, and promote understanding, do not (yet) give us your money... we need books! The “old school” ink and paper has yet to infiltrate rural Rwanda, has not yet blessed a population with the wealth of knowledge held within. Bungwe has an elementary school and two secondary schools (high schools) serving thousands of students and locals, yet has no library, no books (besides sub-par text books in French). Literally any book in English will contribute to Rwanda’s goal of learning this international language, and my hopes of a profound appreciation of learning.

Thank you for considering Bungwe, the development of young minds, the hope and future of a recovering country.

Feel free to look at my blog: bololam.blogspot.com
or call/skype me: 00 250 78 597-9354
(be patient, the network is horrible!)

Sending with a flat-rate box (available at the post office) is cheapest:
Michele Hernandez, PCV
Apapeduc Secondary School
P.O. Box 72
Byumba, Rwanda
East Africa

Include a list of costs and it can be tax deductable!

2010-01-22T00:32:00.001-08:00

Bungwe (say it: BOONG-way), my new home is fabulous so far. It's amazing for me to see what good land does! I just moved into my new house: it has three bedrooms, a living room, two-room outdoor kitchen, out door toilet, and out door shower room. This is the family toilet, which is just like mine: planks of wood, mud/poop brick walls, tree branches supporting zinc a roof, and half sheets of paper for wiping (usually we have printing mistakes or graded papers--my favorite is graded papers as they're much softer:) ) My house is in the same compound as my landlord and his wife (the school secretary) and so far I've been eating with them too. Their food is so good! All fresh, farmed on their land, and cooked by the secretary. We have corn, beans, and peas in the fields down the mountain where others work the land for them; carrots, onions, thyme, and more corn in our front yard, along with one giant avocado tree; and in the BACK yard is more corn, veggies, banana trees (heavy bunches of bananas are ripe like 5 times a year), avocados trees (in season NOW!), tree tomatoes (disgusting), papayas (I've never really had fresh papaya before Rwanda), peas and beans growing up the stalks of corn (that we pick at 11am, prepare at noon, and eat by 1pm!) and the most gorgeous view of the valley thousands of feet below us (The mountainsides are checkered in contoured lines of farms, fields, and growing foods... Uganda is only 3 hilltops over... and this is all in our backyard!)

We also have a cow, her (recently impregnated) daughter, and a 4-month old calf. The cool thing, besides having fresh milk DAILY, is that this cow makes 9 liters of milk A DAY. So every morning a representative from my host mom's milk cooperative comes around and buys the morning milking from her; after the evening milking she uses the milk for us, to sour it (like yogurt!), to make oil (rich, pure oil!), butter (fresh and delicious), lotion (actually just butter but they use it as body lotion...gives you an interesting smell being covered in butter), or cheese (I taught her how to make cheese!) either for us to use or to sell to the neighbors.

Ok, so the common practice is to let your beans and peas grow and dry in your field, pick them, then bring them home in big bundles, set them on the ground and beat them. Since the shells are dried, they fall right off, leavingh the beans/peas behind and easy to collect. With all of the food stuffs we produce, our household is literally self-sufficient! The only things that my host mom has to buy are clothes, shoes, meat, and trasportation!

Oh! Transportation! To get here today, to this computer in Kigali (the capitol), I walked to my neighbor's house, found the bicycle taxis infront, got on the little padded seat behind the rider, and we coasted down the mountain to the next big town. I did have to get off at one point where everyone walks for like 20 steps until we get over a little up-hill portion of the road. Then I hopped on this motorcycle (VERY common way to travel) for 45 minutes to the neareset major city (bumpy dirt roads, hugging the mountainside, with sheer cliffs in some places, towns in others, and random people walking everywhere), walked to the "bus station" (a big empty dirt lot in the middle of town), asked for the bus to Kigali, then sat and waited inside of an 18-seater van filled with 21 people. Countless curves, elbows in my face and sides, and one hour later, we arrived in Kigali. Ahhhh! But only for a second! Everyone immediatly notices the two muzungus (moo-ZOON-goo) aka white people, arriving at this bus stop (another empty dirt/mud lot just outside of town) and we are totally bombarded by taxi drivers, yelling people, and confusion as we try to hold on to our bags, make our way to the bus we KNOW we need, and make sure we stay together (I'm with my friend Charissa).

And voila! We are in our Peace Corps office! Enjoy!

Being in Site

2010-01-09T01:09:00.000-08:00

You know when you think of Peace Corps that its like this idea of living in some bush village in the middle of nowhere, with witch doctors, straw huts, half naked people, and bugs for breakfst? But then many are dissapointed when they are are set up in a real cement house with running water, electricity, a cook and cleaner? Well.... I'm somewhere in between: my house is made of mud and cow poop bricks. We have one spigot for the neighborhood (20 liters of water cost 25 francs, about 2 cents). The sun is up at 5:15am and down at 6:30pm, (that's my light!) then we use a gas lamp to eat dinner by. Everything we eat is harvested by my host family: potatoes, onions, tomatos, beans, peas, carrots, avocados, and bananas. That's what we eat. Every day.

So, I'm supposed to have my own little house but its not ready yet. For the next two weeks I'm living with my landlord and his wife (my school's secretary). Their house is on the same compound as my little house, so I get to look at my little house every day, but not move in to it yet! There's a cow (she makes 9 liters of milk a day!) and she has 2 babies; two teenage boys that have been sent by their families to live with and work for my host family; and we have a garden in the front yard.

Ok, Bungwe (say it boong-way) is my village: literally just the top of the mountain crest, running the entire length of it. One road across the center of the crest and a row of houses on either side of it. I'll be teaching English in one of the 2 high schools, giving lessons to the primary school teachers, nurses, and locals. I was thinking about helping them start their library: they're getting it built, but have NO books. (Want to donate some? Just send them over!;) )

Its really cold, so good for making cheese (I made some last week!); we only cook by charcoal and/or wood, so it warms me up; and its GORGEOUS in Bungwe. Fields, trees, all kids of vegetation on the mounain sides, 30 minute walk to Uganda, 9,000 ft elevation, (oh, that reminds me! the other night I watched lightning roll in... to the valley BELOW us! Lightning was at my eye level, we're so high up!) and so far so good.

I don't know what that nun was thinking of!

Being on National News

2009-12-24T00:27:00.000-08:00

Swear in went well: Kevin and I spoke in Kinyarwanda, Julie Ann spoke in French, and Katy spoke in English. Katy and I wore umushananas (oo-moo-SHA-nah-nah) for our speeches, they're native clothing that are basically a bunchy skirt worn really high on the waist, and a tank top because the top is this toga-style, tied on one shoulder, rectangular fabric draped over the body.

After our little ceremony, speeches, and thanking everyone for our training, two reporters asked to interview me for the Rwandan news! One was from the newspaper and we were in the next day's news. And the other--the TV crew-- asked me questions, had me speaking English and Kinyarwanda, and asked me some questions about training and such. The next day we were on the TV! I was out with my friend Alphonsine visiting her family when we got some phone calls from people congratulating us on on our Kinyarwanda skills on TV... kind of embarrassing that the whole country has seen/heard me speaking their language after only 10 weeks of lessons, but totally cool too! The family we were with has a TV, but no cable so we couldn't watch the news and see me flapping my gums.

Afterwards, we were in Kigali and I stayed with Charissa to meet the family of the roommate of her friend in Colorado. They lived in America for 21 years, came back to Rwanda, he is like the diretor of an international ONG in Rwanda, and she runs an orphanage. Their three kids live in the US: one in Cali, one in Colorado, and one in Pennsylvania (I think) the Californian is in town and we got to meet him! and... we speak better kinyarwanda than him! Its sooooo weird! Like the whole night, the parents were totally flabbergasted at the Kinyarwanda we speak! It was really funnny to watch her crack up at our language skills and her disbelief that these two white girls can speak her language and she understands it.

When we got back to our training site, we literally stepped off the bus when we were greeted by a lady walking by who said she saw me on TV and congratulated us on our Kinyarwanda skills. Every once in a while, while traveling, or going around town people will say that they saw us on TV.

As if being the "muzungu" (white people) wasn't enough reason to stare at us, now we're TV stars! ;)

Gacaca Courts

2009-12-15T07:43:00.000-08:00

---Could be unsuitable for children---

On our way to the market, Clementine* tells me to stop on our way by some groups of people sitting under trees; turns out it was the Gacaca (ga-cha-cha) courts hearing the accused killers from the 1994 Genocide and the charges against them. 5 Judges sat on a wooden bench, people were crowded around under the tree, and one person was standing, defending his/her case. Clementine translated for me: one woman--dressed in regular, daily clothing--was accused of entering a home with her group of killers and killing an elderly mother laying on a mattress. One of the victim's daughters--who is now about 40 years old--was filing the complaint. After hearing both sides the panel of five judges (ranging in age from 25 to 40) said that since the mother's mattress is missing, the one who killed her must have taken it. The daughter was literally trying to kill the accused with her eyes and body language as the accused woman walked to her spot on the grass.

Then they moved on: a man (who wasn't present, so was represented by his 31 year old daughter) was charged with violent crimes during the War (Genocide): having people take all of their things to his house then back at their home killing them all; or brutally murdering masses of people without any problem. The victim (their representative) first had the accused (well, his representative) move to the other side of the clearing, claiming that she can't be near violent people like these unforgiving types. Then she asked the accused's daughter (treating her as if SHE were the one who committed crimes, not her father) if her father was a killer. She said, "Not that I know of. But since all of these people say he is, maybe he is." Then everyone in the crowd was saying things like, "You were 16 during the war, you should know!" A woman testified that she saw the man killing; the head judge announced that if anyone will testify that this woman is lying, than the charge would be dismissed. No one did, showing the people's agreement that he killed.

Then Clementine told me about her mother's village: all of them were slaughtered. Her grandfather was a very old man with a business; he was a tenacious fighter when the genocidaires (those that committed genocidal acts during the war) attacked the village, and he lead the people in the resistance. Finally the attackers got tired and it was over. THEN they beheaded him, posting his head on a stick on top of his shop mocking, "Lead your people now old man!" But, Clementine claims its ok, that they are so used to stories like this, like these trials. But she'll always remember her grandfather's visits to them (in the Refugee Camp) in Congo as a child, bringing them milk and laughing.

Then she decided these trials were boring, so we left and I heard more about the Gacaca: those that testify against someone usually are killed; its best to keep your mouth shut. Reconciliation is possible, but only when the accused ask for forgiveness, but if they claim nothing is wrong, keep their noses up, or still treat the others like dirt, then they can't reconcile. For some, the trials are like a joke: one may accuse another who will claim, "You accuse me?! While I was cutting off an arm, you were cutting off a leg!" And so friends go to jail together; people used to lie, give false testimony, etc. but now its getting better, more serious.

This morning we also found out where we will be living after training has ended! We found out very late, since there is only 1 week left in our training. I'll be living in the district called Burera, at an elevation of 2,500-3,000 meters (like 8,000-9,800 feet!) where its cold, rainy, and only a 30 minute walk from the Ugandan border. The small town is all on top of a hill, so kind of compacted and close. The high school I'll teach at was founded by parents in 1987 and was changed to public school in 1995. The school secretary said I can live with her and her family in their compound, and I'll have my own little guest house on the side. Water is only a five minute walk, no electricity (the school has solar panels so I can charge my phone), and its about 500 meters from the school. The local health center is run by a Spanish nun whose first response to inquiries about Peace Corps Volunteers in the area was that a volunteer wouldn't last up there. Well, we'll see about that.

*All names are changed to protect people's privacy.

Swearing- In in Kigali

2009-12-09T06:55:00.001-08:00

I never seem to realize how quickly time is going by, you know? We're going to swear in as official volunteers (well, those of us that transferred from Mauritania are already volunteers, but we're still going to be there and do it) on the 17th or 18 th of December. Just like in Mauritania we have a speech in the local language and just like in Mauritania, I get to be the speaker! We're having one in Kinyarwanda, English, and French, so I'm doing the kinyarwanda one along with my friend Kevin, and even wearing traditional Rwandan clothing! I'm really happy. I've really enjoyed being here: these 3 months of training have been incredible! My teachers are mostly between 25 and 30 years old, college educated locals, and we have so much fun together! One thing Africa definitely has is laughter, and we laugh SO MUCH! I love it!

Its really cool that Rwanda has made so much progress in the last 15 years socially, politically, and in education: most people speak a bit of English, good French, and many speak fluent Swahili. In any case its great because we can bond in ways that I wasn't able to do in Mauritania for a long time (until I had a good handle on the language) : with the English and French we understand each other, make jokes, and learn so much about each other's cultures. It also helps A TON that I already lived in Africa for so long: I can understand the way they think, see things, do things, their sense of humor, real limitations, social heirarchies, and the conservatism. One of their favorite things to say as a compliment to an American is " You're a REAL Rwandan!" meaning that you really understand the culture and have thoroughly integrated in to their way of life here. Its weird because I hear that pretty often. (Do I sound like a jerk? I don't mean to, just to share the truth of the matter ;)

In America there is this growing sense of "what is my identity" as people loose touch with thier origins, heritage, and traditions as generations of people stay in America. And its totally like that here, too: I'm the muzungu aka white person(moo-zoon-goo), but well adapted; one of the latinas in the group, but not fully (we're not born in South or Central America, but know some of the traditions as our own), even the fact that I've already seved a year in Africa as a PCV and am now demoted (?), well, considered a PCT (peace corps trainee instead of volunteer). Then looking at all the women my age here: married, with children. So weird! but now so are some of my friends in America! And my Grandmas are like " Oh, Michele, when are you going to have babies?!" and its like, "Woah! What's going on here?!!!" Getting older is starting to feel like the world is turning upside and too fast!

It turns out that we transfers are totally considered second year volunteers and can finish our service in December 2010/ January 2011. I'll be home before you know it! I think of you guys all the time and wish I had better internet service to at least connect to you once in a while. As it is we have to go to internet cafes with the slowest dial up connection ever. And its either spend my daily 1,000 amafaranga (about $2) on clothes, special foods, or internet.... sorry guys! (Everyone dresses as fashionably as possible here.. I have to keep up with the lastest fashions that arrive from the European/American good will!) I would say to please call me, because I wold LOVE to talk to you! But... I lost my phone! They cost about 15,000 FR for a cheap Nokia.... so I'll have to save up for a bit and I'll let you know when I buy a replacement ;)

2009-11-19T01:57:00.000-08:00

Walking down the roads we still hear children yell out "Muzungo!" (white person!) or even a slight variation: "muzutu!" (butt!--vulgar) (say it: moo-zoo-too); the poor farmers are noted by their wax print African clothes, while the educated upper class is noticeable in their western clothing, and I'm just noticed because I'm white :) Going through the market is like being in a movie set: music is coming at you from all sides, people gibbering, bargaining, shouting, calling, or out trying to rip you off. Kids still run away or hide behind parents or siblings to get away from the white people...

Food is good: usually beef, goat, chicken, fish or rabbit. Spaghetti noodles, macaroni, rice, or fried potatoes. Sometimes there's a spinach mush. Tomato sauce to cover it all. Always bananas. Always! Either large, baked plantains to eat with the sauce, or cooked with a peanut, meat, and veggie sauce, or small sweet ones for dessert, but there are always bananas! We all get our own plate to eat from, using forks and knives (my table manners are lacking, I've realized!) and tables with chairs! Every once in a while those of us that transferred here will sit on the ground to eat from a communal bowl... the first time everyone was aghast, even the locals, but now they're getting used to us.

The toilets are both western sitting toilets and squatty potties (a hole in the ground). I won't tell you which one I prefer and use daily ;)

The most common travel option is either by bike or motorcycle: both include passengers sitting behind the driver, just holding on to the seat, not always with a helmet. (Don't worry, as PCVs we're not allowed to take either one since they're like a death wish)

Life is alright! I'm used to Africa now, and not much shocks or startles me. Except for the tight American clothes many wear around here, I'm still not used to seeing so much leg!

Adjusting to Rwanda

2009-10-16T04:43:00.000-07:00

Now that we've been in Rwanda for over a week, we've begun language lessons, cultural, safety, and health training, and really getting to know some of the locals. I LOVE spending time with my language teachers and the other staff: 36 trainees and about 15 trainers live in 4 houses around the town of Nyanza (say it: ñan-za). I live in the big house, in a room with 5 other American trainees, and sit for 6 hours a day in a local classroom learning Kinyarwanda (say it: kin-yar-wan-duh). We have lessons on how to be a teacher, specifially a TEFL (Teaching English a a Foreign Langauge) teacher, and are starting traditional Rwandan dance classes today.

Slowly but surely I am comnnecting to this country and the Rwandan people, especially Alphonsine (say it: Al-fon-zeen), one of our coordinators: a 25 year old univerity graduate with beautiufl English. I am so impressed that someone my age (or thereabouts) has over come the staggering odds: by 9th grade about 1/3 of the girls that started in 1st grade are still in school; only 26% of women that enter college actually graduate, and despite traditional norms of marrying young (before age 20), Alphonsine is an educated, independent, and strong young woman. She told me her stategy was to eat fish heads.... her parents told her she'll be smart by eating the brain!

Esperance (say it: es-pear-raw-ns) is also my age and in the a similar sitution to Alphonsine: young, educated, trying to make a difference in her country. She asked me to help her with her English, so we're going to have advanced reading, writing, speaking, and listening... wish me luck, I think our class is growing!

Getting to Rwanda

2009-10-16T03:57:00.000-07:00

Its strangely beautiful to look out from the hilltop, surrounded by birdsong, trees, clouds, and brick buildings. Women walk these hills with babies on back, bundles overhead, and bright clothes. There's quite a mix of western clothes, hair styles, goods, all alongside the natural beauty and local women.

The government also shows western influences: where (apparently) there were wooded hills covered in shacks and shanty towns, there is now a developed roads system, fountains reflecting the dreams for Rwanda's future, parks for passing through, buldings going up, people walking, streets swept clean daily, light showers around 2 pm: life and growth and change burgeoning everywhere you look. All in contrast to the crippling genocide 15 yers ago (1994) that one 'Does not want to forget but hurts to remember' (from the Genocide Memorial in Kigali, the capitol). From what I'm told and all I've seen, everyone and everything is in an effort to reconciliate, even Nature doing her part to promote life.

People are welcoming, joyful, and eager, ready to teach, learn, work, and play. They greet with three alternating kisses on each cheek, men hold hands, women greet each other in the market, kids go in pairs or groups dressed in matching uniforms on their way to school. All people keep a short-cropped hair do, a few have braids or fake hair, and some use head wraps.

Every once in a while you may see an elderly person, but 60% of the population is under 18 years old. Going to the Genocide Memorial today explains how a country can be so young: a civil war and genocide wreaks havoc on the adult population as children are spared. Though here that wasn't always the case: to exterminate Tutsis and all of their line, even chidlren and babies were targeted. Fortunately the current government recognizes the youth as the future and hope for a peaceful reconcilitaion, thus pouring education, peace, and acceptance on the school children.

Joining PC Rwanda

2009-08-22T12:20:00.000-07:00

As an (unofficially named) PCVR-Peace Corps Volunteer Refugee- when our Peace Corps Mauritaia program was "temporarly closed," I have decided to continue my service in Peace Corps Rwanda, joining about 50 current volunteers in the country's year of Peace Corps existence. From Mauritania there are 14 of us answering the call to work with this small and mighty East African country.

In 1994 there was a horrible genocide resulting froma conflict between 2 ethnic groups called the Tutsis and the Hutus; according to BBC, an estimated 800,000 people were killed in three months. For the past 15 years they have worked tirelessly to rebuild the country and learn from their past. As such, the Peace Corps opened in Rwanda in 2008 to help with the rebuilding process.

The current volunteers are all Health volunteers, and those of us coming in early October will be Education. The Rwandan government recently changed everything from French to English, so we're going to help teachers, students, and people with the transition in speaking, reading, writing, science, and math. As Mauritanian PCVRs, we have the oportunity to stay for either one or two years.

At this point in my life I could not imagine doing anything but this: serving people, getting to know others, seeing the world, and enjoying life.