Umaganda free morning

So, umaganda is a day (usually the last Saturday of the month) where Rwandans are required to volunteer (oxymoron, I know) in their communities. Shops are closed and you are not allowed on the streets unless you are volunteering. IT's always tough to come to Kigali then because you have to sit at your hotel until noon, when it ends. But last week was national tree planting week so the government change umaganda to then. That means today is a normal Saturday!! So, I planned to come to Bourbon, have a coffee and Skype with Aimey and her friends who where there to decorate a tree. I was skeptical that it would all work out but guess what....it worked. With absolutely no problem. The thing is...a snow storm in Calgary meant that Ang couldn't be there to say 'hello'. I was really disappointed. :( So I'll give a shout out to you now! 

Yesterday was more productive than I think I've ever been in this city. Usually I come here, laptop in bag, and plan to Skype, buy food, do this, do that...and usually I get nothing done. Yesterday, however, I was lucky. Met Karen at 10am (both of our busses were one time) and wandered around to find the Tanzanian Embassy which Lonely Planet said was on one street. I should never EVER trust LP but I did and we were lost and finally the guard at the Belgian embassy pointed us in the right direction....across town. We hopped on motos and mine had a death wish but it was my fault. I told him to go fast. He did...yikes. We made to the embassy 20 minutes before it closed. Applied for our visas. Then to St. Paul to find out there were no rooms. Phoned around and found nothing available so we went to a hotel. An actual hotel with actual ensuites. A big expensive but a nice treat. We went to Nyamagobo bus park to get our bus tickets for Zanzibar and we even managed to that it just over an hour. Wow! Dinner at Sun and Moon with Patricia who was taking a 3am flight to Egypt before heading home to Montreal next week. We said our farewells and headed back to the hotel (with an actual ensuite).

So, here I sit with internet that is working and I got a great email from a friend with an article about Lake Lebarge that was in the Globe and Mail just last week! I'm looking forward to breakfast before I head home to deal with a mice issue at my house, visit the market and head to bed early. Don't forget, I'll probably be woken at 5am. yes, I know that the dancing and singing of Rwandas should be an experience and I should be out with them enjoying it. But dammit! I want to sleep in!!!

Slow News Day

The pressure to write something profound is immense. I love the feedback I get from the blog. It's the sort of boost of confidence a middle child really needs. But I have to say that when there's no new adventure to write about I avoid writing at all. Sure I could write about the fact that Stuart Little 2 (remember Stuart Little I - who's demise was nothing if not bloody) has officially camped out in my living room. Or I could write about making Sidekicks again (not quite as interesting as the first time....this one called for nothing but water and that I COULD manage!). Nah! Not much going on so I'll give you a bit of a run down and then sign off for a few days. Heading to Kigali to get my Tanzanian visa for ......wait for it.....Zanzibar!!!!

- Ran into Patrick yesterday and am pleased to announce that not only did he make it safely back to Kibungo but so did his bike. Now, if only I could be assured that he has his papers this time. Arranged for him to drive me to Zaza on Thursday and it's quite far so I think I'll double check lest I be stranded in yet another middle-of-nowhere-village-near-pineapple-fields-with-friendly-police. I also owe him money for the ONE WAY journey on Monday

- Met Christine for a tea and bread this afternoon. She was in town for an hour to go to the bank. Sat in Consolee's shop and she was just thrilled at the two muzungus. She gave us free fruit and let us practice our Kinyarwanda. 

- Lately have missed teaching more than I thought I would. I've already gone five months without standing infront of a classroom and think I have withdrawl. I'd probably be teaching about the Justice System right now (and worrying about PATs already) and listening to my students' personal experiences. "Miss, how come one time when I was shop lifting......" You know, those ones. Truthfully, though, it's my calling and my passion. What did it for me was watching Jason's workshop on Student Centred Education (our raison d'etre in Rwanda - see how French lessons are paying off?) and had flash backs to the classroom. I know that teaching will always be there and this really is the experience of a life time but man to I miss those kids and all the funny things they say. 

Me: Walk into class with hair sort of curly and say "Good morning."

Grade 9 girl: "Oh my God! I totally love your hair."

Me: "Thanks but it's just that my straightener was broken."

Grade 9 boy: "Was your mirror broken too?"

Me: .....laughter....more laughter..... not sure I started teaching for a good 10 minutes.

- Finished Miriam Keyes latest novel, This Charming Man, and feel that if you had the choice between spending your $26.99 on that or on paying someone to drag their nails across a chalkboard, I would spend money on the chalkboard. At least then you wouldn't have to pay shipping

- However, if you've any Irish in you (or want to get all excited about St. Patrick's Day), I'm in the middle of Road to McCarthy and am enjoying it.  Also reading The Hour I First Believed by Wally Lamb. He wrote one of my top five books so I'm pretty sure that I'll like this one. Plus it comes highly recommended from some book swap girls.

- Have been heading to bed early lately as a 5am wake up call is coming in the form of a parade or rally on the street each morning. Awesome. Senior 6s are taking culture courses and I think they are finishing them or nearly. So, every morning there are groups of them that rally together and chant and sign and (I'm sure) dance and wave flags. I don't know because, as yet, I haven't been able to pull myself out of bed to see. It is, after all, 5 IN THE MORNING!!!

Okay, so maybe it's been a slow news day. Fine. But you know what? I don't have to go with the whole "if it bleeds, it leads" adage because, frankly, this is my paper and I can do what I want! Also many of you have asked where to put comments on the blog. Right now you can't. I'm thinking of changing this. I think most people would "post responsibly" and if you were mean and cranky and critical then I have the luxury of being able to humiliate and insult you on the blog for the entire world to see. So, yeah, I'm considering it. Will let you know.

Sorry about the slow news day. Take it up with the editor!! :) 

Problem of papers.

Today is Monday. This morning I called Patrick for a drive to Gafunzo school. This is so far!! Almost an hour on a motorbike but as you know, this is my favourite part. I grabbed pink, my head band –come neck protector from Krystal, rain gear and workshop materials and we were off. This was a new route for me and it was stunning. Rolling hills and valleys as far as the eye could see. A field of pineapples and gardens of green beans that are growing thanks to the rain. I took a note that I wanted to stop and take pictures on our way back. Patrick would be up for that. 

And then we came upon a police check point.

Now, if you hadn’t gathered this before, Rwanda has more checkpoints than I think it has banana trees. Busses and motos and cars are forever being stopped. The police are vigilant, and this is a good thing, about ensuring that the driver has proper documentation. I wasn’t worried because it’s Patrick! He has one of the new moto vests and everything. Of course, when he started patting his pockets and coming up with nothing I got a bit concerned. No problem (naki bazo!), he’ll probably get a stern warning and be allowed to continue.

And then the police officer reached over and took the key out of the ignition.

More discussion ensued and the word “muzungu” and “Gafunzo” came up. The officer then explained it to me --- as if I hadn’t figured it out. Patrick has no license on him. He does not have the papers to operate the bike. It’s all the way in Kibungo – 45 miuntes away – and we’re in the middle of nowhere. The officer gestures that I need to get off the bike so I comply. Patrick is still on it. I’m told to walk but I explained that I don’t know wehre I am.

“Oh, the school is just up there….” (Like that helps. I’m in the middle of freaking Rwanda folks….I don’t really know what “up there” means)

Then, Patrick is told to get off the bike. He takes his helmets and the police take his bike and drive away! They are taking it to sector office and so he and I head to Gafunzo on two feet and a heart beat.

“Patrick, what’s the problem?”

“Anna. Big problem. Problem of papers.”

Sigh…

I sent a message to the head teacher of Gafunzo who promptly sent a teacher - named after Jean Baptiste because he was born on June 24 and a forest, because his mother had just come out of a forest when he was born - on a bicycle for me. We walked to the school and Patrick continued onto the office to – hopefully – retrieve his bike.  The workshop went well. There was even a bat that had joined us for the day. When it was over Patrick was there! Thankfully!! I thought he would have gone all the way back to Kibungo to get his papers but he must have sorted it out at the sector office.  There he is, waiting, with a big smile…..sans bike helmets.

“Patrick, where is your moto?”

“At sector office. Big problem. Problem of a papers. We’ll take a taxi bus.”

Me: groan. That will take at least 2 hours and I have to pee…… We are in the middle of nowhere..I suppose, this could be an adventure. But my bladder thought otherwise and the first moto that did pull up Patrick said not to take because the driver wasn’t good.

“Patrick, I would like to take a moto.”

“Anna? Problem of time?”

“Yes, Patrick. Problem of time.”

So I waited and finally did find another driver. All the way back to Kibungo without Patrick, getting used to a new driver and …sigh…we never did get to stop and take pictures of the pineapple fields and the valley. Maybe next time.

Patrick making a call ... sans bike.

Patrick looking less that happy at the situation. He was smiling just before. Really, he was.

Our visitor. A little late for Halloween.

Teachers working with our visitor. See the black dot between the windows?

Weekend in Nyamugali

More than once, recently, I’ve said that it was October. I had to look again at my watch to remind myself that it’s already November. Time is coming up so fast that I realized I only have two more weekends to sort our transportation and visas for Tanzania. We’re going to Zanzibar for Christmas!!! I’m so excited. We have no firm plans yet but can’t wait to see white sand and turquoise beaches. Since I’ve never been to Cuba or Mexico, I have no idea what to expect. People have said, though, that Cuba’s beaches have nothing on Zanzibar….

Friday after my workshop I caught a bus to Nykarambi. I arrived in dark. I had to remind myself to NEVER sit in the front seat during dusk again. The driver was cruising at a speed approaching 115km/hour. While it may be true that other drivers engage in excessive speed too, and that often speedometers are often broken so you can only gage your speed by the rate of passing mud houses and banana trees, I’ve never sat in the front before when the sun was setting, visibility was decreasing and people were darting out infront of the taxi bus. More than once my heart almost stopped and it takes a lot for this to happen. I’ve been come such a relaxed passenger….goats and children jumping in front rarely cause me to skip a beat. There was one time, however, where the driver was accelerating onto the road, looking over his shoulder when a toddler wandered out in the middle. I was in the middle of reaching over to smack the driver when he noticed and jerked out of the way. Yes, that did cause me to sweat a little, but generally I’m pretty relaxed.

Okay….so I arrived in Nyakarambi with a baby on my lap. A mother was getting in next to me and having difficulty climbing up with the little one so my outstretched arms were welcomed with a broad smile – from both mom and baby. Dorothy was waiting for me in the dark with Anastase, the moto driver that knew where Christine’s new house was. Christine had finally moved to her village after a disaster of a first attempt which included bats and bat urine and a smell from the house that could be smelled from the street. So now, almost three months later, she had moved. I pulled on a sweater and climbed on with a backpack and some wash basins in the front. We continued along the same road (the highway to Tanzania), were stopped by the police once, passed by a semi-trailer (only one!) and flew down the valley until Risuzi. This the village turn off. After this it was onto dirt roads and a steep hill with ruts from the rain. Finally, we arrived in Nyamugali! A night of helping her unpack and drinking some wine and we both went to bed exhausted – me from a long workshop and bus trip and her from the stress of moving. Of course, neither of us slept well. In the morning we acknowledged that this house, too, has bats. And not just one or two. Enough to wake me up in the middle of the night. Argh!!! It was the morning of umaganda and so Patricia, who was visiting from Kigali, had to leave before 5am to ensure she got here. Christine met her hat Risuzi when she finally arrived after having convinced the chielf of police that she was just visiting a friend and that’s why she wasn’t working during umaganda. I left around 4pm but barely….

We knew that Stella express would stop in Risuzi but not sure when. So, I got on a local bus. (This is almost ALWAYS a mistake) It promised to not make any extra stops and it was only going to be 900. Okay, a bit much but I just wanted to get home in the light and I had two hours. Of course, the bus did not go right away. In fact, it went backward!! Trying to pick up new passengers. After 15 minutes, I knew I had chosen wrong. I should have just waited for an express bus. As we started to pull onto the main road a Stella bus pulled up!! My lucky day! I asked the driver of my bus to stop so I could see if it was going to Kibungo (I knew it was). The driver wouldn’t stop and told me that it wasn’t going to Kibungo but worse than that….as I tried to lean out to ask I was pushed out of the way. I asked the bus to stop again and he refused!! I was pushed away from the window again. Fortunately a friend of Christine’s was on the bus and told the driver to stop and let me off. I was furious…and I’ll admit, a bit scared. It was the first time I have felt unsafe on one of the busses. I go on the Stella bus and was home in an hour – happy I didn’t pay one sent to the local driver. And the Stella bus was only 800.

Sunday I killed an entire day by lazing around the house for the first time in a month or so. From 7:30 am (not including my 5am wake up call by a parade outside on the street) until 8pm…I relaxed by reading, (This Charming Man – not worth it!), finished a movie (Burn After Reading – very good), foot bath in peppermint salts with warm water, ate some chocolate, worked on my pictures, puttered around and drank coffee. It was wonderful! Made even better by a phone call from Aimey where I expressed how much I missed going to Chapters with her and ALL I WANT IS A CARAMEL MACCHIATO FROM STARBUCKS……We talked forever!!! (Aimey…I think I owe you at least 2 Caramel Macchiatos for that…or 2 Skinny Vanilla Extra Hot No foam lattes…).

I was going to title this "The postman was busy" but it didn't sound right.....

Heading the post office meant I had take the bus because there were no motos in sight. They were all at the district for a meeting and then (on my way back from the post office) all of them -- and I mean all, maybe a hundred -- paraded down, horns honking, flags waving. They had all received new vests and were riding around showing them off. They were all very excited...that is until one of them made a short turn and nearly caused a five bike pile up. 

Don't think I forgot about my other treats from home. My parents, again, sent some great things - including a McLean's magazine about my buddy, Trudeau, and a Calgary Herald from November 1st. Old news is still good news. And there are more Sidekicks! I know that many of you felt my pain as I tried to make the last batch and whilst I did suggest I may try the microwave instructions this time, I have changed my mind. I'll stick to kerosene.

Aimey's parcel also arrived and it's heavy!! Hmmmm...what could it be? Well, I don't know! Since I can't open this one now, because it's a Christmas gift, it is sitting in my room saying "open me. open me. open me". Honestly, if opened it now and thanked her in December would she even know? The answer: yes. She'd know. So, I will keep this one intact until Santa finds his way to Kibungo.

In other news -- the gecko circle of life continues. As it turns out, I don't think Ying and Yang were fighting recently. It looked like fighting but I'm pleased to say that I think there is a baby Yang now in my house! He's a crafty little bugger who runs around getting into trouble. I think that will pass when he's out of the terrible twos. So, to say good bye here are some pictures!

Baby Yang on the left....Ying on the right. 

Good bye my friend. Ying, left. Yang, right. (Photo taken last September)

A gift from the Land of the Midnight Sun

First I have to say that I’m sitting here writing this in the light because for the first time in probably a month, the power has not gone off. Not even for a second. Wait….I need to knock on wood…..okay, done.

My head teacher’s workshop was cancelled today because of a bunch of meetings at the cell level (smaller than a sector but larger than an umadugadu). So..I was in the office. I had been working for a few hours when I got a call from Vincent at the Post Office to tell me that a small packet had arrived for me. Already my day was looking good. Unable to find any moto to drive me (Murphy’s law: when you don’t want a moto they hound you, when you do there isn’t one to be found) so I started to walk. Eventually a bus came by and I hoped in. I arrived to collect my package when Vincent, with a big grin, handed me THREE!!!! What???? My parents, Aimey and family friends had all sent parcels and various stages and they all arrived today. I was giddy with excitement. The fact that my parents sent a parcel at the same time as the Lemphers made me wonder if, given the odds, I’d find a deck of cards and a score card for bridge. I found neither but I did find some wonderful treats including peppermint foot salts and Belgian chocolate – both of which I’ll bring south with me this weekend to share with Christine. My family and friends have been so generous that I can’t help but share. The package from the Lemphers was a particular and welcome surprise. The Lemphers are like my second parents. I grew up in the north and my aunts and uncles all lived in the east, and so we spent Thanksgivings and New Year’s Eves with them. I truly believe that if there is anyone, other than my parents, prouder of me for coming – and surviving – in Africa it is them. This is why:

I grew up in Whitehorse, Yukon. Okay, so I also lived in Fort Smith and Inuvik in the NWT and in Grande Prairie AB and in Calgary before I graduated from high school. But my formative childhood years were spent in the land of the midnight sun – literally. Have you every heard of a little known poet named Robert Service? If you’re a Yukoner you know many of his lines by heart.

 

There are strange things done, in the midnight sun,

by the men who moil for gold

And the Arctic trails have their secret tales

that would make your blood run cold

The Northen Lights have seen queer sights

             But the queerest they ever did see

Was the night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

            I cremated Sam McGee

The Lemphers lived on the marge of Lake Lebarge and I, reluctantly, grew up there. Every Friday we would pack up our things and drive the hour to Lake Lebarge where, as soon as the kids were done eating, my parents would pull out the bottle of Pledge and polish the table until a playing card would slid across the surface without a molecule of resistance. Then the bridge playing began and it’s the sounds and smells of these weekends that are etched in my memory.

By the time our parents began to play, the kids had gathered (read: been banished) into “the addition” (the part of the house that was under construction) to watch a Betamax video that we’d pick up at the junction on the way out. Could have been “Batteries Not Included” or “Ghostbusters” or something like that. The five of us would keep ourselves entertained and every so often one of us would be sent to the kitchen for junk food or pop. We’d walk past the stereo that was usually playing The Kingston Trio and then dig through the Tupperware for something to eat. Sometimes my the parents noticed us, sometimes they didn’t. The language of bridge was something I learned as a kid. I don’t know how to play the game and yet could fake it by saying things like “four no trump” or “I bid six”. My understanding of the word “rubber” was far different than my peers in junior high, that’s for sure. My memory, of course, has changed over the years. I’m sure we didn’t visit every Friday and I’m sure the drive wasn’t a full hour. And I’m pretty sure our parents didn’t neglect us for an entire weekend. What I am definitely sure of, though, is that while my memory looks back on these weekends fondly the truth is, I hated going out there! I usually complained the entire time.

I complained about the animals. There were cats and dogs and horses and a black bird named Vicious that would never shut up! The Newfoundland named Brumby would lie on my shoes and druel on them. The cats scratched me and I fell of the horse, Angel, once on Thanksgiving and thought for sure I’d broken a limb. Also, there was no one for my to play with. Danny had Justin and Pat had John. But the Lemphers neglected to provide a daughter near my age to play with so I was stuck reading, listening to my walkman or more likely, whining.

Once the family thought it would be a great idea to have a big baseball game. I was dragged out of the house and told to have fun. Hmfph. Some game. The bunch of cheaters kept moving first base when you tried to get there or they pull you down as you were running. And just as I was whining at the injustice of it all I was hit in the knee by a line drive. I collapsed in convincing agony and FINALLY was aloud to go back inside to my Christopher Pike book and my Bon Jovi New Jersey album. How often had I wish that I was Sam McGee – if only just to get away from my wretched family!!! How dare they try to make my childhood fun, let alone memorable!

The reason I was miserable probably had something to do with the fact that I was misunderstood tween who was trying to find her way in the world.  Or not. It probably had to do with the lack of a shower, septic tank, bugs and spiders, harsh weather or no television. (Sound familiar?) I constantly complained and whined and cried and made live miserable for those around me to. This is why, I think, when I proudly said “Yup, I’m going to Africa” my parents, and I assume, the Lemphers had to do a double take. Actually, on all my travels abroad, I have received such wonderfully supportive emails from them I think they might finally believe that it was just a phase!

We moved from Whitehorse in 1991 and I haven’t been back to Lake Lebarge since. I’ve been saying for years that I want to take a drive up north again. I have cousins in the Yukon too. I think when I’m get home and want to put my passport away for a while, I’ll head up north and maybe, have a baseball game on marge of Lake Lebarge in the midnight sun.

Thanks for the parcel! And….uh….sorry I was such a pain in the ass back then. 

And then there was Ying

My house is a little bit quieter today.

 There was a rainstorm this afternoon which had me stuck in my house looking out over the valley trying to predict its duration. I did some work on my computer and when I looked up, the rain had stopped. It was market day and I needed some bananas. So, I grabbed my bag and headed out. As the door swung open, though, something dropped from above and landed just next to my left foot.

 There, on his back, tail-less and maimed, lay Yang. I didn’t know if the little gecko was still alive so I turned him over and he tried to crawl away using his two good legs. It was pitiful but I had to give it the little bugger, he tried.  I wondered what happened to him. Was it the door? Did I squish him when I opened it? No. I couldn’t have been me. I’m pretty sure I saw Ying and Yang fighting earlier this week and I know it was Ying who tried to bite the tail off of Yang. Maybe he succeeded. Ying is such a bully. What to do? I remembered the day I turned up to school to see a wounded bird lying in front of my school’s library window. He had taken his last flight and my principal sent him to bird heaven with what I can only assume was swift crack of the neck . Maybe there was another way to say good bye to Yang. I called Jason who knows more about birds than Hitchcock and almost just as much about animals. (Jason would be the first correct that statement by saying “Birds are animals too.”)

 “Well, the quickest way would be to find a rock. But it would have to be a big enough rock. And you’d have to be sure that it hit the gecko where you wanted it to.”

 Next idea?

 “Or you could drown it. It may take a few minutes but it’s better than him suffering for a few hours. And you’ll need a rock to weigh him down.”

 Oh God. I can’t do this!!

 I had no choice. A missing tail was one thing and probably survivable. But I could see his insides. So, I found some paper and made a little stretcher to transport him to the puddle that had accumulated during the rain storm. I placed him gently in the water and placed a rock on him. I couldn’t look at him anymore, so I went to the market to forgot my troubles.

 I ran into Chantal along the way and we walked together. The mud was horrendous but I wasn’t thinking about mud or bananas anymore. On the way home I ran into Dominique who reminded me that I needed to come and train with the volleyball team. I continued on my way and Jason called about work but also to ask,

 “How is the gecko?”

 "Oh,” I said. “I think he’s gone to gecko heaven.”

 “Or you’ve sent him to gecko hell. In which case, you’ve made his existing problem substantially worse.”

 Thanks.

I arrived home to check on the puddle. Yang, a fighter until the end, had escaped and had – I assume – doggy paddled his way to the edge. I repositioned him for a final farewell, placed two rocks on top and walked away to prepare a head stone. Finally, after enough time had passed, I retrieved the body (his soul had, I’m sure, already ascended) and flung him skyward – out the back, over the fence and into the valley of banana trees. The whole ordeal lasted a good hour. I spent less time ‘agonizing’ over selling my Cabbage Patch doll, whose name was Keri Anne and who came with a birth certificate, to a complete stranger when I was nine. I am only hoping now that Ying (and the other geckos that live in my house) can appreciate my humane actions for what they were and not consider me a cold and callous gecko killer. I have visions of them crawling on to my bed tonight, Ying in the lead, with Yang’s tail saying, “You forgot something.”

Hmmmm….maybe I should go look for the tail now, too. 

Workshop Part Deux

Tuesday Jason invited Froudauld and I over to his house for dinner. We arrived in the dark because the power had gone out across the entire town. As I was walking, I almost past his house because I could hardly see where I was going. The night was clear but there wasn’t a full moon so I had to use my cell phone light. I am getting surprisingly good and seeing in the dark. I even ran into my egg lady who asked, “Ugeyehe?” (Where are you going?) Of course I couldn’t remember how to reply in Kinyarwanda so I replied in French – “Chez Jason.” And then I actioned the word tall and said “muzungu”. She got it. Dinner was pasta was a cheese sauce. Cheese! I know! I’m not a cheese lover but it was a nice change. He bought it in Uganda 3 weeks ago and did you know that if you rub cheese with garlic it will keep without au fridge for a long time? Neither did I. We talked to Froduald about the district and the how everything is organized. He has such a keen mind for education that it is refreshing. Often here, administrators of education have no teaching experience. He does and it shows. Frodauld walked me back and by this time the power had come back on and we could see where we were going.

Wednesday morning I had another workshop. This one had double the attendance of the one on Monday. I had made some improvements on the workshop and as a result I think this one went a lot better. It’s like any lesson, I suppose. We make all of our mistakes the first time and by the fifth time we teach about Lenin’s New Economic Policy, we actually understand how it differs from Stalin’s Five Year Plans…..(Oh how I remember!) This was the first time in a while that I felt like I was teaching. I was EXHAUSTED!!! I have forgotten what it was like to do this all day, every day. It is exhilarating but challenging. 

Jean Paul leads us in a game of "Simon Says"

Encouraging listening skills: five students act out different illnesses. I read a passage that describes two of the characters and the "students" figure out which one is which. There were some great actors. 

Structured dialogue and sketches to encourage children to speak in the classroom. Now, children are not very active in the classroom and do not speak enough.

Doctor: "What is the matter?"

Patient: "I have a head ache."

Doctor: "I can help you. Please sit down."

Two of the actors got really creative!

Doctor: "What is the matter?"

Patient: "I have a stomach ache."

Doctor: "I can help you. Give me money!"

That got the group laughing!

Teacher Training at EP Bare

The morning started off well – both water and electric working. Okay, tha may be an exaggeration but the power had been off for a few days last week and I left for the night when it was still off. I came home Sunday (and just about everything I had had dead batteries) but it was on!! So was the water! Well, the water stopped in the evening but not after I had had a hot (yes HOT) bucket shower! Hot enough to cause their to be steam on the junior-high-locker-sized-mirror. I have not perfected the bucket shower but the heat was so wonderful. I actually felt clean, even if the water still ran brown. IN the morning…the water was on – sort of. There was air in the pipes and water would spurt out in loud gushes. When it did come out I felt like I was in Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory where the rivers run of chocolate and the taps pour chocolate. But instead of rivers and taps of brown, flowing, delicious chocolate is was brown, flowing, dirty water. Eventually it ran less brown (clear does not exist) and I could wash and boil water before I left.

 

The clouds were grey but I didn’t see any rain coming in the next hour but it’s rainy season so I packed my rain gear anyway. I loaded up 13 copies of the English curriculum for P4-P6 (all 47 pages of it!), some charts I’d made, a first aid kit, water, a snack, my camera, my notes, sticky tack and a sense of humour. (VSO always tells us this is the most important thing to bring with you when coming overseas….) I stepped out at 8am and waited with Chantal for Patrick to arrive. While I was waiting the Executive Secretary of Remera sector walked by and so I greet him and told him where I was going --- in French! “Je vais aller a Mutendeli…” “Your French is getting better!” he said….in English. Patrick arrived and I put on Pink. (I’ve named my motorcycle helmet after the singer…and the colour).  Have I mentioned that moto rides are the best part of my job? Through the villages and looking in the deep, distant green valleys. I did not hear one “Muzungu!” as I rode so maybe they are getting used to me. We arrived at Bare and were greeted by Leandre, the warm and welcoming head teacher.

 

The topic of the workshop was the English Curriculum and Planning. After conducting a needs analysis with head teachers and four schools, I have wanted to integrate those needs into all my workshops. Many teachers said they wanted help with the curriculum, with using the textbook and using more English. So, I began with a Textbook Search – which I always do at home when we start using a new resource. It gives students a chance to “flip” through the book and find out how it is organized and what things they will be learning about. I focused the workshop on breaking the curriculum into the four skills that English should include: Reading, Writing, Speaking and Listening. Many Rwandan teachers spend a lot of time on grammar and writing so my aim was to encourage the other three skills as well. I gave sample activities for all skills. When we talked about reading, I emphasized that the teacher should read a passage for students first. Many teachers here are concerned that, as a new language, they would not prounouce the English words correctly. I shared with how when I used to teach the concept of “entrepreneurism” I struggled to say the word properly and that my students would roar with laughter when I tried to say “entrepreneur.” The joke was on them actually because they loved listening to me butcher the word that they began to say things like “Hey, Miss. What’s the person called who is a business owner and takes risks with their money?” They thought they were “tricking” me into saying the word when in reality I had tricked them into learning it. Muu ahh haa haa haa!!! The tricks we play as teachers!

 

The workshop went well but because it was my first go, I have a few adjustments to make before holding again this month. I had even planned to have a follow – up with these teachers in January where we could share lesson ideas for the four skills. The teachers really wanted to meet early so we booked a day in December.

 

The day was made even better but the fact that at lunch Leandre invited me to his house with another teacher to have lunch. His mother cooked us goat in plantain with my favourite sauce! It’s tomotoes with nut flour but so great – Mama Leandre’s sauce is the best I’ve had in Rwanda. I’m thinking I may ask her to teach me to cook. The only issue was – and this is forever the case with goat – some pieces were fatty and I could chew them. This was the case with the first piece and I made a bit of scene trying to not swallow gristle. Biting and chewing and leaning to not spill but as I ripped the piece the momentum of my bite flew my head back and sauce everywhere! No problem – I have tissue in my bag. I wipe my mouth and hands and feel that I have sufficiently cleaned myself off. However,  (and there always is a ‘however’) as were walking back, Leandre looked at me and said “Do this” as he wiped the tip of his nose. What do I feel but dried Mama Leandre sauce on my nose! I was a bit embarrassed but thanked him for not being one of those people who let you go on looking like a fool all day before telling you that you have spinach or something in your teeth. “Thanks Leandre” I said, to which he replied “Well, teachers should look smart.” As we continued toward the school, we heard shouting and Leandre explained that it was the men raising the roof for the new schools. The community is building four new classrooms to be ready for senior 2 classes to begin in January. As the workshop wound up the rain began to pound down so we were delayed leaving. We just had to wait it out. As soon as it let up, I put on my rain gear and headed home. It was a success!

Weekend in Gitarama

Saturday morning Christine and I are to head to Gitarama for April birthday. The plan is to take a bus that will leave Kibungo at 11 but of course when Christine is assured that there is a 10 o’clock bus from Nyakarambi, she finds out that “yes” meant “no” and to hope on a dreadful local bus. We eventually got some food and crowded into a dreadfully sized express bus heading for Kigali. We arrived in the rain and had exactly one hour to head to T-2000 (affectionately – and politically incorrectly - known as the Chinese shop) to buy Karen a blanket. It’s cold in Gits! We have success and catch the bus for the south ride into Muhanga District. I find it funny everytime I go there because my second offer was to be in Gitarama. It’s a big city of 100,000 and after Kibungo, feels big. We arrive and now need to find motos to take us to Shoygwe where Melanie and Karen and waiting with dinner ready. We head back into town for the party and this means walking to the village near Shoygwe to find motos. Along the way we catch up with a family walking with a cow, calf and a goat. The young boy was whipping the calf to keep it going straight and the calf was head butting the goat. I think the goat thought he was a cow…..Motos into town and we give common Rwandan directions of “[insert suburb name here] near [insert landmark here]” which, in this case was something like “Gahogo near the antennae”. After a wrong turn we arrived and saw a few other muzungus headed to the party too. The theme was “Bad Taste” but I forgot and so didn’t have a market special dress to wear. Everyone else was dressed in their finest Golden Girls era clothing. I suppose it’s just impossible for me to have bad taste, that’s all! Chatted with some volunteers who just returned from Zanzibar so I could get the low down on where to do and what to do. Watch a few people do back flips. Was forced to dance to eighties music by April. All in all, good fun. I realize that I took no pictures but if you are wondering, I’m sure there is a Bea Arthur website you could find to give you and idea of the attire. Sunday we left early so we could stop in Kigali for a few essentials. In my case this mean drain cleaner and bread. Came home to power and water. Had a hot bucket shower. Waited for Dorothy to arrive who is staying here for a few days because she is working in my district for a few days. Had a chat with my family and then, off to bed. Ahhhhh……

Baby Got Back...and all the little things that I notice when the power is off

After a number of weeks of searching for things to do at the office, I was excited to come back from ICT2 with a lot to do. I had to finalize two workshops for Thursday and Friday, as well as one on Monday. I was planning to go away for the weekend and would have no time then to do it. So…I started out. Full steam ahead!! I had little food in my house on account of missing Saturday market day and having been in Kigali but decided I could live on tuna, eggs and the bananas I had bought in the city. Plus Aimey sent me a great package that included my favourite chocolates as well as Halloween decorations….It was just too bad that Canada Post decided to take it’s sweet time delivering it. (Notice how I blame Canada Post….don’t we all?)

Tuesday night, though, I started to feel ill. No big deal – just a sore throat! So, I put on “27 Dresses” (thanks Ang!) and settled in for a movie. The power was off and it was dark but something caught my eye. There, on the floor was a moving, flashing light. What was that? So…I grabbed my light and my camera and took a video. It was a bug with a flashing bum! I have never seen one before. Imagine – having a bum that flashed! The complexes that female bum-flashing-bugs might have, as if fitting into Gap Jeans wasn’t difficult enough. These bugs have the added attention of “hey look at me! I can barely fit into a size 14 and it flashes!” Sort of like a tail lights. I wonder if Sir Bugs-A-Lot would write a song about it. “Baby Got Backlit” Hmmmm…..

Anyway…enough of that. I slept like crap and continued to feel worse. I made an executive decision (which I’m not sure I’m entitled to make considering I’m not an executive). I did not go to work Wednesday and postponed the workshops just incase I was still not feeling well in Thursday. I’ve decided to not take any chances with my health here. Having a cold in Canada is no big deal and I don’t think I’ve ever called a sub for it. But here….well…..I just would rather be cautious. In the end, Wednesday helped a tonne. It was made better, of course, by a visit from Christine, where we ate a meal in the dark (power out again), watched “In Bruges” and ate mini-Reese peanut butter cups that Aimey sent. The workshops have been moved to next week which makes me uber busy then. Four workshop in five days. That’s okay – it also means two moto rides!

Because the workshop was postponed and I ended up being in the office anyhow, many head teachers were around. It was good to see them and do some more planning. I will be trying to register a few schools on the Global Gateway website so that they can apply for the VSO Global Partnership Program. This is where a Rwandan school partners with a school in the UK. As it is now, the program that VSO sponsors doesn’t include Canadian schools but I would suggest that if you’re. interested in pairing with a school somewhere, to go on the website and register. The website itself is for schools all over the world. www.globalgateway.uk.org

Tonight I’ll spend another relaxing night. The power just came on. It was off while I cooked dinner but long enough to notice, when I turned off my head lamp, lights buzzing about in the back. I think that I saw fire flies for the first time in my life! Unless the blinking bum bug was one too.

To sum it up…the week has been good but less busy than I anticipated. Less busy, though, is good sometimes. It gives us time to stop, look up, and see the rainbows and other pretty things around us. 

A beautiful rainbow above the motorcycle garage next to my house. What you don't see is the throng of people behind me, watching me take the photo and thrilled to learn the English word for rainbow (which is, incidently, rainbow). They might have forgotten it now but I've forgotten the Kinyarwanda word for it too. 

I know that this blog seems really happy and some of you might wonder "Is Anna really that happy in Rwanda?" The truth comes in two parts. Yes - I am totally happy to be here and doing a job that is challenging (because of the work and the obstacles of working in development) and rewarding. But this blog isn't all that realistic....I don't share those times with you that I'm really homesick or totally frustrated at things here. What's the point? I'm learning (finally) that homesickness and frustration will always pass but the blog will live on indefinitley in cyberworld. Here's an example: Came home Sunday night at 6:30 so it was already dark. There was no power because I ran out while I was in Kigali. My system is a "pay as you go" system and I forgot to pay before I went - so to speak. It wasn't a big deal because it was my fault. So Monday I headed down to buy electricity at Electrogaz. It's all the way at the other end of the town. So I hoped on the moto and arrived to find no one there! I could have been frustrated but I headed to the post office because I knew there was a parcel there. Vincent had phoned me and so I went to get that and give Vincent a gift I bought in Kigali. Back to Electrogaz and hoping someone was there. Nope. Okay so choice one is to wait it out. I'd come all that way and it would be a shame to have to spend another 600Francs to come back or walk the 45 minutes back to work. I decided to wait it out and then was invited into the office by some other workers. They were so friendly! One lady even gave me her chair because the free one was broken. Of course, I had to refuse because she was so willing to do her work standing up. But I sat on the broken chair and gabbed with them until the power lady came back. I didn't know how much to by so I spent 15,000 Francs and got...105 kWh!! Whoa! Too much. It will last me a few months at least. Then back to work - where power was off. And then home to punch in my code to get some electricity. It worked! "Electrogaz said 'Let there be light!' and there was light!" Until 6:30pm. 

 

The power was still off this morning. I don't know why. Chantal at the motorcycle co-op next door has power. I don't. It's frustrating because I want to be able charge things but....these are things life is made of here. At least this morning the power was on at the office so I could print a few documents for the workshops on Thursday. That was my main objective today. I had most of the things printed by 8:30 and so I could take a break. I'm actually feeling a bit under the weather and am trying to stay healthy for the week. I'm supposed to head to Gitarama next weekend for a party and would like to still go but need to take care of my health.

 

So....(whoops....just heard beeping...the power went off here....and so did the internet.....it will probably come back on soon.....I hope....)

 

I guess where I'm going wit this is that I could get totally frustrated with all of this and be cranky and miserable or I could suck it up and move on. It is frustrating – don’t get me wrong – that I have to print and prepare for three workshops in three days and the electricity is out and I’m not actually sure how I’ll do it……BUT…..It was, after all, my choice to come to Rwanda. No body is forcing me to be here. Yes, sometimes I just want a hot shower, a reliable source of power, yogurt, CBC, and my friends. But I know I will have those things soon enough. Right now, I'm here, in Rwanda keeping it real.

 

(NB: It’s November 12 today. The internet never got working on that day…..)

In Country Training 2

November 7, 2009

This week was a fun filled week of training in the big smoke, K-town - Kigali. All 15 of us new VSO volunteers were brought to town to get a refresher of all things important for us to do our jobs. We actually arrived Friday for a meeting but not until Monday did we get to the hotel -- Le Bambou! This was a new hotel that VSO was trying out and it was in the middle of nowhere but in a place that has a great sounding name - Kabagabaga. Honestly...so much fun to say when you've had a few drinks and you're trying to get the moto driver to take you back. We all pulled up and were happy to see each other and share in our new experiences. 

We all gathered and heard and compared horror stories as well as skin concerns. “What are these bites?” and “I don’t know but they look like mine.” Of course there were the “My moto driver is the best because….” and the “My bathroom situation is worse than your’s because….” Whatever conversations we found ourselves in, they were a far cry from what we discussed when we first arrived in August. Then it was comparing flights to Kigali, anit-malaria tablets and jet lag symptoms.

The training was chalk full of sessions information us about what VSO does. We’d all pretty much mastered the keronsene stoves, water filters, saying hello in Kinyawrwanda and the like so now was a chance for us to fully understand out role in the big VSO Rwanda picture. Over all the sessions were okay although too often it turned out to be a time for us to voice concerns and forget to look for solutions. Maybe VSO is the organization that brought us here but it’s certainly not on them to solve all of our problems. Sessions included Education Advocacy, Disability in Rwanda, AIDS and HIV in Rwanda, meeting with representatives from the Education ministry and DFID. We also started every morning with Kinyarwanda lessons and we were split (by our own choice) according to ability. I was in the remedial class. Yes folks, that’s right. From being in the “Enrichment Class” in grade 5 to the redmedial class in Kinyarwanda really did impact my self esteem. However, I now feel much more confident to say “I am going home” and “It’s 6:15” than I did last time round.

The evenings were left to ourselves and because we were so far away we really couldn’t do much. We read and watched some CSI. Wednesday night we went into town and met Dianne and another Canadian for Indian food at Handee. Friday night we all went out on the town to a place called Sundowners which was a challenge to find (but a challenge we were up for!) I had met a Canadian named Ulises who studies in Sweden but is working here. He met us and I think was a welcome addition to the normally heavy-on-the-estrogen group. After Sundowners we made our way to KBC (Kigali Business Centre) which holds a bar named Planet. Yes, stop here to reflect that I went to a bar and arrived at midnight! I do recall someone saying “It’s good to do this once in a while.” And I did the math and realized that it was the first time in two months I’d been to a bar. “This means I have to only do this six times while I’m here!” I said with glee. The bar was sort of like the Legion meets Electric Circus but with worse dressers. It was comedy though and for 1000 francs for a Fanta, it better provide a few laughs. April and I grabbed two motos at about 2am so we could get some sleep. It was a short sleep because we all had to be out by 9am and this early morning wake up call was made worse but the fact that Le Bambou had run out of bloody water. No steaming up the mirror for me this morning!

Chirstine and I made our way to meet up with our new couchsurfing friends Ariane and Dmitri and their two kids. Adrian is 2 and ½ and Lucie is 6 months old. When Adrian was a baby they brought him around the world – couchsurfing the whole way. They treated us to a great pasta lunch and finished off with chocolate and….strawberries!!! WE had such a good visit with them that before we knew it it was 3pm and I was too late to catch a bus home for the market in Kibungo. So, I decided to stay the night in Kigali at good ole St Paul’s. We then met up with a girl from Montreal who is here to do some work with the Ministry of Finance. My French comprehension has no choice to improve but I’m still reluctant to speak. I need to get over that, really. I understand most of what they say but just am too nervous to speak. I’m sure it will come with him. We had a great meal at Sun and Moon and I managed to grab a taxi back to St. Paul in the rain before it really started to come down.

 

Sunday November 8, 2009

Sunday morning at St. Paul guest house means essentially one thing – waking up to the sounds of church next door. I dare say, though, it’s better than waking up to sweep, sweep, sweep. But the nice thing about St. Paul is the hot showers. Although this morning the “hot” seems to have taken a vacation. Oh well. Then I head to Bourbon to have a coffee and try the internet (which also seems to have taken a vacation) and wait for Christine and Patricia. The girls come and we talk in French and English. Okay, they talk in both languages. I talk in English and listen in French. A woman came up to us because she could tell we were Canadian. She was from Ottawa and had just seen the gorillas. She said it was amazing but was sort of clouded by the fact that on their way back they came upon a serious bus accident and, because they were first on scene, took some victims in their vehicle with them.

Patricia took us out for breakfast at the Serena hotel. It’s so amazing!! There was a pool that had a waterfall as well as beautiful bathrooms and palm trees and tiled floors. I was in heaven. Patricia is here from Montreal working with the Ministry of Finance doing consulting and training. I think she saw that as volunteers we have nothing and wanted to treat us. We’ve given her the phone numbers to some of our friends in Kigali so she can go out and about while she’s here. We left and made it back to Patricia’s hotel before the rain started and were holed up there until it stopped. Caught the bus back to Kibungo and got used to the sights of mud houses and banana trees again. I arrived in the dark to someone waving at us through the window. It was Patrick! He was gathered with all the other moto drivers and had a big smile. “Anna! How are things going?” He’s so great. So we put my suitcase on the bike and he drove me home. I told him all the Kinyarwanda I had learned while away and that I could now phone him and tell him a time in Kinyarwanda (which, when telling time here, is essentially Swahili and so everything is six hours later. Sort of confusing actually). It was so nice to see someone familiar in Kibungo. It was like arriving to someone waiting for me and I felt home. I arrived in the house and turned on the light to….nothing! My power ran out while I was away so I did everything by candlelight and kerosene lantern. I actually hung the lantern in the bathroom and though…wow, if the water wasn’t cold and dirty, and there was a bath and there weren’t spider webs it would actually be very relaxing in here. Well, I had enough juice in my computer to watch an episode of the The Office (which I had downloaded from Paul) and then hit the sack with a Miriam Keyes novel and heavy eyes. Asleep by 9:15 to prepare for a busy week of training and workshop planning.

Photos from ICT2

Most of the VSO August intake gang.

Learning Kinyarwanda if F-U-N

Blank sheet during the lesson = blank slate of learners. We were in the remedial class and could start from scratch. 

Yes, there really was a cow on the toilet. The saying "Don't have a cow" came to mind often.

Eating Indian food at Handee

These were the sheets. Even if you could look passed the blue elephants, you have to acknowledge that the plastic sheet underneath was a bit much. Honestly! Am I a five year old boy?

Trip planning for to Zanzibar.

Out at Sundowners.

Mirror, mirror on the wall

So, I'm in Kigali right now for In Country Training 2. This is part deux of the training for new volunteers. We are staying at a hotel called Le Bambou. Guess what the furniture is made of? Here's the best part though.....

In the washroom there is a mirror. And ACTUAL mirror that I can see my clothes in. That was exciting. Then, I turned on the tap in the shower and water came out that was.....hot! Hot, my friends, hot!! Like as in more than warm. And there's a proper shower head. (Still no shower curtain and the shower head is at shoulder height -- but beggars will never be choosers in Rwanda). So, I decided to have a shower. It stayed for at least 15  glorious minutes. I think this is the first things that resembles a Canadian shower that I've had since I left. It's definitely the first hot shower I've had in two months. You know, you'd think I'd be more conservative with my water usage but this was just too good to do quickly. The sad thing was, though, that when I got out of the shower the mirror had disappeared. Vanished! Gone! I could no longer see my reflection........

.......The steam from the HOT WATER was so much that the mirror fogged up!!!!!! Oh my God, I think I'm in heaven.

C'est L'halloween!

Sunday November 1, 2009

 

It’s November. I left in August. I’m sitting in a room at St. Paul’s in Kigali, listening to the rain and looking at the valley and a papaya tree outside my window, thinking about the last two months. I was on the plane over Kenya thinking “How will I be away for an entire year?” I suppose this way: one taxi-velo ride at a time….

 

After waking up Friday to no water leak, I took a slow morning of wonderful Rwandan coffee, not so wonderful Rwandan bread, did a few things – like giving two heads of cabbage to my neighbours! – and caught the bus to Kigali. Never mind that I ask, specifically, if I was catching an 11:15 am BIG bus and what turned up was a flea ridden mini-bus. But, I got the front seat and so the journey was much more comfortable that if I had to stuff my backpack and suitcase in with me. I had more stuff because I won’t be back to Kibungo until next Saturday. I have In Country Training this week here and so I packed enough things to keep me clothed and entertained while in Kigali. Then threw in my IPod and enjoyed the scenery. School just let out. We haven’t been in schools lately because they were all in exams and training will really start in November. It was cute to see all the children showing each other their report cards on the walk home. Some things are universal! I arrived in Kigali just before the rain clouds and made it to VSO for a 2pm meeting of Basic Methodology Trainers. I am still unclear of the purpose of the meeting except we discussed budgets for training for now until next March. Oh – and it was nice to see everyone.

 

Christine, Karen and I decided we’d spend Friday night in Karen’s village. She lives in the Southern Province in the Muhanga District (the district of my second offer for Rwanda…) in a village called Shoygwe. After the meeting we rushed and caught the last express bus out of town and arrived in Gitarama in time for some dinner. We went to a night club and ordered Omelette Special (omelet with veggies, meat and fries in it – AMAZING), had a few drinks and listened to Gitarama’s best karaoke performers. It was about 9:30 when we decided to catch motos to her village. So, it’s cold (no more than 15 degrees) in the mountains of the south and it’s foggy but we hop on and sail down the mail road at a clip I’m comfortable with. Then we turned off the main road on to the a dirt (read: mud) road and continue at the same said clip. The drivers were swerving to avoid puddles and mud and swerving back to avoid edge of the road. It was too foggy to really see much for the first while but we hung on and then….stopped. There was some miscommunication over the price because they thought we only wanted to pay 500 because they heard cinq cent when we said sept cent. Okay, communication cleared up and we continue on into the middle of nowhere when Karen tells the motos to stop near her house. One refused, at first, to give Christine the proper change to she hopped back on the moto until he agreed! I guess, she decided if he’s charge her an extra hundred, she’s at least get her money’s worth! Shoygwe is a village….well…..I’m not sure about that. There are a few houses and a few schools. And probably a church but it was dark so I didn’t see it.

 

We spent such as nice relaxing evening and morning though. It was umaganda the next day so – “unfortunately”, we couldn’t do anything but sit around, listen to music and drink coffee. Ah, life is tough. In order to catch a bus back to town we decided to take a taxi-velo back to the main road. Okay, Karen decided. Her words were “You can’t come to Shoygwe without getting the shit scared out of you by a taxi-velo!” For my non French speaking friends “Velo” is a word for bicycle and so taxi velo is just that….paying some to drive you on the back of the bike. Not so scary when they are going up hill but down hill….whoooo hooooo!!!!

 

We arrived in Kigali in time to do some shopping – I bought my Halloween costume and a shirt for work – ate dinner and got ready for Tom, Sarah and Christaine’s Halloween Party. Originally I was going to dress up as Jason – not from the movie but as the VSO bird watcher extraordinaire. In the end, I didn’t. There were some great costumes. I still asking myself where one finds angel wings in Kigali! As you can from the pictures, we had a great time. 

Photos

Beautiful view from Karen's house

Our hosts at Shoygwe

Velo-taxi!

Halloween decorations - just one of the many uses for mosquito nets.

Need airtime? (MTN is our phone provider and MTN air time sellers are everywhere!)

Creative costumes. 

H won. N won.

Bobbing for apples.

Video: Children at a school

I visited a school a while ago and the children wanted to sing a song they learned. The teacher asks them where their fingers are (eg. "Where is the tall man?") and the children all responds (Here I am! Here I am!) They are so sweet.

More Lake Kivu pictures

Sunrise over the lake. (Picture courtesy of Christine. There was no way I would get up that early).

Yummy food!

Synchronized swimmers?