Boy, this Internet is fast! (And other wonders about Canada)

I arrived in Canada after close to 40 hours of travelling. This is from the time I left my house in Kibungo until I arrived at the Calgary airport. The trip was totally uneventful and my suitcase came (having been searched in both Kigali and Nairobi) but uneventful is just the way I like it. The food on the plane was AMAZING. (Now, was it actually amazing or just amazing because it wasn't beans and bananas....I don't know). There were movies from London to Calgary and I had a hard time choosing what to watch. 40 hours seems like a long time but the flying/waiting time was only abou 30 hours which - again - seems long but think that I spent a 30 hour bus journey through Tanzania at Christmas with NO stoppovers, no movies, no food and no toilets. Flying is a breeze compared to that. Aimey, Ang and my parents met me a the airport. Originally my parents had asked "Do you want us to come to the airport?" to which I responded, "Well, I was hoping you'd come with a brass band but if you don't have time to organize that, I'll understand." I arrived off the plane to....a "brass band".... My parents had shakers and drums and tambourines as well as a large Rwanda flag (I tried to get one in Rwanda and couldn't) and Aimey and Ang had a large "Welcome Home" sign (truthfully is was so large that I think it was taller than Ang! ha ha). Jet leg is slowly subsiding and as it does, I've noticed many things about being back:

1. Everything smells SO good!

2. People move so fast. I did three errands yesterday and accomplished all of them...with no stress!

3. The mornings are dark, the evenings are light and the weather is cold

4. Bananas taste differently....

5. The internet connection is so fast. I don't have time to read my book while I wait for an email to send.

6. People don't stare at me anymore.

7. Water, beer and things kept in the fridge are so cold that it hurts my teeth!

So...I'm back to adapting to life in Canada. It's a short visit and I'm happy to be here. I sometimes wonder how I'll go back to bucket showers and spiders, but since I don't need to think about that, I won't. For now, I'll just enjoy it!

That's so Rwanda Part 2

There are a lot of qualities that VSO looks for when they are selecting volunteers for abroad. Flexibility...(What do mean the meeting is cancelled???). Patience. (No, no, I understand that there is no one here to accept my electricity bill. I can wait). Tolerance. (Personal space? What personal space?) No fear. (No, I know the speedometer is broken but I'm pretty sure that noise was the mini bus breaking through the sound barrier). It is also necessary to have the ability to communicate with people when there are language barriers. I give you exhibit A and B.

Exhibit A.

I recently bought for Johnny Boy a "slasher" which is the totally unscientific name for the hand held, blade which is swung like a golf club to cut grass. And I don't just mean whacking a few weeds. I mean full football (CFL, NFL and soccer) fields....BY HAND! But my grass was getting out of control and Nairobi fly is nesting there so I though, okay, let's try this. I also need shears as the hedge is out of control but this will have to wait. When I gave it to him I demonstrated saying "Imbere" (meaning, front of the house) and said (I thought, clearly) "Mujitondo, oya" (morning, no) "Ijoro, yego" (night, yes). Meaning....please don't do this at 5:30 in the morning as the grass is outside my window. Except at 5:30 the next morning he's in the back of the house with a hoe (not the slasher) digging up some weeds in part of the compound that I don't use. Okay, strike one for Anna's ability to communicate. No problem. I kindly explained again and I understood that he would "mow the lawn" during the day in the front. Okay. Good. We're on the same page. And then....as I'm on my way out the door he finds me and says, "Anna. Problem." (And I always wonder what this would lead to....someone breaking in, electrical fire, you know...that sort of thing). I give myself a big sigh and remember - patience - and walk outside. Jean has already cut the grass but next to the out of control hedge has his swiss army knife with the nail scissors out. He take the scissors (nail scissors the size of a quarter) and looks at me. "Anna. Problem." (Tranlation: Anna, I can't trim the hedge with nail clippers.) Sigh. 

Exhibit B

Consolee, who by the way is distraught with the fact that I'm going for a few weeks, was in her shop yesterday and I went into to buy air time. A couple hundred Francs should do it. So I walk in and ask "Ndashaka airtime" (Common for people to combine Kinyarwanda with a little English - or French). So came to me and quietly said "Do you want a bag?" At which point I wonder A bag? For a card? "No....I reply. It's okay..." And she looks at me strange and walk over, points to the maxi-pads with the brand name "Everytime" and says "Are you sure you don't want a bag?" I start laughing and say "No! Consolee! Not "Everytime", I want "Air time!" She started to laugh so hard that tears rolled down her cheeks as she explained to me that what I should have asked for was "une carte". Okay...next time......

Johnny Boy's new hedge trimmers

Library Project: Bare School

Today was the day…and not a moment to soon! I'm glad I was able to get out there before heading home for a few weeks.

 

Tina worked so hard in the last year and put a call out to her friends around the world. That callw as answered and books were sent to Kibungo. Since then, I have been working with the head teachers at two schools to set up a space that would work for a library. There were two main criteria: 1) That the books were kept secure and 2) (and most importantly) that children had access to them.

 

On Monday I was not feeling well but Leandre came anyway to get half of the books. He put them in a big ole rice sack, put them on the back of the moto, then into a bus and out to the village of Mutendeli where his school, Bare, is.  Today I managed to visit the school. I’m feeling better and there is no rain! When I arrived I was more than impressed. The library was clean the shelves were up and all the library books and textbooks had been neatly placed. I worked with the library team – a group of four teachers that the head teacher selected – and we determined our objectives for the next month. We have a schedule of classroom visits to begin in the second term (May) and we will post this up. We will also have an assembly to introduce the children to the concept of  a library – how to hold a book, how to share a book and how to return a book back to its place. Libraries in schools are virtually unheard of for many children and this is a new concept. The teachers had a chance to look at the books today too. The most important thing is that the children use the books and this is the next phase of the library project.

 

For everyone who sent books WELL DONE! Thank you!!! If you are interested in donating to the library, please send me  - or Tina – an email. The quality of the books that had been send were outstanding and I would like this to continue. The books should be new or hardly used. They should also be mailed by the end of April to ensure that they arrive while I’m here – the school does not yet have a post box of its own. I will write more later and thank all of you by name. For now, thanks again and soon…the pictures will be of children reading them!

Our library team: Peter, Aphrodise, Egide and Clarisse

Teachers get a first look at the books

The Bare Staff in the library

A picture of everyone!

Patrick arrived early and they boys were interested in the moto....

....until they noticed the camera.

And they they REALLY noticed the camera

Me and Jeremy with Leandre in his office

In an effort to fall asleep

Here I sit, under the cover of my mosquito net and wonder why I can’t fall asleep. Is it the fact that I worry the bed bugs will get me? Nope. Every since my new mattress arrived from VSO, I boiled my clothes and I fumigated my room I have been bite free. Maybe I should read? Well, did that. Just finished the January 18^th edition of Maclean’s that came in the mail last week. (At least the short articles. I can never find the energy for the long ones. Can anyone?). Maybe I’m worried about getting malaria. Nope. Not that either. I take my doxy and sleep under a net and … well there’s no use drinking gin any more since I learned that quinine isn’t in the gin – it’s in the tonic. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m composing blog entries in my head. Nope…well…okay…in part, yes. That’s probably why I’m laying awake. But more likely is the fact that I’m getting on a plane in two days and heading home for a visit.  (The word “home” for me now has two meanings as I referred to Kibungo as my “home” in an email today as in “Thanks for the DVDs in the mail. I think I’ll save them for when I come home”)

 

Work has been slow this week. (Partially because it’s only Tuesday) I stayed home Monday because I was not feeling all that well. Suzanne was kind enough to take me to the clinic so I could get a malaria test – just to be on the safe side. (Remember – not drinking gin and tonics). Not only did the friendly folks find that I was negative for malaria but they also brought me back for a little chat and welcome to Kibungo. (I feel VERY happy that I’m welcomed to the clinic 7 months in. I did tell them I was hoping to never see them again!). Suzaane has a terrible time as she was helpful the entire time until the lab tech brought out the needle. I thought she would faint!

 

Today I went back to the clinic on my way to the post office (for said package with said DVDs!) and back to the clinic only to get caught in a rain storm an unable to leave. Finally, as the rain let up, I put my back under my coat to keep it dry, grabbed my umbrella and made my way to the town centre to both inquire about garden shears and catch a bus to the district. I stopped in to the district before going home for lunch and during my walk I was getting more than the usual stares. I realized why. Here I had my bag under my coat at my stomach so I looked like a pregnant muzungu in her eighth month. Definitely not a common sight in Kibungo. I wonder what they though when they saw me three hours later, after the rain had stopped and I was wearing my bag outside of my coat – and 25 pounds lighter!

 

This may be my last post before I jump on the planed headed west. (Or North as I think I head to Europe and then , up, up, over the pole….) And so, as I sit in my mosquito net – come – fort, I hope that now that this entry is up, I can fall asleep a little bit faster. And if worse comes comes to worst, I will try reading the long articles in Maclean’s afterall. 

And because I've been lacking in the last few weeks in the photo department here are a few:

Christine introducing maple syrup to "Auditor"

Maple Syrup in a Nido Tin: Canada meets Rwanda

The friendly staff at the Kibungo Health centre!

Yogurt in Kibungo

So maybe an update of the week instead of the, of late, insults directed at the Alberta Tories...

Monday I stayed home because I wasn't feeling well. Nothing serious - or at least nothing that time and Imodium would settle. It began on Saturday with the bookswap. Did I talk about that yet? No? Okay....start from the beginning...

Saturday, as you know, was book swap. It was a full house but no thanks to me. More thanks to the VolCom (Volunteer Committee) meeting that was at 10am and the fact that many people had arrived to Kigali for a major birthday party that night. I was happy to get two books. 1) The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy.  I've already finished this one and it was really good but I'll have to disagree with my Vice Prinicpal at my school at home. It isn't one of my favourite books but I was glad I read it. The writing was different and it was nice to read another well written book that takes place in India. 2) The Dream Catcher by Stephen King. Yes folks, I do like Stephen King. Ever since I read "Eyes of the Dragon" when I was, like, 10. And since watching Stand By Me and It. I just started it this morning. I'll you know.....

Christine and I came back to Kibungo Saturday night and it was a good thing because I started to feel a big off. We climbed on the bug and - thankfully - they have a new bus station in Kayonza which includes toilets. The rest of the way home was okay but I was glad that Christine was with me in the evening to heat up our supper.

We lazed around Sunday morning and finally made it to her village to have an afternoon brunch of French toast and....wait for it.... MAPLE SYRUP. I'm not one of those Canadians who never east maple syprup until their abraod and tell everyone that it is our culturally unifying symbol. No - I actually love the stuff. I like the real maple syrup best but in university did douse my entire breakfast (powered eggs and frozen sausages) in the fake stuff, just to make it edible.

Sunday night was back and begun to feel off again. Went to bed early and woke up feeling like I didnt' want to chance a moto ride to a school with a pit latrine. Nor did I want to walk to district where the toilets are sometimes locked and when they are open, they rarely flush. I did work from home and did walk up to the district in the afternoon because I was feeling better. 

Tuesday I went to a school in town and was greeted by a great staff again. Some of teachers did their "homework" which was to create rice sacks. The rest hadn't. In three weeks, they didn't even have English club even though at first they told me they had. I was disappointed because the head teacher had agreed to support the teachers and he obviously hadn't. It was frustrating but I have assurances that the school will in the next few weeks. Our Kinyarwanda lesson was postponed as Jeremy had found himself out in Jarama at 5pm and it's a one hour trip by motorbike, at least!

Wednesday I was out at Bare and am always happy to go. The head teacher is organized and encouraging. We've planned to have a staff volley ball game when Aimey comes for a visit in July. Teachers will play and kids will watch. I think I may just take photos. I was once convinced to play in the competitive league for the ATA tournament and nursed blackened arms for a week after! My principal still gives me a hard time for it -- and I give him an equally hard time for pushing me out of the way so we didn't lose the point. I was okay with this (I'm not a competitive person) but was a bit more worried when one of my teammates says "When this guy serves, Anna, just cover your face." I suppose it was easy for the other team to find the weakest link. A few year's later I was playing again - this time in the recreational leagugue - and I was smoked in the chest first, then as I was nursing a sore breastbone, a stray ball from the game next to us made it's way over and hit me on the head. HONESTLY! This sport is NOT for me......

Wednesday night was...of course...St. Patrick's Day. I forced the two Js to have a beer with me at St. Joseph's. They do serve Guinness but even on St. Patrick's day, i don't think it's worth it. Primus for me, thank you very much. Gerard met us and then drove us home IN HIS CAR. I have sat in exactly two cars in Rwanda. This was my second. Very exciting....

Thursday we had a meeting with head teachers which, as par for the course, started over an hour late. Not due to Jeremy's planning, but rather to the massive rain storm that fell the night before. It makes roads tricky and everyone starts things late. We did have Kinyarwanda lesson after this.

Friday was a slower day but I think I needed it. I prepared a presentation for a meeting on Monday and then called it a day. Christine came over again (after getting a lift to Kibungo because the busses had stopped running). We drank Waraji and then to bed early. Saturday was going to be busy. 

Before 9am we collectively had already been to the  market, done photocopying and been to the bank. We hopped on a 'small' bus and chatted all the way to Kigali - me sitting on the crack of the jump seat the whole way. We we finally got off in Remera, I could barely walk. We were so productive. I picked up a skirt I was having made, bought peanut butter, went the craft cooperative for a few things, to Nakumatt for lentils and by 2:30 we were at Arian and Dmitri's for Adrien's 3rd birthday party. Of course we couldn't stay long. We caught the 4pm bus (barely making it as we only left the party at 3:45!). Walking home from the bus station my parents called to chat and I settled into my couch to watch some How I Met Your Mother!

Today has already been productive - I finished my book and started another, I'm "blogging", I've topped up all my water and I cleaned my filter. I've even started packing! 

And so, I leave you with a piece of news that is the biggest thing to happen to me this week. I found out that you can by yogurt in Kibungo!!!! I think this might actually change my life. First, the garage next door began selling cash power (so I no longer have to go into town when my electricity runs out) and now YOGURT!! This means that I can start introducing calcium into my diet. I was so excited at the shop that I think the guy thought I was crazy -- especially because I think they have been selling it all year but it's kept in the fridge and so if I hadn't been there and seen them put it in, I would never have known. YOGURT!!! I don't have to go to Kigali any more just have it! I can buy one a day (remember, I don't have a fridge). And it's not like there is a choice of flavour or brand -- it's strawberry from Inyange -- but choice is something I'm learning to live with. 

When did I become an Albertan?

It must have happened over night. While I was sleeping.

 

I grew up all over – the Yukon, the NWT and Alberta. I never really felt that I had a “home”. I did have many homes and different stages in my life but nowhere that I would say “Yeah, I’m from ….” My family is from Nova Scotia and, when we weren’t rolling down the Dempster Highway (“rolling” being a euphemism from trying to get the 1975 Ford Elite and tent trailer through the mud) we were travelling out East to visit Aunts and Uncles and Black Brook beach. I was always convinced that I was destined to be a maritimer. I was convinced that I was one. There was more Rita McNeil in me (if she fit) than Ian Tyson.  But somewhere between “We Rise Again” and the Rise and Follies “shark, Cecil! Get out of the waaaater Cecil!”, I fell asleep and woke up thinking about the prairies. Oh crap. I’m an Albertan. What if start voting Conservative?

 

I think this happened while I was in Africa because, as you do, I realized that the land of Big Sky, Big Oil and Big SUVs is not so bad after all. (Big SUVs and Big Oil aside). Despite what the Guardian Weekly has been saying about Canada lately:  How we messed up the Olympics and Alberta’s beloved tar sands (okay, perhaps a blight on the face of the north and not so beloved), I still believe there are some real gems to be found and, when you’re half a world away, missed.

 

I’m like the Quebecois who might call himself/herself a Canadian abroad. I’m beginning to admit, folks, that I’m an Albertan. (Seriously…what if I start voting Conservative?)

 

Since I’ve been here I’ve become homesick for all of those Alberta (with the exception of the aforementioned tar sands, SUVs and with the addition of Ralph Klein and the lack of public transit). See Alberta also has its “Big Five.” But it’s not the lion, elephant, rhino, buffalo and leopard. It’s Calgary, Edmonton, Grande Prairie, Lethbridge and Red Deer. (Sorry Medicine Hat. You didn’t make the cut). And of the five, I’ve lived in four. So, I’m Albertan.

 

And as I’ve been preparing to make a visit home next week, I’ve been listening to a Playlist I made around Christmas for my brother who was contemplating moving to Vancouver. “Remember your roots,” I wrote. We’re not all about Ashley MacIsaac (even though he is amazing and his dad gave my family one his son’s tapes from the trunk of his car in the early nineties) or Rita MacNeil (even though we met her in Big Pond – no, not her nickname – after she stepped on my brother’s toe!). So I’ve been listening to this playlist and dreaming of stepping off the plane into the cold. But a dry cold.

 

1.     Western Skies – Blue Rodeo

Not popular as Gordon Lightfoot’s Alberta Bound, I think this one sums it up better. “I’d rather”….be by the Bow River, watch the sun behind Saddle Mountain, walk about Lake Louise, listen to the wind whisper my name, at a Starbucks…(okay, that’s not part of the song).

 

2.      (Gonna) Shine Up My Boots – Corb Lund Band

See, I lived in Lethbridge and did some work in Taber and, besides corn, I’m pretty sure Corb Land put this little western town on the map.

 

3.     Can I Take My Gun To Heaven? – Cracker

Can I? If vote for the Wild Rose Alliance party then maybe. Just maybe.

 

4.     Yellow November – Darrek Anderson

“Yellow November, Alberta highway. Roll the windows down and just go straight.” I remember my countless drives around Lethbridge in November when the wheat would peak through the blanket of snow. (I also remember the white out conditions that the snow caused when hurricane force winds would blow….)

 

5.     Leaving Edmonton – David Francey

"I“ I was killing time ‘till the fall of night. Looked in all the windows, took a walk down Whyte.” Really – is there a better place in Alberta than Whyte Ave?

 

6.     Four Strong Winds – Ian Tyson

Of course, the version I have is by Blue Rodeo (everything goes better with Blue Rodeo) but the message is the same: head to Alberta to look for work. We may be less boom lately, but weather’s still good there in the fall…..or at  the end of March. Whatever.

 

7.     Alberta Bound – Gordon Lightfoot

The quintessential returnee tune.  Seriously, next time you’re abroad, put this little ditty on your IPod and you’ll want to be catching the first flight to YYC. Even if you’re not an Alberta, it will make you wish you were. (Unless, you’re from Saskatchewan. Those fans are crazy!) “The Rocky Mountain sunset. It’s a pleasure just to be Alberta bound.”

 

8.     Countrywide Soul – Jim Cuddy

“You sure walk along slow. That’s the only speed I’ve ever seen you go.” Oh. Wait. That part is about Rwanda….. But driving at night under Prairie stars is pretty beautiful.

 

9.     Streets of Calgary – David Francey

Okay, I’ll be honest. This song is about looking at a prostitute on 3^rd Ave high from a hotel downtown. So maybe it’s not all that favourable about returning home, it does bring back fond memories of living in the East Village. (FYI – the non emergency number for the Calgary police CAN be memorized and dialing 911 is not always necessary).

 

10. Take Me Home, Country Roads – John Denver

Okay, okay. Maybe West Virginia and the Blue Ridge Mountains are exactly Alberta but you get the idea.

 

11. Alberta Bound – Paul Brandt

“Rocky Mountains and black fertile ground”. I tried to avoid putting “real” country music on this playlist but, sadly, it was unavoidable.

 

12. Wheat Kings – The Tragically Hip

This song isn’t even about Alberta but rather, about David Milgaard and his wrongful conviction (there’s a bit about the CBC) but I remember listening to this song driving through the prairies near Camrose on our way to Road Side Attraction concert to see the Tragically Hip in 1997. As we turned onto one road that was lined on both sides by acres of wheat the beginning of this song came on “Sundown in the Paris of the prairies…..”

 

So, there it is. The twelve songs that will have you putting on a Stetson and cracking open a Pilsner. OR just admiring the beauty and splendor of the Rocky Mountains as the sun rises over the prairies. There really is nothing quite like it. And if you’re too worried about admitting that you’re Albertan, don’t worry. It doesn’t necessarily mean you have to have a truck. But if you do, things would better if your bumper sticker said “Friends don’t let friends vote Conservative.”

 

I'll Take "Bug Bites and Other Rashes" for 100,000 Francs, please Alex.

There is a lot of time to think here. Have I ever mentioned that? Like on busses, on motos, at night in my house. A lot of thinking time. So I think about random things – like specific heat capacity. You’d be surprise how often I think of it. For example, I have just boiled a pot of water for a shower. I’ll shower in 20 minutes. Where should I keep the water – in the steel pot or in the plastic basin? Or I’ve made some coffee in the press, how much should I pour into my cup for the first cup so that I leave just enough in the press so that it stays hot enough for my second cup? Then I wonder, is this even specific heat capacity at all or is it another sciency phenomenon that I was supposed to learn when I was taking Chem 30 by correspondence in grade 12. Oh my mom would be so disappointed right now!! Still…these are the things I think about. Also, Jeopardy. That’s right, Jeopardy. Like what would it be like if there was a Rwandan Jeopardy and in which categories would I excel.

 

My students once asked me “Miss, have you always wanted to be a teacher?”

 

“Well, not exactly” (My parents would disagree because we had a chalk board in one of our houses in Whitehorse and when I was a kid I used “teach” things to no one in particular. I think I just like standing in front of a chalk board…..)

 

“My first degree is actually a degree in Political Science and History” (and this is where I begin to lose them except I continue by saying) “I took that degree because I thought it would help me in Jeopardy.”

 

Okay, now you’re all probably thinking that I’m crazy. The truth is, I always did want to be a teacher and I could have gone into Education right away but I really felt that I needed my B.A so that I could do well in Jeopardy. This was my goal. I think that most of the questions on Jeopardy are about history and geography except the really hard ones about literature (like obscure phrases from the lesser known works of one of the Bronte sisters) and sciencey ones which are generally pretty basic (especially if there are questions about specific heat capacities). So, there I was, U of A student working along side all these wanna-be lawyers and reluctant to admit that no, I wasn’t really interested in writing my LSAT. (I did toy with it for a few short weeks in my third year). I even took a history course about the Atlantic provinces which was a night class on Wednesdays and held in the Tory building and I, living in HUB mall, could race home during the break to catch the beginning of Jeopardy with Laurel. Sometimes I never went back to class! Whoops….. but the history of Eastern Canada? Okay here it is: three provinces wanted to be part of Canada, there were some Acadians, Halifax explosion, Anne of Green Gables and Joey Smallwood. Got it. And who are kidding? That was NEVER going to be a final Jeopardy. I was much better off practicing in my living room. And while some of Jeopardy is less about knowledge and more about patterns and strategy (we figured that if the ‘answer’ was a “native American woman’ the ‘question’ was almost always “Pocahontas”) the knowledge component is still pretty important.

 

And where am I going with this?

 

So, I was thinking….”What if there was a Rwandan Jeopardy?” What would the categories be? How many francs would I bet in the final Jeopardy? (I suppose that would depend on the category and whether I was playing against Ken Jennings….) I’ve thought of a few categories in which I would excel, namely:

·      Telling time in Rwanda(‘simply’ add six and convert into Kinyarwanda or Swahili depending but you’ll need to know when to translate into what. And if that fails, say it I French. And if you still can’t say it, write it down!)

·      Words that start with R…uh…L….uh….R….uh….L (Answer: this four – legged bouncy bunny with two long ears has this other name.)

·      Kenny and/or Dolly songs (I have heard the following no less than 10 times at decimals no less that ‘holy-crap-my-ear-drum-just-burst’: Islands in the Stream, the Gambler, Coward of the Country and Coat of Many Colours – of which I know the words too ALL of them! Sadly, I knew them before I arrived in Rwanda.)

·      Name that Stamp! (Contestants would be shown an official stamp – not a photocopy – and must correctly name the district)

·      Bug Bites and Other Rashes (again, contestants would look at a picture and name the cause of the bite/rash. VSO could even supply its volunteers as models because God knows that, as a group, we’ve had everything! Me? I’m an expert in Nairobi Fly, thank you very much. At least I’m sure that’s what it was.)

Of course, what would the final Jeopardy category be? (Because we ALL know that the outcome of the game can change in a few short – 30 – seconds and some strategic betting). But I envision it going something like this:

 

“And the final Jeopardy category is….pause to show screen….Acceptable passenger numbers in buses. We will be right back.”

 

And now its’ a commercial break and that’s where me (and the other two contestants) would place our bids and I’m thinking that I wouldn’t risk all of my Francs at this point even though I’m pretty sure I know the answer.

 

So when we return, Alex reads the answer.

 

“The category is Acceptable passenger numbers in buses and the answer is: In a Sotra bus, how many people is an acceptable number? Good luck”

 

Do, do, do, do

Do, do, dooo

Do, do, do, do, do!

D-d-d-d-do (Repeat twice)

 

“Okay, Anna, we’ll start with you. And you wrote:

 

Honestly! How do we answer this question? First – are we talking about a big bus or a small bus. In a small bus, from the outside we might think it can hold 10 people or so but at closer inspection inside, it looks like 15 could sit comfortably but I’ve noticed that it always fills to 19 and this is capacity  - and comfort isn’t a concern - and sometimes we can add a few more, bringing the total to around 21. And that doesn’t include children and babies sitting on the laps of their parents. Nor does it include the chicken walking around at the back. And, so if we add all of these together I believe that the correct number is 25! 25 people, including babies and children and animals”

 

The look on my face will tell Alex and the crowd that I’m actually quiet pleased with myself, especially for writing all of it that small on my little etch-e-sketch pad thing. And I grin for the camera and wait for Alex to say “Correct and what did you wager?” Until Alex says:

 

“I’m sorry. You did not write your answer in the form of a question.”

To coast: to move easily without power

My first moto ride in Rwanda was to a school called Rukira in Murama Sector. At the time I was holding on for dear life – contemplating jumping off – and wondering how I was going to do this for the next 12 months. Cruising down the highway as it snaked toward Tanzania, I smiled at Tina to let her know I was enjoying this when in my head I was thinking, “Are you kidding me?” I got off and my legs and arms were shaking so badly but I toughed it out. Six months and countless moto rides later, it has become the best part about living here. Today as we drove to Rukira, the mist was in the valley and when Patrick cut his motor to save power, all I could hear was the wind whistling through my helmet. It was absolutely memorable. It was beautiful. We coasted for a while until inertia caught up with us and, without thinking lifted my right leg so Patrick could start the bike again. 

Angelique, who is the head master of Rukira, is always so welcoming and also so willing to let me speak French with her. We organized all the teachers and for the morning made visual aids. I know that visual aids will never replace good teaching, and I know that these teachers may not have the time to create these on their own and so this is perhaps not entirely sustainable, but the fact is the classrooms here lack visual exposure to concepts that children need to see frequently. If I can encourage, even a few teachers, to begin using rice sacks to create visual aids, then that is hundreds of kids that will benefit. Plus, because there are 65 schools and one of me, its something concrete I can demonstrate and help with which requires little follow up if there is a head teacher that is determined (which Angelique is!) I have found that this is a difficult concept for teachers because they, as students, were not exposed to them. In the west, we have all seen caldeners and number lines and periodic tables for ever! They got us to look around and see that learning is everywhere. But this is a new concept here.

 

I begin by having teachers write their name on name cards. Then we all stand back and judge to see who’s is the easiet to read. The ones that are clear, simple, centred and with minimal white space are clearly the best – we all agree. Then I ask them to write their names again so that a P1 child could easily read it.

 

We go from there where we talk about what should be on a rice sack, and what is better left to chalk and chalkboard. I focus on teachers chosing basic and fundamental skills instead of specific concepts. For the most part teachers come up with great ideas on their own. Basically, I think they just need the time to do this. They teach from 7:20 until 5pm with an hour for lunch and maybe 40 minutes of prep time. It’s enough for us – in the west – to run a few store bought items through the laminator but it’s not enough time. So fort 3 hours today we cut and sealed and drew and it was fantastic!

 

The drive home was in stark contrast to the early morning coast down through the valley. We got stuck behind a bus chuffing out black smoke all the way up the hill. We finally managed to pass it only to be caught behind another trailer truck and another, and another…..

 

At home I popped into Moses’ restaurant to have a look. We shared a Fanta as he told me that his business is doing well. It’s right next to Moderne and so I asked him if he’d be stealing customers away from his dad. He just laughed. Moses – incase I haven’t mentioned him before – is a 21 year old former teacher. He is really trying to improve his English but left teaching, even though he left it, because he could make more at the restaurant.

 

So here I sit, enjoying Friday afternoon (I did some work from home as the office was locked and I gave Jeremy the key because he’s usually there more than me). Tomorrow I head to Kigali again for book swap and I only hope this time, when I use the hand dryer at the UTC washroom, a cockroach does not fall out of it.

 

Have a great weekend everybody!

Flowers at Rukira school

Ready for the workshop to begin

Science teacher

Math teachers writing a multiplication chart.

Another math teacher

Adjectives and adverbs

P1 English Teacher

Another math teacher

Our finished products

Moses infront of his restaurant which, in Kinyarwanda, means "Unity Restaurant"

Inside

In the kitchen

Anna who?

Okay, so the "What I'm Reading" section might be a little bit misleading. I originally put it up because the friends that know me will, inevitably ask during a conversation, "So, what are you reading now?" Sadly, folks, I have given up on Miss Anna Karenina. Okay, okay. I know, I know. It's a classic. I get it. But it's like almost 800 pages! Now, I'm not afraid of long books. One of my favourites is Pillars of the Earth and if you haven't read it then, well, you just haven't read anything! No, I like long books. But HONESTLY...Russia??? And 19th Century Russia??? Tsars and sledges and vodka? Come on! I thought that when the Alberta government changed the Grade 9 social studies curriculum I would be finished trying to pronounce the Urals and I wouldn't lose anymore sleep wondering whether it was Tsar or Czar. But no... then I met Anna K. and she has sat next to my bed (patiently, mind you) mocking the fact that I've been reading Jodi Picoult and Sophie Kinsella instead. So - I put it away. But....

But....I did the same thing with Pride and Prejudice and East of Eden. I put them away too, tried them a few years later and they ended up being two of my favourite books. For now, however, I think I'll give her a bit of a break. 

Instead, I'm reading a Shopaholic book. I know! (It's not even well written trash) I'm leaving my "What I'm Reading" the way it is for now, though, lest it be obviously what I'm reading. 

Thank God book swap is on Saturday!

A weekend visiting the King's Palace

I just arrived back in Kibungo on a bus with leaking sulfuric acid and a driver with a lazy eye. But more of that later. It’s been a while and you need an update. Where were we? Oh, right. I turned 31 and you were all here to commiserate with me.

 

I spent the week working. At schools. On motorcycles. I think I probably bought sweet potatoes and bananas at the market. My power probably went out at least once. As did my water. Probably.

 

On Friday, Christine and I headed out of the Eastern Province to have a birthday weekend and visit some other volunteers. We arrived in Kibungo on Friday and had a quick lunch before catching the bus to Gitarama. We arrived (and ran into another volunteer in town) went to the bank and then caught motos to Karen’s house. I think I’m pretty tough on a moto but this driver was missing a key element to his protection – the visor of his helmet. Normally, this would not be a problem and might actually improve your vision since the visors typically are cracked and have tape downt he centre to repair it. But this time, driving fast through dirt roads meant that the driver’s eyes were watering and he kept closing his eyes to wipe them. CLOSING HIS EYES WHILE DRIVING A MOTORCYCLE. We would serve all over the road. The road to Shogywe (as with most roads this time of year) are full are puddles, ruts and pot holes because of the rainy season. A skilled driver would have recognized these and planned his path accordingly. There is always a smooth moto path. However, when said driver has his eyes closed, it means not seeing a rut until the last minute and either a) swerving to avoid it, b) bumping over it or c) a combination of swerving but still hitting it which sent me flying off the seat and landing with a ‘thud’ back down. Awesome. We arrived just in time for dinner of ugali (a corn flour mixture) and little fish from the market. Helen joined us from Gits for dinner as did Inka, who is a Dutch girl living in Shogywe and teaching. Her accommodation is the bishop’s old house which includes no less than (I would guess) 12 bedrooms! The place is a maze. It’s a wonder how she remembers to turn off all the lights before going to bed!

 

Saturday morning we enjoyed a usual breakfast of bread, bananas, peanut butter and coffee but it’s always so much better with company. We headed south to Nyanza – after being charged 1400 for a ticket, the bus pulling up, calling Melanie to ask her the proper price, people yelling and shouting and us wanting to get on the bus that was, uh oh, starting it’s motor…. (For the record, Gitarama to Nyanza is only 1000 Francs).  We arrived and decided to chance lunch quickly before visiting the King’s Palace. Into Sun Life (this place looks good), looking at the menu (is that really necessary in a country where there are five standard things on a menu, and no more?) and settled in to a nice Omelette Special – until Christine found a hair in hers. A storm hit as we were eating (thankfully not on motos) and we waited it out before leaving. We got motos the palace and, umbrellas in hand, took a quick tour. We arrived late and they were only open a few hours and it rainted the whole time but at least our guide offered us a ride to the centre in a bus that was chartered, I think, just for the workers. She even spoke to Melanie to get directions to her house and then to the moto driver to tell him where to go.  She said she’s wait outside of her house and as we pulled along the road you couldn’t miss her (bright red VSO t-shirt and a large rainbow umbrella!) unless you were the moto driver. In that case, you’d stop at the house just before the muzungu. So, we had to clarify that we were actually going to meet the other muzungu. We had a lovely evening and a good meal and even a bit of Waraji (Rwandan gin).

 

The next morning (Sunday) we spent too much time chatting over breakfast and were rushing to catch the 9am bus to Kigali so we could meet Karen and Victor at Heaven for breakfast. This was an amazing brunch. Like, you know when you have good food and you say “Oh my God! I’m in heaven?” Yeah…like that. Only literally….

 

I arrived home and enjoyed a quiet evening before…..heading back to Kigali on Monday!

 

The intention was to be in Kigali Monday through to Wednesday to work on the General Paper curriculum and have a scheduled meeting with the NCDC but Sunday night found out that, for the second time, it had been cancelled. AGAIN! Sarah and I decided to meet Monday anyway to at least complete the curriculum which included dividing the objectives into a three year plan. We did this, enjoyably, at Bourbon where we might have overstayed our welcome but hey! at least the cake was good! We ate brochettes for dinner, enjoyed a Primus and then headed to (ugh) St. Paul.

 

In the morning we went to everyone’s favourite coffee shop, Bourbon, (after I bought electricity at Nakumatt) where I ordered my usual – French press with milk – and just as I was logging on to Skype and made a run to the bathroom. The good news: it was the first time I’ve been sick in Rwanda. The bad news: They STILL charged me 100Rwf to use the toilet. To be sick! Thanks for the sympathy.

 

And then, I boarded a bus with, as I said, a driver with a lazy eye, a cockroach on the floor and a jug of sulphuric acid that was on its side infront of me that leaked through the entire journey. When I arrived home I punched in my electricity code and just in the nick of time. I was down to 3 KwH! (I use about 2 per day).

 

And now it feels like a short week. A few days of school visits and the book swap in, you guessed it, Kigali, on Saturday. 

For all of their faults (fleas, cockroaches, dripping sulphuric acid, bags that go flying out of the back that they thought was locked....) Rwandan busses are extremely punctual...ponctuel...whatever. On time!

Typical Rwanda kitchen - kerosene stove (volunteers) and bag of coal (for volunteers who are brave and patient enough to cook on charcoal)

Eating ugali. 

Rainy day in Nyanza

Two queens at the King's Palace. (Quintessentially Rwanda picture - crooked!)

Traditional milk jugs

The King's Palace in Nyanza

Notice the rain on the sign

Your chariot awaits!

I love moto rides in the rain!

Now that I'm closer to 40 than to 20.... Sigh

While most things have been positive, I'm sad to say that March 1st wasn't so.... I turned 31 and am one step closer to the following: death (okay, a bit extreme), finding grey hairs, retirement (not so bad, actually), beginning to drive really slow, believing that a pension is important, false teeth, wrinkles, Depends and Centrum. Now, I'm not one to really complain about my age. I have the pleausre of constantly fooling people about my age. People find it very hard to believe that I'm closer to forty than twenty. One man thought I was 15, which was not even flattering it was so ridiculous. But I know that I don't look my age (or act it, for that matter). I am happy to say that I'm happy with life at at my ripe old age, that's all I can ask for. So, to celebrate taking these steps closer to forty, I decided to call upon my favourite people in Kibungo and enjoy Primus, goat brochettes and the BEST chips this side of the Akagera River. Jeremy and Jason are my VSO partners in crime. (Education is our business, and business is GOOD!). Jeremy treated me to a few chocolate bars, also. (How does he ALWAYS know when I'm running out?) Elie is my French, come Kinyarwanda teacher who's last name means "moving from one place to another" because that's what his mom was doing when she gave birth. He is so easy going, so hard working and a wealth of information. Frodauld is my boss (soon to be ex-boss, as he has decided to pursue his Master's full time). He is so great and looks at the world in such a great way. When he arrived, after us, he noticed taht we all had big Primus bottles except for Elie, who was drinking Sprite. "Oh Elie," he said "You have disrupted the harmony!" And Suzanne who is my saviour. It's she who I turn to when I need help, have a question or just want some company with estrogen! 

In all, it was a memorable birthday but not just because I was sitting in East Africa but because I was with good friends as well. Of course, there were a few moments when I was a bit homesick. Last year I also spent my birthday with family and friends and missed them yesterday. BUT I did get the mid morning (hey, it's 2am in Calgary!) text from my brother and a phone call from Aimey. Of course, there were a few "wallpost" on Facebook, which is nice. My parents also called while I was in the middle of a workshop but the teachers were thrilled to know it was my mom and dad. My dad even wrote me an email:

"We missed you on your birthday. The cake was delicious." Sigh. 

Notice:Primus, chips, brochettes, pili pili and ...smiles! (Now where is the cheese...?)

Suzanne and Frodauld making me laugh. (Frodauld hates his picture being taken)

Me, Froduald, Jeremy, Elie, Jason and Suzanne

Frodauld and Teddy. (This bear was left by Tina for me to give to Frodauld for his two children. He was just going to stuff poor tedding in the computer bag until we told him that his head had to peek out to breathe. He walked the whole way home this way.)