Sorry it wasn't me. I'm a Canadian!!

Dear Nick from New Cactus,

Sorry, it wasn't me sitting there with a bunch of Americans. I'm a Canadian! (not that I wouldn't spend my time with Americans. They are very lovely people but I'm afraid I ate at Papryus that night!) But hey! Thank for telling me that this little ole blog is listed on Kigali Wire. Hope you enjoyed the meal and are loving Rwanda as much as I do!

Sincerely,

Anna

My lucky day

I came home for lunch today in the hot sun and heat that is the Rwandan dry season. Julie had been here to wash my clothes and the sun was so warm, my sheets - which she always starts first - were dry and on my bed. The rest of the clothes were hanging and nearly dry. My lucky day.

I ate lunch and called Patrick to see if he would drive me to Nyamugali. No answer. Oh well. It's just up the road so I head out of my gate to catch a bus or moto, whichever happens to come by, when who do I see? Patrick! My lucky day.

We get on the moto and we roll along the road when he begins to slow down. Surely we are there yet, Patrick? "Anna," he says as he points down a path through a thicket, "My home is down there." So I reply "When job is finished, we'll go there!" (I was needing a hug from little Pamela). My lucky day.

We arrive at the school and I am greeted by a woman that seems to know Patrick. It's a teacher at the school and his mother! I'm sure that she tells him in Kinyarwanda to drive carefully with me. Patrick says he'll be back in an hour to collect me. My lucky day.

The head master was at the school and prepared for our meeting. He has his teacher timetables and we proceed to draw up a Library timetable. He's prepared and our meeting is efficient. My lucky day.

We sit out on the veranda and I wait for Patrick. I have a few minutes as our meeting finished early. The sun is low on the horizon, a rainbow is in the distance and the breeze is gorgeous. My lucky day.

And then Patrick doesn't come.

And I try to call him but there is no answer.

So I wait.

And I try him again.

And the sky begins to get a bit darker.

And finally I reach him. He can't come because there is a "problem with the police."

The sky is getting darker still and from either direction, rain is coming.

And Patrick tells the head teacher that we will send another driver.

I wait. No driver comes.

I go out to the road. The sky is getting darker. The tempurature drops. I feel a few drops.

I wait.

Motos pass but have no helmets or no space. (I won't get on a bike without a helmet.)

Feel a drop. Then another.

A bus comes along. There is space. My lucky day.

We get closer to my house. The rain gets heavier. I tell the driver to let me off at Vundika. He knows my house - kwa Karangwa. It's pouring now. He pulls up close to my gate. My lucky day.

I rush through the house, to the back yard where my clothes, when last I saw them, were baking in the hot Kibungo sun. They were nearly dry. Now they are drenched. Every last piece of clothing is wet. I rush around trying to bring them in. It's no use. My lucky day.

Kigali International Peace Marathon

This weekend was the 6^th Annual Kigali Peace Marathon. VSO was proudly represented and I have to say that the contingent was pretty hardcore. Amy had just returned from Nairobi at 3am (after a flight delay because a baggage truck and drove into the wing and a piece fell off) and still was there at 8am ready to run the half marathon. I did think, as I was watching it, that it would be a nice life’s goal to return to Kigali n 5 or 10 years and run the half marathon – or full marathon – myself one day. But since I like running about as much as I like the beetles the size of my palm landing on my mosquito net, I may only return as a spectator once again. Here are some photos:

Waiting to begin

Nearly 15 people with disabilities participated in the race either in the 5km or 1/2 marathon!

And they're off!

Relay team members waiting for their turn

I'm only smiling because I was watching. (Never mind slits for eyes. Was fight some allergy or eye infection or something equally wonderful)

Library Project: Update and Photos

A while ago Tina, the VSO volunteer who lived here before me, put the call out to get books for the schools in Rwanda. When I arrived at our house in Kibungo there were loads and a few months later three more bags showed up! Tina had to return home before the project was complete and so I’ve been working with schools to figure out the best way to disseminate 200 books. There are 65 primary schools in this district. Most schools have close to or over 1000 students. How do we do it? So, with the support of the District we chose two schools in geographically different locations: Bare in Mutendeli sector and Nyamugali in Remera sector. To date, the Bare library is up and running and the Nyamugali library is just starting.

Monday I arrived at Bare and their schedule was complete, the desks were arranged and the books were ready to be read. In a system that is so focused on teaching grammar, literacy is suffering. The schedule has allowed for each class to have one 40 minute library period per week. I worked with the teachers to explain that this might be a 40 period where the children are not “taught” with chalk and talk but rather, they can explore the books at their own level. The teachers were so enthusiastic and supportive. They marched the little ones to the door and gave an explanation about what a library is. Word spread quickly around the school and classes began to look forward to their turn. There are 100 books in the library right now. Unfortunately, the reading level of most of the books is too high right now. These kids, besides being to new to books complete, are also new to English. As time goes one, however, I’m sure this will improve. Still, children sat and shared books. They pointed to pictures and whispered the English words – if they knew them – to their friends. While the higher level students could read and understand some of what they read, the little P1 students didn’t even know what to do. Their little feet dangled below them and their chins barely made it ot the top of the desk. A book was put in front of them and they stared. They just stared. The teacher and I spent 40 minutes showing them how to hold a book, how to look at the pictures with their friends and, when they were finished one page, how to turn to the next. It took most of the class time to get them to move from sitting quietly and staring at the book, to actively engaging in the process. By the time today – Friday – rolled around, the children got the point and were reading and talking and pointing to pictures and using the little English that they do have. The Senior 2 class was in and were so enganged that the teacher and I spent most of the time running around helping kids who wanted to know the meanings of words. At the end, each group presented a new word that they learned that class and they were annoyed when we told them their time was up.

Most people think that “kids in Africa must just be hungry for education!” It’s true, I supposed, that the kids here are well behaved in class but the secondary students hide behind the bathrooms brushing their hair when they should be in class, just like those in Canada. The boys skip out of the room the minute the teacher leaves and hide behind the water tank. They thirst for break time, like kids in Canada, and saunter back to class unless the head masters hurries them along. Kids are kids. But I believe all kids want to learn. 99% of the time, if a teacher creates the conditions for learning EVERY child will rise to the occasion. At Bare, this week, they definitely did.

Next week, the focus will be on Nyamugali school. The books have been delivered so it’s just a matter of time before we are there too. The project is not complete (as if a library will ever be complete!) but there are a number of people who have helped with this project and deserve a huge thank you. If I’ve forgotten you, I’m sorry but do know that your books have been delivered directly into the hands of the people who will use them – the children of Ngoma District in Rwanda.

Thank you to: Christine Haefele of New York; Nora from England; Jutta Oezsen, Sandy and Michael from Essen, Germany; Samie from Quebec; Gichi and Carlos; Yana; Kristin Lazure and David How; Alles Giese; Katja, Gisten, Guther and Connor; Renate; Sobi; Astrid and Max Hansen; Jenny, Tobias and Laeticia Campbell-Klomps; Sabine and her family from Berlin; Antonia and Moritz; the staff and students of the German School in London; the staff and students of Blessed John XXIII in Calgary and especially Tina Hewing – who started this big little project. Stayed tuned for more updates on how the libraries are doing.

P1 children lined up and ready to go.

S1 student reading on her own.

This is the S1 teacher, Denise, who was thrilled that kids were reading. Of course, it wasn't a free period. In addition to helping them with new words, she had kids give her a summary of what they were reading.

P6 students. This is a large class and so there aren't enough desks but the kids got cozy and read away!

P3 students

P5 students ready to come in.

P1 students

This great book is an adding book. There are slats that pull out with the answers, which the kids loved.

Waiting to come in.

Rushing into the library!

Showing me where Rwanda is on the map.

The new vocabulary from S2 students.

S2 A class had their library period today. They were engaged and enthusiastic and teaching each other English. THe teacher, Egide (standing on far left) and I just walked around helping.

These are the books heading to Nyamugali. It reminds me how few books there really are. The generosity of the donors made such a big difference with so few books. A school of 1000 students will share 100 books. It just reminds me how lucky we really are.

Kabilizi Take 2

After being greeted with "Kamasira!!", Ladislas wanted to use my camera to take pictures of the students. I had to oblige. Now, I'm not sure what Ladislas said to them to make the kids laugh so hard, but they did. I imagine it was something like "This Mzungu has food in her teeth!"

The English Club is going strong.

Bosco was chosen as chair and took his job very seriously - cutting off people if they talked too long.

Waking up at 4 am never really hurt anyone

Excuse me if, while writing this, I nod off to sleep suddenly in the middle of a sentence. And, if I don't nod off, excuse me in advance for the errors in typing do to fatigue. My guard was up walking around at 4am outside of my window. Sweeping. Picking up things. Dancing on the gravel. I don't know but what I do know is that when my guard is up, so too, is Anna.

This week has been amazing. Really amazing. The books have made their way to one library and there is a schedule and English classes were filing in, books were being read, pages flipped and smiles wide. I don't have the energy (or mental capacity) at the moment to truly do it justice so I will update this big little project on the weekend. Suffice it to say, I feel I'm making a difference!

So...two and a half days at Bare to work on the library. I hadn't even seen Jeremy in all that time so Wednesday afternoon we met for lunch. It was after a particularly hard moto ride. The dry season is upon us and so what used to be muddy roads are no potholed, dusty stretches of dirt that - when coupled with Patrick's lack of suspension and my heavy back, mean that my spine will never be the same again. My knees are aching, my back hurts and I wonder if things were this painful last season, when I arrived, or if 31 is the magic age at which moto riding becomes a chore rather than a pleasure. But I digress....

We met for lunch at St. Joseph's and noticed that there were like six mzungus there. What? Six? In Kibungo? That we don't know? We were both concerned that they hadn't given us their credentials. They couldn't possibly be here without getting passed the screening committee, could they? Well, a normal day I would have gone to say 'hello' but my bones were still vibrating from the ride, so I didn't. I'll say "hi" another day. I'm sure I'll see them again. They aren't hard to miss.

Today I called Ladislas to arrange to visit his school again. When he answered he answered with "Kamasira!!" (my Rwandan name, which I've since had translated again and it does not mean friend who is first visiting but rather, the person who was born second in the family). I wanted to get out the school during one of their English Clubs. They are committed to making this their own and part of the school culture and I can't help but feel so proud. The format today was a debate: "Urban life is better than village life." Arguments were convincing on both sides. I did have to admit that as a mzungu in Rwanda, urban life is much better. In villages we are stared at, followed and have little privacy. In the end the village life supporters won and by a large majority. I left so happy that here was a school that took one of my ideas and made it their own. This is what it's all about. Ladislas even got ahold of my camera and snapped a few good pictures of his students, which I'll post soon.

The moto rides, besides being jarring and dusty and bone rattling, have been just as beautiful and with Patrick at the helm, just as interesting as ever. Our conversations are more and more enjoyable. And if it's not a conversation with me he's having, it's one with someone on the other end of the cell phone he's talking into as we're rolling along. Seriously Patrick! Now, someone once convinced me that when one hand is on a cell phone, a driver can't accelerate so it's not that dangerous. However, it is also possible that if one had is on the cell phone, one hand is NOT on the brake. I don't know much about bikes but surely hands should be near the....uh...hand brake. No? But we made it home okay every day (Patrick saw rain clouds coming today and drove like a bat out of hell to get me to my door not 30seconds before the first drop fell). One conversation about his daughter, Pamela, though, left me feeling sad.

Me: "Patrick, my job will finish soon."

Patrick: "Anna. You go back to Canada?"

Me: "Yes Patrick. My job here is finished."

Patrick: "Anna. You go to Canada and you take Pamela." (Pamela is his daughter)

Me: "What?"

Patrick: "You take Pamela with you."

Me: "No, Patrick. Why?"

Patrick: "You take Pamela with you. There are good schools in Canada. Canada is good."

Me: "I can't take Pamela, Patrick. Her home is in Rwanda.:

Patrick: "You take Pamela with you."

That broke my heart. How serious he was, remains to be seen but the fact that it crossed his mind is, I'm sure, a foreign concept to all of us.

Tonight, Rebecca came over for dinner. She's here for six months to do some teaching through a church. She is living with a family and so has been eating Rwandan food (see post below) for two months and was just so thrilled to eat something other than rice, beans and bananas. It's so rewarding to feed someone who hasn't had a good meal in months. She was so grateful!

This weekend is the Kigali Peace Marathon which I will proudly support, from the bleachers at the Amahoro Stadium. Running is a silly, silly sport. I once heard the best reaction from a friend who, after her husband said he ran home from work replied, "Why? Were you being chased?" That to me is the only reason to run. But...it's for a good cause and Rob is even coming in from Uganda. The last time I saw him was on my Skwid course when he was skwidding off to Kampala directly from Ottawa. It will be a VSO fest but I could use it.

Random Photos for Visual Learners

Christine's garden in Nyamugali

Lettuce from the garden

Christine's new domestiques! Elise and I

Eating lunch in the garden

Who would have thought that Richard would find a St. FX sweatshirt in the market. Now, I wonder if I could find an "X" ring somewhere

In Mutendeli on our way to lunch. Leandre bought the black chicken on the right for about $3

Lunch on the BBQ - plantain and goat broachette

Billy before being butchered.

The chef in the kitchen. Notice the goat's head hanging behind him.

The finished product. This is a typical Rwandan meal: plantain (ibitoke) and goat brochette

Coffee, a naming ceremony, mud and other things Rwandan.

Today we headed out to Kabilizi A. Patrick asked me to call the head teacher before hand to ask about the condition of the road. I did and he said the umahanda was in good shape, despite the little bit of rain. Sure enough, it was fine. We passed through the same muddy patch as on our way out to Zaza. It was a rough and bumpy, but passable. For this I was thankful because Kabilizi is an extra 15 minutes passed Zaza.

The school visit was terrific. I had the head master take me to the coffee plants which are in the season to harvest them. I was so please at the school to learn that in my very, very long absense, they have continued with weekly English Club. Also, in each classroom was evidence that they had been creating visual aids using rice sacks. One of the teachers was proud to tell me that they are just buying there own. This, in the end, is the long term goal of VSO. Sustainability. And I’d found it! In a little, rural, and very poor school in the middle of nowhere! Even as I sad in the lessons, it was clear that the teachers were using more English than before, the children were understanding more and the head teacher had developed a better ability to control the students. One of the biggest challenges that the school had was, believe it or not, that children wanted to come to school even when they weren’t supposed to. Schools in Rwanda have double shifting. This means that children come in the morning and another group comes in the afternoon. But the head master found that morning children would come back in the afternoon and hang around or vice versa. Imagine! Have the problem of children wanting to comet o school. It doesn’t sound like a bad thing but the school is already full to the max and so extra children means that they hang around outside and disturb the lesson. So the head master, who is absolutely committed and understanding to his community, has created Saturday school. Four teachers come every Saturday morning and students who want to come to school for extra lessons are allowed. About 150 students come each Saturday morning! Here is a place where children were late for lunch because they were carrying water from far away to their homes, and yet they apologize for being late and promise it won’t happen again.

This is why I came here! And…it helped that I got to each lunch, again, with the wonderful staff at Kabilizi. To me, this is the best learning experience, because we sit around and they explain the cultural norms to me (like woman are not allowed to whistle because this is what farmers of cows do and women cook, they do not farm!). Around lunch today, I was even given a Rwandan name. My own naming ceremony if you will. I am now named Kanasira (at least I think that’s the spelling). It means “a friend who is the first one to visit us here.” What a day!

Hey! Mzungu! What are you looking? We're trying to learn up here!

Director and the coffee plantations of the school.

Nursery class (kingergarten) with director of the school and the nursery school teacher.

Student lining up to go inside. At the start of the year, the children would ignore the bell and run around until practically chased into the classroom!

Materials for math: red pen, blue pen, notebook and stones for counting

Head master gives a lesson on "greater than" and "less than" to a P1 class. Yes - both boys on the right are in Primary 1.

Of course, after lunch, I looked back toward Kibungo and saw dark, ominous clouds and knew that the drive back might look a bit muddy once again. I had no idea!

Why am I not on the bike? I had to go "by foot" because it was too muddy. I didn't think it would be that hard to drive in but the slipping and sliding of Patrick's back, and bald, tire, was not unlike driving up Nosehill Drive in a snow storm.

Finally....I caught up to Patrick who kept looking devestatingly at his bike. So dirty! (And yet his shoes remained remarkably clean.)

My feet on the other hand....(I learned to wear these sandals all the time after wearing unsecure shoes in the mud. My shoes kept getting stuck as I was trying to walk)

A little dirt never hurt anyone...

...I just tossed them in my washing machine when I got home!