Have I ever told you about Chang?

Saying goodbye to Rwanda at the Kigali airport

Before the days of Facebook, there was Chang. Chang was a friend of my dad’s that he met volunteering with CUSO in Africa in 60s. And wherever we moved, wherever we went, Chang would find us. Out of the blue, after a few years. And I imagined the conversations going something like this:

“J! I’m in town!”, I imagined Chang saying.

“Great. Come over for a drink. It’s been years….”, I imagined the response.

And as kids, years felt like a life time so we found a bit odd that a stranger would show up at our house from Africa and…wait a minute!...didn’t we just move and how does he find us? It’s not like my parents were updating their “status” all the time with things like “J and A are……loving living in Edmonton” or “J and A …. Have just unpacked in Whitehorse, again.” No. But Chang found us wherever we lived and wherever we moved and therein lies the bond that forms between friends in Africa. I imagine that my children, one day, will wonder “Who is this Christine? And why after all these years is my mom doing that weird forehead greeting and what is Waragi?” The experience of volunteering overseas has been profound and while I’m happy to be home and trying to readjust, I can’t imagine losing touch with the friends I’ve made in the last year in Rwanda just as I’m sure Chang will always hold a place in my dad’s heart. And at least I have Facebook….

So…I’m back home. I’m sitting in the comfort of my living room after having had a good swim at the local pool. My feet are almost clean, as are my clothes. Although, my shoes are still covered in red Rwandan dirt and, wouldn’t you know it, the internet has stopped working. At least a few reminders of life in Kibungo.

How do I sum up a year of working and living in Rwanda? How do I answer the ubiquitous question: “What was your favourite part?” or worse: “What was it like?” I feel, after having learned that this blog is being read by future volunteers, a sense of duty to wrap this blog up with more detail than a facebook status. I’ll break it up into categories, I’ll throw up some last pictures and then, after our party on Thursday, sign off for good.

Life as a Volunteer: The Work

My role was a Basic Education Methodology Trainer. Basic, because I was responsible for the teachers of nine years basic education which is a policy brought forward by the Rwandan government to provide accessible education for all children for the first nine years. Education because we’re talking about schools and Methodology because, well, there are good methods and there are not-so-good methods. I worked with roughly 65 schools and provided workshops, one-on-one classroom support and guidance with the teachers therein. I travelled around on a motorbike almost daily and occasionally worked out of the office in the District of Ngoma.

VSO’s slogan is “Sharing Skills, Changing Lives”. I know I shared skills but not so sure about the ‘changing lives’ part. Time will tell, I suppose, but what I do know is that I worked with the teachers to see what they wanted and what would work in Rwandan classrooms. It’s simple, really. The concept of education is, and should be a universal one. That is – what do we want the students to learn and how do we help them learn it? Content aside, this is a culturally appropriate approach to education and one that can be sustainable. So did I accomplish what I came to accomplish?

A past volunteer once told me that it’s all about building small hills. I was only there for a year and am under no illusions that what I did built a mountain had a profound impact on the quality of education in Rwanda. But I do know that I contributed in a small way. I’m not entirely sure that the work I did was sustainable and while that is meant to be the goal, there are a number of barriers preventing this from happening. But, as in teaching, we may never know the impact of our actions but we can hope.

Working in a developing country was sometimes a lot like beating your head against a brick wall….that is, until I changed my perspective. I heard a quote recently that said something about when you are seeking change, don’t look for new landscapes but look with new eyes. And working in development requires us to take all of our notions and conceptions about work and success and change them. Not throw the baby out with the bath water, but adjust how we approach work. I had to ask myself “What works here?” and “What doesn’t?” There is sometimes a sense in the west that work in development is backward and unproductive. Not true. Let’s be honest, what would the big folks in the office towers of Calgary do if the power went out for the day? How would we function here?

And the big question of “development”? I went to Rwanda to help improve education, which I see as a basic human right and one which, if provided equally, will serve to benefit everyone around the globe. But the problem is, the west has a vested interest in an unequal balance of power especially economically. And if education is they way forward and the way to improve a country’s economy, which in my view it is, than education in developing countries will never truly be a priority. As much as we pay lip service and as much little good we can provide, true and substantive change is a long way away. Paulo Freire has often said that there is no neutral education. It would serve us well to keep this in mind as we continue to strive to improve the quality of it around the world. It’s not to say we shouldn’t try, but our on experiences and our context can obstacle to equality. Is this view cynical and a little controversial to NGOs workers? Sure but I never arrived in Rwanda to climb the NGO ladder with this experience as a resume builder. I came to Rwanda because I believe in education and I want all children to have access to quality education. I’m a teacher. We all want this and VSO gave me the opportunity to contribute in my own, small way but was saddened by a response I heard recently to the question “Why are you working here?” In the answer lies one of the biggest barriers, in my view, to positive change. It was “Because I’m somebody here. I was nobody back home.” There are so many people who are working in development for all the right reasons but once in a while you find someone who as come to build their CV and to “be somebody” and, well…..what a shame.

Luckily, for Rwanda, it’s country that will continue to thrive and work toward a successful future and will probably continue to do so even when NGOs drive their white SUVs out of town. It’s a beautiful, little place with rolling hills, mist, green trees and fantastic views that has captured my heart not only because of the great people but also for the spirit that it possesses as a nation. It has recovered from a horrific genocide and while its methods are up for debate, no one can deny that it’s country with purpose and vision. And VSO will be there beside them. Many other ‘volunteer’ organizations require that you pay to volunteer (thereby ensuring that only the wealthy can help the poor) and have no interest in seeking out trained professionals. VSO, on the other hand, recruits trained professionals in most cases and through a rigorous selection process attempts to select the best. It is through this mandate that Rwanda can get, and justly deserves, the most well trained and experienced volunteers out there and if each volunteer comes, considers it’s role in a critical context – as Freire would have us do – then all hose little hills will surely amount to something.

Life as a Volunteer: The Other Stuff

Working in a developing country is what makes an experience different from being a tourist and so, too, does being part of a community. If I did have to answer “What was the best part?”, I would have to say it was that. I’m not a big traveler. I do it. I like travelling because I love to see other parts of the world but I much prefer to be integrated into a community than on its periphery for a night or two before I have to pack up my bag and move on. Kibungo was a wonderful town full of smiling faces who were just as happy to talk to you on your way to work as they were to help you fix your kerosene stove. It was intimidating to go to the market for the first time when I didn’t know the difference in Kinyarwanda between 50 and 500 but with patience and time, this become something I learned to enjoy. Suzanne became one of my closest friends. We both came to depend on each other for support, in different ways, and now I will never forget the sight of her crying into her scarf after she dropped me off and said good bye in Kigali. I wasn’t expecting to get that close to someone who I was there to ‘help.’ In reality, she taught me more than I could have ever help to teach.

Living as a volunteer is not for the faint of heart and as my parents can attest, I’m the world’s greatest complainer. So if I can do it…… Of course, I’ve come to realize that I will only complain when I have someone to complain to. When things were hard or when something went wrong, as it often did, I was on my own and had to manage – sans whining! I was faced with bed bugs, and mice. No power or no water. A minor break in and little flood. Gigantic cockroaches and small fleas. Powered milk and dry bread. Exploding eggs and a broken stove. Nairobi fly and mosquitoes. Dirt and rain. Mud and dust. Missing mail or a dead phone. Dead geckos and noisy bats. Police check points and no licenses. Helmets locked in offices and missing head teachers. Late meetings and cancelled appointments. Crammed busses and steep hills. Pit latrines and cold showers.

Oh…wait a minute? Is this complaining? Nah! In truth….life as a volunteer is made up of a thousand little challenges that are incessant reminders that life is easier back home. But life back home also doesn’t always provide us with so many opportunities to learn and while there were definitely times when I wanted to give up, I’m glad I didn’t. The challenges became opportunities as soon as I decided to change my perspective and really, what’s a dead gecko if not a chance to learn something new?

And there are the “Changs” of your experience. The friends that I met that I will hold onto because they were the ones who will always understand. They are the ones that get it when I talk about Nido or Sotra and they are the ones who I leaned on when I needed it. Somehow your situation of cockroaches or fleas is never that bad when your friend calls you tell you about the bat in her shower or the mouse in her bread. And a Primus and the millionth goat brochette tastes so much better sharing it with friends and laughing at the trouble that had befallen us that week or sharing our struggles with the challenges we faced. You have met my friends this year through the blog and truly, they were the ones holding the towel away from me when I wanted to throw it in.

Blog it or Forget It

Ah the great blog debate. When I first arrived in Rwanda we were given the list of “do’s” and “don’ts” while writing a blog. In fact, fellow volunteer was spoken to because someone had read his blog and promptly contacted the powers that be to complain that it was biased. Um…here’s a suggestion….if you don’t want a biased opinion, don’t read a blog. Or a book. Or a newspaper. Or the IMF and World Bank accounts. Or statistics. Or anything…at all. The reality is, we’re human, we’ve opinions and we’re fallible. But luckily, we also all have the ability to detect bias and make our own judgments about reality. Oh, yeah, and choice. We’re all blessed with the ability to choose to read a blog, or not. My blog is biased. My blog is my account of my experience and it’s coming from my context and my reality. Not your’s. Having said that, I also have opinions (no kidding) about how a VSO volunteer might want to go about writing a blog about their VSO experience.

1. The reality is, VSO is supporting your experience both in cash and kind, so you ARE representing that organization and what you say WILL impact them. Keep that in mind. People who read your blog will know this and also keep it in mind. Yes, this is not VSO material and I do have a disclaimer but all the disclaimers in the world will not stop someone associating what I say, with the organizing that gave me the opportunity to say it.

2. Blogs are forever. I can stop writing tomorrow but what I said yesterday will still be there. So remember that. I write in Word first and read and re-read my entry before posting it. I usually don’t bother worrying about spelling and grammar that much (can you tell?) as much as I worry about content. I avoid sensitive topics – but send those in emails instead. And if I’ve had a particularly crappy day, I don’t write about it here. What’s the point? I have a crappy day, I write about it. My family reads it, they think things are crappy here. Meanwhile, I’ve moved on, things are great and the blog still talk about the crappy day. Crappy days end. (Remember, learning opportunity and all that?)

3. Blogs are public. Unless your blog is secured everyone and anyone can read your blog. Not to say they will. But they can. Just because you write it in the privacy in your own home, doesn’t mean it stays there.

But my other suggestion about blogging your volunteer experience is – do it! As much as this was a non-facebook way of keeping my friends and family posted, it is a record for me. This is something that I hope to look at in a few years and maybe even show my kids. I understand why we were forced to watch my dad’s 56 slides of his time in Africa. I get it. This is like a journal for me but with pictures and spell check and…without the crappy days.

What’s Next?

Well, I don’t know. I’ve been asked if I would do something like this again. Maybe. But likely not. While this was an experience that I feel lucky to have been able to do, I think I’ll teach for now. After all, I love teaching and I always have. I am trying to get a job and thinking about doing my Master’s in Education in a few years. I’ve missed the classroom this year and all the learning opportunities that come with teaching junior high school. So, I think I’ll just stay home for a while. Of course, those who know me have already heard my “Nah…I think I’ll just stick around” and quickly laughed and said “Well, you say that now.” I’ve wandering feet. I always have. I’ve just gone to see “Eat, Pray, Love” and of course, am already considering where my suitcase will take me next. This is a big world but for now my passport needs a rest and the mountains in Canada need exploring too. My suitcase is empty and packed away in an upstairs closet. I’m considering changing the name on my luggage tag from Kamiliza back to Anna. But maybe not just yet.