Kamaliza's Suitcase

Thank you and Goodbye!

2010-08-30T09:16:00.000-07:00

It's time we said goodbye. Everyone is now back to work here and soon the leaves will change colour and I'll have to admit to myself that I no longer live on top a ridge in the southeast corner of Rwanda. A beautiful country that DOES NOT see single digit temperatures in August, let alone ever. I am getting into the swing of things complete with a trip to the mall and a medium sized poutine (both were bad ideas!) We threw a little party where people were forced into a slideshow and banana liqueur. But these novelties will wear off as quickly as the snow begins to fly and normal life will ensue. Soon it will be fall, then winter, then spring and before I known it, Rwanda will be just a distant memory. So, while I prepare myself for new challenges and new opportunities, I am reminded, again, of a quote I read by Mark Twain and put on the blog last April. Not sure what a bowline is and I'm pretty sure "harbour" has a "u" but whatever. That guy was a genius.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

So, with that, I say good bye and thanks for reading. Good luck to the volunteers who are about to embark on your placements. You won't regret it.

Muracoze cyane na murabaho!

Have I ever told you about Chang?

2010-08-25T06:00:00.001-07:00

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.

From Kigali with Love

2010-08-17T09:56:00.000-07:00

And so.....here is ends. (So dramatic, I know) I am at the Kigali International Airport and we're about to board the flight to Brussels. Hard to believe that the adventure that began over a year ago with an email to CUSO-VSO is ending here. I guess it's not really ending....after all there are still emails coming in from potential volunteers, there's the Returning Volunteers weekend, there are the countless friends I've met and skills I've learned and there is the rest of my teaching career to bore students with stories of "Well, when I was in Rwanda...." But I am leaving Rwanda and it's with sadness that I do so. I was nervous and scared when I made the decision to come but I have come to love this land of rolling hills, banana trees and smiling faces. This is my last post from the Land of a Thousand Hills. When next we meet, I'll be writing from the comfort of my living room drinking a cup of Rwandan coffee and contemplating the last 12 months. See you soon, Canada!

Saying goodbye in Kibungo

2010-08-15T08:36:00.000-07:00

And so the farewells begin….

Aimey and I arrived back in Kibungo last Wednesday and isn’t it funny how a place that was once so foreign, so new and so scary, can feel at home so quickly. Even Aimey felt that as we were admiring the new Banque Populaire sign, or the Tigo building painted purple or…holy smack!...is that a brand new petrol station that looks like it belongs in Canada? But Kibungo has been my home for the last year and I love this little town.

We arrived and noticed that every tree along the road in Ngoma District had been painted white and, as we later found out, this was to honour President Kagame when he came for a visit last week. As you know there was a General Election last week and Mr. Kagame secured 93% of the vote. (The election, by the way, gave us mzungus a constant source of amusement given that in Rwanda the sound “l” and “r” are often interchangeable and so the “big election” of 2010 usually left us roaring with laughter…..) Of course, because this blog continues to be non-partisan, I won’t comment on the election itself and suggest you go BBC, the Globe and Mail, or the like for more in-depth analysis of Kagames successful bid at the presidency. Patrick was at the bus park when we arrived and greeted us with a huge smile, as always. When we arrived at my house were greeted by one of the best parts about living here – no electricity. Argh! But we went to the market and a few hours later it came back on. (Since then the power has been dodgy and the water has been on and off – mostly off – every day. Oh the joys!)

Friday I turned around and had an exit interview with VSO and luck would have it, met Jeremy who was returning from the UK and had a taxi ready to take us back to the big K. It was good to see him, all refreshed and ready for another few months. Of course, a welcome to Kibungo would not have been complete without Beer and Brochette at Moderne that night and Jason, who returned from his holidays also, joined us too. So, there we were. The Eastern Peeps enjoying the last meal at one of my favourite watering holes.

Saturday I spent packing and organizing. What to bring? What to give? What to leave for the new volunteers who will occupy the house in September. I’ve taken art off my walls, and the wall of family and friend pictures is also down. Slowly, the house that has felt like home, is becoming just another house. I’m seeing it, again, through the eyes that I did when I arrived. As someone who moved around A LOT as a kid, it’s a family feeling. One that bring trepidation and excitement. Saturday night I had a bit of a farewell at, you guessed it, St. Joseph’s. The standbys were there: Jeremy and Jason, as well as Suzanne (the very first Kibungoan I met and the person who has helped me survive living here), Anna and Rebecca (two other mzungus who live down the road), Fabien (my big boss), Geoffry (an old friend of Epi and Tina’s who is maybe the nicest and least pushy 24 year old in this town), some guy who came with Fabien but I don’t know his name, Rehma (who I met through Christine) and, of course Consollee (who came with a gift of banana leave flip flops which I’d been thinking about buying myself since arriving). We had drinks of Fanta and beer, bananas, potatoes, chips and brochette and sat around dicephering Kinyarwanda (Why do “old” and “crazy” sound so similar?) and walked home dropping people off at their homes along the way. I may say that I could live the rest of my life without seeing another banana or brochette but in truth, I’ll miss those nights and these people.

So, now I pack up and we head to Kigali tomorrow. As things hit me, I’m sure I’ll write a last entry sort of think about what it’s like to be VSO volunteer, what Rwanda has been like as a home and how I’ve felt about the whole process. As Aimey said, on our last evening walk through Kibungo, I spent so long thinking about coming and there was such a build up about coming to Africa. And now it’s over. For now, at least. And I will write a debrief about everything but until then, I think I’ll just enjoy another cup of Rwandan coffee as I listen to the sounds of a Sunday morning in Kibungo.

Consolee and I

Jeremy explaining his theory of excellent female head teachers in presence of two of the best: Suzanne and Mediatrice

At St. Joseph's

The two Kibungo Anna's. We didn't get to spend a lot of time together but Anna was always up for a drink or a game of Jenga!

The gang's all here: from Jason (muzungu in the middle) clockwise: Jason, Rehma, some guy, Fabien Geoffry, me, Suzanne, Jeremy and Consolee. Patrick, Jean Paul and Elie weren't able to make it.

Team Kibungo!

Banana sandals

This afternoon we went for a last visit to see Patrick and his family and what-do-ya-know...Patrick's name isn't even Patrick! What the??? I somehow got from him that that's the name of his area and the name he uses for work. His name is Dominique! Seriously! Patrick doesn't even show up on his ID card. But he's Patrick to me and always will be. We enjoyed a, you guessed it, Fanta (okay, I had water but you know how it is) and he proudly showed us his television, DVD player and newly installed electricity that he says he was able to buy because of the work he did with me. So, am never one to give money to people - EVER - but me being here has helped him. In honesty, though, he earned it..... muddy roads, rain storms, police, pot holes, locked motorcycle helmets and goats. He definitely earned it.

Even Patrick got into the election spirit

One last good bye.

Photos: Coming back to Kibungo

2010-08-14T02:44:00.000-07:00

Coming back to Kibungo after travelling felt a bit like home. Here are a few highlights....

So, after having returned from dusty, dirty busses in East Africa and having said my farewell to Julie, we realized that we were short on clean clothes. So, I thought I'd give my hand at doing something I haven't had to do since arriving here (if you don't count the time I had bed bugs....). I washed my clothes, Rwandan Style! I must say, I think I did a good job by have a new appreciation for Julie and my washing machine at home!

Painted trees that welcomed Paul Kagame a few days earlier

Across the street and just before the "rond point" (round-about) that leads to Kibungo town

The new gas station officially opened while we were away

Arriving home to no electricity but, like it always does, it came back on just in time for the sun to go down!

East Africa and coming home to Rwanda

2010-08-13T06:48:00.001-07:00

As Anna and Aimey’s African Adventure draws to a close, and Anna’s Suitcase begins to pack up all her worldly treasures, I thought I give a summary of the last few days bumping along the roads of East Africa. We left off and I was lamenting the loss of Aimey’s camera and about 300 great pictures. We left Mombasa at night, catching the legendary Nairobi-Mombasa train. We secured our berth and made our way to the dining car for dinner. The food was great, the cockroach joining us, not so much. Met a nice Irish guy and an arrogant Canadian-born, Kenyan-raised, British-educated man who was travelling to Nairobi to meet with a lawyer to take care of business. Sketchy. We were lulled to sleep by the clickity-clack of the rail cars as they travelled through Kenya and I was securely tucked into the upper bunk with what looks like a seatbelt/crib for my safety.

We arrived in Nairobi (which is nicknamed Nairobbery) without being mugged and so thought that, given the law of averages, we would have nothing stolen. We were right! Nairobi, though our visit was short, was a pleasant treat of capitalism and bustle. We spent the afternoon taking local (and very slow) busses out to the suburb of Karen to visit the Kazuri Jewelry factory. I first fell inlove with Kazuri in the Nairobi airport and have been dreaming about it ever since. I suppose I could have just bought something in an overpriced shop in the city, but there’s something about going out to where the sweat is poured into these little, beautiful clay beads. Kazuri was founded in the seventies by a British woman as a company to employ – and give health care – to single mothers. There are over 300 employees now and they make the most beautiful jewelry. We had a lovely tour and then spent too much time humming and haaaing over what to buy, and for whom, in their shop. In the end, I came away with a few beautiful pieces that you will all envy when I get home! That night we met Alan, a former VSO volunteer and fellow blogger, as well as a random girl that Aimey met in a coffee shop and we headed out to Haandi for Indian food. My mouth still waters when I think of the meal.

So from Nairobi to Kampala we splurged an extra $10 to take the “royal class” coach for a short 13 hour (or so) journey. Plush seats and even a breakfast of eggs and samosas! Of course, we were not even out of the city when we were stopped by a horrific traffic accident that had us waiting for over an hour just to pass a semi-trailer and the wreckage of what one could assume was once a taxi. Hours and hours later – after passing countless tea plantations – we crossed the Ugandan border and were shortly thereafter dropped off at an intersection leading to Jinga, the place from which we were going to raft down the Nile River. We knew that the taxi ride to the hotel would be about 15,000 from Jinja but had no idea how to actually get to the town of Jinja itself. Hmm…. Thankfully a handful of competitive boda-boda (motorcycle) drivers approached us and, unlike Rwanda, had no helmets. Given that it was night, given that it was the highway, given that we had a big packs, we opted to not take the risk and tried – unsuccessfully – to get a taxi. Thankfully, one of the boda-boda drivers, who did not take our lack of patronage personally, offered to call us one but that taxi seemed to be taking forever. Eventually, another car pulled up and Aimey asked if he was a taxi and would he take us into town. He was there to pick up a friend but offered us a lift while he was waiting. As it turned out, he wasn’t a taxi driver but just a random, and Aimey and I found ourselves hitchhiking by accident once again. Michael, who is also a teacher, offered to find us a proper taxi when we got to Jinja and even negotiated a good rate for us. Of course, to negotiate this rate he told us to stay in the car so the driver didn’t see that it was two mzungus – a sure way to have to pay more! Eventually we made it out to the Backpackers Campsite, were given a safari tent full of spiders to sleep in (no nets) and enjoy a beer, a meal and a card game. We were also treated to a video of that day’s rafting trip, and if I wasn’t nervous before about rafting down a Class 5 river, I was now! Praying that our boat wouldn’t flip the next day, and praying that the spiders were also sleeping and not wanting to crawl all over my face in the middle of the night, I drifted off to sleep with the sound of the Nile River just below.

So…rafting the Nile? Imagine the MindBender Rollercoaster at West Ed. Now imagine a washing machine. Now imagine that you are on the rollercoaster INSIDE a FREAKING washing machine. That’s sort of what it feels like to be on the Nile. But with Jamie our guide – who ‘btw’ was AWESOME – we made it through most rapids in one piece. Of course, I felt like a bit of an All Star after our first rapid when all of our gang were tossed outside of the boat except me and Jamie. “Bring it on Nile,” I said all tough-like.

Until the second rapid.

That’s when our boat hit a wave and flipped ass over tea kettle, landing on some of us, including Jamie. However…we all made it back in the boat and managed to get through the rest of the rapids relatively unscathed. It was the most fun that I’ve had being tossed around in raging white water. Thanks Jamie!

After Jinja we chilled and shopped for souvenirs in Kampala. Crazy, hectic, congested Kampala. Security was everywhere and we were searched going into our hotel, a restaurant and the post office. Since the bombings, I guess they aren’t taking chances. Fair enough. Things were good and fun and after getting our bus ticket to Kigali, hopped on a boda-boda which are fun and slow and crowed (three on a bike…really?). Of course, pulling up to our hotel the truck that was backing up didn’t see us….or in reality, did see us but refused to stop. Aimey bailed off the back of the bike before getting hit and the driver and I banged furiously on the door of the truck to get his attention – something I’ve been dying to do since arriving! For our last meal we managed to hit up a great little restaurant for dinner AND get a boda-boda driver that spoke Kinyarwanda! I felt at home!!!

Finally….after three great weeks and so many wonderful experiences, we were on a bus bound for Kigali. Crossing the border did feel like home and it was refreshing to drive on the right, hear Kinyarwanda, see no garbage and no houses painted advertising corporations. Of course, the tell tale signs we were coming to Rwanda were listening to Kenny Rogers on the bus and having our packs searched at the border for plastic bags. We arrived at the bus park and were thrilled when, after we declined a taxi, the driver actually listened and walked away!! No hassle in Rwanda. I love it here. I felt at home. Now it’s time to pack up and enjoy a last Rwandan inzoga – which, incidentally, means “beer” in Kinyarwanda but “dead animal” in Swahili. Go figure.

Rafting the Nile and Kampala

2010-08-13T06:25:00.000-07:00

Rafting with Nile River Explorers was fantastic. So much fun and, thankfully, no crocodiles.

Our campsite

Okay. No problem. Face your challenges head on.

Being agitated like a pair of jeans in a washing machine. Notice Jamie with blue helmet? Aimey is just to her right about to hit the water.

Oh crap. Where did Aimey go?

Two survivors! Whoo hoo!

Jamie and I on a rescue mission. Aimey was on the other side just coming up from under the raft.

So, things were all well and good and the team recovered nicely until rapid number two and....well....you get the picture:

Believe it or not, this was taken after being tossed around the Nile, during a lunch break on the river. (Notice dude in the middle: was hungover and spent the trip forgetting to paddle insync or hitting Aimey with his paddle.)

Enjoying a beer on the Nile

And over in Kampala...we stayed at a great hotel called Aponye.

This was the street our hotel was on. Amazing that a boda-boda could fit through, let alone a car.

Photos: Mombasa to Nairobi

2010-08-13T06:16:00.000-07:00

A few pictures from Mombasa and the journey to Nairobi

Mombasa wall

Potato chips fresh from the kettle

Platform at Mombasa train station

Waiting for the train and being entertained by a busker

Breakfast in the dining car

And in Nairobi...

Kazuri's mission statement

Moulds for coffee cups

Before they are fired

What? We can buy Kazuri in Canada?? Where?!?! Tell me more!

The end result

So much choice. So little time.

Oh, but I chose.

What's a gazillion minus about 322?

2010-08-04T03:02:00.000-07:00

So I was all "we have so many pictures" in my last entry. I think I said that I had about a gazillion or so. That'll learn me..... Oh....and why is Snoopy drowning his sorrows in a glass CabSav?

We arrived in Mombasa happy that we'd outwitted the scam artists in Arusha (No, we will not pay an extra 10,000 for our bags on the bus...no, it's not the law....no, nor will give out 1,000 for tea....). We were thankful when Aimey left her purse at the restaurant it was still there and the taxi drivers in Mombasa were charging fair prices. We were thrilled when some women on the street treated us to masala mangos. We were extra thankful when - unknown to us - Aimey's camera dropped out of her pocket, onto the floor of the bus, picked up by some men who promptly got off the bus but who were noticed by some women on the bus, shouted at (in Swahili so we didn't know what was happening) and then our camera was brought back to us. Aimey swiftly put the camera away in my pack and five minutes later we were getting out at our stop we were thankful for some men to help us out of the matatu (think minivan with 18 people crammed in) with our bags. I'm so used to trusting helpful people here (can't spend my time here suspicious of everyone) that when they were helping, I thought they were just helping.

And then we realized later that night that the camera was gone. Argh.....

Of course we racked our brains but realized that they got about 300 photos and a few videos of the A-Team Travel adventure pilot show that we're shooting..... The good safari photos and us making the top of Kili on on my camera but Aimey's log of Snoopy in Africa is gone. So, SnoopDog had a big glass of red wine while we were sitting on the beach in Tiwi, Kenya over the last few days and he's feeling much better about the whole thing. Sadly, I'm still a bit annoyed that 11months here and I have lost so much as a pound, let alone a camera. It's tainted my view a bit. But just a bit. For every scammer or theif there are 100 honest and caring people that just want to help. I just need to remind myself of that every now and then.

So...to the beach!!! We spent one night in Diani before making our way to a piece of paradise on the Indian Ocean. Margaret and Joseph run the Twiga lodge and after a bumpy taxi ride down the dirt road to get there (the road is known for muggings and we weren't chancing it) we arrived to white sands and palm trees! We're back in Mombasa a little burnt and a little hungover (why do screw top wine bottles have to be so easy to open?) but relaxed and not about to let a missing camera get in the way of a great trip. But seriously, buddy, what are you going to do with a bunch of pictures of Snoopy at Kilimanjaro, Snoopy with the hipps, Snoopy drinking a Primus? Honestly.....

Still in Mombasa at Fort Jesus.

Pick up soccer game in front.

Aimey tries coconut juice for the first time

Now my turn...the girls here recommended the masala mango and for a mango-hater like me (what is up with the aftertaste?), these were pretty good. Even better because when I went to pay the women had already paid for me - what a treat!

After a dismal night at Diani Classic Guest house (NOT recommended) we caught a bus to Tiwi where Margaret was awaiting our arrival. We'd book the budget double room (no sea view, no breakfast, no hot water and, by the looks of it, no new coat of paint since the early 60s) and quickly changed to the superiour room for a wad more cash but look at the view! Well worth it!

Seriously...this was a piece of paradise and only a handful of tourists to speak of.

After getting over his hang over and depression, Snoopy went for a dip in the ocean.

Twiga Lodge has a bar and restaurant but we decided to bring our own wine. Food was good, atmostphere, great. Would recommend to anyone.

Safari Inzuri!

2010-07-31T03:03:00.000-07:00

Still waters. Sans hippos.

So I took nothing short of like a bazillion picture on our safari. (Who knew that I could actually almost fill 8GB in two short weeks. But I did and you all will be spared the slide show and get the shortened "here are a few good ones" blog update. If, however, you're one of the suckers that invites us over to look at our adventure pictures when we return, well....be warned. (And, oh, I've been in Rwanda for a year and have like a gazillion pictures from there too...- and yes, in case you're wondering, a gazillion IS bigger than a bazillion. But I digress)

Safari was good and for me, not exactly being an animal lover (AWESOME about the lion eating the buffalo...zebra...giraffe would have been just as good), I did enjoy the four days chasing lions and leopards, hippos and girraffes. And did you know that a cheetah is a lazy, lazy cat? Or that an ostrich can run at 70 km/hr? I didn't but thanks to George (aka Georgie), I do now.

Day 1: Lake Manyara and camping in a village on the side of the road. Not too impressed with a stop to tour the village and look at a banana planation and then be asked for 1500 shillings as a tip, though. I politely declined saying that we should have been told about the tip BEFORE our little tour and also, if I wanted to look at mud huts and banana planations, I could for free on the back of a motorbike in Rwanda, thank you very much. But you know those tours.... Animals in the park were great but those hippos really just lay around, don't they?

Day 2 and 3: Serengeti. Camping on the Serengeti and yes, those ARE hyenas laughing just behind our tents but thankfully the cooks made us beef and not chicken (hyena's favourite, apparently). Playing games by the fire, under the starts and full moon, drinking a bottle of wine and listening to the animals in the distance...or not too distance as the hyenas were. Life is good. A bit dirty and dusty driving around looking for animals but good. Very good.

Day 4: Ngorogoro. We didn't see a rhino but Aimey was finally treated to hippos out of the water and we continued to be mesmerized by zebras, lions and wildebeast. Camping was a bit on a chilly side by nothing like almost 6000m of Kilimanjaro

Over all, a great experience and I would never having traded tenting it in the open air for a fancy safari lodge with hot water. Never in a million years. Only a few pictures here but remember....there are a bazillion ore where they came from. Or is it a gazillion?

We're now enjoying the heat and food in Mombasa before heading to Kenya's coast to soak up the sun and get clean in the Indian Ocean. I'm always amazed out different Rwanda feels to the rest of east Africa. The freedom of eating WHEREVER I WANT is great but the trade off, I suppose, is the ubiqitous garbage and plastic bags littering the ground. We bussed it here from Arusha (dirt roads are more comfortable on the back of a bike than in the heat of a lumbering bus through the middle of nowhere) and we'll leave in the comfort of the Kenyan Train line bound for Nairobi in a few days.

Lunch time on the Serengeti. Photos amazing. Smell, not so much!

5895 meters of FUN

2010-07-24T05:18:00.000-07:00

So…Mount Kilimanjaro? What ev’. No problem….

After a rescheduling flight by Rwandair (a free day at a hotel WITH a pool) we made it to Moshi. The bad news: 8 hours late. The good news: the same flight as Christine who was coming to hike the mountain on the same day as us, but with another company. So we all arrived, visas granted and made our way to the hotel. The next day we met with our GAP person only to find out that hike was not through GAP but through Zara tours (Read: if considering GAP, don’t. Just go directly through Zara because it’s cheaper) and met the gang we’d be hiking with. There was us, a Canadian from Vancouver – Mike, an Irishman – Kevin, and the Schrader family from Pennsylvania – dad and four brothers. The next day we were off….slowly, slowly….

To be honest, I started the first two days keeping track of what we saw, what our campsites were like, what the weather was like…then I stopped. We became tired, exhausted and focused on reaching the summit only. Aimey misplaced one camera battery, I thought I didn’t charge my spare and because of the cold weather we took few pictures to conserve the battery power so we’d have a working camera on summit day.

The hiking itself was beautiful. At times our group was alone with no one but our guide, the rocks and the wind. At times Christine would be just behind or just ahead so we’d meet up and encourage each other. Our group was FANTASTIC. Most of them had hiking experience and everyone took the hike seriously. It’s a big mountain, and we knew it. We were encouraging, realistic and happy to be doing this together. Four days later….and we were at the Rooftop of Africa!

Here’s the scoop: we began at 1200m. Four days of hiking later and we were at 4800m and ready to ascent. We arrived at this last base camp at 5pm, dinner at 6pm and to rest. We were woken at 11pm and began hiking the 7 hour hike to the summit at 12:15 am in the black – pitch black. The moon was nearly full and all you could see was the reflection of the glacier in the moon light and a string of headlamps walking, pole, pole up at the dark. At some point, maybe 2am, maybe 3am our water began to freeze, we began to layer more and I began to feel the first affects of altitude. We were so quiet hiking, slowly, slowly. Aimey and I were checking in on each other frequently with a “You doing okay?” My breathing was laboured, I was cold, tired and exhausted. My head lamp was focused on Aimey’s shoes and my eyes never lifted except to sneak the occasional peak at the summit. Eventually the moon disappeared and it was dark. Very dark. But after hiking for what seems like ever and what seemed like five minutes all at the same time….the sun began to rise I knew we were close. I’ll be honest when I say that I would not have made it up without Aimey. At one point I said, “I can’t.” My breathing was heave. There was no oxygen getting in. My legs were done. But she pulled me up and we continued to the ridge, a short 45minute walk to the summit. The sun continued to rise and we began to see people returning from the summit with big smiles, a spring in their step and saying “You’re almost there!”

Okay…now here’s where I get all emotional on you…. My breathing became most difficult when I thought about what this all meant. I am leaving Africa and what a way to say goodbye. So, we reached the summit and…there were tears. All of us in the group admitted this later. It was absolutely taxing on our bodies and our minds.

Of course…we still had to get back down. 6.5 hours up (Aimey’s certificate says she arrived at 6:44am….mine says 6:45am!!! Okay…I know she had to drag me there but come on!) and it was 4.5 hours back down…then an hour nap, lunch and another 4 hours until the next camp. Add it up folks….2 hours of sleep, hiking beginning at midnight, 15 hours of hiking.....8 very tired hikers. But worth it. So worth it.

So, from the rooftop of Africa I began to say my good bye to this great land. Tomorrow we head out on a safari and then to explore the rest of what East Africa has to offer. (Here are a few pictures…yes, I know…picture-fest of us but whatev’. If you hiked Africa’s highest mountain, you’d be proud too….)

Day 1: Starting out. Clean clothes, clean hair, big smiles.

Christine meet up with our group!

View from our second night. Mount Meru in the distance

We made it!!!!

The gang's all here...We started together and we finished together

Our guide who was a bit creepy McCreeperson but in the end helps us reach our goal.

Day 6... end of the trail. Dirty clothes, dirty hair, big smiles!

Our certificates...our guide thought it was funny to write that Aimey arrived a minute before me. I don't know that it was but I do know that she arrived first, dragging my sorry behind

July 12 to 15th

2010-07-14T23:11:00.000-07:00

Monday and Tuesday we spent with Sarah and Ben from VSO UK in the media unit. They were coming to see the work that we've been doing in Ngoma. So, because we were with a professional photographer, I left my camera at home so he could do all the work! It was a great two days. We enjoyed working with them because they were interested and enthusiastic to learn about Rwanda and the people here.

But first....the boys who have our life in their hands - our drivers. Mutoni is Jeremy's driver, Patrick is mine, and Jaffette has been driving Aimey around. Big smiles, big speed and big fun!

Monday we had another Resource building workshop at Rukira Primary School.

Of course, Aimey was put to work also

Bosco, Ben and Sarah interviewing the wonderful head teacher, Angelique.

Aimey, once again, was put to work as Ben's lighting assistant. On Tuesday at Zaza TTC (no pictures) we had plenty of time to wait around and Ben gave me some great advice about taking photos on my safari. I've been frustrated with my filter here and a few other things. So....I'm excited to get to out to the Serengeti and try out the new tips.

Ride back from Rukira

Wednesday we headed to Kabilizi A Primary school to say goodbye to the teachers and to play some volleyball with the kids.

Typical ball the children make in Rwanda

And then we had to play ball so Jeremy held my camera and got some great shots!

Okay...so volleyball has never been my forte but, hey, at least I'm having fun!

I could never do this....I guess it's Aimey's sport.

Felix hitting but a "little" P6 student blocking!

The boys keeping our bikes nice and cool for us.

Muzungus draw spectators wherever we go!

Ladislas is the head teacher and a man committed to his teachers, his school and his community.

Staff of Kabilizi A. I will really miss this school and head teacher. They are the one's who gave me the name Kamaliza. They are truly special people.

After a year of waiting.....the NEW and IMPROVED Kibungo Market is now open!! Whoo hoo! (I'm whoo-hooing the fact that the temporary market was 5 minutes from my house. The new market is now 45 minutes from my house and I've been lucky that the delayed meant that shopping was quick and easy for me -- as quick and easy as shopping in a market in a foreign country can ever be.....)

No more stands made of sticks. No more tarps to keep out sun and rain. No more mud!

And to celebrate, Fanta Feista came to town.

Patrick was the organizer and spent some time in Montreal so we thrilled to meat Canadians and show us the "snow that he had imported from Canada" just keep the Fantas cold!

So, now we're off to Tanzania for another adventure!

Weekend in Kierhe

2010-07-14T23:04:00.000-07:00

Saturday we headed to Kierhe to visit Christine who would hold a bar-b-que on Sunday. On the way we went to visit Nyarabuye Genocide Memorial. This time it was dry season so no flat tires or trees covering the road. After the memorial we enjoyed the ride back to Nyakarambi and took in the views.

To get to Christine's village from the road, we could walk...or we could take velos which go nearly has fast as motos but with no helmets. Okay...no they don't. But it makes us sound hard core.

Making supper while it's still light out.

The next day Msafari came on his motorbike with meat and we borrowed the kitchen from the bar behind Christine's house to cook the goat. Aimey was designated sous-chef. The food was amazing. Well done!

....and then the camera battery died so we have no pictures of us enjoying said food. Ah well. more time to enjoy the company!

July 9th in photos

2010-07-14T22:34:00.000-07:00

Me and Julie my clothes-washing, house-cleaning saviour!

On our way to visit Elie's new house we have a kibazo! (I swear Patrick is so tired of me whipping out my camera each time we have a problem.....)

Ah! Here's the problem...nail on the road

Aimey stayed behind to help take off the tire

Patrick's bike decked out in a new maple leaf!

We arrived at Elie's for a .... Fanta! and amandazi and I think if I don't turn into a Fanta, I will turn into an amandazi before I leave here.

Elie is getting married in August (he's already had part 1 of his wedding) and so he bought this house 4 years ago. It was a mud house when he arrived but he's been making improvements since then to prepare for his family. He's showing us the back and the new latrines.

Elie showing Aimey his banana trees

If I don't turn into a Fanta or an amandazi after living here, I'm sure I'll actually become Anna Banana.....

House and new kitchen

A photo from Elie and Pacifique's first part of their wedding

In the afternoon we watched Dominic and the boys practice for an upcoming match.

Keeping score requires no fancy Coca-Cola sponsored score board.

Library and School visits - July 8th

2010-07-14T22:05:00.000-07:00

Aimey's students raised money for the libraries here so we went shopping in Kigali!

And then she took her first moto ride out on dirt roads in the country....Hey! Wait up!

This is the best part of my job!

Aimey playing a game with the kids.

Finally we did take the kids to the library...two by two!

Counting

After the library, Aimey joined in on a game that is played by girls all over the region. It involves throwing a ball as hard as you can at other girls - a dodgeball of sorts.

This girl was the star of the game. What an arm! Maybe Rwanda's next shot put champion?

Team Bare

In Mutendeli village with the head teacher of GS Bare.

And then it was off to Muzingira Primary School which was near by. As always it is a treat to visit a school with such a committed head teacher who is willing to try to approaches to benefit the students. The staff work as a team, are happy and as a result you arrive at the school with the feeling that they've got it together.

Visual aids on the walls!!

Many children are encouraged to bring water to school. This is a common way to solve the problem of missing caps...stick half of a banana in the top.

Once again I was impressed with Muzingira! Solange had both P1 classrooms full of visual aids including this one which is a MUCH better version of one that I created because this is simple and faster to create.

After Fantas (of course!) and a few speeches, it was time to say good bye to the wonderful teachers at Muzingira including Perpetue, the head teacher, who is on my right.

And then we head home. (Don't recognize me because I'm not wearing my pink helmet? It's me...but gave Aimey my helmet because it fit her a bit better)

But first Patrick had to stop off at the butcher in a village near by.

Are we really stopped at a butcher in the middle of Africa? Yes, we are!

Gorillas and Geckos. Week one in Kibungo.

2010-07-08T08:11:00.000-07:00

Better late than never, right? So Aimey arrived and since then I’ve been playing tour guide and loving every moment of it. July 1^st and the plane was to arrive at 7pm but, in true fashion, was late. Never mind, Aimey hopped off the plane with a bag full of a goodies, my sleeping bag and a bottle of wine that was not covered in dust. We arrived in Kibungo the next day and there was no rest for her because we had arranged a “Welcome to Kibungo / Happy Canada Day” party at Moderne. Those potatoes are amazing!!!! I’d been talking about the potatoes forever but for the first time in the history of Kibungo, they had no potatoes. None? What? But you have fries? How is this possible? Truth is – ANYTHING is possible in Kibungo. We enjoyed the Canada Day swag courtesy of the Lemphers up in the Yukon, my old stomping ground. We also enjoyed Beer and Clam (a delicacy I’ve been talking up since arriving and finally was able to share with J and J because it was included among the many treats in Aimey’s bag). The next day we had time to see the Kibungo market and head to St. Joe’s to watch Germany destroy Argentina in the quarterfinals. I must say that Aimey has slid into life here easily including being put work as soon as she got here and having the shit scared out of her by Johnny Boy (my guard). Our mishaps are limited to the following:

Aimey: “I want to touch the baby gecko.”

Me: “I don’t think it’s a good idea”

Aimey: touches it anyway. It jumps on her sweater, startles us, we yelp, Aimey trips back, falls on bed, bed breaks. (At this exact moment while I update the blog, Aimey is happily nailing the bed back together with nails I had and a hammer borrowed from the moto garage next door)

Sunday we headed up through Kigali to Ruhengeri to trek for Gorillas which is a “must do” when you’re here and something I’ve been waiting for since I arrived. It was nothing short of amazing, made even better when a baby gorilla approached Aimey, looked in her eyes, reached out and touched her. I can’t speak for what Aimey experience but I was shaking with amazement that it’s a wonder I got any pictures at all. The gorillas were worth it but I have to express a bit of disappointment in the number of tourist who come to Rwanda and only experience this.

Fresh off the trek (we were a bit disappointed in that our hike was short and, while it was nice to see the gorillas quickly, we got in less of a trek than we wanted) we headed to Gisenyi to spend a night in paradise – Paradise Malahide, to be exact. A dinner of chicken and Primus around a fire near Lake Kivu was perfect. Things were going so well until I broke the flip flops I bought at the market when I first arrived in Rwanda. I guess it’s a sign that my time is coming to a close here. The next morning we enjoyed a wonderful breakfast on the lake as we watch the fishing boats come in from the night out. We hitched a ride with some engineers working on a pilot methane project on Lake Kivu. Of course, hitch-hiked implies we intended to catch a lift with someone but it was actually me mistaking a work van for local transport and simply telling him where we were going. So the free lift into town with some lovely guys who talked to us all about trapped methane in Lake Kivu and Rwanda’s plans to continue its extraction to add to the national grid.

We arrived back to Kibungo and haven’t rested since…but that’s another blog entry full of motorcycle rides through the dirt, delivering books to the libraries, score keeping for a volleyball game using only rocks and the ground, going to a butcher in the middle of freakin’ nowhere so Patrick could buy meat, finding NEW flip flops at the market, jiggers (okay, I’ll leave that one out) and a few other adventures that haven’t happened yet but I’m sure will before I get around to updating the photos once again.

2010-07-08T07:38:00.000-07:00

Week one in Rwanda.......

Day 1 in Rwanda: bus is an hour late but we're still smiling. (Okay...Aimey still smiling, Anna frustrated and annoyed.)

Welcome to Kibungo - now get to work!

Canada Day celebrations (a day late).

Christine and Rehma

Who brought this guy?

Jean-Paul and Aimey

The gangs all here.

Quinessential Canadian/Rwandan: toothpicks with the Canadian flag

So this is a goat brochette?

East African gin...a bit much?

But mix it with Clamato and a bit of pili and it's like a Rwandan Ceasar

And if you don't like gin you can mix Rwandan beer with Clam. Truly a Canadian treat imported and arrived on the plane the day before.

Now, use those toothpicks to get the goat out of our teeth

K-I-T-S-C-H (and, yes, my shirt does have moose partying and it does say "Canadian Wildlife"! Thanks to the Lemphers in the Yukon for all the great Canadian swag!)

Kibungo market and me saying "Okay. Quickly or we'll draw a crowd."

One week in Kibungo and Snoopy already has a beer belly

The sweet smell of success - Germany v. Argentina.

Sunset on the way home and...oh yeah....Go Germany! (Result of Germany v. Spain match notwithstanding)

Okay...now time to hop on the bus and go find us some gorillas.

Gorilla Trekking

2010-07-08T07:37:00.000-07:00

Sunrise over the Virunga Volcanoes in Rwanda

7 metres. S-E-V-E-N. We're gonna be 7 metres away from a mountain gorilla!

And in case you were wondering. THIS is 7 metres.

We're going on a gorilla hunt....we're gonna catch a big one!

Just hanging out, you know, eating.

Just hanging out, you know, thinking.

Holy Smack! It's a silver back!

Whachya lookin' at?

Hey! Dian Fossey! Nice to see you! Never mind that "7 metre" rule. We never pay attention to your human rules anyway.....

Pretty sure this isn't 7 metres either

After our hike

And, yes, there are certificates

Who thought wrapping 8 chapatis together was a good idea?

Paradise Malahide

Fishing boats

I paid how many francs for these flip flops at the Kibungo market 10 months ago and THIS is what happens!!! :(

Paradise breakfast nook

Breakfast on the lake

Happy Birthday, Molly Joy!

2010-07-06T08:54:00.000-07:00

That's so Rwanda Part 4

2010-06-29T09:44:00.000-07:00

Only in Rwanda....

…can you tell the type of motorbike in the pitch dark, when it’s coming from behind, just by listening to the engine

…do you find yourself saying things “I’d much prefer flea bites” at dinner parties. (As opposed to all the other bites you could get here)

…can you see the following being carried on the heads of people: buckets, bunches of bananas, backpacks, baskets, hoes, bags of shoes, bags of anything – really, queen sized mattresses, oil barrels and refrigerators. (I kid you not. A freakin’ REFRIGERATOR!)

…should you NEVER tell your moto to race another motorcycle. They will. And those things can FLY!

…does the electricity go out in the entire Eastern Province just after kick off in the England vs. Germany game and so you spend the first half huddled around a radio listening to the score and receiving text messages from home with updates. (My English colleagues are still talking about Lampard’s “goal” and I’m just happy that the power didn’t come back on until the second half so they didn’t have to see it)

…do you know what a “kibazo” is.

…does your moto driver run out of petrol 200m from your house and as you slow to a stop he says “No problem”, motions you off the bike, tips said bike upside down, puts it right, and Voila! Problem solved.

…does your moto driver see police ahead, and instead of driving between them on the road, goes on to the shoulder to go around – 10 FEET from the police – and continue on his merry way without being stopped. And only then does he say “Anna. Problem of police is speed. Fine is 50,000 francs.” And only then do you know that the truth is your driver does not have a problem of speed (because he is practically out of petrol – see above) but that his problem is that he does not have a license.

…do you feel like a rock star everywhere you go. Unless, of course, you actually are a rock star. In that case, you’d probably feel like a rock star wherever you went EXCEPT Rwanda. Unless you were Celine Dion, Kenny Rogers, Shania Twain or Medy. Then you’d feel like a rock star here too.

…do you hide in your mosquito net when you hear strange sounds at night because, let’s face it, you live alone in the middle of Africa and NOTHING is getting me out of this mosquito net at night

…do have one pot to both boil water for showers and cook your sweet potato and lentil stew. So your showers smell slightly of onions and garlic but it seriously does not matter after a 40 minute motorcycle ride through dust.

Photos: STILL coming

2010-06-27T11:12:00.000-07:00

I went into my living room with every intention of adding photos to this little blog when I heard a faint buzzing sound by the window. I saw a wasp. And another. And another. And another. The noise was getting louder as I recalled the first time I met Tina. This was three days before I moved to Kibungo and she had woken up in the morning to find the living room full of bees. She killed them all and we were still finding bodies a week later. So, I rushed to grab my trusty can of Bop, when I realized that I've been bug free for a few months and my can was empty. So, I walked to the Round-Point store to get another can, came back, took my bug killing stance (rubber gloves and with my head band turned into a mask so I'm not breathing in nerve killing insecticide myself). Bees are gone. Floor is littered with their bodies. Pictures are still not posted. Sigh.

Update: Photos are up....there are a lot. They go back two weeks and are in reverse order. They follow the next entry or you can see them on the right under Archives. Thanks to Christine, JC, Jeremy and Jason for most of the pictures. Enjoy!

Two Weddings and a Funeral (Alternate Title: I went to a wedding and all I got was this lousy Fanta!)

2010-06-27T11:11:00.000-07:00

So goes the conversation with experienced volunteers:

Them: “Anna, have you ever been to a Rwandan wedding?”

Me: “No, not yet. But I’d like to.”

Them: “Just make sure you eat before you go.”

Friday night was the party for Rema’s sister and we headed to her house at about 9 o’clock. It is near enough my house and when we arrived there was little going on. A tent had been set up in the yard and a bamboo fence erected around the house to prevent visitors from wandering around. Soon enough the music began and so did the dancing. Imagine African pop music with the odd song by Acon (is that his name anyway?). Now imagine Rwandan with rhythm and then, me. I’ve never felt whiter and I don’t love dancing at the bar at the best of times but when in Rome….or in Kibungo. At 12:30 the DJ unplugged the plug. Quite literally. In the middle of the song but then again, people needed to get home and sleep to be prepared for the wedding. We headed home and late to bed, early to rise the next morning meant that Saturday was going to be a long, long day.

The invitation said 10 o’clock for the following morning. We were told we should be there by 11. Of course, as in true fashion, Christine and I had a long breakfast with good fruit and great coffee and time got away from us. At 10:45, Rema called us and said we should be there now. So we quickly showered and arrived by 11:30. The wedding still hadn’t started but unfortunately all the seats in the shade had been taken and me, with a combination of doxycyline and Irish genetics running through my system, my SPF 30 wasn’t enough to prevent the burning process. Thankfully a few people left early and we snuck under the shade so that for the majority of the 3-hour dowry ceremony we were protected from the sun.

Rwandan weddings go like this: Weeks before the ceremony the couple is married in a civil ceremony in the Sector offices where they make promises, not to God, but to the country and Mr. Kagame and all that. Then, weeks later, there is a Friday night party (see above) followed by a dowry ceremony the next morning, followed by a religious ceremony, followed by a religious ceremony, followed by a reception. And if you’re lucky, you’ll drink a few dozen Fantas and eat a piece of meat….or two.

Rema’s sister was having her dowry ceremony in Kibungo with the reception to following in Kigali but we decided to forgo Kigali in favour of attending another wedding of a colleague of Christine’s. Okay…so where were we? Oh…arriving an hour and half late but yet still not being late.

During the dowry ceremony the families sit under tents on each side of the property and the groom’s family offers the father of the bride a number of things from Fanta to beer to cows but when Rema’s dad asked for 8 cows, the grooms family said it was too many. There were cows and they sent a vet and a cowboy to inspect their quality. Of course, this is all for show and it’s as if you’re watching a play, complete with no cow but a CD with the sound of a mooing cow played on the loud speakers. The bride and groom have yet to arrive but when they do, it’s quite traditional. The men are wearing traditional gowns and carry either staffs or spears. The women bring baskets and gifts for the groom. There are jokes and promises – all in Kinyarwanda but we got the point. Eventually the groom must ask permission of the bride’s brothers and they share a kiss on the cheek and Voila! They are married! We were given food – two cubes of a meat, one small potato and some rice – and of course a Fanta. Three hours later, the family was ready to head to Kigali and we were ready to head to wedding number 2. This one begins at 3:00pm and so we’ve got about a half another to walk there.

On the way we stop to visit Jeremy at 3:30 decide we should make our way to the church. But there is no one around and the few women waiting seem to think there is no wedding going on. Maybe we have the wrong church? We walk to another church (Rwanda has as many churches as they have police checks. And they have as many police checks as they have banana trees….). Nope. No wedding there either. But by the time we make it back to check the church again it’s already 4:30 and finally the busses had arrived. So, we were at the right church but just early. Well, we arrived late but still early because the wedding started 1 ½ late. This is a Catholic church a Catholic wedding (dowry ceremony had taken place earlier that day in Christine’s village). The bride wore white – she also was about 6 months pregnant!

It was the first time I’d been in a church since arriving in Rwanda, save for the time we were stuck in Nyarabuye during a rainstorm. I’ve my own reasons for avoiding being in Rwandan churches but I supposed this was a good excuse to take communion for the first time since arriving. And I was looking forward to the predictability of a Catholic Mass where, even if we didn’t understand the language, we could predict the duration based on the staples: first reading, gospel, sign of peace, communion etc. Predictability, though, goes out the window when one hour later we still have changed bread into body. The songs seemed to go on forever, and forever, Amen. Having been raised attending Mass regularly, we were getting it. At least we thought we were getting it all. (Sign of peace – thankfully we can say Peace in Kinyarwanda – amahoro – and look not too out of place). However, when the bride and groom stood with baskets at the front and collected money, we thought this was our opportunity to give the traditional gift of 5000 Francs. Great! We’re prepared. Christine went up and placed the money in the basket. Noticing only 100 Franc coins we didn’t think anything of it until later when we realized that this wasn’t the gift for the couple, it was the collection basket. So, a big muzungu donation to St. Andre’s, I suppose. Eventually we reached transubstantiation and, in my limit Kinyarwanda, I tried to follow. I’m pretty sure there was something said about onions but I can’t really be sure. I did take communion and was surprised to learn that it tastes the same. Like McDonald’s French fries, I suppose, the Vatican has a recipe which all churches must follow. Two and half hours later, the ceremony is over and we head outside to walk over for the reception. We’re hungry (it’s dinner time after all) but going to St. Joseph’s – my local haunt for brochettes and chips – but after two more hours, one Fanta, and a few speeches in Kinyarwanda, we’ve been given a small piece of cake and sent on our way.

Are you disappointed in me that in all this cultural experience, all I can think about is food? You would too. Trust me. I think I’ve had so many Fantas at celebrations, in lieu of food, that I will soon turn into one. (Talking to Peace Corps volunteers, I realize I’m not the only one. We all talk about and think about food. Always.) In reality, the lack of food was worth it. To be part of some of the biggest celebrations that happen in Rwanda, was worth it. We had a great day!

Jason and Jeremy had arrived at St. Joseph’s to watch the USA v. Ghana match and at one point, I sent them an SMS to order us brochette and chips. The wedding finished early enough for us to see the US tie the match, to the disgust of both the Rwandans (who were cheering for Ghana) and the Canadians (who were cheering against the Americans). In the end, it was the Americans funeral. They are out. In extra time, Ghana scored sending the crowd at St. Joseph’s into a frenzy.

FINALLY….after hours and hours…after two weddings and an American funeral….after a few Fanta, a few pieces of meat and a piece of cake….we arrived back at Chez Anna and collapsed into a much needed night of rest.

Photos: Wedding #2

2010-06-27T11:10:00.000-07:00

Bridge and Groom arrive at the Church

Traditional Catholic ceremony

After the vows, the couple had to dance in the traditional Intore style

Now there are people bringing money up. This is Christine and I discussing what to do. We thought it was time to give the 5000 Franc gift. So we did. We were wrong. It was the collection and we should have given a couple hundred only. Whoops.

If we only knew this was the collection basket!

A 2 1/2 hour wedding is long for even Rwandans. This guy was checking his phone.

Choir

Choir director and his never ending songs

Christine and I with the Vice Mayor of Keirhe District, Bernadette

Even they get Fantas....

....but eventually we found some beer!

Photos: Wedding #1

2010-06-27T11:03:00.000-07:00

Member of brides family asking for a dowry.

Bride arrives (this is a traditional Rwandan- Muslim wedding)

Bridesmaids bearing gifts

Dancers

Groom getting through the men in the brides family

Happily married

Are we there yet?

Crowd from the town gathered outside to watch also.

Traditional Rwandan furniture. Yes, those are made of banana leaves.

Christine and Rema

Ismael - the proud Father of the Bridge

Photos: Another workshop in Kibungo.

2010-06-27T10:58:00.000-07:00

After four days of training, I finally remembered my camera. Just in time to catch a few visual aids on film....and a Happy baby.

Seriously...this baby is Happy. That's her name. Happy. She was two months old and spent a good part of her time in my arms. She was Happy but not as nice as Nice. Nice was the baby that was there the day before. Seriously. That was her name. Nice. Happy and Nice. How could you not love them?

Photos: Jason's birthday . Whoops. No pictures of Jason

2010-06-27T10:54:00.001-07:00

Since learning that Jenga is a Swahili word, that games seem so much cooler. And when you enjoy a large Primus with it. Well....

Oh. No. Wait. There's Jason. In the back!

Photos: Farewells in Kigali June 18 and 19

2010-06-27T10:45:00.000-07:00

In Kigali to attend the Leavers' Forum and going away dinners for both Ruairi and Karen.

4am. Our hotel. Tap that had been left on but no water. Water came back on. At 4am. We had a flood in our room....which went out to the hall.

And the next day at Papyrus Restaurant (where I'm pretty sure Evangeline Lilly was eating next to us!)

True Canadian representation: A Francophone, an Anglophone and a bi-lingual Canadian.

The gangs all here.

Karen, Sarah, Mel and Libby

Christine and Karen

Our 4:30am wake up call to see of Karen as she left for Tanzania. Oh the memories of the Taqwa bus.

Don't go.....

...but she did!

And later at what used to be called Handee.... to say good bye to Ruairi.

Food was amazing

At one point we could not find a server to replace our beers and then they all showed up dancing and singing happy birthday to Ruairi. Apparently, they mistook his going away for a birthday party. Oh well. Free cake!

Photos: Why Anna is out of duct tape

2010-06-27T10:39:00.000-07:00

See the bowl at the top of the photos? I tried to duct tape it to the side of my shower to keep soap in. Amy's comment was "What's with the ghetto soap dish?" So I tried to pull it off. In doing so, I pulled all the tiles off. Whoops. Oh well...nothing a little duct tape won't help!

Photos: TTC Zaza June 14 and 15

2010-06-27T10:16:00.000-07:00

Arriving on Day 2: Mary, Damien, Me, Jason, Innocent

Assembly in the morning

In an effort to have a model lesson with new content, we decided to teach about the provinces of Canada. Here is me with a map asking students what they think it is. The look on my face might have been in response to one answer. "Is it a map of America?"

NO! It's Canada...

...and I'm from Alberta

Now you try and fill in the provinces.

I taught them the game "Molecules" that I learned from Paula.

They loved it!

Showing them how to use K-W-L to introduce a new topic.

Coming back from lunch. And yes, I use my rain cover everywhere, every time. Other wise my bag would be red with dirt.

The beginning of teaching about visual aids. I have them put their name cards on the wall and look at them from a distance. Because the concept is so new to Rwanda, many teachers don't realize that sometimes a child simply can't read what's written because it's too small or too untidy.

Jeremy showing the gang what a rice sack is.

Attempting sealing the rice sack with a candle for the first time.

And their off!

Finished products

And more

And more...and Jason

And another....what IS so funny?

Can't leave without taking a photo. Can you see us? Sort of like Where's Waldo, eh?

Nope. It's not a tan.

Just a 45 minute moto ride in the dust.

A Week in Review

2010-06-25T10:26:00.000-07:00

Here's a quick rundown of events in the last week and yes, I know I've promised pictures for all my visual learner friends (Gorb!), I can't seem to manage to get around to it. Truthfully, most days I've forgotten my camera and am waiting on Jeremy to give me some photos.

The week has been long but successful. Our workshops that were to be funded by the district still had no funding at 8:45am the morning of - even though it had been "approved" weeks ago. So after a few conversations, it was sorted and we went ahead. Over all, the workshops were a success. Today was the final day and because ministers had a meeting nearby and did not want to hear teachers making noise, our lunch was moved so the teachers were more or less hidden from view down the road. But we all wolfed down our food and rushed back to finish. Each workshop finishes with rice sack creation. It's so simple but what's missing from Rwandan schools. Either way, at 4pm on Friday I was done and ready to get home. Even Jeremy couldn't persuade me for a beer.

Not much else went on this week but training all day (aka: working) is exhausting. Okay, working isn't really hard in general but working in Africa is really hard sometimes. Thursday we went out to celebrate Jason's 40th and, like the mature adults we are, played Jenga (which, incidentally, is a Swahili word meaning "to build."). I kicked ass - even after a big Primus.

Christine is visiting and we're to go to a wedding tonight although we're both on the internet and have not eaten yet. Soon enough I suppose. It's just about a full moon and there's nothing I like better than Kibungo at night during a full moon. Okay, well there are few things I like better but at this exact moment, it's nice to see. We did have a little incident of a preying mantis flying in and scaring us half to death, getting it on a box and throwing the box outside. Johnny Boy was outside at the time and after we shut the door a soft "Anna! Anna!" Sometimes I think he thinks were all nuts!

Tomorrow is umaganda and I usually hide out in my house but tomorrow is another part to the wedding so we'll get all dressed up and show the police the wedding invitation when we're stopped. At least, that's the plan. Apparently there is another wedding that afternoon so I may get some use out of the dresses I bought in Zanzibar after all. Sunday I plan on sleeping in and then watch Germany kick the snot out of England at 4pm.

Next week Aimey arrives and I'm so excited that I'm finding it hard to focus. Then, friends, the A-Team will be reunited again and this blog will, once again, record the adventures that follow. I'm just hoping for less altitude sickness.

When I get around to it, I'll put up a crap load of pictures.

Sport for People with Disabilities

2010-06-24T07:54:00.000-07:00

While you wait for me to post photos of the last week or so, check out the link below. The National Rwanda Sitting Volleyball Team is heading to the States for the World Championships! Just another example of how this country coming together and moving forward!

http://npcrwanda.wordpress.com/

It's all about the music: Part 1

2010-06-22T10:27:00.000-07:00

Oh how I love my iTunes!

Since I've been here my iTunes has kept me sane. I've had my favourite music to listen to while I'm, you know boiling water to drink, boiling my sheets to kill bedbugs, working on rice sacks, riding on the bus to Kigali, enjoying Saturday morning coffee. I seem - when there is electricty - to always be listening to music. And I also have a lot of time to think. And as you've read I can come up with the wickedest (is that a word?) playlists. Remember, Jason's "Songs for the Birds" or my playlist for coming home to Alberta. Well, folks, as it happens I have a lot of (great) songs about coming home. Not just Alberta Bound (although I will be in less than 2 months) but a few others that maybe you won't have heard of. Or, if you have great taste in music, like me, you will. :) So, as my time here draws to an end and in an effort replace trepidation with contemplation, in the next few weeks I will share with you a few of my favourite songs that are about coming home. For those of you who may accuse me of having no emotion....eat your heart out. This stuff is sappy! Run right away....or better yet...click on your favourite online music shop and give these a chance. The first is by an AMAZING Canadian artist (from Scotland....) named David Francey. If you know me, you've heard of him. I always say that if I was on a desert island the album I would bring is "Tomorrow the Green Grass" by the Jayhawks. But if I could bring one musician, it would be David Francey. And his mandolin.

LONG WAY HOME by David Francey

From the album Torn Screen Door

I can hear the rain beating on the window pane

And the wind keeps asking when I'm going to see you again

It's another memory of you

On another night along

It's another night in the year of the long way home.

Wipers steady as a heartbeat, thunder like a passing train

Headlights picking out weeping willow

Crying on the shoulder again

It's another night on back road

Stretch tight like skin on bone

It's another mile in the year of the long way home

It's a long way baby, It's a long way I know

It's a rough road to travel

In the year of the long way home

When my hands can finally touch you

When you're in my arms to hold

When we're laying together laughing again

When the stories have all been told

When I reach across the table

Hold your hand inside my own

I can see an end to the year of the long way home

It's a long way baby, It's a long way I know

It's a rough road to travel

In the year of the long way home

It's a long way baby, It's a long way I know

But I can see an end

To the year of the long way home

Happy Father's Day, Dad!

2010-06-20T05:21:00.000-07:00

Recap: Pictures coming soon!

2010-06-20T05:19:00.000-07:00

The week went by in a blur and here I am, on a Sunday, trying to remember everything that was. Hmmm…Jeremy and I had workshops in Zaza at the TTC Centre and it was a blast. The days were long as we had to be on the motorbikes by 6:30am and didn’t return home until after 5pm. Mary, a Canadian from PEI, joined us for the first two days and Jason for Tuesday. We’ll repeat the two day workshop three more times before I’m finished here. Once again at the TTC and twice in Kibungo for beginning teachers. Our focus of the workshop is to shift the thinking in the classroom from focusing on what the teachers will teach to what the students will learn. We spend a lot of time on assessment for learning and having the teachers realize that their sole purpose for being in the classroom is to help the students learn. We have moved away from the “child centred methodology” mentality that exists of fancy lessons full of group work, games, songs and resources. While these things do increase student participation, they do not necessary lead to increased student learning and achievement. At the end of the day, if a teacher cannot recognize understanding, they will not be able to teach to the child. When we focus on these things, we put the cart before the horse, so to speak. Schools are not there yet.

Instead, we want teachers to understand that if they can assess for learning, only then do they see the importance of finding new methods to improve the learning. As it is now, many teachers use great games, songs and group work only to find that at the end of the lesson the teacher will ask “Do you understand?” to which all children loudly, and proudly respond “Yes, teacher!” However, when you ask them to perform a skill or answer a question, they have difficulty demonstrating any real learning. In the end, this focus will allow teachers to develop Rwandan methodologies to achieve the learning that they want, which is best for their country instead of adopting ideas that work where we are from. So, child centred methodology, in our view and in this workshop, is moving from a focus on the teacher (“In this lesson I will teach…..) to the student (“In this lesson the students will learn….”) Seems like a small shift to Western teachers, but it’s monumental here. It’s simple but effective. At least, that’s the hope!

It was nice to have the added help over the course of the workshop. But Mary and Jason prefer the motos to drive on the cautious side (read: slowly) so Monday we rolled along the beautiful landscape and a decent but safe pace. We entered Kibungo that afternoon riding three abreast through the streets and I did have a moment of thinking “This is what Charlie and Ewan must have felt like.” By Tuesday afternoon, though, we were all tired and wanting to get home to a “shower” so we could meet up again later for beer and brochette to say good bye to Amy. Jeremy and I headed off first with Mutoni in the lead and Patrick, at the start, following closely behind. Mutoni turned to Jeremy and proudly said “I’m number one!” Mary and Jason were further behind taking in the view at a safe pace. Not to be outdone, Patrick shifted and we took off like a bullet coming up behind Jeremy and Mutoni and from behind, over took them with a wave and a smile and leaving a cloud of dust in our wake. Jeremy, recalling the story later, said “Then I said the dumbest thing I’ve ever said to a Rwandan.”

Jeremy leaned over and to Mutoni said, “Now you’re number two.”

Mutoni, wasting no time, roared past Patrick and I again and I was left feeling dirt and dust pelt against my legs and on the visor of my helmet. Patrick sped up a little until I saw a large beer truck coming towards us and, realizing we were about to enter a cloud of dust, asked him to slow down – but just a little. Jeremy and Mutoni disappeared into the zero visibility cloud of red dirt ahead of us and they were off. We both made it to our homes (in one piece) in enough time to wash and relax before Mary and Jason made it to town.

We then headed to Moderne again to say good bye to Amy who’d been here for three weeks already. I tell you, though, it seemed like she’s been living here for months. Perfectly capable of heading out to buy bread and bananas and telling the women banging on our gate to “mu gende!” It was so great to have her here and I realized how much it is nice to have company on the long dark nights fighting spiders, cockroaches and other visitors. I was sad to see her get on the bus on Wednesday afternoon. As it turned out, she needn’t have rushed.

Her Ethiopian Airlines flight was cancelled that night because “there weren’t enough passengers to make the flight worth it.” So, with no phone and it being the middle of the night, I didn’t hear from her until the following morning. In the end, she made it out Thursday afternoon and – from the email I got – made from Frankfurt to Rome to Vienna with lost luggage and 36 hours in airports. She was planning to spend two days in Vienna where she was hoping to meet up with a friend and spend her birthday. So, now I think she’s probably on a flight somewhere over the Atlantic.

Thursday I, too, was in Kigali to attend the Leavers’ Forum – a day long “So…now you’re leaving Rwanda” workshop. There were a handful of us there and even though we were to focus on the challenges that lay before us as we journey home and re-adjust into social and working life back home, it still hasn’t hit me that when I board that plane in August, I won’t be coming back. So….since it hasn’t hit me, I’ll just do what I normally do and … not talk about it! :)

Friday night we all met at Papryus to say good bye to Karen, who was heading to Tanzania on her way home to Ireland. The food was amazing and, after polishing off an entire pizza, realized that I hadn’t eaten that well in weeks. I’ve hit a wall with the food here and am having hard time eating mélange and brochettes. So thank goodness for Margherita Pizza! I am fighting a cold so I took a moto back to the hotel early and crawled into bed. 4:30am came too quickly and we were up to take a taxi down and send Karen off in style as she boarded the famous 30 –hour Taqwa bus bound for Dar es Salaam. (Remember: our trip to Zanzibar). Back to the hotel to eat and head over the VSO program office where were sleeping that night. I turned on a movie and dozed in and out of sleep for the rest of the day before we went out – again – to Handee (well, what used to be called Handee) for Ruiari’s going away dinner. Yummy Indian food washed down with Primus beer. Life in Kigali is easy street!

And so, here I am, looking around at the sun coming in through my window and the gecko on the wall that is missing part of his tail. I hear water boiling so I can take a nice warm “shower”. I’ve updated my blog (pictures coming soon) and am beginning to think of that thing that I’m not talking about – the fact that I’ll be leaving here soon. :(

That's so Rwanda Part 3

2010-06-20T05:18:00.000-07:00

Only in Rwanda:

….can you see taxi buses that are painted with images from Charlton Heston’s Ten Commandments

…do you see people wearing t-shirts that proudly display Democrat Jim Ryan’s bid for governor or that have classy sayings like “Peace, Love and Crabs.”

...when you tell someone you’re not feeling well that they ask “Oh. Malaria?” and you feel guilty when it’s just a cold

…do you get to a hotel where there is no pipe draining to sink but at least there’s a hair pick on the back of the toilet and a basin for the sink to drain. And no toilet seat. And when you turn on the shower it doesn’t work but when it does begin to work it doesn’t shut off and said basin needs to be moved from under the sink to under the shower because, as we all know, there are no showers at this hotel but rather just a shower head in the middle of the bathroom. Now where am I going to spit my toothpaste???

---is it perfectly acceptable for the woman seated next to you on the bus to snuggle right up to you and fall asleep and only in Rwanda do you think, “I might nuzzle in myself and have a quick snooze.”

…does the man behind you on the bus spill apple juice and instead of using your last piece of Kleenex to wipe the back of your legs, you give it to him to wipe down the seat next to him.

A week in photos

2010-06-13T08:23:00.000-07:00

There's been so much going on lately that I find myself not even thinking about this blog. I suppose I should pay more attention to it. (Word on the street is that it's been highlighted by VSO in the UK....Uh oh...the pressure....maybe just another word of warning...this blog is highlight SUBJECTIVE and not the full story of my experience here. It's all the ups and a few of the downs but censored quite a bit. But I digress). Where was I? Oh...busy week and all that.

Just a quick "Conversations with Patrick" entry....

Mutoni and Patrick drove Jeremy and I, respectively, out to the TTC on Thursday to check it out before our workshops this week. We drove the 40 minutes over what used to be mud (remember me walking half the way because the bike was so unstable) but what has since turned to ruts and dust. We arrived and Mutoni pulls out a towel and starts hitting Jeremy. As he does so, dust rises like PigPen in Peanuts. He continues to do this until Jeremy is relatively clean. Patrick gives me the once over, and determines that I'm fine. Probably because we were in the lead and Mutoni and Jeremy, well....ate my dust.

After the visit they picked us up and Mutoni had his radio to listen to....well...I don't know. But I asked him if it was football. Patrick pipes up and says "Anna, do you love football?" (the word for love and like are the same here)

"Yes, Patrick. I like it. You?"

"Me? No. I don't like football. I love God and money."

"God and money?"

"Yes. Me? Anna! Me? I like 1) God. 2) Money 3) My wife and child and 4) passengers"

Here are some photos from the week that was:

Global Schools Partnership workshop in Kibungo. Dorothy came up to help us out.

We registered schools on www.globalgateway.org

Suzanne already has a partner school in the UK so she came to help us.

Then we had lunch!!

From a few weeks ago in Gisenyi. This restaurant proves that not all brochettes are created equal. They were amazing.

Lake Kivu from the Serena

Sun set over the DRC and Lake Kivu

Traditional Intore Dancers

At Rukira school I had a workshop. John and Angelique surprised me with a pan of material as a thank you and good bye gift.

In the classes...talking about kidneys.

Seriously? Is this heading "Names never to call your girlfriend"?

Market in Kibungo

Consolee!!! This is the first picture I have of her. I met her while I was learning Kinyarwanda and was trying to find raw eggs. I went in her store and in Kinyarwanda said "Do you have egg no to cook." But she got it and I've been buying my eggs from her ever since. I still try to by "airtime" for my phone and whenever I do she reaches for the sanitary supplies call "Everytime" She has mad me feel like this is my home.

Making grill cheese. In Kibungo. C-H-E-E-S-E in Kibungo. (Did I mention that I'm lactose intolerant but don't care when it's something new.....

This weekend we baby sat for Dmitri and Arian so they could have a night away. I gave Adriane (3 years) my camera and look what I got! They are Belgian and I met them at a couch surfing party in October. So the kids speak French and were doing quite fine until Christine had to go for a meeting Saturday morning and I had to - gasp! - speak FRENCH myself all morning. I was reading stories in French and, thankfully, they were written for a, well, three year old. I think I understood most of it.

Lots of photos like this...

...and this....

...but sometimes they turned out like this! (I'm holding his little sister, Lucie)

World Cup fever hits Kibungo

World Cup "flat screen" television at St. Joseph's

Breakfast of French toast and caramelized bananas!! Amazing!

PS - Thanks to Amy for some of the pictures. And Adrian....

I left my camera at home. I'll try to paint a picture with words

2010-06-10T11:42:00.001-07:00

Comedy of Errors

I met Damien today – the head of the Teacher Training College (TTC) where we will do workshops on Monday. He arranged to come pick up supplies in the TTC truck from my house this evening. He was heading to Keirhe District in the afternoon to tell a family that their son (one of his students) had died in the hospital that day. But still he was Damien. A man who is always smiling and proud to pat his belly and when he sees a muzungu with a beer cut say, “You’re fat! Like me!” When I asked him what time he’s be coming around, he just replied “Oh. Later.”

“But Damien, what if I’m sleeping?” (Fully aware that it would not be unusual for him to get there at 11pm or something ungodly in land where the sun sets at 6:15pm)

“Then wake up!” He smiled.

So at 8pm Damien called. He was at the Fina Bank and would I come meet him because he doesn’t know where my house is. No problem as the bank is only about 200m from my house. But it’s through 200m of pitch black, no light, valley to then north, hill to the south. No problem. It’s not even full moon but I’ve become so accustom to it that I don’t even need the light on my cell phone. Not yet. But there is a bit of a ditch that I know is coming up so I’m navigating my way over the ditch, pulling out my light when I hear a familiar voice.

“Anna. Hi.” It’s Patrick! And he’s got a passenger but of course he stops to say hello. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to the Round Point to me the director the TTC.”

“No Anna. Director of TTC is there.” He points in the oppostive direction. The direction from which I just came. “There is his truck.” (I wonder for a minute if everyone in Rwanda knows everyone and then remember that that truck has TTC Zaza printed in clear blue letters. But still it’s pitch black and I sure as hell didn’t see a truck drive by)

“I’ll call him,” I say pulling out my phone-come-flashlight.

Sure enough, when Damien answers he’s driving passed me and I tell him that my moto friend saw him and to wait there I’ll come. Patrick pulls away – toward Damien also – and I head back to meet him. But as I’m coming I see Damien’s tail lights pull away. He’s driving away. My phone comes out again.

“Damien! Where are you going?”

“I see your moto! I’m coming!” Damien, having mistaken Patrick’s passenger for me, is now following him half way to Uganda.

“No!! That’s not me. Come back!!”

So he turns around on the high way and I stand in the direct head light so he can see the muzungu (as if it’s hard) and he’ll know where my house is. But as he’s driving and pulling off toward me I see that he’s headed toward a large drainage hold near my gate. I’m waving “Stop! Stop! Go around! Go around!” But he’s on the phone and plop! Right into the whole goes the front wheel. After he gets of the phone he bellows a “No problem!!!” And even though it looks like he won’t get out…he does. Still smiling. We get into my house and he is bursting with smiles as if he hadn’t driven to the neighbouring district to tell a family that their son had died.

“Go home,” I tell him “It’s been a long day.”

As he walked out of my house he passed Johnny Boy, my guard and in Kinyarwanda told him “Take care of our child.” And he patted me on the arm.

Rwanda’s Child

Today I felt a little hand in mine and thought I would write something about Rwanda’s children. It is, after all, why I’m here.

It’s dry season again. Despite the rain in Gitarama I think they have finished in the East. It’s hot here. So hot. I left work early to come home and work on rice sacks. I turned on to the dirt road that leads from the district to my house. It was dusty and hot and my eyes squinted as I made my way down the hill. I passed Les Hirondelles school and heard, from somewhere far behind me “Umuzungu!” I turned and looked trhough a cloud of dust left by a passing motorcycle and there was a little girl. I’ve seen her before. I didn’t know where but she ran toward me. And ran. And ran. And as she plopped her little hand in mine and hung on. We spoke a little Kinyarwanda to each other but she wasn’t all that interested in having a conversation. Instead we walked, side by side, down the dusty path. Some women were working on our way and we stopped to say “hello.” The women roared with gales of laughter when I said “Nfite inshuti” (I have a friend) and then proceeded to notice my hair, hot with sweat, curly with humidity all over my face. One of the woman reached up to get the wisps of hair in my eyes. (The ones my mom will see and yank off me as if she were pulling off a band-aid only to realize that ‘Oowww. It was attached!) After my hair was acceptable, my little friend and I carried on down the hill. Me taking slower smaller steps to accommodate the little legs and her little feet shuffling along in pink flip flops that are two sizes too big. She’s got my hand gripped firmly in her left hand and in her right she is carrying a grape flavoured hard candy and trying to keep a heave sweater in the crook of her arm. She’s got on a pack. She’s coming from school. We cross the road – the highway to Tanzania where large freighter trucks rumble through at all hours of the day and where it is no place for a three year old. At the moto garage I give a proud “Nfite inshuti!” again and ask Papa Zero where the little girls home is. (Papa Zero is a mechanic there – although he never seems to work and has the softest hands in the southern hemisphere – and how aquired the name “Papa Zero” when I asked him how many children he had and his response was just that. “Me. Papa. Zero.”) He directed me to a house just past my own and I walked her there. She’s not really ready to let go. When we arrived however, some boys came out to play and the three of them continued to walk together after I left her along the hot highway. I turned back to see where she had gone only to see a truck rumble past and one of the boys grab her by her arm to pull her to the shoulder. So, here’s this little girl with too-big-flip-flops walking along a busy side walk. She has a mother but she is probably working. So the community cares for her. Papa Zero, some boys that might be five and me. I guess I’m part of that community now.

This Isn't Your Parents' Gitfest

2010-06-06T22:44:00.000-07:00

This weekend Gitarama hosted the second? third? annual Gitfest! The theme was … well “this isn’t your parents' Gitfest” seemed appropriate to me. Either way, we were told by our gracious hosts to come as a fixture of festival life. We travelled to Muhanga (which is the other name for Gitarama) and had the bus driver a pull a big U turn in the middle of town so we could get to hotel. Of course we had friends at the back of the bus who we nearly T-boned because of our driver’s hasty decision. Either way, we made it to the Splendid Hotel just in time to meet up with Ken who was meeting with “the Band” to get us to the venue. After downing a Primus (boy those bus rides make you thirsty!) we headed out to the “Hacienda of Dreams!” We arrived and pulled out our costumes. We were….well…."With The Band." Amy made us groupie backstage passes and gave us groupie names. The night was filled with … power cuts, candles, brochettes, potatoes, music, songs sung proudly during the well known choruses and mumbles through the verses, a few dozen abana (children) shouting from the hill and generally good times. Well, except for the downpour and the lack of motos to take us back to the hotel at night. Why do I wear jeans in rainy season? (Thankfully the hotel provided me with an iron in the morning to steam my jeans dry. Never have I looked so good!)

Sunday we stopped in Kigali so that I could take Amy to the Genocide Memorial. Still graphic and difficult, I found this visit much harder. Now the pictures and the people and the locations that are discussed are closer to home. This is my home. These are my friends. I couldn’t bear to go in the children’s room again. It’s too hard.

In other news, I received some GREAT news over the telephone this week. First - I'm going to be a mother! Okay...okay. Not for real... but I was asked my a friend to be the Godmother to her baby girl who I will affectionately begin to call G. And while at the above mentioned Gitfest I got another call and ...I'm going to be an Aunt again! Okay...okay. Not for real...but one of my oldest friends is going to have a baby this year! So...I guess it's time I start heading for home so I can be there to buy cute little outfits, babysit and...only when required, change a dirty diaper. I mean, it can't be worse than pit latrines in Rwanda, right?

Here are some pictures from Gitfest.

We're with the band.

Costume called Farmer Paul. (Festival organizers encroaching on his land)

The food was gorgeous. I didn't know you get these ingredients here.

Maybe they WERE at my parents' festival

She's with the band.

I'm with the band too.

Karen and Melanie came as PortaPotties. But they smelled better.

Groupies: Trixi, Candi and Roxy

What's a festival without brochettes.

Here's the band

After walking home in the rain.

Just give me love

2010-06-01T11:38:00.000-07:00

So…after successfully getting the permit and eating a nice lunch at Bourbon café with my new book, The Weight of Water, I headed to VSO to get some Benjamins and then caught a moto to the airport at exactly 1:19pm (Amy’s flight had arrived – I had hoped – four minutes before). From a distance I see the tail of the gigantic Ethiopian Airlines flight and hope I haven’t missed her. But I arrive (and see a fellow VSO who is heading to Canada for a week) and collect Amy, who has been travelling for no less than 48 hours. She’s a bit dazed but I decide that we might as well attempt the 2 hour journey to Kibungo before she knows what hit her.

To the bus park only to wait 30 minutes in a hot smell bus. She’s is managing quite well considering and I reassure her over and over again that it will only be 2 hours.

I was wrong.

Three hours and two police check points later (one of which we were all required to exit the bus and provide our ID cards), we arrived in Kibungo with new friends who helped us by … finding toilets en route, picking up Amy’s sweater that fell out of the bus and into the mud, explaining to us that “Yes, the police do want you out of the bus” and by getting the driver to stop at the round-about even though he had no intention of doing so. I made a dinner and when it was good and late (8:30 in Kibungo), I tucked Amy into her mosquito net and think how crazy it is that I haven’t seen Amy in over 15 years when we were cruising the halls of St. Joe’s!

Wednesday was a “Show Amy Kibungo” and, yes, that can take a whole day. Thursday we went to the library where she will help. We stopped by Patrick’s house to visit his family and say “hello.” Little Pamela brought out all of her new clothes and showed them off for us. Delphine and Patrick invited us for dinner to the following Tuesday. Friday we hopped on a bus and got off 6 hours (or so) later in Gisenyi.

Gisenyi is the northern city on Lake Kivu and border the Democratic Republic of Congo town called Goma. We checked into the Presbyterian Guest house for reasonable rates and clean beds. The walls are another story as I believe we left at least one spider carcass on it. We used our trusty Bradt guide to find out (from the good folks at the Serena and where we couldn’t afford to eat) that most of the hotels listed in the guide are shut down but that La Corniche would be a nice place for a brochette. Which is it was. Now, I am beginning to think of myself as a bit of a brochette aficionado and La Corniche had some of the best. Amy and I enjoyed the bit of goat with a bit of Primus and a bit of a wander down memory lane and who’s doing what and where and with whom!

The Saturday was umaganda so we were stuck and said guest house with said spiders and said stain on wall but somehow we passed the hours easily catching up as friends from years ago tend to do – over coffee, sunshine, dry bread, powered milk and omelette! We headed over the Serena where yesterday we knew we couldn’t afford to eat but today we knew we could afford to swim! We lounged poolside and swam in the blue water of the pool that looked out toward the lake and the mountains of the DRC. At dinner time we met Amy’s friend at the border of the DRC (she lives in Goma) and sped alone the road, through windy mountain villages to Paradise Malahide for sundowners and dinner. (Always wanted to say I was going for sundowners!) We did watch the sun set over the lake and later took in some traditional intore dancers before seeing Naomi off at the border at about 10pm. It was dark. She was going in to the Congo. She seemed to be very calm about it and maybe that was the armoured vehicle that would pick her up on the other side but Amy and I were a bit unnerved. At least we got a “home safe” text from her a half hour later.

Sunday was a long, long day back to Kibungo and Monday an uneventful day in Kibungo.

Today was busy. I think I tired Amy out and as she is laying exhausted on my couch I can only remember that I’ve been at it for 9 months. How on earth did I manage? I had a meeting this morning with F and F (Fabien and Francis…the big bosses) to settle some details about a workshop we’re doing. Then to Nyamugali to do some work at the library. Lunch was quick and at Moderne. Amy, Emmanual and I headed off to Bare to look at their library. It was Amy’s first “off road” experience and Patrick promised we’d go “gache gache” which we did until he sped off in front for a moment, causing Amy’s driver to try to catch up, giving Amy a small heart attached and she looked over and ask me to slow down. I just had to remember back to my first ride to Rukira when I arrived when I, as Jeremy puts it, “lost the will to live.” So, okay, we slowed down. I missed my race through the country but puttering along lets me look at the views a little longer.

Tonight we were invited to Patrick and Delphine’s for dinner. He drove us there with his friend, Jafette. We arrived and Pamela was wearing her new clothes that she showed us last week. Delphine had put on her nicest clothes and washed after a day of school and cooking. We were greeted with great smiles and “Karibu!” “Welcome!”. Patrick’s baby sister (she’s 2!) was playing quietly, Delphine was putting out plates and Patrick raced off to buy Fanta and we settled into dinner of rice, sweet potatoes, fries, meet and omelette. They played music and I gave Pamela a ball which she played with until her mom finally ordered her to eat some food! Patrick said in the English that has been improving all year “Anna. This is your home. You are my family.” Patrick’s mom, Leonie, who is a teacher at Nyamugali joined us after work. We took photos, played ball and danced with the little babies. Patrick and I tormented a giggling Pamela in a game of keep away and at one point I was about to throw the ball to Patrick when Pamela squared up, put her little hands on her knees, crouched slightly and sneered – with a giggle – “Muzuuuunguuuu!” She know just what to say!

After hugs and thank yous and murakoze cyanes, Patrick and Jafette got us on our way home. When we arrived I asked Patrick how much he waned for the drive. He looked at me and shook his head.

“No problem Anna. Just give me love. No problem. Have a good night!” And he was off.

Just like that. A family with nothing. No electricity. No doors on their house. Delphine is an orphan. A house with a bedroom and a sitting room. A sitting room with just a coffee table and four chairs. And yet, they gave it to us. Generous beyond anything I have every experienced. And so, when Patrick tells me to come back before I go to Canada to say good bye, I know I will. He has shown me the best side of Rwanda. He has made me feel like I’m part of something wonderful here. I guess that’s what he means by love.

Gorilla permit: check

2010-06-01T11:35:00.000-07:00

Just like the rain in dry season, my creative juices have all dried up. Actually, what’s dried up is my countless hours on my own with time to think and write in this little blog. It’s been a week only but a long week. Let’s review, shall we.

Tuesday I woke early because it was a big day. Off to Kigali to get gorilla permits for July, to VSO to get reimbursed and then off ot the airport to meet a friend, Amy, who will join me for three weeks. I arrive in Kigali early (read: bus ride frightfully fast) and head to the ORTPN.

Me: “I’d like two permits for July 12^th, please”

Them: “Sorry. It’s sold out.”

Me: “Okay. How about the 13^th?”

Them: “Sorry, it’s also sold out.”

Me: “Okay…” (looking at calender to see when I’ll be back in the country) “How about August 12^th?”

Them: “Sorry. July and August are all sold out.”

Me: “I think I will cry.”

But I didn’t cry. No, I’m a VSO volunteer and in the face of challenges such as these we perservere. As it so so happened, there WAS a spot in July that had become available because of a cancellation so I asked for this one and if they took MasterCard.

Them: “No.”

Me: “Okay. No problem.”

And it wasn’t a problem. Not yet. Because I can go across the street to get a cash advance at Access bank which (besides tending to give out counterfit money) tends to be relatively reliable. So I race over the bank and ask for a cash advance.

Them: “Sorry, your card has been declined.”

Me: “What? No!”

Them: “Maybe there’s a limit.”

Me: “There’s not.” (well, really, there is but I don’t reach it ever.)

So ask it turns out there may be a cash advance limit but we just tried to take out two separate advances and voila! I had cash in my hand (and the serial numbers to go along with them) and I headed back over to ORTPN.

Me: “Here!”

Them: “Do you have your residents’ card?”

Me: “Yes! Here it is.”

Them: “Great, we just need to photocopy…….”

END SCENE.

Okay not really end scene but this in when the power goes out and I stare at the woman behind the counter who is blankly staring at me. There is nothing she cand do. So we wait. And wait. And wait.

But the power goes on and, permits in hand, walk out of the ORPTN smiling! I will be trekking to see the mountain gorillas in Rwanda in July! (Not trekking to kill the mountain gorillas as the word “permit” might suggest. Hunting strictly prohibited.)

A week in photos

2010-06-01T11:19:00.001-07:00

Anna, Pamela, Patrick, Delphine and Muhirwa

And off to Gisenyi....

Sunset over the mountains of the DRC

Sundowners: Primus and white wine

Fishermen on Lake Kivu

Intore Dancers

Next to flying maggots, this is the grossest thing I've seen in Rwanda. It was first on the ground in pain. Must have been hurt. Not that I cared. And then he managed to cling to the tree to climb his way back up.

And back in Kibungo....

Shelves waiting to be filled

Thankfully Amy is an architect back in Calgary!

We took a break from the hard work to watch the P1 students involved in a relay game.

Primary schedule

Organization at Nyamugali

Sometimes I do get out from behind the camera, leave my camera on the table and find that the head teacher has taken it!

And then at Patrick's house....

Delphine really so shy she wouldn't take credit for the great meal.

Pamela sat drinking a Fanta and her mother told her to smile!

Patrick and Pamela

In the banana trees

Patrick, Delphine (his wife), Leonie (his mother), Jafette (his friend)

Pamela (his daughter) and Murhiwa (his sister)

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

2010-05-26T06:14:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-24T07:58:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-24T01:59:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-21T06:50:00.001-07:00

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

2010-05-21T06:42:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-20T12:30:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-20T00:00:00.000-07:00

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.

2010-05-13T11:09:00.000-07:00

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!

2010-05-13T11:04:00.000-07:00

I’ve been absolutely negligent when it comes to updating the blog. I can’t figure out why. It seems that there’s been nothing tow rite about. Now, I know that’s not true. The things that used to make me want to write before are less interesting and more, well, just life.

Sunday I travelled to Nyamugali to visit Christine and Elise. The intent was to do some walking around her town but, since they’d been to a wedding the night before in “the Nyak” and didn’t get a good night’s sleep, we just sat, visited and made a great salad with vegetables and herbs from Christine’s garden.

Back at work I visited schools and went to a workshop held by Jeremy. On Wednesday we decided to head out the Teacher Training College in Zaza to meet with Damien. We’ll have a workshop out there in June and thought we’d see the venue. Plus, Suzanne has been out there for the last month and I threatened to visit her while she was teaching. She quickly told me that her lesson would be in Kinyarwanda. Plus, it was FOUR HOURS LONG. Honestly! They scheduled her to teach a four hour lesson. That’s worse than a night class at university. Before we even left Kibungo, Patrick called at 6:30 concerned about the rain and condition of the roads. Our meeting was not for another few hours and so I told him we’d decide at 8:30. By then the rain had stopped so we ventured out. But we hit the muddy patch just before Zaza. Mutoni, Jeremy’s driver, expertly navigated his way through and when Patrick hesitated, just laughed and breezed passed him saying “Nte bazo! Gache gache” (No problem! Little by little). Patrick continued but in the end, I got off and walked a bit to make it easier. Of course, when we arrived he pointed to his tire and said “Tire is finished.” I was worried that he meant it was flat but it turned out that it was only bald. That would have explained our lack of control.

When arrived we visited with Suzanne before she taught and decided on our venue with Damien. Before we hopped back on the bikes, Patrick treated me to another “Patrickism.” A group of girls was passing by and he said, “Anna. Big girl. No good,” referring to the larger girl in the middle. He puffed his cheeks and gestured as if he had a large pair of hips. “Big girl. No good. My Vision 2020,” he said referring to the name of Rwanda’s plan of economic development “is small girl.” He continued gesturing a slimmer version of his ideal girl. His Vision 2020.

Salad from Christine's garden - minus the tuna, of course

Wanted: A Freezer in Kibungo

2010-05-13T10:58:00.000-07:00

May 8, 2010

I have become a bit of a technical genius while in Rwanda. I see that locals will fix EVERYTHING and ANYTHING. It makes me think we are so wasteful in the west. If something breaks, we just chuck it out and get a new one. I admit, I have this mentality too. So when my internet modem wasn’t working, I was all prepared to go to Kigali and simply by another instead of fixing it. But with some patience (of which I am usually short on supply), I fixed the problem all by my self. Yay!!!

And now….

I bought a WD External Hard drive and loaded that 500MB baby up with movies and television shows to help me through the long nights. It wasn’t cheap and the HOURS of downloading things took forever. Truthfully, I had more – much more – than I needed. But I had variety. And friends were so nice to led me things to down load (Ang, Amanda, Nadine). It was working fine until this morning when it started to make a strange clicking sound and is not readable by my computer. Awesome. So, now that my internet is fixed, I’m trying to find a solution. There has been a lot of computer lingo that I don’t understand but there was one solution that I found simple and mildly entertaining. “Put it in the freezer.”

Now, if only I could find one of those in Kibungo.

Back at work....

2010-05-07T01:54:00.000-07:00

Jeremy and I visited Les Hirondelles here in Kibungo this week. It's a private school in town and has the resources to show for it. It is the recipient of no government funding. It is funded by parents and, I believe, Soroptimist group. Teachers' salaries here are double what they are in the public school. This school's results are much, much higher than many others in the district. We wanted to find out what this school is doing differently and what information we could bring to other schools in the district.

Les Hirondelles volley ball court in Kibungo

Overlooking the valley

Computer lab for secondary students. These computers were donated but currently are only in Chinese so the school is waiting for a technician to come and help them. The computers are great, there is electricity in the classroom but as of yet they have been waiting for tow months.

Because Les Hirondelles is a private school, they do not qualify to have One Laptop Per Child given to them. However, they have purchased 25 computers for primary students. Again, they are waiting in boxes for technician to arrive!

They are sturdy enough - we hope - for Rwandan conditions.

The girls at Les Hirondelles are into knitting but have had to be inventive about how to get needles. They use the inside of pens as needles instead.

Friday night knitting club? This girl has a completed scarf and one on the way. Too bad rainy season is almost over and it will be too hot to wear it!

Welcome back - in photos!

2010-05-07T01:53:00.000-07:00

After five weeks of the water being off, this was the colour I was treated to. It's sad to say that this is the colour of the water even if its been off for a few hours!

After a while, the water ran....clear? This is a small bucket and after a few hours, I'd still find sentiment at the bottom.

Back to daily chores. This is the water before it ran clear.

And if I wasn't happy with the water coming out of the tap, I suppose I could have taken water coming through the window.

Thankfully, my house is build on the top of a valley into which it is sinking. Therefore, any leaking water usually finds its way outside the back of the house and doesn't pool uphill!

It’s Just like Riding a ….. Motorbike

2010-05-07T01:52:00.000-07:00

It’s All in the Milk

I boarded the plane in Calgary on Saturday and prepared myself for a long, long journey after the long, long goodbye. Thanks to my friend, Gravol, I was able to sleep before arriving in London. Thanks to Wade, I was able to sleep again at Heathrow because of an Air Canada pass into the London Lounge. Free internet and free food and a place to put up my feet. At about 7:30 in the evening, I made my way to Gate 3 and remembered doing this 8 months ago when I was first coming to Africa. I remember looking everywhere for a girl named “Christine” who’s picture I had been sent. We’d be travelling to Rwanda together. I remember boarding the plane being terrified and excited and then I remember seeing how little room there was between the seats and wondering how I would ever catch a rest. This time, I scored three empty seats across the middle and, after dinner, gather ALL the pillows and blankets from said three seats and rested up for the flight to Nairobi. I awoke to the banging of the table tray in front of me being brought down, hitting my knee, with my breakfast. I woke a little bit homesick and still wondering if I was up for another four months. The sunrise was coming up over the Indian Ocean and there, in the distance, was Mount Kenya and once again the sky of bright orange was broken by a band of cloud and revealed a deep blue on the other side. It was the same thing I saw when I first got here. Okay…maybe I can do this. Of course, the “I’m ready for Africa” moment really came when I was brought coffee. I took a sugar packet and asked him for milk. He held out the tray again. I said, “You don’t have milk?” “Yes. Here!” he said again. I stared at the tray and, failing to see the packet of powered milk, wondered what he was talking about. “Here,” he said giving me the jug of…real milk. Yup, I’m ready to be back!

Anna’s Suitcase Overnights in Nairobi

The Nairobi-Kigali flight was late leaving and some ex-pat in the bulk head refused to put his bag in the overhead compartment which, after arguing with the attendants, led us to being another 15 minutes late. The plane touched down in the pouring rain and so we were all corralled into a waiting bus. No mini-bus taxi thankfully. I came through customs fast and waited for my luggage. Again, remembering arriving with Christine and Portia and tired and groggy and not sure what we were getting ourselves into. As I waited, I got a call from Karen who was at the VSO office nearby. We chatted for a bit. I continued to wait for my bag and I always get a pit in my stomach as I wait. I always think that my luggage will be lost. Call it fatalistic but I tend to sweat and my heart rate increases until I actually see it coming round the carousel. Still no bag and I get a call again from Karen and she’s saying “Anna! Smile!” and I turn and see her on the other side of security. She came all the way from Gitarama to meet me!! “You looked stressed,” she said and I explained that I still didn’t have my luggage. Of course, I wasn’t worried as long as there were others waiting and the carousel was still running. Then it stopped. My suitcase, as it turns out, never made it to the plane because it was already full when it left Nairobi. “Oh, don’t worry, “ the lovely KGL rep says to me. “It will come in at about 3am on the next flight.”

Under a Mosquito Net Once Again

Still raining, Karen and I treated ourselves to a proper taxi into town. In my lack of sleep, jet lagged, 36 hours of travelling, mind, we shared our latest journeys: mine to Canada and her’s to Tanzania. Into UTC so I could buy electricity and bread and then Karen and I parted ways and I caught a bus to Kibungo on my own. I tried to stay awake for the journey but at one point, was jolted awake but someone opening the window. Had I fallen asleep sitting up? Yes, I must have. The men around got a great laugh as the cold air hit my face and my eyes shot open with surprise. I stayed awake for the rest of the way home. When my bus arrived at Kibungo, I was greeted by yet another friendly face – Patrick! Big hugs all around and he offered me a ride home. I stopped to see Consollee for samosas and she – after getting over the shock of seeing what I can only imagine she thought was a ghost – hugged me an didn’t let go until, I’m sure, she decided I was real. I finally arrived back to Chez Anna in the dark and yes, I was out of electricity. So, I dropped my bag , punched in the numbers and VOILA! There was light. I looked around and thought “This is it?” I didn’t remember the peeling paint, the dirt on the walls, the spider webs, the low wattage light bulbs that dangle from each room. This was my home? Yes, it was….. I did manage a shower in the freezing water and had some toast before collapsing under my mosquito net.

Beer and Brochettes

Tuesday morning I enjoyed a long Rwandan coffee and then called Kenyan Airways to find out that yes, my baggage arrived. So, back on the bus to Kigali and off at VSO for more “hellos” and “welcome backs.” Bosco was nice enough to drive me to pick up my suitcase and then to the bus stop at Remera. I left my bag while I sat and waited and – since this was a new bus stop for me - waited until the friendly Sotra staff came to get me. Of course, when the bus did arrive it was full. With some minor adjusting of some boxes at the back, we managed to get a seat for me and then with some more maneouvering, which one might consider magic, we fit in my 50 lbs suitcase in the stair well. Each time someone wanted to get off, though, the poor man sitting in front of my had to lift it up. I arrived and collapsed on my bed for another nap. I woke to a storm and a leaky window and river on my floor. Sigh. I guess I’ll have to use that duct tape I brought to fix it up. Christine and her friend Elise came for a visit that night and we went for beer and brochettes. The next morning we had a leisurely toast, peanut butter and fruit salad breakfast while we waited for the rain to clear so the girls could go back home.

I’m now thinking back and wondering if I ever left? How did I slip back into life here so easily? I realized that it has become part of who I am. The fabric of me. Like they say, it’s just like riding a bike. A motorbike, that is.

Yes, I did bring my camera to Canada....

2010-05-07T01:50:00.000-07:00

...I just didn't use it very often.

Standing infront of my parents house and infront of a MacEachern tradition - to fly the flag of your guests. Some how my parents got their hands on a Rwandan flag. Something I could even do in Rwanda!

Perhaps this was East Side Mario's attempt to, after eating their fabulous and authentic Italian food, remind us that we were in Canada and not Rome. Too bad their food was crap.

Lunch on 17th. God how I missed the food at home! (Above photo excluded)

The Long Good-bye

2010-05-07T01:49:00.000-07:00

I’m sitting here, in Kibungo, listening to the rain pound on my roof, trying to remember last week. It feels like months ago. It really is a world away. I’m typing in a Word document because my modem isn’t working and district internet is totally unreliable. Sometimes great….sometimes not working at all.

My flight was rescheduled until May 1^st so I had two weeks to kill in Calgary. There are worse places to be but after about a week of everyone I know being at school and only being able to watch so many Gossip Girls in a row, I was starting to get a bit bored. So Monday I volunteered at CBC with the Calgary Reads book sale. (Have I mentioned that this is my favourite time of year???) My job involved….sorting books into categories. Pretty straight forward but I was constantly getting distracted. “Oooooh look at this book….This one is soooo good…..oooooh look at this one. …..I wonder what its about?” I was scheduled to help on Tuesday as well but arrive and there was nothing to do. The sorting was done. Thursday I got to see AMP who I haven’t seen in years and she had just arrived in Calgary from Toronto. “Thanks Volcano for letting me meet an old friend!” Friday I enjoyed a great lunch at Mercado with my dad and brother and then made my way to the arena to wait in line for the book sale. I arrived at 3:15 (it didn’t start unil 4pm) and planted myself in the quickly growing line. Some of the book swap girls – and Shory, who we are trying to convince to join book swap – met me a few minutes later and we were there and ready to build our libraries for a fraction of the price. We were so prepared. Some of the girls were CBC Calgary Reads book sale virgins. But thankfully, I had emailed them a preparation list to help them be successful. It went a little something like this:

1. Bring a Twoonie for the entry donation. Using a $5 bill is acceptable as change will be easy but a $20 is not practical as the time wasted getting you change is time that could be used to search for books)

2. Bring your own bag/box/case for books. Personally, I use a stylish Swiss basket with a padded handle. This pays off when I'm carrying my basket on my arm and the weight of all the books leaves marks on my arm.

3. Bring cash. Give yourself an allowance and limit yourself. For me, it's like a kid in a candy store or Helena Guergis. I just go crazy!!

4. Go directly to the Best Sellers table. Get what you want. THEN check the other tables for the same books. They are sometimes put on different tables as well and you can get the same book for cheaper. If you find the same book, return the higher priced one to the Best Sellers table for someone else to find.

5. Feel free to give your opinion. If someone is fondling a book that you have read, feel free to tell them how good it is. You can do this also even if the book is crap. Because if they take one that you've already read, they will leave one that maybe you want.

6. Work as a team. Working together to get the books you want is more efficient. You may have to give a title AND description of the spine to make searching easier. Going at this alone will lead not only to frustration but you may end up looking at 1996 biographies of Mulroney or Michael Jordan instead of what you really need.

And work as a team, we did! We had our bags and baskets loaded to the brim and then stepped to the side to pare down the pile, so that we could go in for more. Aimey was charged with spending $40 that her students raised for the libraries here (I have converted the rest into American money to bring to Rwanda). At the end of all of it we had piles of books by everyone from Marian Keyes to Gabriel Garcia Marquez and a pile of books for the libraries here.

Saturday….well, Saturday I packed and at 7:20, boarded a plane bound for London. The sky was free of ash cloud and Rwanda – and its nice weather – was waiting.

A few thoughts since I have some time on my hands

2010-04-23T06:42:00.001-07:00

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. - Mark Twain

So I found this quote the other day and was thinking about it when I was at book swap last night (thank you, Eyjafjallajokul, for enabling me to attend). It was great and, of course, made me miss living here. Great books, great girls, great wine/margaritas. The Rwandan book swap I started is good too but we have to substitute the wine and margaritas for Fanta and melange......... Anyway, I was there, sitting infront of the large pile of books dreaming about the day when I can read anything I want and any book is just a short jaunt away at a Chapters and someone asked me about Rwanda and said the standard "Good for you for doing it and taking a risk" or along those lines. I have to say that those words were so helpful to me before I left because, while the outside Anna was cool, calm and collected (Oh yeah, spiders and malaria. Ha ha! Can't wait....), the inside Anna was freaking out about making sure I had enough pairs of socks in my suitcase and money in my bank account. They were helpful before I left and gave me so much support. Now, I think Well, if I can do this, ANYONE can do this! And I was telling the girls about the flight out. The calm cool and collected person sad down in 23A (Window seat) on her way to London, looked out on the tarmac and said, out loud, "What am I doing???" I swear the my heart rate and sweat glands went into over drive and I realized (maybe too late) that I was moving to Africa for a year. I freaked out. I would say that I put myself out of my comfort zone and sailed away from my safe harbour. But I had friends and family as my life raft and their support made it possible. It is the best thing I could have done. In twenty years when my pension is a little bit lower than my friends, I won't think about the few dollars that might give me a nice latte. I'll try to remember how to say coffee in Kinyarwanda. A few years ago, I promised myself that I didn't want to live a life where I began a sentence with "I wish I would have...."

Maybe getting out of your comfort zone isn't flying to Rwanda. Maybe it's reading a new type of book or trying a new food or going to the gym and trying the free weights (okay, that's me. It scares me to try free weights. Too intimidating....). Whatever it is, if you're thinking of taking a leap and sailing away from your safe harbour, remember that you have life jackets and life rafts. Besides bed bugs, what could go wrong?

Explore. Dream. Discover.

Today in the Globe and Mail

2010-04-21T10:13:00.000-07:00

Canada apologizes for role in Rwandan genocide

Anna's Suitcase goes to....NOWHERE!!!

2010-04-20T07:07:00.000-07:00

And here I wait....

I woke up early yesterday to check the status of my flight to London. It was cancelled. Now, I was half expecting it but thought that, by some miracle, it would be flying. So, I began to unpack my half-packed suitcase. Nte kibazo (I never spell that correctly). So, I began the long wait on the phone with Air Canada where - after 45 minutes - the woman said "I hope you're sitting when I tell you this." May 1st!!!! That was the earliest flight out of here and that was just to London. She managed to also get me on a flight to Kigali but a later one as my original one was full. Great. Okay. Only waited an hour and a half for all of that. Whoo hoo. Except then she called me back to inform me that because I originally bought two tickets (instead of one ticket all the way through), I'd have to book my London-Nairobi-Kigali flight on my own. Sigh. Two hours later it was settled. I'd leave May 1st. Okay...no big deal. Just will have to adjust some timelines for workshops I'd scheduled before I left. There is nothing I can do about it. And I can get to the CBC Reads Book Sale which happens to be one of my favourite times of year. Silver lining, right?

And now I'm listening to the radio and checking the Air Canada website and wouldn't you know it? The flight to London is on time. I missed it BY A DAY!!!! (Secretly I wouldn't be sad if it, too, was cancelled......okay, well not really. I'm sure many people just want to get home.) From all the stories I've heard, I feel lucky. I'm at home, with my boxes of clothes out of storage, I have electricity and friends and family and bagels. Plus I can continue putting television series onto my new, fancy external hard drive. (Which, by the way, is one thing every volunteer should do before they leave for a placement).

And so, it will be another 10 days before I can share with you adventurous stories of flying maggots, water shortages, motorcycle rides, goat brochettes or the sheer comedy of living in a place where you try, but rarely succeed, to speak the local language.

***WANT TO HELP A RWANDAN LIBRARY?

If you can make your way to the CBC Booksale to get yourself a few good paperbacks (Can I recommend Pillars of the Earth or anything by David Sedaris?) then why not buy a book or two for the library in Rwanda? A few dollars for a good quality child's book and then a few more to mail it to me in Kibungo, and you can help with this project. Please contact me for details.

Kiss my ash, Iceland

2010-04-16T11:05:00.000-07:00

Two years ago I travelled to Iceland and found that it was a little piece of heaven alone in the north Atlantic. It's a beautiful country and easy to travel around. I worked in the north part of the country for two weeks and travelled along the southern coast for a week. It is my favourite place on earth. It is home to Europe's first democracy and has a 99% literacy rate. The scenery is stunning. And now? Since I've been there the economy has collapsed, McDonald's pulled out and now its volcanoes are causing havoc in the skies. I'm supposed to be heading back to Rwanda on Monday and, while I'm holding out hope that the airports will re-open, I've also read that the last time this little volcano underneath the Eyjafjallajokall glacier erupted was two hundred years ago and it lasted for 18 months. Hmmmm........

Here are a few pictures from my visit and from the roads that are now washed away:

One of the glaciers near the volcano. It's either Eyjafjallajokull or Myrdalsjokull....I ALWAYS mix those two up! (prior to eruption...obviously)

Popular camping spot near the volcano

A dormant volcano in north eastern Iceland called Grabrok.

Toto, I don't think we're in Kibungo anymore.

2010-04-12T12:19:00.000-07:00

Dorothy's clue that she wasn't in Kansas were the little people and all that colour. My clue I'm not in Kibungo....the SNOW!

My small (suitable for carry-on) suitcase is unpacked and will likely remain so. No, I’m not staying in Canada but I need to travel back to Rwanda with a big one, what with all the Sidekicks and everything. It’s surprising to me how easily I have become accustomed to life back in Canada. I can’t decide if it’s because I’m just visiting and haven’t actually had to work while here or if sliding back into life was just that easy. More likely its what another volunteer friend of mine said – you use one part of your brain for Canada and another for Rwanda. So, as I sit here for a quick recap, remember that I have 7 days left of snow before I destined for the land of banana trees and geckos.

I arrived in a haze that lasted for a few days and made my way into my school to say hello and give a short presentation for some students who raised money for the library project. Being in the school was surreal and I’d forgotten completely how to talk to students. I was visiting one class and someone hit the light switch by accident. The classroom went dark and my first thought was “Uh oh. There goes the electricity….” I had a chance on Wednesday to get together with a bunch of friends for drinks at a sports bar with a t.v the size of my house. Instead of the entire town gathered around a 20inch t.v. to watch a soccer match, it was televisions everywhere and sensory overload. Thursday was hot tub and Cesar’s at Ang’s but Easter came and went and the traditional family dinner – which includes, always, my brother and I fighting over hidden Easter eggs, was postponed so that my parents could get a head start on their vacation. Instead, I spent Easter with Amanda and Aimey, a few bottles of wine and the card game Wizard. Coincidently, I spent the next day with a hangover.

Easter Sunday Aimey and I went geocaching, which is essentially finding a hiding cache from coordinates. Sounds easy if you have a fancy GPS but our first one was a “micro” cache and we didn’t find it. The second was much more successful and we left Easter mini-eggs as a treat. Geocaching is new to me but apparently the whole world has been doing it for years. It's a great idea and I'm already wondering how to use this when I'm teaching next year. Great to teach kids about coordinates. (Follow the link above for more info). I’ve also had a chance to get out to the mountains to enjoy Banff like a tourist. And I felt it….I was FREEZING. It snowed and we still decided to hike up Sulfur mountain. I had just bought trekking poles – which is to save my knees when we hike Kili this summer – and I’ve realized that I will NEVER hike without them again. They look hard core, which I definitely am not, but my knees whispered “thank you” when I was finished.

Today I’m enjoying the snow and, unlike most Calgarians, am not pissed off that it’s the 12^th of April and STILL snowing. I’ve been enjoying swimming any day that I can – and NOT at risk for catching Bilharzia. I’ve been enjoying the CBC and hearing the news as it happens. I’ve been enjoying Starbucks and the ability to get food whenever I want it as well as showers that don’t take an hour to prepare. I’m also enjoying anonymity of not standing out like a novelty every time I walk down the street. BUT I am missing a few things: I’m missing the taste of avocados. Yes, you can buy them here – in the WINTER – but they have no flavour. I miss bananas and pineapples and Rwandan coffee. I miss the wind whistling over my motorcycle helmet as I wind through the valleys of the Eastern province. I miss getting up close and personal with my fellow Rwandans when I take the bus. I miss busy chores that make me tired and fall asleep as soon as I hit the pillow. I miss being able to say “Nte kibazo” when something goes wrong and I miss the slow pace of life. So, besides realizing that I have an awful lot of friends who’s names begin with the letter A, I’m realizing that Jeremy was right. You are where you are. Enjoy it.

Ah....this is the life!

Look at the view.

"In winter - travel not recommended."

"In spring - use caution. Upper trail may be snow covered or icy."

Only a few more steps to Africa!

Hidden cache

There it is! (And yes, that IS a Tim Horton's coffee in my hand.)

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

2010-03-28T06:26:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-25T04:54:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-24T07:37:00.000-07:00

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