Volunteer in the Mist

Making bricks for the school

Volunteer in the Mist 

Greetings from beautiful rainy Zaza. It is so easy to get seasonally disoriented here.  Sixteen months gone and here we are, May already. (OK OK, it's June now.  That's how long it takes me to get this out) It's well into the rainy season but with none of that familiar euphoric springtime sense of cyclical rebirth and new life that makes it arguably my favourite  time year of in B.C. ( Apart from summer, fall and winter) The garden is growing like mad though and the avocados are raining down like delicious green cannonballs out in the front yard.  If you're alert you can usually beat the local kids to them. I remain guardedly optimistic that  before the year is out I will have successfully grown a pineapple.  In the meantime, they're abundant and affordable and everywhere you go you see men pushing bicycles laden with what must be over 100 kilos of them bundled together, headed for market.  Hard hard work!

We had the better part of April off between terms and also because it is a time set aside for memorials and commemoration of the genocide.  On the surface it can almost seem things go on as usual but everywhere there are poignant reminders of the depth of trauma still underlying and strongly affecting life here.   
It  was indescribably wonderful having Daphne visit for the whole month.  She hadn't been here a day before attending a traditional Rwandan wedding, getting a sunburn, blitzing around Kigali on motorcycle taxis,  and enjoying her first Primus at  a party.  We spent some time here in the village where she was warmly welcomed at school and in the homes of several Rwandan friends, mini-adventures in their own right. She was a faithful and thoughtful chronicler of her visit and I would recommend you read her blog if you're interested in the details. (http://daphodild.blogspot.ca/)   Besides travelling here and there in Rwanda and a memorable visit to the gorillas we went up to Uganda for a week or so.  I won't even try to describe the whole time but in a word, it was delightful.  I realized how long it has been since I've laughed helplessly until I cried and could barely breathe.  There were a few choice moments when the absolute absurdity of our circumstances just put us both completely over the edge.  She is the perfect traveling companion.

Jen Kamashaba last January, walls going up

We spent Easter in Uganda with my friend Jen Kamashaba and a houseful of friends and relatives out in the countryside near Mbarara.  She is the remarkable woman I have mentioned in previous blogs…an extraordinarily committed woman who is in the process of building a community school on the land beside her home.  When I stopped in last January the walls of the first building, consisting of three rooms,  were about halfway up and the mud bricks were being made on site.  Now, although the floors are still dirt and the walls plain unplastered brick, two of the rooms are being used, one for a pre-primary and the other for grade one.  We arrived early in the morning and watched as the students, many of them orphans, went through their morning ritual of songs, chants and thorough fingernail and behind-the-ears inspection. 

The teachers have done a great job of making and displaying all sorts of visual aids and activity centres (something our Rwandan primary teachers could learn a thing or two from).  The community is coming forward with materials and labor to build a good fence and provide other help as and how it is able.  Plans are in the works to continue building more classrooms. This is a very poor rural area with many children being raised by grandmothers  and there is enormous appreciation of and support 
for this little school.
**Sooooo.....It's a long, long way downhill from the school to the nearest water source and it has to be carried up in jerrycans.  If there was a storage tank they could collect rainwater from the roof.  I would like to try to raise enough money to build one.   The quotes for materials and labor are $1580 for a 20,000 litre and $2600 for a 50,000 litre tank.  Naturally, the larger one would be the one to aim for, but that will be a choice left to the universe.  If anyone is interested, the best way I know of to send money here is by Western Union, although it does cost according to the amount sent.  So, there it is..just casting my line into the water and hoping for some nibbles. And all of us former upper Fraser valley types remember what it's like to pack our water, eh?  (Please feel free to share this with anyone you think might be interested.) 


A few weeks later…this thing is getting pretty stale on my desktop so if I can get some pictures together it'll get posted today.  Since starting to write this, weeks ago, it has transitioned to the dry season with its accompanying joys…dust instead of mud and water off more often than on.   

Also, it's a time of fond farewells to many people who have become good friends as their placements end and they scatter around the planet.  Before long it'll be my turn but in the meantime there's plenty of work to do. 
So, Murabeho for now. Hope this find everyone well and all of your gardens growing. 

Better Late than Never!

ONE YEAR DONE, ONE TO GO:

THE BACK-TO-SCHOOL EDITION

Greetings and a belated HAPPY NEW YEAR to everyone! 

Looking back over this past year I am amazed at what an extraordinarily interesting one it has been. The challenges of the job and the location continue but at the same time so do the delightful things that make being here always fresh and never dull.  The time is passing very quickly.

Our new school year started in early January, and after a few hiccups caused by abruptly mandated timetable requirements (it is all done entirely by hand without benefit of software) we are pretty much up and running.  I am now teaching in my resource centre, which I have  set up as much as possible like a model classroom.  In contrast to the rest of the school it has lots of stuff like maps, charts, and assorted topic specific visual aids on the walls, a small library, puzzles, games, etc..  These things most of us take completely for granted are conspicuously absent from the general learning environment in most schools here. 

Having learned a great deal last year we, the TTC volunteers at the 11 teacher training colleges,  got together for a week last November for a collaborative re-write of the curriculum, which we hope now more adequately reflects our students'  needs and adapts better to the realities they face.  We're also doing workshops with our colleagues and with the primary school teachers in whose classes our students do their practice lessons in order to familiarize them with what, for most of them, is an entirely different way of teaching. 

At the one year mark we have said fond farewells to a few fellow volunteers from our intake last January whose postings have ended, while some others have extended theirs.   Meanwhile, new ones arrive.  I want to put in a word here to say that CUSO and VSO are encountering recruiting problems as it seems fewer people are coming forward to offer their time and skills.  It is being put down in part to the global financial situation, but whatever the reason, and despite it,  I would urge anyone who is thinking about taking the plunge to seriously consider doing it.  End of commercial.

 I met a young man one day a few weeks ago as I walked home from the market who is now my kinyarwanda tutor.  He, Felix, like many of his peers, is earnestly pursuing higher education on the weekends while searching for a job.  He rides his bicycle to Kibungo and back every weekend, which must be at least 40 km each way over unpaved hill and dale.  He's a gifted, natural teacher and I keep assuring him it certainly won't be his fault if I don't learn to speak this diabolical language.

Last week we met at daybreak and rode our bikes up and down over back roads to a large town, Rwamagana, where we got some work done on the bikes at an open air bike repair place.  Bikes are the donkeys of Rwanda, by the way. They are used to transport everything: furniture, lumber, pineapples, building materials, huge bags of charcoal, you name it.   At one point we crossed Lake Mugesera in a wooden boat loaded with pineapples, bikes and people.  It was an all day excursion, hotter than stink but totally fun.  Along the way the derailleur fell completely off his bike and we thought we might have to walk the rest of the way, but true to form  we went no more than about 50 meters up the road and there was a guy with a toolbox, sitting with his mates under a tree, who cheerfully re-attached the derailleur.  It never ceases to amaze me how things are kept going here. 

Apart from school and some awesomely good times on the weekends with friends in Kigali the hands down highlight of the year, though it had some stiff competition from wonderful trips to Tanzania and Uganda earlier in the year, was a fantastic seven week backpacking trip I took to Ethiopia in November and December, during our school holidays.  (have you noticed, we have a lot of holidays?)  I have put off writing this blog because every time I try to think how to describe it adequately without writing volumes I get completely bewildered.  So, here's the Cole's notes version.

Highlights:

-a brief but very enjoyable time with my birder friends Denis and Stella who were on their way home to Australia after their year in Rwanda. Everything I know about African birds  (and that's not much) I owe to them. 

-five days on horseback trekking through the mountains in the southeast, through field and forest, often above treeline, staying in tents or huts.  The  pastoralist population lives on scattered isolated homesteads without road access or electricity, and during the day you can hear them calling to each other across the valleys as they herd their goats and sheep. Horses, donkeys and feet are the only means of transport.   At one mountainside homestead the mother of my guide served fresh milk  as assorted small siblings shyly peeked around her and a family of black and white colobus monkeys frolicked in a nearby tree.  I wanted to stay there forever!

-hitched a ride on a transport truck to the far southwestern corner where the Hamer and other tribes live pretty much as they have since ever. 

-Visited the Zege peninsula and stayed in a home in the forest surrounded by wild coffee and accessible only by boat or footpath.  The mother of my Ethiopian companion roasted coffee over her charcoal fire and served us some of her very refreshing home-distilled moonshine. I could live there!  Walked to a couple of ancient Orthodox churches and monasteries that are decorated from top to bottom inside with paintings and are uniquely Ethiopian.  

-Spent two days on a small ferry up Lake Tana where I met another solo woman traveler.   We self-organized a 5 day hike in the Simien Mts. where we saw an Ethiopian wolf and a Walia Ibex, both rare and beautiful animals.  It was SO cold there that there was ice on the tent every morning.  The landscape  is breathtaking, sometimes literally as we were up over 4000 meters looking way, way down.  There were large groups of Gelada baboons, tiny villages with houses made of stone and wood, tough mountain people on horseback.

-hitched another ride in an Isuzu transport truck over the most terrifying but at the same time spectacularly beautiful road to Axum in the north and after a few days wandering among the stelae fields and the camels took a plane (broke my land only rule this once as 45 minutes on a plane vs. three days on various buses was temptation too hard to resist) to Lalibela.  The rock hewn churches, which are still in use, are incredible and mysterious.  I spent days among them, passing through weird stone tunnels and soaking up the ambiance of a place that has got so much spiritual history.

-back to Addis for a quiet Christmas at a creaky old lady of a hotel, the Queen Taitu, then a short middle of the night flight to Nairobi, a restful night spent dozing in a chair at the bus station beside a window full of shrapnel holes from a recent grenade attack,  and a long bus ride across Kenya to Mbarara in Uganda where my Ugandan "sister" Jen Kamashaba is building a school in her village.  True to form, there was (yet another) bride giveaway and wedding to attend. 

So, all in all a fabulously varied and enjoyable experience. If I don't post this soon it is going to expire, if it hasn't already. 

Wish I could post photos but it's tricky as internet is so slow and it takes ages to upload them.   If anyone has some advice re re-sizing I could give it a try.  Using iPhoto. 

Daphne has been here for a week already and today we're heading off to Musanze and the gorillas on Monday.   More later.

EXCELLENT ADVENTURE

LAKE SAKE, MUGESERA DISTRICT

BOYS WITH MUSHROOMS AND WATER FROM THE LAKE

EUPHRASIE

EUPHRASIE'S HOUSE

TWO KINDS OF KIDS

Yesterday was a memorable day.  My student, Jean Claude,  invited me to his village to visit his mother.  It was Saturday and exams are finished so he was free to go, once he got written permission to leave the school for the day.  We met at 7a.m. and hung around under the jacarandas waiting - until noon! - for a matatu (shared minibus) to pass by going our way.  Have I mentioned that transport here is a bit random and patience is required when trying to go anywhere?
We traveled westward on a very bumpy but also very scenic road, past tiny villages and lush valleys of rice paddies, to the small town of Sake.  There we hopped on bicycle taxis and rattled downhill for several kilometres (with me imploring "bohoro bohoro" - slower please!) to the lake, also called Sake.  A small wooden boat was just leaving so we hopped in and were soon on the other shore.  The further we got from the town the greater the sensation caused by the presence of a mzungu (me). 
From the boat landing we walked about a half hour on a quiet pathway through banana plantations and past mud brick or wattle and daub houses.  No one there has electricity and they all carry their water from the lake.  Jean Claude was greeted by everyone and news that there was a white lady with him traveled fast.  Soon people were peeking out from behind banana fronds, from front doors, or just openly standing by the roadside staring.  We were met at one point by Jean Claude's brother-in-law Isaiah who accompanied us to J.C.'s mom's house, a small, tidy  three-room building with tiny glass-less windows, built of mud brick with a corrugated iron roof.    
There we were greeted very warmly by JC's mom, Euphrasie. She is a widow who makes her living cultivating her land with ground nuts, beans and bananas.  She also has a couple of goats, one with a lovely newborn kid.  The mud floor of the tiny house and yard outside had been swept spotless and she had set out her best plastic bowls for us.  She even provided forks, as everyone knows mzungus need forks.  Gradually the yard filled up with curious kids and a few adults, and several relatives came in and sat on a mat on the floor.   Euphrasie served us first lovely ripe bananas and then two large fish, which we demolished... without benefit of forks. This was obviously a special treat and she clearly went out of her way to get the fish and prepare them in our honour. 
The head man of the village appeared and an explanation for my presence was given….standard operating procedure.  He gave a brief speech welcoming me and then left. 
After lunch Euphrasie gave me a tour of her property.  Behind the relatively new house where we had eaten is an older one.  Its small rooms are dark and dingy, used mainly to store produce and tools.  It is typical of the houses around the countryside here. In one corner is a small hearth for cooking with wood or charcoal. 
Here's what I was thinking...
The impression conveyed by the media to the rest of the world seems mainly to focus on the progress of development in Rwanda which, though undeniable,  is mostly evident in and around Kigali.  Life in rural areas goes on pretty much as it always has and people there remain for the most part untouched by the affluence evident in the capital.  I go fairly often to Kigali and am always struck by the contrast of the two vastly different worlds that seem to exist between there and the villages.
Anyway... 
By mid afternoon the sky was darkening so we figured we'd best be on our way.  How can I describe it?  Isaiah, JC, Euphrasie and I walked through the village, Euphrasie holding my hand, followed by at least 30 kids.  This I expect will either raise the family's status in the village, or cause envy.  Probably both.  But there was a strong sense of genuine warmth and friendship among us. After fond farewells  we barely made it to the lakeside, still followed by most of the kids, before a magnificent thunderstorm and downpour.  After it passed and the boat was bailed we headed across, then walked as fast as we could up to Sake where we realized it was probably too late in the day to expect transport.  So, we started walking.  Eventually a pickup came along and we rode in the back to a point somewhat closer to Zaza, then started walking again, but were soon picked up by a big old Toyota ambulance with around 14 people stuffed in the back…only one, a young woman, seeming to be in actual need of an ambulance, though the dreadful road conditions made me wonder if we all wouldn't need medical attention before long.  We were dropped off,  walked the last couple of kilometres and got to Zaza just as darkness fell.  Thunk.  Just like that.  One minute it's day, next minute it's night.  

*JC is the student who is only continuing at school through the generosity of some of my friends in Canada.  There is no way his mother can afford his school fees and despite a lot of effort to get help from various quarters he has been unable to find a sponsor.  But, he is first in his class and was recently designated "assistant head boy".   What I experienced yesterday in his village was really for you, and needs to be shared with everyone who has contributed.  I feel incapable of fully conveying the sincerity, warmth  and depth of gratitude that was expressed yesterday but hope I've managed to give you a sense of it.   It was a deeply moving experience, as well as an awful lot of fun. 
And, by the way, he will be needing help with school fees in the coming school year which begins in January, in case anyone reading this would like to contribute.  Let me know.
The foregoing was written two weeks ago. At the moment I'm in Kigali working with the other ten volunteers who are posted at teacher training colleges.  (My roomie says I should definitely mention the lovely comfy beds at out guesthouse. We think they gave us the presidental suite by mistake) We're working intensively all of this week to re-write a guide for our jobs which we hope will help ensure the sustainability of our work when our placements end. 
Next week I'll be on a bus to Nairobi  (24 hours of traveling pleasure :-) and then on a flight to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia for a few weeks' walkabout….actually, more like busabout.  Think I'll check out some of the ancient rock hewn churches and maybe do some hiking here and there, and then possibly head to Uganda for Christmas with friends from my visit there in August.  So, cheerio and all the best to friends far and near.  I think of you all often and would be delighted to see you in Rwanda.  Murabeho for now

THE RAINY SEASON EDITION

Greetings and happy Eid.  To honour the Muslim community for its decent behavior during the genocide it is a national holiday here.  Where national holidays are concerned though we always have to await official confirmation by radio on the morning of the day in question, so you never really know in advance whether you are going to work or not.  But, it's official; no school today. 

Someday when I am writing my memoir I think I might start it with the words (and apologies to Isak Dinesen) "I had a fridge in Africa."   It may not be big, but it's small, and it's cold inside.  Got it from a departing volunteer and just wanted to share my happiness with you all.  The days of warm beer are behind me. Wooohooo!

We're now into the third school term and the beginning of another rainy season.  (is a pattern emerging where I only post blogs at the changing of the seasons?)  I lobbied successfully to be relieved of English teaching this term on the grounds that it is not what I am here to do and was detracting from the hours needed for resource development,  teaching learner centred methods and observing my students doing their practice teaching in the local primary schools. The resource centre is taking shape, and just last week my principal agreed to move it to a larger and in every way better room.  Already we've outgrown the original space, which was starting to look more like a storeroom than anything.  We now have tables and chairs and expect cupboards and shelves any day. Students are eager to make "teaching aids" although many still haven't got the hang of using them to promote active learning.  It's a major departure from anything they have experienced in their own schooling, and it is proving quite challenging to convince them to try out new methods.  Often, they are being advised and evaluated by teachers who themselves are unfamiliar with the range of possibilities that active learning presents, so they are reluctant to try anything "unusual".

August was a good month.  We had a three week interval between terms, so after visiting friends in Rwanda and seeing one off back to the U.S. I took myself away to southwestern Uganda to see what I could see.  I had only the vaguest of plans, thinking mainly to look for someplace to go for day hikes and just wander around that part of the country.  On my first morning there, in the town of Kasese,  I stopped to ask  a woman in a shop for directions to the market.  Within minutes we had established that we share a name, a birthday and a profession.  Being a typically warm and hospitable Ugandan she insisted that I  come right away and visit the primary school for orphans that she has started, then pick up my stuff from the dodgy hotel I was staying in and come stay with her and assorted orphans large and small in her tiny two rooms behind the shop. 
Jen is just one example of the many extraordinary, strong women who are pretty much the glue holding things together here.  She is quite concerned about the sustainability of her school and the futures of the orphans if or when  she is not able to be there.  She has a small farm and a piece of land nearby where she would like to re-locate the school.  It is several hours travel from Kasese, near Mbarara.  The farm already supplies most of the food for the orphans but it has to be transported a long way.  The house on the farm has been designed to accommodate a lot of kids.  She envisions four classrooms to start. All she needs now is some money and some volunteers who know a bit about construction. Any takers?

Her school in Kasese is called Rock Primary School because the entire schoolyard is full of boulders, most with motivational sayings painted on them.  They have a little poultry and egg business at the school, run by students, and so I felt right at home among the kids and chickens. The classrooms are full of imaginatively made teaching materials and it's a happy, well-run place.

 Within a couple of days I had met what felt like half the town, including Jen's circle of amazing women friends who are all active in various community and collective initiatives.  I just kind of got absorbed into the community and was included in all sorts of everyday and also not so everyday events.  Like two bride giving away celebrations.  And those who know me at all will be surprised to hear that I even went to mass.  Twice.  Or, was it three times?  It's a blur.  Also spent a weekend in the foothills of the Rwenzoris on a small farm a stone's throw from the Congo. 
Returning to Kasese from there I got tired of waiting for a bus, after a 30 minute motorcycle ride to the main road, so opted for a shared taxi,  a Toyota corolla station wagon containing, it turned out when everyone finally got out, fourteen people plus assorted belongings.  The front seat had two bucket seats and the driver motioned for me to sit in the driver's seat.  Did he want me to drive?  No. Turns out we shared the seat, he drove, I tried to stay out of his way,  and it's a good thing he was sort of a little guy.  The ridiculous thing is, you can have as many people as you can jam into the car in back, but the traffic police will only stop you if you have three people in front.  So, twice the driver abruptly yanked me down across his lap and ordered me to "rest here, there are police."  After we passed them he yanked me back upright again. 

In there somewhere I took a few days to go by myself up to the Fort Portal  area and stayed at a lovely campground at  Nkuruba, a crater lake.  There were monkeys everywhere; red colobus and black and white colobus mostly, living in the  surrounding rain forest.  Best of all was one very recently born b&w colobus, still pure white, tentatively venturing away from it's mama and looking a little wobbly when jumping from branch to branch.  It was a delightful place to swim and hike and just watch the monkeys. 
After saying goodbye to my Ugandan friends I went to spend a few quiet days on an island in Lake Bunyoni.  I've wanted to go there ever since seeing it from afar a few years ago.  Dugout canoes are the preferred means of transport, the bird life is glorious, and the hills surrounding the lake are terraced and green.  It was positively idyllic.  The place where I stayed runs entirely on solar power so no noise, there's a little library, and a comfy place to sit, drink tea, and read away the afternoon while it's raining.  The company was excellent as well, a diverse and interesting mix of backpacker types and volunteers of various stripes.  
Altogether, a most excellent adventure.

Zaza is lovely these days.  Getting greener by the day and the huge jacarandas are blooming.  The road beneath them is a lavender carpet of fallen blossoms.  The sound track of life here is kids chanting their lessons, singing in the fields or the schools, cows, chickens, bicycle bells, kids tearing down the road when school lets out, birds...

*A note to the generous friends who provided school fees for my student, Jean Claude.  He informed me the other day that he came first in his class last term.  He was too modest to mention it, but I was told also that he has been chosen as assistant "head boy"….and to think that he might not have been able to continue without your help.  Cheers to you!  Murakoze cyane.

Hope this finds everyone doing well. 
J

JUNE/JULY 2011

Here we are, mid-June and also about halfway through term two at school.  I sometimes have to stop and adjust my reality settings lately.  The seasonal rhythms here do not correspond to the ones I have been living by for so many years. Whereas June = hustle to get the garden planted and school's almost out for the summer back in B.C., here we're heading into the dry season, harvesting is underway, and we're still shoulder to the wheel at school. 

At virtually every smallholding families are threshing large masses of beans and sorghum which have been laid out to dry  on the swept ground in front of the little mud brick or wattle and daub houses.  When they've dried to a crisp they are beaten with a long stick or paddle to break up the pods and seed heads. (I have always wondered what the heck sorghum is.  Turns out, it grows on a plant almost identical to corn, and the seed head is at the top.)  Then the bean vines are gathered up and the beans are left to continue drying before being put up for storage.  There's also corn, peanuts and cassava, all needed to sustain families until the next planting season which starts in September.  Many people here are almost entirely dependent on this seasonal plant/harvest cycle. 

At school I have a busy teaching schedule, English and methodology, and the "Resource Center" is still a work in progress, or lack thereof, depending on how you look at it.  UNICEF has provided generously for furnishing  and upgrading the room but I am still waiting for administrative paperwork to be completed and stamped (oh, yes, stamps are BIG here.  Sorry now that I didn't bring my happy face one :-).  Meanwhile, I'm making and gathering up what I can and we've received some books and a whole load of lovely teaching materials from a small Ugandan company…rice sacks with maps, diagrams, alphabets, games, stuff made from materials easily found here.  They will be available for loan or for copying to teachers and student teachers. Now that our new computer lab is up and running perhaps the ball will start to roll. Yes, we are finally connected.  Still mainly accessible only to teachers, but it's a start.  Last week there was major hoopla with the Minister of Education and other dignitaries and a delegation from Burkina Faso, all in a day-long downpour…so much for the dry season. 

I've got my bicycle at last, having ridden it to Zaza from Kibungo where it was dropped off  a couple of weeks ago. Must be old white women on bikes are a rare sight in the villages, based on the open-mouthed stares I got as I pedalled serenely along.   Yesterday I took a ride to see if I could find the place where I've been told a person with a boat will take people across the lake.  I'd never have found it by myself, but along the way I was joined by two friendly boys on bikes who showed me the way, down a series of pathways to the lakeshore where sure enough there was the boat.   There's another volunteer living on the other side of the lake and I've got this notion that I might cycle there some weekend for a visit.  To go by a main road would be very roundabout, not to mention terrifying.  In three hours of cycling, I saw not a single car and only one motorcycle the entire time.  Just lots of kids, chickens, goats, cows, bananas and one really cute little piglet.  I had to stop occasionally to allow myself to be greeted and interrogated, in the friendliest possible way, by villagers.  On Sunday afternoons in the villages a lot of folks kick back and get into the banana beer, become quite mellow and socialize under the nearest shady tree.  

My own garden is still producing and I've harvested my own beans…a proud moment for this short-season northern gardener!  And okra - another first. Word is out that I eat strange things like lettuce, without cooking it, and one of my co-workers has expressed interest in trying some, after being reassured that it won't harm him.  VSO...Bringing cutting edge culinary diversity to the developing world!
Last week I bought a fish from a woman going door to door, thinking of my generally protein poor diet.  It was a fairly hideous fish, with a huge head and whiskers, kind of a cross between a snake and a  catfish.  But I tried to see beyond that and appreciate its inner beauty. On the way home I received lots of cooking tips from passers-by.  So, I cooked it but, sorry to say, it had a kind of bottom of the lake flavour.  Think I'll stick to beans and rice.

This draft has been ripening on my desktop now for a couple of weeks and needs to be sent without further delay.  First though….
Sad news from home. My dear kitty Amina, who was being well loved and enjoying a pampered life with Daphne in Edmonton, died the other day after becoming sick a day before Daphne's birthday and on the eve of their move to Vancouver.  They did what they could, but she's now in kitty heaven.  She was a first rate cat and we will miss her sweet presence in our lives.

This first weekend in July is a long one in Rwanda too, celebrating Liberation and Independence.  First, there was a party at the American embassy, carnival style with hot dogs and balloons for the kiddies and games like throw the bean bag through the hole in the board or break the balloon with the dart.  I did particularly well at the no skill required "fish pond". My Dutch friend, who has made it his mission to attend as many foreign embassy events as possible, was there so we played games and won lots of shiny trinkets, mainly in red, white and blue. 

Next morning five of us, two of my closest volunteer friends and their visitors, set out for Akagera National Park in a rented 4x4.  The park is located in the east, not far from Zaza as the crow flies, on the Tanzanian border, and while not on a par with the Serengeti it is absolutely wonderful.  In some ways it's better despite not having quite the same range of diversity of species.  We meandered happily all day and saw only a handful of homo sapiens.  We saw warthogs, zebras, giraffes, loads of different kinds of ungulates (they could use a lion or two) an elephant, water buffalo, storks and fish eagles, hippos and an astonishingly huge crocodile.  There were also a zillion biting flies which we spent a fair amount of time swatting, but it was all part of the fun.  If anyone comes to visit me here (and please DO!!) a visit to Akagera will be on the agenda for sure.

The end. Till next time.  Hope everyone is doing well, wherever you all are.
Greetings, peace and warmest wishes to all.

P.S. Yes, web wizard that I am, I just for the first time located and read a bunch of comments from various and sundry.  Thanks one and all!  And especially a huge thanks to those of you who got together to support my student.  I don't know how to adequately convey it.  Just know you have done a really good thing. Will try to add a photo of him and his mum, who made a special and difficult trip to the school just to say thanks.  So, I'm passing it on to you all.   She gave me a kilo of ground nuts which she grew, so if you get over here double quick there should still be some to share. 





 




  

OK, SO I'M AN IDIOT

(In case you didn't already know.)  You get to read the original and then the slightly tweaked and edited version of the latest posting because I published them both. They now stand as further proof that some people should not be allowed near a laptop.  So, enjoy.

Whose idea was this, anyway? 

WHERE DID THE TIME GO?

All right all right.  I know It's been ages since the last posting…sorry folks.  Just checked and it has been over two months.  No, I have not been eaten by tsetse flies or gone walkabout in the hot sun.  Just busy and …well, that's a lame excuse and I don't expect anyone to buy it. I was hoping t put some photos on before sending this but have been defeated by technology.  I'll figure it out one of these days but have already burned through too much airtime. 

 The first school term, which ended i early April,  passed very quickly, and seemed like a pretty steady climb up the learning curve most of the time. Getting used to the differences in the education system and starting to form relationships with my students, co-workers and villagers has been interesting, sometimes surprising, but never without unexpected pleasures and discoveries.
This job is brand new so the five of us in different TTCs (Teacher Training Colleges) around the country are more or less putting it together as we go, observing what is needed, collaborating and figuring out the best way to go about it.  We are meant to be supporting child-centred learning with our student teachers and establishing teacher resource centres where teaching materials can be accessed or created from locally available materials.  For that we are funded by UNICEF, which is a partner with VSO in this project.  Large class sizes and a lack of basic teaching materials present huge challenges.

 English was introduced here as the language of instruction (replacing French) a couple of years ago. I try to imagine if in Canada everyone were  told one day that from now on all teaching must  be done in Finnish or Mandarin or whatever.  Everyone is trying their best but it is a struggle for both teachers and students.

I've got a nice veg garden going at my house, after first removing heaps of non-biodegradable junk from the yard.  It's amazing how fast things grow, and in the winter, already!!  It's the rainy season now, when everyone plants, so I just stuck some seeds in too and have all sorts of stuff coming along nicely.  It's great to have leafy greens, which are not available in the markets.  A Rwandan friend has persuaded me that I must follow Rwandan custom and get someone to help me out around the house so I've hired her sister to come twice a week.  She always arrives with armloads of ornamental plants  which she has planted everywhere and that has improved the yard immensely.  I don't know what she'll do when all the available space is planted.  I might have to fight her for my veg plots.  She's also good at finding a kid out on the road to climb up and chuck down a few avocados now and then, which we share.

I do all my cooking outdoors on a one-burner kerosene stove, and have a little charcoal stove for weekends when there's a bit more time.
The charcoal stove is small, round, with a ceramic lined firebox, big enough for one pot.  I love it. It's great for making chappatis and roasting ground nuts (my name is jen and I am a roasted ground nutaholic.  Send help :o) Though I still occasionally daydream about it I've pretty much abandoned the idea of getting a fridge.  And an oven is just a fond memory.

It has been fun getting to know the area around Zaza better and recently I had an interesting day with my  friend Kate, a  Peace Corps volunteer who also lives here.  We walked to a nearby village where there is a busy  Saturday market.  The walk itself was lovely in the cool of the morning, through banana groves and past little subsistence farmsteads, and at the market we did some  veg shopping and cruised the extensive used clothing section for wardrobe upgrades. After some hard bargaining  each of us ended up with a new skirt.  Well, new enough.  Our main objective, however,  was to find a pottery in the area which we'd heard about  but didn't know exactly where to find it.  We took bicycle taxis (highly recommended! all the fun of bike riding without any of the hard work) to yet another village and then down a succession of increasingly smaller pathways through pineapple fields, until we eventually arrived at the spot, overlooking Lake Mugesera.  It is a simple, beautiful compound of buildings set in among shady trees, one full of weaver bird nests, and multicoloured flowering bushes.  It is a religious order of sorts, devoted to agriculture, pottery making and the manufacture of a brew made from their pineapples. We were welcomed very warmly and shown around by a couple of the brothers. The pottery itself is in a big shed containing one wheel and a huge wood-fired kiln, which I would love to see in action sometime.  After a walk through the fields and nearby village with one of the brothers  we said our farewells and they handed each of us  a warm-from-the-sun freshly  picked pineapple.  Does it get any better? On the way back to the road we accumulated an entourage of about 20 little kids who waited under a big tree with us (did I mention, it was hotter than stink!) until we eventually found a couple of bikes to take us home.  I recall that pleasant day every morning when I drink  coffee from my new favourite mug from there.

 April is the month during which the genocide is commemorated in Rwanda.  It is also a long interval between school terms and two friends and I chose to leave the country to let Rwanda do what it does during this somber time.  Tanzania! Wonderful!!  We flew to Moshi/Arusha and once there did all our moving about on buses, except for one memorable truck ride.  We spent a couple of days wandering about around Lushoto in the Usambara Mts.  but the Indian Ocean beckoned, so we headed east and found a lovely beach near Pangani which we had virtually to ourselves.  Except for some monkeys.  I suspect one of them may now be reading The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo because it disappeared very mysteriously one early morning from the beach. The water was deliciously warm and we swam ourselves silly.  Then we split up and two of us went on a camping safari to Serengeti and Ngorongoro Crater.  We saw lots and lots of beautiful critters and indescribably beautiful landscapes. Our other friend met up with students and friends from a previous stay in Tz. We all returned together to Kigali for a week of VSO training with the rest of our January intake and several newly arrived  vols.  It was good to see everyone again and compare notes about our experiences so far.  There were also several birthdays to be celebrated with big jolly dinners out in the city.  Good to get socially saturated and protein replenished before returning to work and the quiet of village life.

Yesterday I was informed by one of my co-workers that I was having a party today (Easter) At first I thought it was just a language thing and he was actually inviting me to a party. But, no.  Having just returned from three weeks away and having misplaced my magic carpet to the market I found myself  a little short of party supplies  but fired up the charcoal stove and made a big stack of chappatis, salsa and a large container of popcorn.  We will meet at the canteen in the village because I only have two chairs.  Besides, they have cold Primus (local beer) there.
**Party update:  Success.  We had a nice time. My guests were quite impressed that I  can do things like make popcorn all by myself.  (!?)  I think maybe some stereotypes might fall during my stay here.  My favourite thing about the canteen is that the school's cows make their leisurely way back to their  cowshed via the canteen grounds, where they graze as they go, all around the little open-sided round huts where people sit.

**Here is something that I am just putting out there in case anyone reading this feels moved to help.  There is an exceptional student in one of my classes who is about to have to abandon his studies for lack of financial support.  His mother is a poor subsistence farmer who is not able to earn enough for his school fees, which for the year would total around $250 U.S.  While his circumstances are by no means unique I believe he is outstanding and hope he can stay in school.  That's all…just handing it over to the universe….

One of my senior students invited me to his home last weekend, so on Sunday he collected me and we walked there together.  It was May 1, Labor Day here, so as well as being Sunday it was also a holiday.  I met and was made to feel very welcome by his mom, both of his grannies, some aunties and scads of kids, some of them his siblings.  His mom is a farmer and she prepared a delicious meal of bananas and beans for us, accompanied by her homemade banana beer…a girl after my own heart.  Banana beer, served fresh and warm, is an acquired taste which some never acquire.  It's made by mixing mashed up bananas and roasted sorghum and then leaving it all in a warm place to do its thing for a few days.  Easy peasey!  Bananas….I read recently in the Guardian that the average person in these parts eats at least three times their body weight in bananas annually. 

Yesterday on the bus to market in Kibungo I sat and had a great conversation with a very articulate twelve year old boy  who was going to see his family and get a prescription filled at the hospital.  The woman beside me had two little boys with her so one quite happily sat on my lap and played with my bracelets. Then, as I got on the bus to come back here in the afternoon a little kid took one look at me and completely freaked out. Like, came totally unglued.  His mom covered his head with her shawl and everyone on the bus kind of looked embarrassed.  Africa….land of contrasts.

 I hope my fiends reading this know that I miss you all very much and think of you often.  Please stay in touch and come for a visit if you can.

Til next time...




WHERE DID THE TIME GO?

All right all right.  I know It's been ages since the last posting…sorry folks.  Just checked and it has been over two months.  No, I have not been eaten by tsetse flies or gone walkabout in the hot sun.  Just busy and …well, that's a lame excuse and I don't expect anyone to buy it.

 The first school term passed very quickly, and seemed like a pretty steady climb up the learning curve most of the time. Getting used to the differences in the education system and starting to form relationships with my students, co-workers and villagers has been interesting, sometimes surprising, but never without unexpected pleasures and discoveries. 
This job is brand new so the five of us in different TTCs (Teacher Training Colleges) around the country are more or less putting it together as we go, observing what is needed, collaborating and figuring out the best way to go about it.  We are meant to be supporting child-centred learning with our student teachers and establishing teacher resource centres where teaching materials can be accessed or created from locally available materials.  For that we are funded by UNICEF, which is a partner with VSO in this project.  Large class sizes and a lack of basic teaching materials present huge challenges. 

 English was only introduced here as the language of instruction (replacing French) a couple of years ago. I try to imagine if in Canada everyone were  told one day that from now on all teaching must  be done in Finnish or Mandarin or whatever.  Everyone is trying their best but it is a struggle for both teachers and students. 

I've got a nice veg garden going at my house, after first removing heaps of non-biodegradable junk from the yard.  It's amazing how fast things grow, and in the winter, already!!  It's the rainy season now, when everyone plants, so I just stuck some seeds in too and have all sorts of stuff coming along nicely.  It's great to have leafy greens, which are not available in the markets.  A Rwandan friend has persuaded me that I must follow Rwandan custom and get someone to help me out around the house so I've hired her sister to come twice a week.  She always arrives with armloads of ornamental plants  which she has planted everywhere and improved the yard immensely.  I don't know what she'll do when all the available space is planted.  I might have to fight her for my veg plots.  She's also good at finding a kid out on the road to climb up and chuck down a few avocados now and then, which we share.

I do all my cooking outdoors on a one-burner kerosene stove, and have a little charcoal stove for weekends when there's a bit more time.
The charcoal stove is small, round, with a ceramic lined firebox, big enough for one pot.  I love it. It's great for making chappatis and roasting ground nuts (my name is jen and I am a roasted ground nutaholic) 
Though I still occasionally daydream about it I've pretty much abandoned the idea of getting a fridge.  And an oven is just a fond memory.

It has been fun getting to know the area around Zaza better and recently I had an interesting day with my  friend Kate, a  Peace Corps volunteer who also lives here.  We walked to a nearby village where there is a busy  Saturday market.  The walk itself was lovely in the cool of the morning, through banana groves and past little subsistence farmsteads, and at the market we did some  veg shopping and cruised the extensive used clothing section for wardrobe upgrades. After some hard bargaining  each of us ended up with a new skirt.  Well, new enough.  Our main objective, however,  was to find a pottery in the area which we'd heard about  but didn't know exactly where to find it.  We took bicycle taxis (highly recommended! all the fun of bike riding without any of the hard work) to yet another village and then down a succession of increasingly smaller pathways through pineapple fields, until we eventually arrived at the spot, overlooking Lake Mugesera.  It is a simple, beautiful compound of buildings set in among shady trees, one full of weaver bird nests, and multicoloured flowering bushes.  It is a religious order of sorts, devoted to agriculture, pottery making and the manufacture of a brew made from their pineapples. We were welcomed very warmly and shown around by a couple of the brothers. The pottery itself is in a big shed containing one wheel and a huge wood-fired kiln, which I would love to see in action sometime.  After a walk through the fields and nearby village with one of the brothers  we said our farewells and they handed each of us  a warm-from-the-sun freshly  picked pineapple.  Does it get any better? On the way back to the road we accumulated an entourage of about 20 little kids who waited under a big tree with us (did I mention, it was hotter than stink!) until we eventually found a couple of bikes to take us home.  I recall that pleasant day every morning when I drink  coffee from my new favourite mug from there. 

 April is the month during which the genocide is commemorated in Rwanda.  It is also a long interval between school terms and many of us chose to leave the country to let Rwanda do what it does during this somber time.   I went with two friends to Tanzania.  Wonderful!!  We flew to Moshi/Arusha and once there did all our moving about on buses, except for one memorable truck ride.  We spent a couple of days wandering about around Lushoto in the Usambara Mts.  but the Indian Ocean beckoned, so we headed east and found a lovely beach near Pangani which we had virtually to ourselves.  Except for some monkeys.  I suspect one of them may now be reading The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo because it disappeared very mysteriously one early morning from the beach. The water was deliciously warm and we swam ourselves silly.  Then we split up and two of us went on a camping safari to Serengeti and Ngorongoro Crater.  Lots and lots of beautiful critters and indescribably beautiful landscapes. Our other friend met up with students and friends from a previous stay in Tz. We all returned together to Kigali for a week of tVSO raining with the rest of our January intake and several newly arrived  vols.  It was good to see everyone again and compare notes about our experiences so far.  There were also several birthdays to be celebrated with big jolly dinners out.  Good to get socially saturated before returning to work and the quiet of village life.

Yesterday I was informed by one of my co-workers that I was having a party today (Easter) At first I thought it was just a language thing and he was actually inviting me to a party. But, no.  Having just returned from three weeks away and having misplaced my magic carpet to the market I found myself  a little short of party supplies   but fired up the charcoal stove and made a big stack of chappatis, salsa and a large container of popcorn.  We will meet at the canteen in the village because I only have two chairs.  Besides, they have cold Primus (local beer) there.
**Party update:  Success.  We had a nice time. My guests were quite impressed that I  can do things like make popcorn all by myself.  (!?)  I think maybe some stereotypes might fall during my stay here.  My favourite thing about the canteen is that the school's cows make their leisurely way back to the school cowshed via the canteen grounds, where they graze as they go, all around the little open-sided round huts where people sit . 

Here is something that I am just putting out there in case anyone reading this feels moved to help.  There is an exceptional student in one of my classes who is about to have to abandon his studies for lack of financial support.  His mother is a poor subsistence farmer who is not able to earn enough for his school fees, which for the year would total around $250 U.S.  While his circumstances are by no means unique I believe he is outstanding and hope he can stay in school.  That's all…just handing it over to the universe….

One of my senior students invited me to his home last weekend, so on Sunday he collected me and we walked there together.  It was May 1, Labor Day here, so as well as being Sunday it was also a holiday.  I met and was made to feel very welcome by his mom, both of his grannies, some aunties and scads of kids, some of them his siblings.  His mom is a farmer, like most of the women in the village,  and she prepared a delicious meal of bananas and beans for us, accompanied by her homemade banana beer…a girl after my own heart.  Banana beer, served fresh and warm, is an acquired taste which some never acquire.  It's made by mixing mashed up bananas and roasted sorghum and then leaving it all in a warm place to do its thing for a few days.  Easy peasey!  Bananas….Where would we be without them? I read recently in the Guardian that the average person in these parts eats at least three times their body weight in bananas annually.  


 To my fiends reading this, I hope you know know that I miss you all very much and think of you often.  Please stay in touch and come for a visit if you can.  Sending love to everyone.

From under the mosquito net
XOXO!

Til next time...