Many of you have gotten an email from me, but in case you have not, I'll paste it here, if you are interested in helping out our friend, Solomon, whose home was destroyed in a storm 2 weeks ago:
Rwanda is doing this "beautification" project where they are basically tearing down the homes that don't fit their standards, i.e. the homes of poor people. When you drive through the countryside, which we've done a few times so far, you see homes with a spray-painted red "X" on the front (it's eerily reminiscent of the flooded homes in NOLA) that will be destroyed. In order for him to rebuild his home to the standards that would guarantee that it won't be knocked down, it will cost him 500,000RwF, or $900. His goal is to add to it a store in the front that he and his mother can work at- his mother, who is over 50, is working on a farm somewhere doing very intense manual labor, and also has 3 other children under the age of 11 that she cares for. The total cost to make this project the best it can be is 750,000RwF, or $1,300. Profits of the store would also go towards buying he and his family a new cow which, as I've previously mentioned, is a sign of wealth and power in Rwanda.
The easiest and most cost effective way that Mike and I could figure out to get the donations to Solomon is through PayPal. We set up an account, and transfers from other PayPal accounts are free, so while it may be a little more time-consuming it will not cost any fees if you set up an account as well and transfer money that way. Sign up on paypal.com and then search for my email address: steph.samaha@gmail.com What this involves is signing up and adding a bank account or credit card, and it is completely secure- we won't see any of your bank information, and you won't see any of ours. We will then send the money via Western Union and pick it up here, which we can then give to Solomon.
If you are unable or unwilling to set up an account, email me the amount that you would like to donate, and I can send an email to you from PayPal requesting that amount. However, I have a limit of 12 or so for each month, so please do this sparingly.
Again, please only do this if you are financially able, I don't want to guilt anyone into anything! If you know someone else who may be interested in helping, please share this information as well. We really appreciate your help, as does Solomon.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Faces of Akagera!
Here are a few pictures of our trip to Akagera National Park on the eastern most border of Rwanda (near Tanzania). We went here during our first weekend in Rwanda. We camped in the middle of the park, kind of scary.
That is how far away the elephant was...
Then he got closer...You can see why they call him Mutware, he is HUGE!
Then he was REAL close. If Olivier, our driver, did not step on the gas, Mutware would have definitely hit our car!!!
BALD EAGLE!
So perty...
UGLY!
Weird Eye.
Up close dragon fly
Steph thinks he looks like the old footage of Bigfoot.
Do you see the bird on the Zebra's back?
That is how far away the elephant was...
Then he got closer...You can see why they call him Mutware, he is HUGE!
Then he was REAL close. If Olivier, our driver, did not step on the gas, Mutware would have definitely hit our car!!!
BALD EAGLE!
So perty...
UGLY!
Weird Eye.
Up close dragon fly
Steph thinks he looks like the old footage of Bigfoot.
Do you see the bird on the Zebra's back?
Ripped off in Gisenyi
We spent the weekend in Gisenyi, which is the western-most part of the country near the border of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. We went there to visit 4 NAR Youth Clubs to get a feel for what they do, what they need, and to gauge their interest in our Human Rights Curriculum, and it was definitely the inspiration we needed to continue our work. Children here (as in most developing countries I'm sure) are so much more excited to learn than children in the US, and were really eager to get a book to learn about human rights that they could share with their community. The coolest thing that they do is a province-wide soccer tournament and I'm soo excited to go see some of the games in August. They incorporate the prevention of genocide ideology in these soccer games, to make them educational and more cooperative; anything that combines soccer and learning is good in my book.
We thought being Muzungus made us a spectacle in our neighborhood, but it was nothing compared to these rural areas. At the first school, we encountered a little child (not sure if it was a girl or a boy.. we think it was a girl... nevertheless, one of the cutest children ever) who followed us to all our meetings and said she wanted us to take her home with us because she liked how we looked. We then visited with 2 other clubs at one school that is situated adjacent to a UN Refugee camp (from the Democratic Republic of Congo) and we had quite the experience there... I'll let Mike elaborate on that one. When we left we had a crowd of 100 children (no exaggeration) who followed us out and laughed as we tried to speak Kinyarwanda with them. Apparently they don't hear foreign accents too often.
Which brings me to the next difficulty. When we were visiting with these children we wanted to have discussions with them about what they thought of human rights, etc etc. They were at the age where they know both French and a little bit of English, so I would ask them questions in both languages, only to be met with blank stares. The facilitator would then repeat, verbatim, what I had said, and would receive many eager responses. Apparently they had trouble understanding my accent, which made me feel pretty useless. I'm finally able to speak French fairly well, but no one can understand it in my American accent!
When we left the clubs, we took a bus to the center of Gisenyi to find our hotel. Upon getting off, we were engulfed in a group of motorcycle-taxi drivers (common transport around the country) asking us where we were going. Despite our map in the tourist guide, we had nooo clue how to get there and enlisted the help of 2 of the moto drivers after negotiating the price. Our hotel was a Presbyterian-run hostel, so they first drove us to the Presbyterian church, then to the hostel. We got off, checked in, and asked the reception desk for a good restaurant, and he said there was one just off the main road behind the hostel, about 200 meters away. After walking less than 100 meters, to our right, we saw the bus station where we had gotten our motos... Apparently it was RIGHT THERE, and they ripped us off by driving us in a complete circle. We were quite humbled by our first stupid-tourist situation. Now we know better. It had to happen once so that we don't get too comfortable, I guess!
We thought being Muzungus made us a spectacle in our neighborhood, but it was nothing compared to these rural areas. At the first school, we encountered a little child (not sure if it was a girl or a boy.. we think it was a girl... nevertheless, one of the cutest children ever) who followed us to all our meetings and said she wanted us to take her home with us because she liked how we looked. We then visited with 2 other clubs at one school that is situated adjacent to a UN Refugee camp (from the Democratic Republic of Congo) and we had quite the experience there... I'll let Mike elaborate on that one. When we left we had a crowd of 100 children (no exaggeration) who followed us out and laughed as we tried to speak Kinyarwanda with them. Apparently they don't hear foreign accents too often.
Which brings me to the next difficulty. When we were visiting with these children we wanted to have discussions with them about what they thought of human rights, etc etc. They were at the age where they know both French and a little bit of English, so I would ask them questions in both languages, only to be met with blank stares. The facilitator would then repeat, verbatim, what I had said, and would receive many eager responses. Apparently they had trouble understanding my accent, which made me feel pretty useless. I'm finally able to speak French fairly well, but no one can understand it in my American accent!
When we left the clubs, we took a bus to the center of Gisenyi to find our hotel. Upon getting off, we were engulfed in a group of motorcycle-taxi drivers (common transport around the country) asking us where we were going. Despite our map in the tourist guide, we had nooo clue how to get there and enlisted the help of 2 of the moto drivers after negotiating the price. Our hotel was a Presbyterian-run hostel, so they first drove us to the Presbyterian church, then to the hostel. We got off, checked in, and asked the reception desk for a good restaurant, and he said there was one just off the main road behind the hostel, about 200 meters away. After walking less than 100 meters, to our right, we saw the bus station where we had gotten our motos... Apparently it was RIGHT THERE, and they ripped us off by driving us in a complete circle. We were quite humbled by our first stupid-tourist situation. Now we know better. It had to happen once so that we don't get too comfortable, I guess!
Gorilla Pics!!!
So everyone keeps asking for pics of the gorillas. Well i would have put them up a while ago and i would have put more up but THE INTERNET HERE IS SOOO SLOW!!! So anyway here are a few and you will have to wait till we get home to see the rest.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Mutware- again
Remember our friend Mutware, the elephant who tried to kill us?
On our way back from the gorillas the other day, we told our guide about our trip to Akegera and mentioned being charged by Mutware. He told us that before 1994, he was a peaceful elephant, never aggressive. During the genocide, however, when chaos was rampant throughout the country, people would shoot at each other (and sometimes the animals) in the park, and the animals witnessed a lot of violence. Many of the animals fled- it's why there are no longer any lions or other predators in Akagera. Mutware was scared by the shooting and felt threatened, and now he associates people with violence and trying to kill him. It's so sad to think how people's actions affect the environment around them, and how even animals can be scarred for life... I guess elephants really don't forget.
On our way back from the gorillas the other day, we told our guide about our trip to Akegera and mentioned being charged by Mutware. He told us that before 1994, he was a peaceful elephant, never aggressive. During the genocide, however, when chaos was rampant throughout the country, people would shoot at each other (and sometimes the animals) in the park, and the animals witnessed a lot of violence. Many of the animals fled- it's why there are no longer any lions or other predators in Akagera. Mutware was scared by the shooting and felt threatened, and now he associates people with violence and trying to kill him. It's so sad to think how people's actions affect the environment around them, and how even animals can be scarred for life... I guess elephants really don't forget.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Wedding!
On Saturday we got to attend the introduction wedding ceremony for Dr. Joseph (NAR board member who set up our internships). Quite an experience.
This was the part of the wedding where the bride and groom each pick a representative (sometimes the father) to negotiate the dowry price and decide if the groom is worthy enough to marry the bride. It's all symbolic- the bride and the groom already know they are going to be married, and it is a sort of entertainment for those in the audience who can understand what's going on. We couldn't understand a word. The entire thing was in Kinyarwanda, and about half of the audience was American, so at least we were not the only ones out of the loop. There was no food, although periodically (2-3 times in 6 hours) they brought Cokes and Fantas out to people. Near the end of the ceremony, the bride makes her appearance (I'd be pissed if I had to sit in a house while everyone else is enjoying my wedding and talking about me!) and "meets" the groom under a sort of straw hut. The cows are given (she was worth 2 cows!) after some scary men yell songs really loudly, possibly blessing the cows? Or more arguing? I'm not really sure. Then there was celebration- traditional Intore dancers and drums and singing. Amazing. Pretty much worth the wait.
Following the wedding we all went back to Dr. Joseph's house, where we were told there would be food. Sarah and I enjoyed a glass of wine each, only to learn there was no food coming. Boxed wine doesn't sit well on a stomach full only of Coke. The nice part, though, was that Joseph's "negotiator" gave all of us Americans a play-by-play recap of the entire process we had just witnessed, which is quite interesting in its entirety. Definitely not for me, as I don't believe in the whole "dowry" and "giving the bride away" thing, but good to learn about another culture. However, I think it's the last Rwandan wedding we'll be attending for awhile.
This was the part of the wedding where the bride and groom each pick a representative (sometimes the father) to negotiate the dowry price and decide if the groom is worthy enough to marry the bride. It's all symbolic- the bride and the groom already know they are going to be married, and it is a sort of entertainment for those in the audience who can understand what's going on. We couldn't understand a word. The entire thing was in Kinyarwanda, and about half of the audience was American, so at least we were not the only ones out of the loop. There was no food, although periodically (2-3 times in 6 hours) they brought Cokes and Fantas out to people. Near the end of the ceremony, the bride makes her appearance (I'd be pissed if I had to sit in a house while everyone else is enjoying my wedding and talking about me!) and "meets" the groom under a sort of straw hut. The cows are given (she was worth 2 cows!) after some scary men yell songs really loudly, possibly blessing the cows? Or more arguing? I'm not really sure. Then there was celebration- traditional Intore dancers and drums and singing. Amazing. Pretty much worth the wait.
Following the wedding we all went back to Dr. Joseph's house, where we were told there would be food. Sarah and I enjoyed a glass of wine each, only to learn there was no food coming. Boxed wine doesn't sit well on a stomach full only of Coke. The nice part, though, was that Joseph's "negotiator" gave all of us Americans a play-by-play recap of the entire process we had just witnessed, which is quite interesting in its entirety. Definitely not for me, as I don't believe in the whole "dowry" and "giving the bride away" thing, but good to learn about another culture. However, I think it's the last Rwandan wedding we'll be attending for awhile.
"Peace"-full weekend
So on Friday our office was absolutely INFESTED with cockroaches... needless to say, we left early. Standing on top of chairs and swatting them with paper bags is not how we wanted to spend our day. Before we left, though, our co-worker Julius noticed us being all uneasy and made an interesting comment. He said, "You know, during the genocide, they called my people 'cockroaches' when they killed us, so now we say these bugs are just our brothers and sisters. You shouldn't be scared of my family!" It made us chuckle but looking back was very upsetting to think about his family being targeted and killed, and knowing that he was one of those that they called "cockroach."
We went home, then from there decided to go downtown. As we were walking to the minibus, I heard lots of honking, which is tyipcal of cab drivers asking if we need a ride, but then Mike turned around and walked towards the car. I looked up and saw Olivier, our driver to Akagera park our first weekend here, and a really cool guy. He said he was headed downtown and would give us a ride, and even drove us to the bus station and explained to us where to go to buy a bus ticket for Monday, when we were going to see the gorillas. So helpful, and we definitely want to hang out with him soon- he's a great guy.
After grabbing lunch at the "Muzungu Mall" as we call it, we started to head back to Nyamirambo to meet Julius, who was arranging for me and another intern, Sarah (also from New York/Connecticut!) to get traditional African dresses for Dr. Joseph's wedding the following day. However, we were running late and all of the minibuses that drove by were jam-packed, so we were freaking out because we were at least half an hour's walk from where we needed to be. All of a sudden, a car with two older men pulled over and said they were going to Nyamirambo and asked us if we needed a ride. In most countries, it would probably be stupid to get in; however, our tourist book even mentioned that people frequently offer rides to strangers, occassionally asking for a cab fare and sometimes completely for free. These men were talking to us and saying how Americans are always such great people ("politics aside," was his caveat, which made me laugh) and just making small talk. He also joked that I must be poor because my jeans had a large hole in them so he wasn't asking us for money, but that "la jeunesse te fait riche!" (youth makes you rich!) so I should enjoy that. With that, he dropped us off exactly where we needed to go and waved us off. So friendly, and we couldn't believe our luck!
Fast forward to Monday morning, when we go to the bus station that Olivier pointed out, but quickly were overwhelmed by a crowd of men. From behind us we hear "Mike! Mike!" so we look and see a man, Marcel, whom we had met earlier that week. He was on our street at that time and started talking to us in very good English, asking us about America and our work in Rwanda, showing us his card saying that he is a "Rwanda Culture and Language Tutor", and just generally having friendly conversation. He somehow was able to find us in downtown Kigali and pick us out of the crowd (not that it was hard.. we were the only Muzungus around) and asked us where we needed to go. We told him and he led us to the front desk, translated everything for us and got us our tickets. He then explained how he was a born-again Christian, did everything for Jesus, not to make money, and asked if there was anything else he could do to help us out. We took his card and said we'd be in touch, and meanwhile were flat out shocked by our repeated luck. The people here really are the friendliest than I've ever encountered anywhere in the world!
Mike's already blogged about our gorilla experience so I don't have much more to add to that, only that the ride up was amazing, with gorgeous views and Bob Marley playing the whole way up. The way back wasn't as fun when they decided to add one extra person to our row (there was only room for 4, but there were 5 adults and one child- not fun!) and while the roads weaving through the thousand hills provided beautiful scenery, it wasn't so good for my already-queasy stomach...
More to come soon :)
xoxo
We went home, then from there decided to go downtown. As we were walking to the minibus, I heard lots of honking, which is tyipcal of cab drivers asking if we need a ride, but then Mike turned around and walked towards the car. I looked up and saw Olivier, our driver to Akagera park our first weekend here, and a really cool guy. He said he was headed downtown and would give us a ride, and even drove us to the bus station and explained to us where to go to buy a bus ticket for Monday, when we were going to see the gorillas. So helpful, and we definitely want to hang out with him soon- he's a great guy.
After grabbing lunch at the "Muzungu Mall" as we call it, we started to head back to Nyamirambo to meet Julius, who was arranging for me and another intern, Sarah (also from New York/Connecticut!) to get traditional African dresses for Dr. Joseph's wedding the following day. However, we were running late and all of the minibuses that drove by were jam-packed, so we were freaking out because we were at least half an hour's walk from where we needed to be. All of a sudden, a car with two older men pulled over and said they were going to Nyamirambo and asked us if we needed a ride. In most countries, it would probably be stupid to get in; however, our tourist book even mentioned that people frequently offer rides to strangers, occassionally asking for a cab fare and sometimes completely for free. These men were talking to us and saying how Americans are always such great people ("politics aside," was his caveat, which made me laugh) and just making small talk. He also joked that I must be poor because my jeans had a large hole in them so he wasn't asking us for money, but that "la jeunesse te fait riche!" (youth makes you rich!) so I should enjoy that. With that, he dropped us off exactly where we needed to go and waved us off. So friendly, and we couldn't believe our luck!
Fast forward to Monday morning, when we go to the bus station that Olivier pointed out, but quickly were overwhelmed by a crowd of men. From behind us we hear "Mike! Mike!" so we look and see a man, Marcel, whom we had met earlier that week. He was on our street at that time and started talking to us in very good English, asking us about America and our work in Rwanda, showing us his card saying that he is a "Rwanda Culture and Language Tutor", and just generally having friendly conversation. He somehow was able to find us in downtown Kigali and pick us out of the crowd (not that it was hard.. we were the only Muzungus around) and asked us where we needed to go. We told him and he led us to the front desk, translated everything for us and got us our tickets. He then explained how he was a born-again Christian, did everything for Jesus, not to make money, and asked if there was anything else he could do to help us out. We took his card and said we'd be in touch, and meanwhile were flat out shocked by our repeated luck. The people here really are the friendliest than I've ever encountered anywhere in the world!
Mike's already blogged about our gorilla experience so I don't have much more to add to that, only that the ride up was amazing, with gorgeous views and Bob Marley playing the whole way up. The way back wasn't as fun when they decided to add one extra person to our row (there was only room for 4, but there were 5 adults and one child- not fun!) and while the roads weaving through the thousand hills provided beautiful scenery, it wasn't so good for my already-queasy stomach...
More to come soon :)
xoxo
GORILLAS!!!
So many of you know that we went to see the gorillas yesterday. Well you may not know that we went yesterday but you knew we were going. Well we did and it was AMAZING!!!
We had to get up really early 5:00am and meet for an orientation and meet our group and figure out which group of gorillas we were seeing. We were told we were going to see the Amahoro group which means Peace group. We thought that was extremely fitting considering we are here in Rwanda working for a peace building organization, during the hour and a half bus ride to Ruhengeri (the town near the gorillas) the bus driver was blasting Bob Marley and well Steph is a big hippie who loves Peace and peace signs and white doves and all that stuff.
So we met our guide, met the other people in our group, got our orientation and got in our trucks to drive to the mountain. About an hour drive on some of the most BUMPY!!! roads ever we finally got to the base of the mountain. We were told it would take us about an hour and a half hike up the mountain to get to where the gorillas were. Now that we got our walking sticks our armed guards (2 men from the army armed with AK-47s for our protection, if an animal attacks us they shoot in the air to scare it off), our guide and a porter, we set off for the gorillas.
The hike was quite fun and GORGEOUS! So green and amazing on the mountain. We were literally walking through the forest on the side of this mountain. In some spots the porter in the front had to hack us a new path with a machete or we just walked through brush.
Before we started walking, Olivier, our guide, warned us about thorns and "stinging nettles". He said that the stinging nettle is not poisonous but will burn if you touch it. He said we could try and test it out but he didn't suggest it. Well with ripstop pants, and a long sleeve jacket or in steph's case bunches of layers and a long sleeve shirt, we thought we would be OK. HA we were VERY wrong. There were some parts that we walked through that the stinging was unavoidable. It went straight through our clothes and all you would hear is ooo oww, ouch, it burns from everyone in the group.
Well through all the burning, slipping and falling etc. we finally made it to the point where we had to ditch all our stuff and just take our cameras with us to go see the gorillas. During the orientation they told us we had to maintain a 7 meter distance from all the gorillas. Immediately we were all thinking damn that sucks, you can get closer to gorillas in the Bronx Zoo. The first gorilla we saw was about 7-10 meters away. And we could barely see him just a little bit of his back and head. It was so cool to see one finally but I kept thinking, I wonder if this is how far they will be from us the whole time, cuz that would suck.
Well we kept walking and a few minutes later, we saw a big gorilla about 10 feet away and looking right at us. She kept bending over and looked like she was eating something. All of a sudden she repositions and we see that she is holding a 2 week old baby gorilla in her arms. She was cleaning him and breastfeeding. She looked like a human mother cradling her baby. It was SOOOO Cute. The little baby was all fuzzy and his eyes were all squinty since he was so new he couldn't really open them fully yet. After a while of us staring at her and the baby she got bored and threw the baby on her back and walked away.
Then we saw two young gorillas about a few years old each playing. They looked like boys ruff housing back home. They were kicking and pushing each other, nibbling, giving noogies, one of them looked like he was being tickled because he was kind of laughing. Then they just started to roll around, doing somersaults down through the brush.
The guide told us to look somewhere else and there was the big silver back. 30 years old and HUGE. He is the dominant male of the group and we could definitely see why. Earlier the guide explained to us that with gorillas, only the dominant male gets to mate with the females. All the other males of the group, even if they are silver backs old and big, they can not mate until the dominant male dies or becomes too old. If they get impatient they can leave and start their own group. Sometimes if the dominant male is away, the females will cheat on him with the other males of the group. But they know they can't get caught.
So we are watching this big silver back and he is just sitting there chomping away at some celery like plant. All we could see at first was his big head. After a few minutes he stood up to get some more food and needless to say he was large. After a while, he got up and started to walk over towards us. We all got a little scared and were wondering what was going to happen. He slowly walked by us and walked into a different part of the bush. That was definitely a scary moment for everyone, we all wanted to move away from the gorilla but didn't want to startle it either. The guide started to grunt, just communicating to him that we were not a threat...or so he thinks that is what he is saying, who knows.
We walked to find some more and we came across a juvenile, about the size of a 3-4 year old human. SO CUTE. He was just eating a little bamboo/celery and watching us, probably wondering what we are. He got up and started to walk towards us a little and the guide started to grunt. Whenever he did that the kid gorilla would just look at him with bewildering eyes and then go about his business. While the baby isn't necessarily threatening, the guide didn't want him to come any closer to us because sometimes the mother or the big silver back will take it as we are trying to steal or hurt the baby and they will get VERY protective and VERY aggressive. Luckily that didn't happen because if it did, we probably wouldn't have made it out of there.
There are more stories of really cute gorillas but that will have to wait till we can talk in person and we can show you pics.
But for now here are some pictures to get you by...These are rough pictures that just came from our cameras. When I get home and have the ability to play with the pictures, touch them up a little in photoshop, I'll be sure to send out the good copies as well.
We had to get up really early 5:00am and meet for an orientation and meet our group and figure out which group of gorillas we were seeing. We were told we were going to see the Amahoro group which means Peace group. We thought that was extremely fitting considering we are here in Rwanda working for a peace building organization, during the hour and a half bus ride to Ruhengeri (the town near the gorillas) the bus driver was blasting Bob Marley and well Steph is a big hippie who loves Peace and peace signs and white doves and all that stuff.
So we met our guide, met the other people in our group, got our orientation and got in our trucks to drive to the mountain. About an hour drive on some of the most BUMPY!!! roads ever we finally got to the base of the mountain. We were told it would take us about an hour and a half hike up the mountain to get to where the gorillas were. Now that we got our walking sticks our armed guards (2 men from the army armed with AK-47s for our protection, if an animal attacks us they shoot in the air to scare it off), our guide and a porter, we set off for the gorillas.
The hike was quite fun and GORGEOUS! So green and amazing on the mountain. We were literally walking through the forest on the side of this mountain. In some spots the porter in the front had to hack us a new path with a machete or we just walked through brush.
Before we started walking, Olivier, our guide, warned us about thorns and "stinging nettles". He said that the stinging nettle is not poisonous but will burn if you touch it. He said we could try and test it out but he didn't suggest it. Well with ripstop pants, and a long sleeve jacket or in steph's case bunches of layers and a long sleeve shirt, we thought we would be OK. HA we were VERY wrong. There were some parts that we walked through that the stinging was unavoidable. It went straight through our clothes and all you would hear is ooo oww, ouch, it burns from everyone in the group.
Well through all the burning, slipping and falling etc. we finally made it to the point where we had to ditch all our stuff and just take our cameras with us to go see the gorillas. During the orientation they told us we had to maintain a 7 meter distance from all the gorillas. Immediately we were all thinking damn that sucks, you can get closer to gorillas in the Bronx Zoo. The first gorilla we saw was about 7-10 meters away. And we could barely see him just a little bit of his back and head. It was so cool to see one finally but I kept thinking, I wonder if this is how far they will be from us the whole time, cuz that would suck.
Well we kept walking and a few minutes later, we saw a big gorilla about 10 feet away and looking right at us. She kept bending over and looked like she was eating something. All of a sudden she repositions and we see that she is holding a 2 week old baby gorilla in her arms. She was cleaning him and breastfeeding. She looked like a human mother cradling her baby. It was SOOOO Cute. The little baby was all fuzzy and his eyes were all squinty since he was so new he couldn't really open them fully yet. After a while of us staring at her and the baby she got bored and threw the baby on her back and walked away.
Then we saw two young gorillas about a few years old each playing. They looked like boys ruff housing back home. They were kicking and pushing each other, nibbling, giving noogies, one of them looked like he was being tickled because he was kind of laughing. Then they just started to roll around, doing somersaults down through the brush.
The guide told us to look somewhere else and there was the big silver back. 30 years old and HUGE. He is the dominant male of the group and we could definitely see why. Earlier the guide explained to us that with gorillas, only the dominant male gets to mate with the females. All the other males of the group, even if they are silver backs old and big, they can not mate until the dominant male dies or becomes too old. If they get impatient they can leave and start their own group. Sometimes if the dominant male is away, the females will cheat on him with the other males of the group. But they know they can't get caught.
So we are watching this big silver back and he is just sitting there chomping away at some celery like plant. All we could see at first was his big head. After a few minutes he stood up to get some more food and needless to say he was large. After a while, he got up and started to walk over towards us. We all got a little scared and were wondering what was going to happen. He slowly walked by us and walked into a different part of the bush. That was definitely a scary moment for everyone, we all wanted to move away from the gorilla but didn't want to startle it either. The guide started to grunt, just communicating to him that we were not a threat...or so he thinks that is what he is saying, who knows.
We walked to find some more and we came across a juvenile, about the size of a 3-4 year old human. SO CUTE. He was just eating a little bamboo/celery and watching us, probably wondering what we are. He got up and started to walk towards us a little and the guide started to grunt. Whenever he did that the kid gorilla would just look at him with bewildering eyes and then go about his business. While the baby isn't necessarily threatening, the guide didn't want him to come any closer to us because sometimes the mother or the big silver back will take it as we are trying to steal or hurt the baby and they will get VERY protective and VERY aggressive. Luckily that didn't happen because if it did, we probably wouldn't have made it out of there.
There are more stories of really cute gorillas but that will have to wait till we can talk in person and we can show you pics.
But for now here are some pictures to get you by...These are rough pictures that just came from our cameras. When I get home and have the ability to play with the pictures, touch them up a little in photoshop, I'll be sure to send out the good copies as well.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Daily Routine
I guess I need to post since I haven’t in a while and Steph is taking all the glory. My mom suggested that I post something that details what we do on a day to day basis kind of like our daily schedule. Well it changes everyday obviously, but I’ll give you a sample.
7AM wake up alarm, if we are going to “shower” (in quotes because we really aren’t showering),
7AM and a few seconds – fish around for phone on the bookshelf near our bed, usually knocking it on the ground in the process, ::grumpy angry tired noise::, pick up phone and reset alarm for later time – 7:15ish if we really want to shower
(if we are not showering in the morning we usually set the alarm for 7:30 and snooze it till about 8ish)
7:15ish – get up to boil water to have a decently warm bathing experience (I didn’t do this for the first 4 times I bathed and was bathing with freezing cold water, not fun)
7:25ish – water is boiled, or at least hot, pour that water in with the rest of the water bucket and begin bathing
7:40ish – after a not so warm bathing experience (because it never really is “warm”) and not really feeling clean dry off and go get changed
7:45 – got changed now begin the search for essential items for the day (wallet, keys, phone, watch, pen, gum, laptop, laptop charger, power converter etc.)
7:47-7:50something – debate laying back in bed, don’t cuz I’ll probably regret it
7:50-8:10 – bum around, find things to eat, pack some snacks for the day, make sure we have a water, tie up our bags, get shoes on, Steph puts sun screen on etc. etc.
8:10 – walk out the door, lock the door, greet Jeanette in Kinyarwanda (trying to have new things to say to her instead of the same old stuff) – Usually a Mwaramotse (good morning), Muraho (hello), Amakuru (how are you?) etc. We are working on saying have a good day or see you later or something like that
8:15 – after our walk out of our little private road thing in our neighborhood, we cross a few streets hear a few “MUZUNGU, MUZUNGU” from the kids and adults (we wave at the kids, usually ignore the adults unless they talk to us then we’ll ask them how they are doing or just say hi) and we wait for our minibus
8:15ish – squeeze into a seat on the minibus, sometimes not so crowded sometimes feeling claustrophobic, comment on the American rap music that is blasting, and how the people probably have no clue what they are saying but listen to it anyway
8:20ish – say “Sigara” (we think it means to get off or something, its what you say to the guy who collects money on the minibus when you want them to stop, or you just knock loudly on the roof of the van). Get off the minibus pay the money collector guy, make sure he gives us the right change and walk to the fruit stand at the corner.
- look at the fruit the lady has, ask for a pineapple or bananas or both pay and leave
8:30 – walk to the office, checking out the people along the way, the women carrying crazy loads of fruit or what ever on their heads, girls, boys, men, women carrying jerry cans of water in hand or on head, women selling fruit, veggies etc. men selling shoes, belts w/e (all the while being stared at and talked about) - walk up to the gate for Never Again and walk in.
(we are not always at NAR at 8:30 usually more like 8:50-9:00 but we got here early today and so that’s the time schedule I’m using) – when we get in we walk around and look to see if there are any cockroaches or other bugs before we walk into our office and put our stuff down.
8:45 – Solomon (the “houseboy” – their term not mine, who works at NAR and cooks and cleans) comes in to say hi and we ask him if he can cut up our pineapple for us. We practice our Kinyarwanda with him. – he brings the pineapple back a little while later and we ENJOY IT!!!
9:00 – 9:30ish – get caught up on the news, e-mails, read who posted on the blog etc.
10:00 – Solomon comes in with a list of the things he wants to pick up at the market and prices, and tells us how much we owe him (he buys the stuff he cooks for lunch) usually about 200-250 Rwandan Francs each, about 50 cents cheapest lunch EVER!
Work work work, usually we are writing stuff for our Human Rights Curriculum/Guide/Manual/we don’t know what we are calling it – this entails writing new material, researching ideas, reading through books, Steph and I arguing, Steph correcting my grammar, arguing some more etc.
12:00 – Get hungry wonder when lunch is
12:30 – sometimes eat, if its not ready yet we are a lil more hungry
1:00 – Steph and I make the “TACO!!!” face from boy meets world back and forth to each other and complain about being so hungry, eventually we eat – usually it isn’t much past 1pm that we get to eat lunch sometimes it is, we have snacks like rolls and sometimes cookies or granola bars during the day to hold us over
2:00ish – lunch is over after a long drawn out discussion with Julius, Fredereicke and Wilma (I want to leave right after I’m done eating but Steph tells me I’m rude)
2-5ish – work on our stuff skype with people if we can e-mail some more people think about dinner, what we are gonna do at night, contemplate if we need to buy food or not and Leave NAR.
5:30-6 – get home, depends on if we walk or minibus it home and much later if we go to the city first. Jeanette lets us in the gate, we greet her in Kinyarwanda – unlock our door and go inside - Take off our bags, open the windows grab a snack etc.
6:30-7 – cook a gourmet meal on a one element stove
7:30 – done with dinner, clean up and boil water for tea – begin reading, or typing stuff on the computer, or playing cards, or talking, or think about a movie to watch
7:45 – 10:00 – entertain ourselves as mentioned above sometimes a little bit of everything
10:00 – teeth are brushed, pajamas are on, bed net is up, lights are off and we try to go to sleep.
10:05 – Steph is asleep
11-11:30 – Mike is still up trying to fall asleep but can’t (I fall asleep eventually but we wake up a lot throughout the night, we are still yet to have a “good nights sleep” here)
Then we start it all over again.
7AM wake up alarm, if we are going to “shower” (in quotes because we really aren’t showering),
7AM and a few seconds – fish around for phone on the bookshelf near our bed, usually knocking it on the ground in the process, ::grumpy angry tired noise::, pick up phone and reset alarm for later time – 7:15ish if we really want to shower
(if we are not showering in the morning we usually set the alarm for 7:30 and snooze it till about 8ish)
7:15ish – get up to boil water to have a decently warm bathing experience (I didn’t do this for the first 4 times I bathed and was bathing with freezing cold water, not fun)
7:25ish – water is boiled, or at least hot, pour that water in with the rest of the water bucket and begin bathing
7:40ish – after a not so warm bathing experience (because it never really is “warm”) and not really feeling clean dry off and go get changed
7:45 – got changed now begin the search for essential items for the day (wallet, keys, phone, watch, pen, gum, laptop, laptop charger, power converter etc.)
7:47-7:50something – debate laying back in bed, don’t cuz I’ll probably regret it
7:50-8:10 – bum around, find things to eat, pack some snacks for the day, make sure we have a water, tie up our bags, get shoes on, Steph puts sun screen on etc. etc.
8:10 – walk out the door, lock the door, greet Jeanette in Kinyarwanda (trying to have new things to say to her instead of the same old stuff) – Usually a Mwaramotse (good morning), Muraho (hello), Amakuru (how are you?) etc. We are working on saying have a good day or see you later or something like that
8:15 – after our walk out of our little private road thing in our neighborhood, we cross a few streets hear a few “MUZUNGU, MUZUNGU” from the kids and adults (we wave at the kids, usually ignore the adults unless they talk to us then we’ll ask them how they are doing or just say hi) and we wait for our minibus
8:15ish – squeeze into a seat on the minibus, sometimes not so crowded sometimes feeling claustrophobic, comment on the American rap music that is blasting, and how the people probably have no clue what they are saying but listen to it anyway
8:20ish – say “Sigara” (we think it means to get off or something, its what you say to the guy who collects money on the minibus when you want them to stop, or you just knock loudly on the roof of the van). Get off the minibus pay the money collector guy, make sure he gives us the right change and walk to the fruit stand at the corner.
- look at the fruit the lady has, ask for a pineapple or bananas or both pay and leave
8:30 – walk to the office, checking out the people along the way, the women carrying crazy loads of fruit or what ever on their heads, girls, boys, men, women carrying jerry cans of water in hand or on head, women selling fruit, veggies etc. men selling shoes, belts w/e (all the while being stared at and talked about) - walk up to the gate for Never Again and walk in.
(we are not always at NAR at 8:30 usually more like 8:50-9:00 but we got here early today and so that’s the time schedule I’m using) – when we get in we walk around and look to see if there are any cockroaches or other bugs before we walk into our office and put our stuff down.
8:45 – Solomon (the “houseboy” – their term not mine, who works at NAR and cooks and cleans) comes in to say hi and we ask him if he can cut up our pineapple for us. We practice our Kinyarwanda with him. – he brings the pineapple back a little while later and we ENJOY IT!!!
9:00 – 9:30ish – get caught up on the news, e-mails, read who posted on the blog etc.
10:00 – Solomon comes in with a list of the things he wants to pick up at the market and prices, and tells us how much we owe him (he buys the stuff he cooks for lunch) usually about 200-250 Rwandan Francs each, about 50 cents cheapest lunch EVER!
Work work work, usually we are writing stuff for our Human Rights Curriculum/Guide/Manual/we don’t know what we are calling it – this entails writing new material, researching ideas, reading through books, Steph and I arguing, Steph correcting my grammar, arguing some more etc.
12:00 – Get hungry wonder when lunch is
12:30 – sometimes eat, if its not ready yet we are a lil more hungry
1:00 – Steph and I make the “TACO!!!” face from boy meets world back and forth to each other and complain about being so hungry, eventually we eat – usually it isn’t much past 1pm that we get to eat lunch sometimes it is, we have snacks like rolls and sometimes cookies or granola bars during the day to hold us over
2:00ish – lunch is over after a long drawn out discussion with Julius, Fredereicke and Wilma (I want to leave right after I’m done eating but Steph tells me I’m rude)
2-5ish – work on our stuff skype with people if we can e-mail some more people think about dinner, what we are gonna do at night, contemplate if we need to buy food or not and Leave NAR.
5:30-6 – get home, depends on if we walk or minibus it home and much later if we go to the city first. Jeanette lets us in the gate, we greet her in Kinyarwanda – unlock our door and go inside - Take off our bags, open the windows grab a snack etc.
6:30-7 – cook a gourmet meal on a one element stove
7:30 – done with dinner, clean up and boil water for tea – begin reading, or typing stuff on the computer, or playing cards, or talking, or think about a movie to watch
7:45 – 10:00 – entertain ourselves as mentioned above sometimes a little bit of everything
10:00 – teeth are brushed, pajamas are on, bed net is up, lights are off and we try to go to sleep.
10:05 – Steph is asleep
11-11:30 – Mike is still up trying to fall asleep but can’t (I fall asleep eventually but we wake up a lot throughout the night, we are still yet to have a “good nights sleep” here)
Then we start it all over again.
Heartbreak
Let me start by introducing to you Solomon. He's the boy (probably about our age) who cleans the office and the home of Albert, a prominent NAR board member, and cooks us lunch every single day. He cooks meals that, from the looks of them, I would probably not eat back at home because of my pickiness, but they always taste amazing. He's a sweetheart who is always smiling and is trying to learn English and uses phrases like "one people" and "much moneys." He took us to the market to show us where to buy "special powder," the spice he always cooks with that we still don't have a real name for, and helped me to negotiate the price and design of the dress that I had made. He comes from a rural area near the border of Uganda, his father is dead and he supports his mother and sister off of the $1 a day that he makes here (from what we could gather). Since we met him we've tried to think of ways that we could possibly help him out and say thank you for how helpful he's been. We want to see him succeed.
Before we left work yesterday, he came into our office and told us that he would be gone for the rest of the week, because there was an accident at his home and his cow was dead and he has to go take care of some problems. Mike and I got soo upset. Cows are a sign of wealth here, and this was probably the only one that he owned and now it's gone. We talked to Julius, a NAR employee, to ask him for more details, and what it sounds like is that there was a terrible storm that knocked a tree into Solomon's home, ruining the house and killing the cow. In addition, there has been a push by the Rwandan government to "beautify" the countryside- i.e. tear down the not-as-pretty houses of the poor people. Solomon's is one of those homes.
The whole situation just breaks my heart and I want to help and I don't even know how :(
Before we left work yesterday, he came into our office and told us that he would be gone for the rest of the week, because there was an accident at his home and his cow was dead and he has to go take care of some problems. Mike and I got soo upset. Cows are a sign of wealth here, and this was probably the only one that he owned and now it's gone. We talked to Julius, a NAR employee, to ask him for more details, and what it sounds like is that there was a terrible storm that knocked a tree into Solomon's home, ruining the house and killing the cow. In addition, there has been a push by the Rwandan government to "beautify" the countryside- i.e. tear down the not-as-pretty houses of the poor people. Solomon's is one of those homes.
The whole situation just breaks my heart and I want to help and I don't even know how :(
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Orphans, hooligans, and baskets...
This weekend was the first weekend we had to visit around Kigali, and we didn't even know where to begin!
Saturday morning I went with Mireille to visit the orphanage that she's been going to for the past year and a half. There's a little girl there she's trying to adopt and she wants us to go visit for the 2 months that she's gone back to Canada so that Yacenta doesn't think she's forgotten about her, and wants Yacenta to be comfortable with us before she's gone. I wasn't really sure what to expect- I've never been to an orphanage, or even around orphans, in my life. It was overwhelming. We stayed with the 2-3 year olds (Yacenta's age group), of which there were about 40 children, all of whom would just run to you and lift their arms to be picked up and would just cry to be touched and held and loved. I couldn't bring myself to pick up a single child, because I didn't want to hurt any of their feelings or pick favorites and I knew if I picked one up, they'd all expect it, so I tried to just play with as many as possible. I got really choked up a couple of times when I looked around and tried to figure out how so many children are out there without someone to love them, and I just wanted to take them all home (don't worry, Mom, there's too many obstacles involved in adopting a child from here for me to take one home- you have to be at least 35 if you're single, or married for at least 5 years... but didn't Dad say he wanted another kid?!). Then the saddest thing I've ever seen in my life happened.
Mireille took Yacenta to the bathroom and while she was gone, I noticed a stampede of children running towards a group of benches and screaming, followed by some of the girls who work there (who can't be older than 15) and a woman I hadn't seen before who had some sort of developmental disability and was missing part of her hands. They got to the benches and the woman sat at one end and the children stood screaming at the other, and I saw the girls bringing the children, one by one, to the woman, but I couldn't figure out what was going on; all I knew was that these children seemed to be scared to death of this woman and that the girls working there were getting a kick out of what seemed to be a sick and twisted game for them. Finally Mireille came back and I told her what I noticed but that I didn't know what was going on and she talked to the girls and realized that they were using the children and this woman just for their own amusement, because they thought it was funny to make this woman into a monster to them. Mireille went over to the woman, with Yacenta on her back to show the little girl that there was nothing to be ashamed of, and the woman just grabbed Mireille's hand and started stroking her own face with it. Obviously she hadn't received any affection in a long time, if ever, and just wanted to be touched. She most likely just wanted to play with the children and had no clue why they were so scared of her.
It turns out, just next to the orphanage is a community of genocide survivors and developmentally-challenged children and adults. We brought the woman back down there, and hung out for awhile. I actually felt much more comfortable here than in the orphanage, because there were no expectations or energy-consuming activities. Everyone just wanted to sit and talk with you. I think I'll be back there to hang out quite frequently, and it's making me wonder again if I should go into special education like I always used to want to (which I'm sure would make Mike's dad proud as well!).
Phew.
Mike and I had originally planned to go to the Genocide Memorial that afternoon, but after my emotionally-trying morning, we decided to save that for another time and to start shopping for crafts and gifts. We went to 2 different and LARGE markets and now have a feel for how much everything that we want costs. If you want a peace basket, coffee, or a mask (or anything else) place your order with us soon :)
We heard about a Rwanda vs. Morocco soccer match that we could've gone to but we didn't really have time to get ready and didn't realize that it was part of the World Cup qualifying games (not sure what round it's up to but it was a much bigger game than we realized!). Well, everywhere we went we heard people listening to the game, and although the commentating was all in Kinyarwanda, we could tell that Rwanda was doing pretty well. We left our house to pick up dinner right when the game was let out (the final score was 3-0, Rwanda) and trust me when I say, I felt like Mardi Gras came to Kigali. EVERYONE in the country must have been on the street, and of course we were trying to go opposite of the traffic, so it took us about an hour to do a half hour walk. Cars in the street are honking, people are clapping and cheering (but still stopping to stare at the Muzungus walking by) and all that was missing was hearing "Throw me something, mister!" (although, for all we know, they could have been saying that- we can't understand a word of anything!). Then the bus with the players drove by and I thought we were going to be trampled! It was such a fun thing to be in the middle of, and I'm soooo upset we didn't go to the game, but now we know not to miss the next one!
Saturday morning I went with Mireille to visit the orphanage that she's been going to for the past year and a half. There's a little girl there she's trying to adopt and she wants us to go visit for the 2 months that she's gone back to Canada so that Yacenta doesn't think she's forgotten about her, and wants Yacenta to be comfortable with us before she's gone. I wasn't really sure what to expect- I've never been to an orphanage, or even around orphans, in my life. It was overwhelming. We stayed with the 2-3 year olds (Yacenta's age group), of which there were about 40 children, all of whom would just run to you and lift their arms to be picked up and would just cry to be touched and held and loved. I couldn't bring myself to pick up a single child, because I didn't want to hurt any of their feelings or pick favorites and I knew if I picked one up, they'd all expect it, so I tried to just play with as many as possible. I got really choked up a couple of times when I looked around and tried to figure out how so many children are out there without someone to love them, and I just wanted to take them all home (don't worry, Mom, there's too many obstacles involved in adopting a child from here for me to take one home- you have to be at least 35 if you're single, or married for at least 5 years... but didn't Dad say he wanted another kid?!). Then the saddest thing I've ever seen in my life happened.
Mireille took Yacenta to the bathroom and while she was gone, I noticed a stampede of children running towards a group of benches and screaming, followed by some of the girls who work there (who can't be older than 15) and a woman I hadn't seen before who had some sort of developmental disability and was missing part of her hands. They got to the benches and the woman sat at one end and the children stood screaming at the other, and I saw the girls bringing the children, one by one, to the woman, but I couldn't figure out what was going on; all I knew was that these children seemed to be scared to death of this woman and that the girls working there were getting a kick out of what seemed to be a sick and twisted game for them. Finally Mireille came back and I told her what I noticed but that I didn't know what was going on and she talked to the girls and realized that they were using the children and this woman just for their own amusement, because they thought it was funny to make this woman into a monster to them. Mireille went over to the woman, with Yacenta on her back to show the little girl that there was nothing to be ashamed of, and the woman just grabbed Mireille's hand and started stroking her own face with it. Obviously she hadn't received any affection in a long time, if ever, and just wanted to be touched. She most likely just wanted to play with the children and had no clue why they were so scared of her.
It turns out, just next to the orphanage is a community of genocide survivors and developmentally-challenged children and adults. We brought the woman back down there, and hung out for awhile. I actually felt much more comfortable here than in the orphanage, because there were no expectations or energy-consuming activities. Everyone just wanted to sit and talk with you. I think I'll be back there to hang out quite frequently, and it's making me wonder again if I should go into special education like I always used to want to (which I'm sure would make Mike's dad proud as well!).
Phew.
Mike and I had originally planned to go to the Genocide Memorial that afternoon, but after my emotionally-trying morning, we decided to save that for another time and to start shopping for crafts and gifts. We went to 2 different and LARGE markets and now have a feel for how much everything that we want costs. If you want a peace basket, coffee, or a mask (or anything else) place your order with us soon :)
We heard about a Rwanda vs. Morocco soccer match that we could've gone to but we didn't really have time to get ready and didn't realize that it was part of the World Cup qualifying games (not sure what round it's up to but it was a much bigger game than we realized!). Well, everywhere we went we heard people listening to the game, and although the commentating was all in Kinyarwanda, we could tell that Rwanda was doing pretty well. We left our house to pick up dinner right when the game was let out (the final score was 3-0, Rwanda) and trust me when I say, I felt like Mardi Gras came to Kigali. EVERYONE in the country must have been on the street, and of course we were trying to go opposite of the traffic, so it took us about an hour to do a half hour walk. Cars in the street are honking, people are clapping and cheering (but still stopping to stare at the Muzungus walking by) and all that was missing was hearing "Throw me something, mister!" (although, for all we know, they could have been saying that- we can't understand a word of anything!). Then the bus with the players drove by and I thought we were going to be trampled! It was such a fun thing to be in the middle of, and I'm soooo upset we didn't go to the game, but now we know not to miss the next one!
Chris DiCanio, this one's for you...
So yesterday we left to go downtown to grab some food and the internet. Mike followed me to the door but then stopped a good distance behind me and said, very loudly in his Mike Brand voice, "WHAT the hell is THAT?!" So I'm expecting like a tiny little spider or something (he hates bugs of all sorts and tends to exaggerate their size.. sorry Mike, but it's true!) and I look and see a worm-y thing freaking out on the ground, trying to crawl but not able to go anywhere because the floor was so slippery. First thing that pops into my mind is that it's one of those weird tapeworm things that crawls into your orifices and goes through the whole body. But Mike realizes that a worm would probably be able to grip to the floor, so he leans closer then jumps up and says "I saw a tongue! It's a snake! It's a $#@^&% snake!" which prompts me to jump and yell and freak out. The thing was literally about 4 inches long and as thick as a piece of twine, and I didn't think it was possible for a snake to be that small so I leaned down to look and sure enough, out pops its tiny tiny little tongue as it's trying to move. I jump and scream again. (MawMaw, if you're reading this, I'm sure you're having flashbacks to when I was visiting you in Ohio and saw the little snake on the nature walk and started SCREAMING. Let me assure you, the only reason I was so scared this time was because I didn't know if this tiny little snake hatched from a big mommy snake somewhere else in the house and I'd discover it at a later date. I still get the chills thinking about it).
So anyway, we're in the house trying to figure out what to do with this baby snake. Mike first takes a stack of papers and starts to try to push it out the door, but it SPAZZED out and moved around faster than I thought possible for an animal. Next idea: I went outside to grab the squeegee-mop thing we use to clean the floor in our house, but in the process I'm making some grossed-out-noises and Jeanette (the girl who cooks and cleans for the people who own our home) comes out to see what's wrong. She doesn't speak any English so I just point and she grabs the squeegee thing, runs into the house, and shoos it outside. But she's not done there. She starts whacking and thwacking away with the squeegee, stopping occassionally to look and to see that it was still moving. She takes off her shoe and hits and hits and hits... stops, looks... hits hits hits... At this point, I'm laughing, Mike's laughing, and Immaculee (the woman who owns our house) is laughing, while Jeanette seems to be letting go of 17 years of pent-up anger. It's finally dead, so she pushes it down the drain, followed by a bucket of water just to make sure it's really gone.
Needless to say, I still get the creeps thinking about it and watch every step that I take. The size of the snake doesn't do justice to the few memories I have of snakes in our yard in Texas, but nonetheless, no one wants snakes in their house. So Chris D., when are you coming to visit?! :)
So anyway, we're in the house trying to figure out what to do with this baby snake. Mike first takes a stack of papers and starts to try to push it out the door, but it SPAZZED out and moved around faster than I thought possible for an animal. Next idea: I went outside to grab the squeegee-mop thing we use to clean the floor in our house, but in the process I'm making some grossed-out-noises and Jeanette (the girl who cooks and cleans for the people who own our home) comes out to see what's wrong. She doesn't speak any English so I just point and she grabs the squeegee thing, runs into the house, and shoos it outside. But she's not done there. She starts whacking and thwacking away with the squeegee, stopping occassionally to look and to see that it was still moving. She takes off her shoe and hits and hits and hits... stops, looks... hits hits hits... At this point, I'm laughing, Mike's laughing, and Immaculee (the woman who owns our house) is laughing, while Jeanette seems to be letting go of 17 years of pent-up anger. It's finally dead, so she pushes it down the drain, followed by a bucket of water just to make sure it's really gone.
Needless to say, I still get the creeps thinking about it and watch every step that I take. The size of the snake doesn't do justice to the few memories I have of snakes in our yard in Texas, but nonetheless, no one wants snakes in their house. So Chris D., when are you coming to visit?! :)
Friday, June 13, 2008
"She says you have the better skin"
The scope of living in a White-dominated world just hit home... not for the first time in my life, but it still reverberates nonetheless.
We've just returned from the market, where I was having a dress made by a local seamstress (the dress is beautiful and the crafstmanship is enviable by a wannabe seamstress such as myself). This market is located down the street from NAR, just outside of Kigali, and very infrequently traveled to by Muzungus, and we are called this moreso here than anywhere else that we typically visit (Mike, you can disagree if you'd like, but I think it's true). As we are leaving, a group of women calls to us and says many things that we can't understand (except "Muzungu"), so Henz, our friend and a regular at NAR who we brought along with us to translate, asks me if I understand her. When I say no, he says, "She says you have the better skin."
I immediately feel ashamed, embarassed, and saddened, but am left speechless because I don't know how to respond to that in English, much less in Kinyarwanda.
How sad it is that a poor, rural African woman who has probably had little direct interaction with Muzungus in her life, expresses some jealousy over a white girl walking by. What is global society teaching her or showing to her to cause her to make such a statement? And sadly, in the world we live in, is such a loaded statement so inaccurate?
Because I am a white girl from the USA, doors have been opened to me in a way that this woman may never fully understand. Yes, I tend to get caught up in self-pity when thinking about my return home: how I'll be returning to little savings, as most of my money was spent on this trip, and how I may not immediately have a job, a place to stay, etc. But how selfish of me! If need be, I could crash at my parents' place (right, Mom and Dad...?), or wait tables at Sailfish until I find something more secure. This woman at the market is most likely surviving on $1 a day, entirely dependent on how many people come to herto buy tomatoes on any given day.
It's a worldly injustice that I've profited off of, and has led me to obtain a degree from a great University, while most females on this beautiful continent do not even have the opportunity to attend or finish primary school. It's a worldly injustice that one cannot even begin to comprehend unless immersed in a country where he or she is in the privileged vast minority, and even then, it is almost incomprehensible. Yet it is a worldly injustice that is difficult to change, because of the social structures and ideologiesthat are present everywhere. Yes, we have our first African American presidential nominee which is awesome and says a lot about some people, but when you learn some of the views other people have about him, it's still quite discouraging.
So what's a (white) girl to do?
We've just returned from the market, where I was having a dress made by a local seamstress (the dress is beautiful and the crafstmanship is enviable by a wannabe seamstress such as myself). This market is located down the street from NAR, just outside of Kigali, and very infrequently traveled to by Muzungus, and we are called this moreso here than anywhere else that we typically visit (Mike, you can disagree if you'd like, but I think it's true). As we are leaving, a group of women calls to us and says many things that we can't understand (except "Muzungu"), so Henz, our friend and a regular at NAR who we brought along with us to translate, asks me if I understand her. When I say no, he says, "She says you have the better skin."
I immediately feel ashamed, embarassed, and saddened, but am left speechless because I don't know how to respond to that in English, much less in Kinyarwanda.
How sad it is that a poor, rural African woman who has probably had little direct interaction with Muzungus in her life, expresses some jealousy over a white girl walking by. What is global society teaching her or showing to her to cause her to make such a statement? And sadly, in the world we live in, is such a loaded statement so inaccurate?
Because I am a white girl from the USA, doors have been opened to me in a way that this woman may never fully understand. Yes, I tend to get caught up in self-pity when thinking about my return home: how I'll be returning to little savings, as most of my money was spent on this trip, and how I may not immediately have a job, a place to stay, etc. But how selfish of me! If need be, I could crash at my parents' place (right, Mom and Dad...?), or wait tables at Sailfish until I find something more secure. This woman at the market is most likely surviving on $1 a day, entirely dependent on how many people come to herto buy tomatoes on any given day.
It's a worldly injustice that I've profited off of, and has led me to obtain a degree from a great University, while most females on this beautiful continent do not even have the opportunity to attend or finish primary school. It's a worldly injustice that one cannot even begin to comprehend unless immersed in a country where he or she is in the privileged vast minority, and even then, it is almost incomprehensible. Yet it is a worldly injustice that is difficult to change, because of the social structures and ideologiesthat are present everywhere. Yes, we have our first African American presidential nominee which is awesome and says a lot about some people, but when you learn some of the views other people have about him, it's still quite discouraging.
So what's a (white) girl to do?
Another anecdote...
So yesterday when we left NAR, we walked to the main road to catch a minibus taxi home, when we both heard loud chanting. I looked up and first saw a group of men standing around and got a little nervous because I wasn't sure if they were about to riot. Then I noticed a huge dump truck coming down the road, with one guy in tan standing above the cabin of the truck, and other men sitting on the edge of the bed of the truck, all of whom were dressed in pink... Pink = prisoners... (They say that they use the color to make the men stand out in case they escape, but I think it's just to de-masculinize them). Apparently the man standing up top was carrying a huge AK-47, which I didn't notice and I'm quite glad that I didn't, because guns aren't exactly my thing.
The whole scene was just surreal... these men could have easily jumped off the truck if they really wanted to, although the guy with the gun probably would have open-fired, and then chaos could have ensued... It's just so different from the US, where prisoners are locked away and kept from the rest of society (for the most part).
The whole scene was just surreal... these men could have easily jumped off the truck if they really wanted to, although the guy with the gun probably would have open-fired, and then chaos could have ensued... It's just so different from the US, where prisoners are locked away and kept from the rest of society (for the most part).
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Scary Children
The scariest thing happened the other day when Mike and I were walking back home from downtown. As we've made clear many times, people tend to congregate around us everywhere we go; however, this time our crowd of spectators included a little boy of no more than 5, who was holding a machete. I'm not even kidding. And before we reached where he was standing, he was waving it around. It took everything in me not to scream and I grabbed Mike's arm and almost literally ran by him without my usual greeting of "Muraho!"
Not only is it terrifying to imagine what a 5-year old could do with a machete; what's even scarier is knowing the history of these weapons in this country. It tended to be the weapon of choice in the genocide of 1994, so once you got over this child using it as a toy, you can't help but wonder how it was used 14 years ago... Was it used to kill innocents? If so, did they tell the boy of its history?
The history of the country is muted all around us, so you can't help but speculate, as Mike has talked about. I've just discovered that "Camp Kigali," where the Belgian UN soldiers were slaughtered, is a 5 minute walk from our house... it's crazy. This weekend we're planning to visit this, as well as other memorials, and I'm sure we'll have a lot to say about that. We'll be sure to keep you posted!
Amahoro,
Steph xoxo
PS- We've gotten some complaints that it seems as if nothing that interesting has happened to us yet (because apparently being charged by an elephant is a walk in the park), so I'll try to post more of these little anecdotes here and there...
Not only is it terrifying to imagine what a 5-year old could do with a machete; what's even scarier is knowing the history of these weapons in this country. It tended to be the weapon of choice in the genocide of 1994, so once you got over this child using it as a toy, you can't help but wonder how it was used 14 years ago... Was it used to kill innocents? If so, did they tell the boy of its history?
The history of the country is muted all around us, so you can't help but speculate, as Mike has talked about. I've just discovered that "Camp Kigali," where the Belgian UN soldiers were slaughtered, is a 5 minute walk from our house... it's crazy. This weekend we're planning to visit this, as well as other memorials, and I'm sure we'll have a lot to say about that. We'll be sure to keep you posted!
Amahoro,
Steph xoxo
PS- We've gotten some complaints that it seems as if nothing that interesting has happened to us yet (because apparently being charged by an elephant is a walk in the park), so I'll try to post more of these little anecdotes here and there...
Hmm…I wonder
So this is something we have tried to avoid but is unavoidable once your imagination starts to wander. As most of you know 14 years ago there was a genocide in Rwanda which after 100 days ended in the deaths of nearly one million Tutsis and moderate Hutus (the two different major “ethnicities” in Rwanda, I’ll try to post a link to a brief history). The genocide was not carried out in gas chambers or concentration camps, people were not starved or poisoned, no this genocide was a very brutal un-technological one in which the majority of the killings were carried out at the hands of ordinary citizens wielding machetes or other “tools”. Friends who grew up together for years, played soccer together, went to the same schools, were neighbors etc. were divided on April 6, 1994 into Victim and Killer. One of the most powerful images I have ever heard that puts a very distinct image in your head is the sight of mothers with babies on their backs wielding a machete killing another mother.
It’s a strange feeling. In
It sometimes happens when I meet someone, not usually right away like at the handshake I am sizing them up trying to figure out if they have blood on their hands. But if I am around someone long enough, not all the time but sometimes, it pops into my head. Like I am sitting here with this person interacting with them, laughing etc. and it is possible that they have killed, raped, beaten etc. Or if you see a group of people crowded somewhere, sometimes an image pops into your head of the crazed citizens grouping together and heading off to slaughter some innocent people.
The house we are living in, the neighborhood where we live or work, the house we work at, all could have been stages for death. Some of you may be asking wouldn’t these people be in jail? Well when such a large percent of your population is guilty in some way, it is impossible to arrest each and every individual and jail them. The system of justice for the genocide has most of the “serious offenders” in jail. However, many have either served their jail time, their community service sentence or were never indicted.
Something that Steph and I have been discussing a lot recently and something that has always racked my brain about genocide and mass atrocities (something that I wish I could study and research more and figure out) like this is how people can turn it on and off. Turn on and off what? Either way Humanity & Evil. They turn off Humanity and turn on Evil to commit these horrific acts but after the conflict is over they turn off the Evil and turn back on Humanity.
It’s is definitely a crazy thing to think about and can mess with your mind. Many of the ordinary citizens who were involved in the genocide have said that they believed that they were under the “orders” of the government and that the Tutsi were portrayed as inhuman, and once you can dehumanize someone it is easier to kill. I’ve heard things such as, once you think of the person as an insect or some other creature, some animal it is not hard to kill. But it doesn’t make sense how one day you think of someone as human the next they are not and you can kill them and then another day bam they are human again and you can’t kill them any more. Obviously that is a very oversimplified assessment of the situation but is applicable nonetheless.
I’m not really sure where I am going with all of this, just wanted to share my feelings with everyone. It is something that I have thought about for years and have always wondered as I studied
It is especially interesting and disturbing at the same time when you turn this reflection and study inward. When you look within yourself and to your friends and family and wonder what you and they are capable of. It is easy for people to say, o I could never do something like that, that would never happen here etc. etc. But you really don’t have to look far to see it, maybe not to the same degree but a slight departing from humanity nonetheless, whether it be at a high school on Long Island, or a frat or sorority house anywhere in the country, or within the military or a gang etc. It is present.
Thank you!
I just wanted to say thank you all for all your encouraging words and support. While this trip has had a few more frustrations than I had expected, I think overall it's going to be a worthwhile experience that I'll never forget. It's definitely helping me to learn a lot more about myself (and question things about myself I thought to be true), which I think everyone needs to experience at least once in his or her life. Also, we've learned that we are not alone in our disappointments regarding the internships- the other interns/researchers seem to be having some of the same thoughts. We have a meeting today with Dr. Joseph, who originally set the whole thing up, to discuss the problems we are having. If nothing is resolved, then we will leave. While I'm not really the type to give up, I am in this amazing country with so many amazing organizations doing wonderful things, and I can find some place to focus my efforts and make a difference.
As I write this, Mike is wearing one of our Idealists United "Save the Humans" shirts, which I think is very poignant. That's what we came here to do, in some way or another, and any little bit counts. While I may not still have the mindset I've had since I was a little girl, that I could save the world, I can do SOMETHING. So I will. If not here, somewhere else. I may not leave a lasting mark on Rwanda, but at least it will leave a lasting mark on me (and that may possibly be the corniest thing I've EVER said in my life!!).
So thanks again, I love you all, and keep the emails and comments coming :)
Amahoro,
Steph xoxo
As I write this, Mike is wearing one of our Idealists United "Save the Humans" shirts, which I think is very poignant. That's what we came here to do, in some way or another, and any little bit counts. While I may not still have the mindset I've had since I was a little girl, that I could save the world, I can do SOMETHING. So I will. If not here, somewhere else. I may not leave a lasting mark on Rwanda, but at least it will leave a lasting mark on me (and that may possibly be the corniest thing I've EVER said in my life!!).
So thanks again, I love you all, and keep the emails and comments coming :)
Amahoro,
Steph xoxo
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Food for thought...
Sorry I know this is supposed to be a blog about our experiences in Rwanda, the things we are seeing and doing and what not but I read this today and since I know there are so many people reading this blog I figured this would be an easy way of having a bunch of people read about an extremely important issue within our own government. This is something that many have been following for a long time, but others may not fully be aware of at all.
Below is a link to a BBC article about the billions of dollars that are mysteriously missing from the Iraq war. As it is said in the article, the war can turn out to be the largest war profiteering in history. All wars have profiteers, it is an inevitable partnership that exists with waging war, someone somewhere profits. The questions we should be asking is...who is profiting? What positions do they hold? And is it just a lil bit fishy (for lack of a more vulgar term)?
Adding to the myriad of problems that exist with the war in Iraq, the legality of the war, how it has been conducted, the numerous screwups in policy, torture, unnecessary death, destruction of individuals' liberties, freedoms and rights, devastation of infrastructure, and much much more that I will not write, but would be happy to discuss further, NOW there is the issue of money that is unaccounted for (although this is not a new issue, it is only recently making it to mainstream media).
And it is not a small amount. Over $20 billion. What could we do with that money? Provide new books for numerous schools that are lacking, help rebuild NOLA, subsidize health care, help subsidize college tuitions etc.
Anyway, read the article, do some research, get angry and make sure you think about all of these issues when you vote in November!!!
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7444083.stm
Below is a link to a BBC article about the billions of dollars that are mysteriously missing from the Iraq war. As it is said in the article, the war can turn out to be the largest war profiteering in history. All wars have profiteers, it is an inevitable partnership that exists with waging war, someone somewhere profits. The questions we should be asking is...who is profiting? What positions do they hold? And is it just a lil bit fishy (for lack of a more vulgar term)?
Adding to the myriad of problems that exist with the war in Iraq, the legality of the war, how it has been conducted, the numerous screwups in policy, torture, unnecessary death, destruction of individuals' liberties, freedoms and rights, devastation of infrastructure, and much much more that I will not write, but would be happy to discuss further, NOW there is the issue of money that is unaccounted for (although this is not a new issue, it is only recently making it to mainstream media).
And it is not a small amount. Over $20 billion. What could we do with that money? Provide new books for numerous schools that are lacking, help rebuild NOLA, subsidize health care, help subsidize college tuitions etc.
Anyway, read the article, do some research, get angry and make sure you think about all of these issues when you vote in November!!!
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7444083.stm
Heat Wave!!!
HAHA for you not us! Just wanted to send a quick note out to everyone while you are sweating your &#$*@'s off we are in Africa and the weather has been like 65-75 every day here, with one hot day in the mix which only got to about 85 with no humidity.
Just a funny little bit of irony. We'll send some more pics of Rwanda and the landscape so you can see why it NEVER gets that hot here. Their temperature all year long is an average of 75-85 its amazing.
Just a funny little bit of irony. We'll send some more pics of Rwanda and the landscape so you can see why it NEVER gets that hot here. Their temperature all year long is an average of 75-85 its amazing.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Marketplace (take 1)
Steph and I needed to get some groceries to make dinner last week so we ventured over to the local market in Biryogo (the town where we are staying). BTW if you haven’t already you should look at the GoogleMaps page to see where we are staying and look at our picture page to see some pics from our house.
Any way Steph led the way since she had already been there with Mireille earlier in the week (I was taking a nap). The market is set down the hill deep within the neighborhood across the street from our house. The people in our immediate neighborhood are starting to recognize us but these people in this part of the community have not yet seen us, so it was quite a sight.
Everyone was walking around us and you could here the people all saying Muzungu Muzungu (white person). The kids are so funny. This has been a trend that we see all over Kigali, the kids will muster up the courage to speak to us, sometimes saying something in English like “Hi” or “How are you?” or something in French such as “Bonjour” but they wait till we are almost past them before they say something. We have adjusted to hearing Muzungu all the time and now when the kids shout it out we will wave at them and the smiles that you get are SOO cute. Sometimes the little ones will keep calling out to us 3,4,5 or more times as we are walking away and eventually we just have to ignore it or else we will never get anything done if we are stopping to wave all the time.
Anyway back to the market, so we were going there without any agenda, we just wanted to check out what they had and see what we could buy to make a good dinner. I was approached by a guy who looked like Don Cheadle asking me for money. He spoke very good English, or at least the few phrases of asking for money.
We almost left the market because we couldn’t decide on anything to buy when we saw potatoes. So we walked over to the woman who was selling the potatoes (sitting on the floor with a pile of potatoes) and tried to ask how much. Steph learned how to say “how much” in Kinyarwanda from Mireille. (I’m not sure if I have mentioned this before but the people in our neighborhood do not speak anything but Kinyarwanda. Maybe a phrase or two in English but no comprehension past that and possibly Bonjour in French.) Ok back to the asking how much. So Steph picks up three potatoes and says “Angayah” and everyone looks at her like she has 3 heads. So she says it again “Angayah” and still no response. So she asks in French “combien?” still no response. (The reason the woman was not responding to "Angayah?" was because it is actually "Angahe" pronounced ahnGahHay.)
Finally I say to Steph, just pull out like 100 RWF (the local currency, about a quarter USD) and show it to her, and she will give us as many potatoes as that is worth. So Steph shows them the 100 and the woman proceeds to take the potatoes out of Steph’s hands and puts them on a scale. Then she adds another one, and another one, and another one. The lady doubled what we were willing to pay for the potatoes. It is one of the things that has shocked Steph and I the most about being here. Generally, the people here are not trying to screw us over. We have heard about it happening in other places and even parts of Rwanda where there will be a local price for something and a “muzungu” price, but we haven’t really had that happen to us. When we take the local mini-buses we pay the same amount as the locals, the cab drivers have been charging us the normal fare, and even at the Market where this woman easily could have taken the 100 RWF for the three potatoes she didn’t.
It’s a nice feeling knowing that although we are stared at, called Muzungu, and stand out to no end, the people here still have respect for us and are not out to screw us over.
Any way Steph led the way since she had already been there with Mireille earlier in the week (I was taking a nap). The market is set down the hill deep within the neighborhood across the street from our house. The people in our immediate neighborhood are starting to recognize us but these people in this part of the community have not yet seen us, so it was quite a sight.
Everyone was walking around us and you could here the people all saying Muzungu Muzungu (white person). The kids are so funny. This has been a trend that we see all over Kigali, the kids will muster up the courage to speak to us, sometimes saying something in English like “Hi” or “How are you?” or something in French such as “Bonjour” but they wait till we are almost past them before they say something. We have adjusted to hearing Muzungu all the time and now when the kids shout it out we will wave at them and the smiles that you get are SOO cute. Sometimes the little ones will keep calling out to us 3,4,5 or more times as we are walking away and eventually we just have to ignore it or else we will never get anything done if we are stopping to wave all the time.
Anyway back to the market, so we were going there without any agenda, we just wanted to check out what they had and see what we could buy to make a good dinner. I was approached by a guy who looked like Don Cheadle asking me for money. He spoke very good English, or at least the few phrases of asking for money.
We almost left the market because we couldn’t decide on anything to buy when we saw potatoes. So we walked over to the woman who was selling the potatoes (sitting on the floor with a pile of potatoes) and tried to ask how much. Steph learned how to say “how much” in Kinyarwanda from Mireille. (I’m not sure if I have mentioned this before but the people in our neighborhood do not speak anything but Kinyarwanda. Maybe a phrase or two in English but no comprehension past that and possibly Bonjour in French.) Ok back to the asking how much. So Steph picks up three potatoes and says “Angayah” and everyone looks at her like she has 3 heads. So she says it again “Angayah” and still no response. So she asks in French “combien?” still no response. (The reason the woman was not responding to "Angayah?" was because it is actually "Angahe" pronounced ahnGahHay.)
Finally I say to Steph, just pull out like 100 RWF (the local currency, about a quarter USD) and show it to her, and she will give us as many potatoes as that is worth. So Steph shows them the 100 and the woman proceeds to take the potatoes out of Steph’s hands and puts them on a scale. Then she adds another one, and another one, and another one. The lady doubled what we were willing to pay for the potatoes. It is one of the things that has shocked Steph and I the most about being here. Generally, the people here are not trying to screw us over. We have heard about it happening in other places and even parts of Rwanda where there will be a local price for something and a “muzungu” price, but we haven’t really had that happen to us. When we take the local mini-buses we pay the same amount as the locals, the cab drivers have been charging us the normal fare, and even at the Market where this woman easily could have taken the 100 RWF for the three potatoes she didn’t.
It’s a nice feeling knowing that although we are stared at, called Muzungu, and stand out to no end, the people here still have respect for us and are not out to screw us over.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Muzungu Central
My mom wanted me to reassure everyone of my safety, because apparently a few people have expressed concerns. I AM SAFE. I live in a somewhat poor neighborhood, but all it does is make me a spectacle, not a target. Save for a few children asking for francs (and we've learned that it's actually illegal to givemoney to those who ask on the street), we are mostly approached by people who just want to practice their French and English on us. We get laughed at when we speak the few Kinyarwanda words but mostly in an appreciative and friendly way, because it is against the cultural norm to poke fun at people. And outside of our neighborhood, there are actually more Muzungus than we would have expected.
We just explored the mall downtown, and I was actually in complete shock as to how Western it was. We've heard about an American-style coffeehouse, but we did not expect it to be just like Starbuck's. It's even called "Bourbon" and has Bourbon Street signs all over, so that really made me feel at home! There was a huge grocery store which appeared to be going out of business but which probably would have had American foods that we were craving. It's kind of sad to be patronizing these huge businesses that are competition for the local smaller markets, but the selfish part of me is happy to have a place where I can enjoy an iced mocha latte and muffin while using wireless internet on my laptop. Especially when I know that afterwards, I will be returning to no shower and lots of bugs...
But to reiterate, the only major problems I'm really facing are some adjustment issues, internship difficulties, and some minor technological inconveniences. The only times I've been concerned for my safetyare when I react to being looked at as I reacted in South Africa. While I still don't know what the looks and stares are for (either I'm really funny-looking or really beautiful!) I've learned that it's not to attack me. And while there are many feminist issues at hand in this practice ofstaring, it is at least a step to not be afraid of assault! There are also police, security guards, and undercover cops all over the street, and violence is not tolerated anywhere. That is one outcome to having such a violent past, I suppose!
So please, don't worry about me. But please do stay in touch- I haven't heard from many people yet, and I miss you all!
xoSteph
We just explored the mall downtown, and I was actually in complete shock as to how Western it was. We've heard about an American-style coffeehouse, but we did not expect it to be just like Starbuck's. It's even called "Bourbon" and has Bourbon Street signs all over, so that really made me feel at home! There was a huge grocery store which appeared to be going out of business but which probably would have had American foods that we were craving. It's kind of sad to be patronizing these huge businesses that are competition for the local smaller markets, but the selfish part of me is happy to have a place where I can enjoy an iced mocha latte and muffin while using wireless internet on my laptop. Especially when I know that afterwards, I will be returning to no shower and lots of bugs...
But to reiterate, the only major problems I'm really facing are some adjustment issues, internship difficulties, and some minor technological inconveniences. The only times I've been concerned for my safetyare when I react to being looked at as I reacted in South Africa. While I still don't know what the looks and stares are for (either I'm really funny-looking or really beautiful!) I've learned that it's not to attack me. And while there are many feminist issues at hand in this practice ofstaring, it is at least a step to not be afraid of assault! There are also police, security guards, and undercover cops all over the street, and violence is not tolerated anywhere. That is one outcome to having such a violent past, I suppose!
So please, don't worry about me. But please do stay in touch- I haven't heard from many people yet, and I miss you all!
xoSteph
There are so many different thoughts racing through my head since I’ve gotten here, some of which have been brought out even more by our drive through the rural country to Akagera, all of which seem interconnected, and none of which I seem to be able to make complete sense of. As Mike has said, our internships are producing many doubts, mostly surrounding our overall effectiveness as human rights advocates. I really hoped to be more hands-on with my work here, and I thought ahead of time that the focus of my role at NAR would be on female empowerment, and getting the girls in the various youth clubs more involved and in leadership roles. However, we were not told that most of the clubs are faraway in another province, and it takes much organizing (and money out of our own pockets, despite the fact that we’ve paid internship fees and have no income while here) to be able to visit. Also, we found out that they only meet an average of once a month, and because we are only here for three months, it does not give me the time to be able to observe the girls, get to know them, and develop a plan of action for their involvement, so the whole thing seems to be a futile idea. It also raises the question of, “Who am I, this American Muzungu who has barely spent a week in this country, to tell others how things should be run?” It seems very ethnocentric of me, and adds to that awful notion of the white humanitarian swooping in to save the Africans from themselves. This is an image that is evoked all too often, but difficult to avoid when I am, in fact, white, with the desire to see Africa flourish.
A project that seems as if it can actually be fruitful is our development of a human rights curriculum to be taught at the NAR youth clubs. Most of the clubs are run out of secondary schools, but some are at universities and others are unaffiliated with any school, so our challenge is to create a curriculum that is adaptable for any education level, and relevant to the lives of Rwandan youth. Even this, which is precisely what the majority of my college education was spent preparing me for, has made me question everything. How important is it in the long run to teach every child what her rights are according to these United Nations documents, when she has been working since a young age just to have enough food to eat? Are these international laws really relevant to her everyday life? That is, of course, the biggest debate surrounding human rights, and in the end I always go back to the fact that it is imperative to have these international standards and to work towards enforcing them everywhere so that all peoples may have a fair quality of life. But lately I’ve been feeling that I need a career that has more direct action. I think that is why I enjoyed my job at the National Kidney Foundation more than I originally expected to. Although I was not directly involved in the patient advocacy, I could see how people were being helped by our organization. Even my job seemed to offer assistance fairly often, which is what made it worthwhile. This has created a whole new moral dilemma in my mind. Everyone needs some sort of help in their lives, this is undeniable. If it is my passion in life to help others, is it morally superior to seek out those who are in most desperate need, or is any sort of help to anyone who needs it, good? In other words, is assistance at all levels worthwhile or should I continue to find the poorest or most exploited people to donate my time and efforts to? Will that just leave me burnt out by the age of 25? It’s a discussion that came up again between Mike and I on our drive home from the park. We drove through some of the most destitute areas in the world, where the villages lived entirely off of the land, with perhaps no monetary income. Yet we had to wonder, what sorts of things could we even donate to these villages that would be helpful? They didn’t have fancy things, but they had food and water and a nearby hospital funded by the Clinton Foundation and run by Partners in Health, which is more than we are able to say about areas of our own country. Parts of my own birthplace of New Orleans are still completely uninhabitable, and nothing is being done about it; meanwhile, our own government has established a huge USAid facility just down the road from our house in Kigali. It provokes the question everyone asked when I told them I was going to Africa- "Why are you helping there when so many people in your own country need help?" I'm not by any means saying that we should not be giving as much money as we do to Rwanda, but how is it that we can afford to do so, yet an entire major city is still in shambles after almost 3 years? Part of the reason is probably the guilt the US feels for not acting in the 1994 genocide, but how long will it take before they take responsibility for their inaction after Katrina? It makes me so angry to think about, and even a bit guilty for not pursuing a job in New Orleans as I had previously said I would do upon graduation.
I don't even know the point I am trying to convey with this post, so I'm sorry if I've just confused everyone who read it. I just needed to try to express what I am thinking and feeling, in the hope that it would help me figure out some answers. That's a negative.
xoSteph
A project that seems as if it can actually be fruitful is our development of a human rights curriculum to be taught at the NAR youth clubs. Most of the clubs are run out of secondary schools, but some are at universities and others are unaffiliated with any school, so our challenge is to create a curriculum that is adaptable for any education level, and relevant to the lives of Rwandan youth. Even this, which is precisely what the majority of my college education was spent preparing me for, has made me question everything. How important is it in the long run to teach every child what her rights are according to these United Nations documents, when she has been working since a young age just to have enough food to eat? Are these international laws really relevant to her everyday life? That is, of course, the biggest debate surrounding human rights, and in the end I always go back to the fact that it is imperative to have these international standards and to work towards enforcing them everywhere so that all peoples may have a fair quality of life. But lately I’ve been feeling that I need a career that has more direct action. I think that is why I enjoyed my job at the National Kidney Foundation more than I originally expected to. Although I was not directly involved in the patient advocacy, I could see how people were being helped by our organization. Even my job seemed to offer assistance fairly often, which is what made it worthwhile. This has created a whole new moral dilemma in my mind. Everyone needs some sort of help in their lives, this is undeniable. If it is my passion in life to help others, is it morally superior to seek out those who are in most desperate need, or is any sort of help to anyone who needs it, good? In other words, is assistance at all levels worthwhile or should I continue to find the poorest or most exploited people to donate my time and efforts to? Will that just leave me burnt out by the age of 25? It’s a discussion that came up again between Mike and I on our drive home from the park. We drove through some of the most destitute areas in the world, where the villages lived entirely off of the land, with perhaps no monetary income. Yet we had to wonder, what sorts of things could we even donate to these villages that would be helpful? They didn’t have fancy things, but they had food and water and a nearby hospital funded by the Clinton Foundation and run by Partners in Health, which is more than we are able to say about areas of our own country. Parts of my own birthplace of New Orleans are still completely uninhabitable, and nothing is being done about it; meanwhile, our own government has established a huge USAid facility just down the road from our house in Kigali. It provokes the question everyone asked when I told them I was going to Africa- "Why are you helping there when so many people in your own country need help?" I'm not by any means saying that we should not be giving as much money as we do to Rwanda, but how is it that we can afford to do so, yet an entire major city is still in shambles after almost 3 years? Part of the reason is probably the guilt the US feels for not acting in the 1994 genocide, but how long will it take before they take responsibility for their inaction after Katrina? It makes me so angry to think about, and even a bit guilty for not pursuing a job in New Orleans as I had previously said I would do upon graduation.
I don't even know the point I am trying to convey with this post, so I'm sorry if I've just confused everyone who read it. I just needed to try to express what I am thinking and feeling, in the hope that it would help me figure out some answers. That's a negative.
xoSteph
Mutware
This weekend we ventured out east to Akagera National Park with Mireille, her Belgian co-worker (another teacher at L’Ecole Belge) Sarah, and Olivier, our driver who is also Sarah’s friend and a native Rwandan. It was nice to see so much of the country so early in our trip, and none of the others with us had ever been to the park either, so it was a new experience for all. It was by far one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen (pictures will be posted shortly) and we saw so many amazing animals, but one of the craziest things I’ll remember was “Mutware.”
Our guide, Charles, told us that there are only 80 elephants in the park, which spans the entire eastern border of Rwanda and Tanzania, and that they are shy animals so we probably would not see any, but he would try. He knew where this lonely male elephant, named “Mutware” (meaning “authority” or “chief”) usually stayed, and had us venture there. We didn’t know much of this, only that we were looking for any elephants we could find, so we were super-psyched to see Mutware from far away. He began to move closer, so I videotaped while others took photos, until Mireille and I realized, almost simultaneously, that he did not seem happy. Olivier did not want to drive away, and it wasn’t until Mutware was within 10 feet of our car that we realized he wasn’t going to stop. Olivier started to drive, but perhaps did not quite realize the consequences of having an angry elephant chase you, because he stopped again to look back. Mutware kept running and came within mere feet of our car before disappearing into the bush. We booked it for at least a mile until Charles assured us we were safer, and drove for about five more miles until he said we could stop to eat without Mutware being able to find us.
For anyone who remembers my story about being charged by a rhino while in South Africa, this may have been even scarier because while the rhino was charging at us just to scare us away to protect her young, this elephant seemed to really want to hurt us. It wasn’t until later that Charles told us that a few years ago, a group of French women got out of their car to take pictures from far away when Mutware charged at full speed, barely giving them enough time to get back in their car and not giving them enough time to drive away. He picked up the car and flipped it completely upside-down, and would have continued to do damage if some park rangers had not been nearby to distract him. Luckily, no one was killed or seriously injured, but military personnel were flown in to tranquilize him. Since then, he has attacked at least once a year and the guides are not s This weekend we ventured out east to Akagera National Park with Mireille, her Belgian co-worker (another teacher at L’Ecole Belge) Sarah, and Olivier, our driver who is also Sarah’s friend and a native Rwandan. It was nice to see so much of the country so early in our trip, and none of the others with us had ever been to the park either, so it was a new experience for all. It was by far one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen (pictures will be posted shortly) and we saw so many amazing animals, but one of the craziest things I’ll remember was “Mutware.”
Our guide, Charles, told us that there are only 80 elephants in the park, which spans the entire eastern border of Rwanda and Tanzania, and that they are shy animals so we probably would not see any, but he would try. He knew where this lonely male elephant, named “Mutware” (meaning “authority” or “chief”) usually stayed, and had us venture there. We didn’t know much of this, only that we were looking for any elephants we could find, so we were super-psyched to see Mutware from far away. He began to move closer, so I videotaped while others took photos, until Mireille and I realized, almost simultaneously, that he did not seem happy. Olivier did not want to drive away, and it wasn’t until Mutware was within 10 feet of our car that we realized he wasn’t going to stop. Olivier started to drive, but perhaps did not quite realize the consequences of having an angry elephant chase you, because he stopped again to look back. Mutware kept running and came within mere feet of our car before disappearing into the bush. We booked it for at least a mile until Charles assured us we were safer, and drove for about five more miles until he said we could stop to eat without Mutware being able to find us.
For anyone who remembers my story about being charged by a rhino while in South Africa, this may have been even scarier because while the rhino was charging at us just to scare us away to protect her young, this elephant seemed to really want to hurt us. It wasn’t until later that Charles told us that a few years ago, a group of French women got out of their car to take pictures from far away when Mutware charged at full speed, barely giving them enough time to get back in their car and not giving them enough time to drive away. He picked up the car and flipped it completely upside-down, and would have continued to do damage if some park rangers had not been nearby to distract him. Luckily, no one was killed or seriously injured, but military personnel were flown in to tranquilize him. Since then, he has attacked at least once a year and the guides are not supposed to take tourists near him anymore, but Charles did anyway. Thanks, Charles.
**As I am writing this, though, Mike realized that he has accidentally taped over the prime video of the elephant charging and us screaming, so you can just get a quick glimpse of how close he got. Needless to say, we are not too happy with Mike right now, and he is not too happy with himself.
Our guide, Charles, told us that there are only 80 elephants in the park, which spans the entire eastern border of Rwanda and Tanzania, and that they are shy animals so we probably would not see any, but he would try. He knew where this lonely male elephant, named “Mutware” (meaning “authority” or “chief”) usually stayed, and had us venture there. We didn’t know much of this, only that we were looking for any elephants we could find, so we were super-psyched to see Mutware from far away. He began to move closer, so I videotaped while others took photos, until Mireille and I realized, almost simultaneously, that he did not seem happy. Olivier did not want to drive away, and it wasn’t until Mutware was within 10 feet of our car that we realized he wasn’t going to stop. Olivier started to drive, but perhaps did not quite realize the consequences of having an angry elephant chase you, because he stopped again to look back. Mutware kept running and came within mere feet of our car before disappearing into the bush. We booked it for at least a mile until Charles assured us we were safer, and drove for about five more miles until he said we could stop to eat without Mutware being able to find us.
For anyone who remembers my story about being charged by a rhino while in South Africa, this may have been even scarier because while the rhino was charging at us just to scare us away to protect her young, this elephant seemed to really want to hurt us. It wasn’t until later that Charles told us that a few years ago, a group of French women got out of their car to take pictures from far away when Mutware charged at full speed, barely giving them enough time to get back in their car and not giving them enough time to drive away. He picked up the car and flipped it completely upside-down, and would have continued to do damage if some park rangers had not been nearby to distract him. Luckily, no one was killed or seriously injured, but military personnel were flown in to tranquilize him. Since then, he has attacked at least once a year and the guides are not s This weekend we ventured out east to Akagera National Park with Mireille, her Belgian co-worker (another teacher at L’Ecole Belge) Sarah, and Olivier, our driver who is also Sarah’s friend and a native Rwandan. It was nice to see so much of the country so early in our trip, and none of the others with us had ever been to the park either, so it was a new experience for all. It was by far one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen (pictures will be posted shortly) and we saw so many amazing animals, but one of the craziest things I’ll remember was “Mutware.”
Our guide, Charles, told us that there are only 80 elephants in the park, which spans the entire eastern border of Rwanda and Tanzania, and that they are shy animals so we probably would not see any, but he would try. He knew where this lonely male elephant, named “Mutware” (meaning “authority” or “chief”) usually stayed, and had us venture there. We didn’t know much of this, only that we were looking for any elephants we could find, so we were super-psyched to see Mutware from far away. He began to move closer, so I videotaped while others took photos, until Mireille and I realized, almost simultaneously, that he did not seem happy. Olivier did not want to drive away, and it wasn’t until Mutware was within 10 feet of our car that we realized he wasn’t going to stop. Olivier started to drive, but perhaps did not quite realize the consequences of having an angry elephant chase you, because he stopped again to look back. Mutware kept running and came within mere feet of our car before disappearing into the bush. We booked it for at least a mile until Charles assured us we were safer, and drove for about five more miles until he said we could stop to eat without Mutware being able to find us.
For anyone who remembers my story about being charged by a rhino while in South Africa, this may have been even scarier because while the rhino was charging at us just to scare us away to protect her young, this elephant seemed to really want to hurt us. It wasn’t until later that Charles told us that a few years ago, a group of French women got out of their car to take pictures from far away when Mutware charged at full speed, barely giving them enough time to get back in their car and not giving them enough time to drive away. He picked up the car and flipped it completely upside-down, and would have continued to do damage if some park rangers had not been nearby to distract him. Luckily, no one was killed or seriously injured, but military personnel were flown in to tranquilize him. Since then, he has attacked at least once a year and the guides are not supposed to take tourists near him anymore, but Charles did anyway. Thanks, Charles.
**As I am writing this, though, Mike realized that he has accidentally taped over the prime video of the elephant charging and us screaming, so you can just get a quick glimpse of how close he got. Needless to say, we are not too happy with Mike right now, and he is not too happy with himself.
What are we doing?
Friday June 6th ish
Steph and I spent a large part of our day wondering if what we are doing here is going to make a difference. Not even make “a difference” but have any sort of impact at all. It is hard for us to fully understand the structure of Never Again Rwanda (NAR) and their Youth Clubs (YC), but we are trying to get a handle of it. Our understanding the dynamic of NAR and the YC is imperative if we are to be successful in our work here.
We were kind of freaking out about it in the early part of the day. Thinking if NAR is so unorganized, and it seems that there is a rather large disconnect between NAR and the YC, how effective will our creation of a Human Rights curriculum actually be. Perhaps our time would be better spent focusing on a different task.
We spoke with the two other interns who are here from
A little background: It seems as though there are 30 YC throughout
We finally met with Dr. Joseph, the man who we were speaking with before we came to
After the conversation we started to feel a little better about ourselves and our work here. We are reminded that it is very important that we visit the YC and we make a mental note to make sure we speak with whomever we need to, to see that we accomplish that mission.
We start to work on the curriculum and outline what we want/need to put in it. Like I said earlier, we are going to be making two different versions of the curriculum/guide so we have to think a little differently for both but it shouldn’t be too hard. The other idea we had was to create another two versions, one for secondary schools or kids of that age and another for use in the universities. Our plan is to create a document that can be read by both age groups easily and if there is time add in some more complex/in depth information for the university level.
Once we started working we were on a role, banging out ideas. Too bad it was 5:15 by the time we got a jolt of creativity because we had to leave shortly after. We hope our drive will stay with us the remaining time we have here in
Friday, June 6, 2008
What we are doing...
Haven’t written in a few days so I will try to just jot down some quick stories, funny things that happened etc.
We finalized what we would be working on during our time here in
We are also going to work separately on different projects. Steph is going to work with the girls and try and get a sense of their involvement in the clubs and more generally in
I am supposed to work with another intern who just arrived today, (Friday) from
Correction (possibly). The piece above about me working with the other intern with the youth who are the heads of their family, may not happen since we just learned today that she is planning on working in an orphanage and using NAR as a hub instead of being an actual intern here. Who knows what will end up happening…
On another note, it has rained every day since we have arrived. Sometimes it rains at night when we are already back at our house and not planning on leaving. Other days it has rained midday, and made us grab a mini-bus instead of walk. The rain here is crazy. When it does rain, its the kind of rain at home that makes you go HOLY CRAP!!! but that is how it rains here normally apparently. It is supposed to be the dry season now (or at least not the rainy season). I wonder what it is like to be here during the rainy months.Another quick story:
Yesterday (Thursday), Solomon, the "house boy" (he cooks for us and cleans up at NAR), came running in saying "Do you like Rwandan music?". So we followed him outside and he opened the gate and in came a man carrying a guitar and his assistant carrying a car battery, amp, and a speaker that was modified out of a plastic jerry can (very cool design). They were followed by a huge crowd of people who you would think were there to hear the music too but they were just there to look at the Muzungus. And the whole time they were there, that's exactly what they did.
As the guitarist was setting up his stuff Solomon says in broken English that the guitarist's eyes don't work, aka that he is blind. Nonetheless, he was amazing. He was able to set up his amp, tune his guitar & mic, and play with ease. His fingers moved so fast and he sang beautifully. He sang two songs and Steph got some pics of him and a lil video, so we will be sure to post them (pending the internet allows it).
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Updates
Hi all,
Just wanted to point out something. On the right side of the screen there is a section called "Sites of Interest". If you haven't seen it yet look there now. NOW! ok any way there are 4 links so far (maybe more to come):
Our Picture Site - I made a site on Shutterfly to post our pics, it is kind of hard to do since the internet connection is SOOO slow here, but I will try my best. It is a work in progress and is no where near finished there are pics that we didn't take on the top and what not but we will fill them soon. There are some pics of our house though, so you can see where we are staying.
Google Map of Where We Are - I made a google map that has little icons for different places of interest and stuff. If you look there is a yellow house icon, that is where our house is (we are pretty sure at least). We are staying in Nyamirambo - a suburb of Kigali in a poorish area where we (Steph, Mireille and I) are the only white people. It is big difference from the other interns who are staying in a hotel in the city center, but it definitely allows us to see how the people live and provides us with an opportunity to live with them.
Never Again Rwanda - the website for the organization where we are volunteering.
What time is it in Rwanda??? - a cool site that tells you what time it is here. If you plan on calling or what not, it is helpful to know what time it is.
I am hoping to write tonight and then post some tomorrow, I didn't get a chance last night I was soo tired I pretty much ate and passed out, its hard operating only on carbs and no protein.
BTW you all can post comments to the blog, you don't have to be a member or anything. We read them all. So to those who have posted, thanks for your comments :).
Just wanted to point out something. On the right side of the screen there is a section called "Sites of Interest". If you haven't seen it yet look there now. NOW! ok any way there are 4 links so far (maybe more to come):
Our Picture Site - I made a site on Shutterfly to post our pics, it is kind of hard to do since the internet connection is SOOO slow here, but I will try my best. It is a work in progress and is no where near finished there are pics that we didn't take on the top and what not but we will fill them soon. There are some pics of our house though, so you can see where we are staying.
Google Map of Where We Are - I made a google map that has little icons for different places of interest and stuff. If you look there is a yellow house icon, that is where our house is (we are pretty sure at least). We are staying in Nyamirambo - a suburb of Kigali in a poorish area where we (Steph, Mireille and I) are the only white people. It is big difference from the other interns who are staying in a hotel in the city center, but it definitely allows us to see how the people live and provides us with an opportunity to live with them.
Never Again Rwanda - the website for the organization where we are volunteering.
What time is it in Rwanda??? - a cool site that tells you what time it is here. If you plan on calling or what not, it is helpful to know what time it is.
I am hoping to write tonight and then post some tomorrow, I didn't get a chance last night I was soo tired I pretty much ate and passed out, its hard operating only on carbs and no protein.
BTW you all can post comments to the blog, you don't have to be a member or anything. We read them all. So to those who have posted, thanks for your comments :).
Outsiders, great book, good movie, not a great feeling
June 3, 2008
I’m not going to go into a whole thing about our house but it is very quaint. I plan on posting some pictures/videos of where we are staying so you can get a feel for where we are.
Arriving here last night with none of our luggage was not that fun. After eating some cold goat cheese pizza that Mireille brought us (not as good as cold
I woke up in the morning before Steph and really couldn’t get back to bed. She kept waking up here and there but I was so bored, didn’t know what to do with myself. Eventually I took out my laptop played around for a bit and then started reading our guide book. Eventually Steph got up and we started to plan out, in our heads, what we should do once we get settled in.
After a number of hours and debating back and forth we decided to venture out past our womb-like surroundings. We walk out the back door and see a young girl doing some work in the shed. She immediately gets up and greets us hello. We shake hands and Steph starts to explain who we are. The girl seems bewildered and confused. We can only assume that she does not understand a word of what we are saying. So we wave goodbye and proceed toward the gate. She follows us to the gate and lets us out. Here we are…in
The first thing we notice is how the dirt/clay road leading to the compound is not so much a road but a very rocky, very uneven, riddled with holes path that people and cars can travel on, but if the car is too low it bottoms out sometimes and you have to take it slow.
To our left there are two little boys playing with a tire. One of them, as soon as he sees us, stops what he is doing and is frozen for a brief moment before he runs over as fast as he can, arms flailing and gives me a big hug around my legs. I hug him back and he quickly lets go and hugs Steph. It was so sweet. Then we begin our walk down the long, winding, hilly road our house is situated on towards the neighborhood and main roads. The whole time people are staring at us. Not sure if it is because we are new faces in a neighborhood which seems to be pretty tight nit or if it is because we are THE ONLY white faces, or a combination of the two. Let me stress this point, we were THE ONLY white people that were there the whole time we were walking around.
The sheer shock of us realizing that, “ha, we are um…a little out of place here”, was a little overwhelming. I have felt like an outsider before, but never like this. We walked to the end of the block, kind of scoping out the place; getting a feel for our surroundings, the people, the shops, the crazy drivers, the motos (scooter/motorcycles that are like taxis for one person).
All of a sudden images of 1994
Soon after a pickup truck drives by with about 10 men in the back, all wearing pink jumpsuits (not really jumpsuits, they look more like pink scrubs). I say aloud “wow”. Steph asks what? I respond, “Those men are prisoners, the pink outfit is their prison uniform”. Now I start to think to myself, I wonder if any of these men are genocidaire? Did they confess at Gacaca?
Gacaca courts are traditional court system set up to try individuals who committed crimes during the genocide. Since there were so many individuals guilty of various crimes, there was no way that the modern court system could handle that kind of volume. So for lesser offenses, aka the individuals who did not organize but took part in the killings, beatings, rapes, they are brought before these Gacaca courts and tried in public. This community justice system or justice on the grass as it is sometimes referred to, is a much more efficient way of hearing testimony of the accused, witness testimony and then making a deliberation. The majority of the guilty do not serve normal sentences for the crimes they committed but usually a form of community service in conjunction with shorter jail sentence or no jail time at all. Again due to the sheer volume of perpetrators, it is not feasible to lock up all guilty parties.
You can search for more information about this court system, in my opinion one of the most interesting pieces of the post-genocide
I’ll write again soon,
-- Mike
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