These last three weeks have been full of ups and downs. Ill only mention the pros, since I feel somewhat obligated to keep this blog as upbeat as possible.
I started taking karate/kung fu lessons. I actually like it a lot. It's only 2 days a week, for about 2 hours, and it's really fun. I was so damn sore after the first class, but that actually makes me happy-- it means it's a real workout. I might at some point also take dance lessons here if I can. For know, karate is enough, because it fits perfectly with my schedule. I'm the only female in the class so far, but the teacher doesnt treat me any differently which im very happy about. As a result, im also getting to expand my Kinyarwandan vocabulary.
I had an interview with a small local English paper call Focus, and the girl I interviewed with also wants to interview the pastor i work for, which is good because that means he has an opportunity to get the name of his organization out. He told me he's happy about the publicity. I also set up a meeting with the manager of Cards From Africa to see if our organisation can work with his (we have a group of women who make cards and are trying to find an international market). Hopefully this is a sign that i'm doing at least a halfway decent job.
Im also looking forward to IST (in service training), as well as my 2 week trip to France directly afterwards. Going back to teaching might be a little weird, but im looking forward to doing literature with my students. Hopefully it wont be over their heads.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
4th of July and the Pastor's Return
So, this is my first 4th of July in a long time that was spent outside of the U.S. However, I spent it at the American Embassy, which is considered US territory, so I guess technically this is no exception.
My weekend was pretty crappy, mostly due to personal reasons I wont divulge. Lets just say Im not jumping up and down for joy right now.
My original weekend plans were to go to Kibuye and take a boat out to Amahoro Island to camp out for the night with 5 other PCVs. However, when I went out to dinner Friday night, I realized while I was paying the bill that I only had 10,000 RWF, which wouldnt be enough to cover the travel and all the expenses for the weekend. The banks would be closed on Saturday, the next day because 4th of July is also Rwandan Independence Day. Of course, all the banks are also closed on Sunday. I knew that borrowing money from others was a possibility, but I didnt want to take the risk of getting stranded over there, and not being able to return to my house until Monday. Instead, I stayed in Kigali and went to a function that the U.S. embassy was putting on. It wasnt exactly what I had expected, but I got to see a lot of people which was nice. I listened to the Ambassador speak, ate food, and thats pretty much it. THe function was only a short afternoon thing, so there werent any fireworks or anything.
Today, I woke up bright and early, went to the bank, and then took 2 buses to go to the airport to meet the pastor I work for, who has been in America since early May. I hadnt been to the airport since I first arrived in Rwanda, and at that point it was nightime and I was so groggy I really wasnt all that aware of our surroundings. So I got to see the airport in the daytime, and I realized how small it really was for an international airport. Im so used to LAX and CDG airports. While I waited for the pastor and his wife to land, I chatted it up with his family and some members of his congregation who had come to greet him. I realized, waiting there, how emotional it must be for them to return to their home after so long, especially for the pastors wife, who has never been to America. She had tears in her eyes as she hugged her sons and various friends. I think seeing my parents when i arrive at the airport in Paris will be very emotional for me. I left America over 5 months ago. I think thats the longest Ive ever gone without seeing my parents. After the two weeks in Paris are up, I wont see my parents for an entire year, since they plan on coming to Rwanda summer 2010. I seriously cant wait to see them. I think a lot of us PCVs are going through a low period right now. I spoke to an RPVC when I was at the embassy function and she told me that the first few months are the hardest. I hope shes right.
My weekend was pretty crappy, mostly due to personal reasons I wont divulge. Lets just say Im not jumping up and down for joy right now.
My original weekend plans were to go to Kibuye and take a boat out to Amahoro Island to camp out for the night with 5 other PCVs. However, when I went out to dinner Friday night, I realized while I was paying the bill that I only had 10,000 RWF, which wouldnt be enough to cover the travel and all the expenses for the weekend. The banks would be closed on Saturday, the next day because 4th of July is also Rwandan Independence Day. Of course, all the banks are also closed on Sunday. I knew that borrowing money from others was a possibility, but I didnt want to take the risk of getting stranded over there, and not being able to return to my house until Monday. Instead, I stayed in Kigali and went to a function that the U.S. embassy was putting on. It wasnt exactly what I had expected, but I got to see a lot of people which was nice. I listened to the Ambassador speak, ate food, and thats pretty much it. THe function was only a short afternoon thing, so there werent any fireworks or anything.
Today, I woke up bright and early, went to the bank, and then took 2 buses to go to the airport to meet the pastor I work for, who has been in America since early May. I hadnt been to the airport since I first arrived in Rwanda, and at that point it was nightime and I was so groggy I really wasnt all that aware of our surroundings. So I got to see the airport in the daytime, and I realized how small it really was for an international airport. Im so used to LAX and CDG airports. While I waited for the pastor and his wife to land, I chatted it up with his family and some members of his congregation who had come to greet him. I realized, waiting there, how emotional it must be for them to return to their home after so long, especially for the pastors wife, who has never been to America. She had tears in her eyes as she hugged her sons and various friends. I think seeing my parents when i arrive at the airport in Paris will be very emotional for me. I left America over 5 months ago. I think thats the longest Ive ever gone without seeing my parents. After the two weeks in Paris are up, I wont see my parents for an entire year, since they plan on coming to Rwanda summer 2010. I seriously cant wait to see them. I think a lot of us PCVs are going through a low period right now. I spoke to an RPVC when I was at the embassy function and she told me that the first few months are the hardest. I hope shes right.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Kwita Izina (the Gorilla Naming Ceremony)
So I got the opportunity to go to Musanze to see the Gorilla naming ceremony, which is a huge event in Rwanda. After all, Rwanda is famous for two things-- the G word (that I don't need to mention), and the mountain gorillas that Diane Fossey studied. It was the 5th annual gorilla naming ceremony (it's the 5th annual everything here-- 5th annual amahoro week, 5th annual film festival, and 5th annual Kwita Izina).
I didn't really know what to expect, but it was pretty fun. We didn't get to see any actual gorillas, but we did get to see people dressed in gorilla costumes, which I promise isn't as lame as it sounds. There were a lot of them, even young children dressed as baby gorillas, and they acted really well, banging on their chests and making gorilla noises as they crawled across the lawn. They interacted pretty well with the people.
So there were A LOT of performances, which I'm happy to say heavily outnumbered speeches, thought the speeches were good. Paul Kagame was not there as I'd hoped he'd be, but the prime minister was.
Some of the performances were exceptionally good, especially the traditional dance groups and a group of middle school aged drummer girls.
So each year, the government picks people who they feel have had a positive influence on the country to name the baby gorillas of Virunga National Park. This year there were 14, so 14 "special guests" got to name them-- one of whom was a former student of Diane Fossey. Another was a musician from South Africa. None were people I'd heard of.
There were definately some big names in attendance, which of course included the prime minister, the American ambassador to Rwanda, Jack Hanna from the Discovery Channel, and a bunch of NGOs.
When the ceremony ended, we waited in line to eat under a large group of tents. I couldn't really see much of inside, due to the fact that we were pretty far back in a long line. However, a person who I assume was working the event spotted us in line and told us to skip the line and come right in, so we did. We not only got our own table, but we got tons of very good food (all the food and drinks there were free for everyone). I felt a little guilty that we didnt' wait in line, but I couldn't help but savor the wine, meet, and delicious rasberry pastires we got to eat.
All in all, it was a really fun event and a really good oppotunity to meet a lot of important people. However, I feel a need to mention a few other things (I'm always critiquing things, I can't help it).
The people attending the ceremony were a certain crowd. Diplomats, ex-pats, rich poeple who'd flown into Rwanda for the event, NGOs, and upper class Rwandans. The people on the other side of the fence, who got to watch the performances but mostly saw the performers and the speakers backs, were the "real" population of Rwanda-- the ones without shoes or in sandals, the ones with old clothing. There were so many of them, and they had to stand the entire time to see anything. I wonder how all that works, exactly. I mean, tickets to the event are free, they can be aquired from a website, but they don't necessarily check tickets at the door. It's kind of like when you go to a club, and the bouncer doesn't necesarilly care if you pay or not, as long as you portray a certain image. On the one hand, I know most people in Rwanda probably don't have access or don't know how to use internet, and therefore didn't have the connections to get tickets, but I can say with some confidence that it's also the guard's way of keeping certain people out of the event, worried that they'll cause a rucus and disturb people of quality. That made me feel a little uncomfortable, like I was turning my nose up at people, which is something I'm sure all of us do when we live in or visit a developing country. I was really happy when one of the people who had been chosen to name a gorilla turned around and faced the crowd of people, and told them "this event is for you". I was also pleased that the prime minister took a significant amount of time as he exited the event to talk to and shake hands with the people on "the other side" of the fence. At some point, the guards must have gotten more relaxed or the crowd went wild, because towards the end of our meal (when I think they were encouraging us to leave), a large part of the crowd behind the fence came in and stormed through the dining area and all around, taking food and collecting empty bottles. They were chased away, btu of course, I was left feeling a little guilty and awkward.
I would still say that Kwita Izina is a great event, and I look forward to attending it next year.
I didn't really know what to expect, but it was pretty fun. We didn't get to see any actual gorillas, but we did get to see people dressed in gorilla costumes, which I promise isn't as lame as it sounds. There were a lot of them, even young children dressed as baby gorillas, and they acted really well, banging on their chests and making gorilla noises as they crawled across the lawn. They interacted pretty well with the people.
So there were A LOT of performances, which I'm happy to say heavily outnumbered speeches, thought the speeches were good. Paul Kagame was not there as I'd hoped he'd be, but the prime minister was.
Some of the performances were exceptionally good, especially the traditional dance groups and a group of middle school aged drummer girls.
So each year, the government picks people who they feel have had a positive influence on the country to name the baby gorillas of Virunga National Park. This year there were 14, so 14 "special guests" got to name them-- one of whom was a former student of Diane Fossey. Another was a musician from South Africa. None were people I'd heard of.
There were definately some big names in attendance, which of course included the prime minister, the American ambassador to Rwanda, Jack Hanna from the Discovery Channel, and a bunch of NGOs.
When the ceremony ended, we waited in line to eat under a large group of tents. I couldn't really see much of inside, due to the fact that we were pretty far back in a long line. However, a person who I assume was working the event spotted us in line and told us to skip the line and come right in, so we did. We not only got our own table, but we got tons of very good food (all the food and drinks there were free for everyone). I felt a little guilty that we didnt' wait in line, but I couldn't help but savor the wine, meet, and delicious rasberry pastires we got to eat.
All in all, it was a really fun event and a really good oppotunity to meet a lot of important people. However, I feel a need to mention a few other things (I'm always critiquing things, I can't help it).
The people attending the ceremony were a certain crowd. Diplomats, ex-pats, rich poeple who'd flown into Rwanda for the event, NGOs, and upper class Rwandans. The people on the other side of the fence, who got to watch the performances but mostly saw the performers and the speakers backs, were the "real" population of Rwanda-- the ones without shoes or in sandals, the ones with old clothing. There were so many of them, and they had to stand the entire time to see anything. I wonder how all that works, exactly. I mean, tickets to the event are free, they can be aquired from a website, but they don't necessarily check tickets at the door. It's kind of like when you go to a club, and the bouncer doesn't necesarilly care if you pay or not, as long as you portray a certain image. On the one hand, I know most people in Rwanda probably don't have access or don't know how to use internet, and therefore didn't have the connections to get tickets, but I can say with some confidence that it's also the guard's way of keeping certain people out of the event, worried that they'll cause a rucus and disturb people of quality. That made me feel a little uncomfortable, like I was turning my nose up at people, which is something I'm sure all of us do when we live in or visit a developing country. I was really happy when one of the people who had been chosen to name a gorilla turned around and faced the crowd of people, and told them "this event is for you". I was also pleased that the prime minister took a significant amount of time as he exited the event to talk to and shake hands with the people on "the other side" of the fence. At some point, the guards must have gotten more relaxed or the crowd went wild, because towards the end of our meal (when I think they were encouraging us to leave), a large part of the crowd behind the fence came in and stormed through the dining area and all around, taking food and collecting empty bottles. They were chased away, btu of course, I was left feeling a little guilty and awkward.
I would still say that Kwita Izina is a great event, and I look forward to attending it next year.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Marathon
Kay, so im way late on this, but here it is: the marathon.
So this year marks the fifth annual Amahoro week in Rwanda. Amahoro means peace in Kinyarwanda. The entire week is dedicated to ending violence and other injustices. It includes several eents, one of which is a marathon that I along with 5 other PCVs participated in. This event is huge-- UNICEF, USAID, and Women for Women are just a fe of the organisations that sponsor this event.
On Saturday, I attended an avent by the stadium which turned out to be all about saying no to cross generational sex. Apparently, its very common here in Rwanda for economially disadvantaged youn girls to turn to Sugar Daddys to help them out with school fees, phones, clothes, etc. Ive heard this from several sources.
The people in the audience mostly included school children who were their with their classes, as a sort of field trip. There were also some representatives from various organisations who were there to show support or make speeches. They passed out bottles of water (thank god-- its so hot in Kigali and water is a serious problem), as well as orange bracelets that said "not for sale" (in kinyarwanda of course) as well as posters that said Oya Shuga Daddi and Oya Shuga Mami. I like their choice of spelling. The pictures on them were pretty cheezy and contrived, it made me laugh, but I still plan on hanging them somewhere in my house. The same pictures are shown on billboards all over Rwanda.
The event included:
1. Performances by Rwandan singers and rappers whose songs I've grown to become very familiar with (there are only so many famous and successful singers/rappers in Rwanda)
2. Speeches by representatives of various organizations (such as USAID)
3. Two plays about "shuga daddi" and "shuga mami"
Overall, I was happy to have witnessed such an event. At the same time, I couldn't help but wonder if this event was catering to the right audience. Most of the people in the audience were schoolchildren, but from what I could tell, they were schoolchildren from well to do schools (which makes sence, which schools can afford to go on field trips? Not to mention Amahoro Stadium is in a better part of Kigali, far away from a rural place like the school I teach at). The children who go to these schools, are they really the ones who are all that susceptable to turning to sugar daddys and sugar mommas for financial help? I guess that's the problem with organizations that try to change things in general-- the people who are the most vulnerable are the ones who are the least reachable. The kids who need the most help are the least visable-- they're not going to school, or going but with very poor attendance. The schools they go to are far away from NGOs, and the schools they attend don't necesarilly have the money for extra curriculars.
The next day, we woke up early and split a cab ride to Amahoro Stadium for the run. It was a really potitive feeling-- being there with so many different people with so much energy. We really felt like something was happening. There were 6 of us PCVs all together, but only two of us had signed up for the half marathon, the rest of us had signed up for the 5K. However, we missed the 5 K, since when we saw the first group of runners lining up, it was a group of mostly children and senior citizens. We figured it was some kind of "special kid race". I'm actually glad we missed it-- to be perfectly honest running with just kids and a few people who are older than my parents would have hurt my pride a little. So instead, we lined up and ran with the half marathoners-- but only ran half of that, so basically, we ran about 10K. Even though that's not a huge distance, I'm still proud of myself for having been able to run like that, especially since I've barely done any kind of excercise beside walking up and down my mountain (and everywhere else) everyday. Not the same as hard cardio. And hey-- I got a free shirt out of it! Yay
So this year marks the fifth annual Amahoro week in Rwanda. Amahoro means peace in Kinyarwanda. The entire week is dedicated to ending violence and other injustices. It includes several eents, one of which is a marathon that I along with 5 other PCVs participated in. This event is huge-- UNICEF, USAID, and Women for Women are just a fe of the organisations that sponsor this event.
On Saturday, I attended an avent by the stadium which turned out to be all about saying no to cross generational sex. Apparently, its very common here in Rwanda for economially disadvantaged youn girls to turn to Sugar Daddys to help them out with school fees, phones, clothes, etc. Ive heard this from several sources.
The people in the audience mostly included school children who were their with their classes, as a sort of field trip. There were also some representatives from various organisations who were there to show support or make speeches. They passed out bottles of water (thank god-- its so hot in Kigali and water is a serious problem), as well as orange bracelets that said "not for sale" (in kinyarwanda of course) as well as posters that said Oya Shuga Daddi and Oya Shuga Mami. I like their choice of spelling. The pictures on them were pretty cheezy and contrived, it made me laugh, but I still plan on hanging them somewhere in my house. The same pictures are shown on billboards all over Rwanda.
The event included:
1. Performances by Rwandan singers and rappers whose songs I've grown to become very familiar with (there are only so many famous and successful singers/rappers in Rwanda)
2. Speeches by representatives of various organizations (such as USAID)
3. Two plays about "shuga daddi" and "shuga mami"
Overall, I was happy to have witnessed such an event. At the same time, I couldn't help but wonder if this event was catering to the right audience. Most of the people in the audience were schoolchildren, but from what I could tell, they were schoolchildren from well to do schools (which makes sence, which schools can afford to go on field trips? Not to mention Amahoro Stadium is in a better part of Kigali, far away from a rural place like the school I teach at). The children who go to these schools, are they really the ones who are all that susceptable to turning to sugar daddys and sugar mommas for financial help? I guess that's the problem with organizations that try to change things in general-- the people who are the most vulnerable are the ones who are the least reachable. The kids who need the most help are the least visable-- they're not going to school, or going but with very poor attendance. The schools they go to are far away from NGOs, and the schools they attend don't necesarilly have the money for extra curriculars.
The next day, we woke up early and split a cab ride to Amahoro Stadium for the run. It was a really potitive feeling-- being there with so many different people with so much energy. We really felt like something was happening. There were 6 of us PCVs all together, but only two of us had signed up for the half marathon, the rest of us had signed up for the 5K. However, we missed the 5 K, since when we saw the first group of runners lining up, it was a group of mostly children and senior citizens. We figured it was some kind of "special kid race". I'm actually glad we missed it-- to be perfectly honest running with just kids and a few people who are older than my parents would have hurt my pride a little. So instead, we lined up and ran with the half marathoners-- but only ran half of that, so basically, we ran about 10K. Even though that's not a huge distance, I'm still proud of myself for having been able to run like that, especially since I've barely done any kind of excercise beside walking up and down my mountain (and everywhere else) everyday. Not the same as hard cardio. And hey-- I got a free shirt out of it! Yay
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Dry Season
The dry season has begun in Rwanda, and it is apparently much longer than the rainy season. I was really happy about this at first, but now Im starting to realize that the dry season also comes with its fair share of problems.
The upside of it being the dry season is that theres no rain, so people are more apt to leave their houses and do outdoor activities. Walking from point A to point B is much easier and more pleasant. I dont have to worry about putting my clothes out on the line, because I know that they will dry and I can have clean clothes again. I dont have to wear my huge hiking boots on my walk to school, and its easier to plan my day. However, with the dry season comes dust, draught, and really bad heat. I often feel tired and dehydrated. I have running water even more rarely, not just inside my house, but also in this entire area I live in. I pay extra now to get my water fetched, since now people have to walk up the mountain and go all the way to the stadium, and wait in an even longer line for water. I feel especially guilty complaining when I see little children walking up and down the steep and rocky mountain late at night without a flashlight, balancing a jerrican on their heads. Instead of the roads being muddy, now they are dusty, a fact that is literally thrown in my face whenever the wind picks up or a truck rolls by. It gets on our clothes, in our hair and in our eyes. Not fun.
I know Im stating the obvious, but daily life here in Afria is hard, much harder than in Europe or the US, especially for women and kids. Its hilly, the roads are rocky and uneven, and very few people own their own transportation. Most people (myself included) alternate between walking and squeezing into a crowded taxi van. Its 4 asses to a row, and it doesnt matter how big or small the ass sitting on it is. Ive sat next to kids as well as very large people, with one but cheek on someone lap or my face smooshed against the window. The vans also usually smell of BO, but its easily fixed since most people like keeping the windows open. When its evening time or later, getting into a van from town to home is a tricky task. The taxi buses and vans run less often in the eveinings, but more people need them since they are getting off of work, and going home. To get back, you wait on the street with a huge group of people, and when the van arrives, theres no order or line for who gets in first. Basically its every man for himself; everyone runs and pushes and shoves to be able to grab a seat. Its especially difficult for the people trying to get off the van, since people who are so eager to get on block their way. I used to make fun of this event, since it seemed very childish, disorderly, and rude, but now I find myself shoving and elbowing like everyone else. It can be quite painful. FOrtunately, taxi cars lower their prices and cram three or 4 people in, an option i sometimes take if Im carring a lot of things or I just dont have the energy to fight for a place to sit in the van.
What I first noticed about Rwanda was that people, especially women, carry heavy items on their heads instead of over their shoulders. Ive maybe seen one baby stroller the entire time ive been in this country since its not practical. Women carry babies on their backs, EVERYWHERE, when its crowded, hot, and steep. They tie them with a cloth, and sometimes put a cloth over the baby to shade them from the sun. I cant imagine doing all the things I do on a daily basis with some heavy thing on my head and a crying baby tied to my back. Ive almost never seen a man with a baby, and I have NEVER seen a man with a baby tied to his back.
My neighborhood is unusual in that I see women as well as men in bars drinking late at night. In most areas, you see the bars packed with men, and no women in sight, something that seems ironic to an American like me. In the US, this would not be considered a party, it would be considered a sausage fest and a failed party, since bars and clubs do their best to have as many women customers as possible.
The husbands stay out late at night, having fun and relaxing with their friends while the women are expected to stay home, cook, and take care of the kids. Of course this isnt everyone, many women do have careers and a life outside of the home, in fact, Im told that Rwanda has more women in its government than any other African country. However, from what I have observed, the majority of women are not making much money or spending time relaxing with their friends. Theyre breast feading their kids, going to market to buy food, and cooking and taking care of the house. I wonder what I could do to maybe tighten the gender gap here. I would definatly love to do that if I could. Ill think up a project.
The upside of it being the dry season is that theres no rain, so people are more apt to leave their houses and do outdoor activities. Walking from point A to point B is much easier and more pleasant. I dont have to worry about putting my clothes out on the line, because I know that they will dry and I can have clean clothes again. I dont have to wear my huge hiking boots on my walk to school, and its easier to plan my day. However, with the dry season comes dust, draught, and really bad heat. I often feel tired and dehydrated. I have running water even more rarely, not just inside my house, but also in this entire area I live in. I pay extra now to get my water fetched, since now people have to walk up the mountain and go all the way to the stadium, and wait in an even longer line for water. I feel especially guilty complaining when I see little children walking up and down the steep and rocky mountain late at night without a flashlight, balancing a jerrican on their heads. Instead of the roads being muddy, now they are dusty, a fact that is literally thrown in my face whenever the wind picks up or a truck rolls by. It gets on our clothes, in our hair and in our eyes. Not fun.
I know Im stating the obvious, but daily life here in Afria is hard, much harder than in Europe or the US, especially for women and kids. Its hilly, the roads are rocky and uneven, and very few people own their own transportation. Most people (myself included) alternate between walking and squeezing into a crowded taxi van. Its 4 asses to a row, and it doesnt matter how big or small the ass sitting on it is. Ive sat next to kids as well as very large people, with one but cheek on someone lap or my face smooshed against the window. The vans also usually smell of BO, but its easily fixed since most people like keeping the windows open. When its evening time or later, getting into a van from town to home is a tricky task. The taxi buses and vans run less often in the eveinings, but more people need them since they are getting off of work, and going home. To get back, you wait on the street with a huge group of people, and when the van arrives, theres no order or line for who gets in first. Basically its every man for himself; everyone runs and pushes and shoves to be able to grab a seat. Its especially difficult for the people trying to get off the van, since people who are so eager to get on block their way. I used to make fun of this event, since it seemed very childish, disorderly, and rude, but now I find myself shoving and elbowing like everyone else. It can be quite painful. FOrtunately, taxi cars lower their prices and cram three or 4 people in, an option i sometimes take if Im carring a lot of things or I just dont have the energy to fight for a place to sit in the van.
What I first noticed about Rwanda was that people, especially women, carry heavy items on their heads instead of over their shoulders. Ive maybe seen one baby stroller the entire time ive been in this country since its not practical. Women carry babies on their backs, EVERYWHERE, when its crowded, hot, and steep. They tie them with a cloth, and sometimes put a cloth over the baby to shade them from the sun. I cant imagine doing all the things I do on a daily basis with some heavy thing on my head and a crying baby tied to my back. Ive almost never seen a man with a baby, and I have NEVER seen a man with a baby tied to his back.
My neighborhood is unusual in that I see women as well as men in bars drinking late at night. In most areas, you see the bars packed with men, and no women in sight, something that seems ironic to an American like me. In the US, this would not be considered a party, it would be considered a sausage fest and a failed party, since bars and clubs do their best to have as many women customers as possible.
The husbands stay out late at night, having fun and relaxing with their friends while the women are expected to stay home, cook, and take care of the kids. Of course this isnt everyone, many women do have careers and a life outside of the home, in fact, Im told that Rwanda has more women in its government than any other African country. However, from what I have observed, the majority of women are not making much money or spending time relaxing with their friends. Theyre breast feading their kids, going to market to buy food, and cooking and taking care of the house. I wonder what I could do to maybe tighten the gender gap here. I would definatly love to do that if I could. Ill think up a project.
TIA (This is Africa)
So, of course, my life here is full of ups and downs. I knew that thats how it would be before I came here. Today was definately a more down type of day.
I walked to school in the rain and mudwhich took a while and was not fun or easy. I arrive at school to find the class I am supposed to teach in minutes cutting grass with machetes (thats how they cut grass here, since they dont have lawmowers of course). I asked them what the hell was going on, and then I walked into the teachers office to find the principal and a few other teachers there. I asked them why my students were cutting grass instead of sitting in class learning, and I was told that since licensing people were going to come visit the school that day to make sure that the landscaping and whatnot was up to code, and it wasnt, all classes would be canceled so the students could work to clean up the school. I was furious, not only because I had walked for over a half hour in the mud and rain for nothing, but because it goes against my beliefs that children who pay money for school should be doing manual labor during school hours because staff procrastinated on keeping the grass up to code. I asked them why I wasnt informed, and never got a clear answer. I decided to go back home, but talked a little bit with the students. I told them that I did not agree with what was going on, but I quickly realized that this was not the time for me to lead a 1960s rebelious stand up for your rights campaign.
That same day, I ran into a friend of mine who grew up in Africa. When I told him what had gone on that day, he reassured me that asking students to cut grass is very normal here in Africa, and that he did it all the time as a student. Im still not thrilled by this, but I guess its a big lesson for me in terms of cultural differences. I am somewhat relieved to hear that what went on that day wasnt against the rules, and that students expect it. Oh well, I guess i need to open my mind a little more. TIA (This is Africa)
I walked to school in the rain and mudwhich took a while and was not fun or easy. I arrive at school to find the class I am supposed to teach in minutes cutting grass with machetes (thats how they cut grass here, since they dont have lawmowers of course). I asked them what the hell was going on, and then I walked into the teachers office to find the principal and a few other teachers there. I asked them why my students were cutting grass instead of sitting in class learning, and I was told that since licensing people were going to come visit the school that day to make sure that the landscaping and whatnot was up to code, and it wasnt, all classes would be canceled so the students could work to clean up the school. I was furious, not only because I had walked for over a half hour in the mud and rain for nothing, but because it goes against my beliefs that children who pay money for school should be doing manual labor during school hours because staff procrastinated on keeping the grass up to code. I asked them why I wasnt informed, and never got a clear answer. I decided to go back home, but talked a little bit with the students. I told them that I did not agree with what was going on, but I quickly realized that this was not the time for me to lead a 1960s rebelious stand up for your rights campaign.
That same day, I ran into a friend of mine who grew up in Africa. When I told him what had gone on that day, he reassured me that asking students to cut grass is very normal here in Africa, and that he did it all the time as a student. Im still not thrilled by this, but I guess its a big lesson for me in terms of cultural differences. I am somewhat relieved to hear that what went on that day wasnt against the rules, and that students expect it. Oh well, I guess i need to open my mind a little more. TIA (This is Africa)
Snapshot of my life
More literal snapshots to come, I promise. So, anywho, this is my daily life:
Four days a week, I teach at the secondary school that the pastor runs, which is a 30 minutes walk from my house. School starts at 7:30, so i have to leave my house at 7 at the latest if I dont want to be late.
Since I dont usually have running water, I fill up a bucket full of water that I have fetched for me, stored in two yellow jerricans. Since its cold, sometimes I boil it, but I usually dont. After that, I make breakfast which usually consists of either hot cereal or an omelet with bread and jam.
Then I walk to school, on the dusty, rocky road. The path is very bumpy and uneven. I walk uphill for part of the way, and dowhill for part of the way. Its a difficult concept to explain if you cant see it. I dont so much mind the turf when its sunny, but the days when it rains suck balls. Because I have to dress appropriately while I teach, my only pair of formal shoes are definately not suitable for the muddy ground. I had one nightmarish walk one time attepting to walk back in that mud. My shoes were caked with mud and long pieces of grass, and even when i did have the opportunity to wipe it off, it would immediately be there again after taking 3 steps. Not to mention I was slipping and sliding everywhere and almost ate it several times. My shoes would also periodically get stuck in the mud and it would take a lot of effort to get them out. I seriously considered just walking barefoot, but that would have been a really bad idea. That treck only had to happen once before I decided to always come armed with hiking boots for the walk to and from school (the weather here is unpredictable, so you never know), and change into my now torn up formal shoes once I get to school. The students and teachers have caught wind of this ritual of mine, and love to tease me about it. Apparently, people here are used to the roads and can wear the same shoes no matter what the turf is like. Im not so sure I believe that, because I have seen many people slipping and sliding in their flat shoes.
Otherwise, the walk to and from school is fairly pleasant. I pass a lot of houses, and all the kids in the neighborhood know me now, along with their parents. Ive trained them to not ask me for "amafaranga" (money), and to call me Sonia instead of "umuzungu" (white person). I constantly hear my name being called, and I sometimes go up to shake their hands, or hug and pick up the kids. No joke, I often get a big group of kids running towards me chanting "Sonia, Sonia", so they can give me hugs one by one. I hate to let that get to my head, but it really does brighten my day and make me feel welcome. I love kids here, theyre really something else since theyre not spoiled brats, and have had to learn to play without toys. I also run into goats on the road, where they graze and occasionally hump each other.
I teach three computer science classes for the lower levels, Senior 1 to Senior 3. I teach Senior 1 in English, and 2 and 3 in French. For these levels, the curriculum and the tests are made up entirely by the district, so its less effort for me, I just follow a general guideline. Although teaching English is more challenging, I enjoy it more because I feel that its a subject I can get more creative with, and it keeps the students animated. I really like my students. They range in age between about 13 to even 23 (not everyone has the opportunity to start school on time in Africa in general). I like teaching, I dont so much like going home and grading papers, making up lesson plans and tests. Oh vey, that takes a long time.
Four days a week, I teach at the secondary school that the pastor runs, which is a 30 minutes walk from my house. School starts at 7:30, so i have to leave my house at 7 at the latest if I dont want to be late.
Since I dont usually have running water, I fill up a bucket full of water that I have fetched for me, stored in two yellow jerricans. Since its cold, sometimes I boil it, but I usually dont. After that, I make breakfast which usually consists of either hot cereal or an omelet with bread and jam.
Then I walk to school, on the dusty, rocky road. The path is very bumpy and uneven. I walk uphill for part of the way, and dowhill for part of the way. Its a difficult concept to explain if you cant see it. I dont so much mind the turf when its sunny, but the days when it rains suck balls. Because I have to dress appropriately while I teach, my only pair of formal shoes are definately not suitable for the muddy ground. I had one nightmarish walk one time attepting to walk back in that mud. My shoes were caked with mud and long pieces of grass, and even when i did have the opportunity to wipe it off, it would immediately be there again after taking 3 steps. Not to mention I was slipping and sliding everywhere and almost ate it several times. My shoes would also periodically get stuck in the mud and it would take a lot of effort to get them out. I seriously considered just walking barefoot, but that would have been a really bad idea. That treck only had to happen once before I decided to always come armed with hiking boots for the walk to and from school (the weather here is unpredictable, so you never know), and change into my now torn up formal shoes once I get to school. The students and teachers have caught wind of this ritual of mine, and love to tease me about it. Apparently, people here are used to the roads and can wear the same shoes no matter what the turf is like. Im not so sure I believe that, because I have seen many people slipping and sliding in their flat shoes.
Otherwise, the walk to and from school is fairly pleasant. I pass a lot of houses, and all the kids in the neighborhood know me now, along with their parents. Ive trained them to not ask me for "amafaranga" (money), and to call me Sonia instead of "umuzungu" (white person). I constantly hear my name being called, and I sometimes go up to shake their hands, or hug and pick up the kids. No joke, I often get a big group of kids running towards me chanting "Sonia, Sonia", so they can give me hugs one by one. I hate to let that get to my head, but it really does brighten my day and make me feel welcome. I love kids here, theyre really something else since theyre not spoiled brats, and have had to learn to play without toys. I also run into goats on the road, where they graze and occasionally hump each other.
I teach three computer science classes for the lower levels, Senior 1 to Senior 3. I teach Senior 1 in English, and 2 and 3 in French. For these levels, the curriculum and the tests are made up entirely by the district, so its less effort for me, I just follow a general guideline. Although teaching English is more challenging, I enjoy it more because I feel that its a subject I can get more creative with, and it keeps the students animated. I really like my students. They range in age between about 13 to even 23 (not everyone has the opportunity to start school on time in Africa in general). I like teaching, I dont so much like going home and grading papers, making up lesson plans and tests. Oh vey, that takes a long time.
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