Back to Work

After my vacation, I’m really excited to be getting back to work and developing new projects.

The day after I arrived in Kigali, I picked up a MoneyGram from Water Charity, which is funding the project I’m doing at St. Leonard Nursery and Primary School. By the end of this month, water tanks will be installed and people at the school will finally have a place to wash their hands. When staff at Groupe Scolaire Nyagatare, a public school in town, heard about the project at St. Leonard, they immediately asked how they could do the same thing. So, when the first project is completed, we’ll be starting a nearly identical one at that school.

In addition, I’m teaching English classes at St. Leonard this term. I’m only teaching part-time, but I’ll have classes ranging from Primary 3 to Primary 6. As all the teachers are Rwandan and the school’s past volunteers have been German, this will be the first time any of the students have had a native English speaker as a teacher. I hope it will be an opportunity for cultural exchange as well as exposure to relevant topics that aren’t covered in other classes. I’m also excited about the opportunity to gain more teaching experience and to learn more about Rwanda’s education system and education in general. If time allows, I’ll also be teaching part time at Mary Hill Girls’ Secondary School, a brand new school that is still under construction and will begin classes next month.

I’ll also be working more with Dutabare Association, an NGO in a village outside Nyagatare. At the moment, I’m helping them apply for a grant, which will fund a project they’ve designed but don’t have the means to implement. If we get the grant, a group of Dutabare’s beneficiaries will be able to purchase 400 chickens, chicken feed, and veterinary supplies and construct a chicken coop. Then, half of the eggs will be used to feed malnourished children in the area, and the other half will be sold in the market. The income generated from selling the eggs will be used to sustain the project and will also provide a sustainable source of funding for future projects. I’ve been extremely impressed by how professional, dedicated, and innovative the organization’s volunteers are (none of the people who work there get paid), and I’m really excited to work more with them in the future.

Additionally, I’m working on finding funding (or, better yet, a long-term partner) for the Presbyterian Church here. While I’m not as committed to helping them finance a new church building, provide accommodation for pastors, or build new churches in rural areas, I’m very enthusiastic about their idea to build a community center that will house a bookstore, library, and pre-school, offer basic literacy and health classes for adults, and serve as a workspace for cooperatives. I’m also excited about the possibility of funding scholarships for university students. (The government cut the university scholarship program, meaning many of the students who studied in Nyagatare last year will likely be unable to complete their degree.) I’ve just started talking with an interested church at home, so I hope they decide to go ahead with the partnership.

Return to Rwanda

How did so many things here change in the mere four weeks I was gone? MTN has lowered the prices for their wireless Hot Spots in Kigali, and Tigo has lowered the prices for their Internet modems. Meanwhile, Bourbon, Magda, and White Horse all overhauled their menus and raised their prices. (Though Bourbon now has a rolex equivalent, which is awesome – and cheaper than what I used to get there!) Just in Nyagatare, a new shoe store and a little restaurant opened up, a bottled-drinks wholesaler appeared, and the “massage parlor” became a bar. If the definition of develop is “change,” Rwanda is definitely developing!

Anyway, I arrived at the airport last Tuesday night, and found myself without adequate cab fare, no place to exchange money, and a broken ATM. Fortunately, a kind cab driver agreed to accept the combination of $3, 5 Euros, and 2,500 Rwandan francs I had with me – and he let me use his phone!

I spent the next day running errands and relaxing in Kigali. It felt really good to be back, and all I could think about was how it just felt like summer. It was so beautiful. The following day, I made the trip back to Nyagatare – along with my somewhat excessive amount of luggage, which caused a bit of a scene. People here seemed excited to see me again, and it was really nice to be welcomed back.

While I can’t say I don’t miss hot showers, cold water, and American food, the lack of those things is nominal compared to how much the staring has already begun to get somewhat irritating again. The other thing that’s been difficult is getting used to once again living alone and spending a lot of time alone and being away from my family and friends. But, I know a couple weeks are all it will take for those feelings to mostly subside.

Plus, it has been wonderful to see my friends here in Nyagatare, and to give them their gifts from the U.S., which they’ve seemed to really like. My neighbors, Rebecca and Deborah, were really excited by the Bath & Body Works body spray and both cracked up over the little stuffed animals I brought for their babies (Deborah has a four-month-old boy, and Rebecca is due next month). My friend Alex insisted that the watch that “Brian” helped me pick out for him was “a brilliant choice.” I still have a slew of gifts left to distribute, and I hope they are all as well-received. Another plus to being back in Rwanda is that Fanta Orange and Fanta Lemon are awesome – and totally different than in the U.S. In other news, the new school year started here on Monday - meaning all my friends are finally back!

I’m also really happy to get back to work here and really excited about the new projects I’ll be working on. But more on that later – for now I’m just trying to readjust, get settled, and recover from jet lag.

Vacation in America

I’ve been back in Rwanda for a week now, after a nearly month-long trip to the U.S. I’m thrilled I was able to go home for the holidays and see my family and friends, and, while leaving was hard (as it always is), it has been nice to be back.

On December 10^th, I took the three-hour bus ride from Nyagatare to Kigali and met up with fellow Peace Corps Volunteers for coffee at Magda and pizza at Sol e Luna, before heading to Kigali International Airport to catch the red-eye to Amsterdam. As this was my first flight out of Kigali, I didn’t know what to expect at the airport. I was pleasantly surprised by the free and speedy wireless Internet, but the airport was overall less fancy than I would have expected, especially given the number of bazungu in this country. In every developing-country airport I’ve been to (with the possible exception of the one in Dakar, pre-renovation), I’ve been surprised (if not completely shocked!) at how nice they’ve been and how much they’ve had to offer. Bagel shop in San Salvador, McDonald’s in Guatemala City, delicious cafés in Entebbe and Casablanca! But Kigali’s, being more like what you might expect, was small and empty, save for a small bar, a duty-free store, and two souvenir shops (one of which was closed) – all of which, as well as the only bathrooms, were located before security. Speaking of which, I got taken into a private room for a pat-down after I set off the metal detector – first time that’s ever happened!

Anyhow, the plane was nearly empty when we took off, but we picked up the remaining three-quarters or so of Amsterdam-bound passengers about thirty minutes later, when we touched down in Entebbe. The rest of the trip was uneventful, until early the next afternoon. Minneapolis had just been bombarded by a huge snowstorm, effectively shutting down the airport. We circled in the air above the Twin Cities for an hour or so, hoping the airport would re-open, until we had nearly run out of fuel and had to re-route to Detroit. I was annoyed by the consequent five-hour wait in line (as hundreds and hundreds of stranded Delta passengers who had gotten there before me re-booked their flights), and I was disappointed by the realization that I would not be making it home that night. But, I was also relieved to simply blend in and not be stared at, and Delta’s offer of a room at the Hilton Garden and $20 in food vouchers went a long way toward making up for the disappointment. If I couldn’t be with my family, at least I could enjoy hot running water, hi-speed Internet, 30 English-language TV stations, and room service! The next day, following the world’s longest layover in Minneapolis (during which I indulged in a massage, feasted on a bagel, and bought my mom a Christmas gift at The Body Shop), I finally made it to Great Falls. Only about 30 hours late.

During the trip and for the first couple days in Great Falls, the sheer amount of choices was a bit overwhelming. What store should I go to first? What kind of latte do I want? What TV station should I watch? Where do I want to eat? What do I want to order? What book jacket should I read? My shock at the seeming excess of choices wore off fairly quickly, but the pleasure of having them did not.

Being able to understand what everyone said and not being constantly stared at, talked about, judged, or called muzungu was simply glorious. Really. If there’s one thing I was unprepared for coming into the Peace Corps, it’s how much constantly being the center of attention wears on you. I never thought it could become so stressful or irritating, especially since it hasn’t bothered me much during my other experiences in Africa. But, when you’re the only white person around and you deal with it day in and day out for months on end, it just really runs you down. Anyhow, not being a spectacle 24/7 was honestly one of the best things about being in the U.S.

Being really clean was also extremely pleasant. Bucket showers are not nearly as bad as people who haven’t experienced them seem to believe, and they can be downright refreshing. But, nothing gets you feeling clean like hot water shooting with pressure out of a showerhead. Similarly, handwashing clothes isn’t so bad, but nothing beats a washing machine when it comes to level of cleanliness. Tossing them in the dryer afterward is just a bonus. Plus, when roads are paved, dirt doesn’t fall out of the ceiling at random, and dust doesn’t whirl through the air and eventually coat everything, it’s a lot easier to stay clean. My feet were an entirely different color in the U.S. than they have been during the past ten months.

Also exciting was the gym. If I wanted to exercise here, I’d have to go running outside, which honestly would cause a bigger scene than I can begin to describe. Would you want to go for a run through town if every single person dropped what they were doing to watch you, then laughed at you and turned to their friends to talk about you, and half the children started chasing you? Some Volunteers do it, but I am not one of them. With that in mind, being able to exercise in peace was great, as was the presence of ellipticals and weight machines and the option of watching House Hunters and Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations while exercising. Plus, my gym at home has floor-to-ceiling windows on one wall and overlooks a valley that was snow-covered the entire time I was there.

A hodge-podge of other joys: The cell phone network always work, rather than sporadically being “busy” and refusing to allow you to make a call. The Internet is fast – I watched videos online, downloaded countless movies and podasts, and updated all my software. People are on time, and when they said they will do something or be somewhere, they generally mean it. Restaurants – you can assume it won’t take an hour to bring your food, that everything on the menu will actually be available, and that whatever you have will be about the same as it was the last time you had it. Snow is beautiful. Movie theaters are cool (even if How Do You Know? isn’t that great), and movie theater popcorn is delicious.

There’s nothing like being at home for the holidays, and being able to see my family and friends after ten months was truly a blessing. For the most part, things in the U.S. were about what I had been expecting. I think I readjusted really quickly, and after a couple days, it felt like I’d been in the U.S. forever. I was extremely excited about a lot of seemingly mundane things, but I certainly wasn’t unable to cope. Part of that, I think, is that, the more you go back and forth between developed and undeveloped places (including travels from village to capital city as well as from Africa to America), the less each trip shocks you. Since I’ve been going back and forth from Kigali to Nyagatare about once a month all year, and since this was my third time returning home from living in Africa, it wasn’t as shocking as it might have been. Also, Rwanda is frankly not that poor. It’s not that underdeveloped, there’s not that much you can’t find, nobody is that isolated. So, the gap just isn’t as big. Is Bourbon really that different from Starbucks? Is Nakumatt really that different from Albertson’s? Is Belvedere really that different from Greyhound? (Wait, I think it’s nicer than Greyhound, and than most of the planes that fly into Great Falls.) While I was thrilled to have access to the luxuries of America, and I will be thrilled again the next time I have them (and I’ll even be moderately excited the next time I head into Kigali), I don’t want to paint Rwanda, even the rural areas, as some sort of desolate, untamed jungle. Because (while poverty and suffering does exist here), it’s really not.

Stay tuned for reflections on my return to The Land of a Thousand Hills.

Doing Chores

As you can probably imagine, household chores here are a lot different than in the U.S.

Cooking – I eat a lot of bread, peanut butter, oatmeal, and fruit; but, I also do some real cooking over a little kerosene stove. To buy kerosene, I walk into town with an empty 1.5L water bottle and have it filled up at a stall at the market for 1,300F (about $2.50.) I mostly cook pasta (with butter, knock-off Laughing Cow processed cheese, or, every once in awhile, Kraft mac & cheese or other sauce mixes sent from home), couscous (with butter), rice (with soy sauce), and occasional vegetables (mainly onions, carrots, and green peppers). I’ve been keeping an eye out for peas and green beans, but sadly haven’t seen them yet. I have no intention whatsoever of ever trying to cook meat on my own here, but we’ll see if I (wo)man up.

Dishes – I wash dishes by hand and them dump the water outside. To cut down on dishes to wash and thus water use, I typically eat out of a pot or frying pan, and (depending on what I made) I use the water I cooked with to wash it.

Cleaning – I clean by sweeping dirt, dust, dead bugs, and animal droppings outside and by dumping the water I bucket-showered or washed clothes with (water is scarce!) on the floor and squeegee-ing it outside.

Laundry – I wash my clothes by hand in a basin and hang them on a clothesline in my spare bedroom.

Rwandans often ask why I don’t hire someone to cook and clean for me, which I’ve thought about doing, especially since those tasks take so much longer and are so much more difficult here than they are at home. In Rwanda, as in many countries, it’s nearly a given that most families have a houseboy/housegirl to do their chores. But, it seems that people who live on their own don’t have one, which obviously makes sense, since they’re only doing chores for one person and not a whole family. Now, it’s fairly rare here for people to live on their own, as most live with their parents until they get married. But, my town is full of university students around my age who live on their own, and I think it’s most appropriate for me to match their standard of living. As someone who’s trying to integrate and to reduce the gap between “us” and “them,” I think it’s important for people to know that I, a rich and exotic muzungu, am not above doing the work that Rwandans in similar living situations do. I feel conflicted, though, because hiring an umukozi would mean giving somebody a job, which would obviously be a good thing. I do occasionally have pay someone to tend to the small farm that is my yard, so that’s something.

Questions from Rwandans

Here are some questions I’m frequently asked by Rwandans:

-You’re from America? But, how did you learn French?

-Do you know how to ride a bike? Drive a motorcycle? Drive a car?

-Do you have your mother? And father? (I think this is frequently asked because it's so, so common here to have only one living parent or neither parent.)

-Do you have sisters and brothers? (My response of, “No,” is often met with cries of, “Oh! I’m sorry!")

-Why did your parents only have one child?

-Why do Americans have so few children, when they have the means to have more?

-Are there roads like this (meaning unpaved, rocky, narrow ones) in America?

-What do you use for dowries in America? Cows? Money?

-Do you have cows/beans/bananas in America?

-Do you have farms/farmers in America? Do they use machines?

-Do you have machines in America that wash dishes and clothes?

-How much does school/a car/a house cost in America?

-How much does a plane ticket to America cost?

-How are black Americans different from Africans?

-How is Rwanda different from America?

-Is there poverty in America? (Yes.) But, is it poverty like this?

-Are there prostitutes in America? (Yes.) But, are they white?

-When people get married in America, do they sign a contract saying their marriage will last a certain length of time, like five years? (This is evidently a very common misconception.)

-What are political campaigns like in America?

-Are there political rallies in America?

-Did you vote in the election? (referring to Rwanda’s Presidential election)

-When people see an African in the U.S., do they scream, "Black person! Black person!"? (I am not kidding, I get asked this all the time.)

Ryan Comes to Rwanda

My boyfriend Ryan came to visit Rwanda for two weeks in August. Here’s what he had to say about his first experience in Africa.

I differ significantly from the average Peace Corps Volunteer. Before this trip, I had never spent time abroad, much less in Africa, or been involved in any type of social work. So, this was my first experience seeing true poverty. I’m well aware that Rwanda is considered a success story among African nations; there’s an exquisitely developed infrastructure when it comes to roads and telecommunications, among other things. Once we left Kigali, however, it became readily apparent that Rwanda has two different sides: a country that is rapidly developing and has many modern amenities (which are often used by foreign aid workers) and a much more poverty stricken people who must watch as their country passes them over.

One possible factor to the poverty of Rwanda is its population density. As someone who grew up in a fairly small town (55,000) and went to college in an even smaller one (35,000), I was taken aback by how crowded some places were, especially near the bus stations in Kigali. However, one thing that I did not expect was how organized this dense group of people would still be. The buses ran on time for the most part, the roads were free of accidents (with one exception I saw on the first day there), and my flight even left on time from Kigali (which could not be said for a few places in the U.S. and Europe). This was very different from the vision of Africa that is perpetuated in the U.S.

In Jen’s town, Nyagatare, the gap between the have and have-nots is more obvious. Here, mud-brick houses stand across the street from elegant ones that would be seen as somewhat upscale in the U.S. The government plans to make changes that would make this one of the more modern sectors in the country, by adding an athletic stadium, eco-tourism sites, and numerous infrastructural improvements. They also plan to create a “knowledge city” around Umutara Polytechnic, the university there. I find this last addition to be a bit questionable, as the scholarships of many university students are being revoked in favor of increasing funding for primary education. At any rate, Nyagatare should be receiving a considerable amount of funding in the coming decade, which will attract more people to it. Whether these improvements will reduce the stark contrast between rich and poor remains to be seen.

Possibly one of the most interesting experiences I had in Rwanda was attending a church service in Nyagatare. Everyone has a script for what they believe an event will be like, and it helps us to prepare for the actions that will take place during the event. My script for church did not exactly fit what a Rwandan church service would be like, though. First of all, I felt comfortable during much of the sermon, as it was very similar to church services in the U.S. (it was in Kinyarwanda, but a young guy sitting next to me translated the whole thing into English, so I had a good understanding of what was happening). Every once in a while, however, a song would start up. When this happened, the whole front section of the church burst into some pretty intense dancing while very upbeat music was playing. The liveliness, though very enjoyable, was a bit more than I was prepared for. Never before have I felt as white and self-conscious as I did then, in my inability to dance with the Rwandans there.

One of the trips Jen and I had decided to take while I was in Rwanda was to the beautiful Nyungwe National Park. The forest is known for the chimpanzees, among other primates, that reside there. As part of our trip, we were going to stay with two other Peace Corps Volunteers in the village of Banda on the edge of the forest. On our way down the nearly 1,000-foot descent from the road to the village, we were able to spot a group of (I’m estimating 100) Colobus monkeys jumping from tree to tree. It was my first time seeing a monkey outside a zoo, so seeing close to a hundred of these little black and white bearded monkeys together was pretty fascinating.

As someone from Montana, I have always loved the outdoors. So when planning my trip to Rwanda, seeing the beauty of the rainforest was definitely one of my top priorities. However, once I arrived at Nyungwe, I realized that I was markedly more interested in the fascinating people and culture in Banda. What I saw in Banda was a very different picture of Rwanda than I had seen in Kigali. Here, for example, there was very little medical attention available for the people of the village, and a great demand for it, as far as I saw. Until a few days before I arrived, there was no cell phone coverage in the village valley, in stark contrast to the rest of Rwanda. Despite being one of the less developed areas in the country, the people in Banda were incredibly upbeat. Walking from the Volunteers’ house to the school where they work involved a bit of a hike through the valley. This hike started with maybe three kids walking along side us; however, by the end, I’m estimating a hundred children were involved in the trek. This became a bit strenuous, as the children began to hold our hands to point of having six or eight kids hanging off of me at any one time. Regardless of the extra weight we had to pull up the hill, it was really enjoyable, especially since the hike ended with all children singing and dancing for us.

My journey to Rwanda was one of the most exciting and eye-opening experiences of my life. I think anyone who is interested in taking a vacation should consider what Africa and specifically Rwanda has to offer. Though the cost of getting there is quite steep (around $2,000 from the U.S.), it is a relatively inexpensive affair once you’re there and is well worth the money. The culture differs greatly from the Western lifestyle that we are accustomed to, but the people I met were amazing. I especially enjoyed spending time with the children there. I wasn’t really able to communicate with them, but the language of fun is universal (for some reason they absolutely loved playing with my hair and beard). The people are incredibly generous and hospitable to the point that I sometimes felt a bit uncomfortable having come from a much less welcoming culture. Many Westerners choose to believe that Africa is desperately poor and incapable of ever overcoming its poverty. Rwanda stands in direct opposition to this mistaken belief.

One Couple, Two Stories

Nobody’s life is defined by just one story, and, without recognizing the various stories, it’s impossible to actually know the people or understand the culture.

I recently went with a friend to visit her sister and brother-in-law, a newly-wed couple whose dowry ceremony I attended a few weeks ago. (In Rwanda, the dowry is actually a bride price, which the family of the groom presents to the family of the bride, and usually consists of cows or money.) The ceremony seemed like something that might appear in a National Geographic article on “primitive tribal festivals” or something equally insolent. It lasted several hours and consisted of speeches from the men in both families, singing, traditional drumming, and multiple Intore dance performances. The groom put a ring on the bride’s left middle finger (signifying that she is unavailable but not yet married), and she put a beaded necklace on him. Members of both families elaborately and ritually exchanged gifts. Everyone involved (the complete wedding party probably totaled 50 people) was dressed in traditional clothes, effectively a scarf wrapped as a skirt with a matching one tied as a one-shouldered top, mostly in leopard print (which also decorated the stage area). It really was the type of thing people imagine when they think about “Africa.” From a Western perspective, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think that people who hold such a ceremony are “conservative” or “traditional”.

Flash forward a few weeks to the night I visited the couple at their house. They appeared to be the most modern, Western people I’ve met in Rwanda. They live in the nicest house I’ve been in here, complete with a TV and stereo system. Both are educated, and the husband in particular speaks excellent French. They were both dressed like Americans, and fashionable ones at that – she looked like she was going to a club in New York City, and he looked like he just stepped out of an Abercrombie & Fitch ad. Plus, they acted like they’re actually in love – something I see very, very rarely here. They sat close to each other, chatted, and (gasp!), he even put his arm around her. All this would have been interesting regardless, but was particularly fascinating to me, having just attended their dowry ceremony, where they seemed so very different.

What I’m not yet clear on is why Rwandan couples, like this one, hold dowry ceremonies today. Is it possible that people who, in some ways, seem so very Western still believe that a woman must be bought? Or, has the dowry ceremony become something that people go through the motions of because it’s tradition? Or, does it happen against the will of the couple because the heads of the family insist on it?

I actually think this nicely illustrates the “iceberg-culture analogy” that many study abroad students and international volunteers are taught. It describes culture as an iceberg, because the most noticeable part is the part you can see, but the most important part is the part you can’t see. You can see how people dress, what they eat, and what their houses look like, but you can’t see what they think and how they feel and why. In this case, I can see how the same people sometimes seem so traditional and sometimes seem so modern, but I don’t know what they actually think or what their beliefs are ultimately rooted in.

To me, this also highlights the fundamental complexity that exists in everyone but is often ignored in Africans. You might see a photo from the dowry ceremony and think, “Oh, these people are so traditional.” Maybe you wouldn’t be wrong, but you’d only be getting half of the story. At the same time, if you saw a picture from the night I visited, you might think, as I did, “Wow, these people are so modern,” but that’s still only half the story.

As some bloggers I read have complained, Africans are frequently painted as one-dimensional figures whose lives are dominated by suffering, rather than as people with ideas, opinions, goals, motivations, feelings, uncertainties, and desires. Failing to recognize their actual humanity is a mistake made too often by Westerners, including those in aid and diplomacy, where this error is the most harmful. Because it stops them from seeing the reality, it prevents aid workers from providing substantive assistance and diplomats from forging effective relationships. To be successful, they must recognize each of the peoples’ various stories, not only those that fit into a preconceived notion of what “Africans” are like.

Here’s a great speech by Nigerian author Chimamanda Adiche on the topic - "The Danger of a Single Story."