#pcrwanda

July: July 1st is my birthday, Canada Day, and also Rwandan Independence Day. Therefore it was a holiday and we didn’t have to teach, plus it was even more of a celebration here. I spent the morning hanging out with my Rwandan mentor who works at my school and calls me his ‘sister.’ He’s my closest Rwandan friend here and we hangout pretty often at my site, which is awesome. He has an interesting past and is very intelligent and just an all around great human so I love spending time with him. He even bought me a traditional Rwandan basket as a gift for my birthday and wished me a lifetime filled with growth, happiness, and personal success. Afterwards I went down to Jambo Beach to meet up with a few other volunteers who also live in the eastern province of the country. (I have to post pictures from June and July, I swear I’ll do it soon once I figure out my new camera!!) Jenny, Shannon, James and I spent the rest of the day laying out by Lake Muhazi and eating some really great fish and jamming to music. James even gave me a CocaCola Light (Diet Coke here), he really knows the way to my heart!

A few days later was July 4th which is another holiday here, Rwandan Liberation Day. It marks the end of the genocide period in 1994, and closes out the commeration period. I watched the ceremony taking place in Kigali on the television at the house next to mine, and spent the day hanging out with the other members of my compound. Spending the holiday in my village made me realize how much I miss home, especially on holidays. I was unable to think of the last 4th that I had spent alone, and as far back as I could remember it had always been a holiday that I spent with either friends or family, spending all day doing something relaxing and gathering together to celebrate at the end of the night and of course watch some fireworks. I also learned that as much as holidays are hard to spend alone here, it’s nice to know that I wasn’t entirely alone as I had people nearby who wanted me around and enjoyed having my company on that day.

The following Thursday, July 10, was my mentor’s graduation ceremony in one of the bigger towns in the eastern province. As his ‘sister’ he invited me to attend the ceremony as his family member. I felt incredibly honored, as well as proud of Cyssien, for graduating from University. Higher education is definitely on the rise here but being able to complete University is still a challenge for a majority of Rwandans. Following the formal ceremony we went back to his house and had a traditional Rwandan celebration in congratulate him on his success. It consisted of many speeches, the presentation of gifts, and shared drinks and dinner.

That same weekend was our eastern province regional meeting, which also coincided with the new training group’s site visits. Health 6 is the newest group in country, and they are currently in training. Every group visits their sites in order to see where they will be living and working following the conclusion of training, and this specific week was dedicated to that. Two of the volunteers in Health 6 will live incredibly close to me, and replace my two previous site mates, who just finished their service and left the country, and who I miss immensely. I’m excited about having two new volunteers who will live so close to me because currently it’s incredibly lonely being the only American within an hour plus radius. As the current eastern regional chair of VAC (volunteer advisory committee, like a Peace Corps student government), I am in charge of leading our meetings for the eastern region. All of the volunteers in the east meet up quarterly to discuss ongoing events, projects, committee initiatives and voice concerns or issues. Following the meeting, the majority of us went to Jambo Beach (I think we are starting to become regulars…) and hungout with the new trainees for the night, as well as caught up with one another. It’s nice that we have the opportunity to meet up quarterly because many volunteers get caught up in work at their sites and within committees and it gets to be awhile since you’ve seen some of the other volunteers. 

Amidst all of the social and community events that were happening, it was also exam weeks at my school. I spent a few days proctoring exams for the upper level students, as well as receiving my exams that my students completed for English. We dedicate two weeks to exams at my school, and the students are expected to complete two exams a day. Mine took place on two separate days at the beginning of the second week so I had to commit about two days to grading the exams and deciding final grades for all of my almost 200 students. At the end of the second week of exams, one of the teachers at my school was having a wedding ceremony. On July 18, a group of fellow teachers at my school and myself squeezed into a larger van (about 18 of us) and drove six hours from the east to the north of the country, nearby Musanze. Musanze is a city located near the base of the volcanoes in Rwanda. It’s situated high up in the mountains and is beyond beautiful.

A wedding ceremony in Rwanda is a very different experience. The day is actually split into four or more separate ceremonies, beginning in the morning and going until very late at night. The day starts with a dowry ceremony, followed by the traditional wedding ceremony, then time for pictures (usually at a scenic location), which leads into the wedding reception, and finally there is usually an after-party for close friends and family. Our day began at 5am, with all of us crowding into the bus to begin the journey, and I didn’t get home until after midnight that evening. It was a really fun experience to get to see a new aspect of the culture, and spend some time with the other teachers at my school and my counterparts. I definitely felt like a closer part of the staff and my community after being together for the wedding.

Other things to note in regards to the month of July:

I finally got new furniture!! I purchased a couch for my living room, and two bookcases. The best part about it is not only how much I love couches, but that I no longer have any of my stuff in bags or boxes strewn about my house! I’m finally mostly all put together.

World Cup occupied a large part of this month. Almost throughout the entirety of the World Cup, the immense number of Rwandans who came together to watch each match took me aback. My neighbor in my compound has a TV and I could anticipate anywhere from three to ten people to be over watching a match on her TV. Traveling anywhere in the country on a game night you would find hoards of people crowded around the TV to watch two countries from around the world playing soccer. It was clear to see how loved soccer is here in Rwanda, but also how much the World Cup really does bring together people from around the world. Despite the fact that Rwanda was never a country playing in the tournament, it didn’t less the enthusiasm and interest garnered by the month long event.

I’ve dissipated from my reading tangent to quickly consuming television shows back from the States. I’ve also gotten around to stealing music from other volunteers, I absolutely love music, always have and I love to be opened up to new bands/artists/styles. (Frequently I hear certain songs or artists and it makes me think of a certain time or moment in my life so I have a feeling I will have quite a few of those as a result of my service here… although it might be more difficult to get a DJ to throw on a Rwandan artist in the clubs back home for that nostalgia kick.)

I’ve been bouncing around the country this month, which has become incredibly tiring. In regards to the month of March I have split time pretty evenly between my house/site and various adventures. Let’s see….

March 1st-3rd: I had a PAC (Programming Advisory Committee) meeting in the morning on Saturday so I had to travel to Kigali due to the fact that our meetings are held at the Peace Corps Office. (Bonus, it usually results in a free place to stay for two nights in Kigali, which saves money and is mostly awesome due to the hot shower, free Internet and super comfy beds, and also access to a real kitchen with a refrigerator) Saturday afternoon the Marines who work at the U.S. Embassy in Kigali invited PC volunteers to head over to the Embassy for a barbeque, yard games, discounted beer, and free access to the pool. It was a super fun time due to the fact that about half (40ish) of all the volunteers in country were in Kigali for the weekend to go to the Marine pool party. After the shindig at the Embassy an incredibly large group of us headed out to keep celebrating in one of the neighborhoods in Kigali, which means the night didn’t end until 3 or 4am, normal series of events when I go out for a night on the town in Kigali.

March 7th-8th: Fridays are market days at my big market town, approximately a 25 minute moto ride away or an hour and fifteen minute walk. I met up with my pseudo sitemate Dameetreea who lives about thirty minutes farther up the road from our joint market town. We went to a local bar to grab a brew to celebrate happy hour and the end of another week and then headed over to the market to get our groceries for the week. After twenty minutes of bartering over one ijana (the equivalent of less than a quarter) between different vendors in my efforts to get my produce for the week, Dametreea reminded me that sometimes it’s the principal of getting charged more than normal, and sometimes you gotta pay that ijana so that you can eat for the week. I took her advice to heart and paid a quarter more than I should so I could have enough to make it through the week (I actually didn’t though… I’m terrible at buying enough food to cook for a whole week but I think slash hope I’m making progress.) We hopped onto a twege and then a moto and made it to her site at about 8pm or so. She showed me around her house and compound and we proceeded to share comedic websites and eat banana bread (she had made it earlier in the week) and cheese for the rest of the night. The next day we got up and made French toast and the BEST smoothies I’ve had in an incredibly long time (she has a magic bullet… I NEED.) of chocolate, peanut butter and banana. It was almost like having brunch back in the States (minus the mimosas of course… I’ve been fending but apparently orange juice and then champagne are two of the most expensive things in the country to buy.. #woof) After we watched Forgetting Sarah Marshall (still one of my favorite movies of all time, I can quote it line by line) we started to make homemade pizza, crust and all. IT WAS DELICIOUS. I can’t decide if food tastes better here because you have to improve and make most everything from scratch with the ingredients you can find, or maybe because you actually have to work to cook it, and also we were cooking pizza in a Peace Corps oven over a gas stove. Maybe it’s the combination of all of the above. We grubbed on our pizzas to the new Nelson Mandela movie and then I hopped on a moto for the thirty minute ride home so I could be at my site for the rest of the weekend and get some heavy duty house cleaning done. I thoroughly cleaned/mopped and started to decorate my front room with some chalk murals. (I’ll make sure to upload the finished product next month cause I’m gonna finish it during my month of break)

March 14th-16th: I GOT A PACKAGE! So I went to retrieve it from my market town but one of my good friends Matt had picked it up for me already at his house. We hungout at his site Friday night, chilled at his bar for a while and then headed back to his house. They sell this incredibly delicious and super cheap banana wine in his village and it’s literally 50 cents for a 12 oz beer bottle’s worth that’s evidentially 12 percent. It was well worth the 50 cents and went well with the best Rwandan food I’ve had in country that was prepared by his cook. We spent the night laughing, talking about memories in country, and he caught me up on the TV series The League (I’m OBSESSED.) The next day we headed back to our regional town (which is also where our post office and bank are), Rwamagana. We met up with a few of our other friends who are in our same east region at the nicer hotel in town that also has free wifi. We got some work done and kept the St. Paddy’s day celebrating going. For the night a few of us got two rooms and went out to do our own version of St. Patrick’s Day celebrating, in Rwanda, which was successful on a mildly calm scale.

March 21st-24th: PC Rwanda had a massive event in country dedicated to STOMP’ing out Malaria in Rwanda. It was called the STOMP Expo and more than half of all the volunteers in country attended, and we all were required to bring one Rwandan counterpart. I took another teacher from my school, his name is Innocent. We were educated on Malaria in all aspects, as well as extensively regarding Malaria prevention and education for our community. Malaria is a completely preventable disease, which is spread by female mosquitoes throughout the night, and is responsible for an excessively large number of deaths in Rwanda, and throughout Africa. (check out the statistics online and get educated J) Malaria prevention is incredibly important and most individuals don’t realize that something as small as using a mosquito net at night and seeking early treatment, are enough to prevent deaths as a result of Malaria as well as hinder continued spreading of the disease. We were also given resources in order to organize projects in our local communities and at our school. Innocent and I are going to be painting a mural at our school dedicated to eradicating Malaria and spreading the message of prevention to the community. Also, Innocent seems incredibly passionate about educating the community by having public meetings and even branching out to the local community health center and speaking on market days and umuganda. We also were given materials to have our students put on dramas for the community about Malaria and how to best prevent it. Not only did I get more information/resources to better reach my community and school but I had the opportunity to take a counterpart from my school to help build better relationships and have an invested partner with whom to work. The other excellent part of the conference is I got to see friends whom I haven’t seen since swear-in and New Years. Every night we made sure to spend our time catching up over various activities within the hotel and the local town where we were staying. It was a thoroughly exhausting weekend to say the least.

And this brings me up to this weekend… March 28th-30th: I will ONCE AGAIN be leaving my site in order to travel to Kigali for a website development meeting on Saturday morning. I’ll be staying at the PC Office again (I am so looking forward to a hot SHOWER) to work with a few other volunteers on creating a brand new PC Rwanda website. Peace Corps just decided to allow all countries where there are volunteers around the world to create their own personalized websites. This is because potential applicants are now able to select which specific countries they would like to serve based upon their websites and other information they find. (It basically is like I’m back to sorority recruitment but don’t worry I know the ins and outs of getting PNMs to pledge your organization… #dddforlife)

In regards to teaching and site life… I just gave final term exams to all my students and have a TON of work to do between now and next Friday. I have about 160 exams to grade, 200 compositions to grade, 50 certificates to create, and to choose 3 students to participate in a project next term out of 50 applications. I have until next Friday to finish grading and give marks to all of my students. #superwoof But after next Friday we are free until the end of April so I shall be taking part in memorial week here in Rwanda, as well as vacationing around the country. I’ll make sure to keep you updated as things progress this upcoming month. Anddddd I was thinking about it but I realized I’m telling you things I want to share but I would absolutely love to answer any and all questions you may have for me regarding my time here. Drop a line in the links above and let me know what you think or what questions I can answer.

“It’s a bad day, not a bad life.”

It’s amazing how insecurities can take over in a split second. One minute I’m standing there with a smile on my face and the next I’ve mutated into a giant snarling Dr. Jekyll-like monster with words like razors and a glare to kill. All it takes is one laugh too many in my general direction, dead-pan staring at me, or my personal favorite, getting called ‘muzungu.’

Recently, I called my father after one such incident, which might have actually been the trifecta of all three occurrences. I distinctly remember stating (in what was probably a whine-like voice) on the point of tears, “you don’t understand! The children were calling me a muzungu and staring and kept interrupting my class!” And my dad in his typical honest declarations (he doesn’t really believe in tact) quickly responded with “but I don’t understand why you’re upset, you are a muzungu right? And they’re children, Amanda.” (side note, and something I probably should have stated earlier, muzungu means ‘person with white-skin, foreigner’) UGH.

I was on the bus this past Monday on my way home from Kigali and as I was squished in the back amongst a giant box of napkins and two other passengers, I couldn’t fail but notice that the three passengers directly in front of me seemed to enjoy passing the two hour ride by glancing back to check on my status and apparent facial expressions, approximately every other minute or so. In this instance these weren’t children, they weren’t even older students, these were full grown ADULTS. (I know what you’re thinking. ding ding ding Amanda, where do you think it comes from?)

And as easy as it is to solicit the wisdom of many, those here within country as well as those abroad, it doesn’t change how I choose to react or respond given a certain situation. I know those of you at home are probably thinking, I mean c’mon can that really be that bad? YES, SOMETIMES IT CAN. I just want you to ponder what you would do in my situation. You are the one foreigner, with white colored skin, within a fifteen-mile radius. In some instances you are the only foreigner that some of these children/adults/individuals have EVER seen. (hence why some of the primary, read: elementary, school children refer to you as ‘the sister of Jesus’… not a joke.) Maybe you would have more patience, tenacity, wisdom and strength than I and would be able to endure all said things without the slightest blink of your eye. However for the sake of honesty, that isn’t how I am able to handle things every minute of each day. I have never before been put in a situation akin to the one in which I currently exist.

But to clarify, it’s not all doom and gloom, I would honestly say that 90% of the time I fail to realize how different I am from the Rwandans with whom I share a life. (You may not believe me, but it’s due to how caring, helpful and genuine of a people and culture it is here, read: previous blog on family relations/blood ties) And the things that set me apart aren’t things that they perceive negatively. More than anything I believe they see me as an amusement at times, staring at how I dress and ESPECIALLY HOW I TALK (you never know you have an accent until over one hundred Rwandan students attempt to imitate how you say certain words in class) and even just how I wash my clothes. Things like personal space and individual possessions and wearing shorts as a woman completely throw them and it easily becomes an opportunity to discuss cultural differences.

Time and again I have to remind myself that no one EVER said muzungu was a bad word nor was it derogatory, it is my personal interpretation that gives it a negative meaning and it is me personally that is allowing others to dictate how I feel, especially in a negative context. And I’m going to choose to think that they’re laughing because they think my accent is cute (according to my mom, that’s what she thinks) or that they are staring because they think I am beautiful (because everyone is beautiful in their own way). I am acknowledging, and willingly so, that it will not always be easy, that some days it will be one stare too many and I’ll lose my cool. I have decided that this is to be my personal declaration. I am dedicating myself to attempting to explain cultural misinterpretations; to learning just as much, if not more, than I teach, and to remaining positive in the most tiring and wearing of situations.  

Earlier today I wandered out of my compound in order to dispose of my trash in the communal heap for our compound, which is located outside of the fence and next to some of the crops. I stared at the trash that was slightly mixed with the ground and vegetation, and realized that within the past week the amount of rubbish that the family with whom I share the compound disposed of had changed marginally, if at all. The pile was quickly growing with the waste of the various things I had brought with me to my new house and had since unpacked. Plastic wrappings, paper bags, food containers, broken items and vegetables cuttings littered the ground.

I started to consider how it could be that this family, comprised of five individuals, had 1/20th of the trash that I had. It’s said time and again, to the point that it seems factual without the need for any evidence, that Americans are some of the most wasteful people on the planet. I started to ponder this claim, and my role within that realm as I stared at the trash I had deposited onto the ground. How could I have so much waste and the family next to me had practically none? This question quickly turned to comparison between the two as I mentally tallied our differences in consumption.

Peace Corps Volunteers make a comparable sum to their counterparts within the country in which they work. Although I don’t make a large monthly salary, by any means, I quickly have realized that I make more than most, especially within my village and perhaps even the entire district. My role for the next two years is to serve as an English teacher, working at a relatively large secondary school, in an area that has considerably less than many other places throughout the country. I live within the same compound as my headmistress and her entire family. She has a prominent position within the community as she oversees our school, comprised of primary and secondary (in America this would be both elementary, middle and high schools all within one) with roughly 2,500 students. She is the provider for her family, which is her husband, their three children, their umucozi (live in maid/cook/caretaker), their nephew and herself.

When I first visited what was to become my house, compound and the school in which I would teach following training, I was surprised by the contrast between families and even districts. Up until this point and for the duration of training I did not think that my host family, with whom I lived, had a significant wealth or status. My host mother is a farmer; previously she had been a French teacher up until the change in language. She solely provided for the family, since her husband had passed away a few years prior. Three of my siblings lived at home along with the daughter of the oldest sister of the house. My host family had a comfortable home, comprised of four rooms inclusive of a living room and another large building for the outdoor kitchen, bathhouse, latrine and storage room. The living room had a kitchen table, three chairs for the table, and six armchairs with cushions, a coffee table and a curio which held the television and DVD player. The bedrooms had bed frames, dressers and rugs. In contrast the compound in which I was to live was bare. There was a small room to cook, a small room to bathe and a farther building for the latrine. Another small building housed the umucozi as well as the household supplies. The house section was in essence a one floor rancher, but split family. I was to have one side and my headmistress along with her family has the other. Each “house” is split into two rooms, relatively large with two small windows and one door for the house. During my visit my entire house was bare, as I would provide my own furniture and furnishings so I spent the majority of my time within my headmistress’ house. Her front room comprised her living room, the same as mine, however it only held a small end table, a wooden bench and two floor mats. Her bedroom had various floor mats, one bed/frame and suitcases as well as hooks on the wall to hold clothing. I was aghast that this family, with three young children under seven, lived in such a simple manner, especially since she was the headmistress. I revealed in how happy of a family they were, how they seemed to genuinely enjoy my presence, how they wanted to be around each other all hours of the day, how they didn’t mention a desire for wants nor even immediate needs.

And even now as I look around my bedroom, or gaze into my front room, I can see exactly why I alone am responsible for trash. I am one individual, I occupy two moderately sized rooms, and I have more items as one than an entire family of seven put together. Even when it comes down to something as simple as food I am reminded of the difference between our lives. The diet of the family is based off of all things natural, and especially those things they can grow or harvest themselves. They have an extensive vegetable garden and a chicken. They eat a diet of porridge in the morning, and the lunch/dinner meals are beans and spinach or cabbage with maize or potatoes. They do not purchase anything in packaging; their food comes from their own farm or the local market. Although I largely eat vegetables from the market along with the occasional rice or pasta myself, I have many items sitting in my front room that I’m sure would amaze the family. Jars of peanut butter, jelly, honey, nutella, olive oil, instant coffee, and spices are just a few and that doesn’t even take into account the poptarts, chocolate, nuts and various care package items that are also occupying space. The family can clearly see the amount of STUFF I have sitting in my room yet they have never once asked for anything, or even for me to share something that I do have. Instead for the past week they have offered food at every meal, even after I have already cooked something for myself. They are generous to the point of self-sacrifice and would rather share the little that they do have than offer me nothing.

For those that know me well, you also know I purged my life before deciding to enter the Peace Corps and live in Africa. I downsized the entire of my person to five Rubbermaid storage tubs comprised of home goods, memorabilia and clothing, a microwave, and baby chair. I took with me only two suitcases, both under the 50lb weight limit (just barely) and my backpack. I sold baby car, my VW cabrio and also the love of my life. I cleared my debt, deferred my college loans and closed my bank accounts. Despite all of this, which to some in America seems like sheer insanity, I have, easily, ten times as much as an ENTIRE FAMILY. An entire family who daily offer me things for me to have or to share. An entire family who literally an hour ago gave me two fresh cabbages as a gift. An entire family who genuinely want me to spend time with them and enjoy teaching me how to cook (because they don’t believe I know how…. gah).