my first guests

I am so blessed.  Most of the time I wallow in self-pity that all my favorite people live so far away from me.  Ok, maybe not most of the time; I’m not bad at enjoying what’s around me.  But when I think of all the folks I love so much who don’t live in this Rwandan village, it’s more than just a few people.  And I have a whole lot of love for them.  A few weeks ago, worlds collided a bit as two of my dear dear friends paid me a visit.  

Kim and I have been colleagues, housemates, roommates, traveling companions, and more for almost 9 years.  I love laughing at the fact that before I knew her she was a Camp WinShape legend I’d heard about since 2002 and who I was nervous to talk to when I finally met her on the ropes course at Wilderness.  It was, like, maybe, my first few weeks of being a facilitator and I was paired with Kim one day while she was visiting WinShape.  I guess we were short handed for that program and the Wilderness culture was such that “legends” could come back and work a day here and there any time.  (I haven’t forgotten that the same invitation was extended to me, by a one Mr. Harter not too long ago.) So 30 minutes before the program started Kim said something like, I’ll just stand back and let you take the lead today, ok?  What?! I was so new and didn’t yet know that facilitating groups would come so natural to me and here was this outdoorsy, campy, ropes course-y LEGEND going to just watch me! But, the day went off just fine and by the end of it, Kim had convinced me to spend the summer in Kenya working at her camp.  And thus are the pivotal life-defining moments of our lives. 

It is the gifted and smart Lexi, who by grace and mercy, followed God to Kenya in 2011 speaking life into me from the very beginning of our friendship, who is now the Director of Camp BlueSky, so very dear to my heart and to Kim’s, providing strong leadership that is really making camp better than it’s ever been.  Not only is Lexi a beautiful friend that I will always cherish and be grateful for, but she encouraged me when applying for grad school and danced in her bedroom with me at midnight the night I got my acceptance email.  I couldn’t have left Kenya and Camp if she hadn’t been there.  There’s so much more I could say... 

Anyway, they made the trek to Rwanda  few weeks ago, all the way out to my little village, by way of plane, taxi, bus, and dark, wet, and muddy motorcycle ride to sleep under a mosquito net and cook noodles on the floor.  And spend time with me.  How sweet it was!

We visited Kigali... 

Kim and me at the hotel in Kigali. I'm so happy!

Kigs is way calmer than Nairobi

greeted people in my village and shopped in the market...

um, can you say rainy season?

yes, the muzungu knows Kinyarwanda. it's truly amazing.

ok, we shopped at two markets

went out to Gisenyi to sit by Lake Kivu... 

I forgot the stats, but there's tons of methane beneath this lake.  Enough to electrify the whole country for a long time. It's just real hard to get out.  But don't worry, they're on it.

PCV's aren't allowed to swim here because we could contract schistosomaisis.  But, who's scared of schisto? 

climbed Mt. Bisoke, one of the volcanoes in the Virunga chain... 

we're so clean and happy pre-hike

please look at the trail. and this was NOT the hard part.

SUMMIT!

there's a lake beneath that mist.  half of it belongs to DR Congo.

                                                 

and here we are so glad to be done and wondering why we thought this would be fun. please note our feet.  this was a source of entertainment for our guides all along the way.

and we talked and talked and talked about all we’d missed in each other’s lives in the last year.  I know I’m so blessed to have such good friends.  I pray everyone can know friendship like this.  

Oh, and KARIBU MURWANDA (Welcome to Rwanda)!!! I will host you just as well. :)

“You make the going out of the morning and the evening to shout for joy.” 

Some days, occurring more often than I’d like to admit, I wake up and my first thought is, “I don’t want today.”  These days I’d rather just go back to sleep and try again tomorrow.  However, to my immediate dismay but my overall good health, staying in bed is not an option... at least not an option I’ve given myself.  I know that at the day’s end I’ll look back at it with peaceful appreciation.  Thank God my personality is so positive and His grace so abundant that I am almost always able to see beauty.  

To remind me when I forget I’ve displayed, all over my house, some reminders of the joy and beauty found in our world and the Source from which I may draw strength.  

Perhaps you’ll be reminded of the places and things that motivate you to get out of bed and meet the beauty of each day. 

And here is some of the beauty around me...

"promise"

where i sometimes sit to write

outside my fence

..... mmmm and I’m at peace, appreciating the blessings of today.

a little more on language

This is a little scattered... please bear with me...

I am barely scratching the surface of Rwandan culture. Every day I’m learning more about these two themes I’ve noticed that permeate this society.  Be patient and be strong.  

Ihangane

Meaning, be patient, this phrase is used in a variety of settings.  Many days people will ask me what I’m cooking.  It doesn’t have to be a meal time, they are just amused that a white woman can cook food in Rwanda.  I’ll tell them and then they’ll say that they’re hungry (keep in mind these are usually people with means to feed themselves, like nurses at the health center).  “Ihangane,” I tell them, be patient.  

I see sick people every day.  The dialogue goes: “I’m sick.”  “You’re sick with what?”  “I’m sick with (insert ailment here).”  “Oh, ihangane.”  

Also, you can say, “ihangane (be patient with me), I know only a little Kinyarwanda.”  This is a phrase I use quite often. 

Komera

It means be strong.  When a baby is crying, komera.  When you trip and nearly fall down (and maybe get a bloody toe or two) while walking on the rocky roads, komera.  When you’re carrying a bundle of sticks on your head, komera.  Or when you arrive to work/church/the market/wherever you are going, komera. It is an encouragement through pain, suffering, or frustration, and it’s also just a normal, “hello.”  

Once, during training, a small herd of cows ran into my friend’s fence in front of his house sending me, screaming and running, into the house for fear of charging cows.  “Komera! Komera!” he said to the guys herding the cows.  “Komera Amanda!” he called after me too. 

Living here as already required of me much strength and much patience.  I feel like I’m doing fine with Kinyarwanda acquisition, yet I still get very frustrated when I try to talk to people.  I’ve scheduled 3 meetings for needs assessment activities, had over one hundred people show up for the first, nobody at the second, and the third was canceled the night before it was to happen (not by me).  It’s difficult to figure out how things are supposed to go.  It’s already hard not knowing the local language... then you think you know a little of it, but really even the words you do know have multiple meanings... everything is highly contextual and wrapped up in a complex, private, and slow-to-trust-outsiders culture.  

Another example:  inshuti translates into English as friend.  BUT, it actually can mean friend or boyfriend/girlfriend/lover/spouse.  Then add to that the Rwandan culture piece of having multiple inshuti (the boyfriend/girlfriend kind) until you settle on the one you want to marry.  Even then, until you’ve officially tied the knot (in all 3 ceremonies!!!) you can still have multiple inshuti.  Don’t even get me started on how things like Facebook has compounded this inshuti issue.  And your inshuti don’t always find out about your marriage until they receive an invitation to your wedding.  Also, there’s no way to differentiate feminine or masculine words in speech.  Imagine how complicated a conversation may get when some random moto driver is trying to hit on me while I’m picking up my visiting friends from the airport in Kigali... or worse when I show pictures of friends who are men... and I thought the word friend could sometimes be a loaded word in my own language...

So it’s impossible to teach and learn language without learning culture.  I’ve also discovered, once again, just how much I thought my own culture is the center of the universe.  It’s (ashamedly) frustrating when I want something to translate into English, but it just doesn’t.  There are ideas here that just can’t be adequately expressed in my own language and my first reaction is dislike.  Then I become frustrated with and embarrassed of myself for assuming that every other language and culture must have come from mine first.  I supposed that’s a natural feeling, but I’m happy to be expanded in this way. So much of Rwandan culture is about being patient and being strong.  I may have described this already but just a visit to our health center is all about waiting and being strong...

We deliver babies every single day.  Women walk up to 2 hours while they’re in labor to get here.  I’ve seen them sit waiting in the waiting room for up to a whole day.  They wait to see the nurse.  Wait on their baby.  Then I’ve seen the most incredible strength as they push the things out and then get stitched up (yes, stitches, and I think you know where they are: yikes.) with no pain meds.  Be patient.  Be strong.  I think I have no idea how patient and strong people are here.  

As I reread that paragraph I fear that all this language immersion has caused my English speaking and writing to be a little less clear.  Ihangane, please, as I try to express myself here. 

There’s also no word for please in Kinyarwanda.  It’s such a culture of sharing and everything-belongs-to-everyone and everyone’s-time-belongs-to-everyone kind of culture that please is implied.  Or, it isn’t necessary.  

I was going to show you some pictures of Kim and Lexi's Rwandan adventure, but my good internet died with the electricity which died with the rain just a few minutes ago.  Oh, life in Africa.  Next time: details about my guests and pictures of drinking beer on the lake, climbing a volcano, and hanging out in town! What fun and what good friends I have!

understand me

“Understand me.” 

In Kinyarwanda this word is “umva,” the imperative of kumva which is to hear, to listen, to understand.  When folks want your attention they say, “umva,” “listen.”  It’s not impolite, it’s common, something everyone says.  It’s like how we say, “hey” to get someones attention (“hey, let me tell you what happened today...”).  Today a young man said in English, “Understand me.” I promptly gave him my attention. “I would like to know the name of this in English,” as he pointed to a chicken.  “Chicken,” I said.  “Kitchen,” he replied.  I stifled a giggle.  “The chicken is in the kitchen,” I recited in my head.  This little saying my site mate taught to her students who where always calling chickens kitchens, a  common language mistake.  For some strange reason it’s even a mistake I’ve made.  That’s how I learned the “chicken is in the kitchen” thing.  It’s tough because the word for kitchen is igikoni. When you’re thinking in Kinyarwanda all day and you’re standing out by the igikoni and shooing away the inkoko, and you’re talking to your one English speaking friend, you sometimes accidentally say kitchen when you mean chicken.  Chicken.  Kitchen.  They sound similar, right?  

A few days ago I came to work and this is how I was greeted by the high school girls working as interns at the health center for a few weeks:  “Congratulations!” 

“For what?” I said in English (they like to practice English as much as possible since their entire education system suddenly switched from French to English just a few years ago and none of their teachers are great English speakers). 

“You are smart!” the girl responded in all sincerity. 

Haha!! Congratulations! You are smart! Exactly the way I would like to begin every day of my life. Too bad from there I went on to sit in a staff meeting for an hour where I struggled to keep up with basic dialogue about the patients.

Sunday I went to church with a woman I work with at the health center.  We went to town for church and then went out to eat lunch at a fabulous (read: less than a dollar for a hella Rwandan food, including, of course, french fries with mayonnaise) buffet.  At the end of the meal she leaned back, patted her belly and said, “I am empty.”  

“I think you mean you’re full, Aline, urahaze.”

“Oui! I am full! Ibiryo byenshi (much food)!” She corrected herself smiling and laughing. 

The sweet little lady I have been eating lunch and dinner with says this all the time too.  Somehow somewhere the “full” and “empty” lesson got mixed up.  I, on the other hand, in speaking Kinyarwanda, have the same problem with open and close.  Don’t know the difference and for some reason I have a mental block against learning it. 

Whenever the kids in my neighborhood see me they say, “Oh, Amanda!” They call it out from great distances.  I thought it was really sweet and had no idea why they said it like that until today.  I was walking with my counterpart and when I laughed in response to another, Oh, Amanda, he said, “‘Oh’ is a salutation.”  Got it.  So there’s a reason for the oh.

And so goes the slowly revealing mystery that is language learning.  As frustrating and depressing as it sometimes is, however, I’m becoming convinced that total immersion is the way to go.  During training we studied language for more than four hours 3 days a week.  It was tedious and grueling.  I sometimes hated my language teacher and other times loved him.  It felt like we were living in a jigsaw puzzle and all the pieces were flipped upside down so you had no idea where to place them.  Day by day (if we were having a good day) a piece of language and culture would be flipped over and we could finally see where to put it. Now, everyone in my village loves to talk about how good I am an Kinyarwanda.  It’s great until we get past greetings and basic conversation about family and health.  Then I stare dumbfounded and apologies for not being able to say anything else.  I’m still waiting for the day when I moved beyond talking about what I can talk about to what I want to talk about.  There’s so much I want to say and understand. 

Some other things I’ve done this week are...

... watched some young men make mandazis (really good triangular donuts) in the bakery I just discovered in my village.  Very exciting.  

... made appointments with three community leaders to have participatory community analysis meetings in their areas (including waiting outside their offices for a ridiculous amount of time and felt like I was waiting for the Wonderful Wizard of Oz)

... searched for dance practice, but did not actually find any dancers. I’ve been told there’s a traditional Rwandese dance (Intore) group in my village on Wednesday afternoons, but I have yet to find them practicing. 

... prepared my field for planting.  I also took pictures of said field, but left the camera at home just now.

... got my church on twice this weekend. Yep, Saturday and Sunday.  Adventist then Baptist.  Rwandans sure to love to pray.  Actually, I’m getting pretty good at sitting still on small benches for 4 hours at a time.  

... road a semi-broken bike home from church on Sunday racing a thunderstorm.  Did I mention I was wearing a skirt and tights too?  And it was already raining when I was halfway home?  Yea... that was pretty awesome.  To make myself feel better I made tea, ate cookies, and watched TV on the computer all afternoon. 

... finally got some furniture in my house!!! Hurray! Just in time to receive special visitors in two weeks! 

All in all, things are going pretty well here in Kabere Village.  I’m looking forward to planning Global Handwashing Day (Oct 15, let’s get excited!) and doing the participatory community analysis activities.  They nerdy development student in me can’t wait to tell you all about daily schedules, seasonal calendars, and community mapping.  

camp GLOW

I'm still working on some reflections on training... perhaps this week I'll get to that... For now, though, I'd like to share some photos from Camp GLOW this week.

I had the fortunate opportunity to travel a few hours away (probably the most hellacious matatu ride of my life, but I won't get into that now) to a boarding school in Janja where PCV's organized and ran a camp for 40 girls in their communities.  It was so fun and such a great experience!  I got to teach a session on emotions and behavior and help with all the various activities.  There was basket weaving, coins purse making, pizza cooking, jam making, a talent show (which turned into a dance party), and classroom sessions on team building, emotions and assertiveness, and leadership.  It really enjoyed working with other PCV's and getting ideas and brainstorming about next year's camp.

Before I went to camp I was finally able to hire a Kinyarwanda teacher and begin working on my garden! We'll plant seeds in two weeks and I can't wait to share updates about that.  The director of my health center is really excited about doing some nutrition projects and having an example garden plot right there are the health center.  We'll see how this goes since it will be only my second attempt at gardening.  It seems like I'll have a lot of help from health center staff and a local friend who just finished a graduate degree in agriculture in my district.

Here's a little tour of my village...

work

my house

my friend who lives on my front window

One of the "roads" in my village

my new mountains and soccer field 

"it's camp time in the Peace Corps nation!" no that doesn't sound quite right...

The high schoolers in my village go to camp on Monday.  I have to admit to a twinge of jealousy.  How I’d love to go to camp with them!  But, for now, I will loan out a few mattresses and wish them well with much excitement.  I LOVE CAMP! And I’m truly excited for these kids to experience it.  PC/Rwanda, like several other PC programs in various countries holds camps for boys and girls every year called GLOW (Girls Leading Our Word) and BE (Boys Excelling).  It’s almost a weeklong during there are Rwandan volunteers and American PCV’s facilitating games, teaching lessons, and doing other fun camp-y things.  I can’t go yet because I’m supposed to stay at site for 3 months, but you can be sure I’ll be involved next time.  

Maybe I’ll be able to visit for just one day of camp so I can tell you more about it.  Research, right?  I really should check it out before I’m one of the ones responsible for leading it.  Right? Right?  I’m already having to sustain myself from telling my site mate about games and activities she should do. This year’s camp is already planned, but I’m overflowing with ideas for them. 

For now, though, I will direct you to a speech delivered by one of my most favorite people, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton.  In her speech she addresses campers at a GLOW camp in Malawi.  It further affirms and excites me about how life-changing and powerful a camp experience can be.  I’m so happy there’s camp in Rwanda!  I’m also thrilled Secretary Clinton visits Peace Corps projects.  (side note:  on the day of our swear-in ceremony Bill and Chelsea were in Rwanda opening a Partners In Health/Clinton Foundation hospital in my province.  I was really hoping they’d have time to swing by our ceremony.  Everyone told me that my hope was ridiculous and that he didn’t have time for such things.  But they very next week Hill-baby herself swore some PCV’s into service in Senegal and now she’s visiting camps!  Perhaps my wish wasn’t so crazy after all.  Here’s to hoping I’ll get to rub shoulders with cool dignitaries!)

the speech

---> this just in: my program manager called me yesterday after I wrote this post and told me I should definitely go to camp for at least a few days! Hooray!!! a summary will definitely follow.

vaccination day

Yesterday was vaccination day at my health center.  Which means a whole bunch of Mamas bring in their sweet little (smelly, puke-y, poopy) babies to be weighed, measured, and poked.  Ok, but wait, really they don't get poked with needles, they take the vaccines orally.  I just wanted to say, "weighed, measured, and poked" because I like the sound of it. Anyway here's what it looked like...

oh my, it was amazing.