Sunday, November 29, 2009

and then we slaughtered a goat.

technically, Ryan and Brandon killed the goats. maggie got pictures, and i took the video for ryan.
we were celebrating Tabaski (sp?) which is a Muslim tradition celebrating when Abraham didn't have to sacrifice Issac because God provided a lamb instead. there aren't many sheep in Rwanda, so we used a goat. some of the LCFs (and one of the drivers) helped direct how to go about skinning and cleaning, and most of the Mauritania girls were figuring out what to cook.
we had such a Great Time working together! talk about a bonding experience - making your own meal completely from start to finish. well, we didn't grow the vegetables, but we washed (twice), cut (only 1 finger!), and made stew (and frites / hashbrowns) with them. I helped hold one of the goats while it was being skinned, and found other jobs across the afternoon. I didn't see who hacked it to pieces, but I would assume the boys. Lindsay and Michelle then expertly carved out usable meat, and the Rwandans cleaned the intestines (which they are cooking up back at the house for lunch today). Marta and I helped cut small pieces for the brochettes - and someone had sent pulled pork barbecue sauce, which was delicious. Austin wrapped 2 of the legs in foil and let them slow roast, and they were amazingly tender (goat legs! tender! whoda thunk it). ribs and other large pieces were straight grilled with a garlic/butter sauce Austin made. finally, large chunks of meat (and stuff that was still on the bone) went into this stew (has an official name - don't remember it). Megan kept saying it looked like she had killed a small child for her witches brew - which is true. every time you took the lid off, it was so steamy inside, you couldn't see what was in the pan - except for the bones sticking out. and she kept stirring it with a large, long wooden paddle/spoon thing.
all of this was topped off with pineapple. delicious.

model school finished this week - i learned you can make spontaneous lesson plans out of any topic they don't know. especially animals. specifically - penguins. you write a paragraph on the board, you read it to them, you read it with them, you go over vocabulary, and you ask comprehension questions. awesome. ryan has one on camels which inspired the penguin lesson, but i was very excited to come up with one on my own.
so the next two weeks are back to language classes. who knows, i may learn to communicate yet...

read the Poisonwood Bible. SO DEPRESSING!!! maybe it's because i'm in africa. maybe it's because you want to smack half of the cast. beautifully written, intense truths that anyone who is trying to live on the dark continent can confirm, but depressing. i will probably read it again a few months in and start taking notes on quotes to share.
and i'm almost done with Fitzgerald. i like him a lot better in small doses. i don't mind his philosophy, and i can understand where he's coming from in short stories. still hate Gatsby (stupid symbolism)

finally, my exciting news of the week (and this is what I am truly thrilled with) I have made it all the way through world 1 on Donkey Kong Country. BY MY SELF!!! ok, i know this sounds totally irrelevant, but Casey and Kelly and CJ - who Always had to bail me out halfway through a level - will hopefully get this. I can't tell you how many vacations and how many summers I spent watching all my cousins progress through Nintendo games like they were watching television. and i always tried, and always died. or ruined their saved games because i ran out all their lives. but as i bounce through the jungle, i remembered EVERY extra banana spot, and where to jump, and that it was better to get the golden ostrich than the shark or the frog. and i'm in the middle of bouncing bonanza, and i am Psyched! all y'all better be smiling with me, because here, it's all about finding the small successes.

ok, i'm running up a bill here, and i'm not even taking the time to proofread or capitalize (obviously).

love you all!
write me!

Thursday, November 26, 2009

thanksgiving list

Original ideas: (in no particular order)
- Musicals - which combine my love of a good story with the language of music and produce a reminiscence rarely felt by anything else.
- lemon flavored clover grass - which apparently grows everywhere. =) (charlynn, i know you know what i'm talking about...)
- friends who write me - it keeps me from feeling completely isolated here
- dad's sermons on my ipod
- my roommates, whom i will miss dearly when i go to site.
- a language that provides me with the availability to speak in details, explain, classify, and mark myself as elite by vocabulary (that would be English)
- skin that doesn't hurt when it burns, and fades to a nice brown
- memories of previous holidays and the people i spent them with.
- family that is determined to be supportive - nuclear And extended!
- a cast iron stomach
- a boyfriend who is committed to protecting me and can get my dad to throw his hands up and say "wheeee!" for the first time. ever.
- the ability to let days run together so i'm never quite sure how long i've been here
(december already? seriously?)
- my pictures of snow
- for having a personal relationship with Christ, through which I can experience God's grace and blessings - especially peace of heart.


** 24 hours after i wrote this, my ipod wiped itself. so that knocks off 2 things at the very least. still have a lot to be thankful for. =)

Things I will forever be grateful for IN the US.
- running water
- a plethora of books
- reliable electricity
- juice
- clean water
- the availability of Fine Arts (except in CO, which doesn't have any)
- immediate availability of pretty much everything
- cream cheese (maggie got some smoked oysters that she gave to me, but it's not the same without the cream cheese...)
- exposure to multiple cultures in a small area
- people who speak English
- people who listen to the same music i do
- band-aids

we are making a huge feast tonight! i will share what i can type up in 15 minutes next time I get on. sorry - no more large blogs. can't risk sticking the jump drive between computers anymore.
hope y'all are eating great food for me! like chocolate pie!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

dance with me tonight

Halloween was my last entry?
Does anyone have any idea what happened between now and then? I barely do… Currently – listening to Aida on the “recently added” mix on the ipod. Note to Charlynn: it’s not too bad.

Ok, so with half the crew in model school, and half the crew doing micro teaching, language classes were all mixed up. In the mornings I was partnered with Jen, who was my roommate in Philidelphia. We tried to ask our teachers about slang, but had a hard time explaining it. In the afternoons, I was paired with Michelle, my friend from Umuganda. Michelle is fun because she gets SO excited about everything. Even when we were still in the states, driving from Philly to JFK, the bus driver started sharing some sight-seeing info on the border of NJ/NY; she ran up to the front of the bus and conveyed everything through the microphone. She thought everything was just Facinating! And she has that energy that rubs off on you – when she’s excited, you want to be excited. I know I’m being repetitive, but #1 I’m tired, and #2 emphasis. Anyway, she learns the language faster than anyone else because she gets so excited about it. She hangs out with the kitchen staff and the LCFs and speaks as much Kinyarwanda as possible – all the time. I love being in class with her because we feed off each other’s energy and she gets excited for me when I understand things. I have been spending a little more time with her and speaking with the HCNs, but I can’t absorb it the way she does. I finally gave in and started cutting up my notebook for notecards I could flip through. Everything is organized by topic and part of speech. Now I just have to use them…

I finished Fury – didn’t hate it. Starting to run out of options among the team here though. I read “Emma’s War”, which is about the British Aid worker who was in the Sudan and married one of the warlords who was part of the civil war in the early 90’s. I also re-read Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and Harry Potter 7. I think the coup-de-tas this week was my first Chuck Palanik; Rant. I was excited about the F Scott Fitzgerald book, until I remembered that this was the guy who wrote the Great Gatsby. One of the worst books ever. Oh well, we’ll see how he does with short stories. (pretty sure this makes book 12 since landing in Rwanda)

Saturday (11-7) was an outing day. They went to see the rainforest in the southwest. I opted to save my money because, I hate to say it, Brookfield is an awesome zoo, and I’ve seen monkeys. I spent the day in Butare with Scott. I got to chill at a coffee shop, eat real food, and visit the National Rwanda University. It’s really a beautiful campus, with manicured gardens, a student union, a medical center, and each subject has its own building.

Later in the week I went on a site visit. Not MY site, mind you, but visiting a Health PCV. She lives in one of the smallest town possible, and still has running water and electricity. Her town doesn’t have internet, but that’s still more than reasonable. 9 of us went at the same time, but Megan and I were the only 2 to go to the same place. SO Glad. We bought bus tickets from here to Kigali, where we all split up. Megan and I had to get dropped off (via PC van) at a different bus depot in town and were given money for fare and the name of the bus. We started asking around, but the bus we needed wasn’t there yet. We found some steps to sit on in the shade (because it was very warm and we had backpacks) but we only got to sit for about 5 minutes before some Rwandan men came and started pulling us over to a taxi and trying to tell us that was going to our destination. Now, to their credit, it was going to the district – but I was not about to ride a strange, over crowded, over priced taxi-van that was only guaranteed to take us to the right district. We had enough language to say no, I want the Onatracom bus going to this city. Fortunately, the bus we wanted really did pull up about 5 minutes later (although, standing in the African sun, protecting your backpack for 5 minutes when you don’t know the end time is not really fun) and we asked about 10 people (the driver, a nun that got on the bus, the door guard who takes fare and other passengers and passerbyers) if this was really what we wanted. Between Megan’s French and my (again, extremely limited) KR, we decided to get on the bus. Even though it wasn’t leaving for another hour, where else were we going to go? Plus, we definitely got some of the best seats in the front. Ok, so think size of a coach bus, but accommodations of the El. (all you non-chicagoans will just have to imagine) Megan and I claimed window seats across the aisle from each other. My seat mates decided they needed more room on the aisle than I did next to the window (which opened by sliding horizontally and was open from where my butt hit the seat to just above my shoulder). Fortunately, there was about 2 inches of wall extending up past the back of my seat so I didn’t completely fall out the window – but this wall definitely had a corner, and my shoulder definitely had a bruise by the end of the trip. I did lose a pen out the window. I thought it was clipped to the notebook, but it bounced off.
Ok, so the bus ride was supposed to take 3 hours except as soon as we left the paved road, our rear windshield broke. I thought it shattered from how rocky the road was, but the bus driver and the 2 guys in the front (passengers) got out to look at it and it sounded like possibly a rock had hit it? 20 minutes later, they all come back in and the bus starts. 20 seconds later, the bus stops again and they all get out to talk to the locals who are now lined up on the edge of the street. There was kind of an older guy with a sketch pad, but he wasn’t police and they couldn’t do anything about the window to fix it or anything anyway, so I have NO idea what was going on. Every so often I looked over at Megan, eyes closed and listening to her ipod. I figured, if she wasn’t worried, I didn’t have to be either. Except that during all this my seat mates decided to invite another person on to our bench (this makes 4 now) and my shoulder was definitely out the window.
The other most frustrating thing about African public transportation is that they never tell you where you are. They figure, if you’re going there, you must know what it looks like. There are no announcements and no list as to how far down the line you are. They’re nice to us muzungus though and tell us when to get off, but I was really nervous – what if I was listening to my music and didn’t hear it? What if they didn’t really understand where I said I wanted to go? What if I was asleep and they didn’t bother to wake me? Again, thank goodness for megan. We finally arrived at ~7 and walked the 25 minutes into town in the dark with our host PCV.

I know I spent a lot of time just talking about the bus ride out there, but that was honestly the most intense part of the trip! What did I Do at site? Slept well for the first time since I got to Africa. Went to the market and bought ingredients for guacamole (in KR) which we ate with 4 meals. Watched like 10 episodes of Scrubs. Read about a third of Vanity Fair. Took naps. We did walk through the hospital, but that took up about 30 minutes.

I know this sounds like a pointless trip, but I was really glad I went. It was good to see that I can survive on the language I have now, even if it’s not phenomenal. I’m glad I got to experience the bus system with a partner the first time. We also learned how to make this really delicious meat sauce that is SO EASY. Very helpful.
I think the most important part of the trip for me is how I felt riding out of town. I know many of you were confused / hurt when I said a while ago that I didn’t feel gone yet – but keep in mind, I’m “gone” from most of you, most of the time. When I’m in FL, I’m not in Chicago. When I’m in CO, I’m not in FL. And I’m almost never in CA. so while I miss all y’all, I feel like I’m at college or at camp or something similar where not enough is different to matter. I left Chicago to pack in CO. I left CO for PA. I left PA with 36 other Americans and haven’t left their side since then. This dorm of Little America is great, but I don’t recognize it as some exotic or distant land yet. Except for the 3 days of my site visit. Leaving everyone behind really gave me a taste of how it will be when I go to my own site. I didn’t have roommates to talk to. There wasn’t a crowd of kids listening and dancing to music in the evening. There wasn’t anyone to vent to at the end of the day or to tag along with between classes. It was different. I finally felt like I was in the Peace Corps.

And then I remembered that I don’t like to sleep in a house alone. Oops.

Next life lesson – what it’s like to be a laundry woman from the turn of the century.
I have honest to goodness blisters and knuckles that are rubbed raw. Stupid jeans. And the sweaters. And the most frustrating part is that you never can quite rinse All the soap out. I think I’m the only person who likes when it rains after I do laundry. I figure – extra rinse. I definitely sunburned my back during the last episode though. All my roomies have begun to notice and tell me how bad it looks.

*News Flash*
Duct Tape does not fix everything. Like the ear hook on your headphones. Dammit. I dunno, Chris says she has superglue. Maybe that will actually hold the pieces together. These are the airplane earphones too – my real earphones from home only play out of one speaker now, which is a wiring malfunction. Also not duct tape fixable.

Model school.
I am not a fan of the idea of switching between classes and having to create a lesson for a group of students when you know Nothing about them. So I checked with two other teaching to for a team that would stick with the same class all week. At least then we can build lessons on each other and we know what our students have heard. This morning was pretty fluid. Pretty impromptu for some of us (me), but fluid. Avery taught formal v casual, introductions and requests. I taught formal titles, and did listening activities on formal v casual. Scott closed it out with “how to write a letter”. Tomorrow is “no chalkboard” day. I have no idea what I’m going to do. I’ll figure it out in the morning…
You know the phrase “those who can’t do, teach”? That especially applies to me. I can tell you how to do a perfect plie, and how your toes should be pointed – but I would fall on my face if I tried it myself. Pick a skill – I can correct it better than I can do it. This, unfortunately, applies to teaching as well. I can tell you how to make great lessons and keep the kids in line, but I forget half my own advice when it’s my turn on the stage. I didn’t get mad, and I didn’t yell, but I did whistle at them to get their attention. The first time, they were confused, the second time, they giggled. The third time, they laughed and kept talking.
The first time I whistled, I remembered that it’s taboo for girls to whistle. The second time, I remembered that they used whistles to trick fugitives to come out of hiding during the genocide. The third time, I wanted to tape my mouth shut. Oops. I guess it went ok though. Scott called out all the slackers to read in front of the class.

Ok, short blog this week. I’m falling asleep again and the power just started flickering. Happens from time to time. Sometimes it means we don’t have to pay for internet. =)

Love you all.
Comment on things! Let me know how life with you is!
And I will try and post pics around swearing in time in Dec.

Ps. heard Owl City playing in a store in Butare. How crazy is that!

Monday, November 9, 2009

other blogs

ok, one day i will find a gadget to make these easier to find.
until then, names a links.

maggie, roommate:
http://margeinrwanda.blogspot.com/

tressa:
http://tressawessa.blogspot.com/

avery:
http://newworldrwanda.blogspot.com

Amanda / Penny, roommate:
http://amandarwanda.blogspot.com

Jen, first roommate in Philly:
http://redtarainrwanda.blogspot.com/

moving right along

Heyo!

No, that’s not Kinyarwanda. I just wanted to say heyo. =)
This has actually been a pretty chill week. One group started Micro-Teaching, so a third of our classes were absent. Plus, they need the classrooms to teach in, so we had open afternoons.
One of the sessions we had together was on conflict resolution styles. A lady from PC Washington is working on a new program to train all PCVs in personal and group conflict resolution, and PCVs in post trauma countries more thoroughly in psycho-social causes of conflict that leads to violence and the cycles that people get trapped in, and how they work through to reconciliation. Yeah, I know that’s kind of a run on, but it all works together. Anyway, she is just creating the program, so she told us we were her guinea pigs for a first presentation and session as she designs her curriculum. She took us out to the courtyard, placed a chair in the middle that was “conflict”, and asked us to take a position towards it. I was a little surprised at some people’s reaction, but mostly, it was really interesting to see how scattered we were. Not only were people at different distances from the chair, but some had their backs turned, and Matt sat on the chair. I walked right in front of it, and put my hands in my pockets, because I have learned that conflict needs to be dealt with head on, but calmly and rationally.
The other major piece of the personal section was a “personal conflict style survey” (which I think I remember doing in my group communication class a ways back). It tested on 2 sets of responses – the “Calm”, when issues first arise, and the “Storm”, after the issues have been unresolved and have grown in intensity. The graph that accompanies the lists set the value of the relationship against the value of the issue.
In the Calm, my resolution style is a high collaborating, with a tied compromising and forcing. During the Storm, compromising takes a stronger lead over collaborating, and accommodating pulls above forcing. Which sounds good to me… (comments, rebuttal, anyone?) The only thing I didn’t particularly agree with in her discussion was negative connotations she applied to forcing. Both Bobby and I tried to voice the idea that you can be determined to share your point of view, and do it graciously and tactfully – she calls that manipulation. Whatever. Most of the time, what I really want is to be understood. You don’t have to agree with me, as long as you can see where I’m coming from…

We’ve also had a few sessions with Rwandans aimed at helping us understand the genocide and reconciliation since then. The following is the history of Rwanda as I understand it. (if you’re not that interested, skip to the *** part)
Please keep in mind that certain names and groups have not been too clearly explained to me, so if things don’t make sense – that’s how I understand it…

The Royal Era
There were 3 main members of the royal team; the king, the personal secretary (who was responsible for getting him crowned), and the queen mother. There were also 3 families (who intermarried) who rotated in the position of the crown. Beneath the royals were 3 chiefs: chief of land (farming), chief of pasture (herding), and chief of the army. The chief of the army was often called upon to settle disputes between the herders and the farmers. Beneath them was a complex hierarchy of sub-chiefs and regional directors. The government was decentralized here, which is unusual for the other plateau continent kingdoms. (The current government is Very central, but with hierarchy everywhere. Districts, regions, cities, even in schools – there is an order to be followed.)

Colonial Divisions
When the colonizers came, they noticed the difference and concluded that this style that was more similar to Europe indicated a higher level of thinking and required ethnic outlining. They decided that the leaders were descended from “Hammites” (yes, one of Noah’s sons) who was cursed. Now, colonizers had to choose certain people to educate and integrate into their culture. They carefully measured facial features and quantified any possible description, and determined that the taller, thinner, cattle herding people came from Ethiopia and were smarter, and the shorter, stouter, farmers came from Chad and were stronger. They chose the Tutsi sons of chiefs, who looked a little more like Europeans: tall, slender, longer noses, and slightly lighter skin. Anyway, they sent them to school in Butare, and when they graduated, they went to work for the Belgians as “assistants”. It is, in fact, these modes of “divide and rule” that help lead to conflict later on.
In 1933, they formalized identities based on ethnic labels as opposed to clan and region (which is where they stared). The taller men (with more than 10 cows) were designated Tutsi and the shorter farmers (with less than 10 cows) were designated Hutus. These labels were stamped on identity papers, and impacted whether or not you went to formal schools, and what kind of jobs you could get. The uber ridiculous part is that parents, children, siblings, any kind of relatives could be labeled with differing ethnicities. As these divisions solidified over the next generation, the monarchy pattern was weakened.

Major Colonial Malpractices
- Political Domination
The Belgians introduced “reforms” to reduce the number of Rwandan rulers. They reduced the number of sub-chiefs and slowly shifted power over major decisions to the colonizers. Also, ALL of the ruling positions left for the Rwandans were exclusive to Tutsis.
- Economic Exploitation
These jobs were called the Uburetwa. They were higher trained, and higher paid. There was, of course, the standard unfair taxation and confiscation and redistribution of land (and guess who benefited). I think the hardest piece that I have heard is the Akazi. Any infrastructure designed by the colonial powers was mandatory, unpaid labor, designated for the “stronger” Hutus. So roads, schools, churches, etc... was all slave labor.
- Social Repression
When these compulsory works were not completed, there was forced migration, beatings, and humiliation. Also, there was a historic relationship between the farmer and the cattle owner on renting cows for labor and milking and offspring and the use of the land for grazing called the Ubuhake (all very complicated, don’t really understand it) but this became more exploitative and started using colonial powers to support repression.

A Shift in the Wind
After WWII, the current king promised reforms and change, but they were all only half-fulfilled. He abolished Ubuhake, but didn’t create new laws to regulate the sharing of land. He abolished Uburetwa and Akazi, but the land belonging to the political leaders was not redistributed well. The beatings just shifted from the chiefs to the police.
In 1952, chiefs and sub-chiefs added councils and committees to help with making decisions, but the members were mostly Tutsi, and the councils held mostly consultative power. In the late 50’s, the councils were discussing adding Hutus to share power in the political arena, and some of the Hutu leaders were pushing for education for which would lead to social freedom in the future. Apparently they were pushing too strongly though, because the king rejected many of their requests as divisive.

Internal Divisions
Neither the Tutsis, nor the Hutus were a unified group. The older generations were more conservative, the progressive Democrats had studied in the Belgian schools, and, of course, there were always opportunists.
The northern Hutus were considered the “intellectuals”. A man named Gitarama, who had studied at seminary, created the “Hutu Manifesto” with the help of priests to state the rights and strength of the bahutu (the Hutu people). However, most of the bahutu were in the south, and rural teachers, workers, with small salaries.
And the “intellectuals” they were being oppressed by were not the majority of the batutsi, who were peasant cattle herders.
Most importantly, during this time the Tutsi in power were starting to push for independence from colonial rule. The Belgian government was not too thrilled with their pets trying to strike out on their own; they had educated them, reserved the nicest jobs for them, given them higher salaries, and now they wanted freedom.

Elections, and Early Violence
In 1959, we see the first political violence. There was a “revolution” by the Hutu leaders. Tutsi chiefs and sub-chiefs were killed, chased out, or demoted. This was also the first mass exodus of Tutsi and monarchists (which included some Hutu, and even the forest tribes of Twa / pigmies). This “revolution” was backed by the Belgian leaders in an attempt to regain control over the Tutsi rulers.
By the elections in 1960, there were 4 major political parties. The UNAR included Tutsi and Hutu and had traditional and progressive members. They wanted autonomy in 1960, and independence in 1962 with a democracy and constitutional monarchy. RADER was the moderate party with Tutsi and Hutu, who declared gratitude towards the colonial powers. They were willing to move more slowly with autonomy in 1964, and independence in 68. They also wanted a constitutional monarchy, but were most concerned with establishing the privatization of land. The MDR/PARMEHUTU were incredibly anti-monarch and wanted a republic government. They included intellectual goal and peasants goals in their platform; rejected inequality in salaries, and wanted land privatization as well. However, they claimed true independence would only occur when ALL Tutsi were out of power. Finally, the APROSOMA was the party of the Hutu leaders, and their line was “the party of the masses”. But they based themselves around the home of Giterama, regrouped the intellectuals in the south, and radicalized around the Hutus.
The PARMEHUTU won the elections, and were backed by the Belgians. This shifted all the power to the Hutu intellectuals very quickly. Refugee land was parceled out, Hutus sued Tutsi for “historic land rights”, structural counter-oppression, and bursts of violence still scattered around the country. As refugees tried to return between 1961 and 1966, not only were they attacked, but other Tutsi across the country were killed. It’s estimated that over 10,000 were killed during these years.

Ridiculous Republics
Under the newly independent government, the “Masses” were redefined as exclusively Hutu. The opportunists were not satisfied with state reforms, and were constantly fighting for more. In 1973, Habyarimana takes power, and promises “peace and stability”. He still employed a systematic exclusion of the Tutsi, but the major physical violence was stopped. Unfortunately, the exclusion included from the military, so the army was almost completely Hutu. During the world-wide economic crisis of the mid-80s, currency was devalued, population was still rising, and there was a natural land shortage. Unfortunately, the stress of one generation is passed down to the next generation, including who to blame.

Confusion of the 90s
At the end of the Cold War, a wave of democracy crossed Africa (I think. At least it crossed Rwanda…) People were critiquing the ruling party, and more parties were building for the elections in the following year. One of the major points of contention was all of the displaced Rwandans. Many of them wanted to come home, but the government protested there wasn’t enough room. They did work on improving relationships with neighboring countries so the refugees and displaced citizens could be more comfortable where they were, but this was not satisfactory to the refugees who were organizing outside the country. In October, the RPF attacked in an attempt to get back into the country. This did not help anti-Tutsi sentiments at all.
There were 17 political parties by 1991, and the country was shifting to a multi-party government system. They all exploited the ethnic factor, all appealed to Hutus, and almost all employed violence. In 1992 and 1993, there was a coalition government, and 2,000 more people were killed.

The Lynch Pin
When the Arusha Peace Accords were signed between the government and the RPF at the end of 1993, the building radical party threatened that this would be one of the final acts of the reigning president. In the first week of April, 1994, the president’s plane was shot down at 8 in the evening. By midnight, there were roadblocks, and people were being pulled out of their beds and their houses and killed. In many regions, Tutsi leaders were encouraged to gather together in “safe hiding places” that they were then slaughtered in. Churches and schools that housed fugitives were destroyed. The main radio station that had been broadcasting propaganda for months was now instructing Hutu men married to Tutsi women to kill their family, because the kids probably weren’t theirs anyway.
Rwandan culture is highly organized, and teaches obedience to leadership and conformity. For the last number of years, lessons were veiled propaganda messages as well. Students were separated in the classroom by ethnicity and daily denounced. Math examples said things like “if you have 10 Tutsis, and kill 2, how many are left?”.

Reconciliation
In the last 15 years, Rwanda has rebuilt from no money, no government, no infrastructure, to a country with national public service days, 9 years of mandatory education, medical and scientific universities, and a newly completed paved road system. They have governmental agencies that are designed to reeducate the populace on tolerance and reconciliation. People give conferences that gather city leaders or teachers together, and speak whenever they’re asked by any group, that teach the true history back to the Rwandan people and explain that how someone looks is not an accurate indicator of ethnicity, nor does ethnicity indicate intelligence or personality traits. They have changed the identity cards so that there is no ethnic label anywhere. There are local courts based in neighborhoods and districts called Gacaca where people can be accused of and bear witness to genocide atrocities. The panel of judges decides what level of crime was committed, which determines the length of their jail sentence. The organizers and instigators are brought through a higher court system and have much more serious consequences. I honestly don’t know if they have been sentenced to death or just life imprisonment or what because no one likes to talk about immediately after the genocide.
People are very good about keeping up the image of unity. I know most of the older generation still harbors resentments and prejudices, and they are probably passing some of them down to their children. But the children here are much more willing to believe teachers and government officials than their parents, so education makes a HUGE impact. I think it also helps that even though people don’t want to interact with or trust their neighbors, as time goes on and positive interactions occur, cognitive dissonance can affect how people feel as well. The best opportunity for this is definitely public service day – when you all work together to build a school or clean a road or anything, it’s difficult not to build camaraderie.

***
Moving on. =)
The town I’m staying in used to be the capital of Rwanda, and is where the royal headquarters were located. Nearby, a replica of the traditional hut the king lived in and some of his compound has been erected next to the “modern palace” that had been a gift from the Belgians. On the edge of the property is the gravesite of the last king and queen. On the opposing hills is an art museum. This is the highest spot in the district, and standing on the balcony, you can see for miles upon miles. All the art has been created post-genocide. Some of it is obviously an expression of pain and healing, but much is representative of daily life. I think my favorite part is the different mediums employed. There were paintings, drawings, sculptures, and embroidery scenes. One piece was drawn, accented with sand, colored beads (really tiny, not much bigger than sand), and I think painted in sections. Some of the sculptures employed mirrors, and there was a crane built with natural resources in the area: papyrus, eucalyptus leaves and branches, etc…

Farther south of us is the city of Butare. This is where the first universities and secondary schools were built, and even though it was built up by the colonizers, it’s still a very large city and the schools are running strong. On our way down there, we stopped at a very unique memorial center. Because this was the center of education, many of who used to be the Tutsi leaders (and now 3 generations of their families) lived in this area. Their Hutu friends directed them towards an empty building that was designed to be a school for hiding and safety. There was no food, no water, and probably 30,000 tried to cram into and around this school. They were left alone for 2 weeks, and when the Interhamwe (the Hutu army) came, they were too weak to put up any resistance. The Hutu then used the building as a base center to hunt down fugitives in the forests and hills surrounding it. Now, in the 5 buildings that would have been classrooms, over 50,000 bodies are laid out, preserved in lye, exactly as they were exhumed. I couldn’t tell how emaciated they were when they were attacked, and how much was deterioration from the mass graves. In some rooms, all they had were distinct, separate bones that weren’t attached to a skeleton. In one of the large hallway type buildings are shelves and shelves of personal affects – anything not valuable was left behind.
I wish we could ask our language trainers how they feel going through these places, as it is their history and their families that were involved, but one does not ask those things here. Every now and again, someone will say “oh, my parents/siblings/cousins were killed in the genocide”; but is it is a passing comment that is expected to passed by in the course of the conversation.

In training, our pedagogy classes are finished and 1/3 of the group has started micro-teaching (small lessons to volunteer students in the community). This means they are missing some language classes, but we will all rotate through it. Unfortunately, that means they feel vastly unprepared for the language evaluations we have been having. I think I’m somewhere between 60 and 70% of where they want us to be. We have started figuring out verb tenses along with sets of vocabulary, and things are getting very tricky. Although, I keep reminding myself that I’m trying to reach the same level of fluency of 3 years of HS French in 9 weeks, and I accept that it’s going to be frustrating.
Alternately, because the classrooms at the center are now filled with practice teachers, we have had a LOT of free time this week. Don’t ask me what I did with it, I don’t really remember… I’ve read almost every book in this house that I want to. I’m almost done with Salman Rushdie “Fury”, and I’m borrowing an F Scott Fitzgerald collection next. I ventured back into the market (which I have been terrified to do since the first group visit the day we got here) and helped my housemates buy things for their Halloween costumes. I sat. a lot. And enjoyed relaxing.

Medical training was fun this week. :ahem: “fun” , I should say… I have a glimpse into the world of diabetics and having to prick your own finger for blood tests; but I must say, the handy dandy spring loaded needles are much easier to use than the metal point I have to jab into myself. We also went back to 7th grade for a nice review of all the STDs and what they can look like. We also learned how to say all the “dirty words” in Kinyarwanda, and everyone giggled like a 12 year old boy.

The first care packages started to arrive! Lucky me, two of them were girls in my room. Loads of candy is always fun to parcel out. People have also gotten some really cute letters and cards from friends and family. Chris’s mom used an entire day’s newspaper to pack her box, so we now have sports articles and comics and things to amuse us by. I think it will also help to be able to use the articles as teaching tools later.
If you want to send me anything, get me your email address and I will set you up with the “Charissa Care Package Crew” who are collecting items to be sent together. =D

11 tips from other PCVs in Rwanda:
1 – Schools expect teachers to be in contact with their students. I mean, give them your number so they can call you at home if they have any questions, etc.
2 – A good way to get to know your students is doing a mid-term or end of term exam (since they’re on trimesters) where they get to talk to you for 15 minutes, but must do it in English. If you don’t ask questions, you aren’t pushing, and they will open up to you way more than you can anticipate
3 – Students expect teachers to be pretty open and to know a lot about their personal lives
4 – Evaluate while deciding how aggressive to be with your students. Try and discern between psychological behavioral outbursts and discipline behavioral issues.
5 – Teacher / Student relationships are not uncommon. Sometimes they are manipulative in one direction or the other, but when you have a Senior 5 class (Jr yr in HS) with ages varying from 15-36, it makes a little more sense. Many times, you will see relationships come to light after year end exams.
6 – The line between teacher and parent roles is not only blurred, but you are encouraged to be parental figures to your students. This is because of orphans, traumatized parents and grandparents, and the role of the school in building a new mindset for the country.
7 – you Will be asked to support students for their school fees.
8 – what you do Will be seen. Because secondary schools are often boarding schools, your students can live anywhere. If you go into the capital or anywhere away from your town, you never know who you will run in to. Especially because many of your students will be adults.
9 – Negotiate boundaries with your colleagues, professionally and personally. Find a way to share resources / help them develop their own.
10 – Dress nicely!
11 – Be friendly and social, interact with your colleagues. If you don’t spend any time with them, they will think you’re a terrible teacher and say so. If you engage with them, they think you’re amazing, no matter how bad your lessons are.

Umuganda –
Umuganda is the national service day on the last Saturday of every month. We all participated in our district and marched up the road to help build a school. The walls were already erected and had supports for the roof and windows, so we were working on the floors. The whole town. There was a giant hole about 20 yards from the building where they had dug up the dirt so it was loose and could be transported to the new building. One set of people stood on the pile of dirt and used shovels and hoes to fill our rice sacks, water jugs cut in half, buckets, baskets, and finally, someone found some wheelbarrows, which we hauled to the doorways and window openings where there were men inside who would dump the dirt and spread it out, filling holes from tree stumps and rocks and making an even, solid surface. Michelle and I picked a sack and filled it to the brim and hauled back and forth, non-stop for almost 2 hours. It took us a while to convince the diggers that we really did want more dirt in the sack, but once they figured it out, our shovelers loved us. They kept calling us “strong girls” and would wave us to the front of the crowd when they saw us coming back. The men inside the rooms were just flabbergasted (thanks sean, it’s a good word =) at how fast we made rounds, and just how much dirt we were bringing in.
At the end, when all the floors were as full as they could be of dirt (and it was starting to rain) we all gathered together to listen to a speech from the Mayor and vice-Mayor of Economics. Much of the speech was encouraging unity and a strong Rwanda, and that everyone that came together to work was building a better future and opportunity for their children. They even sang twice. (everyone, the whole crowd, led by the mayors) But the best part was the vice-mayor said “the foreigners are here and have joined us. They worked very hard this morning and are really a part of our community now, so when you see them on the street, don’t ask them for things! And look how strong their girls are! Maybe you can find some good wives; did you get their phone numbers?”
It was a good start to a GREAT day. I LOVED running around and working that hard and sweating and being strong. I have no coordination and no balance, so being athletic is out of the questions, but I really enjoy manual labor! After Umuganda, we all went back and a lot of us just collapsed, but I took a bucket bath and shaved my legs for the first time in 2 weeks (yes Charlynn, monkey legs). And I started typing this thing (I hope you guys realize how much time it takes just to tell y’all what I do with my time =). And then Scott came over to start cooking for our Halloween party! He was making Three-Ways. Apparently in Ohio, this is not dirty word, but a term for spaghetti, chili, and cheese. So almost all of the girls here in the Kitchen House got involved in some form or another. I helped Ashley cut/grate the Gouda cheese, and then helped our Rwandan cook Betty cut bell peppers while Ashley stirred them into the spice mixture. I HAD SO MUCH FUN!!! That was the most teamwork I have seen since I joined the PC and we put on Wicked and Chris got to play with the fire and it was just Awesome.
After we were all prepped, we gathered together the final pieces of our costumes. Bethel did my make-up, and I pulled off a very nice Gypsy. Chris was Quail-Man, Ashley was a Newsie, Katie was from the 80s, and we had 31 other awesome costumes. Austin was “a creeper”. Even our trainers got in on it – a lot of people were dressing up like other members of our crew. People started to gather at our house before the festivities got started, and some girls from another house put all the decorations together at the center. They folded paper cups and hand-decorated each one and filled them with candy for each place setting. Everyone was SO excited for the chili, but after 2 bites, people were sweating and blushing and Dying. Apparently chili powder in Rwanda is stronger than in the US and it was almost inedible. Thank goodness for the cheese! Scott felt just terrible; he was so looking forward to sharing this. He personally promised a lot of us better chili when we visit him at his site.
After dinner, we all grabbed our drinks (I, personally, had vodka and coke all night) and settled down for the talent show. Probably one of the funniest things I have even seen/been a part of. We had acts like “matt’s first hand-stand”, Janelle’s Halloween jokes, interpretive dance with headlamps, some Rwandan dancing – two of our girl language teachers opened beer bottles with their teeth! There is now a video of me performing an Ethiopian dance, I will send it home as soon as possible!! I also helped lead “Amazing Grace” in a round.
Apparently, in Rwanda, you need a permit for noise pollution / large gatherings to last past 10 PM. So the party moved back to my house where they set up speakers and we had a dance party for another 3 hours.
Best Halloween Ever. The only other one to come close was when we had our French foreign exchange student and we got to teach him about it and he got to be a terrible “Chicago Gangster”. Ya know, like Al Capone. =)

Ok, I think that’s all I can fit in for this week. Thanks for reading and commenting and writing back!
PS. I have added links to other Rwanda blogs on the side, so if you’re at all interested in some differing views, they could give you a more complete picture of life here.