The internet is down quite often, so although it's 1:00am in Rwanda, I'm taking advantage of having access! (You may notice that my posts are dated pretty frequently, but I'm playing around with the dates so that they reflect the day and time when I'm actually writing them offline. I post when I'm lucky enough to get a signal.)
Just some interesting things...
In Rwanda, when they mean 'yes', they shake their head 'no'. But they mean 'no problem'. So, they really mean 'yes'. But, when they mean 'no', they say "oh ya". Very confusing! Also, when you wave you hand 'goodbye' by bending your fingers down (like you would with a young child), it means 'come here'. This is why so many children have been chasing our van as we drive through the villages! If you rest your hands on your head, it means your parents have died.
Also, they say "sorry" if something uncomfortable is happening to you. I have come back from the market with several heavy bags of rice, and as the hotel security guard helped me to my room, he repeated "sorry" with each step up the stairs. Apparently, he was sorry that I was carrying bags as well.
Also, if a man leaves his family for three months, he will be imprisoned for six months. But, if a woman leaves her family for one and a half months, she will be imprisoned for a year because "the mother is the heart of the family."
Although they are Christian, Rwandans keep somewhat kosher. They will never mix the milk of an animal with the meat of an animal. For example, beef with cow's milk is taboo. So is chicken with egg. But, beef with goat's milk would be somewhat alright. Essentially, it's disrespectful to drink the cow's milk and also eat her child.
The number one thing that children beg for is "agachupa", or 'water bottle'. They know "muzungoes" ('white people') only drink out of bottles, so they ask for the empties to reuse. As we drive down the more remote roads, child chase us screaming "agachupa, agachupa, agachupa".
So, now you know some interesting things about Rwanda!
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Monday, August 20, 2007
Today I saw the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen
Yesterday we went to the Acagara game park, where we drove around for six hours, and saw many zebras, the ears and eyes of many hippos, a few impalas, and some cow-like creatures (I can’t remember their name). We saw no lions, giraffes, rhinos, or elephants. To tell you the truth, by the end of the drive, I was half wishing for our own “when elephants attack” story, just to throw some adventure into the mix.
But today. Today I saw the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen…
I saw dignity
We started our day with a visit to the “Catch Up School”. It is a section of the primary school dedicated to providing accelerated education to older students. Unlike the students in Canada, these students crave education, but were unable to attend school because their parents died and they had to raise their siblings. Or because one parent died, so they must work to feed the family. Or because their parents could not afford the uniform.
Rather than putting the students through the embarrassment of Primary 1 to 6, the classes are divided into Levels 1 to 3, with students aged 8 - 20 in all classes. I would love to show the kids back home how much these students want to go to school!
Several shared their story with us. Samson is 20 years old and attending school for the first time. Another young man (I didn’t catch his name) stood up and told us that he was a “houseboy” in Kigali for all of his life, and that World Vision convinced him he must go to school. They provided him with a uniform, school supplies, and soap, so that he would be able to start. He now wants to tell others in his situation that they must go to school; he is so proud. As we told the students that they were very courageous for starting school as young adults, one stood up and told us that many of his colleagues (from previous work) make fun of him for going to school with young children, but that he continues to encourage them to follow in his steps, so that they may have a better life.
I saw dancing
One of the classes wanted to give us a gift. As we sat down in the desks, a drum started beating louder and louder, building up the anticipation, increasing our heart rates. As the drum reached it’s loudest, bells began to jingle outside. Dancers, dressed in traditional garb, complete with headdresses and bells on their ankles began to weave into the room. A choir began singing a beautiful song which filled the room, so loud you could feel it in your chest. I looked for the choir, and realized it was only four girls!
The girls’ feet danced with vigour, yet their tops moved with the elegance of a ballerina. Two boys danced around them with spears (fake), waving their long, straw headdresses around like head bangers at a heavy metal concert – only graceful and joyful.
The song the children sang was written for NGO’s, government officials, and foreigners. The message is that child labour must be stopped and education is the only way children will be able to shape their future. Pretty powerful coming from children and young adults who have been digging ditches, fetching water, scrubbing latrines, and herding goats since they were four years old.
I saw peace and reconciliation
Later, we met with people from World Vision’s HPR (Healing, Peace building, Reconciliation) group. I’ve read stories, but I never believed people like this existed. What powerful testimonies.
The genocide was planned for a very long time. Since childhood, Hutu children were taught that Tustis were dangerous, not to be trusted. They were told to sit apart in school. They were told not to play with one another. They were even taught that one day there would be a war, and the Hutus must win. The government spent many years teaching them to hate.
[Warning: This next paragraph is graphic.]
Alice was a Tutsi. In 1992, she was about to begin secondary school, but was turned away because the government has decided to stop wasting education on Tutsis… they had already decided that Tutsis were dead men walking. She married, had a baby, and continued on living. Then, her house was burned down. The government apologized and promised there would be peace ahead. But, on April 10, 1994, Alice found herself crammed into the small Ntamara church with 5000 others believing that the militia would not kill them in this holy place. As the militia entered, Alice and her husband fled, losing each other along the way. Alice was found by the militia, stripped to her underwear, and beaten in the head with a club covered in nails. The militia tossed her baby into the air and cut her in half in one slash of the machete. As her baby lay beside her, the militia drove a spear through Alice’s arm, chopped off her hand, and left her for dead.
Alice’s husband survived, as did Alice – barely. She went on to have five beautiful children, never forgetting the one she lost. In fact, one of her children is sponsored by one of our team members.
Emanuel White (there were two Emanuels, one wore white, the other blue, so I will refer to them this way) told his story. Alice rubbed his arm and encouraged him as he told the story of being recruited by the militia, raiding Tutsi homes, and murdering in cold blood. Emanuel White was the one who beat Alice and cut off her hand.
Emanuel White was released from prison in 2003, and found Alice to beg for her forgiveness. She did not recognize him, but he admitted to what he had done. She forgave him, and together they went to World Vision’s HPR group. Today, they are good friends. He gives her rides on his bike when they have meetings together. When he needs something, she shares with him; when she needs something, he shares with her. Emanuel White has shown remorse to the entire community and is now the chairperson of their village’s World Vision Sponsorship Committee. Alice is the Secretary.
Emanuel Blue (blue shirt) told his story once Alice and Emanuel White were finished. As Beatrice sat beside him, occasionally holding his hand (hand holding is very common here, even between men), he spoke of how he killed her five children. She escaped, and he was angry with her for that, so he stole the tin sheets off of her home.
As the RPF (the “good guys”) began taking over the country, Emanuel Blue fled to the Congo. Then, in 1996 he decided to come home and turn himself in. He spent the next seven years in prison, where he received counselling – along with other prisoners – to accept what he had done. This may seem odd to you, but you have to realise that years and years of brainwashing by the government and schools led up to the events of 1994. When he was released in 2003, he went to Beatrice for forgiveness and she refused. He went back again, this time with his whole family, to kneel and beg for forgiveness. This time she accepted.
Emanuel Blue knew he could not give Beatrice her children back, nor did he have any money to help her financially. But, after nine years, her saw that the sheets of metal he had stolen off of her house were never replaced. So, he went to World Vision to ask for their help. World Vision provided him with the metal (essentially killing two birds with one stone, by providing Beatrice with shelter and aiding the reconciliation process), and he repaired her home.
Like Emanuel White and Alice, Emanuel Blue and Beatrice are good friends. After sharing their testimonies, we ate lunch, and I saw that the forgiveness and friendship is genuine. They laughed with each other. Emanuel White cut Alice’s food for her. They hugged.
As we left, both Emanuels told us that they know of some genocide perpetrators that are hiding in Canada. They wanted us to find these men and tell them to go home and face the consequences, and that Rwanda is now a free country with no capital punishment.
On the way home we drove past the Ministry of Defence and our translator, Costa, informed me that the Minister of Defence was a member of “the army that lost” (meaning the government army that fought the RPF). The current president, Paul Kigami was the leader of the RPF. I couldn’t understand how this man (the minister) was allowed to be in power. Costa told me that he was not part of the genocide; he only fought the RPF. I asked, “then wasn’t he Kigami’s enemy?” To which Costa replied , “that is peace and reconciliation.”
But today. Today I saw the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen…
I saw dignity
We started our day with a visit to the “Catch Up School”. It is a section of the primary school dedicated to providing accelerated education to older students. Unlike the students in Canada, these students crave education, but were unable to attend school because their parents died and they had to raise their siblings. Or because one parent died, so they must work to feed the family. Or because their parents could not afford the uniform.
Rather than putting the students through the embarrassment of Primary 1 to 6, the classes are divided into Levels 1 to 3, with students aged 8 - 20 in all classes. I would love to show the kids back home how much these students want to go to school!
Several shared their story with us. Samson is 20 years old and attending school for the first time. Another young man (I didn’t catch his name) stood up and told us that he was a “houseboy” in Kigali for all of his life, and that World Vision convinced him he must go to school. They provided him with a uniform, school supplies, and soap, so that he would be able to start. He now wants to tell others in his situation that they must go to school; he is so proud. As we told the students that they were very courageous for starting school as young adults, one stood up and told us that many of his colleagues (from previous work) make fun of him for going to school with young children, but that he continues to encourage them to follow in his steps, so that they may have a better life.
I saw dancing
One of the classes wanted to give us a gift. As we sat down in the desks, a drum started beating louder and louder, building up the anticipation, increasing our heart rates. As the drum reached it’s loudest, bells began to jingle outside. Dancers, dressed in traditional garb, complete with headdresses and bells on their ankles began to weave into the room. A choir began singing a beautiful song which filled the room, so loud you could feel it in your chest. I looked for the choir, and realized it was only four girls!
The girls’ feet danced with vigour, yet their tops moved with the elegance of a ballerina. Two boys danced around them with spears (fake), waving their long, straw headdresses around like head bangers at a heavy metal concert – only graceful and joyful.
The song the children sang was written for NGO’s, government officials, and foreigners. The message is that child labour must be stopped and education is the only way children will be able to shape their future. Pretty powerful coming from children and young adults who have been digging ditches, fetching water, scrubbing latrines, and herding goats since they were four years old.
I saw peace and reconciliation
Later, we met with people from World Vision’s HPR (Healing, Peace building, Reconciliation) group. I’ve read stories, but I never believed people like this existed. What powerful testimonies.
The genocide was planned for a very long time. Since childhood, Hutu children were taught that Tustis were dangerous, not to be trusted. They were told to sit apart in school. They were told not to play with one another. They were even taught that one day there would be a war, and the Hutus must win. The government spent many years teaching them to hate.
[Warning: This next paragraph is graphic.]
Alice was a Tutsi. In 1992, she was about to begin secondary school, but was turned away because the government has decided to stop wasting education on Tutsis… they had already decided that Tutsis were dead men walking. She married, had a baby, and continued on living. Then, her house was burned down. The government apologized and promised there would be peace ahead. But, on April 10, 1994, Alice found herself crammed into the small Ntamara church with 5000 others believing that the militia would not kill them in this holy place. As the militia entered, Alice and her husband fled, losing each other along the way. Alice was found by the militia, stripped to her underwear, and beaten in the head with a club covered in nails. The militia tossed her baby into the air and cut her in half in one slash of the machete. As her baby lay beside her, the militia drove a spear through Alice’s arm, chopped off her hand, and left her for dead.
Alice’s husband survived, as did Alice – barely. She went on to have five beautiful children, never forgetting the one she lost. In fact, one of her children is sponsored by one of our team members.
Emanuel White (there were two Emanuels, one wore white, the other blue, so I will refer to them this way) told his story. Alice rubbed his arm and encouraged him as he told the story of being recruited by the militia, raiding Tutsi homes, and murdering in cold blood. Emanuel White was the one who beat Alice and cut off her hand.
Emanuel White was released from prison in 2003, and found Alice to beg for her forgiveness. She did not recognize him, but he admitted to what he had done. She forgave him, and together they went to World Vision’s HPR group. Today, they are good friends. He gives her rides on his bike when they have meetings together. When he needs something, she shares with him; when she needs something, he shares with her. Emanuel White has shown remorse to the entire community and is now the chairperson of their village’s World Vision Sponsorship Committee. Alice is the Secretary.
Emanuel Blue (blue shirt) told his story once Alice and Emanuel White were finished. As Beatrice sat beside him, occasionally holding his hand (hand holding is very common here, even between men), he spoke of how he killed her five children. She escaped, and he was angry with her for that, so he stole the tin sheets off of her home.
As the RPF (the “good guys”) began taking over the country, Emanuel Blue fled to the Congo. Then, in 1996 he decided to come home and turn himself in. He spent the next seven years in prison, where he received counselling – along with other prisoners – to accept what he had done. This may seem odd to you, but you have to realise that years and years of brainwashing by the government and schools led up to the events of 1994. When he was released in 2003, he went to Beatrice for forgiveness and she refused. He went back again, this time with his whole family, to kneel and beg for forgiveness. This time she accepted.
Emanuel Blue knew he could not give Beatrice her children back, nor did he have any money to help her financially. But, after nine years, her saw that the sheets of metal he had stolen off of her house were never replaced. So, he went to World Vision to ask for their help. World Vision provided him with the metal (essentially killing two birds with one stone, by providing Beatrice with shelter and aiding the reconciliation process), and he repaired her home.
Like Emanuel White and Alice, Emanuel Blue and Beatrice are good friends. After sharing their testimonies, we ate lunch, and I saw that the forgiveness and friendship is genuine. They laughed with each other. Emanuel White cut Alice’s food for her. They hugged.
As we left, both Emanuels told us that they know of some genocide perpetrators that are hiding in Canada. They wanted us to find these men and tell them to go home and face the consequences, and that Rwanda is now a free country with no capital punishment.
On the way home we drove past the Ministry of Defence and our translator, Costa, informed me that the Minister of Defence was a member of “the army that lost” (meaning the government army that fought the RPF). The current president, Paul Kigami was the leader of the RPF. I couldn’t understand how this man (the minister) was allowed to be in power. Costa told me that he was not part of the genocide; he only fought the RPF. I asked, “then wasn’t he Kigami’s enemy?” To which Costa replied , “that is peace and reconciliation.”
Saturday, August 18, 2007
A land of many contrasts
Before I start, I just have to mention a quote from Francoise, which I forgot to include in my last post… I think it’s priceless. We asked her if she would like to marry eventually. She grimaced and told us that she was going to keep trying to further her education. If she failed at that, then she “may resort to finding a partner.”
Okay, on with today’s posting………….
Rain and drought.
Thick green banana trees, tall grass and winding red clay roads.
Abject poverty with joyful spirits.
Peaceful and kind communities with the memories of unimaginable evil.
Today was another full day and I know I must write it all down as fast as I can, because the details are already becoming hazy as my need for sleep kicks in. Today we visited many of the children which we found sponsors for back home. I was able to see four out of five, so I kept busy.
Cascuis, translator extraordinaire, Tricia, another volunteer who was able to take pictures for me (my camera is still refusing to return to life), and I set out to first visit Charlotte.
Charlotte
Charlotte is Debbie and Danielle Hughes’ sponsor child. Armed with heavy gifts, including two 15-pound bags of rice, our van dropped us off at the base of a narrow footpath. We thought we only had a short way to go. After a 20-minute hike, we heard children screaming and laughing as they ran down to greet us. As we reached the house, we realized that it was Charlotte (8), her brother Godebert (7), her sister Emile (4), and her best friend/ neighbour Ange (7). Charlotte’s mother, Godelive, greeted us at the gate (her father, Charles, was at the market). Charlotte is in Grade 2 and her favourite subject is the local language, Kinyarwanda. Her family was very insistent that Debbie and Danielle must come visit them in Rwanda, so start saving your pennies girls!
Charlotte’s family has a cow and a small plot of land on which they grow cassava and bananas. They are extremely proud. While we visited, it began to rain, and like so many of the other Rwandans, the family jokingly thanked the Canadians for bringing the rain. As we left, it began to pour down and we made our way back down the steep trail, this time covered in slippery mud. The kids led the way and seemed to have no trouble in their bare feet, although my running shoes didn’t fair so well! All part of the adventure!
Jean D’Amore
Next we went to see Geoff and Katherine Kalsbeek’s sponsor child. With his huge eyes and big smile, he is a very beautiful boy… and I think he knows it! As I unveiled gifts of rice, cookies, Nutella, and school supplies, he whispered in my ear “Gimme football.” Unfortunately, I didn’t have one to give him, but Casuis informed me that Jean D’Amore lives and breathes football, so I will arrange to get him one later. We will also be buying his family a goat, which will provide them with milk, fertilizer, and kids for selling at market.
Both of Jean D’Amore’s parents were killed in the genocide when he was just a baby. He was sent to an orphanage. After the genocide, people started passing pictures of these unidentified orphans around, and his grandmother recognized him. Since then, he has lived with the grandmother, Stephanie, and Aunt Clarissa. Clarissa seems very young and has a one-year-old boy named Sharma (who I think may be the cutest baby ever). Her dream for him is that he will grow up to study. Clarissa also wanted to send God’s blessing to Canada and Geoff and Katherine on behalf of the family.
Jean D’Amore has decided that when he grows up he will be the president of Rwanda. And he is charismatic enough that is just might happen for him. I told him that we would watch for him on TV and were proud to be invited to the future president’s home. His is quite close with his soccer teammates (Patrick, Fabiola, and Oliver), and they joined in our visit. I gave the little cousin one of the dolls Joan Hunter knitted (which are a big hit all over Rwanda, by the way!), and all these tough 13-year-old soccer players wanted a doll of their own!
Later on in the day, we saw Jean D’Amour again, and he again whispered to me, “Gimme football. Gimme money. Gimme pens.” Turns out that my translator, Cascuis, is “best friends” (I believe we would call him a mentor or “big brother”) with Jean D’Amore, and I’m pretty sure the poor kid got in trouble after we left. Really though, these children have nothing, so can we blame them for asking for more when we come with a few gifts?
Most of the children in his area are genocide orphans. Though some of the details may be lost in translation, I believe that virtually the entire community was wiped out in the senseless slaughter. You may have seen the Ntamara Memorial in movies and on TV. Over a period of 52 hours, over 5000 men, women, and children who had taken refuge in the small village church were beaten with sticks, hacked with machetes, and burned alive. The victims’ clothes are now hung from the walls and rafters of the church in remembrance, along with three large shelves of skulls (many of them no bigger than my fist), one shelf of hipbones, and one shelf piled with extremities. Jean D’Amore and his friends live within 100 yards of this church.
Jean Pierre and Assumpta
Jean Pierre (7) is our sponsor child. Assumpta (10) is Angela and Brian’s. They are brother and sister, but I didn’t find that out until as we arrived on their doorstep. In Rwanda, parents pick the child’s last name upon birth, just like the first name. Wives also keep their own name. So in a family of five, you could have five different last names. When we found out that they were siblings, we thought we perhaps had too many gifts. However, once we stepped inside, we found out that there are six children, so the two large bags of rice and jars of Nutella were very welcome. The home also appears to be the local neighbourhood hangout.
Agnes is the mother and appears to take charge in the family. Gilbert is the father. Gilles is 22 and was at school during the visit; he is studying to become a veterinarian. Jacques is 19 and also in school, although he has not yet selected a vocation. Next is Emanuel (15), Aime Patrick (12), Assumpta (10), and Jean Pierre (7). There were two more children who died, but I do not know when or how.
Assumpta is a quite girl with certain elegance. She wants to be a teacher. Jean Pierre was extremely shy at the beginning, but after about 20 minutes, I caught him hanging onto my leg and staring up at me with a huge grin. He wouldn’t let go of my hand for the rest of the visit. The family has one cow and a goat, and we will be purchasing another goat for them by the end of our trip. They also have a small field in the back where they grow cassava, sorghum, and bananas (like so many other Rwandans). Still pouring rain, and Jean Pierre and Assumpta each grabbed my hand to show me around the land. Jean Pierre loves taking care of the cow and wants to be a veterinarian when he grows up. I told him, Assumpta, and their father (who was very interested) a bit about Angela and Brian’s farm, but I know that they want pictures and would like to hear much more.
Other experiences today…
Make no mistake, the poverty is real. And it has already hit us hard on the trip. Rwanda is much cooler and damper than we expected, and although the rain is good for nutrition, the houses are drafty and the stagnant water breeds mosquitoes (just an annoyance in Canada, but can be deadly in Rwanda). Today one of our other volunteers visited a sponsor child and discovered that her infant sister had died just yesterday. Causes are unknown. No doctor. No medicine. Mom gave birth to twins two weeks ago by herself at home. Today, one is gone.
Though the children are loved by their families and cared for by the communities, they are starving to find their own value. The flock to us everywhere we go, sometimes to dig through our pockets for “bonbons”, but they are quite satisfied just to play. One little girl – I’d say she was about three – reached up wanting me to pick her up. I did, and she rested her head on my shoulder for a while. She was heavy, so I put he down several times, but each time I did so, she would reach back up. As we left, I put her down for the last time, and she chased our vehicle crying, “Mama.” It seems surreal to me to have such a connection with a child… a human being, and never even get their name (she wouldn’t talk). Then drive away knowing that you will probably never see them again.
Well, I’ve gone on long enough. So, as the children hear say it: Bye-Yeeeeeeeee (two syllables), and Goot Niy-at (no matter what time of day it is).
Okay, on with today’s posting………….
Rain and drought.
Thick green banana trees, tall grass and winding red clay roads.
Abject poverty with joyful spirits.
Peaceful and kind communities with the memories of unimaginable evil.
Today was another full day and I know I must write it all down as fast as I can, because the details are already becoming hazy as my need for sleep kicks in. Today we visited many of the children which we found sponsors for back home. I was able to see four out of five, so I kept busy.
Cascuis, translator extraordinaire, Tricia, another volunteer who was able to take pictures for me (my camera is still refusing to return to life), and I set out to first visit Charlotte.
Charlotte
Charlotte is Debbie and Danielle Hughes’ sponsor child. Armed with heavy gifts, including two 15-pound bags of rice, our van dropped us off at the base of a narrow footpath. We thought we only had a short way to go. After a 20-minute hike, we heard children screaming and laughing as they ran down to greet us. As we reached the house, we realized that it was Charlotte (8), her brother Godebert (7), her sister Emile (4), and her best friend/ neighbour Ange (7). Charlotte’s mother, Godelive, greeted us at the gate (her father, Charles, was at the market). Charlotte is in Grade 2 and her favourite subject is the local language, Kinyarwanda. Her family was very insistent that Debbie and Danielle must come visit them in Rwanda, so start saving your pennies girls!
Charlotte’s family has a cow and a small plot of land on which they grow cassava and bananas. They are extremely proud. While we visited, it began to rain, and like so many of the other Rwandans, the family jokingly thanked the Canadians for bringing the rain. As we left, it began to pour down and we made our way back down the steep trail, this time covered in slippery mud. The kids led the way and seemed to have no trouble in their bare feet, although my running shoes didn’t fair so well! All part of the adventure!
Jean D’Amore
Next we went to see Geoff and Katherine Kalsbeek’s sponsor child. With his huge eyes and big smile, he is a very beautiful boy… and I think he knows it! As I unveiled gifts of rice, cookies, Nutella, and school supplies, he whispered in my ear “Gimme football.” Unfortunately, I didn’t have one to give him, but Casuis informed me that Jean D’Amore lives and breathes football, so I will arrange to get him one later. We will also be buying his family a goat, which will provide them with milk, fertilizer, and kids for selling at market.
Both of Jean D’Amore’s parents were killed in the genocide when he was just a baby. He was sent to an orphanage. After the genocide, people started passing pictures of these unidentified orphans around, and his grandmother recognized him. Since then, he has lived with the grandmother, Stephanie, and Aunt Clarissa. Clarissa seems very young and has a one-year-old boy named Sharma (who I think may be the cutest baby ever). Her dream for him is that he will grow up to study. Clarissa also wanted to send God’s blessing to Canada and Geoff and Katherine on behalf of the family.
Jean D’Amore has decided that when he grows up he will be the president of Rwanda. And he is charismatic enough that is just might happen for him. I told him that we would watch for him on TV and were proud to be invited to the future president’s home. His is quite close with his soccer teammates (Patrick, Fabiola, and Oliver), and they joined in our visit. I gave the little cousin one of the dolls Joan Hunter knitted (which are a big hit all over Rwanda, by the way!), and all these tough 13-year-old soccer players wanted a doll of their own!
Later on in the day, we saw Jean D’Amour again, and he again whispered to me, “Gimme football. Gimme money. Gimme pens.” Turns out that my translator, Cascuis, is “best friends” (I believe we would call him a mentor or “big brother”) with Jean D’Amore, and I’m pretty sure the poor kid got in trouble after we left. Really though, these children have nothing, so can we blame them for asking for more when we come with a few gifts?
Most of the children in his area are genocide orphans. Though some of the details may be lost in translation, I believe that virtually the entire community was wiped out in the senseless slaughter. You may have seen the Ntamara Memorial in movies and on TV. Over a period of 52 hours, over 5000 men, women, and children who had taken refuge in the small village church were beaten with sticks, hacked with machetes, and burned alive. The victims’ clothes are now hung from the walls and rafters of the church in remembrance, along with three large shelves of skulls (many of them no bigger than my fist), one shelf of hipbones, and one shelf piled with extremities. Jean D’Amore and his friends live within 100 yards of this church.
Jean Pierre and Assumpta
Jean Pierre (7) is our sponsor child. Assumpta (10) is Angela and Brian’s. They are brother and sister, but I didn’t find that out until as we arrived on their doorstep. In Rwanda, parents pick the child’s last name upon birth, just like the first name. Wives also keep their own name. So in a family of five, you could have five different last names. When we found out that they were siblings, we thought we perhaps had too many gifts. However, once we stepped inside, we found out that there are six children, so the two large bags of rice and jars of Nutella were very welcome. The home also appears to be the local neighbourhood hangout.
Agnes is the mother and appears to take charge in the family. Gilbert is the father. Gilles is 22 and was at school during the visit; he is studying to become a veterinarian. Jacques is 19 and also in school, although he has not yet selected a vocation. Next is Emanuel (15), Aime Patrick (12), Assumpta (10), and Jean Pierre (7). There were two more children who died, but I do not know when or how.
Assumpta is a quite girl with certain elegance. She wants to be a teacher. Jean Pierre was extremely shy at the beginning, but after about 20 minutes, I caught him hanging onto my leg and staring up at me with a huge grin. He wouldn’t let go of my hand for the rest of the visit. The family has one cow and a goat, and we will be purchasing another goat for them by the end of our trip. They also have a small field in the back where they grow cassava, sorghum, and bananas (like so many other Rwandans). Still pouring rain, and Jean Pierre and Assumpta each grabbed my hand to show me around the land. Jean Pierre loves taking care of the cow and wants to be a veterinarian when he grows up. I told him, Assumpta, and their father (who was very interested) a bit about Angela and Brian’s farm, but I know that they want pictures and would like to hear much more.
Other experiences today…
Make no mistake, the poverty is real. And it has already hit us hard on the trip. Rwanda is much cooler and damper than we expected, and although the rain is good for nutrition, the houses are drafty and the stagnant water breeds mosquitoes (just an annoyance in Canada, but can be deadly in Rwanda). Today one of our other volunteers visited a sponsor child and discovered that her infant sister had died just yesterday. Causes are unknown. No doctor. No medicine. Mom gave birth to twins two weeks ago by herself at home. Today, one is gone.
Though the children are loved by their families and cared for by the communities, they are starving to find their own value. The flock to us everywhere we go, sometimes to dig through our pockets for “bonbons”, but they are quite satisfied just to play. One little girl – I’d say she was about three – reached up wanting me to pick her up. I did, and she rested her head on my shoulder for a while. She was heavy, so I put he down several times, but each time I did so, she would reach back up. As we left, I put her down for the last time, and she chased our vehicle crying, “Mama.” It seems surreal to me to have such a connection with a child… a human being, and never even get their name (she wouldn’t talk). Then drive away knowing that you will probably never see them again.
Well, I’ve gone on long enough. So, as the children hear say it: Bye-Yeeeeeeeee (two syllables), and Goot Niy-at (no matter what time of day it is).
Friday, August 17, 2007
Meeting Rwanda
I finally arrived in Kigali yesterday, and as the rest of my team had arrived the day before, I jumped right into it. We visited the genocide memorial. There are memorials all over the country, but this one is the largest with over 258,000 buried. Just for a moment, imagine if over one tenth of all Canadians were to be murdered by mid-November. That’s what these people survived. They are still finding new bodies, so they continue to build mass graves (pictured). The memorial is set up as a museum documenting the events leading up the genocide, honouring the children who were murdered, and telling the stories of this century’s other genocides.
Yesterday was wrapped up at the Hotel Milles Calliones (Hotel Rwanda). Not where the movie was filmed, but where the actually events took place.
Today was absolutely amazing… unfortunately, my camera decided to stop working, so I don’t have many pictures to post. (My team is made up of a bunch of shutterbugs, so I’m not too worried. You will just have to wait until after my trip to see the pictures.)
First, we went to the World Vision Nyamata office and heard a little about the projects they are managing:
1) Sponsorship (2800 kids)
2) Education
3) Healing, Peace building, and Reconciliation (pertaining to the genocide)
4) HIV/ AIDS (they urge people who are affected to join advocacy associations)
5) Food security (Rwanda is very green right now, but they did experience a severe drought in 2003)
They have also initiated several communities support programs. Mentorship is extremely important, and orphans and vulnerable children are given a mentor who will visit them frequently and who will be there when the children have a problem. The health problems in Nyamata are ones we would never dream of experiecing. Malaria, HIV, malnutrition, and worms are the most common.
After the WV office, we visited a local school. It was started up as a partnership between WV and the parents in the community. Apparently, these kids have the best grades in the district… I saw the math they were doing in Grade 5, and we didn’t touch that stuff until Grade 11! After we asked our questions, the kids were given the chance to ask us questions. One precocious little guy stood up and said, “Before we asked you to bring computers, and you still haven’t brought any.” After the Q&A period, we started handing out candy, and the kids got downright vicious! At one point, I had a swarm of about 20 shove me up against a wall and start grabbing at my pockets and purse! It was quite comical, but a little scary as well!
Before we left, the headmaster told us about several needs. Please keep these in mind to see if you can help or know anyone who might be able/ willing to:
1) He asked that we pray for the school, the management, the parents, and the students.
2) We would like us to help initiate a correspondence program between their classes and classes back in Canada. This one should be easy guys… spread the word with any teachers you know!
3) They need computers and electricity to run them. (They need money!)
Next, we went to see Joseanne. She is a very young widow caring for her four children. Two of her girls are sponsored. A few years ago, World Vision built them a house. Small and simple by our standards, but I have never seen anyone shine with so much pride! She could not wipe the ear-to-ear grin off of her face! She told us that before she received her house, she could not care for her children and felt useless. Not, she knows she is valuable. She has quite a large yard, and is working on building a lean-to at the back in anticipation for receiving a cow. I can’t wait to post pictures of her and her children… this woman is the epitome of the word gracious.
As the crowds of children gathered outside of Joseanne’s home, we realized what true poverty is. Three and four year olds had babies strapped to their back. A couple were naked. We gave them candies and toothbrushes. Before realising that we has enough to go around, one precious little girl crushed her Werthers, and then spat it out into tiny pieces so she could share it with her friends.
After that we visited another family who received a home from World Vision. At 23 years old, Franciose has been the head of her household since the genocide (1994… you do the math). She cares for Francine, who is also 23 but “received trauma” (emotional or physical, we didn’t find out) in the genocide. Another Franciose, another Francine, and Edan are in their mid-teens. Franciose was also very proud and talked about how she spent her salary to buy nice things for the house (benches, beds, bright blue paint for the doors and windows). She had many questions for us. She was so proud to be hosting Canadians in her home and wanted to know what Canadians thought of Rwanda.
Next, we went to an HIV association. Run by people with HIV for people with HIV. They provide support for one another, help people with getting access to healthcare, and also try to educate those not infected on how to stay that way. They sew and weave baskets to raise money for the members. I was privileged enough to buy a beautiful basket and chat with the woman who weaved it. They only had four baskets available, because it is hard for them to buy material (Cindy, this is where your money is going). Like everyone else we have met, they tell their stories with pride, grace, and hope.
Lastly, we drove down a crazy road for 20 minutes (Justin, you would have loved it, but I’m afraid that our Toyoto van was not built for such an adventure) and met Jean-Pierre, 20, and Emanuel, 17. They lost their whole family in the genocide. For a few years, they lived with relatives, but it was not a good situation. Three years ago, they returned to their parents’ land, but their house had been destroyed in the war. They currently live in a small mud hut (just like you see on TV) no bigger than 10’ wide. But, they have recently been selected to receive a house from World Vision. Jean-Pierre cares for his brother with the diligence and maturity of someone twice his age. He would like to go to school, but has more hope for his brother, so he instead works and looks for food all day so that Emanuel may go to school and be a mechanic as he dreams.
Well, much more happened, but that’s about all I can write as my eyelids are beginning to droop.
Tomorrow I will meet with Assumpta (Ang & Brian’s child), Jean D’Amore (Kath & Geoff), Charlotte (Danielle), and Jean-Pierre (me & Justin). I will see Aline next week.
If you made it up to this part, thanks for reading!!!
Yesterday was wrapped up at the Hotel Milles Calliones (Hotel Rwanda). Not where the movie was filmed, but where the actually events took place.
Today was absolutely amazing… unfortunately, my camera decided to stop working, so I don’t have many pictures to post. (My team is made up of a bunch of shutterbugs, so I’m not too worried. You will just have to wait until after my trip to see the pictures.)
First, we went to the World Vision Nyamata office and heard a little about the projects they are managing:
1) Sponsorship (2800 kids)
2) Education
3) Healing, Peace building, and Reconciliation (pertaining to the genocide)
4) HIV/ AIDS (they urge people who are affected to join advocacy associations)
5) Food security (Rwanda is very green right now, but they did experience a severe drought in 2003)
They have also initiated several communities support programs. Mentorship is extremely important, and orphans and vulnerable children are given a mentor who will visit them frequently and who will be there when the children have a problem. The health problems in Nyamata are ones we would never dream of experiecing. Malaria, HIV, malnutrition, and worms are the most common.
After the WV office, we visited a local school. It was started up as a partnership between WV and the parents in the community. Apparently, these kids have the best grades in the district… I saw the math they were doing in Grade 5, and we didn’t touch that stuff until Grade 11! After we asked our questions, the kids were given the chance to ask us questions. One precocious little guy stood up and said, “Before we asked you to bring computers, and you still haven’t brought any.” After the Q&A period, we started handing out candy, and the kids got downright vicious! At one point, I had a swarm of about 20 shove me up against a wall and start grabbing at my pockets and purse! It was quite comical, but a little scary as well!
Before we left, the headmaster told us about several needs. Please keep these in mind to see if you can help or know anyone who might be able/ willing to:
1) He asked that we pray for the school, the management, the parents, and the students.
2) We would like us to help initiate a correspondence program between their classes and classes back in Canada. This one should be easy guys… spread the word with any teachers you know!
3) They need computers and electricity to run them. (They need money!)
Next, we went to see Joseanne. She is a very young widow caring for her four children. Two of her girls are sponsored. A few years ago, World Vision built them a house. Small and simple by our standards, but I have never seen anyone shine with so much pride! She could not wipe the ear-to-ear grin off of her face! She told us that before she received her house, she could not care for her children and felt useless. Not, she knows she is valuable. She has quite a large yard, and is working on building a lean-to at the back in anticipation for receiving a cow. I can’t wait to post pictures of her and her children… this woman is the epitome of the word gracious.
As the crowds of children gathered outside of Joseanne’s home, we realized what true poverty is. Three and four year olds had babies strapped to their back. A couple were naked. We gave them candies and toothbrushes. Before realising that we has enough to go around, one precious little girl crushed her Werthers, and then spat it out into tiny pieces so she could share it with her friends.
After that we visited another family who received a home from World Vision. At 23 years old, Franciose has been the head of her household since the genocide (1994… you do the math). She cares for Francine, who is also 23 but “received trauma” (emotional or physical, we didn’t find out) in the genocide. Another Franciose, another Francine, and Edan are in their mid-teens. Franciose was also very proud and talked about how she spent her salary to buy nice things for the house (benches, beds, bright blue paint for the doors and windows). She had many questions for us. She was so proud to be hosting Canadians in her home and wanted to know what Canadians thought of Rwanda.
Next, we went to an HIV association. Run by people with HIV for people with HIV. They provide support for one another, help people with getting access to healthcare, and also try to educate those not infected on how to stay that way. They sew and weave baskets to raise money for the members. I was privileged enough to buy a beautiful basket and chat with the woman who weaved it. They only had four baskets available, because it is hard for them to buy material (Cindy, this is where your money is going). Like everyone else we have met, they tell their stories with pride, grace, and hope.
Lastly, we drove down a crazy road for 20 minutes (Justin, you would have loved it, but I’m afraid that our Toyoto van was not built for such an adventure) and met Jean-Pierre, 20, and Emanuel, 17. They lost their whole family in the genocide. For a few years, they lived with relatives, but it was not a good situation. Three years ago, they returned to their parents’ land, but their house had been destroyed in the war. They currently live in a small mud hut (just like you see on TV) no bigger than 10’ wide. But, they have recently been selected to receive a house from World Vision. Jean-Pierre cares for his brother with the diligence and maturity of someone twice his age. He would like to go to school, but has more hope for his brother, so he instead works and looks for food all day so that Emanuel may go to school and be a mechanic as he dreams.
Well, much more happened, but that’s about all I can write as my eyelids are beginning to droop.
Tomorrow I will meet with Assumpta (Ang & Brian’s child), Jean D’Amore (Kath & Geoff), Charlotte (Danielle), and Jean-Pierre (me & Justin). I will see Aline next week.
If you made it up to this part, thanks for reading!!!
Adventures in Amsterdam
The Internet has been down in Rwanda. Sorry for the delay… I did eventually make it out of Europe!
Well, when I wrote my last entry, I was near tears. I couldn’t believe what was happening to me! Turns out, I just got to start my vacation early! I started talking to my seatmate on the train and found out she is Rwandan! Delphine came to Holland a year ago. I definitely made a new friend (and now have a place to stay the next time I’m in Holland)!
Brussels was a bit difficult to navigate. They mostly speak English, but the trains were difficult and no one seems too eager to help. Once I crossed the border into Holland, however, I felt like I was in some sort of utopia. Everything is easy to navigate, the trains are cheap, there is help around every corner, everyone – and I mean everyone – speaks perfect English. The train from Belgium took me straight to the airport where there are huge lockers, so I was able to get rid of my luggage. 20 minutes later, I was downtown, crossing numerous canals and dodging bicycles. Seriously, if you every need to be stranded, Amsterdam is the place to do it!
I visited Rembrant’s house, which has been turned into a museum. Other than that, I just strolled around and took pictures. Not too much to tell, but it was a great experience.
The internet is painfully slow here (think late-90's), so don't expect too many pictures.
Well, when I wrote my last entry, I was near tears. I couldn’t believe what was happening to me! Turns out, I just got to start my vacation early! I started talking to my seatmate on the train and found out she is Rwandan! Delphine came to Holland a year ago. I definitely made a new friend (and now have a place to stay the next time I’m in Holland)!
Brussels was a bit difficult to navigate. They mostly speak English, but the trains were difficult and no one seems too eager to help. Once I crossed the border into Holland, however, I felt like I was in some sort of utopia. Everything is easy to navigate, the trains are cheap, there is help around every corner, everyone – and I mean everyone – speaks perfect English. The train from Belgium took me straight to the airport where there are huge lockers, so I was able to get rid of my luggage. 20 minutes later, I was downtown, crossing numerous canals and dodging bicycles. Seriously, if you every need to be stranded, Amsterdam is the place to do it!
I visited Rembrant’s house, which has been turned into a museum. Other than that, I just strolled around and took pictures. Not too much to tell, but it was a great experience.
The internet is painfully slow here (think late-90's), so don't expect too many pictures.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Amanda in Brussels/ Amsterdam
Oh boy.... what a trip so far. The flight from Vancouver to London was fine (with the exception of the token screaming baby). Got to Heathrow with plenty of time to spare. Then, five minutes before boarding, our flight to Brussels was cancelled with no explaination. Have no fear... another one leaves in 2 hours!
Great! Still time to make my connection to Ethiopia. Only that flight ended up taking off an hour and a half late. And the flight attendants refused to notify Ethiopia Airlines that I was on my way. Long story short: BMI is the most horrible airline in the world!!! I missed my plane by five minutes, and I'm in a cheap hotel in Brussels, preparing to take a train to Amsterdam tomorrow, where I will sight-see for a few hours and then continue my journey to Rwanda!
(To be fair to BMI, they did offer me a $5 gift certificate for their onboard refreshments to compensate for my troubles.)
Great! Still time to make my connection to Ethiopia. Only that flight ended up taking off an hour and a half late. And the flight attendants refused to notify Ethiopia Airlines that I was on my way. Long story short: BMI is the most horrible airline in the world!!! I missed my plane by five minutes, and I'm in a cheap hotel in Brussels, preparing to take a train to Amsterdam tomorrow, where I will sight-see for a few hours and then continue my journey to Rwanda!
(To be fair to BMI, they did offer me a $5 gift certificate for their onboard refreshments to compensate for my troubles.)
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Leaving in five days!
I can't believe that in five days I will be getting on a plane and flying halfway across the world! I just wanted to post a reminder to everyone that I will be updating this page with pictures and stories regularly while in Africa... I'm bringing my laptop with me (typical Canadian!).
Thank you all for your continued support.
Thank you all for your continued support.
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