Salaam Aleikum!
And already I'm realizing how my time here is going to fly by. My whole vacation got off to a lazy start. Staying in the house until 2 or 3 in the afternoon and then finally venturing out to see friends, old colleagues, etc. I've made a schedule for myself so I can get everything accomplished. I'm planning on heading back to the village on Sunday. I can't wait to get back there, though I will miss having the time here with my friends in Dakar.
The weekend went well. Saturday was rainy. At night, my friend Vince's little brother, Olivier, hosted a xawaree (une soiree--much like a house party, but with a Senegalese twist) in their courtyard. It was targeted for teenagers. The place was packed. My friends and I danced in the space we could find, a bit away from the young'ns. :) They tell me I haven't forgotten how to dance, que je danse bien, comme une Senegalaise. The highest compliment of all! I finally left the party around 4:30am. They don't mess around here. Most of them didn't even show up until midnight. Ha!
Sunday, I slept until noon, ate lunch and then took another nap. I told you these days are lazy! Finally, I made my way three house down to my friend Malick's house, where we spent the afternoon visiting with his mother and watching traditional wrestling. However, our neighborhood was cursed with a power outage just before the "grande lutte" -- the match everyone had been waiting for. We heard it on the radio instead and watched the reruns later on the news. Oh the government.
I can deal with power outages, but Sunday night they (the State-owned water utility, I presume) turned off the water. This is unacceptable. You can't shower, flush, drink. You have to be careful about how you use your water reserves. The water didn't come back until 11am on Monday. With no electrity you can light a candle, but with no water... there are no wells here in the city and water is expensive to buy.
Finally, Monday afternoon I set out to fix my cell phone problem. I waited for a technician for 3 hours in his boutique only for him to tell me that the problem is that my phone does not have the proper band for the new service they have here. A wasted afternoon, but such is life. The other boutique vendor and I made small talk about the US and Senegal. He, like everyone else, complains about the government. Just that morning, Wade, the president, announced he's going to try and change the constitution to extend his term from 5 years to 7 years. Yikes! Affaire bu graw -- a grave affair.
Monday after dinner, I finally saw my friends in Liberte 2-- Abdou, Djily, El Hadj, and others. For those of you that know them, they haven't changed a bit! Djily gave me a ride home on his motorcycle. Exhilarating!! He gave me a small tour of town, showing off the new roads of Dakar. We cruised along the ocean front boulevard -- La Corniche. Breathtaking.
But with the water back on, it has rained all day yesterday and today. If only the water utility and the Rain Gods could coordinate! (Although yesterday morning it was sunny, so I went on the rooftop terrace to sun a bit, but despite my use of sunscreen the powerful Senegalese sun got the best of me.) I spent the afternoon with a family in Cipres. Megan, Jayna, and I were good friends with this family. Their daughter moved to Seattle and we visited her there in January. It was great to see her family again. They are so kind. And it's good for my Wolof, because only her brother speaks French (and English too, actually), so I get good practice expressing myself and understanding what they are saying to me. Also, I met a family friend of there's. She is looking to be a nanny in the States for 3 months. Anyone or anyone you know, interested? She speaks French and wants to improve her English.
Today, I again spent the morning in the house and then went to visit my family's former maid. I was close with her when I lived here before so it was nice to see her again. She now works in a different household.
The rain has yet to cease, but I suppose they don't call it the rainy season for nothing. It's rarely a heavy rain, more a consistent light tropical rain. The power was out for 5 or 6 hours this morning and two or three times throughout the night. I know because my fan stops blowing. So hopefully we won't be cut off again today.
So my first week here is complete. The rest will pass too quickly, but I'm finally getting my act together about seeing people and doing things.
Tomorrow I have plans for Marche HLM to buy fabric and bring it to the tailor. In the afternoon, I hope to see Diarra from Macalester. That's all for now.
Jamm ak jamm. (The sheep bleating outside the cyber cafe say hello!)
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
A familiar place
My third day. I know they are going to pass quickly. I am loving being back. It is all so familiar. My friends and I continue to remark how quickly the last 13 months passed. It really feels like just yesterday that I left. Time continues to prove itself to be a funny thing.
My luggage arrived yesterday morning. It's great to have some clothing options again. I spent 3 hours doing my laundry from the first two weeks of the trip. Back to the good old method employing 2 basins of water, a bar of soap, and my own two hands. Exhausting. The maids don't think I do an adequate job, but it's good enough for me. :)
My luggage is here, but my newest obstacle is that my phone doesn't work and in an attempt to make it work, all the phone numbers were erased from my phonebook. Being the technology-dependent person that I am, I didn't write the numbers elsewhere. So I'm scrambling around with my e-mails trying to get people's phone numbers here. (All of you at home, I lost your numbers too. You should send them to me in an e-mail.)
The heat and humidity are here in full force, much like when I arrived in September 2006. I'd forgotten what it is like. My skin is always sticky. Yesterday, I took 3 showers! Common greetings, after asking how you are and responsding, "I am here only," and then asking if you are in peace, one often proceeds to ask how the heat is. "Hard/difficult" you respond.
Let me continue to paint the picture I started in my last entry. The surface of Dakar has changed since I was last here. The road consruction that was well underway when I left is now complete. The road network involves all types of round-abouts, tunnels, bridges, dividers, merges and most importantly, SIDEWALKS! Some intersections are completely different (for those of you that were here--there is now a giant bridge merging the VDN with Route de CAD). What's best though, is that there are all types of public art displays on these new roundabouts and bridges. Gives Dakar a whole new impression.
But the people here are not pleased. Great, they say, they have nice new streets, but food and utilities are more expensive than ever. The bakers are on strike because they want to charge more for bread due to increased price of wheat. Rice, boy do you hear about the increased price in rice. The average Senegalese eats rice from breakfast, lunch and dinner. The double in price has hit people hard here.
There are more blackouts than ever before. I'm talking 3-4 per day and lasting for hours at a time. Despite this, their electricity bills continue to increase. And what's worse, no one knows when the blackouts will occur. The government could at least create a schedule. Additionally, people have gone days at a time without running water in their homes.
This time I am frustrated too. Maybe I was last time, I don't know. I know that in the beginning, sickly enough, I was charmed by the blackouts. But really, two years later and the situation is worse, it's unbelievable. It is not a way to live, they say, and I completely agree.
There's nothing to do during the poweroutages, coupures as we call them here, but sit them out and wait. You light a candle and wait. The other night, I was sitting with friends in Vince's courtyard. Power went out. But we lit a candle, continued sipping on our beers, and someone played music on their phone. In this case, it's not so bad, but still... there are no excuses. It is not acceptable.
It's funny being here without other tubaabs. I am blantantly aware of my gender again. Since I don't have many girl friends here in Mermoz (my neighborhood in Dakar) it is always Hannah and the boys. The story of my life. However, it's different here than at home. You would never see a Senegalese woman sitting with men until 2 in the morning. Maybe last time I was more comfortable with it since there were other girls with me, but this time... I don't know. I'm less comfortable breaking this social norm.
But it is still good to be back with the MOZ boys. I'd forgotten what it's like to sit for hours and understand nothing around me, but my coping mechanism of getting lost in my thoughts has come right back to me. It's funny when I stop and think about it. Why do I love it so much here... sitting for hours and not understanding the conversations around me? I can't explain it.
I have a sense of belonging here. I know people wherever I venture in the neighborhood and can greet them by name. (It's embarrassing how many names I've forgotten though. And I'm shocked by how many people remember and recognize me. I guess I was the tubaab that never left. Yag naa fii.) The pace of life is slow and I appreciate that. It's funny because when I'm at home, I love being super busy. I feel in my element when I'm at school and I go from class to meeting to project to work to exercise to dinner to meeting and finally get to my homework around midnight. But that is not the case here.
Yesterday, for example, I had to go to the telecenter to call the airport about my bags. They didn't answer on my first attempt. So the boutique vendor got me a chair and offered me a Senegalese coffee. I sat in the boutique/telecenter, sipped cafe touba, made small talk with those that came in, and just sat and watched the street life and waited. I was probably there for over 30 minutes before I got a hold of the airport. This whole situation would never happen at home. But that is a kernel of what I love about the lifestyle here and what my day to day life looks like.
Okay that's all for now. I'll continue the painting in my next entry. Leegi leegi!
My luggage arrived yesterday morning. It's great to have some clothing options again. I spent 3 hours doing my laundry from the first two weeks of the trip. Back to the good old method employing 2 basins of water, a bar of soap, and my own two hands. Exhausting. The maids don't think I do an adequate job, but it's good enough for me. :)
My luggage is here, but my newest obstacle is that my phone doesn't work and in an attempt to make it work, all the phone numbers were erased from my phonebook. Being the technology-dependent person that I am, I didn't write the numbers elsewhere. So I'm scrambling around with my e-mails trying to get people's phone numbers here. (All of you at home, I lost your numbers too. You should send them to me in an e-mail.)
The heat and humidity are here in full force, much like when I arrived in September 2006. I'd forgotten what it is like. My skin is always sticky. Yesterday, I took 3 showers! Common greetings, after asking how you are and responsding, "I am here only," and then asking if you are in peace, one often proceeds to ask how the heat is. "Hard/difficult" you respond.
Let me continue to paint the picture I started in my last entry. The surface of Dakar has changed since I was last here. The road consruction that was well underway when I left is now complete. The road network involves all types of round-abouts, tunnels, bridges, dividers, merges and most importantly, SIDEWALKS! Some intersections are completely different (for those of you that were here--there is now a giant bridge merging the VDN with Route de CAD). What's best though, is that there are all types of public art displays on these new roundabouts and bridges. Gives Dakar a whole new impression.
But the people here are not pleased. Great, they say, they have nice new streets, but food and utilities are more expensive than ever. The bakers are on strike because they want to charge more for bread due to increased price of wheat. Rice, boy do you hear about the increased price in rice. The average Senegalese eats rice from breakfast, lunch and dinner. The double in price has hit people hard here.
There are more blackouts than ever before. I'm talking 3-4 per day and lasting for hours at a time. Despite this, their electricity bills continue to increase. And what's worse, no one knows when the blackouts will occur. The government could at least create a schedule. Additionally, people have gone days at a time without running water in their homes.
This time I am frustrated too. Maybe I was last time, I don't know. I know that in the beginning, sickly enough, I was charmed by the blackouts. But really, two years later and the situation is worse, it's unbelievable. It is not a way to live, they say, and I completely agree.
There's nothing to do during the poweroutages, coupures as we call them here, but sit them out and wait. You light a candle and wait. The other night, I was sitting with friends in Vince's courtyard. Power went out. But we lit a candle, continued sipping on our beers, and someone played music on their phone. In this case, it's not so bad, but still... there are no excuses. It is not acceptable.
It's funny being here without other tubaabs. I am blantantly aware of my gender again. Since I don't have many girl friends here in Mermoz (my neighborhood in Dakar) it is always Hannah and the boys. The story of my life. However, it's different here than at home. You would never see a Senegalese woman sitting with men until 2 in the morning. Maybe last time I was more comfortable with it since there were other girls with me, but this time... I don't know. I'm less comfortable breaking this social norm.
But it is still good to be back with the MOZ boys. I'd forgotten what it's like to sit for hours and understand nothing around me, but my coping mechanism of getting lost in my thoughts has come right back to me. It's funny when I stop and think about it. Why do I love it so much here... sitting for hours and not understanding the conversations around me? I can't explain it.
I have a sense of belonging here. I know people wherever I venture in the neighborhood and can greet them by name. (It's embarrassing how many names I've forgotten though. And I'm shocked by how many people remember and recognize me. I guess I was the tubaab that never left. Yag naa fii.) The pace of life is slow and I appreciate that. It's funny because when I'm at home, I love being super busy. I feel in my element when I'm at school and I go from class to meeting to project to work to exercise to dinner to meeting and finally get to my homework around midnight. But that is not the case here.
Yesterday, for example, I had to go to the telecenter to call the airport about my bags. They didn't answer on my first attempt. So the boutique vendor got me a chair and offered me a Senegalese coffee. I sat in the boutique/telecenter, sipped cafe touba, made small talk with those that came in, and just sat and watched the street life and waited. I was probably there for over 30 minutes before I got a hold of the airport. This whole situation would never happen at home. But that is a kernel of what I love about the lifestyle here and what my day to day life looks like.
Okay that's all for now. I'll continue the painting in my next entry. Leegi leegi!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Home Sweet Home
Salaam Aleikum!!
Na ngeen def? Yeen angi ci jamm? And so the greetings go here in Senegal. I am finally here.
It's funny, when I got back to Mac for my senior year it felt as though my year in Senegal had never happened. But now that I'm here, it feels like I was never gone.
I got in late last night (3am) after over 24 hours of travel! Ugh. Sadly, my bags didn't seem to make it on the flight. God knows where they are. Uganda? Johannesburg? Atlanta (if they never made it off my plane)? Hopefully they'll come soon as I only have the clothes with me that I wore.
I'm so happy to be back in Senegal. The sounds, sights, smells are all so familiar. The busy streets with the colorful car rapides, people chattering in Wolof, my family and friends, the smell of charcoal fires and the cooking food, the loud airplanes passing overhead, the sensation of perpetual sweating (so hot here!), the smell of their soap, of the house, of everything. So many memories come rushing back to me that I have associated with all these senses of mine. How I missed this place!
I spent the morning at the house. There was a power outage so no chance of e-mail. I washed my clothes and wore an oversized Senegalese outfit my mother loaned me. I read, and sat, and thought, and played with my two new nephews. They are certainly a new sound in the house. 1 yr and 10 months old! They are quite the duo. Never ending energy!!
After lunch, my clothes had already dried on the line. I set out to run errands and stopped to chat and visit with old friends and their families along the way. I love the culture. I can just stop and sit with people and catch up on the past year. It's so great to reconnect.
Anyway, that's all for now. Keep your fingers crossed that my bags will arrive tonight.
Jamm ak Jamm.
Na ngeen def? Yeen angi ci jamm? And so the greetings go here in Senegal. I am finally here.
It's funny, when I got back to Mac for my senior year it felt as though my year in Senegal had never happened. But now that I'm here, it feels like I was never gone.
I got in late last night (3am) after over 24 hours of travel! Ugh. Sadly, my bags didn't seem to make it on the flight. God knows where they are. Uganda? Johannesburg? Atlanta (if they never made it off my plane)? Hopefully they'll come soon as I only have the clothes with me that I wore.
I'm so happy to be back in Senegal. The sounds, sights, smells are all so familiar. The busy streets with the colorful car rapides, people chattering in Wolof, my family and friends, the smell of charcoal fires and the cooking food, the loud airplanes passing overhead, the sensation of perpetual sweating (so hot here!), the smell of their soap, of the house, of everything. So many memories come rushing back to me that I have associated with all these senses of mine. How I missed this place!
I spent the morning at the house. There was a power outage so no chance of e-mail. I washed my clothes and wore an oversized Senegalese outfit my mother loaned me. I read, and sat, and thought, and played with my two new nephews. They are certainly a new sound in the house. 1 yr and 10 months old! They are quite the duo. Never ending energy!!
After lunch, my clothes had already dried on the line. I set out to run errands and stopped to chat and visit with old friends and their families along the way. I love the culture. I can just stop and sit with people and catch up on the past year. It's so great to reconnect.
Anyway, that's all for now. Keep your fingers crossed that my bags will arrive tonight.
Jamm ak Jamm.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Next Stop: Senegal
There is a song in Wolof about being in a fishing boat and going early the next morning to Senegal. It goes Gaal gann girr_a bii (x2). Eleg suba tel dinaa dem Senegal. (I'll sing it for you some day if you're lucky.)
I've waited 13 months to sing this song and mean it. Early tomorrow morning I will catch my flight that will eventually take me to Dakar.
It is incredible to think I'm really going back. I am excited, nervous, anxious, curious... about how this will go. I'll be there for a month, just visiting and hanging out. I don't know how I will be received. I don't know what I'll do all day to bide my time. I also fear I haven't brought adequate gifts. But I figure things will work out. It will be wonderful to be back with my family and friends over there and back in the culture I grew to love so much.
The rest of the JRC folks flew home tonight. I'm staying at my friend Johan's house in Kampala. Thank God for Macalester. I now have a contact in many cities around the world. After 28 hours of travel (including an 8-hour layover in Johannesburg), I'll finally arrive in Dakar.
I can hardly wait.
These past two weeks have been wonderful and incredibly eye-opening. It was great to discover a different region of Africa and to travel with such inspiring people. I learned a lot about grassroots community development. We faced many harsh realities, but what stuck out most to me is the beauty and resilience of humanity. I hope you have enjoyed my posts so far. Now my journey continues in a different fashion.
Until Dakar, inshAllah,
Hannah
(P.S. Keep reading as I made two other posts tonight finishing the rest of our time in Uganda.)
I've waited 13 months to sing this song and mean it. Early tomorrow morning I will catch my flight that will eventually take me to Dakar.
It is incredible to think I'm really going back. I am excited, nervous, anxious, curious... about how this will go. I'll be there for a month, just visiting and hanging out. I don't know how I will be received. I don't know what I'll do all day to bide my time. I also fear I haven't brought adequate gifts. But I figure things will work out. It will be wonderful to be back with my family and friends over there and back in the culture I grew to love so much.
The rest of the JRC folks flew home tonight. I'm staying at my friend Johan's house in Kampala. Thank God for Macalester. I now have a contact in many cities around the world. After 28 hours of travel (including an 8-hour layover in Johannesburg), I'll finally arrive in Dakar.
I can hardly wait.
These past two weeks have been wonderful and incredibly eye-opening. It was great to discover a different region of Africa and to travel with such inspiring people. I learned a lot about grassroots community development. We faced many harsh realities, but what stuck out most to me is the beauty and resilience of humanity. I hope you have enjoyed my posts so far. Now my journey continues in a different fashion.
Until Dakar, inshAllah,
Hannah
(P.S. Keep reading as I made two other posts tonight finishing the rest of our time in Uganda.)
Grassroots Development at its Finest
I intend for this to be a short entry since I'm exhausted, but I wanted to share one of the most inspiring projects I've seen on this trip.
On Thursday we visited FDNC (Foundation for Development of Needy Communities). To quote their mission from a brochure I received: FDNC is a non-governmental organization (NGO) committed to building self-reliance and sustainable development in the most impoverished communities of Eastern Uganda through strategies that promote community participation and individual empowerment. Working in five major programming areas, including education and training, human rights, community-based health and development, music and dance, and institution building, the organization serves many vulnerable populations in the region.
In the morning we toured the vocational school. Students from around the region come to this school to get trained in skills like tailoring, hair dressing, computer skills, cement and brick-making. You get the picture. They do have to pay a fee. (If you want to sponsor a student go to: http://hugsuganda.org/.) Anyway, students receive tangible skills so they can have a trade a find work.
In the afternoon, we visited one of FDNC's partner villages. We were warmly greeted by the villagers with traditional songs and dances. We were the largest group of Muzungus (Swahili for Whites) they'd ever received. But we got to visit the projects FDNC has helped implement in the village. They have invested in a ram and goat. When kids are born, the females are distributed throughout the community. So far, 62 goats have been given away. The males are sold at the market. Only 34 families remain to receive a goat. We consider the ram to be the busiest goat in the country. :) But not only does this generate income from the sales, but the families can get milk from the goat to consume and sell. Additionally, the female goats can continue producing new goats for income or consumption. So it's the project that keeps giving. They have a similar operation with pigs.
We also got to see a rice field. They were given 10 kilos of seeds, which they had to replace from their first harvest. Now they are on their 2nd harvest. They are hoping to produce enough to sustain the community.
Finally, we saw a play the health workers put on to illustrate the importance of washing your hands after going to the bathroom and before eating meals. It was very interesting. They treated us to a feast at the end of our visit. The food was delicious! I also got to see an installed efficient stove. These things are amazing at reducing fuel consumption and piping the smoke out of the cooking area so the women are not exposed to it.
When we got back to the FDNC center, their band performed for us. (If you have old instruments you want to get rid of, talk to me. They are always looking for donations.) They were really good. They learned all the songs by listening, not by reading music. There was also a traditional dance troop that performed dances from Western, Eastern, and Central Uganda. It was a great show and a great way to wrap up the day.
Okay, that's all for now. I really encourage you to check out FDNC's website at the top of this page. It is an amazing organization doing incredible work. However, they are desperately in need of more resources to continue their work and expand their reach. What's best is that it was started by a Ugandan in an attempt to address his community's needs. Grassroots development.
On Thursday we visited FDNC (Foundation for Development of Needy Communities). To quote their mission from a brochure I received: FDNC is a non-governmental organization (NGO) committed to building self-reliance and sustainable development in the most impoverished communities of Eastern Uganda through strategies that promote community participation and individual empowerment. Working in five major programming areas, including education and training, human rights, community-based health and development, music and dance, and institution building, the organization serves many vulnerable populations in the region.
In the morning we toured the vocational school. Students from around the region come to this school to get trained in skills like tailoring, hair dressing, computer skills, cement and brick-making. You get the picture. They do have to pay a fee. (If you want to sponsor a student go to: http://hugsuganda.org/.) Anyway, students receive tangible skills so they can have a trade a find work.
In the afternoon, we visited one of FDNC's partner villages. We were warmly greeted by the villagers with traditional songs and dances. We were the largest group of Muzungus (Swahili for Whites) they'd ever received. But we got to visit the projects FDNC has helped implement in the village. They have invested in a ram and goat. When kids are born, the females are distributed throughout the community. So far, 62 goats have been given away. The males are sold at the market. Only 34 families remain to receive a goat. We consider the ram to be the busiest goat in the country. :) But not only does this generate income from the sales, but the families can get milk from the goat to consume and sell. Additionally, the female goats can continue producing new goats for income or consumption. So it's the project that keeps giving. They have a similar operation with pigs.
We also got to see a rice field. They were given 10 kilos of seeds, which they had to replace from their first harvest. Now they are on their 2nd harvest. They are hoping to produce enough to sustain the community.
Finally, we saw a play the health workers put on to illustrate the importance of washing your hands after going to the bathroom and before eating meals. It was very interesting. They treated us to a feast at the end of our visit. The food was delicious! I also got to see an installed efficient stove. These things are amazing at reducing fuel consumption and piping the smoke out of the cooking area so the women are not exposed to it.
When we got back to the FDNC center, their band performed for us. (If you have old instruments you want to get rid of, talk to me. They are always looking for donations.) They were really good. They learned all the songs by listening, not by reading music. There was also a traditional dance troop that performed dances from Western, Eastern, and Central Uganda. It was a great show and a great way to wrap up the day.
Okay, that's all for now. I really encourage you to check out FDNC's website at the top of this page. It is an amazing organization doing incredible work. However, they are desperately in need of more resources to continue their work and expand their reach. What's best is that it was started by a Ugandan in an attempt to address his community's needs. Grassroots development.
A Holy Hat Trick
This past weekend we hit all three major Judea-Christian religions. Since Peace Kawomera, the fair trade coffee co-op we visited, is a multifaith group, we decided to participate in all three religions' prayer sessions.
We got things going on Friday when we participated in the 2 o'clock prayers at the Mosque. Men and women were separated. We sat in the back of the mosque, separated from the men by a sheet. We all donned our hijabs (head coverings) and entered the mosque. I don't think Islam is for me due to the sheer discomfort I experienced sitting on the hard floor and well overheated from making sure my entire body was covered with clothing. We, of course, understood nothing that occurred as it was conducted in Luganda and Lugisu as well as Arabic for the prayers. But the women encouraged us to go through the movements with them. I've never done that before, so that was interesting.
There were many memorable quotes and moments from this experience. For instance, one baby started screaming at the top of its lungs when Elaine looked and smiled at it. This was rather disruptive of the prayers/sermon going on in the men's section. When the prayers and speeches were finally over and we were able to leave the mosque, the women all began talking to us in full-out Lugisu and we couldn't understand a word of it. The antidote to this was the child that came up to us and yelled loudly in our faces, 'Howayou?' (How are you?) He would shriek and run away when you responded. Despite my physical discomfort, it was nice to share this holy day with the Muslim community, especially since I never made it into a mosque during my time in Senegal.
On Saturday, we joined the Abayudaya (literally, the Sons of Judah, a Jewish community) for morning services. This was an extraordinary experience. It was incredible to watch them don their talit and beautiful woven kippot. Judaism was a major missing element for me while I was in Senegal, but here I was with Africans saying familiar prayers. I love that prayers are universal. Sometimes the melodies differed or they sang prayers and psalms in Lugisu, but certainly ones like the Shemah and Aleinu were to the same tune I grew up singing. It is incredible to share these prayers with Jews across the world, even in remote Uganda.
It was a long service. Their rabbi was actually just ordained in the US at the conservative rabbinical college. They chanted 8 aliyahs from the parsha compared to the standard 5. What was particularly meaningful for me was that the Torah portion was the very same portion from which I chanted for my Bat Mitzvah. So I heard the very same verses I chanted 9 years ago repeated in Uganda. I never would've thunk it!
The parsha was Pinchas in Numbers. At the end of the portion, is the story of the daughters of Tzelophechad (sp). Briefly, these daughters did not receive their father's land when he died and instead it was passed on to distant male relatives. They didn't think this was fair, so they took the issue to Moses, who took the issue to God, who decided that yes, the women were correct, they ought to receive their father's land. It was a major victory for women in the Old Testament.
The Rabbi did his D'var Tarah on this story. He told the women in the synagogue that they could and should stand up for themselves if they thought something was unfair. He also told the men that they needed to listen and do their part to treat women fairly. He cited the example of his grandfather who called for an end to the custom by which women were not allowed to eat chicken because it was a delicacy. Now everyone eats it. It was an example that change is possible. They served chicken for lunch. :)
It was inspiring to sit there and listen to the rabbi's message in a society that is typically oppressive to women. How empowering! I hope the girls heard him loud and clear, though sadly it did not look as though any of them were paying attention. Oh well. Change begins slowly, I suppose.
To complete the hat trick, we went to church on Sunday. Here I did not understand a single thing because the service was conducted in Lugisu. I busied myself reading a bit of the Bible and studying the map on the inside cover. The service began with a hymn sung to the tune of 'Oh my darling.' It lasted for 2 hours and was followed by an hour of speeches. The Ugandans certainly do love their speeches. Even Brant was asked to go up and give a mini-sermon.
All of the houses of prayer were quite modest. However, the Abayudaya are experiencing an interesting phenomenon. Western Jewish organizations are pouring resources into this community and fighting to 'claim' the Abayudaya. This makes me furious. It is way too reminiscent of colonialism. In addition, it is causing tensions with neighboring villages that have not received the same financial support. It's hard to know where to draw the line with financial support. Because on the other hand, it's incredible that their rabbi was able to attend Rabbinical school in the States.
It was truly exceptional to share Shabbat with the Abayudaya. And I appreciate the gesture our group made by visiting with all three religious groups.
I'd like to end with a beautiful metaphor J.J., a Jewish co-founder of Peace Kawomera, made. As he toured us through his gardens he told us coffee was the perfect metaphor for peace. He explained that it grows best when surrounded by other plants. Together all the plants coexist. Their coffee co-op teaches the rest of the world an important lesson about coexistence, collaboration, and cooperation.
We got things going on Friday when we participated in the 2 o'clock prayers at the Mosque. Men and women were separated. We sat in the back of the mosque, separated from the men by a sheet. We all donned our hijabs (head coverings) and entered the mosque. I don't think Islam is for me due to the sheer discomfort I experienced sitting on the hard floor and well overheated from making sure my entire body was covered with clothing. We, of course, understood nothing that occurred as it was conducted in Luganda and Lugisu as well as Arabic for the prayers. But the women encouraged us to go through the movements with them. I've never done that before, so that was interesting.
There were many memorable quotes and moments from this experience. For instance, one baby started screaming at the top of its lungs when Elaine looked and smiled at it. This was rather disruptive of the prayers/sermon going on in the men's section. When the prayers and speeches were finally over and we were able to leave the mosque, the women all began talking to us in full-out Lugisu and we couldn't understand a word of it. The antidote to this was the child that came up to us and yelled loudly in our faces, 'Howayou?' (How are you?) He would shriek and run away when you responded. Despite my physical discomfort, it was nice to share this holy day with the Muslim community, especially since I never made it into a mosque during my time in Senegal.
On Saturday, we joined the Abayudaya (literally, the Sons of Judah, a Jewish community) for morning services. This was an extraordinary experience. It was incredible to watch them don their talit and beautiful woven kippot. Judaism was a major missing element for me while I was in Senegal, but here I was with Africans saying familiar prayers. I love that prayers are universal. Sometimes the melodies differed or they sang prayers and psalms in Lugisu, but certainly ones like the Shemah and Aleinu were to the same tune I grew up singing. It is incredible to share these prayers with Jews across the world, even in remote Uganda.
It was a long service. Their rabbi was actually just ordained in the US at the conservative rabbinical college. They chanted 8 aliyahs from the parsha compared to the standard 5. What was particularly meaningful for me was that the Torah portion was the very same portion from which I chanted for my Bat Mitzvah. So I heard the very same verses I chanted 9 years ago repeated in Uganda. I never would've thunk it!
The parsha was Pinchas in Numbers. At the end of the portion, is the story of the daughters of Tzelophechad (sp). Briefly, these daughters did not receive their father's land when he died and instead it was passed on to distant male relatives. They didn't think this was fair, so they took the issue to Moses, who took the issue to God, who decided that yes, the women were correct, they ought to receive their father's land. It was a major victory for women in the Old Testament.
The Rabbi did his D'var Tarah on this story. He told the women in the synagogue that they could and should stand up for themselves if they thought something was unfair. He also told the men that they needed to listen and do their part to treat women fairly. He cited the example of his grandfather who called for an end to the custom by which women were not allowed to eat chicken because it was a delicacy. Now everyone eats it. It was an example that change is possible. They served chicken for lunch. :)
It was inspiring to sit there and listen to the rabbi's message in a society that is typically oppressive to women. How empowering! I hope the girls heard him loud and clear, though sadly it did not look as though any of them were paying attention. Oh well. Change begins slowly, I suppose.
To complete the hat trick, we went to church on Sunday. Here I did not understand a single thing because the service was conducted in Lugisu. I busied myself reading a bit of the Bible and studying the map on the inside cover. The service began with a hymn sung to the tune of 'Oh my darling.' It lasted for 2 hours and was followed by an hour of speeches. The Ugandans certainly do love their speeches. Even Brant was asked to go up and give a mini-sermon.
All of the houses of prayer were quite modest. However, the Abayudaya are experiencing an interesting phenomenon. Western Jewish organizations are pouring resources into this community and fighting to 'claim' the Abayudaya. This makes me furious. It is way too reminiscent of colonialism. In addition, it is causing tensions with neighboring villages that have not received the same financial support. It's hard to know where to draw the line with financial support. Because on the other hand, it's incredible that their rabbi was able to attend Rabbinical school in the States.
It was truly exceptional to share Shabbat with the Abayudaya. And I appreciate the gesture our group made by visiting with all three religious groups.
I'd like to end with a beautiful metaphor J.J., a Jewish co-founder of Peace Kawomera, made. As he toured us through his gardens he told us coffee was the perfect metaphor for peace. He explained that it grows best when surrounded by other plants. Together all the plants coexist. Their coffee co-op teaches the rest of the world an important lesson about coexistence, collaboration, and cooperation.
Monday, July 21, 2008
The Story of Coffee
There are so many stories to tell from our time in Uganda, but one of them is the story of coffee.
We have spent the past several days with Peace Kawomera, a fair trade coffee co-op in the Mbale region. Their coffee is distributed through Thanksgiving Coffee. You should all buy it!! Go to www.mirembekawomera.com to read more and order your fair trade coffee today.
In any event, we've learned the entire process through which the original berries pass before they arrive in your coffee cup on an early morning. (I hope to add pictures to this so you can see the process too.)
The the berries grow on short trees. They ripen at different times so the harvest lasts five months. This makes coffee cultivation very labor intensive. You pick the berries. We spent an hour yesterday doing this. Then they must be pulped to remove the fruit and get to the seed inside. The co-op has just invested in fuel-operated pulper, which can handle 15000 kilos/day. This is much more efficient than the hand-pulpers farmers had to use previously. The fruit shell is then composted and returned to the farmer for fertilizer.
After being pulped, the seeds are fermented and washed to remove the slimy layer. Then they are dried in the sun for several days. At this point, the parchment layer of the bean must be removed. (This layer is much like the outer layer of a soybean. That's how I think of it.) They outsource this job to a local mill. The process is called milling, shockingly enough. A giant machine peels off the fine layer around the bean and then sorts the beans according to their grade (the size).
These beans are transfered to a conveyor belt where women stand on both sides and pick out the defected beans. These are sold and roasted locally or put into instant coffees. Yay for NesCafe!!
Finally the beans are ready for roasting. They are shipped to Thanksgiving Coffee in California to be roasted, packaged and distributed. Only step left is to grind the beans and run them through the coffee maker. And voila, you have a delicious cup of fair trade coffee.
I found this process to be much more complicated than I would have previously thought. But it's good to know the story behind such a widely consumed product.
Though the roasting is done in California, they have a small-scale roaster at their warehouse where they sample the beans and coffee to make sure the product is good. We got to do a tasting of 4 different coffees; they varied from light to dark roasts. It was good. I preferred the second darkest and the lightest, in case you were wondering.
In any event, it's been great to learn about the fair trade process. Peace Kawomera sells organic and inorganic beans, but they are trying to encourage more of their farmers to go organic. The co-op buys beans from 705 farmers. On the regular market, a kilo sells for 800 Ugandan schillings ($.50), but with fair trade they are purchased at 32000 schillings ($2). So you can see that this makes a HUGE difference in a local, small-scale farmer's life.
After the initial purchase of beans, the co-op continues to generate income for the farmers. If the co-op makes a profit when it sells its beans to Thanksgiving Coffee, they return this money to the farmers. (Well actually, they sell to a regional co-op that buys from 10 other co-ops in the areas, before the beans are finally sold to Thanksgiving.) The organic farmers get a higher return than do the inorganic farmers. This is an incentive for them to change to organic. Additionally, Thanksgiving Coffee gives back a dollar for every pound they sell. The co-op also saves some of its money to reinvest in the community. For example, tomorrow we are going to visit a school they've in which they've invested. They also save some for their own business. For example they are building a new office complex and store room. They also plan on developing a seedling nursery to help the farmers increase their production.
So, please please buy fair trade coffee and especially Peace Kawomera coffee. Elias, one of the co-op board members showed us the house he was able to build for his family with the increased revenue from fair trade. He said before they were all living in a small hut. I've seen first hand the huge impact the fair trade coffee market has on small-scale farmers. It's really remarkable.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story!
We have spent the past several days with Peace Kawomera, a fair trade coffee co-op in the Mbale region. Their coffee is distributed through Thanksgiving Coffee. You should all buy it!! Go to www.mirembekawomera.com to read more and order your fair trade coffee today.
In any event, we've learned the entire process through which the original berries pass before they arrive in your coffee cup on an early morning. (I hope to add pictures to this so you can see the process too.)
The the berries grow on short trees. They ripen at different times so the harvest lasts five months. This makes coffee cultivation very labor intensive. You pick the berries. We spent an hour yesterday doing this. Then they must be pulped to remove the fruit and get to the seed inside. The co-op has just invested in fuel-operated pulper, which can handle 15000 kilos/day. This is much more efficient than the hand-pulpers farmers had to use previously. The fruit shell is then composted and returned to the farmer for fertilizer.
After being pulped, the seeds are fermented and washed to remove the slimy layer. Then they are dried in the sun for several days. At this point, the parchment layer of the bean must be removed. (This layer is much like the outer layer of a soybean. That's how I think of it.) They outsource this job to a local mill. The process is called milling, shockingly enough. A giant machine peels off the fine layer around the bean and then sorts the beans according to their grade (the size).
These beans are transfered to a conveyor belt where women stand on both sides and pick out the defected beans. These are sold and roasted locally or put into instant coffees. Yay for NesCafe!!
Finally the beans are ready for roasting. They are shipped to Thanksgiving Coffee in California to be roasted, packaged and distributed. Only step left is to grind the beans and run them through the coffee maker. And voila, you have a delicious cup of fair trade coffee.
I found this process to be much more complicated than I would have previously thought. But it's good to know the story behind such a widely consumed product.
Though the roasting is done in California, they have a small-scale roaster at their warehouse where they sample the beans and coffee to make sure the product is good. We got to do a tasting of 4 different coffees; they varied from light to dark roasts. It was good. I preferred the second darkest and the lightest, in case you were wondering.
In any event, it's been great to learn about the fair trade process. Peace Kawomera sells organic and inorganic beans, but they are trying to encourage more of their farmers to go organic. The co-op buys beans from 705 farmers. On the regular market, a kilo sells for 800 Ugandan schillings ($.50), but with fair trade they are purchased at 32000 schillings ($2). So you can see that this makes a HUGE difference in a local, small-scale farmer's life.
After the initial purchase of beans, the co-op continues to generate income for the farmers. If the co-op makes a profit when it sells its beans to Thanksgiving Coffee, they return this money to the farmers. (Well actually, they sell to a regional co-op that buys from 10 other co-ops in the areas, before the beans are finally sold to Thanksgiving.) The organic farmers get a higher return than do the inorganic farmers. This is an incentive for them to change to organic. Additionally, Thanksgiving Coffee gives back a dollar for every pound they sell. The co-op also saves some of its money to reinvest in the community. For example, tomorrow we are going to visit a school they've in which they've invested. They also save some for their own business. For example they are building a new office complex and store room. They also plan on developing a seedling nursery to help the farmers increase their production.
So, please please buy fair trade coffee and especially Peace Kawomera coffee. Elias, one of the co-op board members showed us the house he was able to build for his family with the increased revenue from fair trade. He said before they were all living in a small hut. I've seen first hand the huge impact the fair trade coffee market has on small-scale farmers. It's really remarkable.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story!
Friday, July 18, 2008
My first taste of Uganda
We arrived in Uganda late Tuesday night. It was weird. I immediately felt an affinity to this country, more so than I did in Rwanda. The drive from the airport showed a vibrant street life, even at 10:30pm. The layout and stores and city life reminded me much more of Senegal. Perhaps that is why I immediately identified more with this country. Or perhaps it is because I don't feel the discomfort I felt in Rwanda over the fresh wounds that remained from their genocide. Or perhaps it's because I can suddenly communicate with many more people as most people speak English. It's hard to know, but I've just felt more at ease here.
Daylight has revealed another beautiful country. Though it is a bit flatter than Rwanda, especially the eastern region where we are staying, there are still beautiful hills and, I would even venture to say, mountains. The land is lush, again with vegetation and cultivated fields.
We stayed in Kampala Tuesday night. This afforded me the opportunity to see my friend Johan whom I know from Macalester. It was great to see him as I haven't seen him in over 2 years when he was my resident and I was his RA. He met me at the hotel and took me out for a delicious breakfast. We rode boda-bodas (moto taxis) to the cafe. It was an exhilarating start to the day. Driving here is crazy! Good thing the one helmet was safely lodged between my driver's legs and the handle bars. After breakfast, we walked around downtown and enjoyed a refreshing mango juice box. It was good to catch up with him and get a personal tour of the main drag of Kampala.
Once rejoined with the group, we went to the Uganda Crafts Cooperative. It is a fair trade art co-op for (mostly) disabled and widowed women. The work was beautiful. I bought many souvenirs and gifts.
Then we loaded into our buses and drove to Mbale. We crossed the Nile River and that was exciting. The drive through the country side was, well bumpy, but also gorgeous. Words cannot do the scenes justice.
It turns out the computer lab at our posh hotel closes at 11:30 so I must finish this now. We are staying at a hotel much nicer than places I stay in the US. I struggle with this at times, but I'm counting my blessings and enjoying the luxuries while I've got them. Keep reading the two other posts I made today. Hopefully soon I will be able to describe our time at FDNC and at the coffee co-op.
We are going to services tomorrow with the Abayudaya. I'm so excited! Shabbat Shalom.
Daylight has revealed another beautiful country. Though it is a bit flatter than Rwanda, especially the eastern region where we are staying, there are still beautiful hills and, I would even venture to say, mountains. The land is lush, again with vegetation and cultivated fields.
We stayed in Kampala Tuesday night. This afforded me the opportunity to see my friend Johan whom I know from Macalester. It was great to see him as I haven't seen him in over 2 years when he was my resident and I was his RA. He met me at the hotel and took me out for a delicious breakfast. We rode boda-bodas (moto taxis) to the cafe. It was an exhilarating start to the day. Driving here is crazy! Good thing the one helmet was safely lodged between my driver's legs and the handle bars. After breakfast, we walked around downtown and enjoyed a refreshing mango juice box. It was good to catch up with him and get a personal tour of the main drag of Kampala.
Once rejoined with the group, we went to the Uganda Crafts Cooperative. It is a fair trade art co-op for (mostly) disabled and widowed women. The work was beautiful. I bought many souvenirs and gifts.
Then we loaded into our buses and drove to Mbale. We crossed the Nile River and that was exciting. The drive through the country side was, well bumpy, but also gorgeous. Words cannot do the scenes justice.
It turns out the computer lab at our posh hotel closes at 11:30 so I must finish this now. We are staying at a hotel much nicer than places I stay in the US. I struggle with this at times, but I'm counting my blessings and enjoying the luxuries while I've got them. Keep reading the two other posts I made today. Hopefully soon I will be able to describe our time at FDNC and at the coffee co-op.
We are going to services tomorrow with the Abayudaya. I'm so excited! Shabbat Shalom.
A Tribute to Dr. Mardge
I wanted to take some time and space to publicly acknowledge the impact Dr. Mardge Cohen and her colleagues have had on those, especially women and children, affected with HIV/AIDS in Rwanda.
On Sunday, we went to the children's support group run by a man named Bertin. Every week, these children get together. If I recall correctly, they began with 35 children and now they have over 250. My heart broke, for probably the 100th time on this trip, when I realized that almost every single one of these children was infected with HIV. But here they were, playing, having fun. It was so sad and so happy. They are so young and innocent, and yet they have to cope with this lifelong condition. Once again, life is not fair.
This is humbling to say, but I am deeply grateful for the time I spent with WE-ACTx because it helped me get over personal stigmatizations or fears I had about those infected with HIV. I saw those living with the disease functioning like myself. This is something I've always known to be true, but I am glad I saw and experienced it firsthand. I am impressed by the power of ARVs and the hope and resilience of human beings.
Every experience we had with WE-ACTx seemed to underline the positive impact this organization has had in peoples' lives. What is most amazing is that this organization came about because Rwandan women called for help to gain access to the ARVs that their rapists were receiving in jail. Mardge heard about this from an investigative journalist. Together they went to learn about the situation and one year later in 2004, Mardge and a few others opened a clinic staffed by 5 people. From there it has grown considerably. Now it employs 80 people and reaches hundreds more. I love the program's model.
I am so intrigued by her story. I began to ask her questions while we were at this children's gathering. I learned that she comes to Rwanda for three three-week periods throughout the year. I am glad to know that it is possible to maintain my life in the States and yet have this connection with this place so far away and still make an impact. However, I just don't know how I will make that difference, make that change. I would be happy if I go on to do half the good that Marge does.
When I asked if she ever imagined that her life would take her here, she told me no. She asked me what I was going to do and I, unexpectedly, began to cry. We stepped away from the group and I was able to express to her, finally, how much I admired her and the work she did. It is truly amazing to see the impact she has had.
I want to be Dr. Mardge when I grow up.
So I just wanted to publicly convey my admiration and appreciation for the work she does. Thank you, Dr. Mardge, for setting such a good example for the rest of us and serving as such an inspiration. Aies courage, as we say in French. Have Strength, have courage.
On Sunday, we went to the children's support group run by a man named Bertin. Every week, these children get together. If I recall correctly, they began with 35 children and now they have over 250. My heart broke, for probably the 100th time on this trip, when I realized that almost every single one of these children was infected with HIV. But here they were, playing, having fun. It was so sad and so happy. They are so young and innocent, and yet they have to cope with this lifelong condition. Once again, life is not fair.
This is humbling to say, but I am deeply grateful for the time I spent with WE-ACTx because it helped me get over personal stigmatizations or fears I had about those infected with HIV. I saw those living with the disease functioning like myself. This is something I've always known to be true, but I am glad I saw and experienced it firsthand. I am impressed by the power of ARVs and the hope and resilience of human beings.
Every experience we had with WE-ACTx seemed to underline the positive impact this organization has had in peoples' lives. What is most amazing is that this organization came about because Rwandan women called for help to gain access to the ARVs that their rapists were receiving in jail. Mardge heard about this from an investigative journalist. Together they went to learn about the situation and one year later in 2004, Mardge and a few others opened a clinic staffed by 5 people. From there it has grown considerably. Now it employs 80 people and reaches hundreds more. I love the program's model.
I am so intrigued by her story. I began to ask her questions while we were at this children's gathering. I learned that she comes to Rwanda for three three-week periods throughout the year. I am glad to know that it is possible to maintain my life in the States and yet have this connection with this place so far away and still make an impact. However, I just don't know how I will make that difference, make that change. I would be happy if I go on to do half the good that Marge does.
When I asked if she ever imagined that her life would take her here, she told me no. She asked me what I was going to do and I, unexpectedly, began to cry. We stepped away from the group and I was able to express to her, finally, how much I admired her and the work she did. It is truly amazing to see the impact she has had.
I want to be Dr. Mardge when I grow up.
So I just wanted to publicly convey my admiration and appreciation for the work she does. Thank you, Dr. Mardge, for setting such a good example for the rest of us and serving as such an inspiration. Aies courage, as we say in French. Have Strength, have courage.
Memorials, Villages, and Children in Rwanda
We are currently in Uganda, but I want to make sure I give our final visits to people, sites, projects, and places in Rwanda some justice, though these short summary paragraphs will never do true justice to those experiences.
We visited the genocide memorial at the church at Nyamata. People sought refuge at this church, but their religious leaders gave them into the Hutu Power. Over 10,000 people were maliciously killed at this site. In 1999, their bodies and remains were finally given a proper burial. People from the surrounding area have also been buried there and continue to be buried as they continue to find remains. The clothes from the bodies of all the people buried there have been piled on top of the benches in the church. It is breathtaking--the sheer number of clothes that line the rows where people should be sitting and praying instead of having been killed. In back, they have mass graves. There are over 40,000 peoples' remains buried there. 40,000 people. Stairs lead you down into the dank, dark resting places of these innocent people. It is something to behold the bare skulls and bones that fill shelf after shelf. Other remains are piled into caskets and stored in that manner.
There are striking stories of the brutal deaths people experience there; I think I will spare you of that, but I will share just this one. We said Kaddish in front of the wall where we learned, retrospectively, babies were killed when their legs were held and their bodies were swung and so their heads smashed against the wall. What more can I say.
Though I will say one more thing on that. The ride through the countryside to the memorial is breathtakingly beautiful. Rolling hills covered in lush vegetation and cultivation. It is so hard to imagine that such horrors could have taken place in such a peaceful, gorgeous place. But it is inspiring to see that life has returned to this region. We've learned that former members of the Hutu militia groups are being re-accepted back into their communities. It's hard for me to imagine what that process is like, but I am heartened to know that it is possible.
On Saturday, we visited CHABHA (Children Affected By HIV & AIDS). The kids were adorable. They sang and danced for us and then pulled many into our circle. Nancy Segall, from our trip, just joined the board for this organization. It is inspiring to see the support networks that have formed for those living with HIV/AIDS, especially for the children.
On our last day, before flying to Entebbe, Uganda, we visited the UN Millenium Village Project (MVP). I have read a bit about them before, and I also read Jeffrey Sachs' "The End of Poverty" (which I highly recommend). In this he discusses these initiatives. Much to my surprise, I discovered that MVP was not just one model village, but projects spread out throughout a region. We were short on time, but our guides showed us examples of projects relating to education, health, entrepreneurship, and agriculture.
Women have created a basket-weaving co-op. Their work is beautiful. We also got lessons in basket weaving. I have a fine new appreciation for the art. The farm was very cool. We learned lots about banana and cassava trees. (Cassavas are a Godsend. They grow in seemingly sandy soil without any need for irrigation or fertilizer.)
I used to think this type of initiative was only good, but now I view them with a more critical eye. To begin, the development occurring in this region--paved roads, plans to relocate the airport, etc.--have had negative impacts as well. Due to people's desire to live there, the price of land has risen considerably. This means that the poorest of the poor cannot benefit unless they already own land in the region. Only those with some form of social mobility are able to move to the region and reap the benefits. Also, these projects are so dependent on outside inputs. They don't seem to be coming from the people, which I think is most sustainable in the long run. However, there are many benefits coming to the region. Better access to better health care, better school facilities, access to more productive crops, and infrastructure for income-generating projects, to name a few.
Okay, I'll end it here. What an experience I had in our short week in Rwanda.
We visited the genocide memorial at the church at Nyamata. People sought refuge at this church, but their religious leaders gave them into the Hutu Power. Over 10,000 people were maliciously killed at this site. In 1999, their bodies and remains were finally given a proper burial. People from the surrounding area have also been buried there and continue to be buried as they continue to find remains. The clothes from the bodies of all the people buried there have been piled on top of the benches in the church. It is breathtaking--the sheer number of clothes that line the rows where people should be sitting and praying instead of having been killed. In back, they have mass graves. There are over 40,000 peoples' remains buried there. 40,000 people. Stairs lead you down into the dank, dark resting places of these innocent people. It is something to behold the bare skulls and bones that fill shelf after shelf. Other remains are piled into caskets and stored in that manner.
There are striking stories of the brutal deaths people experience there; I think I will spare you of that, but I will share just this one. We said Kaddish in front of the wall where we learned, retrospectively, babies were killed when their legs were held and their bodies were swung and so their heads smashed against the wall. What more can I say.
Though I will say one more thing on that. The ride through the countryside to the memorial is breathtakingly beautiful. Rolling hills covered in lush vegetation and cultivation. It is so hard to imagine that such horrors could have taken place in such a peaceful, gorgeous place. But it is inspiring to see that life has returned to this region. We've learned that former members of the Hutu militia groups are being re-accepted back into their communities. It's hard for me to imagine what that process is like, but I am heartened to know that it is possible.
On Saturday, we visited CHABHA (Children Affected By HIV & AIDS). The kids were adorable. They sang and danced for us and then pulled many into our circle. Nancy Segall, from our trip, just joined the board for this organization. It is inspiring to see the support networks that have formed for those living with HIV/AIDS, especially for the children.
On our last day, before flying to Entebbe, Uganda, we visited the UN Millenium Village Project (MVP). I have read a bit about them before, and I also read Jeffrey Sachs' "The End of Poverty" (which I highly recommend). In this he discusses these initiatives. Much to my surprise, I discovered that MVP was not just one model village, but projects spread out throughout a region. We were short on time, but our guides showed us examples of projects relating to education, health, entrepreneurship, and agriculture.
Women have created a basket-weaving co-op. Their work is beautiful. We also got lessons in basket weaving. I have a fine new appreciation for the art. The farm was very cool. We learned lots about banana and cassava trees. (Cassavas are a Godsend. They grow in seemingly sandy soil without any need for irrigation or fertilizer.)
I used to think this type of initiative was only good, but now I view them with a more critical eye. To begin, the development occurring in this region--paved roads, plans to relocate the airport, etc.--have had negative impacts as well. Due to people's desire to live there, the price of land has risen considerably. This means that the poorest of the poor cannot benefit unless they already own land in the region. Only those with some form of social mobility are able to move to the region and reap the benefits. Also, these projects are so dependent on outside inputs. They don't seem to be coming from the people, which I think is most sustainable in the long run. However, there are many benefits coming to the region. Better access to better health care, better school facilities, access to more productive crops, and infrastructure for income-generating projects, to name a few.
Okay, I'll end it here. What an experience I had in our short week in Rwanda.
Monday, July 14, 2008
A Heartbreaking Day
Friday was possibly the hardest day so far. We began the day following along on WE-ACTx couselors' home visits. They visit their patients-- the poorest of the poor, those with the most problems. I went with two women, Amy and Nancy, and Odille was our counselor. To get to the first family, we had to climb halfway up one of the giant hills for which Rwanda is famous. The husband met us on the main road to escort us and show us the way. We followed a rocky, dirt path, that wound itself between homes. Finally we arrived at this two-room home. We had a seat on the couch and chairs in the living room, which was maybe 7-feet by 7-feet. It was connected to a bedroom, and that was the entire house. They rent the house and pay the equivalent of $20/month. This seems extraordinarily high. The husband is HIV+. The wife and children are fortunate enough not to be infected. They have 4 kids and an aunt also lives with them. However there are some issues between the husband and wife so she sleeps elsewhere.
It was hard to hear their story. He used to sell used sandals at the market. However, when he first got really sick, he sold everything. Now, thanks to WE-ACTx he is taking ARVs (anti-retrovirals) and has his strength back. The problem is that he does not have the upstart funds ($100) to buy the first initial package of sandals so he can get his business going again. Instead, the wife has to serve as the breadwinner for the family. She doesn't have steady work and just takes any odd job she can find. There is rarely enough food for all the mouths they have to feed and the husband has some problems when he has to take his ARVs on an empty stomach. He thinks about his own death often and his biggest concern is what he will be able to leave for his children when he dies. If I translated correctly, he told us, "If you are good people, you will buy me a house so that I can leave it for my children." How do you respond? What was most amazing is that despite all the hardships this family faces, he always spoke with a subtle smile on his face and there was a very quiet dignity about the both of them. Again, I am faced with this question of why have I been so lucky and this family so unlucky?
I was hurt the most, though, when he showed us his photos while we waited for his wife to arrive. He took a picture frame off a peg in the wall. It contained many photos. The protective glass was already broken in a few pieces. He was proud to show us a photo of his family, to share that with us. The frame was one of the few decorations on the wall. When he went to hang it up, the glass fell out and shattered on the floor. His prized possession. He didn't complain or utter a word. Instead, he took the frame into his bedroom and collected the glass and disposed of it outside. It was hard to watch. For someone who already has so little, this too, was now destroyed.
We took public transit to the next home visit. Unfortunately, we did not have a gift of rice and sugar to offer this family as we'd had with the first. The woman lived right along the street. Her husband, who was also HIV+ left her for some unknown reason. She lost her house in that process and now is living with her 4 children at her friend's house. But her friend has told her that she must leave at the end of August. She does not know where she'll go. She is on ARVs. The only health problem she has is that sometimes she doesn't have food with which to take her pills. She doesn't have a job. It was ironic when she asked us to bow our heads and prayed for everyone in the room, ourselves included. Here she was praying that God would be with us and benefit us. It was a special moment. I felt so inadequate.
We took transit back to the clinic where we joined the rest of the group. Then we went to a lovely lunch. It seemed so wrong to enjoy a feast after humbly sitting in people's homes where they do not have enough food to take with their pills and feed their children.
And on that note, it is time for dinner. As I fell behind on blogging, I'm going to slowly try and bring it up to speed. Please note, I made two entries just now. Tomorrow we will spend the day at the UN Millenium Village and then fly to Uganda. Hopefully we'll have internet access there too. But as always, no promises. I hope you enjoy the new look for my blog. I realized the last format was hard to read.
It was hard to hear their story. He used to sell used sandals at the market. However, when he first got really sick, he sold everything. Now, thanks to WE-ACTx he is taking ARVs (anti-retrovirals) and has his strength back. The problem is that he does not have the upstart funds ($100) to buy the first initial package of sandals so he can get his business going again. Instead, the wife has to serve as the breadwinner for the family. She doesn't have steady work and just takes any odd job she can find. There is rarely enough food for all the mouths they have to feed and the husband has some problems when he has to take his ARVs on an empty stomach. He thinks about his own death often and his biggest concern is what he will be able to leave for his children when he dies. If I translated correctly, he told us, "If you are good people, you will buy me a house so that I can leave it for my children." How do you respond? What was most amazing is that despite all the hardships this family faces, he always spoke with a subtle smile on his face and there was a very quiet dignity about the both of them. Again, I am faced with this question of why have I been so lucky and this family so unlucky?
I was hurt the most, though, when he showed us his photos while we waited for his wife to arrive. He took a picture frame off a peg in the wall. It contained many photos. The protective glass was already broken in a few pieces. He was proud to show us a photo of his family, to share that with us. The frame was one of the few decorations on the wall. When he went to hang it up, the glass fell out and shattered on the floor. His prized possession. He didn't complain or utter a word. Instead, he took the frame into his bedroom and collected the glass and disposed of it outside. It was hard to watch. For someone who already has so little, this too, was now destroyed.
We took public transit to the next home visit. Unfortunately, we did not have a gift of rice and sugar to offer this family as we'd had with the first. The woman lived right along the street. Her husband, who was also HIV+ left her for some unknown reason. She lost her house in that process and now is living with her 4 children at her friend's house. But her friend has told her that she must leave at the end of August. She does not know where she'll go. She is on ARVs. The only health problem she has is that sometimes she doesn't have food with which to take her pills. She doesn't have a job. It was ironic when she asked us to bow our heads and prayed for everyone in the room, ourselves included. Here she was praying that God would be with us and benefit us. It was a special moment. I felt so inadequate.
We took transit back to the clinic where we joined the rest of the group. Then we went to a lovely lunch. It seemed so wrong to enjoy a feast after humbly sitting in people's homes where they do not have enough food to take with their pills and feed their children.
And on that note, it is time for dinner. As I fell behind on blogging, I'm going to slowly try and bring it up to speed. Please note, I made two entries just now. Tomorrow we will spend the day at the UN Millenium Village and then fly to Uganda. Hopefully we'll have internet access there too. But as always, no promises. I hope you enjoy the new look for my blog. I realized the last format was hard to read.
Lions, Tigers, and Bears, Oh My!
Today we went on a safari in Akagera National Park on the eastern border of the country. Though we didn't see any lions, tigers, or bears, we did see lots of other fauna.
There were tons of impala (sp). They look a lot like deer. We also saw Tope, similar to antelope. When we arrived at a giant lake, the name of which is escaping me, we were fortunate enough to see several hippopotamus that were surfacing for air. There was one baby on its mother's back. There were also many Marabout Storks, probably the ugliest bird you'll ever see, but they are enormous and must have at least a 6-foot wing span. It was incredible to watch them take off.
As we were getting back in the bus, Jonah cried out, "Oh my God! Look at that big monkey!" We all turned to see and there, sure enough, was a baboon. We went on to see many of them, and other monkeys, throughout the rest of our safari. I was upset, though, because the first baboon was being fed by fisherman that live in the park. They threw carrots close to the bus so that baboon would come close to us and 'pose.' It's ironic that our first baboon sighting was in the only village in the park and that it was being fed by other humans in order to please us. Oh well. And I almost forgot to mention, the first animals we spotted were 3 giraffes. They were so majestic and beautiful and were well camouflaged.
After our safari, we went to lunch at the lodge in the park. Can we say WESTERN!? It was a little overwhelming. It was a beautiful building. They served us sandwiches and fruit by the gorgeous pool. Baboons and monkeys ran freely along the perimeter of the grounds. I think many in our group were relieved to be back in a setting so consistent with what we know in the States. It was certainly relaxing and I enjoyed a nap on one of the lounge chairs. (We left at 4:45 this morning!) However, I always feel uncomfortable in these settings.
The experience in this lodge is a far cry from the experience of this country's citizens. Anyone who stays there does not get to see the real Rwanda. And I don't know if this is a bad thing or not. After all, it does generate some local jobs, but most of the money goes to its Arab owners in Dubai. But largely, I don't think it's appropriate to come to a country and remain removed from the local reality, culture, population and instead limit yourself to the beautiful views and luxurious experience of a hotel owned by outsiders. It just doesn't seem right.
After our 2 hour break at the lodge, we went to Paul Farmer's Partners in Health hospital that is located just near the hotel. It was spectacular and uplifting to see this hospital and health center, especially after the public hospital we visited in Kigali. The facilities are beautiful and the care is good. While touring the wards, we actually saw nurses, several of them, tending to the patients. We were not aware of their presence at the public hospital. Paul Farmer is known for his program that is largely dependent on community health workers in each village area and then a more central health center and hospital. I don't remember all the numbers and statistics the country director gave us on our tour, but I understood that this model is working. They also provide more comprehensive care. For example, for mothers that are HIV+, they are provided with formula to feed their infants and a pot and kerosene so they can boil their water. It was a great experience. My conclusion is that, generally speaking, it is better to be poor in the village than in the big city. At least that would be the case in this province. Maybe that's just my privileged self speaking, admiring the calm, simple life found in the village and not recognizing the hard work that lifestyle requires, but that's the impression I have.
After that we came home, though we were treated to a visit to our bus driver's family's home to see the cow he received for his wedding. It was a beautiful cow. It was very nice of them to welcome us all into their compound.
The ride to and from the park was spectacular. Rwanda is a beautiful country! Our ride to the park was unforgettable. We slept in the dark bus until the rising sun illuminated our surroundings. It suddenly appeared beyond the hills, a glowing ball of orange fire. It gave light to the villagers already out and about taking care of their daily activities and affairs. People biked and walked up and down the road, often carrying a heavy load; small children waved to us; farmers tended to their fields.
The ride home was equally as beautiful with a gorgeous sunset. The late afternoon sun gave the hills and valleys a rich glow. The region is speckled with villages; banana trees and terraced farms cover the rest of the land. Tall tropical trees dominate the hilltops. The banana tree leaves were silhouetted against the sky, which changed from orange to pink to yellow.
I hope you can picture it, but words just don't do the scenes justice. I hope to share my pictures with you some day.
There were tons of impala (sp). They look a lot like deer. We also saw Tope, similar to antelope. When we arrived at a giant lake, the name of which is escaping me, we were fortunate enough to see several hippopotamus that were surfacing for air. There was one baby on its mother's back. There were also many Marabout Storks, probably the ugliest bird you'll ever see, but they are enormous and must have at least a 6-foot wing span. It was incredible to watch them take off.
As we were getting back in the bus, Jonah cried out, "Oh my God! Look at that big monkey!" We all turned to see and there, sure enough, was a baboon. We went on to see many of them, and other monkeys, throughout the rest of our safari. I was upset, though, because the first baboon was being fed by fisherman that live in the park. They threw carrots close to the bus so that baboon would come close to us and 'pose.' It's ironic that our first baboon sighting was in the only village in the park and that it was being fed by other humans in order to please us. Oh well. And I almost forgot to mention, the first animals we spotted were 3 giraffes. They were so majestic and beautiful and were well camouflaged.
After our safari, we went to lunch at the lodge in the park. Can we say WESTERN!? It was a little overwhelming. It was a beautiful building. They served us sandwiches and fruit by the gorgeous pool. Baboons and monkeys ran freely along the perimeter of the grounds. I think many in our group were relieved to be back in a setting so consistent with what we know in the States. It was certainly relaxing and I enjoyed a nap on one of the lounge chairs. (We left at 4:45 this morning!) However, I always feel uncomfortable in these settings.
The experience in this lodge is a far cry from the experience of this country's citizens. Anyone who stays there does not get to see the real Rwanda. And I don't know if this is a bad thing or not. After all, it does generate some local jobs, but most of the money goes to its Arab owners in Dubai. But largely, I don't think it's appropriate to come to a country and remain removed from the local reality, culture, population and instead limit yourself to the beautiful views and luxurious experience of a hotel owned by outsiders. It just doesn't seem right.
After our 2 hour break at the lodge, we went to Paul Farmer's Partners in Health hospital that is located just near the hotel. It was spectacular and uplifting to see this hospital and health center, especially after the public hospital we visited in Kigali. The facilities are beautiful and the care is good. While touring the wards, we actually saw nurses, several of them, tending to the patients. We were not aware of their presence at the public hospital. Paul Farmer is known for his program that is largely dependent on community health workers in each village area and then a more central health center and hospital. I don't remember all the numbers and statistics the country director gave us on our tour, but I understood that this model is working. They also provide more comprehensive care. For example, for mothers that are HIV+, they are provided with formula to feed their infants and a pot and kerosene so they can boil their water. It was a great experience. My conclusion is that, generally speaking, it is better to be poor in the village than in the big city. At least that would be the case in this province. Maybe that's just my privileged self speaking, admiring the calm, simple life found in the village and not recognizing the hard work that lifestyle requires, but that's the impression I have.
After that we came home, though we were treated to a visit to our bus driver's family's home to see the cow he received for his wedding. It was a beautiful cow. It was very nice of them to welcome us all into their compound.
The ride to and from the park was spectacular. Rwanda is a beautiful country! Our ride to the park was unforgettable. We slept in the dark bus until the rising sun illuminated our surroundings. It suddenly appeared beyond the hills, a glowing ball of orange fire. It gave light to the villagers already out and about taking care of their daily activities and affairs. People biked and walked up and down the road, often carrying a heavy load; small children waved to us; farmers tended to their fields.
The ride home was equally as beautiful with a gorgeous sunset. The late afternoon sun gave the hills and valleys a rich glow. The region is speckled with villages; banana trees and terraced farms cover the rest of the land. Tall tropical trees dominate the hilltops. The banana tree leaves were silhouetted against the sky, which changed from orange to pink to yellow.
I hope you can picture it, but words just don't do the scenes justice. I hope to share my pictures with you some day.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Clinics, Earth Boxes, and Hospitals
Sorry for the boring title. So Day 2 is complete. We began today at the WE-ACTx clinic in Nyamirambo. The kids (Jill and myself included) were herded off immediately to help package pills in the pharmacy. It was the first time many of us felt useful. The pharmacists, Marie Rose and Edith, were very engaging. I was grateful to speak French for their English wasn't strong. We chit-chatted about lots of things. It was nice to interact with Rwandans on an individual level rather than in the large group setting. As for the pills we packaged, Jill and I worked on a pill that prevents opportunistic infections. There was also ibuprofen, a multivitamin, an anti-fungal pill, and some others we didn't understand.
We had a sobering moment when the pharmacist turned to me and told me to tell Jonah (12 years old) that the boy on the other side of the window was his same age, but had the misfortune of contracting HIV from his mother. The boy had come to the clinic for his appointment all on his own and Marie-Rose assured me he was diligent enough to take his medications (it's very important to take them at specific hours). Can you imagine? What a sad reality for a 12 year old, but thank God he has access to these pills.
Overall, it was a good start to the day. Marie-Rose and Edith were grateful for the assistance. They explained that it's too hard to have to package the pills and serve the patients, so we had at least provided them with an adequate supply for the next couple days.
After this we proceeded to the WE-ACTx income generation and family counseling site in the neighborhood of Ramera. It was interesting to see. Our group brought Earth Boxes (www.earthbox.com). The idea behind the Earth Boxes is it allows for productive gardening in areas without a lot of soil or space. The Boxes are only so productive though because of carefully prepared soil, for which a lot of research has been conducted to determine the proper proportion of nutrients and all that. The soil must be replaced every year. They don't have this special soil blend here in Rwanda and, from what I understand, normally it must be purchased. Fortunately, a local agricultural expert is experimenting with different local soils to see if he cannot create something compatible. We're all crossing our fingers that it works.
I was pulled aside by a government official when we first arrived; he's the head of the Agriculture division, I believe. He asked me politely in French. "Excuse me, what are these things? I've never seen anything like it before." Yes, here we were 25 white people arriving with our 'efficient technology'. Thanks to my senior seminar in political ecology, I'm rather skeptical of projects like these, but WE-ACTx has had a few before and asked that we bring them. So that's good. There are lots of benefits too, as Beth just pointed out to me. For example, they allow women who do not own land to be able to grow produce and maybe even sell some for a profit. That's great! My biggest concern, and the rest of the group's too it sounds like, is regarding their sustainability.
But generally speaking, they were a hit, and at least a good mid-day activity. :) Rich led a training session and it was translated into Kinyarwanda. We were training the recipients of the Boxes. These were generally heads of associations that work with WE-ACTx, including many different groups for people living with HIV/AIDS. Women dressed in their lovely bou-bous donned aprons and gardening gloves and got down and dirty as they tried their hand at preparing and planting an Earth Box. It was great to watch. Watch, yes. I didn't participate much, rather preferring a seat in the shade.
The income generation project at this site is essentially a co-op for women with HIV/AIDS. They sew all types of bags, shirts, computer cases, etc. The products were beautiful. We all bought many souvenirs. I got myself a lovely purse. Me, always thinking of others.
The counseling component of the site has all types of activities. On Sunday we will experience some of these, so I will spare you now and write about it then.
After lunch, we went to the Public Hospital. This was the hardest part of the day for me. Brant put it best when he said to me after we left the children's ward, "There is fine line between bearing witness and voyeurism." I couldn't agree more. I felt uncomfortable and inappropriate going through the pediatric and adult wards observing the facilities, but also just seeing the sick. One woman tells me it's important to see though and be able to go home and tell people about the conditions, but I'm not sure what that will achieve either. The facilities were not state of the art like I see at home. And maybe I've just been fortunate enough to visit nice hospitals, I don't know. There were no private rooms, no monitoring systems or IVs. I don't like hospitals to begin with, and I have no qualifications to know what is important and what is not for patients. I presume that the care they receive is good, it's just hard to see so many sick people and to consider the costs of treatment. They have private insurance here, but there is also government assistance for those that need it, from what I understand.
Lots of hard moments. At one point a pick-up truck backed up the children's ward. A man and woman came out crying and carrying a suitcase. They were followed by people carrying a child's body covered in a blue cloth. They laid him in the back of the truck and two men sat to tend to the body during the drive. Later I saw an adult rolled out on a stretcher, again covered in a cloth. Not easy. I can only console myself thinking that now, at least, they are out of the pain that may have accompanied their illness.
There were also lots of children that followed us around the premises. Oye! I seemed to be their target of choice. It was so sad. "one hundred" one boy kept asking me and putting out his hand. (100 francs is the equivalent 20 cents.) He used all the English he knew with me, ranging from "How do you do? I'm wonderful," to "pilot" when a helicopter flew over head, to "my chest" describing his ailment. One small girl came and held my hand and wouldn't let go. They did this with everyone, I wasn't special but a couple of them refused to leave me. One girl's stomach was bloated beyond belief. At first we all thought she had a pillow under her shirt. She had to hold onto people's arms when walking or standing on a hill because she couldn't balance. This is a result of severe malnutrition.
It was so hard not to be able to give the kids anything. It tears me up inside. I really can't afford to give to every child that asks for money. But there I was holding my $40 filtering water bottle and not able to spare a little change. (I didn't have any change on me, but I did have $30 in my pocket.) Oh how can any of it be reconciled? Why are there such drastic differences? How did I get to be so fortunate?
One of the little kids had the most contagious laugh. The boy that kept pestering me for "one-hundred" would make jokes in Kinyarwanda and the other little boy would laugh in the most contagious way. We all would laugh along with him though we had no idea what was being said. It was pretty adorable. It was hard not being able to communicate with the kids. They didn't really understand English of French. Soon, I'll be back with small children that will understand Wolof and my heart will be broken all over again when the kids on the street ask me for money. Facing reality is the hard part about traveling.
We went to an Ethiopian restaurant for dinner. Yum. Tomorrow some of us are participating in WE-ACTx home visits to families with HIV+ members. Then some of us will go to the Memorial in Niyamato (sp). It is a Church at which a great massacre occurred and they have left it as it was after the Genocide to serve as a reminder to people. I'll tell you more tomorrow. Until then.
We had a sobering moment when the pharmacist turned to me and told me to tell Jonah (12 years old) that the boy on the other side of the window was his same age, but had the misfortune of contracting HIV from his mother. The boy had come to the clinic for his appointment all on his own and Marie-Rose assured me he was diligent enough to take his medications (it's very important to take them at specific hours). Can you imagine? What a sad reality for a 12 year old, but thank God he has access to these pills.
Overall, it was a good start to the day. Marie-Rose and Edith were grateful for the assistance. They explained that it's too hard to have to package the pills and serve the patients, so we had at least provided them with an adequate supply for the next couple days.
After this we proceeded to the WE-ACTx income generation and family counseling site in the neighborhood of Ramera. It was interesting to see. Our group brought Earth Boxes (www.earthbox.com). The idea behind the Earth Boxes is it allows for productive gardening in areas without a lot of soil or space. The Boxes are only so productive though because of carefully prepared soil, for which a lot of research has been conducted to determine the proper proportion of nutrients and all that. The soil must be replaced every year. They don't have this special soil blend here in Rwanda and, from what I understand, normally it must be purchased. Fortunately, a local agricultural expert is experimenting with different local soils to see if he cannot create something compatible. We're all crossing our fingers that it works.
I was pulled aside by a government official when we first arrived; he's the head of the Agriculture division, I believe. He asked me politely in French. "Excuse me, what are these things? I've never seen anything like it before." Yes, here we were 25 white people arriving with our 'efficient technology'. Thanks to my senior seminar in political ecology, I'm rather skeptical of projects like these, but WE-ACTx has had a few before and asked that we bring them. So that's good. There are lots of benefits too, as Beth just pointed out to me. For example, they allow women who do not own land to be able to grow produce and maybe even sell some for a profit. That's great! My biggest concern, and the rest of the group's too it sounds like, is regarding their sustainability.
But generally speaking, they were a hit, and at least a good mid-day activity. :) Rich led a training session and it was translated into Kinyarwanda. We were training the recipients of the Boxes. These were generally heads of associations that work with WE-ACTx, including many different groups for people living with HIV/AIDS. Women dressed in their lovely bou-bous donned aprons and gardening gloves and got down and dirty as they tried their hand at preparing and planting an Earth Box. It was great to watch. Watch, yes. I didn't participate much, rather preferring a seat in the shade.
The income generation project at this site is essentially a co-op for women with HIV/AIDS. They sew all types of bags, shirts, computer cases, etc. The products were beautiful. We all bought many souvenirs. I got myself a lovely purse. Me, always thinking of others.
The counseling component of the site has all types of activities. On Sunday we will experience some of these, so I will spare you now and write about it then.
After lunch, we went to the Public Hospital. This was the hardest part of the day for me. Brant put it best when he said to me after we left the children's ward, "There is fine line between bearing witness and voyeurism." I couldn't agree more. I felt uncomfortable and inappropriate going through the pediatric and adult wards observing the facilities, but also just seeing the sick. One woman tells me it's important to see though and be able to go home and tell people about the conditions, but I'm not sure what that will achieve either. The facilities were not state of the art like I see at home. And maybe I've just been fortunate enough to visit nice hospitals, I don't know. There were no private rooms, no monitoring systems or IVs. I don't like hospitals to begin with, and I have no qualifications to know what is important and what is not for patients. I presume that the care they receive is good, it's just hard to see so many sick people and to consider the costs of treatment. They have private insurance here, but there is also government assistance for those that need it, from what I understand.
Lots of hard moments. At one point a pick-up truck backed up the children's ward. A man and woman came out crying and carrying a suitcase. They were followed by people carrying a child's body covered in a blue cloth. They laid him in the back of the truck and two men sat to tend to the body during the drive. Later I saw an adult rolled out on a stretcher, again covered in a cloth. Not easy. I can only console myself thinking that now, at least, they are out of the pain that may have accompanied their illness.
There were also lots of children that followed us around the premises. Oye! I seemed to be their target of choice. It was so sad. "one hundred" one boy kept asking me and putting out his hand. (100 francs is the equivalent 20 cents.) He used all the English he knew with me, ranging from "How do you do? I'm wonderful," to "pilot" when a helicopter flew over head, to "my chest" describing his ailment. One small girl came and held my hand and wouldn't let go. They did this with everyone, I wasn't special but a couple of them refused to leave me. One girl's stomach was bloated beyond belief. At first we all thought she had a pillow under her shirt. She had to hold onto people's arms when walking or standing on a hill because she couldn't balance. This is a result of severe malnutrition.
It was so hard not to be able to give the kids anything. It tears me up inside. I really can't afford to give to every child that asks for money. But there I was holding my $40 filtering water bottle and not able to spare a little change. (I didn't have any change on me, but I did have $30 in my pocket.) Oh how can any of it be reconciled? Why are there such drastic differences? How did I get to be so fortunate?
One of the little kids had the most contagious laugh. The boy that kept pestering me for "one-hundred" would make jokes in Kinyarwanda and the other little boy would laugh in the most contagious way. We all would laugh along with him though we had no idea what was being said. It was pretty adorable. It was hard not being able to communicate with the kids. They didn't really understand English of French. Soon, I'll be back with small children that will understand Wolof and my heart will be broken all over again when the kids on the street ask me for money. Facing reality is the hard part about traveling.
We went to an Ethiopian restaurant for dinner. Yum. Tomorrow some of us are participating in WE-ACTx home visits to families with HIV+ members. Then some of us will go to the Memorial in Niyamato (sp). It is a Church at which a great massacre occurred and they have left it as it was after the Genocide to serve as a reminder to people. I'll tell you more tomorrow. Until then.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
A Sobering Start
Well, here I am, safe and sound in Kigali, the capital of Rwanda. After 4 flights, we arrived last night around 9pm local time. It was dark when we arrived, but this morning we woke up to the beautiful hills for which Kigali, and the country, is known. I've heard it referred to as the San Francisco of the West, with regard its the terrain.
We are living in luxury here at a beautiful hotel, La Palisse. There is a pool and our room has a small balcony overlooking the hills. We have a flush toilet and warm water, as well as a mosquito net, minibar fridge and television in our room. The lobby provides free internet. I feel slightly guilty, but I am not complaining.
In any event we kicked the day off with a visit to WE-ACTx, a clinic for folks with HIV/AIDS. They are a great group. I'm excited to learn more about their work; they are very decentralized. It is an NGO that truly responds to the needs of the people, rather than acting on what 'they' think the people need. In any event, I went as a translator to help while the doctors on our trip observed patient consultations. My medical French vocabulary isn't strong, but between my skills and the doctor's knowledge and common medical language, we were able to put the pieces together. It was humbling and awkward, though, to sit in on a person's doctor appointment. The incredible part though is that the Rwandan government provides antiretroviral treatments for free. This has made a HUGE difference for those living with the disease. They can be functioning and contributing members of their community. This was not the case before ARVs were available. Only 40-50% of the population in need, however, is currently receiving treatment.
After a delicious lunch (rice, beans, spinach? stew, fish, and squash), we went to the Kigali Memorial Center. It has an exhibition hall which tells the history of Rwanda leading up the 1994 genocide and also has an exhibit dedicated to some of the other genocides that have occurred, including Armenia, Bosnia, Cambodia, and Southwest Africa. The museum was quite moving. In addition to the thorough historic account, there were many graphic photographs that really helped me understand how this country looked in those days. I can't say that I will ever understand their experiences.
I was particularly struck by the darkly lit room that had many display cases containing skulls and bones. Some of the skulls were smashed or had chunks missing. But generally speaking, they were all the same. In the end, every human being has the same fundamental bones. It's incredible the things we do to one another based on looks. And I am not only referring to this genocide.
At the end of the exhibit, they had photos of children, young children. Little plaques described their favorite food or best friend, etc. It also described the way by which they died. Many were macheted to death. One small child was killed when he was stabbed in both eyes and the skull. How could there have been such hatred, such maliciousness? And these were innocent children. We can thank colonizers for creating a distinction between Hutus and Tutsis. Prior to their arrival they lived as one people. They were all simply Rwandans.
Before we went into the museum, though, we paid our respects at one of the mass graves. This particular one has a glass cover, allowing you to see the caskets. This memorial site is also a mass burial site for the victims in Kigali alone. To date they have buried 258,000 people. There are 15 mass graves. Each is 15 feet deep and can hold up to 50,000 people. And these were just the victims in Kigali. We said Kaddish (a Jewish mourning prayer) and placed stones on the grave.
It is really unfathomable. But it is so fresh. Every Jewish person knows someone, at least, who was personally affected by the Holocaust. But time has begun to distance us. Here, however, every single Rwandan was directly influenced by this genocide. It's striking, astounding. There are really no words to describe the feelings that accompany me here. A lot is a lack of comprehension.
On the bus ride, one woman asked our bus driver if he was here in 1994. He was not, he was safe in Burundi. I had been near him in the exhibit and he had cried a great deal. Then she asked, with her unyielding curiosity, if he had lost someone in the genocide. "Oui," he responded. She asked, "Who?" and he did not answer. Everyone, save the children who were born after, has this memory to cope with. It's hard (hard does not do it justice, but I don't know another word).
Oh there is so much to share with you, but I fear it's too long. One thing though, WE-ACTx was formed because women here grouped together and asked for help. They were upset because many of them had contracted HIV when they were raped during the genocide. Their rapists, who were locked up in jail, were receiving ARVs and they were not. Oh the contradiction! Mardge Cohen, a co-founder of the clinic, explained the mental stress from which many of their clients suffer. Having survived the Genocide, they now have to deal with this stigmatizing and potentially debilitating disease.
We did a check in tonight. We each shared our personal reasons for coming and how we're feeling so far. I thought I'd share my response. I came because my experience in Senegal in 2006-2007 was so transformative for me. When I heard about this trip with the synagogue, I was eager to participate. It was a good opportunity to see a different region of Africa and also to have a Jewish experience here. That was an important missing component of my experiences in Senegal. I was lucky enough to make things work so this trip was possible.
I am struggling with being a tourist and traveling with a large group. And though I have a leg up on the others by speaking French, I still feel as though I cannot communicate. I wish I could speak Kinyarwanda or Swahili. I struggle with speaking the 'colonizers' language. One week is not enough time to immerse myself in a culture and to get to know the people. That is how I prefer to travel. But I still think it is important to come.
I also recognize over and over the great privileges that I have been given in my life. It is hard to reconcile all that I have compared with the poor mother begging with her baby on the street. And I consider myself to be a poor college graduate. Poor. Hmmmm.
It's good to be back on this continent, general a comment as that is.
I am glad I'm here. Brant (our rabbi) put it the best when he emphasized the importance of coming and bearing witness. Today has been a striking and sobering start to this journey.
We are living in luxury here at a beautiful hotel, La Palisse. There is a pool and our room has a small balcony overlooking the hills. We have a flush toilet and warm water, as well as a mosquito net, minibar fridge and television in our room. The lobby provides free internet. I feel slightly guilty, but I am not complaining.
In any event we kicked the day off with a visit to WE-ACTx, a clinic for folks with HIV/AIDS. They are a great group. I'm excited to learn more about their work; they are very decentralized. It is an NGO that truly responds to the needs of the people, rather than acting on what 'they' think the people need. In any event, I went as a translator to help while the doctors on our trip observed patient consultations. My medical French vocabulary isn't strong, but between my skills and the doctor's knowledge and common medical language, we were able to put the pieces together. It was humbling and awkward, though, to sit in on a person's doctor appointment. The incredible part though is that the Rwandan government provides antiretroviral treatments for free. This has made a HUGE difference for those living with the disease. They can be functioning and contributing members of their community. This was not the case before ARVs were available. Only 40-50% of the population in need, however, is currently receiving treatment.
After a delicious lunch (rice, beans, spinach? stew, fish, and squash), we went to the Kigali Memorial Center. It has an exhibition hall which tells the history of Rwanda leading up the 1994 genocide and also has an exhibit dedicated to some of the other genocides that have occurred, including Armenia, Bosnia, Cambodia, and Southwest Africa. The museum was quite moving. In addition to the thorough historic account, there were many graphic photographs that really helped me understand how this country looked in those days. I can't say that I will ever understand their experiences.
I was particularly struck by the darkly lit room that had many display cases containing skulls and bones. Some of the skulls were smashed or had chunks missing. But generally speaking, they were all the same. In the end, every human being has the same fundamental bones. It's incredible the things we do to one another based on looks. And I am not only referring to this genocide.
At the end of the exhibit, they had photos of children, young children. Little plaques described their favorite food or best friend, etc. It also described the way by which they died. Many were macheted to death. One small child was killed when he was stabbed in both eyes and the skull. How could there have been such hatred, such maliciousness? And these were innocent children. We can thank colonizers for creating a distinction between Hutus and Tutsis. Prior to their arrival they lived as one people. They were all simply Rwandans.
Before we went into the museum, though, we paid our respects at one of the mass graves. This particular one has a glass cover, allowing you to see the caskets. This memorial site is also a mass burial site for the victims in Kigali alone. To date they have buried 258,000 people. There are 15 mass graves. Each is 15 feet deep and can hold up to 50,000 people. And these were just the victims in Kigali. We said Kaddish (a Jewish mourning prayer) and placed stones on the grave.
It is really unfathomable. But it is so fresh. Every Jewish person knows someone, at least, who was personally affected by the Holocaust. But time has begun to distance us. Here, however, every single Rwandan was directly influenced by this genocide. It's striking, astounding. There are really no words to describe the feelings that accompany me here. A lot is a lack of comprehension.
On the bus ride, one woman asked our bus driver if he was here in 1994. He was not, he was safe in Burundi. I had been near him in the exhibit and he had cried a great deal. Then she asked, with her unyielding curiosity, if he had lost someone in the genocide. "Oui," he responded. She asked, "Who?" and he did not answer. Everyone, save the children who were born after, has this memory to cope with. It's hard (hard does not do it justice, but I don't know another word).
Oh there is so much to share with you, but I fear it's too long. One thing though, WE-ACTx was formed because women here grouped together and asked for help. They were upset because many of them had contracted HIV when they were raped during the genocide. Their rapists, who were locked up in jail, were receiving ARVs and they were not. Oh the contradiction! Mardge Cohen, a co-founder of the clinic, explained the mental stress from which many of their clients suffer. Having survived the Genocide, they now have to deal with this stigmatizing and potentially debilitating disease.
We did a check in tonight. We each shared our personal reasons for coming and how we're feeling so far. I thought I'd share my response. I came because my experience in Senegal in 2006-2007 was so transformative for me. When I heard about this trip with the synagogue, I was eager to participate. It was a good opportunity to see a different region of Africa and also to have a Jewish experience here. That was an important missing component of my experiences in Senegal. I was lucky enough to make things work so this trip was possible.
I am struggling with being a tourist and traveling with a large group. And though I have a leg up on the others by speaking French, I still feel as though I cannot communicate. I wish I could speak Kinyarwanda or Swahili. I struggle with speaking the 'colonizers' language. One week is not enough time to immerse myself in a culture and to get to know the people. That is how I prefer to travel. But I still think it is important to come.
I also recognize over and over the great privileges that I have been given in my life. It is hard to reconcile all that I have compared with the poor mother begging with her baby on the street. And I consider myself to be a poor college graduate. Poor. Hmmmm.
It's good to be back on this continent, general a comment as that is.
I am glad I'm here. Brant (our rabbi) put it the best when he emphasized the importance of coming and bearing witness. Today has been a striking and sobering start to this journey.
Monday, July 7, 2008
24-hours of travel before I'm there
Well, the moment has almost arrived. Here I sit in my Evanston home, everything just about ready to go. I'm finally going back.
I am excited, nervous, a little anxious, but mostly exhausted. I'm ready to be there... but a long 24-hours of travel and an 8-hour time change stand between me and my arrival in Entebbe, Uganda.
I'll be flying from Chicago to Atlanta to Amsterdam to Entebbe. But it's not over there. Then we continue on to Kigali, Rwanda, so even more traveling. Oye. If everything goes as planned I'll meet the JRC group in Amsterdam and continue on with them. Keep your fingers crossed.
And so you probably want to know what I'm doing for the next six weeks. I'm going to Rwanda and Uganda to volunteer for 2 weeks with people from my synagogue (JRC in Evanston). In Rwanda, we'll be volunteering at the WE-ACTx clinic for women with HIV/AIDS. In Uganda, we'll be volunteering at the Mirembe Kawomera coffee Cooperative. We will also be spending Shabbat with the Abayudaya, a Jewish ethnic group located in the Mbale district in Eastern Uganda. I am incredibly excited for all this.
Then I am continuing on to Senegal to hang out for a month with my friends and families over there. To get to Senegal, I am flying from Entebbe, Uganda to Johannesburg, South Africa and finally to Dakar, Senegal. Another 20 hours of travel. Travel within the continent ain't so easy over there.
I'll stop with these monotonous details and save space for more interesting entries once I finally arrive. Hopefully, I'll have some internet access.
In any event, I have wanted to return to Senegal since I left it a year ago. I cannot wait to go back to the people, places and culture I knew then. And I am thrilled that I will be able to experience East Africa as well. I'm so grateful for this upcoming opportunity. My last hoorah for my last summer break before entering the real world.
I am excited, nervous, a little anxious, but mostly exhausted. I'm ready to be there... but a long 24-hours of travel and an 8-hour time change stand between me and my arrival in Entebbe, Uganda.
I'll be flying from Chicago to Atlanta to Amsterdam to Entebbe. But it's not over there. Then we continue on to Kigali, Rwanda, so even more traveling. Oye. If everything goes as planned I'll meet the JRC group in Amsterdam and continue on with them. Keep your fingers crossed.
And so you probably want to know what I'm doing for the next six weeks. I'm going to Rwanda and Uganda to volunteer for 2 weeks with people from my synagogue (JRC in Evanston). In Rwanda, we'll be volunteering at the WE-ACTx clinic for women with HIV/AIDS. In Uganda, we'll be volunteering at the Mirembe Kawomera coffee Cooperative. We will also be spending Shabbat with the Abayudaya, a Jewish ethnic group located in the Mbale district in Eastern Uganda. I am incredibly excited for all this.
Then I am continuing on to Senegal to hang out for a month with my friends and families over there. To get to Senegal, I am flying from Entebbe, Uganda to Johannesburg, South Africa and finally to Dakar, Senegal. Another 20 hours of travel. Travel within the continent ain't so easy over there.
I'll stop with these monotonous details and save space for more interesting entries once I finally arrive. Hopefully, I'll have some internet access.
In any event, I have wanted to return to Senegal since I left it a year ago. I cannot wait to go back to the people, places and culture I knew then. And I am thrilled that I will be able to experience East Africa as well. I'm so grateful for this upcoming opportunity. My last hoorah for my last summer break before entering the real world.
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