‘What is a cultural difference?’ is not a silly question but a hard one to answer. The concept of ‘time’ is an obvious key notion when comparing two cultures. What is means to be ‘on time’, ‘late’ in Australia, Germany or Japan is different from what it means in Somalia, India or Rwanda, for instance. Saying I will see you next Thursday definitely means something different in Australia and Rwanda... This is exactly what the headmistress from Rugerero and I said to each other when we spoke on the phone last week, when I was in Kigali. It appears that this meant something completely different for both of us...
For me, it meant: I really need to do some work with the management of this school and prepare the new academic year, we can start the process of much needed collaboration. For Jeannette, the headmistress, this must have meant something completely different... Thursday came... and we did not see each other. Unapologetically, she told me that she would not be able to make it, that Sunday would be better. I said ‘OK, see you on Sunday’. Again she called me and said in a matter of fact way: 'I can’t make it on Sunday, I will see you on Monday...’
Will I see her on Monday? I have no idea. I sent a text message last night to ask her if we would see each other in the morning or in the afternoon, but did not get any reply (how long it takes to reply to a SMS varies according to different cultures, I assume!).
So, here I am, I have prepared a solid working session with the headmistress, 1600 children will be showing up to school tomorrow morning and I have been able to catch up with the headmistress. Time is a more elusive, plastic concept for her than for me. I do get frustrated, in my mind I hear voices say: we are running out of precious time, time is money, it is high time to have that Thursday meeting...’ What’s happening in Jeanette’s mind regarding timing and this farcical meeting, I am not sure. Probably not much. I rationalise: In her culture, her relationship with time is probably different from mine... I also can’t help thinking: ‘She is lazy, she does not want to work, she avoids me, she is going to be like this all year, what can I do if I can’t count on the good will and collaboration of the top management of that school? My time here will have been a waste of time...
Then I start thinking of the assistant to the headmistress, Callixte. He cancelled our meeting of Friday, claiming that he had to attend another meeting at the District. He has done nothing to replace the broken windows of the school. I pointed out to him that it needed to be done urgently three and a half weeks ago and have reminded him whenever I have seen him again. In the last few days, he keeps saying that he will make sure that the three cupboards already built for the classrooms are brought to the school... Nothing has been done.
The carpenters promised me that these sixteen cupboards will be ready in 4-5 weeks. Will they?
I realise more and more that part of my job here is to adapt to this kind of relationship with time but I must point out to the people I will be working with that se you on Thursday can mean you and I will have a meeting on Thursday.
The question I have to answer now is: is it a different relationship to time or laziness? Time will tell...
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Nitendo? - No
Nitendo? - No!
Sesame street? - What for?
Facebook friends? - None...
Just sitting together,
On the tall grass,
Feeling the earth below...
Water
Water
You can get it at home from a tap in your bathroom,
You can get it from a rain tank in your garden,
You can get it from the river, a couple of kilometres away.
Its different origin tells a different story:
It may have been purified, fluorised ,
It may have been contaminated by a dead animal drowned in the tank,
It may carry faeces of other people or nasty parasites...
You can get it at home from a tap in your bathroom,
You can get it from a rain tank in your garden,
You can get it from the river, a couple of kilometres away.
Its different origin tells a different story:
It may have been purified, fluorised ,
It may have been contaminated by a dead animal drowned in the tank,
It may carry faeces of other people or nasty parasites...
The chicken or the egg?
The chicken or the egg?
Will teachers work better because they are better paid,
or will they be better paid because they work better?
Will teachers teach better because they receive Abana help
or will they receive Abana help because they teach better?
Will a progressive Rwanda set up a better primary school system
or will a good primary school system create a better Rwanda?
Saturday, January 30, 2010
A stopover at the Muganza Health Centre
A stopover at the Muganza Health Centre
Tomorrow I am off to Kigali after about 3 weeks of life at Rugerero. I have mixed feelings about leaving this peaceful setting and go to the ‘big’ city. I have no idea what is happening in the world... World War Three could have started, I would be quite blissfully unaware of it... How is Federer doing in the Australian Open??? I spend the night in Muganza, where Soeur Josephione works and lives. The Sister superior has allowed me to stay there since the taxi/bus to Butare leaves at 5:30AM. I ride my motorbike, with my suitcase attached to the pillion seat with stripes from and an inner tube of a car tyre and my back pack – a delicate balance on the rough and slippery 11 km road. I am writing about it, so I must have survived.
Soeur Josephine has arranged for Soeur Adeline to show me the Health Centre. Soeur Adeline is a nurse. She is in charge of running the Health Centre but she is much more than an administrator: she is the brain, the heart, the lateral thinker and the soul of this incredible community service that she is providing. This tiny place is about birth (local women come and deliver their babies here), it is about sustaining life to those under attack from Third World countries diseases such as paludism, malaria, HIV-AIDS, and I am sure , occasionally it is a place about death.
It is not the Royal North Shore hospital, it is a very small area with tiny rooms allocated to the delivery of babies, to emergency treatment, to a mini laboratory for blood and urine tests.
A couple of solar panels bring the minimum of energy required to run basic equipment. Soeur Adeline takes me through the complex circuit a patient goes through when visiting the Centre. She keeps a record of absolutely everything: how many pills against diarrea were given last June? She knows. How many women were treated positive to HIV-AiDS in December? She knows. How much health insurance was paid over any three months period? She knows. She tells me that quite a number of locals can’t afford the 2000 RWFR (4 Aus$) per year to cover their health in surance and have access to free medical treatment.
As I am explained all this, even though consultation time is officially over, a few emergency cases (including an old lady being brought in on a makeshift stretcher) bring a few more customers. Soeur Adeline remains calm, factual throughout the entire visit. She is totally committed to the wonderful and vital service she is providing to the community. There is no doubt in my mind that the spiritual dimension attached to her work is a key to the success of her mission.
Royal North Shore Hospital, you have serious competition!!!
Tomorrow I am off to Kigali after about 3 weeks of life at Rugerero. I have mixed feelings about leaving this peaceful setting and go to the ‘big’ city. I have no idea what is happening in the world... World War Three could have started, I would be quite blissfully unaware of it... How is Federer doing in the Australian Open??? I spend the night in Muganza, where Soeur Josephione works and lives. The Sister superior has allowed me to stay there since the taxi/bus to Butare leaves at 5:30AM. I ride my motorbike, with my suitcase attached to the pillion seat with stripes from and an inner tube of a car tyre and my back pack – a delicate balance on the rough and slippery 11 km road. I am writing about it, so I must have survived.
Soeur Josephine has arranged for Soeur Adeline to show me the Health Centre. Soeur Adeline is a nurse. She is in charge of running the Health Centre but she is much more than an administrator: she is the brain, the heart, the lateral thinker and the soul of this incredible community service that she is providing. This tiny place is about birth (local women come and deliver their babies here), it is about sustaining life to those under attack from Third World countries diseases such as paludism, malaria, HIV-AIDS, and I am sure , occasionally it is a place about death.
It is not the Royal North Shore hospital, it is a very small area with tiny rooms allocated to the delivery of babies, to emergency treatment, to a mini laboratory for blood and urine tests.
A couple of solar panels bring the minimum of energy required to run basic equipment. Soeur Adeline takes me through the complex circuit a patient goes through when visiting the Centre. She keeps a record of absolutely everything: how many pills against diarrea were given last June? She knows. How many women were treated positive to HIV-AiDS in December? She knows. How much health insurance was paid over any three months period? She knows. She tells me that quite a number of locals can’t afford the 2000 RWFR (4 Aus$) per year to cover their health in surance and have access to free medical treatment.
As I am explained all this, even though consultation time is officially over, a few emergency cases (including an old lady being brought in on a makeshift stretcher) bring a few more customers. Soeur Adeline remains calm, factual throughout the entire visit. She is totally committed to the wonderful and vital service she is providing to the community. There is no doubt in my mind that the spiritual dimension attached to her work is a key to the success of her mission.
Royal North Shore Hospital, you have serious competition!!!
Training the teachers...
Training the teachers
On Tuesday, children go back to school and I will have a clearer view of how the school runs. By Australian / GPS school standards, I am expecting chaos, and I am looking forward to it.
I am now seriously preparing to train the Rugerero teachers on two fronts: I will teach them English on Saturday morning and I will train them about teaching methodology... I am starting to prepare some material which I will discuss with them and leave on the walls of the new staff room...
I will also attend classes to observe and discuss with teachers how their teaching came across...
On your marks, set, go!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Ways and means of paying for your daughter’s school fees
Ways and means of paying for your daughter’s school fees
How can you pay for your daughter’s school fees? You can write a check. I you don’t have a checkbook, you can pay cash. If you don’t have cash, you can cut a few trees on your land, make some charcoal (used around here to fuel cooking stoves) and sell it to the local community. With the cash earned, you can pay for your daughter’s school fees...
What if you don’t have a piece of land with trees, or cash or a check book? Then your daughter will stay home... Let's hope there will never be a link in Rwanda between education and deforestation!
The office
The office
A popular British TV series focuses on the intricate inner politics and pettiness of a typical, western-world office. The office of the headmaster of Rugerero is interesting in many other ways. Total absence of any trace of any management work whatsoever... Nothing! Not even one file with a class list, not a desk with any document on it, not a pen, nothing on the walls. Any Zen, minimalist office in the world would look like Baroque or Rococo compared the Rugerero’s headmaster’s office.
1600 children will be climbing up the hills to go back to school on Tuesday morning. I hear the school is short of 12 teachers and that the District is desperately looking for teachers (you qualify as ‘teacher’ if you have graduated from secondary education). I feel nervous, anxious, panic-stricken, The headmaster is cool as a cucumber. Rwandan ‘No worries, mate’ is thriving...
A popular British TV series focuses on the intricate inner politics and pettiness of a typical, western-world office. The office of the headmaster of Rugerero is interesting in many other ways. Total absence of any trace of any management work whatsoever... Nothing! Not even one file with a class list, not a desk with any document on it, not a pen, nothing on the walls. Any Zen, minimalist office in the world would look like Baroque or Rococo compared the Rugerero’s headmaster’s office.
1600 children will be climbing up the hills to go back to school on Tuesday morning. I hear the school is short of 12 teachers and that the District is desperately looking for teachers (you qualify as ‘teacher’ if you have graduated from secondary education). I feel nervous, anxious, panic-stricken, The headmaster is cool as a cucumber. Rwandan ‘No worries, mate’ is thriving...
An intelligent man
An intelligent man
Throughout his seventy years of existence, Papa Jacynth has spent more time tilling his land than reading books. Yet his analytical skills, his insights, his local knowledge and his wisdom are impressive. I always feel humbled when I speak to him... In brief, he simply ‘gets it’. When there is an issue to be discussed, he goes straight to the point and does not waste much time in futile digressions. He understands what the struggle to develop Rugerero Primary is all about. He knows what is at stake, what the real obstacles are and who the assets and adjuvants are...
My understanding of the Rugerero problems is somewhat abstract, analytical and undoubtedly ethnocentric, his is more direct, ‘gut-felt’ , organic...
I take my hat off to papa Jacynth.... I want him on the local, informal Abana committee that I would like to establish around here before I leave!
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Why?
Why?
After 5 days in Kigali, I am now back at the cottage. Why am I delighted to go back to having a ‘shower’ with a bucket and a cup by candle light? I do wonder.
Am I betraying western civilization? Am I being ungrateful to the white man’s conquest over harsh living conditions? Am I falling into the JJ Rousseau’s illusion that man was better before becoming civilised, domesticated? Am I discovering the simplicity, beauty and joy of everyday gestures? Am I going native? Am I regressing into a barbarian? Am I going to join the Byron Bay Ferals when I return to Australia? Will I get off the electricity grid and renounce tap water? Have I been hit by the gorilla syndrome? The answer to all the above is: ‘I am not sure’.
What is sure is that I enjoyed my ‘bucket and cup’ shower tonight. It feels good to be back in the Rugerero hills. I was also delighted to find out that I bought the right modem to make it possible for me to access Internet, read my emails and post this item on my blog...
Full of contradictions? Who? Me? You bet...
Solar panels appeal Please, please, let’s there be light
Solar panels appeal... Please, please, let’s there be light
A school should have some electricity. Rugerero primary does not...
In two months’ time, would like to leave the area (I am sad already to think about it) with the good feeling that the school will now be able to operate CD players, show senior pupils how to use i a computer in their IT classes, have a few light bulbs in each classroom, has a printer and can easily access the Internet.
I am not asking for a Las Vegas extravaganza, just for a stepping stone to access basic educational technology requiring electricity. Electricity from the grid won’t be coming here for many years, if it does, so, solar panels are the way to go to move forward NOW... I was encouraged to make this a short term goal after I went to meet the the local administrative office Of the Kivu sector, on the hill right next to Rugerero Primary. Entering their premises was like entering another world: light bulbs, power sockets, computers, printers, Internet access... it looked like any modern office. Vincent, the man in charge, said he was very happy with the set up he had: electricity 365 days a year, no problem.
Rugerero Primary deserves a similar set up! I have made good progress sourcing the company which installed their system, they are happy to do the same for us and I am waiting for the quote.
I hereby make a formal appeal to people in Australia... If you can, please contribute a few dollars to help this project become reality. If you can, go to the Abana website (www.abana.org.au) and follow the prompts or contact Chrisine, the Aban President of this small worthy NGO.
Please, please, let’s there be light
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Social glue
Back home in Australia, I no longer greet my neighbours since the day they ‘anonymously’ called the body corporate to complain about my daughter’s little dog when she comes and visit me once in a while... They also wrote letters, changed the body corporate rules... they did everything to make me dislike them. I hate to admit it, but I don’t like my neighbours... This is an extreme example of what can happen when to what should bind us together in a social group. The glue has dried up and I feel no connexion with these human beings.
Here in Rwanda, I am always amazed by how ‘strangers’ so readily talk to each other, interact in a cheerful and jovial manner. In the bus taking me to Busanze, the other day, I was amazed by how passengers who did not know each other at all quickly started to talk to each other, to laugh, to joke. The two hours journey went by very fast!
People connect with each other all the time. There is a lot of warmth between individuals, people take the time to greet each other, to shake hands, to chit-chat. It makes me wonder if in our modern, western society we have not become too cut off from each other, too caught up in our individual pursuits and perhaps a little bit too serious...
Can you help me please?
Can you help please?
There is pride and dignity in Rwanda, lots of it. There is also poverty and a constant lack of cash flow for a large proportion of the population.
Being a muzungo, I am seen by a large proportion of the population as a boundless source of cash, a sort of free for all mobile ATM machine. Professional beggars are few (no more than in Paris, for instance, and far less than in most developing countries). They are desperate and can spot a muzungo from miles away. They try their luck but never insist for too long, if they can see that they don’t stand a chance.
Other examples of ‘can-you-help-me-please’ are more symptomatic of a different attitude which operates on the following principle: ‘I am not destitute, I have enough to eat, a place to live, BUT you are white, rich and you can help me paying off my motor bike or sending my oldest son to school. I just don’t have enough cash for that. Please, help me! God will bless you.”
This is more symptomatic of a form of aid which has not helped Africa or Africans all that much over the last few decades. Yet it is still here.
I am aware that school management see me mostly as someone who can be instrumental to bring some cash in and to cover their ongoing expenses. I hope I can do more than that!
A lst example of ‘can-you-help-me-please?’: Sunday morning, someone vewry well dressed for mass comes and asks me if I can give her a little bit of money for her small donation at church... What would God have thought of her if I had said ‘yes’?
Thank you - Murakoze
Thank you / Murakoze
To each, to learn, to delve into some kind of formal education, one needs a few basic ingredients – most of which are lacking at Rugerero Primary. This is why I am donating, on behalf of Abana and thanks to the generosity of the many Australians, some of these items, which we take for granted at home:
A few hundred textbooks to learn English (the ew language of education in Rwanda)
A CD player and radio
A Few CD’s of songs for children to learn English
Some flash cards for teachers
A couple of hundreds of textbooks and pens for those children who can’t afford anything to go to school
Some basic equipment for teachers to create their own teaching material (thick paper sheets, markers, glue, masking tape, flipcharts, scissors)
Some posters to put on the walls in each classroom (soeur Josephine was able to buy 10 maps of Rwanda for 9US$) in the streets of Kigali, yesterday!)
So this blog post is dedicated to the anonymous and generous people who donated a few dollars for this worthy cause.
MURAKOZE!
To each, to learn, to delve into some kind of formal education, one needs a few basic ingredients – most of which are lacking at Rugerero Primary. This is why I am donating, on behalf of Abana and thanks to the generosity of the many Australians, some of these items, which we take for granted at home:
A few hundred textbooks to learn English (the ew language of education in Rwanda)
A CD player and radio
A Few CD’s of songs for children to learn English
Some flash cards for teachers
A couple of hundreds of textbooks and pens for those children who can’t afford anything to go to school
Some basic equipment for teachers to create their own teaching material (thick paper sheets, markers, glue, masking tape, flipcharts, scissors)
Some posters to put on the walls in each classroom (soeur Josephine was able to buy 10 maps of Rwanda for 9US$) in the streets of Kigali, yesterday!)
So this blog post is dedicated to the anonymous and generous people who donated a few dollars for this worthy cause.
MURAKOZE!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
At the Iris Guesthouse...
At the Iris Guesthouse...
Lots of Muzungos come and stay at the Iris Guesthouse. 70 US$ a night does keep most Rwandans away. It also keeps all backpackers at bay. However, quite a few Rwandans come through the Iris Guesthouse... They come, sit down, share a drink or a meal with the Muzungos – most of whom working for NGO’s or part of a company doing business here.
What brings them together? What binds them? What do they talk about? The Rwandan visitors all look very ‘professional’ in their Western style clothes. They park their nice cars (often 4WD’s) in the parking lot in front of the hotel. They speak impeccable English or French, according to who their interlocutors are. They are well educated and are all instrumental to the building of modern, westernised Rwanda. They belong to a new social elite based mostly on academic achievements. They represent a new type of intelligentsia who is used to dealing with white men and women, who knows how they operate and they are not intimidated by them.
It is very much a form of ‘us’ vs. ‘you’ type of discourse and interaction. Often the Muzungos will ask a lot of questions to the knowledgeable, articulate local informants and will feed these information to the organisation they work for and then move forward from there.
This is exactly what I find myself doing at the Iris Guesthouse. It is nice to talk to knowledgeable, intelligent and friendly natives. It is good to have a hot shower, to have electricity and free access to internet in your room... However ,I have decided that it is not worth 70 US$ per night and I will now stay at the modest but clean accommodation offered by the sisters at the ‘Centre d’Accueil Saint Francois d’Assise‘, where Soeur Josephine stays when she comes to Kigali. I will only use the Iris Guesthouse to meet people.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Some stakeholders I have met
The Belgian Jesuit missionary
- In 1953 Père Jean-Claude Michel was told by Jesuit hierarchy: Go and teach in Africa’ Has been there since. Only returns to Belgium, his country of birth, for briefs occasional visits
- Has worked in many places in the Congo, in The Ivory Coast, in Burundi and is now in Rwanda, working as the coordinator of the recently opened Kigali Jesuit school (400 pupils)
- Speaks a few African languages but says his English is very poor
- Very intelligent, educated and insightful. Very aware of the context in which he works. Passionate about educating young people.
- Is in his seventies, has difficulties reading because of very pooe eyesight but has the drive and the energy of a twenty-year-old.
- Is the archetype of ‘a man with a mission’
I spoke and listened to him for a couple of hours... it felt like a few minutes. I would like to listen more to his incredible wealth of experience and wise pieces of advice.
He has asked me to come to his school a do a brief training session with his staff on the topic of bilingual education. It will be a great honour to do so...
The bright bureaucrat
- Richard Niyonkuru works for Mineduc (Ministry of Education)
- Has a MA in management from Cape Town University, in South Africa
- Is in charge of the ‘Vision 2020 murenge’ - one computer per child program: two poor schools per District will be chosen and everything will be done to bring 400-500 computers to the schools. If no electricity is available, solar panels will be installed. All this at the Government’s expenses. So far only 18 schools are already operational and only two have access to Internet. (I would like to visit one of them if possible when I come back to Kigali)
- Has a lot of information about what the government official policy offers
- Is matter of fact and rather cold in his presentation.
- Admits that he does not know much about teaching methodology
I am disappointed by the computer. It is cheap (181 US $), but has very limited use. It does not use work with Microsoft software but with a free system called Linux: I am not impressed by his presentation of what it offers. I think there are cheaper and better ways to bring computer and Internet access to Rugerero. I will look into such alternatives...
The local community worker
Cesumi Damian works for Adenya a local NGO dealing with health, educational issues.
- Is in charge of the educational section
- Knows everybody and everything in the area of schools and educational policies in the Nyaraguru District.
- His role is to help local teachers become more effective teachers.
- Is quite aware of the limitations of what he can achieve in the context of where he works
- He is a realist who has not become a defeatist.
- Is probably the person I have met so far who knows the most about what is going on in the educational world around Rugerero.
- After our meeting at the school, he gives me a lift on his motorbike back to my cottage. I did not feel like walking and this came as a bonus...
I hope we can meet again soon...
The Academic and his top guns
Dr André Mawingana is the acting vice-chancellor at the Kigali Institute of Education
- I have made an appointment to see him and find out about existing distance primary school training programmes
- When not sure about something, calls colleague: the head of the distance education programmes, the Head of Primary school education
- Finally admits that there is nothing done in the country to help primary school teachers being ‘trained on the job’
- Concedes that there are thousands and thousands of them who would love to study for a primary school teaching diploma while teaching in their rural, remote schools
- Their salary would then jump from 25 000 RWFr per month (45US $) to 90 000 (160US$) – which could explain why nothing has been done to raise the standard of primary school education
- The acting vice rector encourages the man in charge of primary school education, who is adamant that something needs to be done, to write a proposal about such a course to the Minister of Education.
We all agree: something needs to be done... Will it?
The businessman-entrepreneur
- Gerard Pieci speaks better English than French
- Runs a number of successful business, one of them in installing solar panels
- Used to be a teacher of maths and physics
- Now wears expensive suits that he would have never been able to afford, had he remained a teacher
- Was recommended to me by the Mayor of the Nyaraguru District
- His motto: ‘Bring light to Rwanda’
- Tells me it is easy: bring solar panels from China, store them in Kenya, bring them to Kigali and then to Rugerero Primary. Install them in a couple of days and ... there is light!
- Has an uncomplicated philosophy of life
- Will send me name of headmistress who recently had solar panels installed on her school roof
- For the average Rwandan, fixing a broken shelf is mission impossible, for Gerard, bringing solar energy to the remotest primary school is Pieci easy... child’s play...
I will check his credentials once again
Sunday, January 24, 2010
13 out of 64 Yeah...
Callixte, the assistant to the headmaster at Rugero, comes to see me whilst I am putting boxes of textbooks received from the Rwanda Government on shelves. He is quite excited... results from the national examination allowing children to go from primary education into secondary education have just arrived. ‘13 are in!!! It is very good, he adds. Some schools only managed one or two, some, even zero!’ Thirteen: a lucky number? I congratulate him first, and then pluck up my courage: ‘Out of how many? – ‘Out of 64’ he answers proudly. I make a quick calculation in my head: about 20% of children in the school complete their primary education successfully. He is happy with this percentage. I diplomatically congratulate him. In my head I can’t push away the thought: so, 80% fail. I already think ahead: ‘how about we set the goal to 50% minimum for the end of this coming academic year?’
‘Tell him he’s dreaming’ OR ‘Yes, we can’ ????
‘Tell him he’s dreaming’ OR ‘Yes, we can’ ????
A group of women
A circle of local women. What is the link connecting them? They meet here every Wednesday morning . They sit quietly and discus matters such as financial planning, marketing strategies and product diversification... Do not smile, this is partly true! The local Protestant church sponsors their basket making skills. Basket making is one of the few handicrafts left in the area. How does this scheme work? Who are their customers? I am not sure. I will need to find the supervisor of this project to find out. I feel relieved that such tiny form of micro business does exist in the area, firstly because it is a source of cash income in the area (a very rare phenomenon indeed) and secondly because it preserves some form of traditional lifestyle.
Later that night, I have a lengthy conversation with Papa Jacinth. Next Wednesday, I will go and have a look at their work. I tell him about the concept of ‘micro lending’ developed by a Bangladeshi economist (and Nobel Prize winner). I have read somewhere that there exists such lending financial services in Rwanda and, when I am in Kigali, I am hoping to meet people who know how to set it up. The principle is quite simple. Special banks lend very small amounts of money to poor people, (who are NOT eligible to any loan in ‘normal’ banks) so they can start a small business – not in nano technology or manufacturing white goods, since there is no electricity or roads in the area) but perhaps a small bakery, a small dairy... I am not sure what, at this stage., but I will investigate possibilities.
I have been inspired by this group of women...
Home make-over: wonderful TV viewing
A struggling mum lives in a dilapidated commission home with her six children. Life is tough, pleasures are few for her but her kids have one meal a day and all go to school. One day, she comes home from her weekly shopping at Coles and, 'Ô, miracle, Praise the Lord!’ her shack has been transformed into a palace... Unbeknownst to her, her remorseful ex-husband, who now lives in Ecuador, has organised for a TV team of workers to completely revamp her house while she is shopping. A blokey brick layer, an effeminate interior decorator and a Tom-boy-yet-sexy landscape architect have worked out a true 21st century mass media miracle. Walking home with her load of grocery shopping, she can’t believe what she sees while the TV crew, bouncing around the house, shows her what they have done and watch her cry with joy. Meanwhile her six children are doing their homework on their new Freedom Furniture desks.
In the next episode, perhaps her reformed husband will return from Ecuador and rejoin his ex in the brand new IKEA marital bed?
A similar miracle happened to me in my kitchen, today. Thank you Rwandan Television!
Visiting the gorillas
To day Sunday I did the tourist thing I wanted to do whilst in Rwanda: visit the Gorillas at the Virungas Volcanoes National Park and I wil write about it very soon...
Friday, January 22, 2010
Me and my blog
Me and my blog
I can’t believe that I am diarising segments of my life on a blog... but there are strong evidences that I am!
-‘Why did you do it?’ asks the out of breath detective, as he arrests ‘the Rugerero dude’, the culprit , after a long chase and a bit of a scuffle.
- Euh, don’t know...’, mumbles Rugerero dude, the now hand-cuffed blogger. All James Bond can understand are snippets of phrases, basic evidences of syntax and some vague intonation of justification. Transcribed below, is what James Bond writes in his small note book as further evidence of guilt to be exhibited at the ‘Blogger AX 127 639’ trial in Geneva, next April.
-‘ kindda like writn’ anyway, not much to do in spare time round here, taking photos fun, grasping attitude, I guess, double bite at life and living, what’s reality anyway, raising humanitarian awareness...
‘Stop these profanities', interrupts James, who had only received down to earth, basic training at the police academy. He has no idea what Rugerero dude is trying to say.
On April 1st, Rugerero dude is acquitted. He is not deemed mentally balanced and responsible enough for his comments. He is acquitted but his computer is confiscated and James is asked to look after it.
James is now secretly blogging his detective life under the pseudonym ‘the 007 dude...
'Dinner-time' ... Time and dinner
Dinner-time! Time and dinner
Baptiste is a good cook and I enjoy his food, even if we eat practically the same dish every day. He prepares huge quantities of food for each meal. Foe the last week, I have asked him: ‘Please, tomorrow, can we have dinner at 7:00PM instead of 8:00 or 8:30, and please, in the evening, I only want to eat a bit of rice and some vegetable, no meat. I try to express these two ideas as clearly, as emphatically, as simply as possible; I use sign language, I use simple words in French and in English; I even ask Mado to translate for him in Kinyarwanda.
Despite all this, dinner still comes around 8:00 – 8:15, the quantity of food has decreased slightly but there is still way too much on the table and I am not too good at resisting temptation...
So this last week, the hour between 7:00 and 8:00PM feels like an eternity and I can’t help feeling frustrated, angry at myself for getting upset about such an insignificant matter... I rationalise: ‘his relationship with time is different from mine, that’s all...’ but I still feel frustrated.
During dinner tonight, I look for another way to solve the cross-cultural communication problem. I say: ‘Tomorrow, night, please don’t cook any dinner for me, I will just eat some left-over’s from lunch at 7:00PM...’ He looks at me with wide eyes. He must think I am weird!
Baptiste is a good cook and I enjoy his food, even if we eat practically the same dish every day. He prepares huge quantities of food for each meal. Foe the last week, I have asked him: ‘Please, tomorrow, can we have dinner at 7:00PM instead of 8:00 or 8:30, and please, in the evening, I only want to eat a bit of rice and some vegetable, no meat. I try to express these two ideas as clearly, as emphatically, as simply as possible; I use sign language, I use simple words in French and in English; I even ask Mado to translate for him in Kinyarwanda.
Despite all this, dinner still comes around 8:00 – 8:15, the quantity of food has decreased slightly but there is still way too much on the table and I am not too good at resisting temptation...
So this last week, the hour between 7:00 and 8:00PM feels like an eternity and I can’t help feeling frustrated, angry at myself for getting upset about such an insignificant matter... I rationalise: ‘his relationship with time is different from mine, that’s all...’ but I still feel frustrated.
During dinner tonight, I look for another way to solve the cross-cultural communication problem. I say: ‘Tomorrow, night, please don’t cook any dinner for me, I will just eat some left-over’s from lunch at 7:00PM...’ He looks at me with wide eyes. He must think I am weird!
Teaching the comparative in Rwanda
Teaching the comparative in Rwanda for teachers
Today I attend an English class at Rugerero Primary. The focus is teaching the comparative and the superlative. The usual ‘Paul is taller than John but John is more intelligent than John’ is replaced by ‘In Rwanda, malaria kills more people than HIV-AIDS’. I do not have the statistics to validate this comparison but in the last couple of days Baptiste tells me that, back in Cyangugu, his mother has just been sent to hospital for treatment of malaria. Jean de Dieu’s son, d’Amour, spent the day at the local health centre to receive treatment against malaria. I call Jean de Dieu in the evening to find out how is so is going. He tells me that he will be fine. I do not look at the mosquitoes around here with the same attitude... I was told that there is no malaria around here , that it is more common in ciities like Kigali or Butare, but obviously the odd city mosquito likes to spend some time in the country once in a while. I am writing this from under my mosquito net, which I religiously spread over my bed every night. I practice my use if the comparative: ‘ I will be as mindful this Sunday as I was last Sunday and will take my weekly anti malaria pill’... As for HIV-AIDS, I saw a big sign in Kigali a few weeks ago saying: ‘HIV-AIDS, ignorance kills!’ . I did wonder if this was not too abstract for the average Rwandan...
Today I attend an English class at Rugerero Primary. The focus is teaching the comparative and the superlative. The usual ‘Paul is taller than John but John is more intelligent than John’ is replaced by ‘In Rwanda, malaria kills more people than HIV-AIDS’. I do not have the statistics to validate this comparison but in the last couple of days Baptiste tells me that, back in Cyangugu, his mother has just been sent to hospital for treatment of malaria. Jean de Dieu’s son, d’Amour, spent the day at the local health centre to receive treatment against malaria. I call Jean de Dieu in the evening to find out how is so is going. He tells me that he will be fine. I do not look at the mosquitoes around here with the same attitude... I was told that there is no malaria around here , that it is more common in ciities like Kigali or Butare, but obviously the odd city mosquito likes to spend some time in the country once in a while. I am writing this from under my mosquito net, which I religiously spread over my bed every night. I practice my use if the comparative: ‘ I will be as mindful this Sunday as I was last Sunday and will take my weekly anti malaria pill’... As for HIV-AIDS, I saw a big sign in Kigali a few weeks ago saying: ‘HIV-AIDS, ignorance kills!’ . I did wonder if this was not too abstract for the average Rwandan...
The headmistress and the young teacher
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She is sophisticated. Her beautiful hairstyle could be the one of an Afro-American top model. She went to university and completed her degree in education. He went straight from finishing high school to becoming a primary school teacher. She lives in the large city of Butare, more than 2 hours away on a very uncomfortable dirt road. Last year, she only came to school once in a while. He walks to school every day. He laughs heartily just about anything. She is very reserved, shy, self-conscious or properly self-restrained... (I cannot decide). I am not sure how they feel about each other. Does she look down at him as being an uneducated country boy? Is he scared of her. Does he feel an inferiority complex? One thing is clear: there is quite a cultural gap between them.
They are part of the human resources at Rugerero primary school and without them working closely together, feeling that they have a similar duty, the school will NOT improve.
A very important part of my job while I am here is to help them understand that they are One...
Simply beautiful. Beautifully simple
Simply beautiful! Beautifully simple!
A few snapshots of people I have come across on the narrow paths of the Thousand Hills. Some are on their way to work in the fields, some are already working there, some are following me, intrigued by my looks, by the colour of my skin... ‘Muzungo, muzungo!!! All of them exude an air of uncomplicated happiness. I greet them : Hey, Mwaramutse! Amakuru! When I can, I shake their hands. Their faces light up: beautiful smiles, laughers. Some connexions are made.
So far on these hills, I have not come across any negative vibes.
They probably envy my richness, I envy theirs...
A few snapshots of people I have come across on the narrow paths of the Thousand Hills. Some are on their way to work in the fields, some are already working there, some are following me, intrigued by my looks, by the colour of my skin... ‘Muzungo, muzungo!!! All of them exude an air of uncomplicated happiness. I greet them : Hey, Mwaramutse! Amakuru! When I can, I shake their hands. Their faces light up: beautiful smiles, laughers. Some connexions are made.
So far on these hills, I have not come across any negative vibes.
They probably envy my richness, I envy theirs...
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