They're here! The 2nd ever class of kids are here at Agahozo-Shalom (pictures of their welcoming soon) and while our jobs are to teach them, I'm already learning so much from their presence.
For one, I'm beginning to learn that creating a family often is more important to people here than rising above their current economic status. When the kids, many of whom came with only the clothes on their backs, were asked what they were most surprised about when they came to the village, it wasn't the nice houses, running water or full plates of food. Rather, it was that they now had a family, with brothers and sisters and parents and grandparent (each kid is placed in a house with a mother and counselor, and the rest of the village forms the extended family). In fact it was this concept, that Agahozo-Shalom is a family and not a boarding school, that was the main point of the grandmother (the head house mother)'s welcome speech yesterday. The house mothers and counselors, many of whom have also lost family, were visibly moved when they met their kids who would become their family.
Having a family is a defining and treasured thing in Rwanda. One of the first questions the girls asked me, along with my marital and education status, was whether I had both my parents. So far it seems that divorce is very rare - a family is so precious you cannot break it up.
So why is this the case? Well I'll likely learn more over the course of the year, but so far I have two guesses:
1) Here economic well-being and family often go hand in hand. If you have a family, they share everything with you, and so you will not be poor (or poorer than your family) if you have one. At Agahozo-Shalom, for example, anyone who needs clothes gets them, and that's that.
2) Families teach values and bring comfort, both of which are highly prized in this post-genocide country. As I've been told, values were hard to come by post-genocide (I can understand why), and it is the priority of many who want to heal the country to teach kids respect, love, loyalty and other values that were important in pre-colonial Rwanda. And who should be teaching values? Families. This explains my Wordle a little better. Additionally, so many people in Rwanda have experienced trauma that being alone is a negative option for a huge part of the population. Being in a family is critical for comfort and recovery.
At Agahozo-Shalom, while the houses are nice, the food is plenty and clothes are available, the focus is on providing family, not economic well-being, for the kids. Here development means giving families, something so unique and different from anything I learned about in my Development Studies major, and yet something that makes so much sense to someone who also values family above all else.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
A Less Important Issue
The last few days have been a whirlwind of cleaning and planning to get ready for the 2nd ever class of kids at Agahozo-Shalom. Since my future posts will likely be about the kids, my trips and post-conflict anti-genocide thoughts, I thought I'd use this post for some fluff.
We've been cleaning up a storm and I thought it might be worthwhile to solicit some advice re: cleaning, since its become clear I have a lot to learn. Since I've been here I've become an excellent mopper (see below as we all revel in my graduation from swiffer), but I'm still climbing the shower learning curve.
The showers here are quite nice, in that 1) they work, 2) they have showerheads and faucets and 3) I have one in my room! But a few things make showering a bit harder. First, the water's cold. In Ghana, I loved any kind of shower but here I get less dirty and much of the day it is chilly, not stiflingly Ghana hot, and a cold shower is just kind of freezing. Second, the drain isn't really at the lowest point in the shower, so any shower usually should involve me standing in some sort of bucket.
None of this is so bad, really, but it generally involves a choice. Using various bucket dumping/faucet running options I can choose two of the three for each shower:
1) Get all the soap out of my hair.
2) Don't flood my bathroom (or, ack, my room).
3) Don't freeze.
At this point choosing 1 and 3 make the most sense. but I'm still deciding. Any thoughts??
We've been cleaning up a storm and I thought it might be worthwhile to solicit some advice re: cleaning, since its become clear I have a lot to learn. Since I've been here I've become an excellent mopper (see below as we all revel in my graduation from swiffer), but I'm still climbing the shower learning curve.
The showers here are quite nice, in that 1) they work, 2) they have showerheads and faucets and 3) I have one in my room! But a few things make showering a bit harder. First, the water's cold. In Ghana, I loved any kind of shower but here I get less dirty and much of the day it is chilly, not stiflingly Ghana hot, and a cold shower is just kind of freezing. Second, the drain isn't really at the lowest point in the shower, so any shower usually should involve me standing in some sort of bucket.
None of this is so bad, really, but it generally involves a choice. Using various bucket dumping/faucet running options I can choose two of the three for each shower:
1) Get all the soap out of my hair.
2) Don't flood my bathroom (or, ack, my room).
3) Don't freeze.
At this point choosing 1 and 3 make the most sense. but I'm still deciding. Any thoughts??
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
And much cattle!
This blog has some updates from the original post:
Every conversation I have with a Rwandan coworker here involves a lot of learning. Sometimes it is just remembering how to communicate despite language barriers (speak slowly, remember Mme. Jensen's French lessons, smile). Sometimes it is a lesson about the flesh-destroying bugs that seem to be everywhere (great) - although I haven't completed the lesson since people do not seem to be adequately scared of them if they are as bad as I understand them to be. Sometimes I get insight into Rwanda's history and my new friends' lives as they not quite casually mention losing a parent, child or spouse in the genocide or living with siblings, rather than parents.
Yesterday, though, during my evening tea with my housemates (including the head house mother of the whole village!), I learned about something very important in Rwanda - cows. In Rwanda, cows are a sign of wealth, friendship, and self-sustainability. During colonial times, colonial rulers used the number of cows you owned to determine economic status, and thus, to determine if you were to be called Hutu or Tutsi. Nowadays, before marriage, the groom's family MUST give the bride's family a cow (or 8!). If they can't afford to give a cow, the debt can continue for generations! If you want to show your friendship for someone, you give them a cow. Or your cow's baby. Or they give you the baby of the cow that they received from you. Or something (remember, communication is still a process). OK, my friend Angeline has clarified that when you get a cow as a gift you should give the cow's baby back to the giver upon the baby's birth. In any case, if you give a cow to a friend, it is a huge sign of love and respect and loyalty. I don't think even giving a car in the US would be an equivalent sign of love.
Because cows provide milk, fertilizer for crops, and occasionally meat, President Kagame has instituted an effort to provide one cow for every family in Rwanda. It sounds not that dissimilar to Obama's goal of ending childhood hunger by 2015. Perhaps I can follow the cow distribution here and you guys keep tabs on domestic hunger and we can compare notes in 2011.
Doesn't this sound like something the food movement-ers would love? I know many synagogues are planting community gardens. Next, a cow for every synagogue? A ram for a FRESH rosh hashanah blast?
I'll end with a new version of a classic Beach Boys song I've been wanting to sing since I learned that a cow AND a bull for each family is the true dream, so they can procreate and pass cows on throughout the community. TWO COWS FOR EVERY FAM!
Moo!
Every conversation I have with a Rwandan coworker here involves a lot of learning. Sometimes it is just remembering how to communicate despite language barriers (speak slowly, remember Mme. Jensen's French lessons, smile). Sometimes it is a lesson about the flesh-destroying bugs that seem to be everywhere (great) - although I haven't completed the lesson since people do not seem to be adequately scared of them if they are as bad as I understand them to be. Sometimes I get insight into Rwanda's history and my new friends' lives as they not quite casually mention losing a parent, child or spouse in the genocide or living with siblings, rather than parents.
Yesterday, though, during my evening tea with my housemates (including the head house mother of the whole village!), I learned about something very important in Rwanda - cows. In Rwanda, cows are a sign of wealth, friendship, and self-sustainability. During colonial times, colonial rulers used the number of cows you owned to determine economic status, and thus, to determine if you were to be called Hutu or Tutsi. Nowadays, before marriage, the groom's family MUST give the bride's family a cow (or 8!). If they can't afford to give a cow, the debt can continue for generations! If you want to show your friendship for someone, you give them a cow. Or your cow's baby. Or they give you the baby of the cow that they received from you. Or something (remember, communication is still a process). OK, my friend Angeline has clarified that when you get a cow as a gift you should give the cow's baby back to the giver upon the baby's birth. In any case, if you give a cow to a friend, it is a huge sign of love and respect and loyalty. I don't think even giving a car in the US would be an equivalent sign of love.
Because cows provide milk, fertilizer for crops, and occasionally meat, President Kagame has instituted an effort to provide one cow for every family in Rwanda. It sounds not that dissimilar to Obama's goal of ending childhood hunger by 2015. Perhaps I can follow the cow distribution here and you guys keep tabs on domestic hunger and we can compare notes in 2011.
Doesn't this sound like something the food movement-ers would love? I know many synagogues are planting community gardens. Next, a cow for every synagogue? A ram for a FRESH rosh hashanah blast?
I'll end with a new version of a classic Beach Boys song I've been wanting to sing since I learned that a cow AND a bull for each family is the true dream, so they can procreate and pass cows on throughout the community. TWO COWS FOR EVERY FAM!
Moo!
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Orienting
In addition to moving in to my house here (woot!) and getting to know the routines of Agahozo-Shalom (rice, tea and learning Kinyarwanda constitute a big part of it), I'm in the midst of week 2 of 3 weeks of orientation. Week one was in New York with the JDC staff and now I spend my days in a classroom with the other volunteers, house mothers, counselors and other staff orienting ourselves to the ways of Agahozo-Shalom.
To give you a sense of what I'm doing for a good chunk of the day, I thought I'd manually create a word cloud by entering words that jumped out from my notes into Wordle. Check it:
Thanks, http://www.wordle.net/
Clearly I'm spending a lot of time on values, principles, and other ideas that will make this village feel like a supportive and empowering family. A little different from my last job where our orientation was mainly sessions on how a bill becomes a law and health care reform. Also, the fact that there are many cultures combining for this orientation makes it especially different. Everything is translated from English to Kinyarwanda or vice-versa, and at least once, ironically during the "Communication" session, from Hebrew to English to Kinyarwanda. Phew!
Today we went on a scavenger hunt to find important things around the village. A few photos from the farm segment of the tour:
Ange shows off the tomatoes.
Cabbage and the view from the farm
Solomon introduces us to the baby cows
It is fun getting to know and bond with the Rwandan staff. We all have the same mission, and yet such different backgrounds that I know I'll learn A LOT from working with them.
And now, my Kinyarwanda phrase of the day (well I also learned the word for salt, but it is really hard and has about 100 "u"s in it): Inzozi Nziza - Sweet Dreams!
To give you a sense of what I'm doing for a good chunk of the day, I thought I'd manually create a word cloud by entering words that jumped out from my notes into Wordle. Check it:
Thanks, http://www.wordle.net/
Clearly I'm spending a lot of time on values, principles, and other ideas that will make this village feel like a supportive and empowering family. A little different from my last job where our orientation was mainly sessions on how a bill becomes a law and health care reform. Also, the fact that there are many cultures combining for this orientation makes it especially different. Everything is translated from English to Kinyarwanda or vice-versa, and at least once, ironically during the "Communication" session, from Hebrew to English to Kinyarwanda. Phew!
Today we went on a scavenger hunt to find important things around the village. A few photos from the farm segment of the tour:
Ange shows off the tomatoes.
Cabbage and the view from the farm
Solomon introduces us to the baby cows
It is fun getting to know and bond with the Rwandan staff. We all have the same mission, and yet such different backgrounds that I know I'll learn A LOT from working with them.
And now, my Kinyarwanda phrase of the day (well I also learned the word for salt, but it is really hard and has about 100 "u"s in it): Inzozi Nziza - Sweet Dreams!
Monday, December 7, 2009
Why I'm Here
So a bit of a heavy post to start things off. I know I should blog about where I am (pictures of the cows, the pineapples, my lovely room to come) and get us all situated, but this post came to me first. I've been evaluating a lot why I'm here. I know to use my skills however I can to help, and I know to learn, but I was looking for something that could get me through the hard and frustrating times I am being warned of in my orientation (we're orienting for the next two weeks - more on that later).
Sunday, though, the experiences I had gave me at least one thing to remind myself why I'm here.
Sunday the JSC members were taken on our first trip to Kigali - both to purchase cell phones and kettles (now I have both. email if you want the number or if you want hot water), and to get an understanding of the neighborhoods, communities and worlds that the students come from.
In one neighborhood we were, as muzungus (foreigners) tend to be anywhere here, surrounded by little children. These kids were wearing significantly more tattered clothes than the happy kids that live in the community next to Agahozo-Shalom, though, and some carried bottles of glue with them, keeping them close to their noses. Between our conversations with older ones who knew some English, and speaking through my boss, we gathered that they were orphans (a population that remains especially large in Rwanda, due especially to the genocide and AIDS). They sniffed the glue when they were hungry and slept in the streets. The glue was clearly addictive in some way - when an older boy tried to take a young boys' glue away the young boy (who could not have been older than 10) tried to bite him.
The kids at Agahozo-Shalom also don't have parents (a small percent have a father only). They may have been like these street children, but somehow got enough education to reach level 9, where our school starts.
By being here with them, at the very least, I'll get to serve as an example of service for these kids. I'll get to show that it is valuable to serve the world and the community, and perhaps some of them will help others in their situation rise up to attend school like them. And I'll get to make them feel like they can do anything, just as I was taught as a child - a feeling they can also pass along.
Ok off to bed! In the morning I'll be back at staff orientation with all the Rwandan staff, and we'll talk about Tikkun Olam (repairing the world) and Tikkun HaLev (repairing the heart), two goals for the kids that are frequently discussed by all the staff.
Sunday, though, the experiences I had gave me at least one thing to remind myself why I'm here.
Sunday the JSC members were taken on our first trip to Kigali - both to purchase cell phones and kettles (now I have both. email if you want the number or if you want hot water), and to get an understanding of the neighborhoods, communities and worlds that the students come from.
In one neighborhood we were, as muzungus (foreigners) tend to be anywhere here, surrounded by little children. These kids were wearing significantly more tattered clothes than the happy kids that live in the community next to Agahozo-Shalom, though, and some carried bottles of glue with them, keeping them close to their noses. Between our conversations with older ones who knew some English, and speaking through my boss, we gathered that they were orphans (a population that remains especially large in Rwanda, due especially to the genocide and AIDS). They sniffed the glue when they were hungry and slept in the streets. The glue was clearly addictive in some way - when an older boy tried to take a young boys' glue away the young boy (who could not have been older than 10) tried to bite him.
The kids at Agahozo-Shalom also don't have parents (a small percent have a father only). They may have been like these street children, but somehow got enough education to reach level 9, where our school starts.
By being here with them, at the very least, I'll get to serve as an example of service for these kids. I'll get to show that it is valuable to serve the world and the community, and perhaps some of them will help others in their situation rise up to attend school like them. And I'll get to make them feel like they can do anything, just as I was taught as a child - a feeling they can also pass along.
Ok off to bed! In the morning I'll be back at staff orientation with all the Rwandan staff, and we'll talk about Tikkun Olam (repairing the world) and Tikkun HaLev (repairing the heart), two goals for the kids that are frequently discussed by all the staff.
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