Entertaining kids during recess

One of the things I’ve definitely come to appreciate in our 3 weeks here is the art of handling young children. I’ve gained a tremendous amount of respect for friends of mine that handle children every day.  The amount of energy we expend in the 4 hours with the kids is absolutely ridiculous. When we get home for lunch, it’s not uncommon for Dal or I to catch a nap to recharge. These kids are beautiful sponges who crave constant attention but have an attention-span that rivals my own.  We’ve actually come up with some survival tactics while handling the kids during recess to ensure we’re not overwhelmed. Here’s an evaluation of them :  

1)   Ring Around the Rosey

Pros:  Great for boys and girls and can be played with 3 or 30 kids.

Cons: The we-all-fall-down part can be dangerous as kids either fall on me..or I fall on them. No one wins.

2)     Red Rover

Pros: Encourages teamwork and bonding and competition.

Cons: Given the history in Rwanda and the several border wars with the Democratic Republic of Congo (Zaire), games that prevent children from breaking through a barrier may not be a good idea.

3)      Soccer

Pros: I can dominate them and teach them to do celebratory dances.

Cons: Me teaching African kids to dance ? They may as well teach me to play hockey.

4)      Conga Line

Pro : Gets them to cooperate by putting their arms on the shoulders of the kid in front of them

Con : Massive pileups due to one or multiple kids not keeping pace. The pileups are lots fun to watch…but I always feel guilty when someone starts crying.

5)      Sit down and pretend it’s quiet time

Pros : They’ll copy us and sit in silence….. for about 3.2 seconds.

Cons : A revolt after 3.2 seconds consisting of jumping, screaming and snot flying everywhere.

6)      Kick a ball far and let them retreat it

Pros : I get to dropkick a soccer ball far and let the kid go fetch his ball. He/she are thrilled at how high I kick it. And it’s like an organized line as they all wait for me to kick their ball

Cons : Potential groin injury. Yes…on the third day here, I slightly tweaked my groin doing this.

Given our mutual short attention span, I think we’ll have to continue with the multi-faceted approach to entertain and exhaust them during their playtime.

On a separate note, I’d like to thank all my teachers from KG to Grade 8. I truly admire those who dedicate their days to educating young people and giving them the tools to be successful in life. 

From St Alphonsus in Peterborough : Mrs Ayotte (KG), Mrs Courneyea (Gr 1 and Gr 2), Mrs Morris (Gr3), Mr Purdue (Gr 4), Miss Heffernan (Gr 5), Mr Malloy (Gr 6). From St Anne’s in Peterborough : M. Normand (Gr 6) et Mlle Lawson (Gr 7&8).

- DP

4 Similiarities between Rwanda and N. America

1)  Quality of Repairs – Every summer, we do a family trip to Quebec, and every year without fail we experience construction on Highway 20 or 40 near Montreal. Often in the same exact spots as the year before.  The accepted local theory is that the contractors the Quebec government employ do enough of a job to demonstrate the required improvement but a shabby-enough job that there’s guaranteed work to be had for the next summer. At our guesthouse in Rwanda, we have two bathrooms. For the 3 weeks we’ve been here, both toilets have been functioning for about 50% of the time. And neither are very complex toilets. The plumber has been here several times and keeps installing new parts, removing old ones and trying new techniques. And he keeps coming back. I’m pretty sure he’s made his way to the top 3 of Teste’s speed-dial.

2)  Multitasking –In North America, many pride themselves on their ability to multi-task and parallel process even though it’s been scientifically proven that it’s much more productive in the long-run to complete one task before moving to the next. I, for one, am constantly multi-tasking, often to the chagrin of my wife and co-workers with about 20 windows open on my laptop while talking on my blackberry.  In Rwanda, mothers take multi-tasking to another level, especially those with young children. Breast-feeding in public is accepted here. I’ve seen women breast-feeding while
·         Learning English – Yes. I’ve tried to teach a woman to read while her boob was out
·         Accepting a goat – we actually have a photo of a woman accepting her goat from us while her child was accepting her milk
·         Begging – we haven’t seen many beggars here but she was one that was hard to ignore
·         Digging in the field – many village women here dig in the fields as their source of income and last week one woman did her job while lying on her side and breast-feeding her child. She used one arm to stabilize her child and her second arm to extract weeds. A truly impressive performance.

3)  Inexplicable love of James Taylor by people that I admire: My first encounter with James Taylor came when I lived in Boston and discovered that my boss at iBasis, Brian, was a huge fan. Brian is an amazing guy, calm but has a great energy about him, has a great family, is a big sports fan, is well-traveled and very likable. And he was in his mid-30’s when I worked for him. So you’ll understand why I simply can’t wrap my head around his fascination with such a drab, monotone performer whose songs are completely interchangeable. Fast forward 10 years. As we’re driving to the goat market today, Teste puts in a tape and James Taylor comes on. I chuckle to myself thinking it’s a mixed tape that’s not exactly starting off with a bang. But then song after song of frivolous folksy foolishness drone through the car speakers and I come to the chilling realization that Teste is also a James Taylor fan. I looked at him with a pained look, but his head was swaying and I didn’t have the heart to tell our lead goat negotiator that he had terrible taste in music.

4) Security : As Canadians, we’re privileged to have many rights, one of which is a secure place to live. The furor around the violence incurred during the recent G20 summit in Toronto helped remind us how lucky we are to have the comfort of security.  We don’t have a lot of enemies as peacekeeping is part of our ethos. In general our police and political leaders are not known to be corrupt and we can carry on with law-abiding lives without being interfered with. This is not the case in many African countries, as those responsible for maintaining civil safety and security are the same ones that compromise it. Many people here have told me harrowing stories about Nairobi (fondly known as Nai-robbery) and Democratic Republic of Congo (Zaire). One of the reasons Cathy (the founder of the preschool) loves it in Rwanda is because of this security. She’s free to do what she wants and help with development here without having to worry about kickbacks, random violence or threats. This security is what earned President Kagame close to 95% popularity in recent elections.  Rwandans experienced a long period with an absence of security as recently as 13 years ago, but have rebounded exceptionally well and progressed past their pre-genocide peaks in many facets due to the state of stability they currently enjoy.

4 Differences between Rwanda and N. America

1)      Time –  At 2pm on Monday and Thursdays, we offer English classes to the local adults. At 2:05pm, there are literally no more than 4 adults in the classroom. By 2:30, there are around 25 willing pupils. This happens EVERY Monday and Thursday. I asked Cathy about this phenomenon and she knowingly nodded and said “Look at their wrists”. No watches. No clocks in the house either. Many of them tell time using the sun (Cosmo Kramer style), by watching their neighbours, by when their kids come home from school or by looking for our vehicle to come to school. Some have a mobile phone and use that as their main clock, but in general, time is event-trigger based here.

2)      Speed of Internet – I’ll never complain about Rogers Internet ever again.  The internet here reminds me of the dial-up days of 1996. Connecting to the ISP server was never guaranteed, and you could take a nice shower in between trying to connect to different websites. In our case, we spend a lot of time at Ste Anne’s Hotel patio which is a bar that’s about a 10 minute walk away from the house and offers free WiFi for patrons. So we consume a lot of Fanta and Primus beer while waiting for Facebook or Hotmail to load up.

3)      PDA’s between male and female – I’m not huge with public displays of affection (PDAs) as Dal will attest to. I'm probably average for a North American male. In Rwanda, I’m like the emotional lovechild of Michael Buble and Casanova. There is very little hand-holding or arm-around-the-shoulder happening here between male and female. We haven’t seen any public kissing yet. However, it’s common for a pair of men to be holding hands while walking on the street and it’s not indicative of their sexual orientation, but rather a sign of friendship. Basically I’ve had a magnet put to my gay-dar, as evidenced by Dal’s last post about our night out on the town.

4)      Operational Efficiency – In North America, decisions in the workplace are often aimed at increasing operational efficiency. More output in less time with fewer resources. Consultants are paid gross sums of money to design and implement process maps while innovation and technology spur newer, better and faster ways of doing things.  In Rwanda, efficiency doesn’t appear to the goal. As we walk to school, we’ll pass countless women carry sacks of potatoes or rocks on their head. We see men sitting at the side of the road crushing rocks with other rocks with the goal to eventually create bricks. When we get to the market to pick up produce, one of the local boys will approach us as we park and ask for a ‘job’. We’ll pay him 100 francs ($0.20) to carry our bags as we navigate the market. At the guesthouse, there are two employees that cook our meals, do our laundry and keep the place clean. At the school, a man is employed as bathroom monitor to ensure that the kids are washing their hands and that they’ve cleaned up after themselves. For the first couple of weeks, my head was spinning with ideas of how to make things more efficient. But as more and more people approach me for a job, there’s the unwavering reality that Rwanda is still an impoverished country with many untrained adults that need to provide for their families. Rwanda is in that early stage of the transition from an unskilled workforce to a skilled one. The government prioritizes education which gives promise for this transition, but it will take time and patience and for now we’ll have to accept the realities.

- DP

A Night Out in Rwanda

Having been in Rwanda for a few weeks, the visitors were restless for some night time shenanigans. The ever-resourceful Ron offered up an option – we could check out Rwandan ‘Karaoke’ and then hit up the local club. We were amenable to this idea and resolved to all take afternoon naps that Friday, so we’d have a chance of staying up past our usual bed-time here, which is about 8pm.

Come 8pm Friday night and the first stop was Tequila – the karaoke bar. We paid our cover of 1000 Rwandan francs (roughly 2 dollars) and headed straight to the bar. The rest of the group are beer drinkers, but I personally can’t stomach the stuff. So I perused the bar and asked for the one thing I was familiar with – a shot of Johnny Walker Red, no ice please (the tap water here is not a friend to my north American tummy). The bar tender brought out a wine glass and filled it almost to the top with Whiskey. Well – who says I can’t LOOK like a lady while drinking neat whiskey. I happily took my glass into the karaoke section while the rest of the group looked in disbelief as the only non-drinker in the group committed to hard alcohol. ‘You want some coke at least?’ Devon asked.’No thanks’ I responded ’I really don’t want to have to pee here’.  David said my dad would be proud.

Rwandan karaoke…is unlike any karaoke I have seen. It essentially consists of lip-synching to music while dancing on stage with a mic. There was a young lady on stage when we arrived, gyrating rather provocatively to Rihanna’s ‘Rude Boy’. She returned for several encore performances, her clothes getting skimpier and skimpier each time. Nudity is illegal so thankfully we were spared, but she certainly didn’t leave much to the imagination. Next up was a local young man, who thought it might be fun to pull David up on stage, have him do a few dance movements of his own, and then proceeded to do the ‘worm’ under David’s legs to emerge on the other side. Much fun. For me. The locals were beside themselves to see a Muzungu be such a good sport.

Then our good friend Ron, also known as ‘Acidic’ – went up on stage and lip synched to one of his own recorded songs – and we dutifully stood up, clapped, cheered and made excellent groupies . Ron has written and recorded a few excellent songs and it was great to see him up there.

 An hour later, we got a bit fed up and proceeded to the Silverback club. Spirits were high, and mine especially has been consumed throughly.

Highlights of the club include the following:

1.       Dal having to rescue David, not once, but twice, from the advances of a local man who simply wanted to dance with him, hold hands and twirl him around. 

2.       Steve keeping good to his pledge to dance with the ‘ugliest chick in the room’

3.       Dal being almost knocked off her feet when she was hit by a chinese man who was being ‘twirled’ across the room by the same local who was previously trying to dance with David.

4.       Devon and Dal reassuring the club bouncer that he was indeed a ‘sexy boy’. This was done by pointing at his rather expansive pecs and giving him 4 thumbs up. His words to us, and I quote ‘I want to be a sexy boy’.

5.       Random playing of  ‘Walk of Life’ by the Dire Straits and the crazy realization that all the Rwandans in the room KNEW and song and LOVED it.

Our night out was so much fun, made more so by the fact that the locals are welcoming, friendly and completely non-aggressive. In addition, most of the local men here think I’m twelve years old, so I typically get left alone. Rwandan women tend to look quite mature, and with my slight stature, baby face and lack of offspring, most guess I’m in my early teens. Good for me.

- Dal

Goat Update - 80 delivered, 75 to go

Since our first goat post, we have made 3 more trips to the goat market and picked up 20 each time resulting in a total of 80 goats distributed. We have 75 left to distribute. We have photos of each goat with a sign of their owner and the goat name which we'll email once we're in Asia since the connection will be much faster. However, for your entertainment,  here are some random goat adventures

·         After the school parade, we headed off with Teste to the goat market. Teste insisted on wearing his pink parade crown to the goat market, and didn’t heed our concern that he might be ripped off because he looked like royalty. (heh heh heh) Oddly enough it might have worked in his favour – he was able to get some great deals.

·         It’s not uncommon while at the goat market for children to come up to us and just stare at us. There’s absolutely nothing uncomfortable about it since we understand they’re simply fascinated by our muzungu-ness. Some of them want to practice their English so we have the basic conversations of “Hello, how are you, what is your name, how old are you, where are you from” which never tire us since it’s always conducted with plenty of smiles.

·         This past Friday, one of the goat vendors was wearing a Peterborough Lakers Lacrosse t-shirt. Dave was particularly thrilled about this as Peterborough is his hometown! We explained to the vendor the fortuitous coincidence and implored he should give us a great price for his goat. He countered that we should pay him even more because of the connection. We settled for an average price with him.

·         After purchasing the 20 goats and waiting for the truck to transport it back to the school, a boy walked by holding a live chicken. Teste turned to me with a grin and offered “Should we have chicken for dinner?”. Dal’s been craving chicken so I quickly agreed, and 2500 Rwanda Francs later (about $5 CDN), I had the live chicken cradled in my right arm.  It’s feet/wings were tied together to prevent it flying away. We then sent a boy into the market to buy 2 more chickens so that we could have a nice feast at home as the 3 Brit volunteers were leaving that night. As I held the chicken, I wondered if I was going to undergo a personal awakening and realize that this live chicken I held in my arms was one of God’s creations that deserved a better fate and that I could live off the land and be content as a vegetarian. Nope..didn’t happen. It really was finger lickin’ good.

The Parade

A couple of weeks ago, Cathy announced the school would have its first ever parade. This announcement was met with blank stares from the children and teachers alike, as no one had seen a parade before and didn’t actually know what one was. It was up to us to show them what it was all about.

The volunteers spent the next couple of days in school putting together parade paraphernalia with the children. This included brilliantly colours crowns made with craft paper and crayons, pipe cleaners, glitter and feathers, as well as ‘wands’ mounted on sticks that the kids could carry in their hands. Some of the kids even got craft paper necklaces, making some of them look real pimped out in a crown, necklace and wand.

We took turns with each class, bringing a group of about 8 kids out at a time, trying to get them hyped up about making their crowns. The older kids caught on immediately, while the babies had no concept of what was going on and ended up either with the nicest crowns (made by the oh so helpful volunteers themselves) or the least adorned crowns, because let’s face it, the little ones simply didn’t care much at that point.  

In addition to props, we taught the children to sing of ‘WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU’ with foot stomps, and ‘Na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye’ which we all figured were appropriate parade songs. In addition to ‘When the saints go marching in’ which they know from previous teaching.

For We Will Rock You, we were reminded by Dave's sister that lyrics like "You've got blood on your face, you big disgrace" are probably not appropriate for kids emerging from a war-ravaged country. Noted. We stuck to the chorus.

As we got closer to the day of the parade, we realized we were running short on items…what better way to make up for lost time than by getting the adult English class involved! After all, most of them had kids who would be in the parade and would be happy to help…we hoped. We divided the adult class up into 4 stations – this way 2 stations would be dedicated to arts and crafts and 2 would be dedicated to the actual teaching of English – and this way every student would get what they originally came for, and then some.

We did not anticipate the huge rush of excitement at being able to do the arts and crafts. I suppose perhaps the parents have such little time to be creative in day to day life, that the opportunity to be silly with crowns and pipe cleaners and glitter glue was a welcome change from the routine of day to day life. Most notable was Papa Sarah. Papa Sarah is so called because he is the ‘Papa of Sarah ‘ who is the oldest of his triplet girls. Papa Sarah also has 5 other children, so we can’t figure why he’s named for Sarah, but who are we to argue ?

Papa Sarah is the caretaker at the school. At over 6 feet tall, and the father of 8, he is one of the most gentle men I have ever come across – and he has the most brilliant smile. Papa Sarah doesn’t attend the English classes, but we called him into the arts and crafts station to see if he might have any interest. I was a bit concerned he might think it all very childish and silly…but once he saw what was going on, wow did that man go to town! I have never seen a grown man so enthralled by feathers and pipe cleaners before – it was amazing to see the dedication he put into each of the crowns he made, and the glow of pride as he handed in each one of his crowns. His smile alone would be enough to make your day.

Parade day dawned in a rush of excitement. The best student was chosen – a boy called Fils who secured a 97% score in his exams – and he was made the leader of the parade. As a special reward, Fils was gifted an extremely smart suit than had been donated by a kind soul back in Toronto. It fit him fairly well – he will grow into it – and we got a special thank you from his mum, which we weren’t expecting.

And off we went with the singing of children, the blowing of whistles, the waving of balloons, the banging of tambourines, the ting-ting of a glockenspiel and somewhere I swear I heard cowbell. I kept thinking ‘We need more cowbell’. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a slightly teary Cathy who claimed she was crying because the kids were so darn cute. I think - since she is the woman who made this all possible – it would be really hard to not get emotional seeing all these beautiful, well fed, well adjusted children making their way down the street, the pride and envy of the neighbourhood.

Parents, neighbours and passerbys lined up along the side to watch and cheer them on. And when we arrived back, we sat the kids down in a circle, gave them some lunch and watched them wolf it down. We keep expecting someone to throw up due to all the excitement, but it hasn’t happened yet-  very impressive.

There was some bread left over, and it was handed out to the parents who came to the school to watch the parade. A piece was given to Papa Ange (yes, the Papa of Ange who attends the school). I saw him break it into half, give one half to Ange, some to her friends sitting with her, and then he ate the rest himself.

That’s love. And this place seems full of it. 

- Dal

Adult Class making crowns

Papa Sarah

Cathy sheds a tear of joy

WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU

NAH NAH NAH, HEY HEY HEY
GOOOOD-BYE

Dal, David and Fils

Ron riling up the kids

A Trip to the Genocide Memorial in Kigali, Rwanda

Last Wednesday, the group (Cathy and Teste and us 8 volunteers) headed to Kigali for the day. It was a 2 hour drive along a windy road that took us up and down many of Rwanda’s famous hills (Rwanda is often known the Land of a Thousand Hills...in fact the hotel in Hotel Rwanda is called the Hotel Mille Collines).  The main purpose of trip to the capital was to see the Genocide Memorial Museum.

The Genocide Memorial had a profound effect on the way we see Rwandans. The short summary of the genocide is that for years leading up to 1994, there had been tensions (originally spurred by the Belgians and French and later exacerbated by the Rwandan government and an extremist militia group) between the Hutus (85% of the population) and Tutsis (15%). In 1994, these tensions escalated to the point where the mandate was to rid the country of all Tutsi (approximately 1.2M people). Think about that for a second. Imagine if the Ontario gov’t had a mandate to eliminate 15% of the population. Basically, eliminate a large minority such as the Chinese or Indians. For several months in 1994, this was status quo in Rwanda. Tutsis were hunted and killed as were moderate Hutus that protected Tutsis. Families were divided, friends turned against one another and mob mentality ensued. UN General Romeo D’Allaire tried to get help from the UN to stop the massacres but his request was denied, likely due to Rwanda not being oil-rich, diamond-rich or a strategically situated country.

When the terror finally stopped, over 1 million people had died and scores more were savagely injured. The UN and other political powers realized the extent of the carnage that happened under their noses and shame-laden public apologies were put forth.

Fast forward to 2010. A mere 16 years later, the country has come to terms with it’s history and is making its way along the road of recovery to the road of prosperity. According to many, recently re-elected president Paul Kagame, has much to do with this as he’s rallied his people to create a safe country that doesn’t have the same levels of corruption that other African countries are notorious for. His popularity is well over 90% due to his policies and the effective implementation.

Ok..enough of the history lesson. How did seeing the Memorial change our views? One of the last exhibits was dedicated to the children of the genocide. There was a banner “I didn’t choose to be an orphan” that hit me hard. Orphanhood was painfully thrust upon so many children in 1994..and some of these children are the ones that we see on Saturday (the street kids) or they’re the young parents of some of kids who are now at our pre-school. These are children that were likely taught no real life skills and were now left to fend for themselves and their brothers and sisters. When we walk to school, we often pass those who are missing one or more limbs. It’s possible that many of these limbs were lost during the butchering of 1994.

Rwandans have every right to be jaded and mistrustful..but they’re not. They are happy, welcoming people that have been incredibly friendly. I love walking the 4 Km to school and exchanging waves, smiles and the “muaramuzse” (good morning) greeting with almost 50% of the adults and 100% of the children we pass. And they’re not patronizing me by being nice to my face and then bad-mouthing the muzungu (foreigner) once out of earshot.  It’s Rwandan custom to not say bad things about people they don’t know.  They’re genuinely happy to see foreigners in their country and love the novelty of our skin colour, clothes and language.

In an upcoming post, I’ll try to explain why I’ve become infatuated with this country, but it should be obvious that the warmth of the people top the list.



Fountain of Hope



Mass Graves at the Genocide Memorial



View of many of Rwanda's rolling hills

A Sunday at Lake Kivu

Last weekend, the entire household (Cathy, Teste, Ron and the 8 volunteers) went on a drive to the beach at Lake Kivu, as a general treat. Enroute, we stopped to admire a tea plantation, when a little local boy went up to Dave and said ‘Hindustani?’. When Dave replied affirmative, the boy then said ‘Hritik Roshan’.


To the uninitiated, Hritik Roshan is THE hottest Bollywood leading man at the moment. Dave said to him ‘Come speak to my wife’ at which point I engaged in an excited broken-English convo with a Rwandan boy that went something along the lines of ‘You like Hritik Roshan? Oooh I do too!!!’. A connection was made, pictures were taken and we drove off to happy waves from the children, as per usual. Apparently Rwandans love Bollywood and have a fondness for Indians, as the Indians in Rwanda tend to be honest business people who come from solid families. Rwandans are big on family, as are most Africans, I suppose.

Just before we arrived, we did a quick drive over to the border between Rwanda and the Congo, gaped as is customary for tourists (photos aren’t allowed) and then drove to the beach at Lake Kivu. I must admit a part of me was slightly chilled at the thought of being so close to an area of such horrific conflict. Apparently, day trips across the border are possible but we were absolutely not interested, as we had heard stories of other tourists being harassed and being put in compromising situations (i.e robbed of all belongings and left in their undies by the side of the road). No thank you.

Being at Lake Kivu felt very much like being at a lake in Canada. The water was cool and very clean, and the beach slowly but surely got very busy with locals coming by to enjoy their weekend. Beer and brochettes (goat kebabs) were on offer for food, while a DJ nearby blasted out some pretty groovy reggae and hip hop tunes with some Bollywood music thrown in for good measure. Again we experience the Rwandan fascination with all things Bollywood

The girls in the group started a game of Frisbee, to be joined by some of the locals who had never played Frisbee before. I was thrilled to not be the worst player on the team. A lovely Rwandan lady in a dress skirt and dress shirt was by far the most uncoordinated – I looked like an athlete in my prime by comparison. You only get that lucky once every so often in life.

Dave and the boys played soccer with Toufiq, the son of our driver who took us to Lake Kivu, and another boy with down’s syndrome who works at the beach, and who was a pretty remarkable soccer player. Toufiq on the other hand, had so much rhythm and style, I wanted to bring him back to Canada with me, only so I could show off his skills at dance parties. And he’s one of the sweetest kids I’ve ever met . The kids here are absolutely phenomenal – I think I’ve been spoiled and getting adjusted to regular North American kids when we get back will be a challenge.

The day ended with much beer, soccer, brochettes, Frisbee, laughs and just general fun. As Cathy said as she looked us over with beers in hand ‘look – here are my extremely hard working volunteers…’

- Dal

Stylin'

The group

Congo in the background

Soccer Boys

<>

Fetch me a beer, kid.

Cathy, Teste, the volunteers and random Canadians

The First Batch of Goats

“If I had told you 6 months ago that we’d be in a beaten-down flat-bed pickup truck driving to a goat market in Ruhengeri, Rwanda, what would you have said ?”.
“YOU CRAZY !”

Yet here we were. It was 10am and Teste (Cathy’s husband) and us were in a rented truck on the way to the goat market to pick up 20 goats to distribute to needy families in the province. We set the limit at 20 for the first visit, as buying, loading, offloading and containing more than 20 goats at a time might be a bit of a larger challenge than we're cut out for.

The morning had gotten off to a rather exciting start as we had a big feast at the school thanks to a contribution of $600 US from an Australian whom had volunteered with Cathy before (and had traded emails with me about PREFER when I was doing my research). The feast consisted of apple juice, rice pilao and a goat curry. The goat was a male goat from the garden in the back of the school which had been used to impregnate many of the female goats that had been given to needy families previously. This goat is now a personal hero of Dave's as it's given it's life so that many others could live....and was a total stud in his lifetime. The feast was enjoyed by all the children and cost only about $150 meaning there's money for 3 more !

Later that day, we went to the to the goat market to pick up our first 20 goats for distribution. Like most things here, it's controlled chaos. As we parked our truck, we were quickly swarmed by goat vendors who were pleased to hear that we needed 20 of their finest. The process was as follows :
* Once they figured out the 'muzungus' couldn't speak Kinyawranda, most of the vendors directed their attention to Teste
* Teste began negotiating with the vendors for their goat..he would make the goat turn around to confirm it was female and then sized it up with his eyes
* Dave would pat the back of the goat because his friend Elson advised that some vendors would overfeed their goats prior to purchase hoping to secure a better price; however looking for a solid wide back was an indicator of a healthy female. Did he know what he was feeling for ? No..not really
* After about 2 minutes we were able to secure a pen and paper for Teste where he recorded the vendors name and the negotiated amount for the specific goat
* Each selected goat was given to a guy to hold and Dal supervised him to make sure the count was correct (Dal valiantly tried to hold some goats herself but was quickly out-weighed at goat number 5)
* After all 20 goats were selected, Teste read out the name of each vendor one-by-one and Dave paid him the negotiatied amount
* We then loaded the goats onto the back of the truck and headed for the school and unloaded the goats and tied them to the school fence around noon. Dave road in the back with the goats.
 At 3pm, the selected families would meet us on the school grounds to receive their goat

Before leaving the school for lunch, one woman, who had walked 20km to get to the school, arrived at the grounds. When told that she would have to wait until 3pm to get her goat, she smiled and took a seat on the ground with her baby.

At 3pm we came back to the school to find 17 of the 20 families present. With us was Augustin, the govt official who provides the names of these needy families, and ensures the right people are getting their goats. The crowd consisted mostly of the mamas in each family, some of them with their little ones securely tied to their backs. They let Teste know they wanted to come up and say 'hello' to us.

Hello consisted of several hearty thumps on the back - these African women are STRONG! We handed out goats one by one - it was clear to see how happy and grateful they all were, thanking us profusely. We made sure to let them know the names of the people in Canada who had purchased their goat for them, as well as the goats names. We took a photo with person, their goat and a piece of paper with the donor and the goat name which we'll email to all of the donors when we have a faster internet connection !

Once done, they strutted off proudly - Teste told us that this goat would make a massive difference in their lives, and they would likely walk by all the homes in their villages to show everyone their new possession. In fact, one of the mamas there has her 'adopted' son at the PREFER school (by adopted, I mean the little guy was left on the ground by his mum who took off with a solider. Another woman in the community took him in, in spite of being quite poor herself)

Goat day was totally fabulous - and we get to do it all again a few times, as we get through all the goats on our list. Next time Dal will NOT pose for pictures with random African men who want to hold her hand. 

Click on the photos below to enlarge.

First Impressions

Rwanda isn’t much like we thought it would be. From the exceptionally polite immigrations officials, to the busy streets of Kigali that remind us of Mumbai (only cleaner), we’ve been pleasantly surprised for most of the way.

Kigali is considered pretty safe – underscored by the many armed security guards that unobtrusively walk the streets to ensure things stay that way. In Ruhengeri where we are, we have a group of men who patrol the neighbourhood at night – one of their additional chores is to ensure neighbourhood kids don’t throw stones over the fence to get a reaction out of Max, the dog at the house we live in.

That brings us to Max. Apparently Rwandans don’t do well with pets – and a dog or cat on the street is likely to get stoned mercilessly by children. Max stays within the confines of the compound, which doesn’t stop the kids from throwing stones over the fence to torment him. Which is why we were surprised and impressed when the Imam in the mosque beside the house included Max in his sermon one day. ‘You all come here and pray’ he said ‘and then you go home and throw stones at the dog. Stop throwing stones at the dog’. Possibly one of the most relevant and timely sermons I’ve heard in a long time.

Other surprises include:

1. The lack of mosquitos thus far. It’s been 6 days and I have one bite to show for it and we haven’t event been using our net all the time while we sleep

2. The food – we came here expecting veggies and rice and have eaten all sorts of yumminess, including meat, cooked at Cathy’s house. We had planned to lose some weight in Rwanda – I don’t think that’s going to happen

3. The general feeling of safety while walking through the street of Ruhengeri. People are nice.

4. The availability of Ribena, a blackcurrent cordial I used to drink as a kid in Dubai – it’s really helped me down water much better during our stay.

5. Being woken up 3 times each night by the Imam beside the house as he says his Ramadan prayers on the loudspeaker…and then sometimes lectures his congregation at 2 in the morning.
So far so good.

Dal

Soccer Day in Ruhengeri

Soccer Day in Ruhengeri


As we’ve mentioned before, Rwanda has an extremely young population. This is partially explained by the genocide which killed many parents as well as the exorbitant number of babies born as a result of the mass rapes. Many of these children that don’t have parents wind up living on the streets. On Saturday, we met about 120 of these children

A few months ago, Cathy introduced a Saturday morning program to give these children some hope. Using a school a short walk away as a meeting point, she distributes bread, the sorghum/corn mixture and a bar of soap. The group, mainly boys, typically come a bit earlier in anticipation of Cathy’s arrival and pass the time by playing soccer on the rocky grounds.

We arrived at about 9am and were greeted by the group, consisting mainly of teenagers although not as affectionately as with the pre-schoolers. Cathy set up shop in a classroom with Dal and Brianne and a few of the older children helping make the liquid mixture and cutting the bread into thirds. Batches of 10 kids at a time were brought into the classroom to receive their portions and they sat at their desks and consumed their meals. Some of the other children waited against the wall to receive their invite into the classroom. Most of the older children however were engaged in a game of soccer. Ron, Cathy’s most trusted helper, served as referee and distributed pinnies to help identify teams. Ron gave me one of the pinnies and I was on the green/yellow team. As none of the kids spoke English aside from ‘Hello’ and ‘Thank You’ I racked my brain for names of African soccer players that I heard during the recent World Cup as a way to relate to them. “Nice pass Drogba !” “Good shot Eto”. I’ve found that handslaps, handshakes and smiles are also universal ways to break the ice. But the best way to win the kids over is to take photos. As soon as the camera comes out, a solo photo quickly becomes a group of 10 or more and all the children want to see the photo after it’s taken. Once they see their photo, they smile happily knowing they’ve been immortalized.

The soccer pitch was quite brutal as I almost turned my ankle twice on stones the size of a fist. All sorts of rocks were scattered all over the pitch but that didn’t deter the boys. Neither did their lack of appropriate footwear. Some of the kids only had flimsy sandals which would fly off after a particularly solid kick. Others actually played barefoot and I grimaced each time I saw them make contact with the ball or someone else’s foot.

Dal and I talked the footwear issue over with other volunteers and have decided to group together to purchase new sandals for each of the kids. They cost about $1.50 per pair, so if each of us contributes $50, we’ll be able to cover all the kids.

If any of the soccer fanatics reading this blog would be able to donate uniform tops or bottoms (used is perfectly fine) or anything else soccer related, please let me know and we can figure out how to make the arrangements.

The street kids being fed.

A picture with the kids waiting to be called in for their meal.

David dominating.

Group photo after the game.

Red Snowsuit Boy

Walking home from the market, I spotted his bumbling approach towards me out of the corner of my eye and stopped dead in my tracks. About 50 feet away, a child no older than 5 was in a dead sprint towards me with arms outstretched. He was wearing a bright red full-length snowsuit with the hood on, for reasons I’ll never understand. The smile on his face was electric and I lowered myself to my knees and readied myself for his embrace by extending my own arms. As he closed in on me, with his short legs waddling as fast as he could manage, he tripped over a large stone and face-planted into the dirt. Time literally stopped for an instant as onlookers awaited his reaction. After about 3 seconds, an impatient boy (who had been funnelling fresh milk into canisters to be sold) of about 7 picked up Red Snowsuit Boy by his left arm and I quickly approached to fully get him on his feet. As he looked up and saw me, he broke into a massive grin as he realized he would be able to achieve his original goal. He puts his arms around me and greeted me “Hello”. I smiled at him and said hello and asked him if he was ok. He simply hugged me tighter.

Given the nature of the children here as well as the amount of time we’ll be at the school, I’m setting the over/under of the # of hugs I’ll be participating in at around 50,000 (the conservative estimate). However the one from Red Snowsuit Boy is one that I never want to forget.

- David

Our First Day of School

The night before our first day at the school, Dal and I went to bed around 10am hoping to get a full night’s sleep. At 2:45am, the silence was pierced by the Imam's short prayer/announcement over the loudspeakers (1 of 10 that he performs daily during the holy month of Ramadan). Unable to sleep, I gradually woke Dal up at around 4:30am and we chatted about expectations of our first day. We knew to expect a lot of hugs, eagerness and noise. We discussed our anxiety about the fact neither of really knew how to teach English or math. What if the kids didn’t like us ? What if they ganged up on us ? What if they treated us the way we typically used to treat supply teachers back in elementary school ? These fears kept us up for the rest of the morning.

At 7:45am, we left the guest house in the truck and made the 5km drive to the school. We passed through the main town of Ruhengeri as Teste regularly honked the horn, alternating between greetings and warnings. As we turned down the road of the school, children began to sprint towards the main door. We felt like pop stars at the Grammys as we rolled up the driveway with our windows down and greeting by adoring children. Huge smiles and greetings of ‘Good Morning Teacher’ were given to us. As we stepped out of the car, we were all swarmed by the kids who wanted to either hug us our touch our hands. At one point, I literally had 20 kids around me reaching over each other to make contact with the muzunga (non-Rwandan) visitor.

One of my absolute favourite things about the kids is their canned answers to some basic questions. The answers always comeback rather loudly, even from the shy kids.

What is your name ? MY NAME IS SAMUEL IMANIREBE.

How old are you ? I AM 4 YEARS OLD.

How are you ? I AM FINE, THANK YOU.

Are you ok ? YES I AM OK.

There are 4 classes split by age (Baby class, 3 and 4, 4 and 5, 5 and 6’s). Each class rotates among outside play, classroom and feeding. We were able to participate in all 3 and it was loads of fun. Outside play was just like recess…controlled chaos. Kids sat on the ground with their legos, they talked with their friends or they played with soccer and bouncy balls. Simple games like playing keep away or heading the ball made them laugh and made me feel as skilled as Pele. I totally dominated them.

The classroom dynamics were interesting. The teachers are trying to teach the 123’s, ABC’s, days of the week and months of the year which the kids smartly recite. The kids attention span are similar to that of N American kids and there's lot of chatting with friends and what not, but it's clear to see that they all enjoy learning and want to be in school.
Feeding consists of sitting all the kids in a line and handing out bread and a sorghum/corn drink that contains water/milk/sugar. It’s likely the healthiest thing that many of these children will eat all day. As we distribute the mixture, the children exclaim “THANK YOU VERY MUCH” and finish their food. Not a fussy one in the bunch, however it’s not uncommon for one of the chickens that parade on the grounds to steal the bread from the hands of a child leaving that kids in tears.

On Day 2, we were able to distribute the suitcase of clothes we had brought over from Canada. After arranging them into Boys/Girls and small/medium/large, we would bring in kids 10 at a time and basically play dress-up. The children were thrilled to have new clothes and each left the room with a little more confidence and a lot more pride. Not once did a child express “I don’t like this” or “I want something else”. Rather, they happily removed the dirty clothes they were wearing and trust that we wouldn’t turn them into fashion nightmares. Many of the kids high-fived or hugged us after putting on their new threads.

Amazing Smiles

At the end of each day, all the children sit in a massive circle and are
led by the staff through various songs and dances. These kids have wayyy more rhythm then me, which isn’t really all that surprising. Today, we were also able to take some group photos. And most importantly, I was able to get the kids to do a thunderous chant of “GO LEAFS GO”. Dal expressed her concerned that we’re teaching these kids to be losers. Concern noted.

Here are a few photos of our days at the school. Once we have a faster internet connection, I'll add albums.

David distributing the food

Dal and her new friends

Inside the Classroom

Dal plays dressup

Showing off the new threads

Group Photo