SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 2010
Kigali and Byumba

Although it is now February 4th, I have much to catch up on. The intensity of the training, the difficulty of getting a modem and Sim cards to get online, (slowly, that is), and the process of getting settled in Byumba has not left much time or mental energy for writing a blog. I only hope I can accurately relay the thoughts and feelings I had at the time.

ITC (In Country Training)

The city of Kigali is a huge, spread out conglomeration of new and old, beauty and ugliness and streams of all kinds of people going every which way. The traffic food chain is lorries, large buses, small buses, taxis, motos and finally, you. Each yields to the one bigger and believe me, they don’t stop.

On the streets are many handicapped people, quite obviously victims of the machetes during the genocide. I saw one beautiful, muscled man poling himself along the street, his stump of a leg at a 90 degree angle to the ground. Judging from how old he looked, he was probably a child in 1994. It breaks your heart to see the heart they must have to cope with the memories.

During the ITC, I got to know wonderful people, all so very educated and motivated. After a few days of sessions we would walk up the red, earth road to the closest bar/pub/watering hole where we would try to set the world to rights. Also, volunteers who are returning were barraged with questions and our Irish facilitator, Ruiri, was an ongoing wealth of tips and stories. Here is a photo of him explaining how to fill a kerosene cooker. Thank goodness I don’t have to use one of the smelly things. Portia, an in-your-face but delightfully so, American volunteer, is looking on skeptically!



We had Kinyarwanda lessons every morning. I certainly experienced what I know my ESL students were feeling their first days in English class. You are terrified you’ll make a fool of yourself. It seemed everyone else in the room was picking it up quickly and poor Colette and I were not. But we decided we would just go at our own pace and do the best we could. The numbers are incredible. I have them up to 40 and know how to say 1000 which is the price of many things.

I have figured out a way to convert Rwandan francs to Canadian. It something costs 1000 francs you double it, (2000), and then move the decimal three places to the left. So 1000 francs is 2.00. However, on what they give me to live on, I should only spend $12.00 CND a day.

Here is a photo taken on our way down the hill to catch a bus. Children know how to say “how are you!” and hold out their little hands for a handshake. Nikki, can you see I am using the bag you brought for me from Thailand?? It is perfect to keep my valuables zipped up!

While we were at training we were required to go to the Genocide Museum. I really didn’t want to go as reading about it before I came was frightening enough. However, I did go and I seriously regret it.
The museum takes you through the history of Rwanda, beginning with the half-hearted occupation by the Germans and then the Belgians after the Second World War. It explains how the foreign powers orchestrated the genocide, convincing the Hutus that it was their duty to annihilate the Tutsis. It was horrible, pictures of bodies, devastation and even displays of other genocides, such as the holocaust, that have occurred throughout history.

The last display was about the children, thousands of photos of children who were killed. As I left the museum some of the others were already sitting on the benches outside and I sat down next to Ken, one of the other volunteers. I was so grateful that he put his hand on my shoulder as I broke down in sobs and couldn’t stop. I kept trying to imagine what I would have done to save my children. I wish I hadn’t gone. It took many nights before I could get to sleep easily.

Here are pics of Christine’s and my very basic room at the Amani Guest House. Those hanging-down things are mosquito nets.



Two days before our employees came to pick us up we had a day of shopping. VSO gave us 100,000 Rfr to spend on household items so we all traipsed down to “The Chinese”, a kind of supermarket owned by a Chinese lady named Miel, to try and guess what our unseen accommodation needed.

What a zoo, twenty of us piling pots, sheets, mops, utensils, etc. in a large wash tub that one needs to have in their shower, (mine is large enough to soak my bones). I blithely collected what I thought I needed, not worrying about the amount but, when it came time to pay, I was about 48,000 Rfr. short.

The next morning, Jeremy helped me find my way into town, find a money-changer to convert my few US dollars to francs and then pay for my purchases. We arrived back in time to meet our new employers.

Penina, the head of the education department for the Diocese in Byumba, was the person who came to collect me. She speaks very little English but we managed to get through the many exercises they had prepared for us to get to know one another and to learn what each of our expectations are.

For our last night together, we all walked, torches in hand, to a much larger bar where we said our goodbyes and wished one another well. It’s amazing how close you can get to people when you spend all day, each day, for 10 days.

Next morning, Penina arrived at 9:00, and on time, (miracles will never cease). Some of the other volunteers waited until early afternoon for their employers. The driver, Ephraim, loaded my stuff into the little pick-up along with a new mattress, (it’s really crappy, though).

The drive to Byumba is just over an hour and stunningly beautiful. The hills are all terraced and emerald green. Along the way I saw rice paddies, sugar cane fields and vegetable fields. The roads are filled with people.

Per capita, Rwanda has 281 people to one square kilometre. The population of Byumba is 70,500 and the population of Rwanda is 7,398,074, according to Wikepedia. Being a predominantly Catholic country, birth control is not really practised.

Here are a few pics of my little house. It’s about the same size as my apartment in Japan but very crudely built. The walls are cracked and the plumbing is constantly leaking even though Gaetan has already been here to fix it. You know me, Mrs. Clean so I launched in with scrubbing until I had to stop to let my wrists get better.

These were taken as I arrived. I am somewhat settled now.

I have a domestique and her name is Rosa. She only speaks French and Kinyarwanda but through an interpreter, we have an agreement. She will do my washing, cleaning, shopping and cooking for two days food for 2000 fr a week.

This morning she came and worked with me. We scrubbed down the walls, furniture, windows and doors. The floor is cleaned by sloshing water on the concrete, sprinkle a little cleanser, swish it around with your broom and then squeegee it out the door and onto the grass. The joint even smells clean although the cow aroma occasionally wafts in.

My week here has been frustrating but also interesting. So far the only official thing that’s happened is my employer has taken me to meet officials, at the Sector and also at the District level. (Very important people). I am responsible for getting a “green card” so we spent an entire morning trying to get our “ducks all lined up.”

I am hoping to get out and into the schools next week.

Today is Saturday and I have the weekend off. I am reading a book about southern Africa, Covenant by James Michener so I can relax in the sun or I can try and figure out my I-Pod or I can organize my contacts.

At this time I can't figure out how to insert the photos. I give up for now! Will figure it out and include them in my next post. smg
POSTED BY SHALA'S IN BYUMBA, RWANDA AT 3:07 AM 1 COMMENTS
THURSDAY, JANUARY 21, 2010
Amsterdam
Amsterdam, January 15th, Friday, 2010
The plane was late leaving Montreal last night but we arrived in Amsterdam this morning at about 1:45 AM Ottawa time, Saturday, January 16th, ( 7:45 Amsterdam time). As usual, my legs were electric, (that’s what I call it when they twitch as I begin to relax), so I didn’t sleep. I was surprised, however, that the flight was actually just over five hours.
Since arriving, I’ve been a zombie, too tired to study Kinyarwandan, read my book or even listen to my new I-pod. I have found various places in this huge airport where I could “catch 40 winks.” The softest place was upstairs at the McDonald’s.
It is now 11:20 Ottawa time but here it is 5:20. I will stay awake now until I get on the flight to Nairobi leaving at 2:40 Ottawa time, 8:40 Amsterdam time so that means I have three more hours to kill.
I will arrive in Nairobi at 7:00 tomorrow morning, Nairobi time, which I think is nine hours ahead of Calgary so seven hours ahead of Ottawa. Therefore, I think it will be midnight in Ottawa when I arrive in Nairobi. How confusing, eh?
Then, I fly to Kigali after only a little more than an hours wait and arrive in Kigali at 8:10 Rwanda time. I dearly hope someone is there to meet me!

Flights from Amsterdam
Finally it was time to board the plane. I was starving as the McDonald’s meal was not that satisfying. I had expected that we would eat right after take-off but they offered drinks first which took a lot of time. After dinner was finished I took one of Erica’s relaxation pills, as she called them, because my legs were going crazy again. I waited and waited but it didn’t seem to help so I took the other one. Big mistake.
I don’t even remember changing planes in Nairobi. When I arrived in Kigali I was met by two women who quickly realized I was at the very least, drunk. The put me in a wheelchair, collected my luggage and brought me to the housing complex where we are all staying for a week’s training. I did explain, though, that I wasn’t drunk!

They were all having dinner when I arrived. I remember eating spinach and the names of a few people but the rest of the evening is a blur. This morning several people commented that I kept falling asleep at the table. This is a lovely bunch of people and they have been so kind.
I remember excusing myself and headed for my bed. (I am sharing a room with a great Australian girl named Christine). I absolutely died until 7:30 the next morning. I joined the group for breakfast feeling rested and excited for my adventure to begin.
After breakfast we met as a group of about 20 for ICT or In Country Training. First they went over the basics about health, again!, the local hierarchy for help and support and basic safety such as traffic, motos, purse-snatching, and what to do if you have an accident. We were also told that Burundi is not that safe to visit and that visiting the Congo was prohibited.
After lunch we were taken downtown to buy cell phones. My cell phone is your very most basic variety and cost 7,000 Rwandan francs. VSO has given me a SIM card which apparently will enable me to get internet. This internet stuff is all very confusing as other people say I need to buy a modem.
Back at our living quarters we had a session on kerosene lamps, kerosene cookers, (stoves), and charcoal cookers. Thank GOD I don’t have to use the smelly things as I am extremely lucky to have fairly reliable electricity and I will have an electric ring, (single hot plate, I think!). I am told, also, that I even have an oven so I can bake! Yaaa!
As the sun began to set I started to worry that the mosquitos would come out and I was a sitting duck. At that very moment, the session was brought to a close and we were told to go and put on repellent. I also remembered to take my malaria pill. It’s going to be quite an adjustment to remember to take it every day!
Dinner was a 7:00 and as I looked over the city, there was a bright, yellow sliver of a moon hovering in a black sky. Very beautiful.
I must tell you about the buses. The first bus we took was like our 7-seater vans. Believe it or not, they crammed 16 of us into one and we were told there was room for 3 more. There is no pollution or emission control here and it was horrible trying to breathe when another belching bus was ahead of us. The bus drivers on both the to and from buses agreed to an amount to be paid for the trip and then after we got underway, insisted that the price was higher. There was a lot of yelling and I’m quite sure the ladies in charge did not pay more than was originally agreed upon.
Tomorrow we are being addressed by Ambassador Nick Cannon from the British Embassy. At some point I will have to be registered at the Canadian Embassy.
Tomorrow, also, we will learn the finance and form-filling procedures and as well, a session on Rwandan culture. I did learn today that it is quite acceptable to take a cell phone call when you are in the middle of a meeting, conversation, or presentation.
This morning I took a COLD shower. Since then we have learned that the shower head is much like the units in Mexico; you can have hot water on demand.
Still in Kigali
January 19, 2010
Not much sleep last night as there was loud conversation outside our window until midnight and the Muslim singer began at 5:00.
This morning we started our Kinyarwanda lessons. The pronunciation that I had practised from what I found on the internet is a very watered down version of the actual sounds which I am having a devil of a time making. The mw sounds are the hardest, e.g. mwaramutse which means, generally, good morning but really means, “did you pass a good night.” Also, mwiriwe which means good afternoon.
I can say, my name is Shala. Nitwa Grindlay Shala! Then I can say, “And you?” Wowe se. Learning this language is going to be my greatest challenge while I’m here.
At eleven we were transported to the British Embassy where Ambassador Nick Cannon gave us a rundown of Rwandan history from colonial times to the present. He was extremely well-spoken and informative as well as quite funny. They had treats for us, even chocolate cake.
Back here for lunch and then a session on Finance and form-filling. The facilitators were Rwandan and I hardly understood a thing they said. The combination of my hearing loss, background noise and their accent made it impossible to make out what was being said but luckily my roommate Christine explained it all to me afterwards. We were given our allotment for the first three months and instructed how to go about opening a bank account. I will have to wait until I get to Byumba to do that as I need to bank in my town.
After the afternoon break we had a long session on Rwandan etiquette. For example, it is not acceptable to eat or drink on the street, public places or on taxis or buses. Ladies thighs are not to be shown. Do not show public displays of affection. It is acceptable for men to walk hand in hand.
I am very tired tonight and am ready to hit the sack.
POSTED BY SHALA'S IN BYUMBA, RWANDA AT 12:06 PM 1 COMMENTS
FRIDAY, JANUARY 15, 2010
NOT flying to Montreal!
Imagine my surprise when I handed the airline agent my itinerary and discovered that I was NOT flying to Montreal, I was going by train. Although the itinerary says KLM Dutch Airlines, in another section, in small print, it says Ottawa RR Station. So, here I am in the train station, an hour early.

I am rather pleased with myself that I have successfully packed my suitcases so that my big ones are exactly 50 lbs. each and my carry-on is around 20 lbs. Not sure how much my 'purse' weighs though! I was even able to get my new hot-pink motorcycle helmet in. Initially, I thought I would have to wear it on the plane!!
POSTED BY SHALA'S IN BYUMBA, RWANDA AT 9:54 AM 2 COMMENTS
LABELS: NOT FLYING TO MONTREAL
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BLOG ARCHIVE
• ▼ 2010 (8)
o ▼ February (5)
 A Key Day
 Now I Know Why I Feel Lousy
 February 18, 2010 Although I have much to tell ab...
 Soggy Sunday
 Kigali and Byumba
o ► January (3)
 Amsterdam
 NOT flying to Montreal!
 Ottawa, January 5 to January 15th

ABOUT ME
SHALA'S IN BYUMBA, RWANDA
VIEW MY COMPLETE PROFILE

A Key Day

I'm finally into the Diocese school here and today, and for the first time, felt like I was contributing something. One of the Grade 6 teachers asked me to write some dialogues, (conversations), for her kids to practice so, I did, and then put them on chart paper. Took me the better part of the afternoon.

Today was a funny key day. As I was rushing to get to school this morning I dropped my keys, unbeknownst. (Is that really a word, it looks funny). When I came home, I couldn't open the gate to the 10' wall that surrounds my house. I walked up to the Diocese offices and Celestine went to find keys. Some time.......... later we walked down to my gate, (in pouring rain, I, in my wonderful, turquoise raincoat), to see if the keys worked. They didn't.

Mostly, I needed to pee so I said, "Celestine, just give me a leg up and over the wall!" He was reluctant but did help push me over. In the process, my lovely, turquoise raincoat was smeared with wet algae and dirt. I thought, I'll never get it clean again, those are worse than grass stains. (Oh, and guess where my keys were? I had dropped them in the gravel right outside my door!).

However, I filled up my washtub outside, sat on my step and scrubbed and scrubbed. Miraculously, all the stains came out. It is now dripping on my clothesline. I will bring it in before I go to bed as it will probably rain again tonight. I have NEVER experienced such downpours, even in Squamish!

And another key story; when I came home from school this afternoon, my key wouldn't unlock my metal gate. I tried and tried but it wouldn't turn the lock. (And I had to pee, again. You have to plan your bathroom stops here as you don't want to use most places). Several people gave it a try but to no avail. Finally, a young man showed me the trick, you just pull out a little on the

key, and voila, it turned. "Murabeho, murabeho," I said and shook his hand!

I thought you might be interested to know that water here must first be boiled and then filtered. I have a kettle that holds about 8 litres of water. After I boil the water, I let it stand. I’m hoping I can upload the photograph of what settles to the bottom. I wonder what it is!!!

Now I Know Why I Feel Lousy

Now I know why I feel lousy

It was decided that I should see a doctor and so yesterday morning I got up at 7:00 to make it up the hill to the bus departure area, (not a depot), and halfway up the hill, I thought I might faint. To flag down a moto you pat the air. I paid him two hundred Rfr for about a football field’s distance to the bus and bought a ticket just in time to depart.

These are the luxury buses and it costs 1000 Rfr to Kigali. Like most buses, there are double seats on one side of the aisle and single seats on the other side. However, an added feature of these buses is drop-down seats that fill up the aisle. It is hilarious watching people from the back of the bus crawl over people to get off at their stop.

There was one, very prosperous looking lady, sitting in one of the single seats but with her bags on the drop-down seat next to her. Some poor man got on the bus, looked at the seat, (which was the only available seat), and without saying anything, fidgeted while the lady looked askance. Finally, with distain, she removed her bags to her lap and he sat down with a smile.

When I arrived in Kigali I asked the first English-speaking person I could find how much I should pay a moto to go to the Polyclinic. Three hundred. Instead of walking away after giving me the information, he walked me down to where the motos were parked and chose the best driver for me. At the clinic, the moto driver dropped me off with a smile and a pat. (Rwandans are very sweet in their concern for you).

I wanted to see Dr. Jean Paul again but was taken to Dr. Antoine who surprisingly was born in the hills near Byumba. What a story he must have to tell; from Byumba to Chief of Staff!

He gave me the complete once-over and sent me to a bed where I was hooked up to an IV. I was given pain-killer for my headache and something, don’t know what, in the IV. (Yes, I asked but didn’t understand what he said!).

I slept for the afternoon and the diagnosis is intestinal bug from either food or utensils. He sent me home with antibiotics, something for abdominal pain, and fizzy pain-killers.

So, last night I went to bed at 7:00 and slept through until after 8:00 this morning. As I write, I am feeling worlds better.

If I can get online I will find Cathy’s instructions on how to reduce photos for uploading and then be able to insert photos into my blog.

February 18, 2010

Although I have much to tell about being here in Byumba, I would first like to tell you that my nephew, Drew Neilson, just competed in the Winter Olympics in downhill Boardercross. For youse not in the know, it’s where five, (I think five), snowboarders start at the top of a mountain and race to the bottom. The boarder that gets to the bottom first is the winner. Drew finished eleventh in the world! Way to go, Drew!!

Since last entry I am feeling a lot better and seem to have adjusted to the altitude. I still get tired but I think that’s just old age! I am feeling more settled in my little house, finding places for things and getting my schedule streamlined.

They told me I would lose weight but would you believe I’m three notches in on my belt now??? Not buying meat here has turned me into a vegetarian and I must admit, it agrees with me.

There are so many things you just cannot get here. Unless you know someone with cows, you buy powdered milk. I’d kill for a jar of Miracle Whip and a tub of peanut butter. They do have peanut butter here but it is laced with sugar. Brown bread is only available in Kigali and it is very dear.

Today I walked all the way up the hill to find lima beans to make manipulatives for math and to find clothes hangers. Came home with nothing but sore hips. Oh, and I’m also wanting a conical coffee maker thing that you put a filter into, spoon in the coffee and then pour hot water through. The Turkish style coffee maker I have splurts all over my stove and doesn’t really make very good coffee.

Anyway, on to more interesting news. Meg took me to a tea factory. It is very close to the Rwandan border and in the area where Paul Kagame had his headquarters when he was leading the Rwandan Patriotic Front, (RPF). I expected this factory to be similar to the ramshackle sugar factory I saw in Mexico but was pleasantly surprised to see a very well-run place. We saw many tea-pickers along the way as we were jouncing over the dirt roads. Apparently, only the very top three leaves are picked for the best quality tea.

In the factory we saw the complete drying process. I bought some tea at the factory and although I have never tasted a tea that I like as well as coffee, this is darn good tea.

I decided to buy a refrigerator. I found a little, bar-sized fridge at Nakamutt in Kigali. Including the surge-protector, it cost $249 CND. It is difficult planning meals when you have to eat the food before it spoils. A FRIDGE is a huge luxury here though. The majority of the people do not have fridges and for the matter, don`t even have enough food.

The Sunday we picked up the fridge, Pastor Thaddee, two others and I attended an HIV/Aids outdoor conference in Gitarama which is south and west of Kigali. It was attended by all faiths minus the Catholics. There were many impassioned speeches promoting the use of condoms, all in Kinyarwanda. I spent the time admiring the fashions the ladies wore, everything from traditional African dresses to Muslim suits. The African women wind cloth around their heads in such a fetching way.

Finally, Thaddee and I got my green card. I won’t bore you with the long, long process but I have it now and can legally work.

Two days ago Thaddee took me to the Anglican Diocese Elementary school which is across the street from where I live. He gathered all the teachers together to formally introduce me and I gave a little account of what I was there for, where I was from, etc. Then Pascal, the Head Teacher, (Principal), took me and introduced me to every class.

I am struggling to find the words to make a picture for you of what I saw. Picture a long U-shaped building made of bricks. There are glassed windows, (this school is lucky, most schools just have holes for windows), only on the inner side of the U which may open or close. Inside the classrooms are rough desks that seat three. Two sides of the room have very crude blackboards, (don’t know what they’re made of but they’re not slate). There is no electricity so on cold ,rainy days, it is too dark to see what is written on the blackboard.

Class sizes are up to 70. Each room is a sea of lovely, black faces, all with shorn heads so it’s hard to tell the girls from the boys until they stand up and then you can see if they are wearing a skirt. They have split the school population in two, half go in the morning and the other half attend in the afternoon. Teachers start at 7:00 and leave at 5:00. Apparently, they are very poorly paid, as well, and in the words of my friend Penina, the Education Manager, education is not happening very well because teachers are not motivated. No wonder!

There are NO materials. The teachers only have chalk.

I watched a lesson where the teacher was teaching them to simply say and write, “good morning, teacher.” She wrote it on the blackboard, had them repeat it in chorus, then asked several of the 70 kids to repeat it, and then asked for volunteers to write it on the board. Only 10 of the 70 got to practise. The others were to write it in their notebooks but only a handful actually had a notebook or even a piece of paper. This whole process took over over 30 minutes. It’s heartbreaking!

I think my music is going to be useful here. I taught a little music in some of the classes and they loved it. When Pascal was introducing me to the children in each class he asked if anyone would like to sing in a choir. ALL hands went up. Yikes! There are over 1,000 kids in this school.

There is so much more I would like to express about this country. It is hard to put into words the thoughts and feelings I have. I am in awe when I realize how far this little country has come in 16 short years since the genocide. Think about it, if you were plopped into a totally devastated country, a million orphans, infrastructure destroyed, most educated people dead, what would you do first? It is mind-boggling what they have accomplished. I feel such anger at the foreign powers that are responsible for what happened in Rwanda.

There is a huge, rust-coloured, bee/bug about 1 ½ inches long, flying around my fluorescent light and it’s bugging me. I’ve given him three chances to leave so now he must die. Can you believe I cannot find a fly swatter in this country? I use my rubber glove.

This morning I took a picture from my back door because I could see not one, but three of the Virungi volcanoes. I’ll see if I can download it as I have been told that I need to reduce the size of my photos if I want them to download in less than 10 minutes each.

That’s it for now.

Soggy Sunday

February 8, 2010

I’m cold! Four degrees below the equator and I’m cold. It is raining buckets out there now, 1:00 in the afternoon when Penina said it usually only rains at night! I was cold in the night, too, with two blankets on my bed. Shouldn`t have left my winter things in Ottawa!
When they offered me Rwanda as a placement, the information on the country said there are four seasons:


January/February, Short dry season, harvest

Mar/Apr/May, Big rains season,planting

June/July/Aug, Very hot/no rain,

Sept/Oct/Nov/Dec, Short rains, second cultivation

However, I’ve been told that global warming has thrown this off and that they are not really sure when to plant anymore.

Yesterday, Sunday, I was feeling quite punk. The pollution, or I thought it was pollution, (I really do think there is pollution), but Meg tells me I am feeling the effects of the altitude. I feel tired, dizzy and I can’t seem to breathe. She assures me that in time my body will adjust.

As I was making lunch my propane ran out. That meant I wouldn’t be able to boil water to put through the water filter; very important as you can’t drink the water from the tap. Also, I can’t make coffee, also very important. BTW, Rwanda is known for its coffee and it’s delicious.

Starving as I was, I went up to a hotel that has a big plaster gorilla on top of its gate. I was the only one there. Ordered a chicken dinner for 5000 fr which is a very expensive meal here and it was really only worth about a 1500 fr meal. Wonder if that was the mazungu price. Oh well, at least my tummy was full.

In order to get a new propane tank, I have to somehow arrange to get it to Kigali. I have asked that the next time a Diocese vehicle goes into the city that I am allowed to go along to get the propane but also to buy a refrigerator. Again, I won't hold my breath.

This morning I trekked up the hill to the bank where Marcel, a very tall, handsome Tutsi, (we`re not supposed to designate), with long, slender fingers that should play the piano, smiled welcome. My cheque from VSO went through, (it took more than a week), and I easily withdrew 150,000 fr with 100,000 going to pay Meg back for her loan when I went in to Kigali.

I managed my first trip to the market alone. Since I remembered prices of things from when I shopped with Sam, if they gave me a mazungu price I said, `nimeshi` and if they didn`t come down, I walked on. The avocados here are fabulous but the mangoes are not.

Have fought with F.R.E.D. for about an hour trying to upload photos to my blog. I think the server is not strong enough, (not the right terminology, I know), as I can't get radio online either. If anyone knows of an alternate way of adding pics, please let me know.