As I replace my desktop with the June calendar, I realize I haven’t written anything about my doings in May.

May started with a visit to Mokono, a little village way up near the Ugandan border. It was a painful trip because Thaddee’s moto doesn’t have a padded seat, just a rack that you can carry things on. He had put a raincoat underneath for padding and that was supposed to be okay but I swear, my butt was bruised. It was a very long trip over unbelievable roads.

We came across at least five crews of people, men, women and children, repairing the road, (and I use that term lightly), after the heavy rains.

The best part of the trip was the scenery. The mountains are majestic and such green that can’t be described. There are miles and miles of tea growing in the bottom of the valleys and the hills are terraced with mostly vegetables. I often wonder how my mom would have mixed all those different greens in a painting!

As we were bumping along I wished I could remember more of the geology I learned in college so I could adequately describe the rock formations that I saw. Where the mountains have been sliced off to make a road, (really just a cow path!), there are huge, concave depressions which are striated in varying shades of a dusky blue colour; quite beautiful. Other rock is different shades of rust, some as bright as A&W orange!

Getting there we passed many groups of people standing beside their homes, (if you can call them homes, more like huts, all made with bricks formed by the natural clay), which are perched on the side of the road). From very old, (of which there seem to be very few), to the very young, you get huge smiles and waves. Children yell, “umuzungu, umuzungu!!!” I gingerly release my grip on the moto and wave back.

Because we were so late getting there I was only able to observe two classes, one before lunch and one after. Over the lunch break we were invited to the Headmistresses home to ‘rest!’ While there, I befriended the cutest, little kitty which sent me home with fleas, but that’s another story!

This school asked if I could find some penpals for their kids and just today Myrna Olafson in Blackfalds wrote to say her students are interested. What a wonderful opportunity for the Mokono kids!

The next week we visited another school, again, up near Uganda, called Rukizi. While the headmaster and his wife were giving us a cold drink, a girl of about 12 came to the door with a deep gash in her wrist. She was bleeding profusely and I thought she should have a tourniquet. No one seemed to know what to do and no one would listen to me, (no Kinyarwanda). Instead of attending to the girl, they were obviously trying to establish how it happened. (Apparently, someone pushed her into a window which broke and cut her). Meanwhile, the little girl is crying.

Finally, a man appeared with what looked like a cloth jacket belt and started to put it on the wound. I shrieked, "no," so instead he tied it tightly above the wound. (The bleeding did not stop). Then, a woman put a child's garment, (god knows if it was clean), over the wound and she was led away, supposedly to be taken to a clinic six kms. away and would probably have to wait for the next bisi, (taxi bus), to come along to get her there.

I was surprised there didn't seem to be any compassion for this hurt little girl and I ached to put my arms around her like we do when someone is hurt. I'll never grasp their ways or their culture in a million years.

In the meantime, besides coping with fleas, I developed a red, pussey thing below my left eye. Within days it had spread all around my eyes and down to my nose. I looked a sight. Immediately, I thought I had skin cancer so off to Dr. JP, my adorable physician, to find that I do not have skin cancer but I must see the skin specialist. That I did and she called it a form of eczema. Back in Byumba, everyone diplomatically told me it was simply Nyamuca.

Now, Nyamuca is a little insect with a black spot on its back and it’s secretions are very poisonous. After a big rain, they come into my house by the hundreds and in this case, some must have fallen onto my skin, including down the front of my blouse, and caused painful, but itchy, welts. That started on about the first week of May and I am still red and blotchy in the face and other places are settling down. Back to the specialist again on the 11th. Here is a website if you would like to see what the little monsters look like. www.lanesisland.com/news/2010/once_bitten.html

I have a new friend. His name is Florian and he is a 23 year-old research student from Germany and sooo smart. He’s like a walking textbook and seems to know a lot about everything. It is so nice to be able to have a conversation without measuring my words. Florian is going to be a psycho-analyst and he is here doing research on Social Therapy of which this country needs desperately. He tells me about his interesting interviews which are giving me even more of an insight into the culture of Rwanda.

Friday, the 21st, the young woman that I replaced came for a visit. She comes from Northern Ireland and is a delight. She, Florian and I had such a nice time together. It is curious that my life has changed to the point that small things now seem like luxuries. Paula had brought me a jar of marmalade from the city. The three of us made coffee, scrambled eggs, (100 francs for each egg), and made toast in my poor little oven and sat out on the cement step, (the verandah), and felt like we were sitting at a sidewalk cafe in Paris or somewhere. It was deliciously fun!

I have finished "The Virgin's Lover" by Phillippa Gregory.

I have started a choir and they come for 45 minutes on Wed. and Fri. I auditioned 450 Grade 2's and 3's and landed up with 51 kids.

Wednesday I looked up and there were at least 75 kids in the room. The teachers at this school are so lazy, they thought they would just send their entire class and have a break! Yikes! So Patrick, the only teacher that speaks decent English, called roll and sent the extras back to their class. Yesterday, same thing but one feisty little girl pointed at children, scowled and waggled her finger. I quickly understood and when she pointed at a child, back to class he went.

We are learning English songs, Go Tell It On The Mountain, 2 versions of ABC, (one version with harmony, the other, jazzy with clapping), Are You Sleeping and 1-2-3-4-5. They don't speak English yet so I use a lot of gestures and arm-waving. They are actually learning solfege too! They can't go from do to me but can go from so down to me. Wonderful voices!

One of my colleagues asked me to write a song about disability for a conference in July. I had a burst of inspiration the other morning and came up with:

Can you see,
The person that is me,
Can you see,
My possibilities,
Can you look beyond the problems that you see,
Can you just see
The person that is me
like you….

I laugh, I cry,
At school, I try,
To be the best I can,
My dreams are much the same as yours,
I wish you'd understand

And so that,

You will see,
The person that is me,
You will see,
My possibilities,
You will look beyond the problems that you see,
And you will see,
The person that is ME.

My creative juices are oozing as Nekarambi friend, Dorothy, and I are doing a Methodology Workshop on the 16th, presenting participatory methods that will work across all grade levels. Fortunately, I am able to call on all the activities I created teaching ESL in Mexico and Japan. I’m a little scared to presume to tell a group of teachers how to teach, but then, I have to remember that in reality, they do have very little teacher training.

I am having French lessons. I decided French was easier to learn than Kinyarwanda.

The rainy season is officially over and it’s dryer. Sadly, I don’t get my daily fix of the volcanoes as they are mostly clouded over. I wonder if it’s ever going to warm up as I sit here in my fleecy!