October 10th – October 14th, 2007
Last week was a bit of a whirlwind because we had to do last minute visits with people we’d never see again and we had our 1 and a half hour presentations due on Friday. As a result, we all had pretty short tempers with each other. Hence, I wanted to escape. But it’s all over now, so I feel much better and so does everyone else. Group projects are always a nightmare and I’ve always hated them. I guess it’s so difficult getting all the personalities to work together and think alike and agree. It’s also difficult to trust everyone.
On Wednesday I went out to dinner with a bunch of us girls and the guy I met on the plane and a couple of his friends. We had a great time talking and had pizza. We taught them how to say ‘dig in’ before we eat and they taught us how to say ‘bon appetit’ which is somehow much more sophisticated to me. We also taught them what a mullet was by drawing pictures. We also explained what a comb-over was and how many men in the US do that as well as wear toupees when they lose their hair. Fred (my airplane friend) and his friends (Emma and Robert) ended up paying for all of us and then also paid for our ride home in the taxi. It was very nice. It was then that I realized that I was probably hanging out with the top of society there in Rwanda. They did not seem to be in want and they were successful business people at the local phone company called MTN. That was very much a change from many of our other acquaintances there.
On Friday night Caitlin, Christy and I visited Paul and boy did we get a surprise! He ended up confessing his love for Christy – since the first time he saw her. And he wanted her to know that he will love her forever, wherever she goes. And that she does not have to return his love. The strange thing was that he was talking at me, she was right there. He said it like this, “I just want her to know that I love her and I always will.” And she was RIGHT there! Listening. It was very awkward for me and for Christy. Then later he took Caitlin aside and told her that he wanted her to mediate between Christy and him while she is in Ethiopia so that maybe she will be convinced to marry him. So that was awkward for Caitlin. He said that if she was his friend then she would want for him what he wants for himself. But she kept saying that she couldn’t tell Christy to love him because she wants to keep in mind what Christy wants and not just what he wants. She has been her friend longer than his. At first I almost wanted to laugh because I thought that he wasn’t serious because he kept asking us if we had boyfriends and saying that he wanted a girl that was one of our friends and who loved him for himself instead of wanting money from him. So I thought that (since Caitlin and I had boyfriends) that he was just choosing the girl that didn’t have one. But then when he gave her the note I saw that it actually had Christy’s name on it and he had drawn a picture of a piano (which she plays). So he had obviously been thinking about this for a long time. Now Christy has to find a way to tell him that there is just no way that it would work out. I could not help but feel so bad for her because it was the most awkward situation that any of us had ever been in and it must have been soo much worse for her.
So after we hung out with Paul, we went to a coffee shop and hung out with Fred and his friend Emma. We talked and laughed and then they invited us to go to a club. So we did. Christy had never been to a club before, so I wanted to share this experience with her. We just all danced in a big group and had a great time. If a man tried to dance with me alone, I would quickly turn toward someone else or look with begging eyes toward my friends to rescue me. So it worked out. We taught Fred and Emma how to make spitballs and spit them out straws. That was super fun and hilarious. Then we taught them a bunch of retarded American dances like the funky chicken, the sprinkler the shopping cart, the disco, washing machine, lawn mower, and the fishing pole (you reel someone in). They taught us a super complicated game (or at least I thought so) and Christy was really good at it because it is a math type game and she is a math major. They kept saying, “Ah, you are so good because you are a mathematician.” Christy had a great time at the club. And I had a fun time altogether that night.
So then we ended up staying out all night and got in at 4 am. Don’t freak out guys, we were perfectly safe. I know it sounds weird doing this in Africa, but it really is safer in these two countries (Uganda and Rwanda) than it is in the states. There is much less crime. So since we got back at 4, we had to pack because our bus left at 5 am for Kampala. So we finally reached Kampala sometime in the afternoon. I did not use the bathroom, eat, or drink anything because I slept the whole way. Except when I was rudely awoken by people. It was so hot in the bus because they would not open the windows. Ugh. The woman next to me kept adjusting her shirt and elbowing me and I got so irritated with her adjusting her shirt. I don’t know why she had to do it so much. And it was a scratchy shirt.
Anyway, when we arrived in Kampala, we were so glad to be back! It was so beautiful at our guesthouse there. I took a nice long shower in which I could actually get all the conditioner out of my hair. In Kampala, it was difficult because sometimes we didn’t have great water pressure, so I could barely rinse my hair out. Also, it didn’t help that we had to hold the shower head to rinse out our hair, so I could only use one hand to help rinse it out. So usually my hair didn’t always look clean after I cleaned it. I also had thought I liked Kigali better, but now that I’m in Kampala again, I am not so sure. I really like Kampala. I’m comfortable here. More people speak English, so that’s always more convenient for us. I guess I missed the craziness of Kampala. Its quirkiness. How you can look around and always see something new or something you can laugh at (like the guy who was wearing a door on a motorcycle). It was like coming back home in a way. I am much less homesick here for some reason. Maybe it’s also because we have internet that actually works well here and we don’t have to reset every 5 minutes. Also, since we went out a lot in Kigali (much more than we did here), I think I am more comfortable about going out. I used to be way too tense.
So last night I went to bed early and this morning I woke up at like 9 am even though I had an early night. I read Harry Potter and I contemplated going to church, but I realized that I just wanted to relax. So I finished the 3rd Harry Potter book and then went to a mall called Garden City in which we found cheesecake and chocolate cake! Personally, I thought the cakes were ok and I had had better, but the other girls really liked them. They also had milk which we never get here. Then we went to the Nisleys and had a beeeautiful dinner of shish kebobs and rice and Caesar salad and yummy bread and brownies. Yes it was delightful. I played volleyball with a bunch of people and then we sat around singing worship songs while Caitlin played guitar. We walked back and now I’m enjoying just catching up on all my blogs, talking to all ya’ll at home. Good night. I am probably forgetting some things that happened last week, but I tried. I love this place and I love you guys. Have a happy fall and enjoy the fall leaves for me.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Visiting Kibuye in Western Rwanda
October 6th-October 9th, 2007
I drank in the beauty of the lake in Kibuye and watched the goose bumps form on my arms, which was highly unusual for Africa. We were staying on the lake in Kibuye, which is in eastern Rwanda (Kigali was in Middle Eastern Rwanda). On the way there we looked stopped at two more genocide memorial sites. They were both churches in which thousands of people were killed. I read a book along the way, which is highly unusual for me. Usually, my stomach does not agree with reading in vehicles.
Also on the way, we stopped at a site where there was a waterfall surrounded by a beautiful, green view. As we piled out of the van for a break, children encircled us and played instruments which were handmade. They were essentially bent sticks with some sort of container at the end and one string was attached to each end of the stick and made the stick bend. The music was played using a handmade ‘bow’ on the string. Somehow, they managed to get many notes and melodies out of that simple instrument by moving their fingers along the length of the string and with the use of the bow. At first I listened, fascinated. But I quickly noticed the hungry looks in their eyes and the desperation on their faces. They were not playing for the sake of pleasure or for the sake of entertaining others. When they stopped playing they spoke to us in French and Kinyarwanda and we just stared back because we did not know their language.
I felt helpless to do anything. I wanted to give them a little money, but I felt like that would not help them get out of their desperation so that they would no longer be slaves to that instrument, slaves to their stomachs. Unfortunately, we had to leave, so I did not dig through my purse for money. I often feel the urge to give, but I never feel like it will be enough to make a difference. I guess we have to remember that we can only help one at a time and that’s what true eradication of poverty is all about. But the faces of those children, the desperation as they played their music, still haunt me. It made me angry. I was angry at society for letting people become poor. I was angry at the children for seeing us as money bags. I was angry at the adults who made children do those things in order to make money for their family. I was angry at the whole situation. I felt manipulated. Then I had to remember that if I was in the same situation that I would probably be doing the same thing. I would do anything I could for my family. It’s so hard to step in people’s shoes sometimes.
When we finally arrived in Kibuye we had a delicious lunch which included mushroom soup that we ended up pouring all over our food. The head waiter did not appreciate that and kept pointing at the tomato soup (which was actually meant for pouring all over a person’s food) and trying to get people to eat that instead. I found it quite humorous myself. When a girl went back for seconds (or was it thirds?) the same waiter said, “Are you trying to get fat?” Also hilarious. Here, people don’t go for seconds usually, but instead, pile their plates high with food. I personally didn’t see how that was any different (except if you get a little at a time, you will be less likely to waste food). Anyway, different cultures, different ways of thinking.
That evening we hung out, enjoying the beachside and the cooler weather, and listening to Julie’s life story. At night, I ended up sharing a room with Stacy and we ended up sharing a bed too because there was only one mosquito net. It was above the double bed. Unfortunately, throughout the night I kept wondering why Stacy kept nudging me and elbowing me. Then early in the morning, I woke up to her practically spooning with me. Naturally, I was a bit uncomfortable with that. But I quickly (or not so quickly) realized that the bed sank in the middle so that we each were forced into the middle of the bed. I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I switched to the smaller bed and slept much more soundly.
The next morning we went to a small church outside of town. It seemed very similar to the Jordan House Pentecostal Church except that there wasn’t nearly as much dancing around in the congregation and the preaching wasn’t nearly as loud and flamboyant. We got to sing for the congregation again. We sang “This Little Light of Mine” with hand motions because it was a simple song which we knew the words to. We did not want to make the same mistake as when we sang for the sewing girls last week. After the service we talked to many prominent members of the church in a separate room and drank pop (or soda for whomever prefers it). I have had so much pop here that I am sick of it. I don’t ever drink it at home, but sometimes it’s all there is to drink and it’s rude to turn down a drink or food when people offer them.
After lunch we were about to go on a boat ride on the lake, but it started to rain. Consequently, we waited for it to subside. Meanwhile, I read Harry Potter #2 (I’m going through the series a second time) and took a nice, long nap. It seems like I can never sleep past 6 am here, so naps are frequent. At around 3:30 we left on the boat. It was a serene ride and it was only a little bit chilly. We rode to an island which had a bat cave. It was pretty amazing. We did not visit the cave, but we didn’t need to; the bats streamed out of the cave and only grew larger in number when we clapped and yelled in encouragement. They seemed to like the attention. Camille (the girl with the greatest accent because she lived in England for 10 years) was hilarious because she kept screeching, holding onto me, and hiding behind me. As I looked up at them, I realized I should not gawk with my mouth open or I might receive an unpleasant present from the bats. We rode to another location and played volleyball with a really flat ball and a short net. But it was still fun. Others swam in the lake. I also got to pet a monkey which was roped to a tree. Kinda sad, but it was cute. All of us girls have this thing where we ask, ‘what is the first name of every animal?’ So the whole time I was thinking ‘rabies monkey’, but fortunately, it was friendly and enjoyed being scratched. That night the girls yelled and rooted for their favorite team while watching the football game (known as soccer in the states), while they also checked out the guys. Yeah, I was reading Harry Potter. Then we watched an episode of Felicity, which really isn’t that good (the plot especially), but for some reason, you still get sucked in.
Monday morning we left for the next location. We stopped at a church memorial along the way. I don’t know the name of the place. On the way, we had a bit of an accident. A man on a bike ran into one of the vans! I was in the van which was not hit, but it was pretty scary. This is how I think it happened, but I’m not sure if I am right since I was reading Harry potter (hee) and had to hear about the impact second hand. We had brought two vans along so that we would have plenty of room and we would not be squished together for the long journey. Technically, you can get 21 people in those vans, which counts the driver. But we had maybe 10 people in each.
Someone in the other lane was passing a car and so my van (which was in front of the other one) had to pull to the side a bit to let the car pass. Then the van behind us had to break really fast and so the biker slammed into the back of the vehicle (we were going downhill a bit) at full speed. Our van did not realize what happened for a minute until someone in our van said, “A bike hit their van!” And I was like ‘Huh?’ as I came out of my Harry Potter reverie. I looked back as our van pulled to the side and pulled backwards toward the other van. I could barely see a bicycle on the ground and some sandals on the road, with glass everywhere. But I clearly saw the rear window to the van almost completely gone. I had expected to see a man lying down on the ground unable to move, but instead the man was staggering around holding his head. He finally collapsed on the bank by the ditch.
I was very proud of the some of the girls from my group. Two of them are pre-med students, one of them is a trained lifeguard, and the other thinks she might become a pre-med student (Kirsten). Kirsten was amazing because she slapped some gloves on and treated his cuts. Stacy (the lifeguard) had a fully equipped first aid kit which they used to treat him. The pre-med students helped and they were able to treat all of his gashes. But they believed his nose was broken and he might have had a broken rib or two. Also, they were pretty sure he had a concussion, especially since he kept coming in and out of consciousness. Stacy kept checking the guy’s pulse and his breathing and was ready to use that Seal Easy if he stopped breathing. I did not come near to the man because too many people were crowded around him (besides the girls from our group, many Rwandans stopped to watch really close). Even though I was not near, I could still see that his head was bright red from the blood coming out of it. I was so proud of our girls. The man was finally taken away in a truck and the driver who was driving the van that was hit had to stay. As a result, the rest of us had to pile into the van so we had all 20 people in the one van. It was rather squishy. Luckily, the man was able to meet us at the place we were staying at. I had personally been afraid that there would be violent justice because sometimes when people hurt other people here, they try to take the law into their own hands. But he was fine.
When we arrived at the next location, in order to get to our rooms we had to walk a maze-like path. I didn’t think I’d remember how to get there again, but I succeeded. Then we left for a conference about peace building. It was a class taken by pastors from all over Rwanda. They talked about the church’s involvement in peace building and reconciliation. Most of us were falling asleep or making lists in our small notebooks in order to amuse ourselves. There was one man who kept trying to sneak pictures of us, but he wasn’t being very discreet. Afterwards they took us for a tour of the university which had a nice campus and could almost have been the George Fox University campus because of its style.
The next morning we visited the king’s palace. It was pretty cool. They had a building for beer, a building for, the king, a building for his wives, and a building for the milk. The building for the wives and daughters had men who took care of them but were eunuchs, for obvious reasons. It wouldn’t have been so awkward that he told us that, but he seemed so reluctant to say that word. It was pretty funny. Then when we went to the king’s building, there was a big bed and he said that a wife isn’t supposed to ‘jump him while he’s sleeping.’ We all laughed just because his wording was really funny. The buildings were really cool because we were huts with mats on the floor. Of course the king’s was the largest.
We drove home without any spectacular (or horrible) incidents this time and were glad to be back so we could take showers (because where we were before, the showers didn’t work very well). It was a nice weekend away from the Kigali guesthouse.
I drank in the beauty of the lake in Kibuye and watched the goose bumps form on my arms, which was highly unusual for Africa. We were staying on the lake in Kibuye, which is in eastern Rwanda (Kigali was in Middle Eastern Rwanda). On the way there we looked stopped at two more genocide memorial sites. They were both churches in which thousands of people were killed. I read a book along the way, which is highly unusual for me. Usually, my stomach does not agree with reading in vehicles.
Also on the way, we stopped at a site where there was a waterfall surrounded by a beautiful, green view. As we piled out of the van for a break, children encircled us and played instruments which were handmade. They were essentially bent sticks with some sort of container at the end and one string was attached to each end of the stick and made the stick bend. The music was played using a handmade ‘bow’ on the string. Somehow, they managed to get many notes and melodies out of that simple instrument by moving their fingers along the length of the string and with the use of the bow. At first I listened, fascinated. But I quickly noticed the hungry looks in their eyes and the desperation on their faces. They were not playing for the sake of pleasure or for the sake of entertaining others. When they stopped playing they spoke to us in French and Kinyarwanda and we just stared back because we did not know their language.
I felt helpless to do anything. I wanted to give them a little money, but I felt like that would not help them get out of their desperation so that they would no longer be slaves to that instrument, slaves to their stomachs. Unfortunately, we had to leave, so I did not dig through my purse for money. I often feel the urge to give, but I never feel like it will be enough to make a difference. I guess we have to remember that we can only help one at a time and that’s what true eradication of poverty is all about. But the faces of those children, the desperation as they played their music, still haunt me. It made me angry. I was angry at society for letting people become poor. I was angry at the children for seeing us as money bags. I was angry at the adults who made children do those things in order to make money for their family. I was angry at the whole situation. I felt manipulated. Then I had to remember that if I was in the same situation that I would probably be doing the same thing. I would do anything I could for my family. It’s so hard to step in people’s shoes sometimes.
When we finally arrived in Kibuye we had a delicious lunch which included mushroom soup that we ended up pouring all over our food. The head waiter did not appreciate that and kept pointing at the tomato soup (which was actually meant for pouring all over a person’s food) and trying to get people to eat that instead. I found it quite humorous myself. When a girl went back for seconds (or was it thirds?) the same waiter said, “Are you trying to get fat?” Also hilarious. Here, people don’t go for seconds usually, but instead, pile their plates high with food. I personally didn’t see how that was any different (except if you get a little at a time, you will be less likely to waste food). Anyway, different cultures, different ways of thinking.
That evening we hung out, enjoying the beachside and the cooler weather, and listening to Julie’s life story. At night, I ended up sharing a room with Stacy and we ended up sharing a bed too because there was only one mosquito net. It was above the double bed. Unfortunately, throughout the night I kept wondering why Stacy kept nudging me and elbowing me. Then early in the morning, I woke up to her practically spooning with me. Naturally, I was a bit uncomfortable with that. But I quickly (or not so quickly) realized that the bed sank in the middle so that we each were forced into the middle of the bed. I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I switched to the smaller bed and slept much more soundly.
The next morning we went to a small church outside of town. It seemed very similar to the Jordan House Pentecostal Church except that there wasn’t nearly as much dancing around in the congregation and the preaching wasn’t nearly as loud and flamboyant. We got to sing for the congregation again. We sang “This Little Light of Mine” with hand motions because it was a simple song which we knew the words to. We did not want to make the same mistake as when we sang for the sewing girls last week. After the service we talked to many prominent members of the church in a separate room and drank pop (or soda for whomever prefers it). I have had so much pop here that I am sick of it. I don’t ever drink it at home, but sometimes it’s all there is to drink and it’s rude to turn down a drink or food when people offer them.
After lunch we were about to go on a boat ride on the lake, but it started to rain. Consequently, we waited for it to subside. Meanwhile, I read Harry Potter #2 (I’m going through the series a second time) and took a nice, long nap. It seems like I can never sleep past 6 am here, so naps are frequent. At around 3:30 we left on the boat. It was a serene ride and it was only a little bit chilly. We rode to an island which had a bat cave. It was pretty amazing. We did not visit the cave, but we didn’t need to; the bats streamed out of the cave and only grew larger in number when we clapped and yelled in encouragement. They seemed to like the attention. Camille (the girl with the greatest accent because she lived in England for 10 years) was hilarious because she kept screeching, holding onto me, and hiding behind me. As I looked up at them, I realized I should not gawk with my mouth open or I might receive an unpleasant present from the bats. We rode to another location and played volleyball with a really flat ball and a short net. But it was still fun. Others swam in the lake. I also got to pet a monkey which was roped to a tree. Kinda sad, but it was cute. All of us girls have this thing where we ask, ‘what is the first name of every animal?’ So the whole time I was thinking ‘rabies monkey’, but fortunately, it was friendly and enjoyed being scratched. That night the girls yelled and rooted for their favorite team while watching the football game (known as soccer in the states), while they also checked out the guys. Yeah, I was reading Harry Potter. Then we watched an episode of Felicity, which really isn’t that good (the plot especially), but for some reason, you still get sucked in.
Monday morning we left for the next location. We stopped at a church memorial along the way. I don’t know the name of the place. On the way, we had a bit of an accident. A man on a bike ran into one of the vans! I was in the van which was not hit, but it was pretty scary. This is how I think it happened, but I’m not sure if I am right since I was reading Harry potter (hee) and had to hear about the impact second hand. We had brought two vans along so that we would have plenty of room and we would not be squished together for the long journey. Technically, you can get 21 people in those vans, which counts the driver. But we had maybe 10 people in each.
Someone in the other lane was passing a car and so my van (which was in front of the other one) had to pull to the side a bit to let the car pass. Then the van behind us had to break really fast and so the biker slammed into the back of the vehicle (we were going downhill a bit) at full speed. Our van did not realize what happened for a minute until someone in our van said, “A bike hit their van!” And I was like ‘Huh?’ as I came out of my Harry Potter reverie. I looked back as our van pulled to the side and pulled backwards toward the other van. I could barely see a bicycle on the ground and some sandals on the road, with glass everywhere. But I clearly saw the rear window to the van almost completely gone. I had expected to see a man lying down on the ground unable to move, but instead the man was staggering around holding his head. He finally collapsed on the bank by the ditch.
I was very proud of the some of the girls from my group. Two of them are pre-med students, one of them is a trained lifeguard, and the other thinks she might become a pre-med student (Kirsten). Kirsten was amazing because she slapped some gloves on and treated his cuts. Stacy (the lifeguard) had a fully equipped first aid kit which they used to treat him. The pre-med students helped and they were able to treat all of his gashes. But they believed his nose was broken and he might have had a broken rib or two. Also, they were pretty sure he had a concussion, especially since he kept coming in and out of consciousness. Stacy kept checking the guy’s pulse and his breathing and was ready to use that Seal Easy if he stopped breathing. I did not come near to the man because too many people were crowded around him (besides the girls from our group, many Rwandans stopped to watch really close). Even though I was not near, I could still see that his head was bright red from the blood coming out of it. I was so proud of our girls. The man was finally taken away in a truck and the driver who was driving the van that was hit had to stay. As a result, the rest of us had to pile into the van so we had all 20 people in the one van. It was rather squishy. Luckily, the man was able to meet us at the place we were staying at. I had personally been afraid that there would be violent justice because sometimes when people hurt other people here, they try to take the law into their own hands. But he was fine.
When we arrived at the next location, in order to get to our rooms we had to walk a maze-like path. I didn’t think I’d remember how to get there again, but I succeeded. Then we left for a conference about peace building. It was a class taken by pastors from all over Rwanda. They talked about the church’s involvement in peace building and reconciliation. Most of us were falling asleep or making lists in our small notebooks in order to amuse ourselves. There was one man who kept trying to sneak pictures of us, but he wasn’t being very discreet. Afterwards they took us for a tour of the university which had a nice campus and could almost have been the George Fox University campus because of its style.
The next morning we visited the king’s palace. It was pretty cool. They had a building for beer, a building for, the king, a building for his wives, and a building for the milk. The building for the wives and daughters had men who took care of them but were eunuchs, for obvious reasons. It wouldn’t have been so awkward that he told us that, but he seemed so reluctant to say that word. It was pretty funny. Then when we went to the king’s building, there was a big bed and he said that a wife isn’t supposed to ‘jump him while he’s sleeping.’ We all laughed just because his wording was really funny. The buildings were really cool because we were huts with mats on the floor. Of course the king’s was the largest.
We drove home without any spectacular (or horrible) incidents this time and were glad to be back so we could take showers (because where we were before, the showers didn’t work very well). It was a nice weekend away from the Kigali guesthouse.
PHARP Women Rock My Socks
Sometime between October 4th and 6th
For class we visited PHARP which is a peace building program under Food for the Hungry. There was a small office in which there were sewing machines that were used by young women who sewed clothing to sell for income. Then we went to another place that did the same thing. There, we actually got to meet the young women, who were between 15 and 17, I think. All of the women had been impacted by the genocide because their families had been torn apart. They sang for us and then we sang for them. We sang the ever dreaded “Father Abraham” for them because it was requested. I felt like a white fool as my limbs twitched awkwardly. Thankfully, since we paused as a result of our forgetfulness, they started clapping so we were able to stop singing before it was over. Then we sang “Blessed Be Your Name” and forgot which verse went where, so it was rather muddled. But we able to get some harmonies in there. Since we were singing outside, we attracted quite a crowd of people from the neighborhood who stopped and stared and listened. Some children made faces at me and I made them back. Those same children tugged and gawked at my leg hair (yep, it’s been a while and I’m not sure if I should be ashamed or proud). After we sang, we attempted to speak with the young women. Unfortunately, only a few of them knew a couple words of English and only one girl in our group knows French, which is widely spoken in Rwanda as a result of the Belgian colonization. That was the very first time I felt like I really desired that I had learned French. I just remember my friend Nicole from high school learning French and me purposely read her homework with a horrible accent just so she could laugh at me. After all, I was learning Spanish, not French.
Before we left that place, Pastor Anastas, who has been our professor for this class in Rwanda, reminded us of something really good. He said that although it looks like these people are joyous and happy when they sing these songs, we still have to remember the terror they experienced and remember to help them out. They are Hutu and Tutsi who are living together and loving each other. I’d say that this is a true story of reconciliation among the peoples.
For class we visited PHARP which is a peace building program under Food for the Hungry. There was a small office in which there were sewing machines that were used by young women who sewed clothing to sell for income. Then we went to another place that did the same thing. There, we actually got to meet the young women, who were between 15 and 17, I think. All of the women had been impacted by the genocide because their families had been torn apart. They sang for us and then we sang for them. We sang the ever dreaded “Father Abraham” for them because it was requested. I felt like a white fool as my limbs twitched awkwardly. Thankfully, since we paused as a result of our forgetfulness, they started clapping so we were able to stop singing before it was over. Then we sang “Blessed Be Your Name” and forgot which verse went where, so it was rather muddled. But we able to get some harmonies in there. Since we were singing outside, we attracted quite a crowd of people from the neighborhood who stopped and stared and listened. Some children made faces at me and I made them back. Those same children tugged and gawked at my leg hair (yep, it’s been a while and I’m not sure if I should be ashamed or proud). After we sang, we attempted to speak with the young women. Unfortunately, only a few of them knew a couple words of English and only one girl in our group knows French, which is widely spoken in Rwanda as a result of the Belgian colonization. That was the very first time I felt like I really desired that I had learned French. I just remember my friend Nicole from high school learning French and me purposely read her homework with a horrible accent just so she could laugh at me. After all, I was learning Spanish, not French.
Before we left that place, Pastor Anastas, who has been our professor for this class in Rwanda, reminded us of something really good. He said that although it looks like these people are joyous and happy when they sing these songs, we still have to remember the terror they experienced and remember to help them out. They are Hutu and Tutsi who are living together and loving each other. I’d say that this is a true story of reconciliation among the peoples.
Churches of Refuge?
September 25th to October 3rd, 2007
(I can finally post my blogs! Hurray!)
I am sitting on the porch that connects to my room here in the guesthouse in Kigali, Rwanda. I have to admit, since I was able to come before anyone else, that I was able to pick the nicest room. It’s spacious and has a porch and a table. Very nice. The only complaint I have is that the beds are squeaky and since their bunk beds, that can be annoying sometimes.
As we continue to live in this city, I have continued to fall more in love with it. the people are very friendly and it is much less congested than Kampala, Uganda. We have had our one class about peace-building and issues of conflict and it has been pretty good. we constantly talk about the genocide. We have had two guest speakers now as well. yesterday we had a guest speaker who spoke about the church’s role in the genocide and how they’ve helped with reconciliation and things like that. I really enjoyed that and it will help with my presentation since my group is talking about that very subject.
This weekend was relaxing because I went to a coffee shop with some friends (Kate and Caitlin). I drank a whole cup of coffee myself, which is not usual at all. It was good for coffee. It was called a vanilla kawaccino. Then Caitlin and I walked around town and looked at shops. At one of the shops we met a guy named Paul and he was very nice. He seemed really genuine. The shop that he works at is owned by his aunt who helps women make money by teaching them how to make crafts. He said that we could come back any time and speak to him about the genocide. I was surprised that someone that we just met would be so open to talk about his experiences concerning this terrible ordeal. So Caitlin and I are going to return to his shop on Friday.
On Sunday, we didn’t attend church service, but instead, we got to attend trials. They are called the Gacaca Courts and the people who are tried there were allegedly involved in the genocide. The man whose trial we witnessed was accused of being in possession of firearms (because it is illegal in Rwanda) and providing them for other people. he was also dressed like the Interahamwe which is the trained Rwandan army that was killing people in the genocide. Some people said that although he had weapons, they never saw him do anything like kill people. Others said that he used his weapon to protect people. but who knows who is telling the truth. That is the difficult thing about those trials. The genocide happened 13 years ago so it’s hard to get the whole truth without it having become distorted over the years. But I can see that the courts are still a very positive thing in Rwanda. It helps people acquire some justice and get some closure.
For me, it is amazing to believe that genocide occurred in this country. It is so peaceful and the people are so friendly. You would never guess what happened. They have definitely come a long way from the genocide in so many ways. I even feel safer in this city than I do in Kampala. I think because it’s less overwhelming, less congested, and cleaner.
On Monday we went to two more memorials. The first one was a small church with a few buildings around it. They said that 5,000 people had been hiding in that church and had been killed with bullets and grenades and other terrible weapons. When they said 5,000 people I could not imagine it. It was a tiny church, possibly the size of a small chapel in America. We could see holes in the walls of building where grenades had been thrown in. There had to have been layer upon layer of bodies. They laid the bones of many of the people out for everyone to see. One shelf would have skulls and others would have other bones. A couple of coffins held the bones of many people. Hanging against the walls and from the ceiling was the clothing of the people. There were so many clothes! The clothes were dirty from years of weather and because they had once been on dead, decaying bodies. As I looked around I saw a small child’s dress. All of these innocent lives, gone. People had left baskets of flowers to remember the dead.
The next location was another church, but larger. 10,000 people had been hiding in that church and in the fenced in area that belonged to the church. All but two people were killed there. They were both young children. even though the church was about 4 times larger than the other one, I still could not imagine 10,000 people hiding in it. once again there were some bones laid out in the church and flowers. We observed many bullet holes and grenade shrapnel holes that had punctured the tin entry way. Some of the bars on the door had been broken off so they could throw the grenades in. Even the cement was eroded from the carnage. Below the church there was an area where bones were kept as well as some of the people’s personal items. There was a glass case so we could see even farther down that there was a coffin with a cross on it. It was an eerie, dark place. We were told that a lady was buried in it. She had been dug up and they saw the disgusting things that had happened to her. She had been stretched and torn and then a stick had been shoved up her private area. It was a gruesome story that made me shudder. It reminded me that this is only one of the horror stories of things that happened to these people.
Next, we visited the graves of two white people who had been killed and one of them was an Italian lady. She had been a journalist or at least some sort of communications person. She had tried to communicate with other countries about the horrors that were happening. When the government found out, they had her killed. Behind the church we visited a mass grave area where bones were either laid out or kept in coffins. I was glad that there were no bodies preserved so that they looked like they just died. I don’t know if I could have handled that. In some memorials they have thousands of bodies laid out with lime poured over them so they are preserved. Usually the pastor who teaches our class takes the students there, but he decided not to this time. I was glad.
So, on a happier note, (sorry to depress you again), Rwanda is slowly building peace and reconciliation. People are able to live side by side even if they do have a bit of hard feelings toward them. Many programs have been made to aid people who are impoverished and who have been traumatized by this experience. But there is still so much to be done. The government has realized its error and makes laws to make sure this doesn’t happen again and to take care of its people.
The guest speaker yesterday said something that really made sense and made me think. He said that one of the reasons that the people so willingly carried out the genocide was because the government ordered it and they always follow authority. This is because they believe that all authority comes from God. they get this from Romans 13 toward the beginning, I believe. While this can be a negative thing like it was in the genocide, it can also be a positive thing. Since the genocide, they have been working toward the good of all as a result of orders from the government. In other words, they obey whether it is for good or for evil. So when there are positive goals in mind, then they are able to carry them out very well. One of the stories he gave to me to illustrate this point was that one policeman with one gun is able to shepherd 100 or 200 prisoners at one time back to prison. They aren’t handcuffed or shackled in any way. I found this amazing, myself. In America this would never work because Americans have rebellion deeply rooted inside of their culture and lives. The guest speaker, his name is Antoine by the way, also said that although the people are obedient, that does not make them passive. They can be very passionate about things.
Antoine also said that the church’s role in the genocide was 'very confused.' There were some who had prophetic voices and spoke against it, but there were those who gave up their congregations to the killers for the cause of following authority in the name of God. usually those who spoke against it were killed. But the most interesting thing about it is that the most effective thing the church could have done is cried out. The catholic church was the major church here at the time and if they had gotten the news to the pope, he would have told them that it was against God’s will and because he is a huge authority, they would have stopped the killing. This shows how much of an impact the church can have on our world, whether for good or bad. Anyway, I have all this stuff running through my head and it interests me. I’m sorry if it doesn’t interest you, kind of. It is important for us all to know what is going on in the world. I have enjoyed my time in Kigali and I’m sure I will continue to enjoy it. This weekend we are going to a rural area, so I’m excited about that. Seeing more of this beautiful country will be an adventure.
(I can finally post my blogs! Hurray!)
I am sitting on the porch that connects to my room here in the guesthouse in Kigali, Rwanda. I have to admit, since I was able to come before anyone else, that I was able to pick the nicest room. It’s spacious and has a porch and a table. Very nice. The only complaint I have is that the beds are squeaky and since their bunk beds, that can be annoying sometimes.
As we continue to live in this city, I have continued to fall more in love with it. the people are very friendly and it is much less congested than Kampala, Uganda. We have had our one class about peace-building and issues of conflict and it has been pretty good. we constantly talk about the genocide. We have had two guest speakers now as well. yesterday we had a guest speaker who spoke about the church’s role in the genocide and how they’ve helped with reconciliation and things like that. I really enjoyed that and it will help with my presentation since my group is talking about that very subject.
This weekend was relaxing because I went to a coffee shop with some friends (Kate and Caitlin). I drank a whole cup of coffee myself, which is not usual at all. It was good for coffee. It was called a vanilla kawaccino. Then Caitlin and I walked around town and looked at shops. At one of the shops we met a guy named Paul and he was very nice. He seemed really genuine. The shop that he works at is owned by his aunt who helps women make money by teaching them how to make crafts. He said that we could come back any time and speak to him about the genocide. I was surprised that someone that we just met would be so open to talk about his experiences concerning this terrible ordeal. So Caitlin and I are going to return to his shop on Friday.
On Sunday, we didn’t attend church service, but instead, we got to attend trials. They are called the Gacaca Courts and the people who are tried there were allegedly involved in the genocide. The man whose trial we witnessed was accused of being in possession of firearms (because it is illegal in Rwanda) and providing them for other people. he was also dressed like the Interahamwe which is the trained Rwandan army that was killing people in the genocide. Some people said that although he had weapons, they never saw him do anything like kill people. Others said that he used his weapon to protect people. but who knows who is telling the truth. That is the difficult thing about those trials. The genocide happened 13 years ago so it’s hard to get the whole truth without it having become distorted over the years. But I can see that the courts are still a very positive thing in Rwanda. It helps people acquire some justice and get some closure.
For me, it is amazing to believe that genocide occurred in this country. It is so peaceful and the people are so friendly. You would never guess what happened. They have definitely come a long way from the genocide in so many ways. I even feel safer in this city than I do in Kampala. I think because it’s less overwhelming, less congested, and cleaner.
On Monday we went to two more memorials. The first one was a small church with a few buildings around it. They said that 5,000 people had been hiding in that church and had been killed with bullets and grenades and other terrible weapons. When they said 5,000 people I could not imagine it. It was a tiny church, possibly the size of a small chapel in America. We could see holes in the walls of building where grenades had been thrown in. There had to have been layer upon layer of bodies. They laid the bones of many of the people out for everyone to see. One shelf would have skulls and others would have other bones. A couple of coffins held the bones of many people. Hanging against the walls and from the ceiling was the clothing of the people. There were so many clothes! The clothes were dirty from years of weather and because they had once been on dead, decaying bodies. As I looked around I saw a small child’s dress. All of these innocent lives, gone. People had left baskets of flowers to remember the dead.
The next location was another church, but larger. 10,000 people had been hiding in that church and in the fenced in area that belonged to the church. All but two people were killed there. They were both young children. even though the church was about 4 times larger than the other one, I still could not imagine 10,000 people hiding in it. once again there were some bones laid out in the church and flowers. We observed many bullet holes and grenade shrapnel holes that had punctured the tin entry way. Some of the bars on the door had been broken off so they could throw the grenades in. Even the cement was eroded from the carnage. Below the church there was an area where bones were kept as well as some of the people’s personal items. There was a glass case so we could see even farther down that there was a coffin with a cross on it. It was an eerie, dark place. We were told that a lady was buried in it. She had been dug up and they saw the disgusting things that had happened to her. She had been stretched and torn and then a stick had been shoved up her private area. It was a gruesome story that made me shudder. It reminded me that this is only one of the horror stories of things that happened to these people.
Next, we visited the graves of two white people who had been killed and one of them was an Italian lady. She had been a journalist or at least some sort of communications person. She had tried to communicate with other countries about the horrors that were happening. When the government found out, they had her killed. Behind the church we visited a mass grave area where bones were either laid out or kept in coffins. I was glad that there were no bodies preserved so that they looked like they just died. I don’t know if I could have handled that. In some memorials they have thousands of bodies laid out with lime poured over them so they are preserved. Usually the pastor who teaches our class takes the students there, but he decided not to this time. I was glad.
So, on a happier note, (sorry to depress you again), Rwanda is slowly building peace and reconciliation. People are able to live side by side even if they do have a bit of hard feelings toward them. Many programs have been made to aid people who are impoverished and who have been traumatized by this experience. But there is still so much to be done. The government has realized its error and makes laws to make sure this doesn’t happen again and to take care of its people.
The guest speaker yesterday said something that really made sense and made me think. He said that one of the reasons that the people so willingly carried out the genocide was because the government ordered it and they always follow authority. This is because they believe that all authority comes from God. they get this from Romans 13 toward the beginning, I believe. While this can be a negative thing like it was in the genocide, it can also be a positive thing. Since the genocide, they have been working toward the good of all as a result of orders from the government. In other words, they obey whether it is for good or for evil. So when there are positive goals in mind, then they are able to carry them out very well. One of the stories he gave to me to illustrate this point was that one policeman with one gun is able to shepherd 100 or 200 prisoners at one time back to prison. They aren’t handcuffed or shackled in any way. I found this amazing, myself. In America this would never work because Americans have rebellion deeply rooted inside of their culture and lives. The guest speaker, his name is Antoine by the way, also said that although the people are obedient, that does not make them passive. They can be very passionate about things.
Antoine also said that the church’s role in the genocide was 'very confused.' There were some who had prophetic voices and spoke against it, but there were those who gave up their congregations to the killers for the cause of following authority in the name of God. usually those who spoke against it were killed. But the most interesting thing about it is that the most effective thing the church could have done is cried out. The catholic church was the major church here at the time and if they had gotten the news to the pope, he would have told them that it was against God’s will and because he is a huge authority, they would have stopped the killing. This shows how much of an impact the church can have on our world, whether for good or bad. Anyway, I have all this stuff running through my head and it interests me. I’m sorry if it doesn’t interest you, kind of. It is important for us all to know what is going on in the world. I have enjoyed my time in Kigali and I’m sure I will continue to enjoy it. This weekend we are going to a rural area, so I’m excited about that. Seeing more of this beautiful country will be an adventure.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
A Memorial
September 25th, 2007
Today was a rather difficult day emotionally. We went to a Rwandan genocide memorial here in town. Not many people know about the genocide or even realize that it was genocide. They like to call it a civil war. In reality, the Hutus were wiping out the Tutsis. The two ethnicities lived side by side peacefully, even intermarrying, before they were colonized.
This is how it started out. The Germans first entered
Over many instances and many years, the Hutus would gang up on the Tutsis and kill some of them off.
My favorite part of the memorial was the stories of mercy within all the hatred and killing. There were those who risked their lives to save others. They hid people and fed people. I wondered if I would have been merciful enough, brave enough to do the same for my fellow people, whether they were the ‘other’ ethnicity or not. I hoped that I would be that good. But then I realized that no one is good. We are all capable of doing horrible things. Then I also realized that we have to forgive those who took part in the killings of the thousands of people that died in the genocide. There should be justice, yes, but there should also be forgiveness. A really cool quote from the genocide memorial said, “There is no forgiveness without justice, there is not justice without humanity, and there is no humanity without forgiveness.” I’m not sure if I am remembering this quote correctly and I can’t remember who said it, but it’s something like that. But this also applies to us in the
After we read all of the information about the genocide, there was a memorial to the children of
Then there was a section that talked about the major genocides that have happened in the world, such as the Jews, the Armenians, the Cambodians, the Namibians, and many more. It reminded me of how fallen our world is and how none of us can have all the blame put on us. While we would like to blame the Germans and Hitler for so many problems and for genocide, he is not the only person and
After all of that, we were free to wander the grounds and look at the burial sites. There were platforms of cement covering the graves, so we could not see any bodies. One of the graves had a portion of it uncovered, but there were coffins inside. As I walked the beautiful grounds, I wondered if there was even a rock or a tree that remained from the time of the genocide that could tell the story of that horrific time. There was not a dry eye in that place when we were through.
I can tell you that this course in peace building is going to have a huge impact on my life and how I view the world. I will definitely become more aware of events that are happening in the world. One of the things that we mentioned to the professor beforehand was that we had never really heard much about the Rwandan genocide before. And our professor said, “Well, you have to separate society’s responsibility for informing you and your own responsibility to seek out information about the world.” He said something to that degree. They are not his exact words. But I realized how wrapped up I become in my own American life and my own little American world that I forget about what is happening in this big world. I don’t take the time to read the news or watch the news in order to keep up on the events of the world.
Now I am at home and I look out on our beautiful view of the city and imagine what it might have been like. I imagine gunshots firing all around, people yelling and screaming, bombs going off, and people being betrayed by their good friends right and left. But this concept is so foreign to me. I have never been in such a situation, so I cannot fathom it. I cannot imagine my own friends turning me in to my enemies or killing me.
We will be visiting many more sites about the genocide and we will be doing a presentation on the causes and effects of the genocide. My group is doing ours on the impact of the church. I am especially interested in this aspect. We would like to go to a prison and interview people about their part in the genocide, but we’ll see if that’s possible. The other aspects that groups are doing are the international community and the government. I look forward to seeing those presentations and learning more.
Tonight I will be telling my life story to the girls, so that oughta be real interesting. Right. Anyway, I’m sorry if I depressed you. Kinda. Thanks again for reading. It’s fun writing, knowing that people are reading.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Greasy, Grimy, Gross
September 18th to September 24th
I sat staring at my dirty feet while clutching my stomach hoping that I wouldn’t puke or have diarrhea again. Then I looked in the mirror and saw my greasy hair and I knew that at this moment, that I was the dirtiest and felt the grossest that I had ever felt in my life.
You see, on Tuesday the 18th, we found out that the city was going to work on our water system and so we did not have any water for bathing or flushing the toilets upstairs. At first we thought that we had a tank with a water reserve of 5,000 gallons in it, but when Bruce and Kenny checked the tank, it was near to empty. So from Tuesday to Friday last week we didn’t have water. My greasiness was not only a contribution of not having showered since Monday, but also, having played volleyball with Caitlin on Tuesday and played soccer with the girls and Kenny on Wednesday. I could feel the grime of sweat and dirt caked on my face.
But it was worth it. The game of soccer was very competitive with all of us girls disputing nearly every goal. By the end of the game, we weren’t sure who had won because we didn’t know which goals to actually count. I am proud to say that I scored two goals. =) although one of them the other team didn’t want to count because the goalie had left for some reason. But of course, I still count it.
On Thursday of last week I packed my stuff for our
The next morning, Friday morning, the rest of the girls left for
Saturday I spent watching all three ‘Back to the Future’ movies and marveling and the acting skills and the use of ‘butthead’ as an insult. That evening I was able to have my only real meal of the weekend with the Nisleys. It was a delicious meal of pasta, bread, shish kabobs, and cookies. Mhmmm. On Sunday I was still feeling a bit sick, so I laid around some more and then went with the Nisleys to an American club. We played volleyball (it was pretty much a miracle that I had the energy to do that). Everyone swam while I sat on the deck. I bought a Snickers bar which cost me about a $1.50, but it was worth it. It tasted so good. Later that evening I was taken by Bruce to the airport so I could go to
On the flight the man I sat next to was really nice and really helpful. He was born and raised in
As we drove to the guesthouse, I realized that
That night I went to bed happy that I would see all my girls again and content that I no longer had stomach problems. The next morning (Monday) I laid around, read a book, talked to Melissa (the other girl who picked me up and who helps us out around here), and took a walk with Melissa. The girls finally arrived around 4 pm and I was greeted with smiles and hugs. It was good to see them again. It was nice to know I was missed. They told me a bunch of stories about all the animals they saw on the safari. It sounded pretty cool, but I knew it was wise that I didn’t spend 4 days on a bus with how I felt. That evening I had my second meal since Thursday, which was very nice (I had been scrounging and snacking).
While I don’t believe it was the food that made me sick, because everyone else would have been sick too, I still never want to see Ethiopian food again. No one wants to eat food they’ve puked before. Just ask my mom and how she will never eat that wonderful chili and cream cheese dip that we all love because she had to clean it up after my sister puked it up. Anyway, enough about that. I am a little more nervous about going to
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Pentecostal Preaching
Saturday, September 15th, 2007 – Sunday, September 16th, 2007
This weekend was a busy one. Friday after class was spent hanging out at a café in downtown Kampala at which I had a chocolate shake which tasted like chocolate milk. It was good, but it definitely wasn’t an American shake.
Saturday morning a bunch of us were driven all over Kampala to see different sites. Grace, a 20 year old Ugandan man, showed us the houses that he has helped to build. The first one he had been working on for three years and the second one had taken 10 years to build. You see, they don’t save up money and then build the house. Instead, they wait till they have some money, then they build until they don’t have anymore money for building, then when they get more money, they build more. The houses were simple; made of brick with dirt floors. The houses that he helps build are for children; usually orphans. The children who live in those houses range from 12 to 17. They all live together, grow food together, work together, and study together. There are about two adults who help take care of them. This very young man called Grace financially supports all of this, supports his own family, and puts himself through school. This is no small feat. He needs much help. Consequently, many of us want to help him financially so he can get through school and we want to sponsor some of his kids (they’re not his children, but ones that he helps). I was very impressed with him because he has done so much and yet he is so young! One the way to those houses we had another fun experience on the muddy roads in a matatu. We got stuck once and many people stopped to help us out. Gotta love the rural roads around here.
After we saw those places, we went to Grace’s family’s house and watched a video that past students had taken while they were there. Then they turned on music and started dancing. They encouraged us to dance as well. So we did. Really, all you need to do is shake your booty and they say that you’re good at dancing, so that’s what we did. Shook our booties and moved our arms. Some of those little kids were actually good at dancing though. There were so many kids! When I asked Grace’s mother where to use the restroom, she talked to me along the way about needing sponsors for her children. It’s so hard when people put you on the spot like that because you want to help, but it feels awkward when people ask you to your face. I guess it is completely different than those commercials on TV from like World Vision or something which you can just ignore. But at the same time, we are students who aren’t loaded (in fact, we are in major debt), so we can only help so many people. I would like to personally sponsor ONE child, but I am still trying to figure out who I should sponsor. Probably one of Grace’s kids.
After we visited at that house, we saw the Boys and Girls Brigade which is a musical group. They play brass instruments and drums. It was interesting. They each gave us necklaces. Then we finally saw the Mengo Boys which was the whole purpose for the day. Unfortunately, we were not able to spend much time there because we had to be back for dinner. Kate passed out gifts that were from the students that came last semester and they were very grateful. There was candy, musical instruments, soccer gear, and many other things. The Mengo boys are also a musical group, but we were unable to listen to them because many of them were at a meeting. So we left with promises of return.
On Sunday I went to Jordan House Pentecostal Church which is at the orphanage we went to. As we were nearing the church we could hear the wonderful beat of the drums and the voices of the people loud and clear. I could feel my pulse quicken and I knew I was at a true African church. It was so cool. When we entered we saw that the drums were the only instruments used. There was a song leader, but the song leader changed constantly throughout the singing. They sang for at least an hour, maybe more. Fortunately, they sang English songs as well as Lugandan songs. Then Caitlin, Camille, Anna, Kate, and I were introduced to the people. We had to sing a song. We sang ‘Every Move I Make’ with hand motions. They loved it and they thanked us for singing. There was a translator for whenever they spoke or prayed, so that was nice for us. The preacher preached with fervor and was definitely yelling and waving his hands around. At that point I really felt like I was in a Pentecostal/African church. Even the translator followed the preacher around and mimicked his every move and tone of voice. It was rather entertaining. The message was about Jesus’ ability to help and heal people. As I listened to the preaching, a baby girl was set on my lap and I tried to entertain her because usually babies cry when I hold them. Fortunately, this one seemed to like me. But it was only a few minutes before she was drooling, pulling my hair, and making loud noises. Oh, and wiggling. Finally, she spit up and a girl took her from me. She was adorable.
After the service we were invited to lunch, so we once again took part in a wonderful Ugandan meal. They said it would be a small meal, but here a small meal or a snack is not small. So of course I was stuffed afterwards. We were able to talk to the couple who started Jordan House and they were very gracious. Whenever a woman or child came in to give us water or food, he or she would kneel as they handed us the items. It is customary and respectful. I am doing my economics paper about the Jordan House, so I will return many times to interview them.
Later that evening we went to the Nisley’s for dinner and made pizza and cookies. I made the cookies and I have to admit that they were very good. Of course, I’m not the one who made the recipe, but we’ll ignore that fact. I had our field assistant come as well (Josephats) and I taught him Rummikub. After visiting at the Nisley’s Caitlin, Sarah, Josephats, and I had gelato at the Italian market. This was Josephats’ first time having it and he said it was ok. It was interesting because Josephats said that ice cream is considered more of a woman’s dessert. Also, Ugandans usually don’t eat dessert, but instead, eat fruit. Josephats invited us to come to his house and he will teach us how to make a certain type of fish I think it was some kind of perch), chapati (probably our favorite Ugandan food. It’s kind of like pita bread, only better), and matoke.
There are many questions that I have been wrestling about when it comes to poverty because of the living conditions we have seen around here. Why are some people blessed with so much while so many people have so little? At the same time, I am learning that it is ok that I live like I do because that is my culture and I was born into it. It is not evil. It is only when how we live negatively effects other people that we have to rethink how we live. Also, we need to always help others. Another question I have asked is why do we think we have to have so much? Here, so many people only have a couple pairs of clothes, some food, a small roof over their heads, a couple chairs, and that’s about it. But not everyone here lives like that. That is one misconception about Africa. Not everyone is dirt poor and living in dire conditions. But a large percentage is. But the amazing thing is that so many of them are so happy and they don’t know any different from what they have. These are only a few things that run through my head. Fortunately, I have many people I can talk to about this while I’m here and it helps a lot.
Well, that’s all for now folks. Talk to you again soon.
Leilani
This weekend was a busy one. Friday after class was spent hanging out at a café in downtown Kampala at which I had a chocolate shake which tasted like chocolate milk. It was good, but it definitely wasn’t an American shake.
Saturday morning a bunch of us were driven all over Kampala to see different sites. Grace, a 20 year old Ugandan man, showed us the houses that he has helped to build. The first one he had been working on for three years and the second one had taken 10 years to build. You see, they don’t save up money and then build the house. Instead, they wait till they have some money, then they build until they don’t have anymore money for building, then when they get more money, they build more. The houses were simple; made of brick with dirt floors. The houses that he helps build are for children; usually orphans. The children who live in those houses range from 12 to 17. They all live together, grow food together, work together, and study together. There are about two adults who help take care of them. This very young man called Grace financially supports all of this, supports his own family, and puts himself through school. This is no small feat. He needs much help. Consequently, many of us want to help him financially so he can get through school and we want to sponsor some of his kids (they’re not his children, but ones that he helps). I was very impressed with him because he has done so much and yet he is so young! One the way to those houses we had another fun experience on the muddy roads in a matatu. We got stuck once and many people stopped to help us out. Gotta love the rural roads around here.
After we saw those places, we went to Grace’s family’s house and watched a video that past students had taken while they were there. Then they turned on music and started dancing. They encouraged us to dance as well. So we did. Really, all you need to do is shake your booty and they say that you’re good at dancing, so that’s what we did. Shook our booties and moved our arms. Some of those little kids were actually good at dancing though. There were so many kids! When I asked Grace’s mother where to use the restroom, she talked to me along the way about needing sponsors for her children. It’s so hard when people put you on the spot like that because you want to help, but it feels awkward when people ask you to your face. I guess it is completely different than those commercials on TV from like World Vision or something which you can just ignore. But at the same time, we are students who aren’t loaded (in fact, we are in major debt), so we can only help so many people. I would like to personally sponsor ONE child, but I am still trying to figure out who I should sponsor. Probably one of Grace’s kids.
After we visited at that house, we saw the Boys and Girls Brigade which is a musical group. They play brass instruments and drums. It was interesting. They each gave us necklaces. Then we finally saw the Mengo Boys which was the whole purpose for the day. Unfortunately, we were not able to spend much time there because we had to be back for dinner. Kate passed out gifts that were from the students that came last semester and they were very grateful. There was candy, musical instruments, soccer gear, and many other things. The Mengo boys are also a musical group, but we were unable to listen to them because many of them were at a meeting. So we left with promises of return.
On Sunday I went to Jordan House Pentecostal Church which is at the orphanage we went to. As we were nearing the church we could hear the wonderful beat of the drums and the voices of the people loud and clear. I could feel my pulse quicken and I knew I was at a true African church. It was so cool. When we entered we saw that the drums were the only instruments used. There was a song leader, but the song leader changed constantly throughout the singing. They sang for at least an hour, maybe more. Fortunately, they sang English songs as well as Lugandan songs. Then Caitlin, Camille, Anna, Kate, and I were introduced to the people. We had to sing a song. We sang ‘Every Move I Make’ with hand motions. They loved it and they thanked us for singing. There was a translator for whenever they spoke or prayed, so that was nice for us. The preacher preached with fervor and was definitely yelling and waving his hands around. At that point I really felt like I was in a Pentecostal/African church. Even the translator followed the preacher around and mimicked his every move and tone of voice. It was rather entertaining. The message was about Jesus’ ability to help and heal people. As I listened to the preaching, a baby girl was set on my lap and I tried to entertain her because usually babies cry when I hold them. Fortunately, this one seemed to like me. But it was only a few minutes before she was drooling, pulling my hair, and making loud noises. Oh, and wiggling. Finally, she spit up and a girl took her from me. She was adorable.
After the service we were invited to lunch, so we once again took part in a wonderful Ugandan meal. They said it would be a small meal, but here a small meal or a snack is not small. So of course I was stuffed afterwards. We were able to talk to the couple who started Jordan House and they were very gracious. Whenever a woman or child came in to give us water or food, he or she would kneel as they handed us the items. It is customary and respectful. I am doing my economics paper about the Jordan House, so I will return many times to interview them.
Later that evening we went to the Nisley’s for dinner and made pizza and cookies. I made the cookies and I have to admit that they were very good. Of course, I’m not the one who made the recipe, but we’ll ignore that fact. I had our field assistant come as well (Josephats) and I taught him Rummikub. After visiting at the Nisley’s Caitlin, Sarah, Josephats, and I had gelato at the Italian market. This was Josephats’ first time having it and he said it was ok. It was interesting because Josephats said that ice cream is considered more of a woman’s dessert. Also, Ugandans usually don’t eat dessert, but instead, eat fruit. Josephats invited us to come to his house and he will teach us how to make a certain type of fish I think it was some kind of perch), chapati (probably our favorite Ugandan food. It’s kind of like pita bread, only better), and matoke.
There are many questions that I have been wrestling about when it comes to poverty because of the living conditions we have seen around here. Why are some people blessed with so much while so many people have so little? At the same time, I am learning that it is ok that I live like I do because that is my culture and I was born into it. It is not evil. It is only when how we live negatively effects other people that we have to rethink how we live. Also, we need to always help others. Another question I have asked is why do we think we have to have so much? Here, so many people only have a couple pairs of clothes, some food, a small roof over their heads, a couple chairs, and that’s about it. But not everyone here lives like that. That is one misconception about Africa. Not everyone is dirt poor and living in dire conditions. But a large percentage is. But the amazing thing is that so many of them are so happy and they don’t know any different from what they have. These are only a few things that run through my head. Fortunately, I have many people I can talk to about this while I’m here and it helps a lot.
Well, that’s all for now folks. Talk to you again soon.
Leilani
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