pigs and kids

I'm glad that Ian wrote about the lovely Conservative Baptist man that we met. He should have known that we weren't his type when he saw that I was in jeans at church. I avoid men like that but I don't avoid all westerners. Tonight, Ian and I are venturing out to the American Club. I've never been and have always been turned off by the fact you have to have an American passport to enter but it seems like something I should experience at least once. They have free movies on Fridays and there's not much else to do in Kigali so we'll try it.

Our days are getting busier so it's nice to relax sometimes. The evaluations for Kabuga and Gasabo need to be done soon but everything moves slower here and we haven't collected all of the ones we need. We don't always get accurate information either. Many of the widows had children after the genocide but don't have husbands. Very few men will marry a widow and so these women get lonely and find a "husband" for just a short time. It provides companionship and much needed money. The problem is that the man usually leaves when the child is born and then the woman is alone again with another mouth to feed. There are many (over 50) of these children in the sponsorship program at Solace. The problem is that the widows are ashamed to tell this Christian organization that they had a child out of wedlock so they will lie and put the name of their dead husband as the father's name of the sponsorship forms. This leads Solace and the sponsors to think they are sponsoring a genocide orphan when they aren't. These children still deserve sponsorship because they are abandonded and at-risk but it's important to me that the sponsors get an accurate description of their sponsorship child. Now I'm trying to get a more accurate description of the children before Ian's evaluation is due.

That's my little rant about research. Our days aren't all work though. I got to go to Ruhengeri yesterday to look at pigs. Solace is going to start a pig project there. The pigs multiply fast, they produce lots of fertilizer, they can be sold in the market for good money and they are easy to raise. However, Solace doesn't have a pig project going already because very few widows are willing to take pigs. Everyone wants cows because cows represent wealth and status. Pigs don't do the same thing. It's nice that the widows and orphans are willing to stop thinking about what makes them look rich and start thinking about what will actually bring them money. The pig are also cheap to buy - $1.50 a kilo. You can buy a six-month-old pig for less than $30. I went with Ben and he also let me drive most of the way home. It was 1.5 hours on winding roads up and down the hills in a pick-up. It was great. We even stopped on the way to buy sugar cane from village kids. They cut it straight from the field for us. It was $.30 for 4 stalks.

When I got home from Ruhengeri, Ian and I did our nightly jog/walk. We took a new route and when we got to one area, about 20 minutes from the guesthouse, we saw this group of kids pop out of the bush. They starting jumping in a circle, dancing and shouting "abazungu, abazungu" which means "foreigner." The youngest was less than 2 and the oldest child was no more than 5. They ran to us and walked with us, holding our hands and petting us, for about 10 minutes. They were adorable. I think it was the most fun I've had with street children in Rwanda.

Becky forgot to tell one of her shining moments of last week. We went to the opening of a new Baptist Seminary this last Sunday to get some shots for Becky's mom who had done some teaching in the uncompleted building while she was here. As soon as we entered we met this guy who was a Baptist preacher from the states. We knew immediately that he had a slightly more conservative perspective than we were comfortable with. Unfortunately we were seated next to him during the ceremony. He went on to tell us how he has been in the country for four years and that he can give us the "white/foreign perspective" if we wanted it. He also revealed that despite the fact he has been here for four years he hasn't learned the language. I think I know more Kinyarwanda than this guy. The church he started is the sort that things the King James' Bible is the inspired word of God. When we were leaving we asked him about his church and he said that they are, and I quote, "Conservative, right-wing, fundamentalist Baptists." He then asked us if we'd ever heard of them before. Without missing a beat Becky said, "Yeah, my mom's a Baptist pastor." He didn't have much else to say after that. It was brilliant.

It's my turn now. I don't have an update on my research, just a comment on my t-shirt. It really is a great shirt. The first national presidential elections in Rwanda since the war were at the end of 2003. I was here at the beginnig of 2004 and saw all of the men on the street who had these shirts with Paul Kagame's face on them. I love Kagame and really wanted one but no one could tell me where to get them. They had been passing them out during the campaign but now you couldn't find a new one anywhere. Finally, the day before I left, I found them. Someone knew someone who knew someone who owned a wedding store with a small section dedicated to RPF paraphenalia. There were t-shirts and pins and flags. It was great. I've never been able to find that store again but I have my shirt. It even survived the fire. I wore it again last night and again, the kids didn't demand money. It's as if they know Kagame would be disappointed in them if they asked so they stay away when I wear the shirt with his face.

That's the latest news here. Ian and I are working on the story of Ben today. He works at Solace and will be going to an American conference on forgiveness in July. We're editing his story and creating a summary for him to present. He wants to turn it into a book later. It's an amazing story so I hope that actually happens.

When you need a little respect...

...wear a t-shirt with Paul Kagame on it. At least that's what we discovered today. Becky and I went for an evening jog which would normally be quite an event. We already stick out a lot and attract large crowds of school children during that time of day. Wearing shorts and t-shirts normally doesn't help matters much...unless your t-shirt has a picture of the President of Rwanda and former RPF (Rwandan army) General on it. Becky got the t-shirt three years ago when Kagame was running for President (an election he "surprisingly" won with a mere 95% of the vote). Before leaving to run I asked her to please not wear it because it would attract even more attention than usual, but she persisted so we went for our jog. It soon became apparent that while we were a spectacle it was very different that usual. Instead of calling us white people and daring each other to talk to us or touch us the school children kept a healthy distance. Instead of looking Becky up and down and hissing at her men kept quiet and only glanced at her. The shirt apparently had the magical quality of putting fear in the hearts of Rwandans. At one point Becky overheard a child saying to another one in Kinyarwanda, "they're not white people, they're Rwandans!" I will be on the lookout for my very own Paul Kagame t-shirt.

That was the most exciting thing that happened today. Becky has some things to report about her research that are pretty cool...I think. I'll let her do that.

Now an update from Becky. I've been lazy and letting Ian do all the work but now it's my turn. Sorry, this won't be as interesting as the Gisenyi trip. No gun fights this week. We've both been spending most of our time doing actual work. I'm starting to analyze the orphan's stories for my dissertation. I ask them to tell me the history of Rwanda and their own history. The stories have been informative in what they don't say. They're shorter than what I would like but I'm retraining my translator and hopefully I'll get some longer ones soon. It seems that the orphans can't think of Rwanda before 1959, when their families started to get persecuted. It's like time didn't begin until the conflicts started. It's the same way with their own stories. Most can't remember life before 1994, except to say that it was peaceful and they had families. Life really only exists around violence for them.

Yesterday, I crashed the first annual conference on psycho-social interventions for vulnerable people. It was at the hotel near my office. No one bothered to ask if I was invited because they assumed any foreigner there was supposed to be there. Ian even came for lunch and no one noticed that he was eating without ever going to a seminar. I even got some documents on orphans and potential interventions that goes really well with my research. I also met the chair of the psychology department at the national university in Rwanda. He said he'd give me a job when I finished my dissertation. It was a nice thought even though my research would probably prohibit me every working for the government university. It doesn't quite follow the party line and the government can be a little strict with that sort of thing. He's got my contact info and asked me to come visit him in Butare while I'm here so we'll see what happens.

Gunfights and Sunburns: Tales from a Bordertown Vacation

Despite the somewhat negative title we actually had a really great vacation in Gisenyi. We spent three days there that each went something like this. Wake up, eat breakfast, walk to beach hotel, lay out, order coffee, read, drink coffee, read, swim, lay out/read, swim, order drink, play cards, layout/read, eat something, sleep/layout, swim, dry off, walk back to guest house, shower, eat dinner, play cards, go to sleep. Not too bad. There were only three negative aspects: 1) the gunfight near our guesthouse (which is not unlike Worcester except in Worcester you are not concerned about guerrillas spilling over the border from the DRC or New Hampshire); 2) being verbally ravaged by primary schoolers who could make a drill sargent blush; 3) taking my malaria medicine (which makes me sensitive to the sun) and laying out for a day without putting sunscreen on my legs (see picture). We thought about crossing over into DRC for a day but there really isn't anything to do there just for a day besides getting another stamp in our passports for $35. If we had had time it would have been fun to climb the volcano and camp out in the crater. Also apparently you can see gorillas in DRC for a discount price from Rwanda but you also have to be careful of the other guerrillas.

Now we are back and hard at work. I'm actually getting to do some work for my personal research and Becky is spending most of her time entering data for her work.

New Job, Kabuga, Sponsoring a University Student and Trip to the Beach

Photo: some sposored orphans from Kabuga

This week was relatively uneventful except for a few things. I (Ian) was offered free lodging and a small stipend in return for an increase in my work load at Solace. Instead of just doing two evaluations I will do one more and write a new 5-year strategic plan for the organization. The director liked the evaluation plan I wrote for Kabuga so much that he apparently thought I could do all of these other things too.

We went to Kabuga this week to pass out surveys to widows and a few child-headed households that have children in the sponsorship program. I was very impressed by how these genocide survivors have rallied together to support each other and provide for each other. The community organization is made up of widows and genocide orphans (13 - 31 years old now) and Solace basically came along side this group to help with what they were already doing for each other. There is a great difference in the prosperity of this group compared to Gasabo where Solace is hoping to expand the child sponsorship program. Part of this is due to the proximity to Kigali but some is also a testimony to the success of these survivors.

Despite the success of the sponsorship program for children under 12 who are the children of survivors, Becky has noted that the actual orphans of the genocide are receiving less and less assistance. An actual orphan of the genocide will be over 13 today. Many are about our age but spent the time of their lives when they would normally get an education raising siblings and/or other genocide survivors. Now they are too old to be sponsored and have few practical skills that could help them improve their own livelihoods. Becky and I discussed trying to help develop a program whereby some of this "kids" can receive at least some sort of skills training. It seems a small thing to do for some amazing self-sacrificial people who gave up so much of themselves to provide for others.

Today I conducted my first interview for my personal research. I've decided to interview Tutsis (since those are who Solace works with) who are returnees to Rwanda. I thought it would be interesting to get a sample of different returnees who had fled at different periods in Rwanda's history and then returned. 1959, 1973 and 1994 are three years where a lot of Tutsis had to flee due to persecution and massacres. I want to get an idea of how governments and aid organizations reintegrate groups of people.

Anyway, the woman we interviewed today is actually a 28-year old genocide orphan. Her immediate family was massacred and through a miraculous series of events she was able to make it to Goma in what was then Zaire (now Dem Rep of Congo). She was repatriated in 1999 after having completed secondary school in the DRC. Her goal when she returned was to go to University. Though her extended family had the means they refused to pay for her and still horribly mistreat her. They forced her to sign away her father's land to them or else they would kill her. The government programs meant to help survivors also turned her down for assistance. Through the help of others and her own very hard work she has managed to finish two years of a four year degree. However, the man who has been helping her has had to stop paying because his wife is now going to university and he cannot afford both. This man is actually the one who set the interview up for me. Before we started interviewing her (Becky was my translator in French) we had already decided that we would at least like to pay for her two remaining trimesters for this year. I am considering sponsoring her for the last six trimesters but wanted to ask any of you if you would like to help this sharp woman finish her studies. Send me an email at idezalia@clarku.edu if you are interested. It would be pretty informal as we are sending the money to the man who had been supporting her and they are paying her. No IRS tax break on this one for those of you who care.

As the title of this post suggests, Becky and I will be taking a trip to the beaches of lake Kivu with another American this weekend. Our bus leaves early tomorrow (Saturday) morning and if everything goes right we will be laying on the beach by noon. The city we are going to is called Gisenyi which is just across the border from Goma, DRC. We may take a day trip into Goma but haven't decided yet. It should be a good little trip and there will be plenty of work waiting for us when we return.

pictures from Gahini

Here are the pictures I promised from the boys at Gahini. Habimana is the tallest boy, Vedaste is the smaller of the older boys and Gilbert is the young one. There is a picture of Habimana from my last trip to Rwanda, when I first met him. There really is a huge change in him now that he's in school and actually has some hope for his future. This was the first time I had ever seen him smile.

gasabo

Here is an update on our last trip to Gasabo.

We went on Wednesday to collect data for my (Becky) research. There were about 15 orphans who I had interviewed 5 years ago and about 40 new orphans. It took us 1.5 hours to get to Gasabo (a 25 mile trip) because of how slow the taxis work. We had to take one from Kacyiru to Remera (waiting 20 minutes for it to arrive) and then another one from Remera to Kabuga. We would have had to take a 3rd taxi from Kabuga to Gasabo but we were running so late that we took motorbike taxis instead. I highly recommend motorbikes for travel in the village.

We spent most of the day watching orphans fill out surveys although Ian did get to play volleyball with one orphan. I also got to see Dorcas, an orphan who had me be a bridesmaid in her wedding 5 years ago. She has 2 kids now and she brought them all the way to the meeting so I could see them and she could do my survey.

On the way back we had a fun experience in the taxi that Ian will talk about.

Ian: So we got in a "taxi" which is actually a van stuffed with about 19 people. As muzungu (white people) we gather quite a crowd in a little village. A troubadour of sorts came by to serenade us (see picture). He wasn't really posing for this picture...he really looks like that and was completely playing the role of the crazy street musician. Everyone around us was laughing at his little display for us which involved some intense head rolling, pelvic thrusts and sticking his tongue through the hole left by his missing front teeth. He got a good laugh and 100 francs out of us. We got a picture and a good story.

First update from Ian

It looks like Becky has done a pretty good job of updating for the two of us but I thought I'd throw my two cents in too. I am really enjoying my time here so far. Rwanda has been called the land of eternal spring because the weather is always between 60 and 80 degrees. No need for AC or heating. I really like Kigali too. As far as capital cities are concerned it is pretty laid back and people are not too pushy. Even though I stick out like a sore thumb people mostly only are curious about me so I don't mind the long stares and the constant shouting of "white person" in kinyarwandan. Apparently Kigali is one of the safest large cities in Africa which so far I can understand.

I've enjoyed learning more about Solace and the work they do. I've been neck deep in learning more about the 1994 Genocide. What I thought I knew is nothing compared to being here in person, meeting survivors (many with obvious physical and emotional scars) and imaging what this city and the countryside would have looked like with hundreds of thousands of bodies piled up on the roads.

I haven't begun my own research yet because I have been really focused on the project I will be doing for Solace (Becky explained it in her last post). So far I have only prepared an evaluation plan which means I have been in front of the computer. I did get to spend a few hours in Kabuga where the evaluation will take place. I was there when Solace made the final arrangements in the purchase of more land for a demonstration farm, a clinic and a warehouse for the area. They are hoping that as Kigali expands Kabuga (which is just on the outskirts of Kigali) will become a regional center for their work in addition to the offices here in Kigali. Much of the funding from child sponsorship goes towards community development projects like that which are beneficial to everyone. I'm hopeful that the evaluation I help conduct will in a small way benefit them.

I guess that's it for now. I don't have a camera anymore so I'll get Becky to take some pictures and we will post those soon.

I am waiting to interview some Kigali orphans and Ian is off in Kabuga so I'll write an update for our eventful weekend. On Friday, my mother and I went to Gahini to see Vedaste, Gilbert and Habimana. I will try to get some pictures up here soon. They looked really cute in their school uniforms, khaki shorts, blue plaid shirts and black shoes. Vedaste is learning a lot of English and Habimana couldn't stop smiling. That is a big change from the first time I met him, before he started school. The headmaster told me that Vedaste and Habimana are the leaders of the boys, even though they are only in 4th grade and Gilbert is doing better. He finally passed first grade.

After this visit, we thought we were heading home but we stopped and had lunch with some cattle farmers who might sell cows to Solace for the widows. One of the farmers decided that we should see the cows so we parked our car on the side of the road and hopped into his to go to his farm, about 5 kilometers up dirt roads, in the middle of nowhere. As soon as we got there, we noticed the front tire was going flat. The farmer said it was no problem because there was a spare but then the spare was flat. Again, the farmer said it was no problem because one of the farm hands could catch a motorbike taxi to town to get the spare inflated. So, the guy runs off with the tire and we start looking at cows. 3 hours later, the tire still isn't back, it's about 30 minutes until sunset and my mother and I are late for a dinner date with some Canadians. We were just about to start walking when the guy with the tire came back. It turns out that no one would let him on their bike with a tire so he had to run the 5 kilometers to and from town with the tire on his head. We finally got home, 5 hours later than planned, and with no desire to see another cow for a long time. It was nice to come home and have a long, fun dinner with some Canadian Baptist missionaries who live down the street.

On Saturday, Ian arrived and we took my mother to the Kimironko market for her final day. As soon as we pulled up in our taxi, boys were covering the car, yelling at us to higher them to carry our groceries. The problem is that we weren't buying a lot and they had a hard time taking no for an answer. They followed us most of the time we were there. This is the big market where farmers from all over the region come to sell their produce so it's big and loud and full of everything you need. It's also only a fraction of the cost of the fancy, western markets in town.

My mom left Sunday after preaching to the widows and orphans at Solace. Ian and I spent the rest of the day walking into town (3 miles) to change money. It was a Gacaca day so everything was closed down except for one little place. No stores are supposed to be open because everyone is supposed to be at the courts, listening to the genocidaires confess. We passed one of the meetings and we could see the line of prisoners in pink sitting in front of a large crowd. I'm not allowed to go to Gacaca because you need government permission and an official has to accompany you and then they start asking questions and I try to stay away from politics as much as possible.

So, that was our weekend. Things will definitely be picking up now that Ian is here and my mother is gone. We're already both doing work. Our Solace jobs will be to evaluate the success of the child sponsorship program in an area called Kabuga (mostly Ian) and perform a needs assessment in Gasabo to see if a similar program would be effecitve there (mostly me). It should be a good summer.