I've had an amazing past few days. I wish I had a few hours to tell you all about it but I have about twenty minutes before it starts to get dark and I need to return my friends lap top before I head home (If anyone is planning international travel DO bring a laptop!) I've kicked myself so many times over not buying one before I left. There are times when you just want to write about your experiences, to vent, or as a way of working out your thought process and doing it all by hand takes forever!
Last Thursday I headed to Buyumba, a village high in the Mountains in the Northern part of Rwandan claos to Uganda. It was a two hour drive in what they call a mini-bus taxi. Back home we'd call it a 15 seater van. The inside of the van is gutted and another bench is added so that 20 plus people can "fit" inside. To spice things up there is some random type of animal print covering all of the inside of the vehicle either in a furry fabric or a type of vinyl. If you're lucky, as I was one of the four times I've been in these vehicles so far, there will be a loud speaker set up at the front to play music. Rwandan radio is hilarious as it jumps genres from classical to R and B to Reggaie and Rap within a twenty minute span. Surprisingly, Canadian singers get a lot of air time here (Celine dion, Bryan Adams) and they are mixed in with select cuts from snoop dog and Phil Collins. The funniest part is that hardly anyone speaks english so they don't understand the lyrics...but often at least one person will be humming along.
In Buyumba Jeanette, my Rwandan co-worker and I met with 19 women who had participated in a Conflict Resolution workshop. THe workshop is supposed to establish a group of women who will continue to work together to solve their own, and their communities, problems. Another purpose of these groups is to serve as a co-op in which women pool their resources to produce something (baskets, or providing a comunity phone, or setting up a hair straigtening stand etc.). The questions I'm asking through my translator are to help my NGO to evaluate the effectivness of these workshops. When Jeanette and I first arrived she had to leave to take a phone call so I was left alone with the women, none of whom spoke french or English. I was seated at the front of the room on a counch and they all sat facing me on wooden benches and chairs which lined the walls. It felt really awkward but I tried to pretend that everything was normal and just smiled at everyone. When Jeanette came in I thought it might break the ice if I asked one of the women who had a little baby how old her child was. I did this through the translator. Everyone started laughing and asked if I wanted the baby...I was like sure! Next thing I knew I was holding a two month old baby and wondering if I had just adopted a child. Thankfully after a few minutes of me hoping that the little guy wouldn't start crying when he saw my white face one of the women took him back amidst much laughter. I was told that here, there are too many babies. The interviews seem to have gone well.
The next morning Jeanette and I caught the 6 oclock bus to Kibuye, a three hour drive to the south of Rwanda. The town is on a Lake which also borders the Congo. Kibuye is an absolutely beautiful fishing village. Laura came along on this trip and after I finished my interviews, Jeanette returned back to Kigali and we stayed there for the weekend. Before Jeanette left she pretty much insisted that we go swimming ( I don't think she believed we knew how) as a lot of Rwandans don't swim. We wanted to find a place out of the way where we wouldn't stand out. Jeanette said she knew a perfect spot, an abandoned resort that closed about two years ago. It had a private beach where we could swim in peace. Long story short..much against the wishes of Laura and I, she convinved the AK 47 wielding guard to let us pass if we would return later in the evening with Fantas for them. Half way through our swim the guards came over with a big orange life jacket. If that whole experience wasn't surreal enough, later on in the weekend Laura and I were walking through the village when we passed a group of about 20 or 30 prisoners marching home after their days work. My usual routine is to look at the ground and keep walking when we run into prisoners. This is exactly what I was doing when the guard carrying the gun at the end of the line shouted "Bonjour" to Laura and I. He was grinning, and we realised that it was the same guy we bought a fanta...weird.
I hope to get back to a computer sometime soon and fill you in on a few more stories
much love, Kathryn (sorry I don't have time to read over this I realise that phrasing and spell check is probably attrocious!)