These past few weeks have been incomprehensively busy. Last week I went to the village everyday doing various projects and visiting various projects. I cannot lie, I loved every moment of it (despite the lousy and rainy weather) and wish that the village could be my true home. Sigh, maybe one day.
The children especially have been a wonderful refreshment to have in my life. I miss working with the children so much, and sometimes the computer work I am stuck doing gets me down and I just need a good dose of childhood. For example, this Saturday we went to the L.L.C.C.M. Orphanage center. It is an RVCP initiative and we went there to play and visit some of the orphans. They don’t live at the center, and only come Saturdays but the center provides their guardians (whoever those might be, similar to Uganda you are considered an orphan if only one of your parents have died) with agriculture projects to help feed the children.
The kids are anywhere between the ages of 8 and 20. Some have been orphaned by HIV, others by the genocide. Of 28 that have been tested for HIV, 28 came out positive. It is a religious orphanage, although RVCP is not religious the orphanage is also supported by some religious institutions. Actually, L.L.C.C.M. stands for Jesus’ famous words “Let the Little Children Come to Me”. Well, are those famous? I don’t know, somehow I knew he had said them before anybody told me.
The kids are phenomenal and in some ways I felt like I was back at HOH hanging out with some of my favorite kids again. They all danced and sang welcome songs for us, and MAN can those kids dance and sing. They had some of us dance traditional Rwandese dances with them, which I have now tried a few times. Although it looks really great to watch it most certainly is not the easiest thing to do in practice. I am sure I look ridiculous when I try, but I don’t care, as long as the kids are laughing (whether at me or not) and having fun this is what I care about.
After the kids were served a delicious lunch – and me too, actually probably the best food I have had since I got here, so deliciously hot and fresh – I went outside and some of the kids followed and we broke out in a sort of break dance/western club/traditional Rwandan dancing beat boxing song and dance. It was waaaay too much fun. We kept it going for quite a while until the man who runs the orphanage came out with a smile but a somewhat grim looking face to ask us politely to go back inside so we could pray. Oops. I somehow feel that even though it was perfectly ok to be having fun with the kids what we were doing was somehow controversial compared to the praying that was supposed to be happening.
Oh well!
The praying that followed was really, really… and I mean really… tense. A woman visiting from a church in Oregon led the prayer. This prayer led to talking about the kids dying, and asking Jesus to keep them brave and strong. I really can’t explain how I feel about this. I guess I don’t even know how I felt about it. The prayer was being translated so the kids could hear it. I mean, one thing I have learned about children who are dying is that they have the most amazing ability to stay happy – it is breathtaking and inspirational. Even though this prayer was out of love and asking to keep these kids safe I just can’t explain how I feel about this prayer which blatantly talked about how sick many of these kids are to their faces. It isn’t a hidden fact. Many of these kids will probably die soon, but- is it ok to talk about it. And this causes me to re-evaluate myself. Why is it that I don’t feel comfortable talking about inevitable death when I am so certain about the present and enjoying it as it lasts? I accept some of these kids will die – as much as it breaks my heart. And although some of the kids were crying during the prayer (although I would say it was out of the love that was felt in the room) I know these kids accept that they will probably die. This alone is incomprehensible – how would it feel to live with death walking in your shadow? I am just trying to sort through this, and even my opinion about how to talk with children about dying. I guess in this case they are waiting an afterlife of wonderful promises and a beautiful paradise. Maybe I just don’t know what is in my own life after death (if there is one) so I somehow don’t know how to talk to kids about it…
Oh the challenges.
The project is going super well, we are getting tons of hives soon and will be putting them in. That being said this is turning into a somewhat stressful and computer filled week (sigh). I get to go to Kigali on Monday though to learn about hives are made (yay)! This should be fun, and it will be a good chance to get out of Butare for a bit. That being said I feel like I could sit in front of a computer everyday for the next two months and still not finish all the work I have to do. Still, those women are so incredibly worth it and I would not sleep or eat for them to make this project work. I am learning so many valuable things about development work and learning about the stresses and complications of making a budget (yech). But, every time I get to go and hoe a bit with those women or get to greet them if I run into them in the village all those nitpicky computer details fall away.
On another note I am back to making Marakuja (passion fruit) juice again, and despite the lack of interest from my roommates I LOVE it. I would make it forever and ever until the end of time if I could. Many do I love passion fruit!! YUM!
My big project will be doing a woman’s empowerment workshop at the end of July which I am incredibly excited about planning. It should be pretty low key with a lot of drinking beer and chilling out just talking about women’s rights and having cultural exchanges. Plus, I am such a workshop writing geek that I just can’t wait to make the workshop and see it be facilitated (unfortunately my Kinyarwanda is not strong enough to actually facilitate myself – but I am sure I will thoroughly enjoy watching).
In a few weeks I might end up going to Burundi to hang out with some people in Burundi Village Concept Project. This should be so much fun, and I would be really excited to check out Bujumbura (doing it carefully with other friends and acquaintances that live in Bujumbura of course!). This will be a new adventure, a new country to put on my growing list of East African visits. It won’t be long (only the weekend) but I am pretty excited!
My other love is groundnuts. These are peanuts but they still have their purple covering. I can’t really explain it more then by saying yum. Wow so so so so good. You just buy them off of people on the street and you eat them quickly for delicious satisfaction.
This is how I feel now here in Rwanda, deliciously satisfied.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Elephants are bigger in real life...
Well – I have now officially learned the diverseness of this tiny little country. This weekend I went camping in the Savannah (yes this really does exist) and saw an elephant, giraffes, hippos, crocodiles, impalas, buffalo, birds of many kinds, baboons, monkeys… and the list goes on. It was really fantastic, but quite the adventure. So prepare yourself (especially to my parents) because this was far from being the most organized or safest adventure I have ever been on**…
** I would like my parents to note that I am returned safely with all limbs and no problems. So, no matter how bad things sound, remember I’m safe, so it doesn’t matter any more…
It all began with a jeep. There were seven of us in total on this trip… The German, the Swiss, the Dutch, the Belgian, the American, the Quebecoise and me. I realized about half way through that although only two of us actually came from the same country, the four which originated from Europe had all grown up in closer proximity then the other Canadian and I. The language spoken was English, but it was certainly only my first language, since the American had grown up speaking Hindi (although now, her language of comfort was English).
The jeep was a seven seater, so we were certainly safe from that perspective. However, it took us only five minutes of driving before one of the famous Butare rainy season downpours hit and we realized that the windshield wipers (which had worked fine 10 minutes earlier when the man who rented us his jeep had shown us how to work them) were broken. We pulled over, tried to get them to work, but no cigar. Then, out of nowhere they started working again, and we celebrated, and continued along our way. The rain stopped and everything seemed fine, until, of course, the rain started and the windshield wipers didn’t. Alex, the German, and the driver, braved the rain and the lack of windshield wipers and continued. However, due to the hill like nature of Rwanda, we soon found ourselves going up a mountain which was now heavily covered in fog, with no windshield wipers, and surprise, surprise, no lights! (we had also tested to see if these worked, which they had, and later we realized we just didn’t’ know how to turn them on). We pulled over for a bit, trying to get the windshield wipers to work, but again, no luck. So we cleaned the widow with a towel, and continued on until we had to do the same thing again. It was a slow process, but it worked out in the end.
The lights were not a big deal, until darkness came (here it comes at 6 everyday, since we are so close to the equator). Then we had no lights and constantly had people flashing their high beams in our face to let us know we didn’t have our lights. It was also a Friday night, which is a busy time to try and get into Kigali, and we were stuck behind a bunch of trucks which were having a hard time getting up the hill. This is very common, since they are so heavily loaded and the hills are so steep. Usually you just pass them, but it’s easier said then done since you have to go around the truck by briefly risking your life in the lane of opposite traffic. It’s best to go when there is no one coming, but it’s hard to tell when that time is since the sharp turns every few hundred meters seriously limit your ability to see.
Needless to say we made it into Kigali, and then into the district where our hostel was just outside of Kigali (the name of which has escaped me), parked our car in a very small space and congratulated our driver on getting us to Kigali unharmed!
We proceeded to having diner. We looked around for a place to eat, trying to avoid ‘mélange’ which is what we eat everyday and consists of a buffet of mainly carbs which you are able to take as much as you want of as long as you get it on your plate the first time you go up to the buffet (the trick is to make a mountain on your plate). Most Westerners don’t like this food, I don’t mind it so much, but didn’t mind the idea of eating at another restaurant.
Well we showed up, it was in a hotel, and the prices were insane (between 4-6$ when a mélange can be around 0.50$). Nonetheless we ordered our food, found out quickly that they in fact did not have any of the food we wanted and that their chef was at home sick. We found this out about 30 minutes into sitting down. No matter, we all ordered something else, and hoped it would come soon since we were so hungry. Unfortunately, the food didn’t come until 3 hours later, and by that time 3 of us had to be back to the hostel since the rooms we were staying in had a curfew of 11pm. Alex and I went back to the hostel to talk with the manager and beg him to let us stay out a bit longer so we could actually eat. He was drunk, and agreed reluctantly. We went back to the restaurant, ate, and came back right away. In the end perhaps the early curfew worked out for the best since we were having to leave so early the next morning. But all the same, this was my second time in Kigali, but my first time with friends – and a part of me was really hoping for a night out on the town!
The next morning we woke up, packed the jeep, filled the radiator with water (otherwise it overheats) and crossed our fingers that the wonky battery would not do us wrong. Luckily we were fine and we headed into town to buy some food for the weekend of camping (which in the end consisted of some cheese, peanut butter, jam, white bread, and groundnuts (like peanuts unroasted)… oh, and some banana liquor of course). Then we went to eat breakfast. This I have to talk about just because it was so funny since we ordered “an omelet, with some bread.” Now, you would think this means an omelet, with some bread on the side to go with it. But when our food came we had an omelet with bread cooked inside of it. Hah!! It was actually really yummy so I didn’t mind, but all I could imagine was the people in the kitchen cooking saying “those crazy muzungus, bread with omelet, what are they thinking!?”
We drove the 4 hours or so to Acagera National Park, close to Tanzania, where we were going to spend our weekend. It was a fairly uneventful trip and the landscape changed so much from dense forest hills to spread out flats. Who knew such a little country could be so vastly different from one side to another?
We turned off to go up the 28km dirt road which led to the park and, oh! Surprise, surprise, we had a flat tire! In the middle of a village, not many cars around…. Hmmm… We took off the spare tire from the back, looked for the jack and realized it was broken. (the man had shown it to us before also, but the people who had checked it didn’t realize it was missing the top part). So we went on a search of someone with a vehicle, but luckily a taxi-van came down the hill, we flagged them down, and begged them to help us with our spare tire. Which they did (thank God), and we were able to continue on our way. But upon further checking of the other tires we realized they were all quite old and in battered condition – and we were about to go on off beaten roads to look at animals. Let’s just say the rest of the weekend was continued with a sense of possible tire flats and doom if that happened.
Luckily, it did not.
The safari was amazing. It was absolutely beautiful, and we camped on the top of a mountain overlooking a beautiful lake. We saw an elephant (which has been my dream, so yay!), and zebras, giraffes (we got really close to one too), buffalos, impala, about 15 hippos… in all we were quite lucky compared to most tourists since we got to see so many animals. It was completely worth it. The entire time felt so surreal, is it really possible that giraffes exist? I still can’t tell if the weekend actually happened or not – or if I just dreamed all those beautiful animals, trees, plants and landscape.
I did the drive back from the park to Kigali. This time, thank God, not hitting a motto-taxi driver like I did last time I drove in Africa. Actually, I managed to make it the entire way without hitting anyone of anything! Plus it felt really great to be driving a jeep in Africa, kind of made me feel like some NGO worker with some important logo on the side of my car. Maybe one day…
In Kigali Alex took over for the rest of the drive. Everything seemed to be going extremely well until we went around a curve passing another vehicle and then the police (which are all over the roads) pulled us over. Eeep. One was a police officer, the other a military man carrying the oh so popular, cheap, and easy to find AK-47 in his hand. The police officer tried to explain that we had passed the truck when there was a solid white line, which was illegal, and meant we had to get a ticket (which are quite expensive here). We tried to pull the ‘we don’t know what’s going on, we are only mzungus in some strange country!’. The police officer seemed ready to let us go but the military man just started yelling we had done something wrong. They asked for Alex’s license and went to write up a ticket. A few moments later however, they came back and said they would let us go. Lucky us Alex’s license was in German and was probably far too confusing for them to actually figure out what information to write down to give us the ticket. We managed to make it to Butare with no stops and no car troubles from there.
We had so many car troubles, and had bent the bar of the roof carrier of the man’s jeep that we thought we were going to be asked to pay for everything. We agreed that most of it was not our fault, except for the bar, and that we would pay that back. We said we’d offer 20,000RWF (about 40$) and be willing to go up to 35,000RWF. However, he had been so stressed about lending us his jeep for the weekend that he didn’t care that the tire had gone flat (I think it was going to happen soon anyway), or about the windshield wipers, or the bar. He was just so happy his jeep was back. He took 20,000 for any damages, but I think he would have let us give him nothing. He even drove us all back home he was so relieved. Another lucky for us I suppose, since we thought we were going to be really stuck for cash.
This was a wonderful weekend it was so nice to be camping again (although we were supposedly supposed to see hyenas and leopards in our campsite which we didn’t). All the car troubles worked out in the end, so to me it was just a gong-show which ended ok. Now I really feel like I’m here and I’m excited for this weeks tasks. My to-do list is a full page long, with notes and everything. On Sunday some new volunteers are coming from America and the house is going to be full. I’m starting to really feel comfortable and adapted here and am super pumped for the next 3 months.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
New Excitement!
Miriwe (good afternoon) to all!
This week has been a very busy week. I have gotten to know Rwanda quite a bit better and can feel myself falling in love. It is a completely different sort of culture then Uganda, which although it may seem naive to say is really surprising to me since they are so close. The people here are the most polite people I have ever met. They obey authority without question (which can either mean bad or good things – but with the leadership of Kagame generally means good things). However, this is very strange for me since I prefer the bottom-up sort of activist style, but here that just wouldn't fly. If the order does not come from above it is not an order. That being said, if it is from above, it is law.
On Wednesday of last week I went to the gacaca (pronounced gachacha). This is a war tribunal kind of a court which takes place every Wednesday (but it varies from village to village) and is a place where people can come to give testimonies about prisoners accused of acts of genocide. It is generally a form of justice and retaliation on those who killed families, friends, loved ones... Everything closes down on Wednesday in the city to encourage people to go. They have until the end of this year to try everyone (although with speak of extending the dead line of the bigger cases taking place in Tanzania it's very possible this deadline will also be extended). In some places they have already finished, but here in Huye they are still trying prisoners. So I give for you an account of what I saw. Everything was in Kinrwanda so I have only a broken translation of the case brought forward.
The day started late, and there were maybe around 50 people there (although this number grew substantially as the case continued). Five judges walked in, two women and three men. These judges stay the same throughout the trying, and most looked slightly older. They each wore everyday clothing save a sash with the Rwandan flag.
The case started with a moment of silence. I think this is what shook my core the most. It reminded me of the moment of silence we take November 11th every year to commemorate the soldiers who fell during the First, Second and Korean wars (among others). However, when I am taking this moment of silence I am remembering people, events, feelings I never experienced. Sure, it moves me, and I try to feel what it must have been like to fight for these wars, but that is nothing compared to really experiencing a war. However, I knew that during this moment of silence everyone in the room knew exactly what had happened during the genocide. They all had stories to tell, scars to bare, loved ones to miss. It was very moving and eerie to think of a moment of silence in which everyone in the room was thinking of their own experiences.
Next came the testimonies. Everyone was welcome to bring forward names of people they knew who had commited acts of genocide, along with accounts of why they had been tried. This was done on sheets of scrap paper that were brought forward to the judges and then were examined accordingly. Next came the introduction of the prisoners. I only stayed for the story of one of the prisoners, but here is what happened:
He came forward. He had been sitting in the back with the other prisoner and there seemed to be one guard near by. Neither tried to make any escape, and both wore prison uniforms which were pink and consisted of a shirt and shorts. The shorts were interesting to me since I realized these were actually the first bare male legs I had seen since my arrival here. It is a way, I think, to humiliate and demoralize the prisoners since no one wears shorts in any circumstance.
They did not have a folder for this prisoner so they had to go through his story and make one for him. He said he had been a shop keeper down the street. The judges asked him how he moved his products around and he said that he had a truck that was given to him by a mzungu (white person). He did not know the name of this mzungu and just kept sayig 'mzungu, mzungu.' This, of course, is one of the few words I understand, so although at this point I did not know what was going on I definitely knew they were talking about a white person. Anyway, he concluded that he hadn't comited acts of genocide, and that this truck he had been provided with was given to him by a mzungu, and not the intraharmwe (the militia Hugu group which made the genocide happen).
There were two witnesses testifying against him (the ones who were going to testify for him were going to come the next week). The first one got very sick half way through her testimony and had to be escorted away from the chair where she was sitting. However, she came back after the second witness had given her testimony. Basically, she had also been a prisoner at one point in 1997, for what reasons, I still don't fully understand why or the relevance of this. What was shocking is that mid-way through her testimony people began laughing. Laughing? Really? This seemed far to serious to be any kind of a laughing matter. The other witness had given a full testimony, saying that one of her friends who worked at the hospital with her (and where both witnesses worked) had been killed. The second witness said that it was him who did it, and gave her testimony against him. However, the first witness, the one who got sick midway through and had to leave, said that she did not know who killed her friend. I later discovered that this is why they had been laughing at her – they said that there was no way a friend could be killed and you would not try and find out who had done it. This seemed very strange to me, and hard to grasp. I don't know how I feel about this – I mean, it seems like it would be pretty difficult to want to know who had killed your friend when people all around you are being killed. Wouldn't there be a certain feeling of just wanting to stay out of it and pretend like life was continuing on as normal? An interesting moral dilema.
This week also consisted of a welcome party at the house where I am living for me and the other volunteer who is newly arrived, as well as Alex, the German volunteer who has been here a while, whose birthday was earlier in the week. We celebrated and partied, it was a really great time. I learned about a Rwandan custom which was so very interesting. It is the costum of banana beer (which tastes neither like bananas or beer). Banana beer is the local beer and it is dubed the beer of heros. In fact, if you wish to drink it you have to prove you are a hero by going in front of everyone and saying 'I am a hero because...'. Then everyone yells and judges whether or not you are trully a hero and deserve to be drinking this beer. This tradition originates from the genocide when, at the end of the day soldiers would come back to their camps and would have to say how many people they have killed. If they had killed enough, and had had a successful day then they were able to drink – if not, they were not permitted. I hope to bring some banana beer home. Along with some strawberry wine (which neither tastes like strawberries or wine).
This Sunday was also a big event. It was the 25th annual Candlelight Memorial March. It is a march which happens every year in memorial of people who have died or been affected by AIDS. Last year the turn out was bigger, but this year was more organized. In my eyes it seemed like a wonderful success, but I know Alex, who was the primary organizer was disappointed. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed myself. There were many speechs preaching abstanance and condoms if you really can't hold it in (it was my job to help hand out free condoms). There was a testimony from a woman who's husband had cheated on her with another woman and brought back AIDS, which she was now dying from and which her three children also suffered from. It was moving, and in the end I think the audience was very moved by the speeches made.
I also went up to the project early last week, but if you wish to learn more about this you are welcome to check out my second blog. All I can say is that things here are starting to pick up and move along. I really love the medical students, and have so much to learn from them. I was a bit sick with a cold this week but now that I'm over it I'm all set and ready to go for another week in paradise!
Monday, May 12, 2008
Tropical Paradise
I am living in a tropical paradise!! Again, I repeat… I. Am. Living. In. Tropical. Paradise!!
This is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been, by far. The sun shines, everything is green (greener then BC at it’s best) and there are hills everywhere! Mountains almost to even my criteria (although maybe Quebec has lowered my standards, who knows?). I really feel like I am somehow landed in the middle of paradise. There are beautiful flowers, and trees everywhere. It’s unbelievable.
I spent all of yesterday sleeping, so I don’t have much to report except that I started looking through project documents today and boy oh boy am I excited! Unfortunately I made the last minute decision to not bring my very broken laptop that works at times (deciding it was not worth carrying around) and found out today that had I brought it I would have been entitled to free wireless around the university campus. Oh the small regrets.
I guess that is the biggest and perhaps hardest difference for me. Here I am among academics, working for a club that is run exclusively by medical university students. So you can imagine the difference from going from Uganda working in rural never seen a white person before to Rwanda academic speaking French and English whilst debating politics and having incomprehensible medical conversations. The thing is that RVCP has a huge international base. I am living with other international participants (two Germans at the moment, one also named Alexandra) and it’s great. But it’s still very different.
For now I have to admit that as I doze off to sleep my mind is certainly still yearning for Uganda and the fun of being completely culturally outcast and trying to adapt. This city, Butare, is such a tourist attraction and university city (as well as high class hospitals) that you can imagine how different the feel is. The computers people are using are nicer then the computers we have at McGill, if you can believe it. And many students have laptops… I guess this was just very unexpected. I’m sure I’ll get used to this different environment in due course and love it for all it’s worth – but for now my dreams still lie with the rural village, the latrines, the lack of running water…
That being said I will be going to the project site where the women are working very soon! And I am very excited about this. The project sounds great, I have seen some more pictures, and I’m sure everything is going to be phenomenal. There are some money issues to sort out, but when are there not? The most important thing is that the money come in by the end of May since if we get the hives after that this means that we will miss the bee keeping season! Eep!
In all I am really loving it here. I miss Montreal in a way I never thought I would – it’s hard to leave behind a city and people you are just newly starting to fall in love with. But everything will be there when I come back. Rwanda is quite different to Uganda, but I am learning to soak up the differences, and appreciate them as they come. The job I’m set out to do, and the project itself is so vastly different from the one I did last year the I am excited to take advantage of the moment. Besides, who can give up such a wonderful tropical paradise?
This is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been, by far. The sun shines, everything is green (greener then BC at it’s best) and there are hills everywhere! Mountains almost to even my criteria (although maybe Quebec has lowered my standards, who knows?). I really feel like I am somehow landed in the middle of paradise. There are beautiful flowers, and trees everywhere. It’s unbelievable.
I spent all of yesterday sleeping, so I don’t have much to report except that I started looking through project documents today and boy oh boy am I excited! Unfortunately I made the last minute decision to not bring my very broken laptop that works at times (deciding it was not worth carrying around) and found out today that had I brought it I would have been entitled to free wireless around the university campus. Oh the small regrets.
I guess that is the biggest and perhaps hardest difference for me. Here I am among academics, working for a club that is run exclusively by medical university students. So you can imagine the difference from going from Uganda working in rural never seen a white person before to Rwanda academic speaking French and English whilst debating politics and having incomprehensible medical conversations. The thing is that RVCP has a huge international base. I am living with other international participants (two Germans at the moment, one also named Alexandra) and it’s great. But it’s still very different.
For now I have to admit that as I doze off to sleep my mind is certainly still yearning for Uganda and the fun of being completely culturally outcast and trying to adapt. This city, Butare, is such a tourist attraction and university city (as well as high class hospitals) that you can imagine how different the feel is. The computers people are using are nicer then the computers we have at McGill, if you can believe it. And many students have laptops… I guess this was just very unexpected. I’m sure I’ll get used to this different environment in due course and love it for all it’s worth – but for now my dreams still lie with the rural village, the latrines, the lack of running water…
That being said I will be going to the project site where the women are working very soon! And I am very excited about this. The project sounds great, I have seen some more pictures, and I’m sure everything is going to be phenomenal. There are some money issues to sort out, but when are there not? The most important thing is that the money come in by the end of May since if we get the hives after that this means that we will miss the bee keeping season! Eep!
In all I am really loving it here. I miss Montreal in a way I never thought I would – it’s hard to leave behind a city and people you are just newly starting to fall in love with. But everything will be there when I come back. Rwanda is quite different to Uganda, but I am learning to soak up the differences, and appreciate them as they come. The job I’m set out to do, and the project itself is so vastly different from the one I did last year the I am excited to take advantage of the moment. Besides, who can give up such a wonderful tropical paradise?
Monday, May 5, 2008
A New Adventure
Hey All!!
So I am once again going on an adventure, setting out to try and understand this strange world we live in.
This year has been phenomenal. Given the obvious ups and downs of moving to a new city and going to university I have learned so much, given some fuel to my passions and grown happier by the day. Montreal is maybe the best city in the world, and I don't mean that as a hyperbole. I have met wonderful people and set off on the life long journey to break down the McGill admin. I have tested the waters of left wing radical politics and activism and can't wait for more. I've learned to combine my love for Africa and History with academia and am loving every moment of it. In short, this year has been an adventure of it's own. But a new one starts now - and here it is...
On May 8th I will be setting off to Rwanda (eeeeep! Rwanda, for those of you who read my last year's blog you'll know how much Rwanda means to me). The deal this time is that I am doing an internship with End Poverty Now, an NGO (Non-Government Organization) which is dedicated to ending poverty through education and sustainability.
This trip will be pretty different from the last one. Aside from the new country and culture my role will be drastically different. I will be working at a project through a smaller Rwandan run organization called the Rwandan Village Concept project on one of their smaller projects with a group of widows living in a village about 30 minutes outside of Butare (the old capital of Rwanda, previously known as Huye, about 2.5 hours from Kigali).
The project is through a widows organization to make and sell honey products for a living. The numbers of the project are breathtaking as they claim that within the first year the women will have increased their wages by up to 80%. Wow. Many of these women's husbands were killed in the genocide, or in some cases from HIV. I truly believe that women are the silenced backbone of Africa and I am so excited to work with these women as they attempt to eliminate poverty in their community with this project.
My job at the root is pretty boring. The project is brand new (it was began in February). Since End Poverty Now (EPN) is an NGO it has to prove to the Candian government that all it's funds are going towards it's projects, and that it's projects are indeed running. So, my job is to go, take pictures, keep journals, keep records of all money dispensed, check books, put up some kind of End Poverty Now sign and ensure that things are just generally running smoothly. Eventually I think EPN will send this information onto the Canadian government as proof that this specific project is really up and running.
Luckily, this bureaucratic bull shit does not have to be the be all and end all of my work. I will also get to; work in the fields with the women, learning about how to make honey, hang out with the women, just doing the general talking about life thing (I am hoping for the occasional theorectical discussion on feminism) and dig around for whatever else needs to be done at the project. As well, I think that Hovaire, the director of the Rwanda Village Concept Project is wanting to start up another project and wants to utilize my language abilities to help him out with that. I am more then happy to do that since it sort of falls in line with what I was doing at House of Hope in Uganda.
I am leaving in 3 days. I still haven't subleted my apartment (please, if you know anyone send them my way!) and am completely distracted by that. Nonetheless, I am really excited to be going, and hopefully once the plane takes off I will just let my Canadian worries disappear. Most of all I am excited to be going to Rwanda, a country which has fascinated me for years. I am there until the end of August but am definitely going to take some time to travel back through Uganda to see some old friends, hug a few well missed children, and finish off with a night or two in Nairobi, discovering the attractions of Kenya. My hope is to pick up as much Kinrwanda as I can while living in Rwanda, since this time the adjustment period (hopefully) won't be as long, since I kind of understand the African routine. Montreal will definitely be missed, especially after living through the longest and most brutal winter of my life I feel I deserve to enjoy a little bit more of the wonderful summer here - but I'll be back in no time and will have a summer in Montreal one day. It's going to be hard to say goodbye to some friends whom I know will be having some good times without me - but hopefully facebook will let me live vicariously.
I will be updating this blog as often as possible, with estimated internet time of once every week to 2 weeks. You are all welcome to e-mail me any thoughts and just hellos at ally.macadams@gmail.com (i've changed e-mails).
As well, I will be keeping another blog going for the purposes of End Poverty Now with more project oriented information. That one will be kept more updated more often with details about the project. My plan is to keep this blog more for thoughts, emotions, and travels which fall outside of the EPN realm. Hopefully this blog will also include more pictures then I had up last time... but we'll see how that goes.
You can (and should!) check that blog out at : http://sustainabilibee.blogspot.com/
Here's to a new adventure, and a new visit to Africa. As the year has gone by I have only fallen more in love with Africa and have learned many new names, dates and anecdotes to put with my love. I cannot wait to go learn more hands on - oh change in the making!! It's going to be a good summer.
So I am once again going on an adventure, setting out to try and understand this strange world we live in.
This year has been phenomenal. Given the obvious ups and downs of moving to a new city and going to university I have learned so much, given some fuel to my passions and grown happier by the day. Montreal is maybe the best city in the world, and I don't mean that as a hyperbole. I have met wonderful people and set off on the life long journey to break down the McGill admin. I have tested the waters of left wing radical politics and activism and can't wait for more. I've learned to combine my love for Africa and History with academia and am loving every moment of it. In short, this year has been an adventure of it's own. But a new one starts now - and here it is...
On May 8th I will be setting off to Rwanda (eeeeep! Rwanda, for those of you who read my last year's blog you'll know how much Rwanda means to me). The deal this time is that I am doing an internship with End Poverty Now, an NGO (Non-Government Organization) which is dedicated to ending poverty through education and sustainability.
This trip will be pretty different from the last one. Aside from the new country and culture my role will be drastically different. I will be working at a project through a smaller Rwandan run organization called the Rwandan Village Concept project on one of their smaller projects with a group of widows living in a village about 30 minutes outside of Butare (the old capital of Rwanda, previously known as Huye, about 2.5 hours from Kigali).
The project is through a widows organization to make and sell honey products for a living. The numbers of the project are breathtaking as they claim that within the first year the women will have increased their wages by up to 80%. Wow. Many of these women's husbands were killed in the genocide, or in some cases from HIV. I truly believe that women are the silenced backbone of Africa and I am so excited to work with these women as they attempt to eliminate poverty in their community with this project.
My job at the root is pretty boring. The project is brand new (it was began in February). Since End Poverty Now (EPN) is an NGO it has to prove to the Candian government that all it's funds are going towards it's projects, and that it's projects are indeed running. So, my job is to go, take pictures, keep journals, keep records of all money dispensed, check books, put up some kind of End Poverty Now sign and ensure that things are just generally running smoothly. Eventually I think EPN will send this information onto the Canadian government as proof that this specific project is really up and running.
Luckily, this bureaucratic bull shit does not have to be the be all and end all of my work. I will also get to; work in the fields with the women, learning about how to make honey, hang out with the women, just doing the general talking about life thing (I am hoping for the occasional theorectical discussion on feminism) and dig around for whatever else needs to be done at the project. As well, I think that Hovaire, the director of the Rwanda Village Concept Project is wanting to start up another project and wants to utilize my language abilities to help him out with that. I am more then happy to do that since it sort of falls in line with what I was doing at House of Hope in Uganda.
I am leaving in 3 days. I still haven't subleted my apartment (please, if you know anyone send them my way!) and am completely distracted by that. Nonetheless, I am really excited to be going, and hopefully once the plane takes off I will just let my Canadian worries disappear. Most of all I am excited to be going to Rwanda, a country which has fascinated me for years. I am there until the end of August but am definitely going to take some time to travel back through Uganda to see some old friends, hug a few well missed children, and finish off with a night or two in Nairobi, discovering the attractions of Kenya. My hope is to pick up as much Kinrwanda as I can while living in Rwanda, since this time the adjustment period (hopefully) won't be as long, since I kind of understand the African routine. Montreal will definitely be missed, especially after living through the longest and most brutal winter of my life I feel I deserve to enjoy a little bit more of the wonderful summer here - but I'll be back in no time and will have a summer in Montreal one day. It's going to be hard to say goodbye to some friends whom I know will be having some good times without me - but hopefully facebook will let me live vicariously.
I will be updating this blog as often as possible, with estimated internet time of once every week to 2 weeks. You are all welcome to e-mail me any thoughts and just hellos at ally.macadams@gmail.com (i've changed e-mails).
As well, I will be keeping another blog going for the purposes of End Poverty Now with more project oriented information. That one will be kept more updated more often with details about the project. My plan is to keep this blog more for thoughts, emotions, and travels which fall outside of the EPN realm. Hopefully this blog will also include more pictures then I had up last time... but we'll see how that goes.
You can (and should!) check that blog out at : http://sustainabilibee.blogspot.com/
Here's to a new adventure, and a new visit to Africa. As the year has gone by I have only fallen more in love with Africa and have learned many new names, dates and anecdotes to put with my love. I cannot wait to go learn more hands on - oh change in the making!! It's going to be a good summer.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
The Tears I'll Leave Behind
Hello to all,
Yesterday I left the beautiful village of Kyazanga. In Uganda crying is not socially acceptable. I have never seen a Bugandan cry (i've seen Jenifer cry, but she's Rwandese, and it's acceptable in her culture). When saying goodbye to volunteers the kids have met they sing a good bye song. It's really beautiful. Of course, I knew it was coming so I began crying while walking up the hill to the school. It took a while for everybody to get settled into the classroom to sing so I played some clapping games with the kids. I couldn't even finish the song without having my voice crack. The kids knew I was sad, but I don't think that the kids had really clued into the fact that I was leaving.
They all began singing (it was beautiful) and I cried and cried. Near the end of the song one girl (named Teddy, she's amazing) started crying. Then 4 kids started crying, then 19 and all of a sudden this room of 100 orphans, 4 volunteers from Mukono, 4 teachers, Jenifer and I were all crying. Leslie said she had never seen anything like it in Uganda. We were all in pain together but I think it would be fair to say that sharing that pain made it hurt less. I didn't know what to do. I knew I wanted to tell them I love them all as though they were my children. I wanted to tell them Cilika (which litterally translates into "shh"). I wanted to hold every single one of them forever and ever. How is it possible that I have given these children as much as they have given me? 100 hugs later I got into the car and we drove away... back to Masaka... back to Kampala... back to Mukono.
100 hugs later I said good bye to the most beautiful souls I have ever encountered.
Coming home is going to be such a challenge. I recognize that I don't want to do it but that this adventure has come to a close. I am not sad because I am leaving something behind forever, I'm sad because Uganda won't be a part of my life everyday for the next few years. The people here are so wonderful; the children especially. I have found a happiness I couldn't have imagined existed. I made the realization a few weeks ago that the reason it was going to be so hard to leave the kids at House of Hope was that I had found such a divine happiness that in leaving it I would be leaving it forever. But I realized that I'm not leaving happiness; i have found it so I can never lose it. I may be sad and slightly lost at the moment, but I'm still happy.
For the last year and a half I have obsesed and dreamed about Africa. Well now it is a part of me, it's not longer a dream but a reality. Coming home will not make Africa any less of a part of me.
A part of me is also really scared to come home. Scared about facing challenges which to people here would appear trivial. Scared to fall back into that rythm of thinking more of my needs then the needs of others. Scared I might forget who these children are, or what they have taught me. No, no, I will never forget that. I can't ever forget that.
I'm scared of using a flush toilet and drinking from the tap. I'm scared of white people. I'm scared for university in the fall. I'm scared of reverse culture shock and loosing the person I have become. I'm scared, but I'm not afraid. Although to me the challenges I will face in coming home will be much larger then the challenges I feel that three months in Uganda has provided me with the courage to get through any challenge.
Tomorow I am going to go bungee jumping into the River Nile. I need to explain this here, but I hope my mother reads this and understands why I need to do it...
I wanted to go bungee jumping in Nanaimo for my 18th birthday (since that's all you can really do in BC when you turn 18... except buy porn...). Well it was closed for the winter season so the opportunity didn't work out. I was planning on going this summer... but then read in my East Africa Travel Guide that you can go in Jinja (the source of the Nile).
I have been here for 11 weeks. I have learned so so much and have changed as a person. I have grown up and realized alot about myself and about the world. Tomorow when I jump into the Nile I'm not doing it to be rebelious, or to prove something, or to impress people. I'm doing it for me; I am going to be selfish.
It is a representation of the freedom I have earned here. I think it's fair to say that I have grown up and so have my parents. They have accepted me as an adult and I have become one. I have lived a dream. I have embraced life and all the lessons it has presented me.
Tomorow when I jump into the Nile it will be a jump into freedom and into a new era of my life.
And hopefully I won't get my head bitten off my Crocodiles...
Love and kisses; I'll be back soon with pictures, stories and 30Canadian Dollars (so if you want to take me out for lunch, please feel free...). Until Monday, have a good long weekend.
Yesterday I left the beautiful village of Kyazanga. In Uganda crying is not socially acceptable. I have never seen a Bugandan cry (i've seen Jenifer cry, but she's Rwandese, and it's acceptable in her culture). When saying goodbye to volunteers the kids have met they sing a good bye song. It's really beautiful. Of course, I knew it was coming so I began crying while walking up the hill to the school. It took a while for everybody to get settled into the classroom to sing so I played some clapping games with the kids. I couldn't even finish the song without having my voice crack. The kids knew I was sad, but I don't think that the kids had really clued into the fact that I was leaving.
They all began singing (it was beautiful) and I cried and cried. Near the end of the song one girl (named Teddy, she's amazing) started crying. Then 4 kids started crying, then 19 and all of a sudden this room of 100 orphans, 4 volunteers from Mukono, 4 teachers, Jenifer and I were all crying. Leslie said she had never seen anything like it in Uganda. We were all in pain together but I think it would be fair to say that sharing that pain made it hurt less. I didn't know what to do. I knew I wanted to tell them I love them all as though they were my children. I wanted to tell them Cilika (which litterally translates into "shh"). I wanted to hold every single one of them forever and ever. How is it possible that I have given these children as much as they have given me? 100 hugs later I got into the car and we drove away... back to Masaka... back to Kampala... back to Mukono.
100 hugs later I said good bye to the most beautiful souls I have ever encountered.
Coming home is going to be such a challenge. I recognize that I don't want to do it but that this adventure has come to a close. I am not sad because I am leaving something behind forever, I'm sad because Uganda won't be a part of my life everyday for the next few years. The people here are so wonderful; the children especially. I have found a happiness I couldn't have imagined existed. I made the realization a few weeks ago that the reason it was going to be so hard to leave the kids at House of Hope was that I had found such a divine happiness that in leaving it I would be leaving it forever. But I realized that I'm not leaving happiness; i have found it so I can never lose it. I may be sad and slightly lost at the moment, but I'm still happy.
For the last year and a half I have obsesed and dreamed about Africa. Well now it is a part of me, it's not longer a dream but a reality. Coming home will not make Africa any less of a part of me.
A part of me is also really scared to come home. Scared about facing challenges which to people here would appear trivial. Scared to fall back into that rythm of thinking more of my needs then the needs of others. Scared I might forget who these children are, or what they have taught me. No, no, I will never forget that. I can't ever forget that.
I'm scared of using a flush toilet and drinking from the tap. I'm scared of white people. I'm scared for university in the fall. I'm scared of reverse culture shock and loosing the person I have become. I'm scared, but I'm not afraid. Although to me the challenges I will face in coming home will be much larger then the challenges I feel that three months in Uganda has provided me with the courage to get through any challenge.
Tomorow I am going to go bungee jumping into the River Nile. I need to explain this here, but I hope my mother reads this and understands why I need to do it...
I wanted to go bungee jumping in Nanaimo for my 18th birthday (since that's all you can really do in BC when you turn 18... except buy porn...). Well it was closed for the winter season so the opportunity didn't work out. I was planning on going this summer... but then read in my East Africa Travel Guide that you can go in Jinja (the source of the Nile).
I have been here for 11 weeks. I have learned so so much and have changed as a person. I have grown up and realized alot about myself and about the world. Tomorow when I jump into the Nile I'm not doing it to be rebelious, or to prove something, or to impress people. I'm doing it for me; I am going to be selfish.
It is a representation of the freedom I have earned here. I think it's fair to say that I have grown up and so have my parents. They have accepted me as an adult and I have become one. I have lived a dream. I have embraced life and all the lessons it has presented me.
Tomorow when I jump into the Nile it will be a jump into freedom and into a new era of my life.
And hopefully I won't get my head bitten off my Crocodiles...
Love and kisses; I'll be back soon with pictures, stories and 30Canadian Dollars (so if you want to take me out for lunch, please feel free...). Until Monday, have a good long weekend.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Sing, Dance, Play
Ogamba Chi! (what's up?)
I realize this will probably be actually well written blogspot number one since i've arrived in Kyazanga, sorry about that. It's been a really busy time. I absolutely love it. Actually, "love it" would be an understatement. No word has been made in the english language to describe how I feel. So just imagine with me:
These kids. These kids at House of Hope. They are, they are... unbelievable! When they have music time and they sing and dance I get this overwhelming desire to cry. Just tears of happiness. There is something really really special about these kids; i adore them so much. Especially when you visit their homes and see how 9 are sleeping in one room, on the dirt floor with no blanket you think "how on earth do these kids come to school everyday and laugh and sing and dance? How are these kids happy?"
I think that's probably the biggest lesson i'm getting out of all this. I'm learning about happiness. Real happiness, divine and sustainable happiness. These kids are happy and it is totally stupendous. That's what I adore in them so much.
Actually, there is this one girl named Namatovu. My given Luganda name is Namatovu, and so this girl already has a special place in my heart. BUT! Man oh man do i adore this child. All those kids are so special and mean so much, but Namatovu has somthing in her that I have fallen in love with. She is 4. A little one, but she has a really old soul. You can tell just by looking at her; she looks like a grandmother. (Actually, her mother just died and so she is living with an old woman she calls her grandmother). She is just a child, only 4, and yet she has the most outrageous and loud personality. Most kids sort of shy away from the Mzungu (although they are getting used to me) but this kid... no way! If i tickle the kids they usually back off but Namatovu steps right up there and tickles me back. Unfortunately, although she is 4, she is already a leader and all the kids take her lead. It's really hard to escape 100 african kids trying to tickle you, not even houdini could get out! These are all reasons I love her to death. Now, alot of volunteers come through and want to sponsor a kid or two. It's hard because we can't just have some kids being sponsored and some kids not. Distressed by this I have come up with a rather fool proof way to get kids sponsored. So I was thinking about sponsoring Namatovu. I really really want to, it'll cost a little less then sponsoring a kid through world vision, but i'm a student next year... will i have the money? Well, while i was still thinking about it i was playing with her and a few other kids. They were on their way home and so just before she goes Namatov decides to go the the bathroom. This is how the scene plays out...
01. Namatovu runs inside.
02. Namatovu runs outside, takes off her underwear ouside the latrine on the ground and runs back in.
03. Namatovu goes to the bathroom whilst singing at the top of her glorious lungs. It was loud enough that everybody could hear, through the door and across the project.
04. Namatovu is still singing about 10 minutes later and her older sister is yelling at her to get out.
05. Namatovu finally comes out, and spends a good 5 minutes putting on and adjusting her underwear.
06. Ally almost dies of laughter and realizes that she has met her soul mate and must absolutely sponsor this child.
So, It's pretty much a done deal, I think I'll be sponsoring Namatovu :).
Also this week. ... I cleaned wounds. I've never used my first aid training like this before.
What happened was this kid cut his toe on a nail in the goat shack. He's crying, the teachers don't really know what to do, so I say "we'll get him a band-aid!" These kids have never had shoes before so you can imagine how bad it is to have a cut on your foot. They've also never seen band-aids before... Before I know it; i've put this band-aid on this kid and cleaned his wound (all while wearing gloves since probably about half have HIV). Suddenly i'm surrounded by about a billion kids. "okay," I think " guess we'll get some first aid happening, tha'ts good, clean some cuts". But these kids had cuts everywhere. And they wern't really cuts either... they were more like wounds and they were almost all infected. They all looked the same, mainly were on legs, and they were all different sizes. I realize after a teacher tells me, these kids have Syphillus. Now, I don't really know anything about syphillus, except what i've learned here (why oh why did i not pay attention to the boring parts of sex ed like "STD's"?). When you have syphillus it eventually starts to create wounds which pop out of nowhere on your skin. They are extremely painful. Then it affects your nervous system, then your brain and eventually you die. So now suddenly HIV isn't the only worry....
This one kid had about three wounds on his leg. I clean all of them, wrap one because it's too big for a band aid. Figuring i'm done he then pulls up the side of his shorts to reveal a massive grouping of wounds, infected beyond anything i've ever seen. He only bathes once every two weeks. He's from a child run home, so he bathes himself, and of course... no soap! how do you clean a wound like that? I clean it for the first time ever, and this kid is in agonizing pain. Done and wraped he then tells us about another one. He pulls down his pants and his entire butt (not cheek, but crack and lower back) is one gian wound. It's totally infected. How does this kid sit? I clean that too, but of course can't wrap it.
I feel terrible for these poor kids, suffering of syphillus. It's terrible, I wish I knew more so I could actually help them more... todays quick internet search! bleh. Syphillus doesn't really affect our society so much because people can get treatment, why would I learn about it? I wish so much now that I had. So much. (I'm sure if my planing teachers had said "you have to learn this to be able to help those in developing countries where it affects people most!" I would have paid great attention)
Next week will be great though! It's testing week! yay! We're testing all the kids and about 100 guardians (and other adults from the village) for HIV. Fantastic stuff. I'm telling you now it was a bitch to put togehter... without sparing too many details of absolute corruption... but it's together now and that's what counts. right? Plus they are also getting councelling and the group who is giving the councelling TASO (fantastic organization) said they have treatment for 80 kids, but no kids! Step in House of Hope! We'll see how things play out, but all the same I'm praying (yes, me, praying...to whom I don't know, just thought I'd give it a go) that most of these kids don't have AIDS.
Guess the beer this weekend will either be one in celebration or one in regret.
Happy days and Happy adventures...
I realize this will probably be actually well written blogspot number one since i've arrived in Kyazanga, sorry about that. It's been a really busy time. I absolutely love it. Actually, "love it" would be an understatement. No word has been made in the english language to describe how I feel. So just imagine with me:
These kids. These kids at House of Hope. They are, they are... unbelievable! When they have music time and they sing and dance I get this overwhelming desire to cry. Just tears of happiness. There is something really really special about these kids; i adore them so much. Especially when you visit their homes and see how 9 are sleeping in one room, on the dirt floor with no blanket you think "how on earth do these kids come to school everyday and laugh and sing and dance? How are these kids happy?"
I think that's probably the biggest lesson i'm getting out of all this. I'm learning about happiness. Real happiness, divine and sustainable happiness. These kids are happy and it is totally stupendous. That's what I adore in them so much.
Actually, there is this one girl named Namatovu. My given Luganda name is Namatovu, and so this girl already has a special place in my heart. BUT! Man oh man do i adore this child. All those kids are so special and mean so much, but Namatovu has somthing in her that I have fallen in love with. She is 4. A little one, but she has a really old soul. You can tell just by looking at her; she looks like a grandmother. (Actually, her mother just died and so she is living with an old woman she calls her grandmother). She is just a child, only 4, and yet she has the most outrageous and loud personality. Most kids sort of shy away from the Mzungu (although they are getting used to me) but this kid... no way! If i tickle the kids they usually back off but Namatovu steps right up there and tickles me back. Unfortunately, although she is 4, she is already a leader and all the kids take her lead. It's really hard to escape 100 african kids trying to tickle you, not even houdini could get out! These are all reasons I love her to death. Now, alot of volunteers come through and want to sponsor a kid or two. It's hard because we can't just have some kids being sponsored and some kids not. Distressed by this I have come up with a rather fool proof way to get kids sponsored. So I was thinking about sponsoring Namatovu. I really really want to, it'll cost a little less then sponsoring a kid through world vision, but i'm a student next year... will i have the money? Well, while i was still thinking about it i was playing with her and a few other kids. They were on their way home and so just before she goes Namatov decides to go the the bathroom. This is how the scene plays out...
01. Namatovu runs inside.
02. Namatovu runs outside, takes off her underwear ouside the latrine on the ground and runs back in.
03. Namatovu goes to the bathroom whilst singing at the top of her glorious lungs. It was loud enough that everybody could hear, through the door and across the project.
04. Namatovu is still singing about 10 minutes later and her older sister is yelling at her to get out.
05. Namatovu finally comes out, and spends a good 5 minutes putting on and adjusting her underwear.
06. Ally almost dies of laughter and realizes that she has met her soul mate and must absolutely sponsor this child.
So, It's pretty much a done deal, I think I'll be sponsoring Namatovu :).
Also this week. ... I cleaned wounds. I've never used my first aid training like this before.
What happened was this kid cut his toe on a nail in the goat shack. He's crying, the teachers don't really know what to do, so I say "we'll get him a band-aid!" These kids have never had shoes before so you can imagine how bad it is to have a cut on your foot. They've also never seen band-aids before... Before I know it; i've put this band-aid on this kid and cleaned his wound (all while wearing gloves since probably about half have HIV). Suddenly i'm surrounded by about a billion kids. "okay," I think " guess we'll get some first aid happening, tha'ts good, clean some cuts". But these kids had cuts everywhere. And they wern't really cuts either... they were more like wounds and they were almost all infected. They all looked the same, mainly were on legs, and they were all different sizes. I realize after a teacher tells me, these kids have Syphillus. Now, I don't really know anything about syphillus, except what i've learned here (why oh why did i not pay attention to the boring parts of sex ed like "STD's"?). When you have syphillus it eventually starts to create wounds which pop out of nowhere on your skin. They are extremely painful. Then it affects your nervous system, then your brain and eventually you die. So now suddenly HIV isn't the only worry....
This one kid had about three wounds on his leg. I clean all of them, wrap one because it's too big for a band aid. Figuring i'm done he then pulls up the side of his shorts to reveal a massive grouping of wounds, infected beyond anything i've ever seen. He only bathes once every two weeks. He's from a child run home, so he bathes himself, and of course... no soap! how do you clean a wound like that? I clean it for the first time ever, and this kid is in agonizing pain. Done and wraped he then tells us about another one. He pulls down his pants and his entire butt (not cheek, but crack and lower back) is one gian wound. It's totally infected. How does this kid sit? I clean that too, but of course can't wrap it.
I feel terrible for these poor kids, suffering of syphillus. It's terrible, I wish I knew more so I could actually help them more... todays quick internet search! bleh. Syphillus doesn't really affect our society so much because people can get treatment, why would I learn about it? I wish so much now that I had. So much. (I'm sure if my planing teachers had said "you have to learn this to be able to help those in developing countries where it affects people most!" I would have paid great attention)
Next week will be great though! It's testing week! yay! We're testing all the kids and about 100 guardians (and other adults from the village) for HIV. Fantastic stuff. I'm telling you now it was a bitch to put togehter... without sparing too many details of absolute corruption... but it's together now and that's what counts. right? Plus they are also getting councelling and the group who is giving the councelling TASO (fantastic organization) said they have treatment for 80 kids, but no kids! Step in House of Hope! We'll see how things play out, but all the same I'm praying (yes, me, praying...to whom I don't know, just thought I'd give it a go) that most of these kids don't have AIDS.
Guess the beer this weekend will either be one in celebration or one in regret.
Happy days and Happy adventures...
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