TIG

So, we're back in Rwanda now. On the first full day back home, this past Friday, we went to visit TIG. I'm not entirely sure what it stands for, but it's the prison work program for genocide perpetrators. So basically, right after the genocide, there were tens of thousands of perpetrators who had to be dealt with as criminals. The government attempted to try them through the traditional justice system, but at the rate it was going, it would take over a hundred years to try everyone. So they implemented the gacaca court system. Gacaca (ga-cha-cha) is a traditional form of conflict resolution that was resurrected to deal with genocide criminals. They were locally organized and run and involved the community. If perpetrators confessed, apologized, and asked for forgiveness (from the victim's family), they would be given a sentence of no more than 25 years in the work camps. They would deduct the time already served in jail, and then the rest would be served out working in community improvement programs--basically rebuilding the country they destroyed. Inmates built roads, schools, hospitals, cut stones, etc. They were also sensitized and educated about patriotism, human rights, and the value of life. In their work, inmates are also reintroduced into the community as productive citizens.

The camp we visited was pretty basic. There were several dormitories for men and one for women. We got to walk through two, and they were essentially glorified tents. They were made out of tarps stretched over wooden frames and contained a row of beds on either side with a small walkway in the middle. And by beds, i mean a row of logs elevated off the ground on a wooden frame that were maybe covered with a blanket or two. Some had mosquito nets, some had maybe a book or a radio, but overall, they were pretty bare bones. We also went to see the kitchen where workers were cooking a huge pot of corn and beans--their meal everyday, multiple times a day.

We then went to meet with a group of inmates like we had at the refugee camp--except these people were completely different. They, three men and one woman, introduced themselves, acknowledged they were criminals being punished for genocide crimes, and said that they were happy to be working. We asked them questions about what exactly they were convicted of, how long they were there for, what they told their children about their current situation and past action, what sort of work they did, etc., and they gave us the most straightforward answers. Except for maybe a question or two when we asked what exactly they did. But once Apollo, our teacher, called them out on it, they were honest. Something completely different from how we were treated at the refugee camp. One participated in a group killing, one killed one person, one gave away the location of a victim in hiding, and one participated in a mass killing. They all acknowledged that what they did was wrong and told us about how they teach their families and communities that what they did was wrong and about how they seek to prevent genocide ideology and discrimination because, they said, they know better than anyone what happens when that sort of speech influences people. They were all very glad to be doing the work they were doing, and they said that they have learned many marketable skills that they can bring back to their communities to improve their infrastructure and to teach others. Overall, they were very straightforward and honest with us, seemed to regret the things they'd done, and appreciated the sentence they'd received.

Also, it's now the rainy season here, so that means cool-ish mornings, warm mid-days, and then a rush of a cold front right before the downpour which cools things off for the rest of the day. It's pretty cool to see the rain move across the hills. It also gives me something to race on my way to my internship--which shall be the topic of my next post :)

Queen Elizabeth National Park

For the last few days of our trip, we stayed in a hostel at Queen Elizabeth National Park. The park apparently had another name before, but Queen Elizabeth I think visited one time and decided it should be named after her. Or something like that. This was the park where we were going on safari, so we kept our eyes peeled the whole drive into the park. We saw water bucks (kind of like deer but with much cooler horns), warthogs (which, yes, are called pumba in Swahili), and buffalo (but not like American buffalo). We went to bed early and got up the next morning at around 6 to leave for our game drive at 6:30. We were told by our guide that the big 4 mammals they had in the park were lions, buffalos, elephants, and leopards—which were the rarest. Within the first 5 minutes of leaving the hostel, we nearly ran over a leopard. It was still dark so we didn’t get the greatest pictures, but it was such a beautiful animal! After stalking it with the car for a while, we moved on and saw a herd of elephants! With a baby too :) Since it was still early, we also saw several hippos. Those things are huge! Apparently they come out of the water at night since it’s cooler to graze and then they return to the water during the day. We were right next to Lake Edward, Lake George, and a channel connecting the two, by the way. Half way done with the big 4 in the first 15 minutes! And actually, it was more like 3/4 of the way since we’d already seen the buffalos. Now onto the lions! We drove out into the park and passed many water bucks. They’re so pretty :) We saw a pack of cars (the most terrifying of all animals in Uganda) up ahead, and thinking they’d found a lion, we joined them. And we were right :) Way off in the distance, there was this dark blob moving around, which, our guide told us, was a male lion. Even with the binoculars, we couldn’t see him very well. So we hung around until most others got discouraged, made friends with an Israeli family with adorable kids, and when there were only a few vans left, all of the guides finally agreed to take us off the road into the grass where the lion was (which is illegal) and promised not to rat each other out—one of the guides even gave us a super excited smile and a thumbs up as we both drove off. Everyone piled in the vans and set off toward the lion—except for us. Our van decided that this would be a perfect time to break down. So about 5 minutes and a jump start later, we were off to go see the lion feeling very relieved. We approached him while he was lying next to a bush just relaxing. We ended up getting about 15 feet or so away from him, which was incredible. He sat up when we got closer, and we got amazing pictures!!! It was such an incredible experience :) Four for Four! We headed back to the hostel for breakfast, packing, and lunch before heading out on our boat ride that afternoon.

The boat ride was amazing! Also, I haven’t seen so many white people in one place in months. We set out along the channel that connected the two lakes and headed toward Lake George. We crossed the channel to the shore opposite the dock and began trolling along the shore. We saw several buffalos and hippos sitting in the water cooling off, and apparently they have no problem living side by side since they’re both herbivores. We also saw a mama hippo with her day old baby, as per our guides, lying alone away from the school (apparently that’s what you call a group of hippos). Apparently when mama hippos are ready to give birth, they leave the school to give birth alone because if the baby is male, the older male(s?) in the school will try to kill it to get rid of the future competition. I’m not quite sure what happens if the baby is male. Maybe he leaves the mom when he’s able to take care of himself. But if it’s female, the mom will bring the baby back to the school. Next, we saw an elephant!!! It was amazing. And huge. I’ll post pictures soon, but they were absolutely amazing. The elephants we saw all had short tusks rather than long ones. Apparently short tusks have evolved to be the dominant trait because elephants who had long tusks were the ones who were poached for their tusks for the ivory trade. 

Kasese

We got here on Saturday night, and the next morning, we went on what was easily the best hike of my life. There are a ton of mountains here in western Uganda, and we got to hike along a river that runs through some of them. We started the hike in this one village, toured part of their hydroelectric power set up (which reminded me of a log flume), crossed a wood plank bridge, then set out on our journey up/along the mountain. We walked through the open forest first, which consisted of a bunch of banana and sugar cane farms mostly. And then came the fun part—the thick forest :) I literally felt like I was climbing through a jungle. The path got really narrow and really steep at some points to the point where we had to climb down a big drop off at one point. We were ducking under brush and balancing on logs as we walked over small streams. And speaking of, the river was amazing! It was huge and had a lot of momentum because it was coming from high up in the mountains. At one point, we could look up to the top of the mountains in the distance and see the top of the river. I think it’s all fed by snow melt—yes, there is snow in Africa—it’s just a 9 days hike up the mountains. The path passed right by the river at one point, so we all jumped in, hopping from rock to rock and trying not to get caught in the current—even though Ben nearly got sucked downstream :P We continued our hike up the mountains, and right at the point where the path started to loop back is where things started to get interesting. We were all being really quiet as per our guide’s instructions because we were all hoping to see monkeys, but that lasted all of about 5 minutes. The ground started getting really soft, and while Muna, our driver, managed to hop from log to log and stayed completely clean, the rest of us were not so coordinated. We ended up half way up to our shins in dirt and mud :P All the girls were wearing toms, mind you. We had no idea we were going on a hike, so I left my good shoes in Kigali. We were able to wash off in the streams we came across, but we only got dirtier as we went along. Once we got back into the open forest, the path really narrowed down, and sometimes, the path would give way and we’d nearly fall off the mountain. Fun times :) Once we got back to the bridge, we stopped off to wash our shoes. Overall, the hike was amazing :)

On Monday, we went to go visit another microfinance institution (except this one actually supported health, training, and other development skills). We talked with some of the employees first, and then we went out to a village to meet with a SACCO (a group of people that collectively takes out a loan) of women who each had different businesses (selling tomatoes, watermelon, cassava, etc.). We met with them in the space between two buildings. The ground was hard packed dirt, and we sat on sacks in a circle. There were about twenty or thirty of them, and they told us about the health and business trainings they received, their struggles, and their successes. The head of the microfinance institution was an interesting guy. At first he seemed like we were wasting his time, and then once we got to the village, he started drilling the women on their loans, businesses, practices, etc. like he was preparing them for a test. It was odd/entertaining.

The last excursion we had was to a co-op of farmers. They took us to go visit a cotton factory and a cotton farmer. The factory was pretty awesome. There are stray pieces of cotton all over the city because it’s a big industry in the area and there are constantly trucks driving by piled high with sacks of cotton. Many of them end up at this factory where the cotton is deseeded and compressed for sale. We passed by several barns spilling over with cotton on our way to the factory building. Inside the factory, there was this huge machine with several inputs where women were putting in the unprocessed cotton where it was then deseeded and combed, in a way, then dropped onto this conveyer belt where it was then sent to a compacter, then bound and bagged for sale. We all got to drop a bunch of cotton into the machine and see the clean cotton come out. It was pretty cool. I kept a little of it and made it into a braid :) Next, we went to the cotton field and heard the farmers talk about the cotton farming business, which seemed super unpredictable and occasionally profitable. And we all clandestinely (or not so clandestinely) went cotton picking. Deseeding cotton by hand proved rather entertaining for otherwise boring car ride. It also reminded me of the most racist field trip ever (youtube it if you don’t mind foul language :P).

Kampala

So, this week, we had 6 hours of classes a day all about microfinance. We had a different lecturer each time, so the consistency wasn’t all that great—we had a lot of repeat information, and it felt like each class was an intro class with a slightly different bent on the subject. But at least for three of the days, we got to go on excursions in the afternoon. On two of the days, we went to Finca and Centenary banks, institutions that both provided microloans. We met with managers of each of the banks, discussed their origins, their interest rates (which were like 15%-25% because the central bank charges so much and to curb their current inflation), their borrowers, and whatnot. We met with clients at each of the banks and asked about their businesses and loans. The first lady we talked to was super reserved (as per the culture’s prescription for women. Hrmph. I’ve become less culturally relative since coming here) and didn’t tell us much, but she did mention that she is now able to pay school fees for her kids, which was good. The second group we met with consisted of about ten people from a group of a hundred or so who all sold dried fish. Their group is a couple of years old, and consists of men and women who work in the adjacent market. We asked them a few questions about their lending and businesses, and then we went into the market to see where they worked.

The market was huge! It’s the biggest market in Kampala, and I’m assuming Uganda. People get there and open up shop at around 4 in the morning and close at 6 at night. We toured the sections with ginger, garlic, onions, and dried fish. The officers of the group showed us how they did business then we got to walk around for a bit. In addition to the tons of food, they had a section filled with used clothes. The used clothes market is huge here. It’s the reason I see “keep Austin weird” shirts on the way to school worn by people who have no idea what that means. Most of the clothes donated to goodwill, salvation army, and the like end up in developing countries like this one and are sold really cheaply, which kills the textile industry here. It’s interesting. Apparently there’s a documentary out there somewhere on this.

On our last day in Kampala, we visited the SIT office and met the SIT Uganda-Kampala kids who were all pretty cool. They also have programs in Gulu and…somewhere else in Uganda too. The next morning, we packed up and made the 6 hour trek to Kasese, where I’m finally writing this. Oh, and we found some American missionaries on the way. They’re getting really easy to spot. (hrmph)

Journey to Kampala

So, the next morning, we started the 5 or so hour trek to Kampala. Fortunately, the roads were paved and our bus was super comfy—padded fabric seats and only two people per seat! We stopped at the equator for a touristy opportunistic photo op. And to get eaten by a camel. So, at the equator, they had a little mini tourist town complete with a yellow line following the equator, gift shops, a chance to watch water spin different ways down a drain (for a fee of 10,000 /= (which I think is the sign for shillings) of course), and a camel! Where the camel came from, we had no idea. Oh, also, they had bathrooms with toilets. It was great. We went to go see the camel (who was just chilling there, I’m not even sure if he was tied to the tree or not), and a guy came out to tell us that it was 5,000 /= to take as many pictures as we wanted. Totally worth it :) Apparently the camel thought I was really interesting because whenever I would get near him, he would start biting (gumming, really) my arm, hair, shoulder, etc. I have pictures on facebook. We finished out our journey to Kampala and arrived at our hotel, which had air conditioning and wifi!! We felt so spoiled.

Kampala is huge. Not geographically—the actual city size is pretty small. There are several “suburbs” too (which are pretty much indistinguishable from the rest of Kampala and from each other), which gives the city a little more breadth, but what makes the city so huge is the abundance of tall buildings all packed together, the crazy traffic, and the pace. Everything moves so much quicker in Kampala than in Kigali, especially the motos (or boda bodas here) that decide to use the sidewalks as roads. Especially while you’re walking on them. Speaking of sidewalks, there are so many street vendors here. Especially at night. We would walk down the road our hotel was on (the roads have names here too!) every night to get Rolex (more on that in a bit), and we would walk past—and almost step on—several street vendors selling everything from clothes to shoes to peanuts (groundnuts here) to pirated copies of movies. We’d also walk past small children—and I mean small like babies—begging on the sidewalks. Apparently parents put their kids out to beg here, maybe because they think they look more pitiful and innocent? I don’t know. But it was so sad and frustrating that they would do that. It’s hard to tell if these families are professional beggars or what, and I don’t know if there are really any programs to get families like these off the street, but it was crazy to see what were probably two year olds sitting on the street in ragged clothes with their hands held open just waiting for someone to take pity on them. Of course we’ve been instructed not to give money out. It sets an expectation for other muzungus (white people/foreigners) and perpetuates the stereotype that we’re all rich and can just throw money around; it reinforces the idea that begging is profitable, and it’s bad for development. I know at least in Rwanda that if children are truly orphans like they say they are, then the police will automatically take them to an orphanage, but once you mention that idea they stop following you immediately. So it’s interesting. And sad.

The reason we went out late at night, though, was Rolexes. Not the watches, mind you, but the food. I don’t really know how they got their name, but they are the best and cheapest things in the world. Rolexes are chapatti (Indian flat bread, as I’ve come to learn) and scrambled eggs cooked flat rolled together like a breakfast burrito, kind of. We ate those for dinner every night along with juice, chips, and/or cookies from a gas station (excuse me, petrol station) on the way home and managed to make a profit off the stipend we were given.

Another thing about Uganda in general, there is so much trash everywhere. Rwanda is ridiculously clean, we’ve come to find out. The roadsides everywhere—from urban Kampala to relatively rural Kasese—are covered with plastic bags, bones, bottles, scraps, and whatnot. It will be weird but nice to get back to a super clean country.

The Africa that Everyone Expected

So, I’m in Africa. Not the Africa I’ve known for the past month or so, but the Africa of stereotypes. The dirt roads for miles (kilometers, excuse me), pantsless boys, refugees, camels, mud brick and thatched roof houses, cows and goats running across the road, dozens of languages, savannah where you’re expecting to see a giraffe any minute—stuff like that. And wide stretches of nothing, which is so unlike Rwanda. Oh, I’m in Uganda, by the way.

So, we left Kigali Friday morning and said goodbye to the new kiddos. They’re still super loud, but they seem to be rolling with everything pretty well. Oh, and we had a spa party before we left. We were delayed for an hour, so we all did our nails :) Well, at least some of us did. Ben refused :P The drive to the border took about an hour and a half. We got there, got our passports stamped, changed a little bit of money, then continued on up to Mbarara, Uganda. I tried looking for differences between the two countries, but the most I could find on that drive was cows being driven across the road by 5 year olds, goats grazing alongside the road, and houses that were made out of mud bricks and sticks that looked a little less well put together than those in Rwanda. My mama wanjye (“my” in Kinyarwanda, which is how we differentiate who we’re talking about here) told me that all the American students they’ve hosted before come back saying that they like Rwanda a lot better. I think I’m going to agree, but I think I’m going to have a good time here.

On Saturday, we went to visit a refugee settlement about 2 hours east of Mbarara where Rwandan as well as Congolese, Somali, Eritrean, Kenyan, Burundian, and other refugees lived. 56,000 refugees lived there in all, including 9,173 Rwandese refugees. The World Food Programme provides 7.5 kg of maize/person/month along with a few other food supplies, but this is nowhere near enough food, so the refugees also have land that they’re allowed to cultivate. They use this food for their own sustenance, and many also sell their crops to generate income. Others have livestock or own shops in the settlement. When people come to the camp, many expect to be resettled in more developed countries, but this isn’t a realistic expectation as there are so many of them. Most experienced some sort of trauma in their home countries and therefore say they are unable to return. Some voluntarily repatriate (about 5%), but most don’t. It seemed like a lot of them either were or felt stuck there. Many of the Rwandan refugees, from what we’ve learned, fled during or soon after the genocide, but many of them were fleeing the RPF, the group that put an end to the genocide, and not the genocidiers. In other words, many of them are either perpetrators or family of perpetrators, not victims. Because of this, the Rwandan government has been putting a lot of pressure on Uganda and other places where Rwandan refugees are to repatriate the refugees. The Rwandan government tried once to forcefully repatriate these refugees, but it was apparently super chaotic because so many flat out refused, and a few people ended up dying. Many also immediately returned. Now the Rwandan government has asked that no Rwandan refugees be given land to cultivate, cutting off a major food supply. The Ugandan government complied for a while, but after seeing so many suffering, it sounded like they began turning a blind eye to those who violated the policy. And there are still 9,000 of them there, so I doubt they’re going anywhere anytime soon. Well, til June 2013, at least. There’s a cessation clause that takes effect then that removes the title of refugee from all Rwandans in exile, thus removing their protections as refugees, which I assumes leaves them with the title of illegal immigrant unless they apply for something otherwise.

We first met with a group of Rwandan refugees. It took about 15 minutes to get a group of 5 of them, including our translator who was the leader of all the refugees and of the Rwandans. And of course he had a significant bias of his own. We knew the discussion with the Rwandan refugees would be heavily biased and contrary to everything we’ve learned so far, so we were prepared to take everything they said pretty critically. Apparently the refugees fear that people like us (white people, foreigners, etc.) who come to the camp are spies, and so they’re all afraid to talk to us or be seen by us. When we finally got a group, we asked them why and when they came to the camp, where they were during the genocide, what their role was, if they considered going back and why or why not, what life was life in the camp, what challenges they faced, etc. We heard a lot of things like Hutus “don’t feel well” in Rwanda, “the RPF attacked our country” (implying that the RPF wasn’t Rwandan, which it was, and that the country belonged to the genocidiers)

The ride back was super bumpy and hot, but we made it back to the hotel that night and crashed. Oh, the food at that hotel was the best! I’ve developed quite a love of chapatis (somewhere between tortillas and pita bread), the peas they had were flavored with curry, and they had spaghetti with tomato sauce! It was the best. 

Pineapple bushes

So, in the interest of time, I'm going to use a paper I had to write this week as my post. It might be a little drab writing wise, but it was a pretty cool trip :) By the way, Sina Gerard is this super entrepreneur in Rwanda.

On Wednesday of this week, we went to a city in the north to go visit Sina’s enterprise. We arrived in town and were taken to a nearby restaurant where we were greeted by one of Sina’s employees who spoke English. He told us how Sina began by selling donuts, moved to selling juice, then began providing farmers with seeds free of charge and opened up schools (nursery, primary, and secondary) that were primarily for the children of farmers who supplied him with raw materials. He now also sells wine, banana beer, and banana wine as well as a variety of flours and biscuits. We had lunch at the restaurant, then our guide took us to see the farms in Sina’s enterprise.

We first visited some of the cows. They had both black and white cows and Rwandan cows. He then led us outside to the garden where they grow strawberries and macadamia nuts. We were allowed to taste the strawberries, and even though they were tiny, they were full of flavor. We next went to go visit the school that Sina opened. When we arrived, all of the children were in class, so we didn’t get swarmed like we usually do. The school has nursery, primary, and secondary sections all in one building. We went to visit the secondary section and introduced ourselves to the students. They were having a lesson on business. After the school, we went to go visit another farm that had apples, pineapples, acorn squash, and more strawberries. I had never seen a pineapple plant before, so that was very interesting. I was never really sure how pineapples grew, but I guess I had always assumed they grew on trees rather than on a plant on the ground. It was interesting to see the different pineapples in various stages of growth so that I could see just how they grew on the plant. The apple trees at the farm were very different from apple trees in America. Whereas apple trees in America are tall and stocky, these trees were short and thin. The apples they produced were different as well. Whereas apples in America, even those that aren’t genetically modified, are round and full, these apples were almost cylindrical and not quite as filled out. I guess this might be because apples aren’t endemic to Rwanda. I assume it’s the same for the strawberries. Whereas in America, strawberries, even non-genetically modified ones, are anywhere from medium sized to large, these strawberries are very small. I could also tell by the names used for these fruits (pomme and fraises, both French words) that they weren’t native to Rwanda.

                Next, we visited a more urban farm/zoo. Here, they kept turkeys, geese, monkeys, pigs, rabbits, and turtles. It seemed like the pigs and rabbits were kept as food animals, but the rest were kept just for viewing. I’m not so sure how I feel about that. The monkeys were kept in small cages and seemed very agitated. The pigs were interesting. The brochure we read earlier in the day said that they “survive on music,” and that was absolutely true. The pigs were listening to hip hop music and eating “strawberry mash.” It was definitely an interesting situation.

Finally, we went to go visit the juice-making factory. That particular day, they were making passion fruit juice. The factory contained a huge machine that stretched from one end of the building to the other. It began with a person loading passion fruits in to one end of the machine. The fruits were then washed and sorted by workers. The good fruits were funneled down a chute and lifted via conveyer belt to the top of the machine where they were then juiced and de-seeded. The juice was then pasteurized and filtered before it was bottled. The factory makes both concentrated juice and regular juice. 

So yeah, that was our visit. It was pretty cool. Now on to Uganda!

Only small things

So, I think I know where I’m interning.

The Missionaries of Charity, the order founded by Mother Teresa that works with “children, children with disabilities, and the dying destitutes,” has an orphanage/home here in Kigali, and it’s an amazing place.

I found the place by chance online when I was searching for orphanages to intern at (insert word here so as not to end a sentence with a preposition). I read up on the volunteer site for the original place in Calcutta (Kolkata? What’s the PC name?) and on the places in Peru, copied down the contact info for the home, and before I knew it, my teacher was calling and setting up an appointment for me to go visit. There’s this huge Catholic Church, Ste. Famille, that sits at the top of a hill close to downtown. I approached the church trying to find the orphanage, and despite my broken Kinyarwanda, I was able to find a guy who led me to the place. We walked down the hill on dirt roads behind the church for a few minutes until he pointed for me to go further down the hill and turn in at the gate. I walked/skidded down the steep hill, knocked on the gate, and was greeted by an older Indian nun. I explained to her who I was, what I was doing in Rwanda, and why I came to the orphanage. She gave me a tour of the place, which started by looking through the window at a room full of babies. I was immediately at home :) The facility/compound itself is average by Rwandan standards, but pretty bare bones by western standards. It’s the people that make the place, though, and they were wonderful. We stopped by a room next door that had about 15 toddlers, half of whom were able-bodied/minded and half of whom were mentally and/or physically disabled. I got to say hi to and play with them for a bit, then she took me to see the room where the kids exercise and do physical therapy 4 times a week. The room had toys, mats, balls, and a small set of parallel bars, which I assume they use to teach some of the kids how to walk. Next, we went to go see the classroom. From what I gather, some of the kids go to the Catholic school up the road, but some of them go to school there. I dunno, it wasn’t entirely clear. We walked into this small classroom where about 15 girls were having class. Right as we walked in, they immediately stood up and greeted me with “good morning!!” though the nun immediately corrected them and prompted them to say “good afternoon!!!” with equal enthusiasm. In the characteristic Rwandan child pitch and unison, they asked me “how are you?” to which I responded, as I’ve learned to do “I’m fine, thank you. How are you?” They told me they were fine, and then they began to sing “We are so happy you are here! We are so happy you are here!” in both English and, I think, French. God they were adorable. I clapped for them, thanked them, and followed the sister back outside. At this point, we were joined by two kids, a girl and a boy who were mentally challenged. I greeted them, let them see my notebook, and then held their hands as we continued down the hill to see the other residents. We went down the steps into a courtyard where several women and girls, who were also mentally challenged, were sitting and other people on the far end of the courtyard were praying. I greeted and introduced myself to the women and got several hugs from the girls :) After the people on the far end finished praying, we went over to meet them. Several of them were very elderly, so I felt honored to get to meet them. It’s not often you see Rwandans that are so old. We continued on, and the sister showed me the rooms where the men and women each slept. In each of these rooms, there was a person so mentally and physically disabled that all they could do was lie in bed. I tried to greet and introduce myself to each person I met and spend a little extra time with those who couldn’t necessarily respond to me. After I said goodbye to everyone, I asked the sister what the residents did all day. She said that those who were able to worked within the compound peeling vegetables, carrying water, and other things. On our way out, she took me in to meet the babies, who were absolutely adorable. I’m sure managing 20 or so babies is a bit difficult, but it’s definitely a task I’m up for. I asked her what the volunteers do, and she told me that they pretty much do anything—playing with the kids, entertaining them, and whatnot. I’m hoping I’ll be able to do as much as possible there if it works out. Even the nitty gritty like I’ve read on the blogs of people who’ve volunteered there—being with people as they are dying, being with them while they’re in pain or sick, washing, cooking, and whatnot. The volunteers can only be there from 8-10 and 3-5, so I don’t know if that’s enough time to satisfy SIT, but hopefully we’ll be able to work something out. The people there are genuinely happy to see you, and the kids are just adorable. I fully expect it to challenge me in every way, and I can’t wait to see how this internship will shape me and what it will teach me. I know that sounds like an ultimately selfish end, and believe me I do want to help and benefit this place and these people if I can, but from what I understand, people who volunteer with Missionaries of Charity feel like they’ve received so much more than they’ve given, so I’m excited to see how this turns out. And I’ll definitely have to improve my Kinyarwanda a lot :P

Also, just…Mother Teresa. I remember first learning about her in Reach in elementary school, and now I get to (at least attempt to) walk in her footsteps. She set this place up, and I can’t wait to really learn about this organization and these people.

Here’s a blog (or something) about someone who volunteered there: http://www.siena.edu/uploadedfiles/home/academics/majors_and_programs/amc/student_service_reports/Rwanda%20Wingle.pdf

That aside, this past week and a half have been pretty ordinary. Classes and two excursions—one to the free trade zone and one to a landfill/recycling plant of sorts. The free trade zone sounded pretty interesting, but right now it’s in its infancy. There was a grain elevator/factory in operation, but that was about the only thing that had been built there. Everything else was either under construction or soon to be built. I bet it’ll be great in about 5-10 years. The landfill/recycling plant (which is honestly neither in the western sense) is basically a trash collection place where workers sort out organic from inorganic waste, dry out the organic waste, grind it up, and then pass it through this machine which heated it and compacted it into logs (aka hippo poop) which were then sold and used instead of charcoal for cooking in homes, which thus helps prevent/lessen deforestation. These people are geniuses, man.

And that’s been my week. We leave for Uganda on Friday, so that’ll be fun. Safaris, muzungu special treatment, and English, here we come. Speaking of muzungus, the other SIT kids are here now. They’re adorable. And by adorable, I mean there terribly American, which isn’t terribly becoming, but they’ll learn. They’re pretty cool kids, though. Yankees and Californians, albeit, but still cool.

Tura subira :)