The past two weeks

Last weekend was my first full weekend with my host family. On Saturday morning, two of my host sisters and the woman who works for the family and I went to the neighborhood outdoor market. There were people selling all kinds of different wares and it was divided into different sections based on the different products. There was the clothes section which consists mostly of used clothes from Western countries, there was the meats section (I avoided that...), the fruits and vegetables, the housewares, and so on. It was a whole morning affair to go to the market and shop for the food for the week, very different from the in and out mentality of a trip to the supermarket at home. My sisters would see people they know and catch up, greet community members, and bargain on the prices for each item. In most situations here bargaining is expected and is a friendly social practice. There is this green leafy vegetable that is boiled when it is prepared (it tastes like steamed spinach)that is very popular here. We bought some at the market, and waited for an hour while the woman ground it with an enormous mortar type thing. I couldn't help thinking that people in the US would never be patient enough to wait for this! I appreciated the fact that it felt more community-based, like the community came together to buy from each other, sell their products and for some people, to catch up on the week's events. At the same time, however, it did not seem like the care-free attitude of a farmers market at home. It was very hot out, and there was almost a sense of desperation and urgency. You could really tell that people's livelihoods depended on selling these goods, and there were young children weaving through the people with various types of fruits and vegetables on their heads, also trying to make a living. My host sister told me that orphans often start working from a very young age in order to make money to live.

On Sunday, my family took me to church with them. It was an enormous room that looked like a big gym or community center, with very little indication that it was in fact a church. The service was conducted both in Kinyerwanda and Swahili, with two people leading the service in two languages at the exact same time. I was definitely a little confused about what was going on at first! A couple of minutes into the service a man came and motioned for me to follow him. He took me to the side of the front of the church, where two chairs were sitting side by side. Another man came and sat down beside me and told me that he was the translator. He sat next to me for the entire three hour and 15 minute service, translating everything into English. The songs were beautiful, and it was clear that the service was affecting many of the congregants strongly, as some started crying or were singing with looks of pain, anguish, or hope on their faces during the different songs. Religion is a very big part of life here and has played a very interesting part both in the genocide and in reconciliation efforts, but i will write more about that when i have more time.

Last week, my group spent the first three days in a city in Southern Rwanda called Butare. We were staying on the campus of the National University of Rwanda. On the way to Butare, we stopped at the Murambi Genocide Memorial. Before the genocide, they were building a vocational school on this hilltop. When the genocide began, messages spread on the radio told Tutsi to go to the school to seek refuge. It was all a trap, however, because one day in April in 1994, Hutu militia came to kill everyone that was hiding there. About 50,000 people were killed, and only four people survived. After the massacre, the bodies were thrown into mass graves in order to hide what had happened. After the genocide, the mass graves were dug up, and some of the bodies were preserved with limestone and placed back in the classrooms in order to show people the awful things that occurred in this place.

I wasn't sure how i was going to react to the memorial- would i be emotional? Would i shut down and feel numb? I had only ever seen one dead body up close, and that had been my grandmother right before she was buried. I knew that the bodies wouldn't look like she had, because we would be seeing them 16 years after their last heartbeat. My first impression when we got to the site took me by surprise. I was struck by how beautiful the surroundings were. There were rolling green hills, houses nestled into the hillsides, and wildflowers spread throughout the grass creating patches of bright, beautiful color. However, my thoughts of the beauty of the location were quickly surmounted by the immense gravity and deep sadness of the situation that had occurred there.

Our guide told us a little bit about the school that was being built there, how it had turned into the site of a massacre, and the role that the French soldiers played when they set up camp there shortly after the massacre. We then walked to the first block of classrooms. I was towards the back of the group, so I saw everyone walking into the first classroom, and the looks on the faces of the first couple of people who walked out. As it was my turn to go in, I hesitated and had a moment of panic about what I was about to see. However, I continued to put one foot in front of the other, almost as if in a daze, and was then standing beside a row of preserved bodies. Some of the bodies were missing hands or other limbs, heads were separated from bodies, and some faces were forever stuck in looks of fear or pain. I felt torn between wanting to avert my eyes so that I was not staring at the bodies of these people who were killed in such cruel circumstances, and the urge to really look at them and implant their image in my mind so that i would never forget the affects of what happened there. One of the things that struck me about the bodies as I walked through the classrooms was that I could create no real picture and almost any picture in my head of these people, because from looking a these preserved bodies, they could have been anyone. Many of the Tutsi were identified during the genocide by their looks, however these features that had led to their death have faded into anonymous, partly decomposed body parts. While it did feel connected to all the Rwandan history i have been learning about, it also felt like a universal genocide memorial because it made me think about how these bodies could be the remains of anyone.

When i began to think of how each of these bodies had been a real person with hopes, dreams, problems and pasts, it became very overwhelming. It became even more overwhelming when i thought about how the bodies were just a small percentage of the people killed in this massacre, let alone in the entire genocide. However, I tried to control these thoughts and focus on the place i was in and the images that i was seeing in the moment. The thought that kept running through my head was, "what a waste." The lives of so many people were ended prematurely because of a lot of hate a socially constructed differences. From learning the history that led up to the genocide, I understand in a step-by-step sort of way how it happened, but on an abstract and ideological level, it is still so difficult for me to comprehend.

As I walked through the rooms of Murambi, I was somehow both numb and internally emotional, but not externally emotional. Though it sounds impossible to be both numb and emotional and the same time, it was such a mix of thoughts, emotions and feelings cycling through my head. The moment it all became real for me was when as i was coming out of the last classroom, I caught a glance of one of the four survivors from the massacre standing about 20 feet away. He was just standing there, watching us experience only a tiny portion of what he had experienced here 15 years ago. While this was a topic of study for us, this was his reality. He had sought refuge in this school and had been one of the extremely tiny percentage to come out alive. Seeing him made the whole thing so much more real because it somehow gave a face to those nearly faceless bodies, because though he was alive and they were dead, it could have just as easily been him in one of those rooms. That sounds absolutely awful to say, but it struck me really hard and it was at that moment that my emotions really took a hold of me.

As we exited the main hall of the school and walked to the hillside where the mass graves had once been, I was partially transported back to the present day. Though those harrowing images were still stuck in my mind, the sun was shining and i could hear children laughing and playing nearby. It seemed like such a strange contrast, but it showed me that life really just does have to go on. The genocide survivors who i have met here have all said this and it has been hard to comprehend, but it is true. It does no good to live solely mourning the past, and it is necessary to move into the future. The sound of children laughing was the most beautiful sound after just seeing such death and destruction, and left me with a sense of hope for both the healing of the people of Rwanda and humanity as a whole.

We were staying in singles in a hostel on campus, and none of us wanted to sleep alone that night. We moved all the furniture out of two of the rooms and moved all of the mattresses into those two rooms. After such an intense and emotionally draining day, we wanted to just be together, listen to music and try to get our minds off of the bad things in the world. After dinner, all 13 people in my group (12 girls and 1 guy) put on our pajamas, grabbed our pillows and headed to the room dubbed the "sleepover room." It was so nice to just relax, flush through some of our thoughts together, and then sing really loudly to bad (and good) american music. The door barely opened because of all the mattresses filling the room, and at one point the nun who works there knocked on the door. We immediately jumped onto Lewie (the one guy) so she wouldn't see him, but we realized that was pointless since the door only opened a couple of inches anyway. Luckily, she had come to ask what time we wanted breakfast and not to tell us to stop singing or ask about out crazy rearrangement of furniture. It must have looked truly bizarre though. Needless to say, we slept in the two mattress filled rooms (well, besides Lewie), happy for the company of friends.

We stayed in Butare for two more days, but i will have to write about the rest next time because it is beginning to get dark and i have to get home! But get excited to hear about this past weekend, I'll give you a sneak preview: it involves knee-deep mud, a gorilla and a volcano!

Homestay

I've now been in Rwanda for five days, though it feels like a lot longer! We have now moved into our homestays and settled into our schedule and classes. I am taking a class on Post Conflict Transformation, National and Ethnic Identity, Field Study and then my Independent Study which will be for the last month. I moved in with my host family the day before yesterday. The family consists of a mom, dad, six kids and the grandparents and an uncle that lives with them, so it is a busy household! The first night was difficult because there is SOO much to adjust to and it's hard to know what you're supposed to do, how things work, etc, especially because a lot of the family doesn't speak english. Most people here speak Kinyerwanda and French, but i've been finding more and more people who speak english. And, i've had a lot of opportunities to practice my Kinyerwanda! I guess foreigners don't generally know the language, so the people here LOVE IT when we try to speak Kinyerwanda (and they enjoy laughing at our attempts!) I have to go catch the bus because it's getting dark, but I promise a long post soon!!

Kampala and Kigali!!

Hello everyone!!

I can't believe I've been here now for almost a week! After my two ten hour plane rides, an 8 hour layover in amsterdam (with some snow-filled exploring!), an hour long plane ride, a lost bag, and about 7 hours in the ugandan airport, I arrived in Kampala! there is so much to say and so little time to write, but i will try to summarize as best as possible!

We stayed in a hotel in Kampala for 4 nights for the first part of orientation with everyone in the program (there are 27 of us). We did various orientation-type sessions (like talking about fears, expectations, ground rules, academic components, culture shock, etc), had some time to explore Kampala, went to the tombs of the Bagandan kings, saw the university, and had various other adventures! Kampala is a very crowded city with CRAZYY traffic (you literally just run across the street and hope to not get hit... there are no traffic light or crosswalks, or many rules when it comes to driving. i learned very quickly that pedestrians do not have the right of way!!) One night when we were free to have dinner wherever we wanted, i ended up having dinner at the house of a ugandan family. one of the girls in my program had met a ugandan girl our age the week before (she got here early) and when we went to visit her at the shop she works at, she invited us over for dinner! she lives with her two older sisters (one is 24 and one is 27) and her younger brother (the rest of their family still lives in the village that they are from) and they live in a part of the city that i had never been to before. it was so wonderful! when we first got to their house the electricity was out, so we sat in their living room lit by candlelight and they taught us how to eat jackfruit,it was like nothing i had ever had before! (Gwen, the texture would have been a huuuuge issue for you, haha). then the power went on and we all sat around the living room and made dinner (chopped up all different types of veggies and then put them over boiled potatoes) talking about our love lives, the ugandan economy, the war, school, and making fun of the soap opera that was playing on the tv. It was so nice to have such a wonderful and genuine interaction with ugandans around our age that we had just met, they were so warm and welcoming!!

yesterday our group of 27 split into two groups, and one went to gulu in northern uganda and one went to kigali, to capital of rwanda, and we will switch in a month. my group had a 12 hr bus ride from kampala to kigali, it was such a beautiful drive! we arrived at about 6pm and two of the other people on the program and i went on a walk to explore kigali. we ended up walking really far and getting sort of lost, but we eventually found our way back in time for dinner! we had our first kinyerwanda class today! they speak mostly kinyerwanda and french here which is definitely something to get used to after kampala, where nearly everyone knew english. i move in with my host family on tues, but up until then we are staying in a hotel and there is a balcony right outside my door that looks out over kigali, soooo beautiful!!

Ok, I need to run- we're about to go to an Ethiopian restaurant for dinner, but I love you all and hope that everything is going well with you! New York people, i hear it is snowing there! So hard to imagine in the heat here! Please write to me and tell me how you are doing, i miss you guys!

love love love,
frees

Ecuador

From January 7-January 17^th I was in Ecuador with this wonderful group of women. I feel like there is soooo much to say about it and in the midst of packing for Uganda and trying to get ready for this next adventure, I’m afraid I won’t be able to adequately describe it… but, nonetheless, here is my attempt!

We lived at this beautiful hacienda that is home to the NGO we were working with, FBU. (You can read more about it here: http://www.fbu.com.ec/fbu_ecuador.htm) Our day began each morning when we heard the breakfast bell ringing from downstairs (though breakfast was at a set time, it was really “when the bell rings” which was refreshing and set a different pace). We’d all make our way downstairs and sit at the enormous table that fit all 18 of us and was decorated with colorful fresh flowers from the garden, with the sun shining in through the window that filled the whole wall. My favorite parts of breakfast each day were the warm milk from the cows that had been milked that morning (into which we added coco powder or coffee powder, so good!) and the scrambled eggs. I don’t usually have strong feelings about scrambled eggs, but these seemed to taste so different than any other scrambled eggs I’d ever had! I wish I had asked how they made them, because the scrambled eggs I made when I got home just did not measure up. Pretty much all of the food we ate there was from the farm/garden and it felt so cleansing to know exactly where the food I was eating had come from, and to be eating all fresh, organic foods. It made me much more aware of what I was putting into my body, and it felt good to be eating good things!

This is Ana and I with two of the women who run the movement for Women's Reproductive and Sexual Rights in Ecuador

Each day was completely different and completely wonderful. Though we were doing different things each day, there was a nice routine to it, and I really enjoyed that time was more based on what we had just done or what we were about to do, and less based on the timing of a mechanized clock. Most days we had breakfast, let the food settle and got ourselves together, did something in the morning, had lunch in the early afternoon (around 2:30ish), did something in the afternoon, had dinner (around 7:30ish), had a group discussion, did some sort of other activity (like have a bonfire, have a dance party with the Ecuadorian high school students we were staying with, etc.) and then hung out in our rooms together. During the day we spoke with amazing people who are all working to improve the situation in their communities in some way. Some of them were running women’s rights type organizations and some were running other community based organizations and were the first women to have the position they held. Some of them were focused on other issues in the community, like promoting eco-agriculture, helping to teach the local community organic farming practices, or were teachers in the local school. Each person had so much information and perspective to share with us, and I felt myself really engaging in each conversation in a way that I’m not sure I always do in a classroom in school. It felt so real and invigorating to be learning about the issues from the people who are taking them head on, instead of through some random website or an outdated book. It was both exciting and upsetting, because though we were learning the ways in which these people are dedicating their effort, their time and their spirit to try to improve people’s lives in their communities, some of the obstacles they are fighting against are so large and powerful- the government, oil companies, foreign rose plantation owners… the list goes on. It’s so frustrating that they have to tackle these enormous powers over things that they shouldn’t have to be fighting for in the first place (like the right to prevent one of the most biodiverse habitats in the world from being turned into an oil mine) but it is inspiring to hear from the people who are up for the challenge and who are putting all their love and effort into what they believe in.

I recently saw this in an article (you can read the rest of the article here: http://www.utne.com/Spirituality/The-Art-of-a-Lively-Conversation.aspx) and it made me think of how we often do not really open up to people and share what we are really thinking about and feeling, but those inhibitions seemed to melt away while we were in Ecuador, creating a space for real, honest dialogue. “Finding oneself in a good conversation is rather like stumbling on a beautiful square in a foreign city at night—and then never knowing how to get back there in daytime. Why do conversations go wrong? Shyness has a lot to answer for. We get scared of opening our souls because we falsely exaggerate the difference between ourselves and others. We imagine that others don’t share in our vulnerabilities or interests. We display only our strengths—and hence become boring, for it is in the revelation of our weaknesses, in the display of our mortality in all its dimensions, that people grow sympathetic….We should be braver. An evening comes alive when we meet people who express our very own thoughts, but with a clarity and psychological accuracy we could not match. They know us better than we know ourselves. What was shy and confused within us is unapologetically and cogently phrased in them, our pleasure at the meeting indicating that we have found a piece of ourselves, a sentence or two built of the very substance of which our own minds are made. The dinner party companion has located words to depict a situation we thought ourselves alone in feeling, and for a few moments, we are like two lovers on an early dinner date thrilled to discover how much they share (and so unable to do more than graze at the food in front of them).” Both the formal group discussions that we had each night, and the individual conversations that they sparked at meals, while lying in the sun, or in our rooms before bed, were so unlike conversations that a group of people who previously barely knew each other would have- at the risk of sounding corny, I’m going to go ahead and say it was pretty magical. During this short amount of time, I felt like we created one of the strongest communities I have ever been a part of because of our willingness to give of ourselves to each other by sharing our pasts, thoughts, ideas, inconsistencies and vulnerabilities. By sharing these parts of ourselves that are not on the surface during our day-to-day lives, we were able to immediately shed the superficial layers and quickly move to more meaningful relationships. Because we then had a strong basis to move from, our discussions were more nuanced, our questions dug deeper and our answers were more honest. I wish that this form of relationship-building was more commonly practiced in our day to day lives, but in the fast-paced world that we live in (well at least at Columbia) I think its hard for people to find time to just sit and talk, and enjoy each other’s presence. Though it sometimes may really be a lack of time, I think it really is a mindset issue; we can make the time if we make it a priority. And I’m definitely not advocating dropping the other things we do to just sit around and talk all the time, but I do think that we get so wrapped up in our responsibilities and to-do lists, that we forget how important it is to value and nurture our relationships. I hope to keep this in mind as I head to a new place where I know absolutely no one, and as I eventually return to reconnect with all of the wonderful people in my life in the US.

Just to quickly some up some of the other stuff we did… we learned how to milk a cow (and got unlucky in our timing, I guess the cow decided to leave us with something to remember her by and relieved herself while we were crowded around her- cow poop splashes all around!), painted a mural in the local school, taught an English lesson at this school (i.e. taught them the song “head, shoulders, knees and toes” and then played a bunch of fun games) learned about indigenous beliefs, had some pretty intense games of Uno, Twister and Apples to Apples, played soccer with the Ecuadorian high school students, watered plants as part of a reforestation project, worked on the farm, petted a two-day old calf (sooo cute!!), straddled the Equator, climbed a volcano, swam in natural hot springs surrounded on all sides by mountains (I apparently almost kicked our tour guide in the face during my brief synchro demonstration…oops!), sat around a roaring bonfire, tried many different fruits for the first time, saw the most incredible starry sky (Ecuador is the only place you can see both northern and southern constellations), and played dress-up with some pretty adorable children! It was so nice to not worry about time, to be free from technology, and to just enjoy each other’s company in such a beautiful place!