A Boring Week

Sorry about the lack of posting! I have spent the past week in bed while fighting a nasty viral infection. I am now feeling much better after a brief trip to Kigali to visit the Peace Corps doctors and I am looking forward to seeing my kids again since I missed an entire week of teaching. I don’t really have any fascinating stories since I really didn’t do anything except sleep and watch movies for 7 days, but here are some random updates:

– The electricity is now only on for a few hours a day at the convent and consistently goes off at about 6 pm which is rather obnoxious since that is just when it gets dark. The romance of candles was fun for a while but the great tragedy of candles is that they are not able to charge computers. So when there is no electricity I turn in pretty early, especially when my computer is dead.

– Today we had a day of silence at the convent. It was meant to be a day devoted to prayer and contemplation, which is great, but I was really nervous that I would forget and greet someone out of habit. I ended up writing the word “silence” on my hand in marker and it served as a nice reminder to keep my mouth shut all day.

– I watched a lot of Glee this past week and have reached the following conclusions:

1) Glee is a truly fantastic television show

2) In my next life I would really like to be blessed with the ability to sing

3) Sue Sylvester is absolutely hilarious and in my ample free time this week I have collected some of my favorite Sue quotes:

– “You know what, I checked out of our conversation about a minute back, so good luck with your troubles, and I’m gonna make it a habit not to stop and talk to students because this has been a colossal waste of my time.”

– “I’ll need to see the set list for sectionals, after all. I want them on my desk warm from the laminator at 5pm. If it is one minute late, I will go to the animal shelter and get you a kitty cat. I will let you fall in love with that kitty cat. And then on some dark cold night I will steal away into your home and punch you in the face.”

– “I’m reasonably confident you will be adding revenge to the long list of things you’re no good at, right next to being married, running a high school glee club, and finding a hair style that doesn’t make you look like a lesbian. Love ya like a sister.”

– “I don’t trust a man with curly hair. I can’t help picturing small birds laying sulfurous eggs in there, and I find it disgusting.”

– “That was the most offensive thing I’ve seen in 20 years of teaching—and that includes an elementary school production of Hair.”

– “Let’s break it down. You want to be creative. You want to be in the spotlight. Face it: you want to be me. So here’s the deal. You do with your depressing little group of kids what I did with my wealthy, elderly mother: euthanize it. It’s time.”

– “I am going to create an environment so toxic no one will want to be part of that club. Like the time I sold my house to a nice young couple and salted the earth in the backyard so that nothing could grow there for 100 years. Know why I did that? Because they tried to get me to pay their closing costs.”

– “I can’t stand the sight of kids getting emotional, unless it’s from physical exhaustion.”

If you have never seen Glee (shame on you) then this last part probably isn’t all that interesting. I highly recommend you watch at least a few episodes because there is always great singing and Sue is amazing! Hope you all are having a great weekend!

The Marble Game

Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for the children to be always and forever explaining things to them.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Last week I was hanging out with the kids at the orphanage while they were playing with marbles. They spread themselves out across the concrete porch and proceeded to play some type of game where you roll the marbles between the different players (although not always following the same rotation) and there was some sort of point system involved that I couldn’t quite understand. I finally sat down next to Zach (pictured above) and asked him to explain to me how one score points during this game. He tried explaining in English and when that failed he tried again in Kinyarwanda but it still didn’t make sense. I asked him if I could try playing to better understand the rules but I never sent the marbles in the right direction and they often went flying off the side of the porch and into the dirt. Zach would patiently fetch the marble for me and put it back into my hand as I tried over and over again to succeed at a game that appeared to follow no logical set of rules. Finally, with an exasperated sigh, he grabbed my hand led me to another spot on the porch. Thinking he was just assigning me a new position I sat down and was getting ready to play when he put his little hand on my shoulder and said sweetly, “Auntie Suzanna, you can watch from here, OK?”

I guess it truly is exhausting to always be explaining things to the grown-ups! 🙂

A Perfect Day

 

This is a journal entry from Tuesday. It was unfortunately followed by a few not-so-prefect days but I guess we can’t have every day be wonderful- without the bad days we wouldn’t know how to appreciate the good ones! 🙂

 

Well today was as close to a perfect day as it can get. I taught for two hours in the morning and then returned to the convent to work out and shower before my next class. At one point I was laying on the floor doing an arm exercise when my hand weights (aka large water bottles filled with dirty gutter water) started leaking and dripping onto my face. That was pretty gross but even the questionably clean water up my nose didn’t ruin the good mood I was in. After my work out I went out to the rain tank to get water and probably looked ridiculous. I was drenched in sweat and wearing a pink T-shirt, a black and white skirt (I had to put something on over my shorts to cover up those sexy knees) and my tennis shoes. I am pretty sure the workers think I am crazy. I ended up spilling my first bucket of water but it turned out to be a blessing because I have been meaning to mop this week so it gave/forced upon me the perfect opportunity to do some light cleaning. After fetching a second bucket of water I was finally able to clean up and get reading for my last hour of teaching. I returned to school, taught a lesson on future tense that they actually seemed to understand and enjoy, and returned to the convent for lunch. After lunch I returned to school so I could walk with Goreth to the main road on my way to visit Louis and Remy. Once we arrived at the main road we parted ways and I headed up the hill, ready for my favorite afternoon of the week- my time with Remy. When I arrived he was hungry and rather fussy but Diane, his mama, just put him on my lap and despite his screaming that is where he stayed. It is interesting because in America when a parent gives you a baby and it starts to cry they immediately take it back, but here they rarely do. Louis sat next to me watching TV and told Remy that I was his aunt so he shouldn’t be crying but despite this demand he continued to fuss. It turns out the poor guy was just ready for lunch and I was very surprised when Epiphany (the house girl) brought out a bottle of milk for Remy. Babies here are pretty much exclusively breast fed- I think this is the first bottle I have seen. Anyways, it worked out great for me because it means I can now feed him, which is great!

After his bottle we did a brief photo shoot although he looks very serious in all the pictures- I think there is maybe one where he is laughing.

He is actually a really happy baby so I think he was just getting sleepy and not really in the right mood for a marathon photo session. We watched TV for a bit and then Louis and I took chairs to sit out on his porch to listen to the radio. His house is at the top of a steep incline so he has an amazing panoramic view of the beautiful rolling hills and you can also see the main road that winds across the foothills. It was a beautiful day but slightly breezy so I wrapped Remy up in a blanket and he sat on my lap, just looking around and never really moving, for almost an hour before he fell asleep. I think that he is so used to being swaddled on his mama’s back that when you swaddle him in a blanket it sends a signal to his mind that it is quiet time- a rather handy trick indeed! Louis had to leave to go sign some papers so I sat with Remy on the porch for almost two hours. It was by far the most peaceful afternoon I have had in Rwanda- a sleeping baby snuggled on my chest and an entire afternoon to just sit and marvel at the beauty of nature.

 

Eventually he woke up and we spent some time playing outside (apparently the clothesline is fascinating) and then headed inside so his Mama could get his diaper changed and pajamas on. It was a truly wonderful day. Next week he is coming to visit me at the convent for an afternoon (I think Louis will drop him off on his way to school) so I am looking forward to that- being an aunt is an amazing honor and I feel blessed to have him in my life!

 

 

 

Louis, Remy, Diane

The Problem with Questions

Josephine and Philimine (Senior 2B)

Like many teachers I know, one of the biggest challenges I face in the classroom is getting the kids to ask questions when they don’t understand the material. This is especially important here since English is their third or fourth language and I have to admit that they probably don’t understand a lot of what I say! I have explained to my students that I am not blessed with the ability to read minds so it is therefore impossible for me to know their questions unless they use their words but they still seem to assume I possess certain magical qualities that enable me to teach them without knowing what they understand about the lessons. It makes my life difficult. I have done my best to encourage the students by creating a “question-friendly” atmosphere but this can be difficult to enforce since the typical classroom culture here involves laughing at others when they make mistakes and sometimes when they ask questions. Along with this critical environment I think there is also some hesitancy to ask questions because of a language barrier between Kinyarwanda and English.

The problem with questions in Kinyarwanda is that to ask a question you must also admit that you have a problem. The phrase “mfite ikibazo” translates to both “I have a question” and “I have a problem.” It is frustrating to me that a language that has words to distinguish between “my paternal aunt” and “your paternal aunt” has only one word for both problem and question!  Despite my best efforts to explain that question and problem are very different words in the English language I think that some of their silence derives from a sense of pride. They don’t want to admit that they have a problem understanding but I need them to tell me what they need clarified to help them learn the material. In moments of desperation I have almost resorted to pleading and begging for them to just open their mouths and start asking questions, but instead I have started researching alternative methods to soliciting/encouraging questions. Here is the list I have compiled so far:

• Instead of asking, “Do you have questions?”  I have started to ask, “What are your questions?”

• I spend a decent amount of time reassuring them that it is a trait of a serious student (a high compliment here) to ask questions

• Sometimes I will randomly give a small reward (usually in the form of candy or maybe a new pen) to a student who asks a good question when the rest of the class is busy acting like they are studying for their final exams to be mimes

• Asking students to write questions on small pieces of paper that I can read after class- the anonymity seems to lend a sense of freedom to some of the quieter students

• Asking students to write questions together in groups in an effort to take the pressure off of one single student

• One of my last options is to congratulate them on having no questions and offer them a quiz since they have clearly mastered all of the material- with this suggestion their once blank faces become animated with looks of utter desperation and they suddenly have questions about everything. I feel bad using this method but sometimes it is the only way to actually have them tell me what parts of the lesson they didn’t understand.

If any teachers reading this entry have suggestions I would welcome them with sincere gratitude. Despite the realization that teaching is not my true passion in life I really do want my students to succeed and it is frustrating to see them fail because they refuse to ask questions and I don’t have enough time to repeat every lesson to enhance clarity.

One of the local teachers recently confided in me that she is very disenchanted with teaching lately because the students just don’t seem to care. It is a complicated situation, especially because I teach at a day school where the students have to go home and work after school so they don’t have a lot of extra time for studying. In some ways I completely understand why they never complete homework and fail all of their subjects (seriously- they are almost all failing at least half of their subjects) but in some ways it seems ridiculous to me that they go to all of the trouble to attend school and then just sit in class and don’t pay attention or do the work. Some of these kids walk an hour (one way) to get to school and I know it is a struggle for many of them to find enough money for school fees and materials so I have to ask myself, “If it is such a burden and financial sacrifice to attend school then why do they even come if they don’t really want to learn?” I know that here is not a single answer to this dilemma. I am sure for some their parents force them to come and for others maybe they really did want to learn but the harsh realities of life and obligations outside of school have started to exist in a way that is not compatible with their responsibilities as a student.

Thanks to discussions with other teachers I am starting to realize that the motivation level of students is a problem for most teachers- not just Peace Corps volunteers in Rwanda. In some ways my kids really do have unique challenges relating to poverty and the changing school system (there was a very abrupt change from using French and Kinyarwanda as the teaching languages to using English) but in some ways I think I need to remember that I am teaching teenagers. It would seem to be that a teenager is a teenager regardless of their circumstances. There are common characteristics that all teenagers share no matter where they live so when my kids act up I do my best to remind myself that I was also once an awkward adolescent overwhelmed with angst and drama. This reminder usually helps me to cope with the bad days and sometimes I just need to spend some time visiting friends, holding babies, and eating chocolate. The best remedy for a bad day involves all three of these activities but chocolate is hard to find and expensive so I usually just rely on babies because they are everywhere and have mamas who are willing to hand them over to strangers- thank goodness for that! 🙂

Well this entry seems to have wandered away from the original topic. If this were a paper for school I would revise and edit to make sure that everything was coherent and related to the same topic but luckily this is just a blog so I can write whatever I want! I hope everyone back home is doing well and please continue to update me with what you are up to so that I don’t feel like I am missing out on too much!

Rachel and Seraphine (Senior 2B)

First Volleyball Matches!

Yesterday we had our first volleyball matches of the term against Saint Jean Bosco, a boarding school a few minutes away from my school. The jerseys that Cornell donated to my school looked sharp but the actually playing was slightly less than stellar. The girls couldn’t quite get it together to win (25-20 and 25-11) but they tried hard and I think that they had fun. One of the girls came up to me after the game to apologize for playing poorly, which was sad but I was glad to see that they really wanted to win! After the girls played the boys begged me for the jerseys even though the headmistresses had decided they were for the girls team only. I eventually gave in because the other team had entire uniforms so we were looking pretty sloppy in comparison! The boys ended up playing a deciding third game and had to play in the rain and partially in the dark since the sun goes down at 6pm and they finished at 6:20pm. It was a really exciting win and it was adorable to see how excited the kids were to finally have jerseys- so thank you Cornell Volleyball- these jerseys will be well loved for many years to come!

Rain and Remy

 

 

Well rainy season is finally upon us again. You don’t realize how nice water is until you don’t have it- especially if you are fond of bathing on a daily basis or having clean clothes. Despite the numerous benefits rain does have a way of complicating things and I seem to have a special talent for choosing to walk home just as a big storm is rolling in. The people love to gather along the road, of course under the safety of some type of shelter, to watch the white girl walking in the rain. I have explained to them, on multiple occasions, that rain is just water and I really will survive a 10-minute walk home but the thought of that concept being acceptable is just too horrifying for them to contemplate so they just shake their heads and pray for me to arrive home safely. It really is a win-win situation because the roads aren’t packed with people, the rain is refreshing (when it is not pouring), and extra prayers are never bad -even if they think I am slightly crazy! 🙂

Teaching this week has been frustrating but I did have a wonderful visit on Tuesday with the other English teacher, Louis. After school I headed down my dirt road for about 10 minutes and then crossed the main road and climbed up a small hill where there is a dirt path that meanders throughout the foothills of the village. I continued down this path for a few minutes and then his house is at the top of a rather steep hill. Thanks to the recent increase in rain, and the wonderful phenomenon of erosion, the path was especially tricky to climb and of course there was a small collection people who gathered to observe my ascent to the house. At one point I managed to step on my skirt and almost pulled it off completely but I was thankfully able to catch the top part with my hand and thus avoided complete humiliation. At the top of the hill I was greeted by two house girls who congratulated me in Kinyarwanda (I am pretty sure they thought I would completely wipe out) and a group of farmers passing on the road above the house who did not offer any congratulatory remarks since they were engrossed in a conversation about the muzungu (white person) who was out climbing hills.

Once at the top, I took a few moments to arrange my skirt and wipe the mud from my legs to look presentable for my visit and also to offer ample time for the house girls to evaluate and judge my clothing and general demeanor- wouldn’t want to deprive them of their favorite hobby! When I arrived Louis was watching a Rwandan soap opera. After multiple attempts to clarify the plot I am still not sure if I knew all the details but a soap opera is a soap opera- there was a chaotic mixture of passionate love, violence, unrequited love, murder, dramatic affairs, more violence, and ridiculous characters dressed up in outrageous outfits. His wife came out with the baby, Remy, who was in desperate need of a nap and spent a few minutes screaming on my lap before his Mama tied him onto her back so he would fall asleep. I was sad to see him go but I was also really invested in the soap opera so it was by no means a total loss. We watched for another hour and once it ended I was disappointed for about 30 seconds before Louis got up to put in the second DVD! We continued watching and eventually Louis had to run an errand so he left me with his wife and baby Remy who was in a much better mood after his nap.

After the end of the soap opera his wife asked me in French if I liked 24 and I was extremely confused- 24 what? She then proceeded to hand me the baby and went to put a different DVD in and it was the American TV show 24! It turns out they have quite a few American TV shows in French like 24 and even Prison Break. After she put on 24 she disappeared and I spent the next few hours cuddling with Remy and watching American television- a pretty spectacular visit by my standards! Once it started to get late I knew I had to begin walking home so I could make it to the convent before it got dark but it was very difficult for me to give up the baby. Finally we headed out (I say we because when you visit someone in Rwanda they accompany you for part or all of your walk home) and I was very grateful that they chose to take the upper road because there was no way I was attempting to go down the incline I came up! They walked me to the main road and we said our goodbyes and I continued home to the convent and arrived just in time since a worker was locking the gate for the night. I don’t have any pictures from this visit because I was busy with Remy but I will be sure to take some next time! He will be seven months old next week which is just crazy to think about since I met him when he was a few days old- time is really going fast!

Speaking of time- as of this weekend I will have been in Rwanda for an entire year! Sometimes the days move slowly but the weeks and months zip along at warp speed! It has been a fantastic year and even with all of the difficulties there is nowhere else I would rather be!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Are You My Mother?

 

The kiddos from my reading group at the orphanage last week.

It seems to be that every week, regardless of the age group I am working with at the orphanage, one of the children will ask me to read them the book entitled: Are You My Mother? For those of you who have never read this book here is the main idea: a baby bird hatches while the mother is out finding food, falls from the nest, and then spends the duration of the book searching for his mother until he is finally returned to his nest so they can be reunited.

 

 

It is a very cute book but there is something truly depressing about reading it to a room full of orphans. Last week a group of boys brought me the book and we all crowded into a little wooden school desk to read together. It started off like any other book, but as the pages went on I had a harder and harder time focusing. I couldn’t help but wonder what the kids think about when they hear the story of this little bird- does it make them sad? Does it make them wish they had a mother? Or maybe it is just another book to them and I should just read it without thinking like this- but that is hard. I am sometimes overwhelmed with sadness when thinking about the fate of these children who I love with all of my heart but cannot take home with me. I wish so badly that they could experience the unconditional love of a family and the warmth of a mother’s arms when she hugs a child goodnight. Unfortunately these are not things I can control so I do my best to keep my composure and read it each time a child asks. This past week I had two boys in my lap and the other two snuggled up next to me when we finished the story. The book was open to a page with an image of the baby bird and his mother cuddling together in the nest and little Gilbert pointed to the picture and proclaimed, “He is now a happy baby bird and she is a happy mother bird.”

 

 

After that I started to think about how his statement presented the perfect opportunity to open a dialogue about family with the kids and perhaps initiate a selfish exploration to see how this book affects them. In the time it took me to gather my thoughts the boys were already up and headed off to the bookshelves to find our next selection. They returned a few minutes later with some obnoxious rhyming book that I don’t really care for and I knew the moment had passed. We all climbed back into the desk and read a book about farm animals rescuing a grumpy truck stuck in mud. My exaggerated animal noises were barely audible over the joyful laughter of the boys doing their best to imitate each animal like me and any lingering sadness I had from the previous book vanished. I am continually humbled and inspired by their ability to always find happiness and with smiles like this surrounding me it impossible to stay sad for long!

 

Back to School

The top three students of Senior 2C and their certificates I made them.

Well vacation is officially over. There were rumors that the holiday would be extended in order to give the census people more time to collect information but they decided to start now since this last term was already the shortest. It has been a pretty fantastic holiday- a trip to Tanzania, almost two weeks with my sister and mom, and a week of GLOW camp with an amazing group of young women.

Today I stayed home in bed since I had a fever and sore throat so my first official week of school is finished because tomorrow is my day off. In some ways it was wonderful. I forgot over holiday just how much I love my students. They are funny and caring and really do try hard to participate in my class. In some ways I also forgot how frustrating it is to teach and how much I hate dealing with groups of kids who refuse to quit talking and a class schedule that never runs on time. There has also been a decent amount of drama at my school considering we are only four days into third term. All workers in Rwanda have been asked to contribute part of their salary to some type of government fund so the teachers are not so pleased about that development and one of the male teachers at my school cut some of the children’s hair, without permission from anyone, in the middle of classes.

I was writing notes on the board and he came in and asked me to stop teaching. I put my chalk down and watched in horror as he stomped angrily through my classroom searching for children who had “long hair.” By long hair I mean that they do not have their heads shaved so they had maybe a couple inches of hair. He did not cut it all off, just a section in the middle that made them look ridiculous enough to ensure that they would have to shave their heads. Some of the kids laughed, some cried, and I stood awkwardly watching from the front of the room. As he walked out he lectured them about not needing “wigs” to study and then stormed out of the room. As it turns out he didn’t have permission from anyone to do this and my headmistress was not very happy with his self-initiated disciplinary actions. Can you imagine if a teacher did this in America? I was blown away by how the kids just let him use an enormous pair of scissors to chop some of their hair off. No questions asked because he was an authority figure. Apparently serious students do not have hair- another teacher told me that the minister of education announced this fact on the radio last week which is interesting. It was also ironic because I was teaching a lesson on emotions during all of this and was then tempted to add a scenario to one of my activities that asked them to describe their emotions when a teacher cuts your hair without asking you. Obviously I couldn’t do this but I can imagine their answers.

Teaching about emotions has been extremely interesting. In Rwanda, whenever you ask someone how they are in English, the response is always, “I am fine.” This response never changes and it drives me crazy so my goal has been to teach them at least a few new ways to respond to me. After we learned the new vocabulary I split each class into six groups and gave each group a piece of paper with five new emotions listed on it and they were responsible for writing three times when you would feel each particular emotion. It was really difficult for some of the kids but the ones who understood the assignment did a really nice job. Here are some examples of what the groups came up with:

Happy

– When you have good marks

– If you have birthday

– When you succeed national exam

Embarrassed

– When you have answer but is not correct and other students laughing you

Disgusted

– When your parents beat you

– The death of a parent

Frightened

– I tell you I am kill you

– Your place in class is last

– Someone in your family is died

Sad

– We have bad marks in school

– Don’t eating food

– We have not parent

Frustrated

– My parents beat me

– When you seek (contract) AIDS

– Don’t eating food

Angry

– Bad marks

– Parents beating me

– Don’t eat food

Overwhelmed

– When there is no food

– When there is no money for school fees

– When there is no clothes

Hopeful

– When you think you can be one day doctor or teacher

-Think of future

Jealous

– He has good car and you haven’t but wish it

– He has good shoes and you haven’t it

I found it interesting (and depressing) that they were able to better articulate situations for the negative emotions as opposed to happier ones. The common theme seemed to be a lack of food and parents beating them when it came to negative emotions. Some of the happier emotions like ecstatic and confident also ended up being assigned to groups who didn’t really understand the assignment and gave really weird and random answers despite my numerous attempts to feed them examples. I guess you win some and you lose some.

Last night the nuns had a party to welcome a new priest that arrived this week. My headmistress informed me at lunch that there would be an extra mass and dinner would be late. I started to feel really tired and achy after lunch and could tell that I was coming down with something so I decided to eat early. I was planning on just eating some bread and fruit but one of the older nuns, sister Claire, was horrified by that idea and immediately went into the kitchen to see if any of the party food was ready. She returned with a plate of rice, peas, and carrots and I was grateful that she made me eat real food. For that 20 minutes I felt like a small child that the parents feed before they have guests over. I sat at the table eating while they prepared for the night, folding napkins and arranging flowers while singing prayers in Kinyarwanda. A new nun would occasionally walk by and ask why I was eating early, making sure to stop and check my forehead for any signs of fever while carefully smoothing my hair back and tucking any stray hairs behind my ears. It felt nice to be taken care of and after dinner I took a quick bucket bath, found some medicine for my fever in my Peace Corps medical box, and was under the covers watching Father of the Bride at 6:30pm. I think they ended up eating around 9pm so I was glad I decided to eat early even if it meant missing a party. Being sick is never fun so I am grateful to have the nuns watching out for me- it is such a blessing to have 10 Mommas to take care of me!

I think that is all of my updates for now! Here are a few cute pictures from the orphanage this week. The kids had a late lunch on Monday so they didn’t go to rest before library time so I had four different kiddos fall asleep reading. I managed to get pictures of Claude and Patrick- such cuties! 🙂

Claude

Patrick

GLOW Camp

I have just returned from an amazing week at GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) camp. We had 29 awesome girls, six Rwandan facilitators, and a group of Peace Corps Volunteers who came together for a week of learning about HIV/AIDS and life skills. Here are the lessons that there girls studied- the ones in bold are the lessons that I taught.

– Goal Setting and Achieving

– Self-Esteem

– Facts and Myths about HIV

– HIV and the Immune System

– HIV Transmission

– Disease Progression

– HIV Prevention

– The Best Response Game

– Gender Roles

– Steps in Making a Good Decision

– Peer Pressure

-What is Love?

– Role Models

– Milk Can “Piggy” Banks

– Goal Setting and Achieving, Revisited

It was an incredible experience and I loved watching the girls come together from different schools to bond throughout the week. I have more to say about the camp experience but for now here are some pictures that give you a glimpse of the week: