It is my last day in Kenya, my last day in Africa, and the last day of my great travel adventure. I took the train back from Mombasa to Nairobi last night, and it was even better the second time around. I woke up in the morning and saw an ostrich grazing on the plains outside my window.
Yesterday I toured Kaya Kinondo, a community-based tourism initiative that I had really been looking forward to. Kaya translates to 'home,' and a Kaya is essentially an ancestral forest village for the Mijikenda people; Kaya Kinondo is one of only a few left in the entirety of Africa, and it belongs to the Digo tribe. It is no longer inhabited, but the forest is preserved and has a number of indigenous and rare species, including a 600 year old cycad! I saw a couple of colubus monkeys and a bushback antelope, but the forest itself was by far the most impressive component of the experience. It is a coastal forest, and very obviously was once ocean bed itself, as evidenced by the mass coral formations all across the forest floor. The only downside to the experience was that I was supposed to have been guided around the forest by a tribal elder; instead, I was guided by a 20-something year old horndog named Gabriel who kept getting a little too close for comfort. I know that East Africans are a touchy-feely people, but when I feel your facial stubble in the nook of my neck, I think you've gone too far.
My train arrived in Nairobi shockingly on time this morning at 10, and I didn't really have enough to do to fill my day. (My flight leaves at 11:45 pm this evening and the Nairobi Airport is close to my idea of hell, so I'm trying to kill as much time as possible in the city...and I don't have a hotel room or anything for today so I needed to stay out.) I took a matatu (crampy bus) to the National Museum, which was a great idea. On the ride, I realized that we were passing the slum-I-mean-neighborhood in which I had stayed my first time in Nairobi last summer. It is just as scary and shitty as I remember, which I suppose is reassuring in that it means I wasn't hallucinating last summer.
Anyway, the National Museum was really quite beautiful and far different from what I had expected. It reminded me a bit of the Teylers Museum in Haarlem in the Netherlands, not in that it is also a century and a half old (because it is not) but because it is sort of a mish-mosh of natural history, archeology, and items of general interest to those who like Kenya. There was a lovely, though out of place (this would count under the 'items of interest' category, I suppose), exhibit of photographs taken by children no older than 9 years old. Most of the photos were taken by children either in Kenya or China (it resulted of a partnership with a school in Beijing) but there were several from other parts of Africa, one from Argentina and one from the US as well. They were really sweet and poignant. Most of the photos depicted "my family" or "my market" and it spoke deeply to the cultural and socioeconomic differences worldwide seeing these responses through their eyes. There were also, inexplicably, four photographs of children at the Grandma Obama orphanage near Kisimu.
After the Museum I walked back to town with a nice muzungu I met who had been born in Zimbabwe (though I suspect he had actually been born in Rhodesia...). I then walked to Uhuru Park, which is just this massive, lush park in the middle of the city, and sat there for about an hour. There is a massive tribute to Daniel Arap-Moi in the park...a huge statue that looks sort of like a fist holding a walking stick bursting out of a volcano. I think that's what they were going for, though. I noticed that the Serena Hotel-Nairobi was just behind the park and I still had a lot of time to kill so I thought, let's see what it's like!
The Serena, for those of you who don't know, is a collection of massive and fancy hotels that pop up all throughout East Africa, and I suspect the rest of the world as well, and rooms there start at about $425 a night, which is my month's rent before utilities. I took a seat by the poolside an ordered a gin & tonic, which surprisingly cost less than a week worth of groceries. I spent an hour or so by the pool, and they even treated me to complimentary bar snacks. Then they brought the bill. They had charged me for a double, which I did not order, and somehow an additional shot of gin costs more than the first. I complained, as I am wont to do, and they settled everything for me and I paid only for the shot I ordered. However, during that debate I noticed a shower in the bathroom by the pool. Now, I am not a hobo. But I had not showered since before the Kaya Kinondo excursion, seeing as I had had to check out of my hotel that morning and there are no showers on an overnight train with a squat toilet that opens to the tracks. So I decided to take my revenge on the Serena for their $6 gin and tonic (which is really quite reasonable...I'm just cheap) by using their shower facilities. I thought it quite acceptable; they assumed I was a guest at the hotel because I am white, and I didn't let on to the contrary. So I snagged a bathrobe hanging conveniently on the wall and took a shower for the first time in a day and a half. Boy, the Serena treats their guests right.
I'll be back in New York tomorrow afternoon around 1 local time. Jeez.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Kenyan Adventures
Hello!
I am currently sweating my skin off on Mombasa, the second largest city in Kenya and an island on the Indian Ocean.
Kenya has been lovely so far. I spent two days in Nairobi, took the overnight train to Mombasa Wednesday evening, and I will be here until tomorrow, when I will take the overnight train back to Nairobi.
Firstly, Nairobi has really grown on me. They sell fresh popcorn on the street for 10 ksh a bag (about 12 cents), and that alone is enough to win me over. They also spice their food in Kenya, which is a nice pick-me-up from the terribly bland Rwandan cuisine. Wednesday I had the most lovely and touristy day. I hired a driver for the day and went first to the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust, which is an elephant and rhinoceros orphanage. Yes, I said orphanage. From 11-noon every day, visitors are invited to watch them feed the baby elephants (yes, I said baby elephants) and pet them and watch them play with each other. The youngest were three months old; the oldest less than two years. I died. They are just big fat dusty lumps of adorable. They take to the orphanage caretakers as surrogate mothers and follow them around, play with them, even try to wrestle with them. It is just heart-squashingly adorable. After the elephant orphanage, my driver wanted to take me to a Masaai marketplace. I have never seen so many masks in my life. The market collects African masks from all over the continent, including many antiques and old bronze pieces. They were breathtaking. Outside the shop I met a Maasai warrior named Julius who is 23. The shopkeep said, "you're a single girl, he's a single boy, and you are both tall--you make a great match!" and urged me to marry him. I gracefully declined, and continued on to Giraffe Manor, a Rothschild giraffe preservation and education center that allows visitors to feed the giraffes by hand! I did, and was french-kissed by a lady giraffe as thanks for lunch.
The overnight train from Nairobi to Mombasa was awesome, by the way. You do travel through Tsavo National Park, but at about 2am, so it is impossible to try to spot animals unless the train breaks down (which it apparently often does). I managed to score my own room, which was nice because I would not want to have shared that closet-sized compartment with a stranger. The views are absolutely beautiful. You leave Nairobi just at sundown, and as the train winds out of the city, the bright lights of the Central Business District trick you into thinking you're in New York. There are a lot of shantytowns and slum shacks along the train tracks, though I suppose that is standard in developing countries. When you wake up in the morning, there are hundreds of children lining the fields along the tracks waving at the muzungus. All in all, it is a hell of a colonial throwback. At dinner on the train I sat with three railroad employees--one was the conductor, one his assistant, and one a guard. The guard, Francis, engaged me in a two hour discussion about the duties of a father and raising daughters and why it was good that I did not accept the Maasai warrior's marriage proposal.
The train arrived in Mombasa just before 10 am (practically on time!) and I checked into my hotel, which is in the heart of town and acts like a four-star hotel despite costing $50 a night. I'm talking glasses of juice and cold towels at check-in. My hotel also has this hilarious calypso cover-band that plays on the hotel patio every night and is loud as hell. I can hear them from my balcony overlooking the city. Oh, did I mention my room has a balcony overlooking the city? I must have forgotten that part. My first day in Mombasa, naturally, I walked down the road to Fort Jesus and to see the Old Town.
Fort Jesus was built by the Portuguese in 1593 after Vasco de Gama "discovered" Mombasa. It has, throughout history, alternatively been occupied by both the Portuguese and Arabs. It is now mostly in ruins, but totally cool. It overlooks the Indian Ocean (as any good island fort should) and gets great breezes, an important consideration in Mombasa life, since this is the most oppressively hot place I have ever been. Yes, it's worse than New Orleans in July. Old Town is pretty slummy, to be honest. It's not like what I imagined it to be, which I suppose falls more in line with my expectations of Zanzibar's Stone Town. Old Town is definitely interesting though, and has some incredibly intricate wooden doors. I also found this quaint little Indian tea shop with the best Indian sweets I've ever had! While wandering Old Town, I ran into the two American students that I met in Gisenyi in November! It really is a small world.
Yesterday I went on a day excursion to Wasini Island to go snorkeling on the coral reefs. It was incredible. We took a very long drive to a pier, then a motorized dhow around the Indian Ocean chasing bottlenose dolphins for a while. Eventually we anchored off the coast of a beach island and snorkeled for about an hour and a half. I saw rainbow fish that literally looked like the ones in that children's book (mom, you know what I'm talking about). And angel fish! And weird massive white fish that looked kind of like fat baby crocodiles bred with catfish. And clowfish! (One of the tour operators made me promise to try to catch him a "Nemo" when I snorkeled.) It was just lovely. What impressed me most was the massive variety of types of coral that existed on this reef. It was just breathtaking.
After snorkeling we had lunch on Wasini Island, and took a tour of the (very poor) town there. I wanted to visit these Slave Caves that were used during Portuguese and Arab times to hold slaves before shipping them to Zanzibar, but everyone else on my tour was tired so I missed out. But it was just a beautiful day.
One more thing about Kenya before I sign off for the post: they LOVE Dolly Parton. Now, I know that country music is popular in East Africa. I've heard Jimmy Buffet and indistinguishably country music playing in markets in Uganda and Rwanda. But Kenya takes it to a whole other level. My hotel has been playing non-stop Christmas music since my arrival, which makes sense. What does not make sense is that every morning during breakfast hours, they play the same five Dolly Parton Christmas songs on repeat. I now know all of the worlds to "Christmas to Remember" (I do quite like the "we'll make this"/"springtime bliss" and "Christmas to remember"/"in the middle of December" double-rhyme, though) and "Hardy Candy Christmas" (excuse me if these aren't the accurate titles--they are merely educated guesses based on learning all of the lyrics) which I'm pretty sure is just a breakup song and not actually about Christmas.
I am currently sweating my skin off on Mombasa, the second largest city in Kenya and an island on the Indian Ocean.
Kenya has been lovely so far. I spent two days in Nairobi, took the overnight train to Mombasa Wednesday evening, and I will be here until tomorrow, when I will take the overnight train back to Nairobi.
Firstly, Nairobi has really grown on me. They sell fresh popcorn on the street for 10 ksh a bag (about 12 cents), and that alone is enough to win me over. They also spice their food in Kenya, which is a nice pick-me-up from the terribly bland Rwandan cuisine. Wednesday I had the most lovely and touristy day. I hired a driver for the day and went first to the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust, which is an elephant and rhinoceros orphanage. Yes, I said orphanage. From 11-noon every day, visitors are invited to watch them feed the baby elephants (yes, I said baby elephants) and pet them and watch them play with each other. The youngest were three months old; the oldest less than two years. I died. They are just big fat dusty lumps of adorable. They take to the orphanage caretakers as surrogate mothers and follow them around, play with them, even try to wrestle with them. It is just heart-squashingly adorable. After the elephant orphanage, my driver wanted to take me to a Masaai marketplace. I have never seen so many masks in my life. The market collects African masks from all over the continent, including many antiques and old bronze pieces. They were breathtaking. Outside the shop I met a Maasai warrior named Julius who is 23. The shopkeep said, "you're a single girl, he's a single boy, and you are both tall--you make a great match!" and urged me to marry him. I gracefully declined, and continued on to Giraffe Manor, a Rothschild giraffe preservation and education center that allows visitors to feed the giraffes by hand! I did, and was french-kissed by a lady giraffe as thanks for lunch.
The overnight train from Nairobi to Mombasa was awesome, by the way. You do travel through Tsavo National Park, but at about 2am, so it is impossible to try to spot animals unless the train breaks down (which it apparently often does). I managed to score my own room, which was nice because I would not want to have shared that closet-sized compartment with a stranger. The views are absolutely beautiful. You leave Nairobi just at sundown, and as the train winds out of the city, the bright lights of the Central Business District trick you into thinking you're in New York. There are a lot of shantytowns and slum shacks along the train tracks, though I suppose that is standard in developing countries. When you wake up in the morning, there are hundreds of children lining the fields along the tracks waving at the muzungus. All in all, it is a hell of a colonial throwback. At dinner on the train I sat with three railroad employees--one was the conductor, one his assistant, and one a guard. The guard, Francis, engaged me in a two hour discussion about the duties of a father and raising daughters and why it was good that I did not accept the Maasai warrior's marriage proposal.
The train arrived in Mombasa just before 10 am (practically on time!) and I checked into my hotel, which is in the heart of town and acts like a four-star hotel despite costing $50 a night. I'm talking glasses of juice and cold towels at check-in. My hotel also has this hilarious calypso cover-band that plays on the hotel patio every night and is loud as hell. I can hear them from my balcony overlooking the city. Oh, did I mention my room has a balcony overlooking the city? I must have forgotten that part. My first day in Mombasa, naturally, I walked down the road to Fort Jesus and to see the Old Town.
Fort Jesus was built by the Portuguese in 1593 after Vasco de Gama "discovered" Mombasa. It has, throughout history, alternatively been occupied by both the Portuguese and Arabs. It is now mostly in ruins, but totally cool. It overlooks the Indian Ocean (as any good island fort should) and gets great breezes, an important consideration in Mombasa life, since this is the most oppressively hot place I have ever been. Yes, it's worse than New Orleans in July. Old Town is pretty slummy, to be honest. It's not like what I imagined it to be, which I suppose falls more in line with my expectations of Zanzibar's Stone Town. Old Town is definitely interesting though, and has some incredibly intricate wooden doors. I also found this quaint little Indian tea shop with the best Indian sweets I've ever had! While wandering Old Town, I ran into the two American students that I met in Gisenyi in November! It really is a small world.
Yesterday I went on a day excursion to Wasini Island to go snorkeling on the coral reefs. It was incredible. We took a very long drive to a pier, then a motorized dhow around the Indian Ocean chasing bottlenose dolphins for a while. Eventually we anchored off the coast of a beach island and snorkeled for about an hour and a half. I saw rainbow fish that literally looked like the ones in that children's book (mom, you know what I'm talking about). And angel fish! And weird massive white fish that looked kind of like fat baby crocodiles bred with catfish. And clowfish! (One of the tour operators made me promise to try to catch him a "Nemo" when I snorkeled.) It was just lovely. What impressed me most was the massive variety of types of coral that existed on this reef. It was just breathtaking.
After snorkeling we had lunch on Wasini Island, and took a tour of the (very poor) town there. I wanted to visit these Slave Caves that were used during Portuguese and Arab times to hold slaves before shipping them to Zanzibar, but everyone else on my tour was tired so I missed out. But it was just a beautiful day.
One more thing about Kenya before I sign off for the post: they LOVE Dolly Parton. Now, I know that country music is popular in East Africa. I've heard Jimmy Buffet and indistinguishably country music playing in markets in Uganda and Rwanda. But Kenya takes it to a whole other level. My hotel has been playing non-stop Christmas music since my arrival, which makes sense. What does not make sense is that every morning during breakfast hours, they play the same five Dolly Parton Christmas songs on repeat. I now know all of the worlds to "Christmas to Remember" (I do quite like the "we'll make this"/"springtime bliss" and "Christmas to remember"/"in the middle of December" double-rhyme, though) and "Hardy Candy Christmas" (excuse me if these aren't the accurate titles--they are merely educated guesses based on learning all of the lyrics) which I'm pretty sure is just a breakup song and not actually about Christmas.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Ghetto Safari and Other Adventures
Hello from Nairobi, Kenya.
I like it a lot more than I did when I visited for a day last year.
It really is spectacular that as I drove away from the airport I could see giraffes grazing just off the highway in Nairobi National Park.
My last few days in Rwanda were just gorgeous. Friday I recorded the rap as planned, and played a jeopardy-style game with the students to assess what they had learned. After the class, I gave them all little gifts (mostly bubbles and hairclips) and a few of the girls (my favorites--i'll admit it) gave me a present! I almost cried! They gave me a little plastic ring with a red stone. It was the sweetest thing in the world! As we left the "classroom" behind the FVA office, the girls invited me to go back to their school (Remera Catholique) with them for dance practice. Obviously I went. I don't think I've ever enjoyed walking to Kimironko so much in my life. I walked with a group of 15 teenage girls who swarmed around me and urged me to speak Kinyarwanda and dance with them. Other pedestrians just watched us and laughed. I couldn't have had more fun if I had tried. Dance practice was lovely. They rehearsed the traditional welcome dance for me, and integrated me into the song. After, the did "plays," which is basically an improv exercise that they perform for each other. Most of the plays had to do with a cute girl and a boy checking out her butt. Then they got together and collected pocket change for association, just as the PLWHA Association I worked with in Kanombe does. It was so sweet. They played association! It's like if we played labor union in high school.
So, I promised tale of a ghetto safari, and here it is: Rwanda has one real safari park, though it's nothing to speak of in terms of the rest of the continent. Akagera National Park is only about two hours outside of Kigali though, and relatively cheap, so it sounded like a great deal! All of the volunteers who were around this weekend (me, Rachel, Jamie and Thanh) decided to wake up at 3:30 am and go on safari. Hijink number one: the drawstring of my sweatpants broke and instead I wore flowery leggings on safari. (I thought it looked quite "smart," as they say in Rwanda.) Hijink number two (the most major of all the hijinks): we decided to rent a taxi to take us on safari, and Rachel was charged with finding a taxi driver outside of Ndoli's, a local shop. We managed to snag the worst taxi in Rwanda. The driver, Alphonse, was a sweet guy, but he was a very bad negotiator; Rachel brought him down from 60,000 rwf for the day to 37,000 with very little effort. He also forgot to pick us up, and Rachel called him and wound up speaking to his girlfriend to remind him to come get us at 4:30 in the morning. The taxi's windshield had two large webbed cracks, the left mirror had fallen off--not the whole mirror apparatus, mind you, but just the mirror itself. The mechanics beneath the mirror were still in place. Rachel later discovered a hole covered by a pillow behind the backseat. The trunk had a hole in it somewhere, and everything we brought was therefore covered in red dust. The car was half-gone before we got to the park, and we quickly realized that our safari would probably be its death knell. We did manage to see a number of giraffes, zebras, impalas, other antelopes whose name I don't recall, vervet monkeys, olive baboons, buffalo and hippos, incredibly, without trekking very deep into the park. The poor, decrepit taxi was a trooper on the off-roading, though, and managed to survive at least the drive home. Every other group on safari was, of course, in a massive 4X4. When we stopped for our picnic lunch (peanut butter sandwiches, peanuts, a few cheddar pringles and some rank cookies) we attempted to befriend some of the other safari-ists in the hopes that they would take pity and invite us into their massive cars. It didn't work.
My last day in Kigali was immense. I visited the Centre Sante for lunch with Zena and the other nurses, then bought a mattress for one of the Association women, strapped it onto my back with twine, and hopped on a moto to Kanombe. I really thought that I would fall off, but hoped that the mattress would at least catch my fall. I survived, incredibly. My favorite Association member, Paul, met me and we walked to the woman's house to bring her the mattress. After I gave it to her, I gave her son my kazoo. They were really excited by the kazoo, and fairly complacent about the mattress. I wound up staying there for about an hour and helping her shell beans. Then I met Zena at the Centre Sante again, because she told me she wanted to take me out on the town. We had dinner in Union Trade Center and then I met her younger brother, who lives with her and kind of takes care of her. She has had a couple of operations, and is due for another in January, and he looks after her. He is a wonderful man. We had a long talk after Zena went home, and he even invited me to go with the whole family to Gisenyi the next time I go to Rwanda.
I have been so lucky to meet such incredible people on this trip. Rwanda is the most beautiful place I have ever been in terms of landscape and physical beauty, but it also contains some of the most warm and wonderful people I have ever had the pleasure to meet. I can't wait to go back to Rwanda!
But in the mean time, I will make the most of this week in Kenya. I have the whole day in Nairobi tomorrow, then at 6 I take the overnight train to Mombasa! I can't wait. I don't know if I mentioned this before, but the train passes through Tsavo National Park (where the infamous man-eating lions once lived) and I think another game park as well!
I like it a lot more than I did when I visited for a day last year.
It really is spectacular that as I drove away from the airport I could see giraffes grazing just off the highway in Nairobi National Park.
My last few days in Rwanda were just gorgeous. Friday I recorded the rap as planned, and played a jeopardy-style game with the students to assess what they had learned. After the class, I gave them all little gifts (mostly bubbles and hairclips) and a few of the girls (my favorites--i'll admit it) gave me a present! I almost cried! They gave me a little plastic ring with a red stone. It was the sweetest thing in the world! As we left the "classroom" behind the FVA office, the girls invited me to go back to their school (Remera Catholique) with them for dance practice. Obviously I went. I don't think I've ever enjoyed walking to Kimironko so much in my life. I walked with a group of 15 teenage girls who swarmed around me and urged me to speak Kinyarwanda and dance with them. Other pedestrians just watched us and laughed. I couldn't have had more fun if I had tried. Dance practice was lovely. They rehearsed the traditional welcome dance for me, and integrated me into the song. After, the did "plays," which is basically an improv exercise that they perform for each other. Most of the plays had to do with a cute girl and a boy checking out her butt. Then they got together and collected pocket change for association, just as the PLWHA Association I worked with in Kanombe does. It was so sweet. They played association! It's like if we played labor union in high school.
So, I promised tale of a ghetto safari, and here it is: Rwanda has one real safari park, though it's nothing to speak of in terms of the rest of the continent. Akagera National Park is only about two hours outside of Kigali though, and relatively cheap, so it sounded like a great deal! All of the volunteers who were around this weekend (me, Rachel, Jamie and Thanh) decided to wake up at 3:30 am and go on safari. Hijink number one: the drawstring of my sweatpants broke and instead I wore flowery leggings on safari. (I thought it looked quite "smart," as they say in Rwanda.) Hijink number two (the most major of all the hijinks): we decided to rent a taxi to take us on safari, and Rachel was charged with finding a taxi driver outside of Ndoli's, a local shop. We managed to snag the worst taxi in Rwanda. The driver, Alphonse, was a sweet guy, but he was a very bad negotiator; Rachel brought him down from 60,000 rwf for the day to 37,000 with very little effort. He also forgot to pick us up, and Rachel called him and wound up speaking to his girlfriend to remind him to come get us at 4:30 in the morning. The taxi's windshield had two large webbed cracks, the left mirror had fallen off--not the whole mirror apparatus, mind you, but just the mirror itself. The mechanics beneath the mirror were still in place. Rachel later discovered a hole covered by a pillow behind the backseat. The trunk had a hole in it somewhere, and everything we brought was therefore covered in red dust. The car was half-gone before we got to the park, and we quickly realized that our safari would probably be its death knell. We did manage to see a number of giraffes, zebras, impalas, other antelopes whose name I don't recall, vervet monkeys, olive baboons, buffalo and hippos, incredibly, without trekking very deep into the park. The poor, decrepit taxi was a trooper on the off-roading, though, and managed to survive at least the drive home. Every other group on safari was, of course, in a massive 4X4. When we stopped for our picnic lunch (peanut butter sandwiches, peanuts, a few cheddar pringles and some rank cookies) we attempted to befriend some of the other safari-ists in the hopes that they would take pity and invite us into their massive cars. It didn't work.
My last day in Kigali was immense. I visited the Centre Sante for lunch with Zena and the other nurses, then bought a mattress for one of the Association women, strapped it onto my back with twine, and hopped on a moto to Kanombe. I really thought that I would fall off, but hoped that the mattress would at least catch my fall. I survived, incredibly. My favorite Association member, Paul, met me and we walked to the woman's house to bring her the mattress. After I gave it to her, I gave her son my kazoo. They were really excited by the kazoo, and fairly complacent about the mattress. I wound up staying there for about an hour and helping her shell beans. Then I met Zena at the Centre Sante again, because she told me she wanted to take me out on the town. We had dinner in Union Trade Center and then I met her younger brother, who lives with her and kind of takes care of her. She has had a couple of operations, and is due for another in January, and he looks after her. He is a wonderful man. We had a long talk after Zena went home, and he even invited me to go with the whole family to Gisenyi the next time I go to Rwanda.
I have been so lucky to meet such incredible people on this trip. Rwanda is the most beautiful place I have ever been in terms of landscape and physical beauty, but it also contains some of the most warm and wonderful people I have ever had the pleasure to meet. I can't wait to go back to Rwanda!
But in the mean time, I will make the most of this week in Kenya. I have the whole day in Nairobi tomorrow, then at 6 I take the overnight train to Mombasa! I can't wait. I don't know if I mentioned this before, but the train passes through Tsavo National Park (where the infamous man-eating lions once lived) and I think another game park as well!
Thursday, December 10, 2009
the almost-end
I hated writing that as the title. But it's true. Tomorrow is my last day of work here, and I leave Kigali Tuesday morning.
I finally (as of literally this afternoon) have a plan for the week between Kigali and going home though! I am flying to Nairobi early Tuesday, spending two days there and taking the overnight train to Mombasa on Wednesday evening! I'll spend the extended weekend (until Sunday night) in Mombasa, then take the train back to Nairobi and leave Monday just before midnight. I'm pretty excited for the train. It's supposed to take absolutely forever, but it goes through the Serengeti and is an old English colonial mainstay. I can't wait! And Mombasa will be a good substitute for my failed Zanzibar plans, as it is also a Swahili coastal town along the Indian Ocean. I plan to do some day excursions out to Diani Beach and hopefully a Kaya as well (sacred forest).
This week has been absolutely gorgeous. This weekend I went back to Gisenyi and was supposed to cross the border to Goma with Rachel, but she forgot her yellow fever vaccination card and we weren't sure if it was the best idea to potentially bribe our way into the Congo and maybe get stuck there. (Good logic, I think.) I saw the most intense and incredible lightning storm over Lake Kivu, and found the hot springs in the town just beyond the Bralirwa plant.
This week has managed to sum up my experiences here in the most poetic ways. Tuesday, the Centre Sante had a big party for the ARV patients and their children. It was really awesome to see so many people I knew and had worked with all gathered together for a party, and it was obvious that the children really appreciated the experience. Kevine was there and I gave her a Christmas present: a sparkly jump rope, a large bouncy ball and a ton of bubbles and bubble-blowing devices, all in my NY Strand bag that she always stole when she visited me at the clinic. Her mother was really sweet, and Best helped me talk with her a little bit. I want to stay in touch with them once I leave and help them out any way I can if they need it. They are just a beautiful family and deserve way more than I can give them. Later in the day, Mama Kevine tried to send Kevine home with me to America, which broke my heart. She tried again today, too. Oh yea, today was my last day at the Centre and Kevine just happened to be there again! We played for about two hours and she cried when I told her I was leaving for good. I got tears in my eyes as well. She is a really special (if somewhat selfish--she kept yelling "muzungu wangu!" at the other kids who tried to play with me...if you can't figure it out that means "my muzungu!") child.
Anyway, at the Tuesday party at the Centre, a lot of women from the Association I work with in Kanombe also showed up! It was really awesome seeing my two worlds combine. I mean, I've seen a couple of the Kanombe women at the Centre from time to time picking up their ARVs, but there were a great number of them at this party and it was really wonderful. I sat with one Association woman during the ceremony preceding the party.
Wednesday was my last meeting with the Association as a whole, and as I left, about twenty-five women looked up from their crafts and waved at me. It was so beautiful that I asked them if I could take a photo.
Today, also, I taught my HIV Edu course again. Today we discussed human sexual physiology and reproduction. It turns out that in P5 (around 11 or 12 years old) they learn about reproduction, and even filled in the vocabulary for me, like "embryo." However, in learning about embryos and the life cycle, they do not receive any official instruction on how an embryo gets there or how a woman may become pregnant. So they learn about the trimesters and how a baby develops, but nothing about how this phenomenon occurs.
We also worked on a song in my class today. Last week, I told the group that I wanted to do a cumulative project to show what we learned, and we decided on a song. One of the older girls wrote a really great verse and chorus for a rap over the weekend, and we built off of that. Tomorrow I will record it, and you will all definitely get to see the final results!
I finally (as of literally this afternoon) have a plan for the week between Kigali and going home though! I am flying to Nairobi early Tuesday, spending two days there and taking the overnight train to Mombasa on Wednesday evening! I'll spend the extended weekend (until Sunday night) in Mombasa, then take the train back to Nairobi and leave Monday just before midnight. I'm pretty excited for the train. It's supposed to take absolutely forever, but it goes through the Serengeti and is an old English colonial mainstay. I can't wait! And Mombasa will be a good substitute for my failed Zanzibar plans, as it is also a Swahili coastal town along the Indian Ocean. I plan to do some day excursions out to Diani Beach and hopefully a Kaya as well (sacred forest).
This week has been absolutely gorgeous. This weekend I went back to Gisenyi and was supposed to cross the border to Goma with Rachel, but she forgot her yellow fever vaccination card and we weren't sure if it was the best idea to potentially bribe our way into the Congo and maybe get stuck there. (Good logic, I think.) I saw the most intense and incredible lightning storm over Lake Kivu, and found the hot springs in the town just beyond the Bralirwa plant.
This week has managed to sum up my experiences here in the most poetic ways. Tuesday, the Centre Sante had a big party for the ARV patients and their children. It was really awesome to see so many people I knew and had worked with all gathered together for a party, and it was obvious that the children really appreciated the experience. Kevine was there and I gave her a Christmas present: a sparkly jump rope, a large bouncy ball and a ton of bubbles and bubble-blowing devices, all in my NY Strand bag that she always stole when she visited me at the clinic. Her mother was really sweet, and Best helped me talk with her a little bit. I want to stay in touch with them once I leave and help them out any way I can if they need it. They are just a beautiful family and deserve way more than I can give them. Later in the day, Mama Kevine tried to send Kevine home with me to America, which broke my heart. She tried again today, too. Oh yea, today was my last day at the Centre and Kevine just happened to be there again! We played for about two hours and she cried when I told her I was leaving for good. I got tears in my eyes as well. She is a really special (if somewhat selfish--she kept yelling "muzungu wangu!" at the other kids who tried to play with me...if you can't figure it out that means "my muzungu!") child.
Anyway, at the Tuesday party at the Centre, a lot of women from the Association I work with in Kanombe also showed up! It was really awesome seeing my two worlds combine. I mean, I've seen a couple of the Kanombe women at the Centre from time to time picking up their ARVs, but there were a great number of them at this party and it was really wonderful. I sat with one Association woman during the ceremony preceding the party.
Wednesday was my last meeting with the Association as a whole, and as I left, about twenty-five women looked up from their crafts and waved at me. It was so beautiful that I asked them if I could take a photo.
Today, also, I taught my HIV Edu course again. Today we discussed human sexual physiology and reproduction. It turns out that in P5 (around 11 or 12 years old) they learn about reproduction, and even filled in the vocabulary for me, like "embryo." However, in learning about embryos and the life cycle, they do not receive any official instruction on how an embryo gets there or how a woman may become pregnant. So they learn about the trimesters and how a baby develops, but nothing about how this phenomenon occurs.
We also worked on a song in my class today. Last week, I told the group that I wanted to do a cumulative project to show what we learned, and we decided on a song. One of the older girls wrote a really great verse and chorus for a rap over the weekend, and we built off of that. Tomorrow I will record it, and you will all definitely get to see the final results!
Saturday, November 28, 2009
There is no Thanksgiving in Rwanda
So instead, my Thursday night dinner consisted of rice, a vegetable medley and some roasted potatoes. They don't really do stuffing here.
Thursday I had a long talk with the volunteer coordinator--and by long talk I mean cry--and all of a sudden she heard for the first time (though I have mentioned this a number of times) that I am a trained HIV Educator. So that afternoon I wrote an overview lesson, and taught it on Friday to 22 kids ranging in age from 9 to 16.
It actually went really well! I started with an icebreaker activity to address stigmas, myths and misinformation that they might have...a shocking response was that about 75% of the group responded "yego" or yes to the staetment "People with HIV/AIDS are dirty and/or sinful. So...that's a hurdle to overcome.
We discussed the basics--transmission, the ABCs of prevention, the general anatomy of condom use (without getting too explicit for cultural reasons)--and began to discuss stereotypes and myths. Some of the students had incredibly compelling questions.
Claire, the volunteer coordinator, decided it would be most effective to teach only those students 14 years and older (NOT my decision). So next week and the following week (I only have two weeks left!!!!) I will teach two lessons a week for about 1 1/2 hours each on HIV to Rwandan teenagers. I'm thinking that for Thursday I will prepare a stigma discussion, and then maybe an anatomy and sex-negotiating lesson for Friday.
SO EXCITED!
Today, Rachel (one of the other volunteers) and I went to Butare, a University town about two hours south of Kigali. It is apparently the most "US-like" town in Rwanda...I tend to disagree. It looked like a very large African town. On the bus ride there, the man sitting next to me quoted scripture at me in a discussion of why Jesus is clearly the Messiah, but was quite nice otherwise. The little girl sitting on his lap threw up on my pants, though. She coughed on my arms and then puked on my leg, and immediately thereafter I saw a skinned goat carcass out the window. Not quite as nice.
I will leave you with the DUH sentence of a lifetime, from the Thursday edition of the New Vision English-language newspaper here in Rwanda: "The 1994 genocide against the Tutsis really messed up the education sector of this country." Yes...thanks.
Thursday I had a long talk with the volunteer coordinator--and by long talk I mean cry--and all of a sudden she heard for the first time (though I have mentioned this a number of times) that I am a trained HIV Educator. So that afternoon I wrote an overview lesson, and taught it on Friday to 22 kids ranging in age from 9 to 16.
It actually went really well! I started with an icebreaker activity to address stigmas, myths and misinformation that they might have...a shocking response was that about 75% of the group responded "yego" or yes to the staetment "People with HIV/AIDS are dirty and/or sinful. So...that's a hurdle to overcome.
We discussed the basics--transmission, the ABCs of prevention, the general anatomy of condom use (without getting too explicit for cultural reasons)--and began to discuss stereotypes and myths. Some of the students had incredibly compelling questions.
Claire, the volunteer coordinator, decided it would be most effective to teach only those students 14 years and older (NOT my decision). So next week and the following week (I only have two weeks left!!!!) I will teach two lessons a week for about 1 1/2 hours each on HIV to Rwandan teenagers. I'm thinking that for Thursday I will prepare a stigma discussion, and then maybe an anatomy and sex-negotiating lesson for Friday.
SO EXCITED!
Today, Rachel (one of the other volunteers) and I went to Butare, a University town about two hours south of Kigali. It is apparently the most "US-like" town in Rwanda...I tend to disagree. It looked like a very large African town. On the bus ride there, the man sitting next to me quoted scripture at me in a discussion of why Jesus is clearly the Messiah, but was quite nice otherwise. The little girl sitting on his lap threw up on my pants, though. She coughed on my arms and then puked on my leg, and immediately thereafter I saw a skinned goat carcass out the window. Not quite as nice.
I will leave you with the DUH sentence of a lifetime, from the Thursday edition of the New Vision English-language newspaper here in Rwanda: "The 1994 genocide against the Tutsis really messed up the education sector of this country." Yes...thanks.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Kevine came to visit!
For those of you who don't remember, Kevine is the little girl I met at the Center Sante who called me Mamazungu and made me fall in love. She came to visit at the Centre Sante yesterday!!
I was in the backroom of the ARV filing office and she stormed into the main office and demanded, in Kinyarwanda, "where is my muzungu?!" That, alone, made me die. She found me and hopped into my lap and gave me a bunch of hugs and offered me her cookie. Once I got over my minor cute-overload-heart-attack, we went outside and played for a bit until her mom said it was time to leave.
About thirty minutes later, she came bounding back into the office! I was worried that she ran away from her family, so I stuck her on my back like a good African mama and wandered around the clinic looking for her mother. All of the mamas waiting for ARV consultations really enjoyed the visual of a muzungu with a baby on her back. Eventually I found her mother, which is good, because as much as I've fallen in love with this little girl, I'm not sure I'm ready to be a full-time mama.
The whole time Kevine and I played together, one of the nurses, Zena, whom I adore, kept asking Kevine how she felt about me and whether she loved me; Kevine continually replied, in Kinyarwanda of course, that she loved me and I was her muzungu. I died again.
I want to maintain some sort of contact with Kevine after I leave. Obviously there is a language barrier, but I would like to be able to mail her Christmas gifts and goodies from time to time, and maybe keep in touch once she gets a bit older and heads to school, where they are now required to learn English anyway. Did I mention that she's only three years old?! I thought she was just a small five or six year old--she is so lingual and sassy and bright!
Enough gushing.
Monday night, I went to see a German hip hop group, Massive Tone. It was awesome. They were great, though they barely used any of their own beats--almost everything was sampled, and after the show a bunch of local rappers (everyone here is either a small-time rapper or a small-time gospel singer, I swear) hopped up onstage and began a freestyling competition!
And last night, the woman who drove me home from Gisenyi had me over for dinner with one of her colleagues and his wife! It was very ex-pat-in-Africa. Her driver picked me up and her cook made special vegetarian dishes just for me. But it was awesome and I absolutely loved it!
Today I had Association visits in the morning, and visited for the second time the HIV+ woman whose husband likes to come home drunk and declare that the house smells like AIDS. I found out today that not only is he verbally abusive and a shmuck who refuses to get tested because he 'knows he's negative' despite fathering four children with an HIV+ woman, but he is also abusive on many other levels. Before she joined the Association, he used to beat her. Thankfully, though, now he does not do so for fear of retaliation from the strength of the Association. So instead, he locks his wife and four children in the house from the outside every night while he works a graveyard shift. This is especially fucked up because the bathroom is an outhouse. Visiting with this woman and her beautiful, sweet children (one of whom has a positive HIV diagnosis--they suspect two others are also positive but do not have definitive results yet) makes me so frustrated and furious. I just want to slap her husband across the face a thousand times. It makes me wish that the Rwandan culture wasn't quite so family-oriented, because the idea of leaving him and protecting herself and her children is not an option that would even cross this woman's mind. Aside from the fact that she is HIV+ and unemployed with four children at the age of 27, she would never betray the binds of family that are so intrinsic to Rwandan village culture.
I was in the backroom of the ARV filing office and she stormed into the main office and demanded, in Kinyarwanda, "where is my muzungu?!" That, alone, made me die. She found me and hopped into my lap and gave me a bunch of hugs and offered me her cookie. Once I got over my minor cute-overload-heart-attack, we went outside and played for a bit until her mom said it was time to leave.
About thirty minutes later, she came bounding back into the office! I was worried that she ran away from her family, so I stuck her on my back like a good African mama and wandered around the clinic looking for her mother. All of the mamas waiting for ARV consultations really enjoyed the visual of a muzungu with a baby on her back. Eventually I found her mother, which is good, because as much as I've fallen in love with this little girl, I'm not sure I'm ready to be a full-time mama.
The whole time Kevine and I played together, one of the nurses, Zena, whom I adore, kept asking Kevine how she felt about me and whether she loved me; Kevine continually replied, in Kinyarwanda of course, that she loved me and I was her muzungu. I died again.
I want to maintain some sort of contact with Kevine after I leave. Obviously there is a language barrier, but I would like to be able to mail her Christmas gifts and goodies from time to time, and maybe keep in touch once she gets a bit older and heads to school, where they are now required to learn English anyway. Did I mention that she's only three years old?! I thought she was just a small five or six year old--she is so lingual and sassy and bright!
Enough gushing.
Monday night, I went to see a German hip hop group, Massive Tone. It was awesome. They were great, though they barely used any of their own beats--almost everything was sampled, and after the show a bunch of local rappers (everyone here is either a small-time rapper or a small-time gospel singer, I swear) hopped up onstage and began a freestyling competition!
And last night, the woman who drove me home from Gisenyi had me over for dinner with one of her colleagues and his wife! It was very ex-pat-in-Africa. Her driver picked me up and her cook made special vegetarian dishes just for me. But it was awesome and I absolutely loved it!
Today I had Association visits in the morning, and visited for the second time the HIV+ woman whose husband likes to come home drunk and declare that the house smells like AIDS. I found out today that not only is he verbally abusive and a shmuck who refuses to get tested because he 'knows he's negative' despite fathering four children with an HIV+ woman, but he is also abusive on many other levels. Before she joined the Association, he used to beat her. Thankfully, though, now he does not do so for fear of retaliation from the strength of the Association. So instead, he locks his wife and four children in the house from the outside every night while he works a graveyard shift. This is especially fucked up because the bathroom is an outhouse. Visiting with this woman and her beautiful, sweet children (one of whom has a positive HIV diagnosis--they suspect two others are also positive but do not have definitive results yet) makes me so frustrated and furious. I just want to slap her husband across the face a thousand times. It makes me wish that the Rwandan culture wasn't quite so family-oriented, because the idea of leaving him and protecting herself and her children is not an option that would even cross this woman's mind. Aside from the fact that she is HIV+ and unemployed with four children at the age of 27, she would never betray the binds of family that are so intrinsic to Rwandan village culture.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Gisenyi
...is Paradise. Literally. I stayed at a hotel that would have easily cost $300 per night for my room: a bungalow alongside Lake Kivu, about twenty feet from the beach. It cost about $54 a night.
We got into Gisenyi, which is literally a five minute drive from the border with the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) at Goma, Friday night just before dinner. It was dark and raining outside so we had literally no idea what the beach and the hotel looked like! After checking in and sitting down to dinner, we were lucky enough to see a cultural dance-and-drum performance that was leased for the thirty-odd Canadian Christian Missionaries who also happened to be at dinner.
The next morning we got to actually see Lake Kivu, and it was worth the wait. It looks more like a sea than a lake. It is immense and deep (the 15th deepest lake in the world!) and sparkling blue, and has a beautiful rock beach. My words will not do the lake an inch of justice, so you will just have to wait to see my photos when I upload them. And you will. I took approximately 100 landscape shots of the lake. Seriously. Anyway, the most beautiful part about Kivu is that it's a lake among the milles collines (thousand hills) of Rwanda, so it is flanked by hills both nearby and in the distance. The hotel has a small island property less than a mile off-shore, and it dots the landscape in a very charming way.
Saturday, I spent the morning sunning and swimming in the lake, which is admittedly not always safe to swim in. Kivu is an "exploding lake," which means that it contains methane and CO2 (because of the very active volcano right across the border in Goma). It is one three known lakes that have these limnic eruptions in the world. The concentration of CO2 could also cause tsunamis. Anyway, now that I've terrified you, I hasten to note that Kivu is normally incredibly safe, and a great swim. The methane in Kivu is also, believe it or not, an environmental and economic boon to Rwanda. A brewery alongside the lake that produces local Primus beer and several Coca Cola products is extracting the methane to produce energy to run the plant's boilers.
I met a number of really interesting people in Gisenyi. I met two students--one from Yale and one from Virginia Commonwealth--who are studying abroad on an SIT program in Gulu, Uganda and Kigali. It was so nice to have college students to talk to for once...I felt more like myself than I have in quite a while. I also met this awesome expat from London who is contracted in Kigali for the year working with the government on capacity building, and her friend Jean-Paul, a local from Kigali. They drove me home last night from Gisenyi, which is about a three hour drive. It was so incredibly generous. I also met the son of the hotel owner, a Rwandese man who was born in Burundi and has lived all over the world and speaks five languages easily. He now does marketing for the hotel. He took me and several other guests, including the ex-pat and Jean-Paul, on a boat trip to the hotel's island property, which was absolutely gorgeous.
This weekend was a blessing and a half. I really needed to meet people outside of my volunteer group, and to spend some time in a different environment. I'm sunburnt on my back from the boat trip, but I feel more content that I have in quite some time.
We got into Gisenyi, which is literally a five minute drive from the border with the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) at Goma, Friday night just before dinner. It was dark and raining outside so we had literally no idea what the beach and the hotel looked like! After checking in and sitting down to dinner, we were lucky enough to see a cultural dance-and-drum performance that was leased for the thirty-odd Canadian Christian Missionaries who also happened to be at dinner.
The next morning we got to actually see Lake Kivu, and it was worth the wait. It looks more like a sea than a lake. It is immense and deep (the 15th deepest lake in the world!) and sparkling blue, and has a beautiful rock beach. My words will not do the lake an inch of justice, so you will just have to wait to see my photos when I upload them. And you will. I took approximately 100 landscape shots of the lake. Seriously. Anyway, the most beautiful part about Kivu is that it's a lake among the milles collines (thousand hills) of Rwanda, so it is flanked by hills both nearby and in the distance. The hotel has a small island property less than a mile off-shore, and it dots the landscape in a very charming way.
Saturday, I spent the morning sunning and swimming in the lake, which is admittedly not always safe to swim in. Kivu is an "exploding lake," which means that it contains methane and CO2 (because of the very active volcano right across the border in Goma). It is one three known lakes that have these limnic eruptions in the world. The concentration of CO2 could also cause tsunamis. Anyway, now that I've terrified you, I hasten to note that Kivu is normally incredibly safe, and a great swim. The methane in Kivu is also, believe it or not, an environmental and economic boon to Rwanda. A brewery alongside the lake that produces local Primus beer and several Coca Cola products is extracting the methane to produce energy to run the plant's boilers.
I met a number of really interesting people in Gisenyi. I met two students--one from Yale and one from Virginia Commonwealth--who are studying abroad on an SIT program in Gulu, Uganda and Kigali. It was so nice to have college students to talk to for once...I felt more like myself than I have in quite a while. I also met this awesome expat from London who is contracted in Kigali for the year working with the government on capacity building, and her friend Jean-Paul, a local from Kigali. They drove me home last night from Gisenyi, which is about a three hour drive. It was so incredibly generous. I also met the son of the hotel owner, a Rwandese man who was born in Burundi and has lived all over the world and speaks five languages easily. He now does marketing for the hotel. He took me and several other guests, including the ex-pat and Jean-Paul, on a boat trip to the hotel's island property, which was absolutely gorgeous.
This weekend was a blessing and a half. I really needed to meet people outside of my volunteer group, and to spend some time in a different environment. I'm sunburnt on my back from the boat trip, but I feel more content that I have in quite some time.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
BLACK AMERICAN COMEDY
One thing that has surprised me about Kigali is how little of an obvious black market it has. Kampala, in Uganda, has a HUGE black market that dominates the sidewalks. When I was there last summer, you could buy the Sex and the City Movie on DVD next to a copy of the last Harry Potter book and several of Michael Jackson's albums stuffed with printed album art on any street corner. There are no blankets with bath soap and CDs for sale in Kigali. The only black market that I have noticed is the DVD market, and it is very bizarre.
Usually, enterprising street salesmen carry DVD packages for Biblical films and Gospel performances, but a unique one caught my eye yesterday. Among the tales of Mary and Joseph was a DVD package that screamed "BLACK AMERICAN COMEDY." I assumed it was the title of a satirical film, perhaps made here, in Hillywood, as the Rwandan film industry is called. Upon closer review, it revealed itself to be "The Fighting Temptations," of course, Cuba Gooding Jr.'s seminal work, costarring Beyonce. The words "BLACK AMERICAN COMEDY" were literally ten times the size of the film's actual title on this DVD case.
Beyonce's body of work aside, I have had a very interesting week since we last spoke. This weekend I got very sick, and stayed in most of the weekend through Monday. Almost everyone in the guest house got whatever I had. I will spare you the details. Saturday, however, I went to my first ever football match!! Rwanda vs. Zambia! And it was an African Cup semifinals game! The game ended 0-0, though, and Zambia moved onto the next round. The Rwandan National Team (the Amavubi Stars) fought hard, and it was actually very fun, for a girl who doesn't give two hoots about football.
As for work, it's been pretty slow at the Centre Sante this week. I stayed home Monday for fear of infecting babies with whatever it was that I had, and Tuesday I administered polio vaccines as usual. Today there was absolutely nothing to do there. Yesterday (Wednesday) I had a home visit in the morning way way out in a rural area adjacent to the military camp. There was this great AIDS awareness poster up in one of the towns along the camp border: a man in camoflage and a woman are looking at each other with confused expressions, and the text screams "USE A CONDOM!" Anyway, the home visit yesterday required that I help this woman with AIDS do her washing. So I washed her family's clothes with some other members of the association. It was interesting. Rwandans use more soap than I have ever seen in my life.
On the bus to the home visit town yesterday, a woman got on in front of me with a very light-skinned baby in her arms. She turned around and feigned handing the baby off to me, saying "this one's yours!" That happens a lot. At the clinic, whenever we get a light-skinned baby in the vaccine room, the nurses tell me they must be my children.
Tomorrow I am leaving for a trip to Gisenyi, near the DRC border, to spend the weekend alongside Lake Kivu. It is supposed to be a beautiful lake beach, and I am super excited!
Also, World AIDS Day is coming up (Dec. 1st)!! I can't wait to see what Kigali does in terms of awareness events and campaigns.
That's all for now!
Usually, enterprising street salesmen carry DVD packages for Biblical films and Gospel performances, but a unique one caught my eye yesterday. Among the tales of Mary and Joseph was a DVD package that screamed "BLACK AMERICAN COMEDY." I assumed it was the title of a satirical film, perhaps made here, in Hillywood, as the Rwandan film industry is called. Upon closer review, it revealed itself to be "The Fighting Temptations," of course, Cuba Gooding Jr.'s seminal work, costarring Beyonce. The words "BLACK AMERICAN COMEDY" were literally ten times the size of the film's actual title on this DVD case.
Beyonce's body of work aside, I have had a very interesting week since we last spoke. This weekend I got very sick, and stayed in most of the weekend through Monday. Almost everyone in the guest house got whatever I had. I will spare you the details. Saturday, however, I went to my first ever football match!! Rwanda vs. Zambia! And it was an African Cup semifinals game! The game ended 0-0, though, and Zambia moved onto the next round. The Rwandan National Team (the Amavubi Stars) fought hard, and it was actually very fun, for a girl who doesn't give two hoots about football.
As for work, it's been pretty slow at the Centre Sante this week. I stayed home Monday for fear of infecting babies with whatever it was that I had, and Tuesday I administered polio vaccines as usual. Today there was absolutely nothing to do there. Yesterday (Wednesday) I had a home visit in the morning way way out in a rural area adjacent to the military camp. There was this great AIDS awareness poster up in one of the towns along the camp border: a man in camoflage and a woman are looking at each other with confused expressions, and the text screams "USE A CONDOM!" Anyway, the home visit yesterday required that I help this woman with AIDS do her washing. So I washed her family's clothes with some other members of the association. It was interesting. Rwandans use more soap than I have ever seen in my life.
On the bus to the home visit town yesterday, a woman got on in front of me with a very light-skinned baby in her arms. She turned around and feigned handing the baby off to me, saying "this one's yours!" That happens a lot. At the clinic, whenever we get a light-skinned baby in the vaccine room, the nurses tell me they must be my children.
Tomorrow I am leaving for a trip to Gisenyi, near the DRC border, to spend the weekend alongside Lake Kivu. It is supposed to be a beautiful lake beach, and I am super excited!
Also, World AIDS Day is coming up (Dec. 1st)!! I can't wait to see what Kigali does in terms of awareness events and campaigns.
That's all for now!
Thursday, November 12, 2009
My Daughter, Hoes, and Fun Facts!
I have resolved to become a better blogger. I swear I will continue to update this somewhat regularly.
Today I was very nearly adopted by a four year old sassypants named Kevine. She latched onto me after we danced together to bide the time at the clinic because I didn't have any work to do, and began calling me Mama Muzungu, which eventually condensed into the dear Mamazungu. Eventually her mother needed to leave and quite literally dragged Kevine by the arm because she had decided that she now belonged to Mamazungu.
Today's work at the clinic wasn't the standard polio vaccination, because they do ophthalmology exams instead on Thursdays. So I helped Alphonsine, one of the nurses with whom I usually speak French, manage the ARV (anti retroviral medication) pharmacy requests. She taught me how to enter the patients' information and their prescriptions. The cutest thing was that she decided to work on her English today, and when she indicated gender in the pharmacy log, rather than "female" she would tell me "wife."
In other clinic news, on Wednesday one of the nurses brought me to see a newborn baby. And I mean NEW. BORN. Like, gray and covered in blood with the umbilical cord waving in the wind and its momma visible and spread-eagle in the background. Birth is gross, y'all.
Yesterday I did a home visit with a woman from the Association (of HIV positive people and their supporters). We had to take bicycle taxis--literally bicycles with seats above the rear tire--to her home because it was rural and not really accessible otherwise. I hoed the area outside her home to ensure that she would not be attacked by snakes hiding in the grass. I've never held a hoe before, and all of the Rwandans made fun of my hoeing stance, but I got the job done!
Now for some fun facts about Rwanda:
The day I arrived was the last Saturday of October. That is significant because the last Saturday of each month is cleaning day! Cleaning day is both your civic duty and a legal mandate. Kigali is incredibly beautiful and well-kept, and that is largely due to cleaning day and the civic culture it is a part of. On cleaning day, citizens of Rwanda take to the streets and the roads and clean and prune the hedges and trim the grass and pick up litter. The culture of respecting our city is pervasive; it is illegal at penalty of I think $75 to walk on the grass on the neutral ground (medians) of the roads here. Apparently, if you litter by President Paul Kagame's motorcade, he will get out and personally chastise you. Also, plastic bag are illegal here and have been for a couple of years now. Pretty progressive for a third world African country, no?
Today I was very nearly adopted by a four year old sassypants named Kevine. She latched onto me after we danced together to bide the time at the clinic because I didn't have any work to do, and began calling me Mama Muzungu, which eventually condensed into the dear Mamazungu. Eventually her mother needed to leave and quite literally dragged Kevine by the arm because she had decided that she now belonged to Mamazungu.
Today's work at the clinic wasn't the standard polio vaccination, because they do ophthalmology exams instead on Thursdays. So I helped Alphonsine, one of the nurses with whom I usually speak French, manage the ARV (anti retroviral medication) pharmacy requests. She taught me how to enter the patients' information and their prescriptions. The cutest thing was that she decided to work on her English today, and when she indicated gender in the pharmacy log, rather than "female" she would tell me "wife."
In other clinic news, on Wednesday one of the nurses brought me to see a newborn baby. And I mean NEW. BORN. Like, gray and covered in blood with the umbilical cord waving in the wind and its momma visible and spread-eagle in the background. Birth is gross, y'all.
Yesterday I did a home visit with a woman from the Association (of HIV positive people and their supporters). We had to take bicycle taxis--literally bicycles with seats above the rear tire--to her home because it was rural and not really accessible otherwise. I hoed the area outside her home to ensure that she would not be attacked by snakes hiding in the grass. I've never held a hoe before, and all of the Rwandans made fun of my hoeing stance, but I got the job done!
Now for some fun facts about Rwanda:
The day I arrived was the last Saturday of October. That is significant because the last Saturday of each month is cleaning day! Cleaning day is both your civic duty and a legal mandate. Kigali is incredibly beautiful and well-kept, and that is largely due to cleaning day and the civic culture it is a part of. On cleaning day, citizens of Rwanda take to the streets and the roads and clean and prune the hedges and trim the grass and pick up litter. The culture of respecting our city is pervasive; it is illegal at penalty of I think $75 to walk on the grass on the neutral ground (medians) of the roads here. Apparently, if you litter by President Paul Kagame's motorcade, he will get out and personally chastise you. Also, plastic bag are illegal here and have been for a couple of years now. Pretty progressive for a third world African country, no?
Monday, November 9, 2009
I am the Worst Blogger Ever
Hello.
Since we last spoke I have been in Paris with Janis, Cedric, Lauren and about a third of the Tulane population, Versailles, Prague, Vienna, and Budapest with my Dad (and Mira, briefly!) and back to London.
Now I am in Kigali, Rwanda.
Some interesting travel observations, briefly:
1. If I never see another Impressionist or Post-Impressionist painting in my life, I think I'll be good.
2. The Charles Bridge in Prague was made of sandstone, but the mortar was mixed with eggs and wine to keep it strong.
3. Entry in my travel journal from Vienna: "VIENNA...eh"
4. There are a lot of Neo-Nazis in Budapest and Hungary as a whole. I saw a Jobbik (the political party) rally and it was scary.
5. In Budapest, you can not ask for directions to "The Synagogue." You must ask where the "Jewish Church" is.
Now for Rwanda. It is the most beautiful place I have ever been, in terms of natural landscape. It is a lush, hilly (Milles Collines means 1000 hills, after all) region that doesn't really fulfill any Western stereotype of Africa. The people here would not be out of place in New Orleans or other homey cities in the American South. Everyone is immensely friendly and will go out of their way to be helpful and nice. My placement is with the organization's "HIV/AIDS" program, but there is very little program to speak of. I am working at a health center, the Centre de Sante Kimirongo (Kimirongo is the district--it is the health center for the whole district). At first they didn't really have a job for me, but after several strange days of placements that included weighing women during their family planning consultations and sitting in a room for three hours listening to doctors and HIV+ patients talk about ARV (anti-retroviral medication) results in Kinyarwanda, a language of which I speak about thirty words, I have finally found something that I enjoy doing and actually helps: today I administered Polio immunizations to about two dozen babies!!! It is possibly the best job ever. I sit in an immunization room with these brand new babies--I'd say none are more than 7 months old, and a couple were quite literally born yesterday--and I smile at their moms and administer the immunizations (which are not shots, but liquid drops that they swallow) and hold the babies sometimes and play with their fingers to keep them from swatting away the vaccine. BEST JOB EVER.
The other component of my placement is home visits and consultation with the "Association," which is a UNAIDS CHAMP (Community HIV/AIDS Mobilization Project) group of community members comprised both of people living with HIV/AIDS and their negative-status neighbors and friends. The group I'm working with has 81 positive individuals, and an additional 25 or so community members who merely wish to lend their support to their friends. The people in the group (I met only with women last week but men and children also belong) struggle through so much, but they asked me question after question about HIV/AIDS in the United States and whether people in the US suffer the way that they do. They were shocked and frankly appalled that the US Government does not provide free ARV treatment as Rwanda does, and wondered aloud how Obama and his colleagues could "leave people to die." I assured them that it wasn't quite that harsh, though definitely a shame.
I don't quite know how well I will be able to help the Association, unfortunately. Visiting with women confined to their homes by the side-effects of ARVs coupled with a lack of sufficient and nutritious food (which is especially important to people on ARVs) and an advancing syndrome is interesting for me and, according to my translator, assures the women that people care about them and that they are not isolated from the rest of the world, but I want to give them something real and tangible. I am kicking ideas out with my translator (a woman named Claire, who is one of the warmest people I have ever met) regarding proposals and income-generating projects that I could endeavor to help them create.
On a lighter note, here are some fun notes about Rwanda:
Learn Kinyarwanda!
Muraho - hello
Mwaramutse - good morning
Amakuru ki? - how are you? (what is the news?)
Ni Meza - I am well/the news is good
and, as in all East African countries, Muzungu - whitey (not a diss, just a manner of addressing you)
I have been able to use a lot of French here, which has been tremendously handy, especially in the Centre de Sante. Rwanda taught French in schools along with the native language until LITERALLY this year, when the government decided to switch over to English. Therefore, many teachers are immensely confused and all of the better-educated people over 15 know French. My Frenglish has progressed immensely.
Another note: the Backstreet Boys are strangely popular here.
Finally, a breakdown of some prices here:
Avocados- $0.18 each
Pineapples- about $0.90 each
A plate of spinach, beans, rice, potatoes and french fries at the hospital- about $0.90
A $10-at-CVS jug of Carlo Rossi wine- 20,500 RWF, or about $36
Since we last spoke I have been in Paris with Janis, Cedric, Lauren and about a third of the Tulane population, Versailles, Prague, Vienna, and Budapest with my Dad (and Mira, briefly!) and back to London.
Now I am in Kigali, Rwanda.
Some interesting travel observations, briefly:
1. If I never see another Impressionist or Post-Impressionist painting in my life, I think I'll be good.
2. The Charles Bridge in Prague was made of sandstone, but the mortar was mixed with eggs and wine to keep it strong.
3. Entry in my travel journal from Vienna: "VIENNA...eh"
4. There are a lot of Neo-Nazis in Budapest and Hungary as a whole. I saw a Jobbik (the political party) rally and it was scary.
5. In Budapest, you can not ask for directions to "The Synagogue." You must ask where the "Jewish Church" is.
Now for Rwanda. It is the most beautiful place I have ever been, in terms of natural landscape. It is a lush, hilly (Milles Collines means 1000 hills, after all) region that doesn't really fulfill any Western stereotype of Africa. The people here would not be out of place in New Orleans or other homey cities in the American South. Everyone is immensely friendly and will go out of their way to be helpful and nice. My placement is with the organization's "HIV/AIDS" program, but there is very little program to speak of. I am working at a health center, the Centre de Sante Kimirongo (Kimirongo is the district--it is the health center for the whole district). At first they didn't really have a job for me, but after several strange days of placements that included weighing women during their family planning consultations and sitting in a room for three hours listening to doctors and HIV+ patients talk about ARV (anti-retroviral medication) results in Kinyarwanda, a language of which I speak about thirty words, I have finally found something that I enjoy doing and actually helps: today I administered Polio immunizations to about two dozen babies!!! It is possibly the best job ever. I sit in an immunization room with these brand new babies--I'd say none are more than 7 months old, and a couple were quite literally born yesterday--and I smile at their moms and administer the immunizations (which are not shots, but liquid drops that they swallow) and hold the babies sometimes and play with their fingers to keep them from swatting away the vaccine. BEST JOB EVER.
The other component of my placement is home visits and consultation with the "Association," which is a UNAIDS CHAMP (Community HIV/AIDS Mobilization Project) group of community members comprised both of people living with HIV/AIDS and their negative-status neighbors and friends. The group I'm working with has 81 positive individuals, and an additional 25 or so community members who merely wish to lend their support to their friends. The people in the group (I met only with women last week but men and children also belong) struggle through so much, but they asked me question after question about HIV/AIDS in the United States and whether people in the US suffer the way that they do. They were shocked and frankly appalled that the US Government does not provide free ARV treatment as Rwanda does, and wondered aloud how Obama and his colleagues could "leave people to die." I assured them that it wasn't quite that harsh, though definitely a shame.
I don't quite know how well I will be able to help the Association, unfortunately. Visiting with women confined to their homes by the side-effects of ARVs coupled with a lack of sufficient and nutritious food (which is especially important to people on ARVs) and an advancing syndrome is interesting for me and, according to my translator, assures the women that people care about them and that they are not isolated from the rest of the world, but I want to give them something real and tangible. I am kicking ideas out with my translator (a woman named Claire, who is one of the warmest people I have ever met) regarding proposals and income-generating projects that I could endeavor to help them create.
On a lighter note, here are some fun notes about Rwanda:
Learn Kinyarwanda!
Muraho - hello
Mwaramutse - good morning
Amakuru ki? - how are you? (what is the news?)
Ni Meza - I am well/the news is good
and, as in all East African countries, Muzungu - whitey (not a diss, just a manner of addressing you)
I have been able to use a lot of French here, which has been tremendously handy, especially in the Centre de Sante. Rwanda taught French in schools along with the native language until LITERALLY this year, when the government decided to switch over to English. Therefore, many teachers are immensely confused and all of the better-educated people over 15 know French. My Frenglish has progressed immensely.
Another note: the Backstreet Boys are strangely popular here.
Finally, a breakdown of some prices here:
Avocados- $0.18 each
Pineapples- about $0.90 each
A plate of spinach, beans, rice, potatoes and french fries at the hospital- about $0.90
A $10-at-CVS jug of Carlo Rossi wine- 20,500 RWF, or about $36
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Brussels & Amsterdam
Hello!
I am currently in Amsterdam, staying with my cousin Liz & Frans. Their apartment has the most beautiful view of the (dammed up) sea.
I arrived on Friday after an epic journey from London to Brussels, and then from Brussels on here. I was able to leave the train station for about three hours to see Brussels, and saw precisely what I needed: chocolates, espresso and the most picturesque market plaza you will ever see. (There are pictures for this post, but I have not uploaded them yet for fear of overloading Frans & Liz's computer.) I also got to practice my impeccably shoddy French.
A favorite exchange of mine: I attempted to ask for soy milk at a cafe, and not knowing the word for "soy" in French, essentially asked for 'the milk not of the cow but the milk of vegetables.' Unsurprisingly, he did not know what I was talking about.
Other observations from Brussels: one of the metro stops is called Hotel de Monnaies, which just reminded me of Count de Monay from Mel Brooks' "History of the World Part I." the Brussels metro system is simultaneously incredibly organized and incredibly easy for freeloading.
From Brussels I continued, as I said before, to Amsterdam via train. The one sad thing about taking the train everywhere is that I do not have passport stamps from Belgium or the Netherlands! That upset me a bit.
I've spent two full days in Amsterdam so far. The first day I got quite lost in the touristy-Centraal district, which overlaps with the Red Light District. I must say, the Red Light District did not really shock me at all--it's really just a more explicit Bourbon Street. And not much more explicit at that. (I've certainly seen more nudity on Bourbon.)
I asked a man for directions yesterday, and he drew me a map based on following canals and crossing bridges. However, as everything in Amsterdam is canals and bridges, the map only servevd to confuse me more. Eventually I made it to the Rijksmuseum, the central museum of Dutch art and history. There was a Hendrick Avercamp painting there of a winter scene, and its description noted that among the painting's many figures, there was one peeing in the background. That painting had a cluster of almost ten people trying to find the urinator.
Today I visited the Auschwitz memorial, which is very catching in its brevity, and visited the Hortus Botanicus Amsterdam, one of the oldest botanical gardens in the world--it was established in 1638 as a medicinal herb garden! It was beautiful and I must have taken 100 pictures--several of which you will see once I can upload photos. I saw a cycad that was potted over 300 years ago, and a number of butterflies very close up (just you WAIT for the pictures!).
Then I rented a bike and, in trying to find the Rembrant House, wound up quite a bit away at Museumplein, and instead just biked around Vondelpark (their Central Park) for a while. I spent probably three or four hours on the bike today, which was really nice despite the heavy winds.
When I can upload pictures, I will.
I am currently in Amsterdam, staying with my cousin Liz & Frans. Their apartment has the most beautiful view of the (dammed up) sea.
I arrived on Friday after an epic journey from London to Brussels, and then from Brussels on here. I was able to leave the train station for about three hours to see Brussels, and saw precisely what I needed: chocolates, espresso and the most picturesque market plaza you will ever see. (There are pictures for this post, but I have not uploaded them yet for fear of overloading Frans & Liz's computer.) I also got to practice my impeccably shoddy French.
A favorite exchange of mine: I attempted to ask for soy milk at a cafe, and not knowing the word for "soy" in French, essentially asked for 'the milk not of the cow but the milk of vegetables.' Unsurprisingly, he did not know what I was talking about.
Other observations from Brussels: one of the metro stops is called Hotel de Monnaies, which just reminded me of Count de Monay from Mel Brooks' "History of the World Part I." the Brussels metro system is simultaneously incredibly organized and incredibly easy for freeloading.
From Brussels I continued, as I said before, to Amsterdam via train. The one sad thing about taking the train everywhere is that I do not have passport stamps from Belgium or the Netherlands! That upset me a bit.
I've spent two full days in Amsterdam so far. The first day I got quite lost in the touristy-Centraal district, which overlaps with the Red Light District. I must say, the Red Light District did not really shock me at all--it's really just a more explicit Bourbon Street. And not much more explicit at that. (I've certainly seen more nudity on Bourbon.)
I asked a man for directions yesterday, and he drew me a map based on following canals and crossing bridges. However, as everything in Amsterdam is canals and bridges, the map only servevd to confuse me more. Eventually I made it to the Rijksmuseum, the central museum of Dutch art and history. There was a Hendrick Avercamp painting there of a winter scene, and its description noted that among the painting's many figures, there was one peeing in the background. That painting had a cluster of almost ten people trying to find the urinator.
Today I visited the Auschwitz memorial, which is very catching in its brevity, and visited the Hortus Botanicus Amsterdam, one of the oldest botanical gardens in the world--it was established in 1638 as a medicinal herb garden! It was beautiful and I must have taken 100 pictures--several of which you will see once I can upload photos. I saw a cycad that was potted over 300 years ago, and a number of butterflies very close up (just you WAIT for the pictures!).
Then I rented a bike and, in trying to find the Rembrant House, wound up quite a bit away at Museumplein, and instead just biked around Vondelpark (their Central Park) for a while. I spent probably three or four hours on the bike today, which was really nice despite the heavy winds.
When I can upload pictures, I will.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
bridges around the world
Since last post I've been quite busy.
This weekend, Jo, her friend Hannah & my hostel roommate Tommy went out on the town to the hip neighborhood of Camden to see where the party was at.
It was at The Cuban, a very fun salsa bar. I danced with many strange strangers and was asked for Joanna's hand in salsa by some creepy tourist who was hard of hearing.
We also had drunk chips and found an immensely hipster hipster bar called the Elephant's Ear.
The next morning I attempted to meet Jessica, who was my rooommate last summer in Uganda, at Trafalgar Square for what was supposed to be the UK Creole Festival but was instead a talent show and rising stars showcase to commemorate the last day of UK World Peace Week. Jessica and I never found each other, so instead I watched a number of mediocre rappers call for peace, and also visited the National Gallery. The highlight by far of the art there was Rubens' "Rape of the Sabine Women."
Joanna met me at the not-Creole festival later in the day, and we enjoyed the dance stylings of these two gentlemen:
Today I visited the Tower of London, though I didn't go in because it cost about $30 US to go and that's pretty ridiculous. So instead I took pictures of signposts that pointed toward the "Ticket Booth," "Cafe" and "Beheading". Then I climbed the Tower Bridge and visited the mini-museum there! The museum consists of climbing about seven flights of stairs to the top crossing, and checking out some signposts and "exhibits." It was totally worth it for the view of London though, and for the "bridges of the world" exhibition description which read the following: "Manhattan can represent an unattainable dream to some Brooklyn residents whilst some Manhattanites view Brooklyn as a dull and undesirable neighbor." Then I jumped the bridge on a motorcycle:
[click photo to see the whole thing...blogspot cut it off]
Yea, I've stayed busy with my new hobbies and such. I'm in London until Friday, then it's off to Amsterdam to stay with my cousin Liz & Frans!
Friday, September 25, 2009
LDN
I arrived yesterday at 9-ish am local time and took the underground to my hostel. From there I wandered over to Shepherds Bush, which Pip advised me is the city's Little Australia (a London Tourism website advised me that the neighborhood is affectionately known as "Da Bush"). Later in the day I took the underground to the Westminster stop and sightsaw/sightseed? I saw the Parliament building and Westminster Abbey, and walked to the Thames on the North Side Riverwalk. After walking up and down the Riverwalk, I crossed a Jubilee bridge (cute name, right? there are two matching ones on either side of train tracks) to the South bank of the river and visited Trafalgar Square.
There was a man dressed as the Grim Reaper reading names over a microphone, standing on a high promontory next to the National Portrait Gallery. Officials brought him down...
Some of the boys from the hostel and I went to a pub for dinner and pints last night. It was very fun, but, having been awake since the day before, I was exhausted and headachey. I wound up falling asleep that night after 28+ hours awake. A personal record, I think.
Today two of my roommates, Tom and John, and I met Joanna and visited her school (UCL) and the British Museum. Afterward, Tom Joanna and I saw Buckingham Palace (though we missed the changing of the guards) and some lovely parks. Jo and I then walked to Trafalgar square and the Riverwalk on the South bank, eventually crossing the Millennium Bridge, which to me has the divine association with the 6th Harry Potter film. By the time we got on the train back to her house we had been touring for nine hours.
I'm putting in some serious walking time and sightseeing effort, and have been thoroughly exhausted as a result. The beds at the hostel are clean but less comfortable than sleeping on a hard wooden floor, and Tom snores so loudly that you'd think it was a cartoon impersonation of snoring. I figured out a way to plump up my pillows so that they're thick enough for me to fall asleep, thankfully, but what I really need to invest in is a set of earplugs.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
First Post
Here I go again (on my own)! Ok, enough Whitesnake.
My flight leaves tonight at 9pm for London. I've been sitting around New York for long enough; I'm so anxious for this trip to start!
I don't know how often I will have access to computers after the first few weeks, but I will try to upload this as often as possible.
My itinerary: NY-->London-->Paris-->Prague-->Vienna-->Budapest-->[London-->] Rwanda!-->Kenya-->NY.
Most of the time I will be alone-ish. In London and Paris I will be staying with very lovely and gracious friends, and for the Prague/Vienna/Budapest leg I will be traveling with my Dad. But mostly I'm flying solo.
My flight leaves tonight at 9pm for London. I've been sitting around New York for long enough; I'm so anxious for this trip to start!
I don't know how often I will have access to computers after the first few weeks, but I will try to upload this as often as possible.
My itinerary: NY-->London-->Paris-->Prague-->Vienna-->Budapest-->[London-->] Rwanda!-->Kenya-->NY.
Most of the time I will be alone-ish. In London and Paris I will be staying with very lovely and gracious friends, and for the Prague/Vienna/Budapest leg I will be traveling with my Dad. But mostly I'm flying solo.
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