Settling into daily life…
So, I shall
write about some of my favourite moments from the past few weeks, the ones that
know I will remember forever. Those times when you are so in the moment,
thinking ‘this is why I’m here… and I’ll
never get this chance to do this again!’ And I feel very lucky indeed.
My first few
days at college included a ‘snogging assembly’, a mystery of some disappearing
markers… a disastrous attempt to teach ‘King of the Jungle’, observing a
brilliant song about ‘Polluntioneeee’ and some very shaky grammar, including
the past tenses: eatedeee and readedeee, several student parties including lots
of dancing.
I have also successfully
delivered my first 2 training workshops and been asked to return to do more. I
found myself slightly lost halfway to Rwamagana one morning and simply couldn't
imagine a lovelier place to be lost in the whole world... in the morning
sunshine, amidst the banana trees, halfway up a hill... with a full tank on the
moto and endless possibilities for the day ahead!! (And a perfect opportunity
for a few photographs of course!) Oh… and the village water has come back on this
evening after 4 days – best day ever!
So it’s now
my third week here in my village! Things here are good and what is funny is
that some of the little things that I would initially have mentioned in my
blog, are now so ‘everyday’ that it’s hard to think of them!! So I need to make
sure that I keep on noticing them all! And that’s another funny thing – that
even though doing VSO is something I’ve dreamt of doing all my life, now I’m
here… and really living in a tiny village in the middle of Africa, surrounded
by banana trees and gathering my water in buckets when the supply reaches the
village, this is now my life and it’s just normal for me! But I do get lots of
‘reality check moments’ when I think, ‘Wow!
I’m really here!!’
Fabric in my favourite Kigali cafe
Rainstorm
At the
moment it is the short rainy season, which I discovered is about how long it
rains for, rather than the length of the season. I’ll admit that I initially
thought it was about the length of each actual raindrop… until I realised probably
not! (Lots of time to think here!) Mornings are fresh and mild, but the days
really heat up until the air is steaming and sweltering and the tin roofs creak
and crack and flex as they expand and the sky becomes hazy and the clouds roll
in. I really love the dramatic weather that unfolds each day and from my
college I can see the storm clouds rolling in over the hills in the distance,
and then up the valley towards the village. Yesterday I was wandering through
the village after lunch and out of nowhere a dust storm whirled up, spinning
the red dust in spirals as everyone dived into shops and houses for cover.
Another day
I was walking back to college with my colleagues after lunch and suddenly the
air pressure changed and the wind gusted and whipped up the dust and leaves and
the rain started so heavily we didn’t even have a moment to dive for shelter!
We sprinted off the road, helter-skeltering along a tiny path through the
banana trees to the first house we could see, to shelter beneath the porch. We
huddled together, flattening ourselves against the wall to avoid the pummelling
rain, which was bouncing up from the ground with as much force as it was
falling.
Before we
had caught our breath, and still grinning from the exhilaration of escaping the
sudden rainstorm, the door had opened and we were being invited into the little
house. As our eyes adjusted slowly to the dark room we were welcomed in by a
very charming gentleman who seemed as happy to have unexpected guests as we
were to have been offered shelter! We followed the usual Rwandan greetings and
our elderly host was very bemused by my Kinyarwanda, and proudly insisted that
we all speak English.
So, drying off in in his front room, as the rain pounded the roof, he told us of his
life and travels, his family and history, as well as his impressive work within
very high circles. It was a real pleasure to meet such a charming and
interesting gentleman and certainly an example of the value that people in
Rwanda place on hospitality. Eventually the rain eased, we made our grateful
thank you’s and goodbyes and shook hands and hugged in the Rwandan way, and we
dashed through puddles as we made our way backup to college.
Glitter and gold.
Lightning
storms are another almost daily feature of life here. The sky blackens and
splits as lightning forks through the air, often so close to the college that
it lights the room through windows on every side of the building! The thunder
can be so loud that it becomes impossible to hold a conversation but I’ve been
reassured that these are just normal throughout the rainy season and would not
make the national news in the same way that they would in the UK and that I
probably don’t need to consider sitting under the table! (It had crossed my
mind.)
One
afternoon, the lightning continued into the evening and the electricity went
off, which it mostly does. So I sat outside my house in the moonlight, with my
lovely neighbour and we chatted in a ‘melange’
(Kinyarwanda for mix) of Kinyarwanda and French as her daughter peeled potatoes
and she fried them in oil.
Moongazing!
Our evening
chats have become another lovely feature of life here and I know that I am very
lucky that I live in the heart of my village (rather than where it was
originally planned that I should live).
Apparently
my little house was not considered to be ‘agreeable’ for me, but I’d honestly
say that there is nothing that I want for or would possibly change! I just feel
very fortunate to be here!
There is
something magical about sitting outside beneath the silvery moon, as the banana
trees rustle gently, huddled around the charcoal stove which glows gently…just
chatting simply (until I learn some new vocabulary!) about the day. Sitting out
under the stars and ‘moon-gazing’ has become an almost daily feature of my life
here. It falls dark at 6.15 every night and quite rapidly becomes pitch black.
That evening
the sky flashed with lightning and the moon cast a gentle yellow light and the
charcoal stove gleamed amber and my lovely neighbour insisted on sharing the
chips with me. They tasted delicious sprinkled with salt and tomato sauce… and
we ate together with her family by candlelight under the moon. I couldn’t imagine anything better!
Mysterious visitor.
I tend to
get up really early around 5.30 as I can do so much more on a light morning than
in the evening when there is almost always a power-cut. But until I had
properly adjusted to this routine, I also kept my quite late nights and often
felt that I really was the last person in my whole village to go to bed as the
entire village fell quiet. One evening, as I made my way back towards my house
from the pit latrine that is at the end of the garden, I spotted a large
creature slinking away as it heard me. I have no idea what it was, but the next
night, on a similar trip, my torch picked up two huge bright amber eyes in the
dark, before they also turned and disappeared. I’m really curious about my
night-time visitor… and wonder if I’ll ever know what it was.
I mentioned
that my village falls quiet… but actually it’s really loud here at night, with
the banana trees that sound like the sea and sometimes like the rain, chirps
and chirrups of night-time birds and insects and howls and squeaks and cries and
creaks that, like my visitor, remain a mystery to me. I would have imagined
feeling very nervous venturing outside at night, but there is definitely
something very magical about my night garden and I’m reminded of Carrie Hepple, the main character in one
of my favourite childhood books.
Morning walk.
My walk to
college is another pleasure of my daily life here. After a breakfast of
pineapple or porridge with local honey and bananas with fresh Rwandan coffee, I
leave my house around 7 and make my way along my narrow, slippery path up to
the main road through the village, a dusty red track that has tiny shops on
each side.
Walk to work.
I greet my
neighbours and ask how they slept, how their morning was, how their family is, shaking
hands and remembering the correct greeting for the time of day, as well as the
correct response, and the hierarchy of respect, as well as the level of
formality or familiarity (a complex system of hugging up to 3 times, touching foreheads,
shaking hands but holding your arm as a mark of respect for the other person)…
which is all very important, and I greet the moto-drivers and the children and
the shop keepers, I make my way across the road and onto the path that leads to
my TCC. There is a house where there always seems to be a game of draughts
being played – using Fanta caps as pieces – such a great idea! So colourful
too!
Seems I’m still a bit of a novelty here and being
stared at is part of my daily life but people in the village are very friendly
and are happy to chat if I greet them and I’ve started to make friends along
the way too. I love the sights on my walk to work – bright fabrics with bold
patterns, baskets of bananas and jerry-cans pushed along on bicycles, children
with hoops and sticks and homemade footballs made from banana leaves, and
fluorescent plastic flipflops. This afternoon, as I walked home from college to
meet my new Kinyarwanda teacher at a café, I even had two people greet me – a real
sign of becoming accepted – as well as somebody calling my name and waving
wildly from about 100m away!
There is a
group of very tiny children in scruffy uniforms that love to follow me and
giggle nervously and run away as I smile at them and try to chat, and one in
particular who often spots me from the end of the road and runs to me, throwing
his arms around my knees to give me a huge hug! Children are very intrigued
when they see me and they often try to touch my skin – I’ve been told that some
believe that white skin is very delicate (and might break) or that it hurts me
to touch my skin!! It seems they all want to find out!
I have a purple umbrella
If I’m lucky
a local teacher from the primary school falls into step with me, although I
tend to walk much faster than anybody else does, and we chat until the road
forks and we take a different route. It’s nice to have a more meaningful
conversation and their English tends to be good. It had been really good to
have done a training workshop at the primary school as it means I know so many
more people here now! However, I particularly enjoy walking with my students who
are very softly spoken and respectful, and we chat quietly as we walk. They love to ask me lots of questions about
England and my job, before walking me to my classroom, shaking my hand again,
wishing me a good day, and continuing on their way. I’ve become known to some
of them as Miss Hazel, which I quite like!
However, I
realise that the people in my village are very patient with my limited
conversation topics, despite being very kind and encouraging about my very
simple phrases. This week have managed to tell people that ‘I had to wait
outside work because I don’t have the office key’ (new vocabulary: key and
because)… ironically it was while I was waiting for my colleague to arrive that
I stopped some students for a quick language lesson! Yesterday I managed, ‘It
is raining but I have a purple umbrella’. (New vocabulary: umbrella and
but). I know it might be a step too far
to announce that I do not have a key but I do have an umbrella! They may never
speak to me again! I can also do ‘I am walking fast because I have a meeting’
and ‘This morning there was no water at my house’. Ah… I also learnt ‘I am full’ after way too may Fanta na Mandazi!!
College life
I’m getting
into the swing of college life. I made a
memorable and slightly unusual entrance on my first day, having come the
‘scenic route’. I had walked what I thought was the correct route, along with a
large group of students – a good sign, I had imagined! I met an important man,
the head-teacher, who had asked who I was… not really a great sign! But I
introduced myself and as I realised that I
had arrived at the Primary school instead of the TTC, I turned the
conversation round by explaining my new
job at the TTC and that I was trying to
link up with the primary schools a part of my new job – hence being there! He
kindly pointed me in the right direction, past the water tank, and I made my
grand entrance across the field and through the hedge! I continued confidently
across the yard where all the TTC students were congregated, head held high and
walking purposefully until I was out of sight around a corner, where I had to
ask another student for further directions!
Morning at TTC with tudents gathering for morning news and prayers.
Baptism
Beyond
college, I have been to a baptism in the village and danced lots, discovered that I love ikivuguto – a curd drink like lassi that
I can buy in a tiny café near my house, dealt with my exploding water filter (I
arrived home one day to discover water pouring out from under my front door - usually I would have expected it to be the other way around!), eaten lots
of beans and rice for lunch at a different local café, arranged to start
Kinyarwanda language lessons this week, made my first and second independent
trips into Kigali, catching a moto-taxi out of my village, free-wheeling most of the way down
the hill to Kabuga where I catch a mutata bus into Kigali, discovered some of
the best cafés in Kigali, located Fabric
Alley where I plan to return on many occasions, and worked from the
poolside in Kigali, drinking coffee in the sunshine (writing my weekly reports)...
and danced lots!
I managed to
buy an entire week’s vegetables for under £1 and amused myself arranging them
into a rainbow on my kitchen table! I
have also branched out from tomato and garlic risotto, tomato and garlic pasta
and tomato and garlic couscous… which had already become a bit repetitive… and discovered
that my weekly shop includes everything I need to make coleslaw and guacamole!
Yum!
Off to market
Learner centred methodology training
Local primary school
'Ita ku mwana wese nk-uwawe'
Treat every child as if they were your own
Best place in the world to be lost!
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