What's in a name?

Every child has a right to a name; not a label...

My name is…

My name is not Refugee.

My neighbourhood was bombed and was no longer safe - so we had to leave.

I am a refugee, but that is not my name.

My name is not Child.

I am ten years old; I am a child, but that is not my name.

My name is not Orphan.

One day, men carrying guns took my father.  My uncle took me in.

I am an orphan, but that is not my name.

My name is not Muslim.

My father taught me to pray every day; my uncle teaches me the same.

I am Muslim, but that is not my name.

My father used to tell me it took a long time to choose a name for me.

I want to keep it.  I want you to use it.

My name is not a label - it is my right.

My name is…

2 years ago...

Over the last week or so, my Facebook newsfeed has been filled with reminders of things that happened 2 years ago.

What happened 2 years ago for me?

2 years ago, on September 6th 2013, I started my journey to Rwanda, landing into the capital Kigali on September 7th to begin my 10 day orientation with other fresh-faced, wide-eyed VSO volunteers from around the world.

I still remember the sights, sounds and smells that hit me as we all boarded the minibus to our orientation venue; cocktail feelings of anticipation, anxiety and excitement filled the air.  As we drove through the outskirts of Kigali, I wanted to capture EVERY sight with my camera from the PAVED roads and modern dress of the people to the man with 10+mattresses stacked upon his head...but I knew I had at least 12 months to do this...so I savoured the moments instead.

Squashed on the bus - but I'm sure we could have fit a few more in if we needed to...

2 years ago, on September 13th 2013, I took my first moto ride in Rwanda.  I couldn't get enough of them in the end...even to the point where I considered getting a motorbike licence!

Inappropriately dressed for a moto-ride

2 years ago, on September 17th 2013, I was introduced to the creative/literal-nature of Rwandan cooking/fast food - this is a pizza & chips, my favourite is the omelette & chips (fondly known by VSOers as 'The Chomlette.')

2 years ago, on 19th September 2013, the principal from the TTC (Teacher Training College) where I was to be posted, collected me to take me to the village.  First stop Nyabugogo (the main bus park.)  If you've ever watched 'The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel' - yes, that's set in India...but the experience I had wasn't too dissimilar to their first experience of catching a bus; my luggage was taken from me to be loaded on the minibus (inc. basins, buckets, jerry cans and other household items).  I was jostled onto the bus, withering in the heat; squished next to my principal and my two suitcases, I watched helplessly as my belongings passed by my window and disappeared somewhere unknown - probably never to be seen again...but 3 hours later, despite the many stops and unloading of goods from the back of the minibus, ALL my items were unloaded successfully - and NO breakages!

After a long lunch at the principal's home, we got into his 'vintage' VW-something-or-other (rusty and missing a few features - possibly nearly as old as I am?!) and headed further south to the village.  The scenery that passed me by was breath-taking - Rwanda is beautiful!  The roads wind round rolling, lush green hills, crafted carefully to make plots of farmland; towering Eucalyptus trees and arching Acacia trees line the edges of the roads with mud-brick houses appearing every so-often...and then the rain hit.  Just as we turned into the 'dirt' road, the rain came lashing down.  My principal, instead of slowing down seemed to speed up trying to reach our destination as quickly as possible.  I prayed for our lives - the dirt road clung to the edge of the mountains that we sped around - it was on the passenger side (my side) that the edge of the road was marked by a sheer drop...and then 45mins later...we arrived in Cyahinda.

Dark, and still pouring with rain we arrived at my new home to find that it was flooded...my mattress sodden through and there was no power!  The principal told me that I'd have to stay with him in the school compound.  A million and one thoughts rushed through my head - all that 'security' training that I had before leaving was to prepare me for this moment - it just came sooner than I thought.

I started to wonder if I'd made the right choice to move to Rwanda when the principal took me to the local bar - despite the warmth of the local people there, who after they got over the fact that I was (a) 'white' and (b) female, plucked up the courage to make me feel welcome by communicating in the little English they knew and learnt; I was very much ready to escape when a visiting priest decided to tell me incessantly that he loved me and wanted to marry me.  The principal, on several occasions, had to push the priest away because he was getting somewhat handsy.

That ended day one of being in Cyahinda.  2 years ago, today - that was my experience.

2 years ago, on 20th September 2013, I moved into my new house.  I had a roof over my head, it had electricity (after topping up the cash power/meter) but no running water and an outdoor pit-latrine, which was essentially a very deep hole with two flat stones on either side to place your feet.)  My closest water source was apparently 50 meters away...although I'm not so sure, I think in the end my helper used to get water from the TTC because it was free - 700m away!  (Imagine walking for 700m with 2 x 20l jerry-cans...she was a strong woman!)

 

Life in Cyahinda had started.  No sooner had I started to clean and unpack my belongings in my new home, I got a knock on my door to invite me to a football match.  Life in Cyahinda had started.

This was all 2 years ago but it feels like yesterday.

2 years ago, my life was turned upside down, but I wouldn't have had it any other way.

HANDS

Hold my hand – support me, comfort me, guide me, lead me

Hold my hand and I will support you, comfort you, guide you and lead you

Hands write, craft, build, create

Hands strike, destroy and violate

With one hand I defend, and with the other I attack

With one hand I affirm and exalt, and with the other I demote and dishonour

If my hands could speak, what would they say?

If your hands could speak, would you stand tall or rather feel small?

My eyes may be the window to my soul

But my hands are the canvas to my life

We're going on a bear hunt

Michael Rosen's book, 'We're going on a Bear Hunt' has captured the imagination of countless children all over the world.  I have used it on countless occasions in my teaching - both as a primary school teacher and in Rwanda during my trainings.  But it recently resonated far deeper with me as I was reading Isaiah 43. 

Rosen's book is about a family going on a 'bear hunt' and facing many obstacles along the way.  With each obstacle, the family exclaim, 

"We can't go over it.  We can't go under it.  Oh no!  We've got to go through it!"

Isaiah 43:2 reads:

"When you pass through the water, I will be with you; 

and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.  

When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; 

the flames will not set you ablaze."

Can you see where I'm about to go with this?  

It's been nearly 3 months since I returned to London from Rwanda.  People still ask me how I'm settling back - and I'm still finding it hard but I'm making my way THROUGH it.

Life in general, whether you are a christian or not will be filled with obstacles.  If we want to move forward, as in the bear hunt story, we have to understand that 'we can't go over it.  We can't go under it.  Oh no!  We've got to go through it!'  I'm still going through the 'oh no'-feeling of having to pass THROUGH this season/period/chapter of adjustment and settling.  In truth, I'm not entirely sure what my 'bear' is (i.e. the goal that I'm passing through all these hurdles to reach), but I'm persevering, building resilience along the way and rested in the knowledge that God is with me, just as Isaiah 43 states.

The Waiting Game

I'm not very good at waiting.
It feels like that's all I ever seem to be doing, waiting for:

• a bus/train
• a response to a job application
• a film to start
• meetings to start
• meetings to end
• letters/emails/texts from...?
• results of exams/medicals/interviews...
• appointments (doctor/dentist/optician/prospective jobs)
• an answer to a question
• even, God

Perhaps I'm impatient.
Is there something else better that I could be doing?
What do you do to fill the 'waiting' time?

This may not be the most Christian of anecdotes - but I'm forever reminded of the story about the man who prayed every night that he would win the lottery.  After weeks/months/years of waiting unsuccessfully to win, the man screams at God and says, 'why don't you answer my prayer?'  God responds, 'because you didn't buy a lottery ticket.'

I am currently in a state of restless limbo - uncertain of what the future holds but itching to move forward, to rediscover purpose, routine and passion in my daily life.  What exactly my 'lottery ticket' is, I do not know, but I realise that I must be actively seeking an answer somehow.  For the time being, I have decided to move away from classroom teaching - although my recent visit to my former primary school did make me reconsider for a split second.  (Thank you all at Christ Church for making me still feel part of your wonderful family despite having left two years ago!)  But the truth of the matter is that volunteering opened doors that I never knew existed (for me)...

And now follows the dilemma when faced with doors of opportunity.  If I face a closed door, what should I do?  Is it closed for a purpose?  Do I wait for someone to open it?  Do I knock and wait?  Or do I just try to open it myself?  Perhaps it's not just waiting that frustrates and confuses me but the different doors before me.  Some are easier to open than others but which do I actually walk through?

I've decided to 'knock and wait' but in the meantime, I hope to keep a hand/foot/eye in primary education and become a private tutor...SO, if there are any (North London based) parents looking for an English/Science or Maths tutor for KS1/2 (or know of ones who are looking) - LOOK NO FURTHER!  Please do get in contact if you are interested.

In any case, I am waiting.
Isaiah 40:31

Google Earthing

Friends have asked/encouraged me to continue with my musings...so here I am.

I've been back a month already (how? I do not know, but it feels like the fastest and the slowest month of my life all at the same time!)
I'm feeling somewhat out of place...still...
2 successful job applications, 2 unsuccessful interviews and I'm left with a sense of uncertainty.
Perhaps my confidence has been shaken - for what I thought I knew to be true of myself appears to no longer stand...

So what's the rush to apparently 'settle' into life here again?  (I avoided using the word, 'back' because I don't want to go backwards...) Thankfully I am in a privileged (and luxurious) position to be free from financial responsibilities (although I do miss my car...), I am surrounded by the love and support of my family (and friends) and I am grateful for the years of squirrelling I did before volunteering in Rwanda.  It would appear that I need to ease off the self-imposed pressure upon myself.

My mind may be tempestuous, but with a little faith, I know the storm will pass.  (Matthew 8:23-27)  So much to be learnt from this story - despite knowing what has been before having lived and breathed the miracles passed, when the winds roar and the waters rise, what do I do?  I call out to God but in panic rather than in faith.  In truth, I'm not in such a dire position at all, I simply miss my life in Rwanda.

So here's what I did, I Google Earthed* where I used to live:
*A new verb that I decided to create

Kinda cool eh?  What the above image doesn't quite show are the contours of the land - basically, between 'The Stadium' and 'The TTC' there is a deep chasm/valley (rather than what you perhaps thought of as flat fields that you could easily pass through to reach the other side.)  The paths are there for a reason...and 'My house' was at the very edge of a massive drop - which you might be able to see more clearly in the next photos.

Even though I have put countless pictures of my former house on my blog, here are a few more to give you a bit of perspective on exactly how compact my life was...

The Tigo building on the end, closest to my (former) house was my local shop, where Jean-Paul, my friendly neighbour, who often used to give me eggs for free, relocated to after being evicted from the mud-hut house next to mine.  (That house actually looks a lot like my old house but with bigger windows!)

The next photo shows the road to the district office at 5.30am, the day I was due to fly back home.  I was standing in the same place as where I took the photos above, only I turned 180 to have two boys from my neighbourhood hug me goodbye and go on their merry way...I don't know where they were going but it was a long road ahead.

This is basically 'The Centre' - i.e. Cyahinda Centre

The path ahead (veering slightly left) was my route to work each day with 'Mama Kabebe's' (my local friendly watering hole) just to the right of that path, just beyond the electricity pole.

I miss the beauty, the simplicity and the disorganisation of Rwanda living but most all, I miss my community.  Only a few elements from my pre-empted reverse-culture-shock post written a couple of months back ring true now.  Mostly I am in mourning for a life that I wonder if I'll ever taste again.

Hard

It's hard to put into words what I've been feeling since being back.

In essence, I never thought it'd be this hard.

Hard to see what lies ahead
Hard to understand what I actually see in front of me
Hard to let go of what I've left
Hard to know that those that I love and love me worry for me

But...

Yesterday was a revelation.  We sang one of my favourite worship songs last night and it spoke volumes to me:

"From The Inside Out" - Joel Houston

A thousand times I've failed
Still your mercy remains
Should I stumble again
Still I'm caught in your grace
Everlasting, your light will shine when all else fades
Never ending, your glory goes beyond all fame

Your will above all else
My purpose remains
The art of losing myself in bringing you praise
Everlasting, your light will shine when all else fades
Never ending, your glory goes beyond all fame

In my heart, in my soul
I give you control
Consume me from the inside out
Let justice and praise
Become my embrace
To love you from the inside out

Everlasting, your light will shine when all else fades
Never ending, your glory goes beyond all fame
And the cry of my heart is to bring you praise
From the inside out
Lord my soul cries out

"Your will above ALL else, my PURPOSE remains" - I find it hard to get out of bed when I supposedly have no purpose to do so right now...but I know that HE has a purpose for me - I've just got to ASK and SEEK Him.

So surprisingly, the talk that followed was also most pertinent, based on Matthew 7:7-14:

Ask, seek, knock

7 ‘Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. 8 For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.

9 ‘Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? 10 Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? 11 If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! 12 So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.

The narrow and wide gates

13 ‘Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. 14 But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.

These are MY verses - the verses I used at age 17 to share my testimony before my baptism; the verses that have brought me comfort and revealed to me the heart of the 'father's' heart.  It was good to be reminded that if we ask God a question, He will answer - but how he answers won't necessarily meet our expectations.  

So now it's a matter of asking and seeking.  And, not that I'm a parent, but I can only imagine how it must feel for the day when your child no longer seeks guidance from you, they become (or believe themselves to be) independent and self-reliant, struggling to solve situations alone and close their ears to (well-meaning) advice.  (Although this knowledge still doesn't stop me snapping at my mother!)  When it comes to God, there is no need for me to come with my tail between my legs and feel shame at having to ask for help (because I haven't done so for such a long time) - He welcomes me with open arms.

I wasn't looking for any answers, I was just happy to wallow in this 'hard' state for a bit and so as I travelled back from church, I was struck again - by a 'randomly' shuffled song:

"Mountain Of God" - Third Day

Thought that I was all alone
Broken and afraid
But You were there with me
Yes, You were there with me

And I didn't even know
That I had lost my way
But You were there with me
Yes, You were there with me

'Til You opened up my eyes
I never knew
That I couldn't ever make it
Without You

Even though the journey's long
And I know the road is hard
Well, the One who's gone before me
He will help me carry on
After all that I've been through
Now I realize the truth
That I must go through the valley
To stand upon the mountain of God

As I travel on the road
That You have lead me down
You are here with me
Yes, You are here with me
I have need for nothing more
Oh, now that I have found
That You are here with me
Yes, You are here with me

I confess from time to time
I lose my way
But You are always there
To bring me back again

Sometimes I think of where it is I've come from
And the things I've left behind
But of all I've had, what I possessed
Nothing can quite compare
With what's in front of me
With what's in front of me

Last night, I felt like God had knocked me down a few times and more - each time I felt ready to get up, I was struck again.  It wasn't enough to have responded with words of, 'I hear you' - not until I truly heard Him say, 'Here I am' - and for me to echo those words back.

I know that friends and family have been concerned about me of late - but you needn't be.  I'm ok and will be ok...but thank you for your support.  It'll take time for me to 'adjust' but I know that it's His time...so that's ok.

Impact

Living in Rwanda, I constantly questioned the impact that I was having and now, sitting in the airport at Amsterdam waiting for my connecting flight after a 10+ hour flight, I can see what impact I had on people and vice versa.  

My final farewell as you can well imagine, was somewhat teary and bitter-sweet.  The last 48 hours in the village was filled with countless visits, copious amounts of beer and many verbal blessings.  I was overwhelmed by the people who called me, texted me, whatsapped me, visited me to TELL me the impact that I had in their lives and within the community.  Whilst I take much of it with a pinch of salt, I was touched nonetheless by the types of people who seemed to come out of nowhere to thank me for my time in Rwanda - from bus-taxi drivers, sector executives, the quietest of TTC colleagues, shop keepers, children and neighbours.  Despite being such an obvious presence within my village, I often felt anonymous, nameless and unknown.

Back in London (and other countries I've visited/lived in), I've always had the luxury of people KNOWING me - who know my emotions just by looking at me or hearing my ‘hey’, where words are over-rated and sometimes silent prayers spoken over each other is all that is needed.  I missed this immensely in Rwanda - but the last few days have shown me that I had this.

It's not only within the community of Cyahinda that I had this but my VSO friends are amazing too.  London living is/was convenient (although I didn't often appreciate it!) - having a car and being able to see someone in 10mins is sheer luxury - or even being able to jump on a bus at anytime in the day and night, and I hear there are plans for the tube to go 24/7 too?!  But in Rwanda, despite needing to spend hours on end (whether waiting for buses to fill or the actual length of the journey), squashed till your inners are ready to pop out, just to see one-another…we did it.  Most of my friends left for their Easter holiday before I flew back to London and yet on my flight day and still now, I am receiving Whatsapp/Facebook messages and photos to bless my journey.  These are the types of friendships that under normal circumstances may have taken years to nurture and in some instances, may never have even formed...but these haven't been the most conventional 19 months of my life...

And then I cannot forget my friends and family back home.  Cards, letters and care-parcels from all over the world - from Costa Rica and Mexico, USA, Hong Kong, Japan, Australia and of course UK...I have been reminded of God's blessings over and over again - from people I have not spoken to in years on end to my sisters and cousins who sent me regular 'survival packages' - my heart is filled beyond capacity.  Yes, I am getting sentimental and emotional, I think it's the lack of sleep and having been travelling for 24+hrs...

So, I leave you with this (taken from a previous post and expanded upon): even the smallest of pebbles will make ripples, sometimes you don't know how far they stretch but you've made an impact.

Five things...

This post is all about five things that have made a lasting impression upon me here...

5 unforgetable things that have been said to me here:

1. I wanna thank you so much for your contribution of helping me in my studies.  I wanna tell you you’re my role model in my daily activities whenever wherever I am.  I will think about your good behaviours and I will try to imitate them all in my life.  (From a former TTC student – via text…somehow they always get your number!)
2. God must have spent a lot more time creating you.  When I see you smile, I imagine how lovely you are.  (Yes, that was said to me – sick bucket filled…)
3. Am aint to blame for the feeling for you but my heart.  The feeling in me is unseen, untouched but just felt at heart!  I feel it is for you for I look at your eyes and see love in them…(Sorry to the person who sent this to me – but I know that I’m not the only one who received such messages…so this ‘feeling’ wasn’t just for me but hey, good luck with your quest!)
4. May, you have got fat.
5. May, you must be eating a lot of potatoes.

5 people (I’m cheating…more like groups of people) I’ll miss and am forever thankful for:

1. VSO friends (left and remaining) – I won’t name you all for fear of missing out peeps.  A lot of emotions have been shared amongst us and I look forward to all the reunions in the months and years to come! 
   
   
   
   
2. TTC colleagues – for their brutal honesty in the way I look everyday (whether I’m looking fat or ‘smart’, tired or sick…); For their openness in discussing personal issues – sometimes asking too probing questions or giving too much detail about things…and for putting up with me and the demands I had of them in terms of work.  This includes my unpredictable principal whose generosity knows no bounds, Louis – Patron who helped me immensely when I first arrived and Patrice, a tutor who was given the ‘pleasure/privilege’ to line-manage me…but he did a great job and continues to encourage and inspire me with his perseverance and determination to achieve his goals.
   
3. Local shop keepers, bar owners – Mama Kabebe (Christine), Masoporo (J.D), Jean Paul, Nsenga and Emmy – for supplying me with endless amounts of water, eggs, avocados, potatoes, bread, beer, brochettes, toilet paper, fanta…(on the odd occasion for free too!)
4. My night guard, Callixte and umukozi (house help), Gaudence.  Two very patient people who have been loyal and trustworthy and who have kept my house safe and clean.
5. My two buddies in the village – Anatole and Theogene.  Without these two in my life here, I’m not sure I would have stayed.  They stuck by me (and Jacko) through the ups and downs, they were my support and refuge, my joy and laughter – and the reason I now drink beer!  Their love and dedication to their family and those around them took my heart within the first weeks of being here.  They give and serve without question and despite having so little, they know what joy is and are true reflections of the overflow of Christ’s love.
   
   

5 sights that are imprinted in my memory:

1. The domestic animals that roam the streets freely
   
2. The view from my house
   
3. The night sky.
4. Lake Kivu
   
5. The gaggle of children that follow you wherever you go.

5 Kinyarwanda phrases I will not forget:

1. Mwaramutse/Mwiriwe – Good morning/evening
2. Amakuru/Ni meza – How are you?/I’m fine
3. Ndananiwe/Ndashonje – I’m tired/hungry
4. Hara shushye/konje – It’s hot/cold
5. Ndashaka…I want… 

5 sounds that I’ll probably continue to use back in London and be looked at oddly:

1. Eh, eh, eh – “You are kidding me?”
2. Eeeehhhh – “Really?”
3. Eeeeeeeeeeeee– “Yay!”
4. Oya – No
5. Nibabawe – “Wow…seriously?/That’s bad…”

5 habits that will be difficult to break:

1. Duplicating words for emphasis:  ‘no, no’; ‘slowly, slowly’…
2. Raising my eyebrows and widening my eyes to indicate ‘yes’
3. Greeting randoms on the street
4. Shaking hands when greeting people
5. Remembering people have a ‘personal space’ – there are never enough seats here; whether on the bus, in meetings, at meals…you end up either sitting on someone or just very close to them.

It's time to say goodbye.  Five days remain...

Pre-empted Reverse Culture Shock

This post is inspired by my friend Kate who wrote a blog entitled, 'You know you've been in Rwanda a long time when...'  

I thought I'd write a list of some of the quirks that I'll find strange being back in London - many of the things cross over into Kate's list.

So here goes, in no particular order - and apologies on the length of it:

1. A toilet that flushes
2. A seat that is properly fixed and fitted to the toilet
3. Hopefully not having to pee in a bush next to a colleague...(yes, that happened once - we were at a funeral and there was nowhere to go...she just suddenly lifted up her skirt, squatted and indicated I do the same...not in sight of others mind, but hidden behind some bushes...)
4. Water coming out of a tap and more specifically, HOT water coming out of a tap
5. What's a jerry-can?  Storing water?  Whyever would you do that?  Collecting rainwater - who does that?
6. Baths and showers...no more bucket washes!  Wahoo!
7. Walking out of my door and not feeling like a zoo animal/celebrity (there is a fine line!)
8. No 'muzungu, muzungu' cries out of nowhere
9. Having clean feet
10. The absence of 6am sunrises and 6pm sunsets where the sun blazes red and the mist blankets the lush green hills and valleys - of course there'll be sunrises and sunsets but I'll likely be sleeping or still at work...
11. The limited view of stars, planets, constellations...not being able to see the Milky Way even! :(
12. Being faced with a variety and choice of food, flavours and brands - not being restricted to '4 carbs on a plate' type of meal...not a cassava or cooked green banana in sight 
13. Oven, microwave, gas hobs, kettle, toaster, sandwich toaster...at least I can light a charcoal stove now!
14. Having supermarkets, bakeries, clothes shops, shoe shops, make-up counters - endless choice and at any time of the day...consumerism beyond need and even logic...
15. Not having to handwash my clothes - having a washing machine and a dish washer...(also known as 'mother'...)
16. Receiving calls from said-mother at 6pm asking if I'll be home for dinner...or when I'll be home because it is late and a single girl shouldn't be travelling around so late at night alone...I'll forever be 6 years old in her eyes...
17. No longer receiving random calls from strangers that I do not recall giving my number to...I will continue to ignore numbers that are not stored in my contacts...
18. Not being run over/surrounded by a mass of Moto-taxis - can't quite see black cabbies doing that...
19. Having a free hand where once a moto-helmet was surgically attached to it...
20. Giving thanks that waiting an hour for a bus is acceptable because it's far better than waiting for hours on end for it to FILL and be full before it moves 
21. Rush-hour squeeze has nothing on 26 people wedged into a 15-seater bus - or being sat on by the 'convoy'...
22. The sight of people using toothpicks to not only dig out the goat wedged in their teeth but also having a good dig in their ears too...replaced with people simply digging for gold on the tube/bus...(which they also do here in Rwanda but worst of all, they often reach out to shake your hand with the dirty member/s upon seeing you...)
23. Monday night family Skypes will be done IN PERSON!!!  Hello Olive, hello Max :)
24. Being woken by the sound of cars rather than mooing cows and bleating goats
25. "Callixte, uri he?"  Where are you night guard?
26. Walking freely down the street without having to greet EVERYONE that passes me by - ignoring and being ignored, gotta love British culture/conservativeness
27. Where 8am meetings actually start at 8am...
28. Being stuck in traffic - joys!  Driving again = scary but liberating!
29. Buggies and having my ankles bruised by them and men with babies...not a man in sight with a baby strapped to them but women are a-plenty, even during trainings and meetings
30. Mutzig and Primus do not get a look in when cocktails, prosecco and champagne are on offer
31. Simply getting into bed, no faffing around with tucking in the mossie-net...or sleeping in a sleeping bag liner in dodgy guesthouses...
32. Fitted sheets and duvet covers :)

This list could go on - perhaps it'll need a second installment next time - maybe when I've actually moved back to London.  My flight date has been set for the Easter weekend - 4th/5th April...watch this space.

Blink

There are moments in life that if you blink, you'll miss it.  I only wish I could capture those moments or occasions simply by blinking.  For a photo to be taken inconspicuously and instantaneously, forever captured on film and never forgotten.  But perhaps, these moments were never meant to be simply stored within my hard-drive but rather imprinted in my memory...

The child of no more than 3 years old carrying a miniature hoe over his shoulders, trailing behind his mother as they journey to work in the field – *blink* –

The walking trees, or so it would seem when a pair of legs and a bale of forage walks towards you on the dirt road – *blink* –

The apparently lifeless goats and pigs strapped to the backs of pedal-bikes that when at a stand-still bleat and grunt to reassure you that blood still runs – *blink* –

The countless star-filled night skies and upside down half moons – *blink* –

The toothless smile of the old man who talks at me in Kinyarwanda, praying that one day I’ll understand him and respond – *blink* –

The child struggling with a jerry can filled with water that is obviously too heavy for her to carry, yet she does…sometimes on her head, other times with it in one hand and walking like a scarecrow to keep balance – *blink* –

The women in the field, with babies strapped to their backs striking the ground with their hoes in unison as though they are performing some kind of synchronized-cultivating – *blink* –

The girl carrying a single notebook on her head as she walks to school because carrying it by hand is obviously far too easy – *blink* –

The women selling their harvest on straw mats or in wicker-baskets on the ground in the centre…2 avocados for 50f (5p), 3 bananas for 100f (10p), a kilo of sweet potatoes for 200f (20p)…– *blink* –

The men, women and children in their Sunday-best – *blink* –

The food-mountains on plates created by teachers and tutors at lunch during trainings – *blink* –

The pride spread upon a tutor’s face upon being told positive aspects of their lesson because so often, all that is offered are criticisms – *blink* –

That moment when my former neighbour’s children remember my name and shout it repeatedly whilst running excitedly towards me to greet me – *blink* –

The mist that blankets the hills and valleys as the sun rises red in the sky...beauty beyond description – *blink* –

Moments like these will likely haunt me for many years to come calling me to, 'never forget.'  My leave date has not been finalised but it is imminent...

When life imitates nature or nature imitates life

Today I woke to a blanket of mist that wove itself around the trees, hills and valleys that surround my house.  My normally clear and unobstructed view seemed shrouded with uncertainty this morning.  As the day progressed, the cloudless sky was quickly hidden by dark clouds and once again, and apparently all too suddenly, the sun-scorched land became running rivers, lakes and bogs.

I’m sitting in my classroom, with a view of the school playing fields, the Rwandan flag blowing wildly in the wind and the sound of the drumming rain on the aluminium roof, filling the otherwise silent TRC – and here I am with my thoughts.

As I mentioned in my last post, I am starting to prepare for my departure (in about 6 weeks’ time.)  My path before me, once so clear-cut now hidden from me by indecision and confusion.  I’d like to say that the path forks to reveal a multitude of choices, but rather it only seems to be narrowing with each step I take.  My mind is flooded with desired possibilities and various scenarios but nothing is concrete.

My decision to come here to Rwanda in the first place was much like where I am now.  I was so certain that this is what I/God wanted of me, yet my fears and love for my family made the choice hard to swallow.  However being here, as cliché as it may sound has opened my eyes to so much more than I could have imagined – it’s opened doors that I never knew either existed or could have been unlocked for me and has taught me about my strengths and self-imposed limitations/blocks.  My tolerance and patience on so many levels has been tried and tested beyond comprehension.  My love and compassion for people, situations and even my former passions…put under fire and refined.

People here tell me that I will soon forget my life here once I’ve left – and I hope this will not be true…and yet, nature imitates life.  Conditions of weather and human influences affect how a plant/animal grows and develops.  The beauty of adaptation means that nature changes or unfortunately dies with the challenges it faces – I hope that moving back to the developed world will not kill the serenity and respect I’ve found in basic-living but more shape the way I continue to choose to live.  Saying that, I’m sure the first thing that I will do (after all the emotional greetings) will be to have a long soak in a hot bath…and delight in the fact that HOT water comes out of taps – or simply just that WATER comes out of the taps!  I trust that I will not lose sight of the strength that I (we) have in coping with adverse conditions – my path ahead may be foggy or misty but just as with nature, this will not last forever and with any luck, it’ll lift soon enough to allow for a better view ahead.

Powerless but Empowered

"Powerless but empowered"

I had this as my Facebook status today – admittedly not intending to be deep and meaningful it was simply because the electricity was off and I had to cook somehow…but the more I thought about it, the more I realised that there was much truth behind it - this is how I have been living and viewing the lives of those here in Rwanda.

Before coming here, I remember wondering how on earth I would cope with not having electricity or running water – simple luxuries often taken for granted back home.  Yet today, it is something that is pretty normal for me.  Right now, as I type this blogpost, I (and the rest of the village) have no electricity.  It’s ok because it’s still relatively light despite the pelting rain and the dark skies and it’s not yet time for me to cook my dinner.  I do not own a gas oven/stove but I do have an electric-hob – now rendered useless in such conditions.  I pray that the rain will cease soon so that I can at least go out and light a charcoal-fire, something that I’ve become quite an expert at doing since living here.

The rain is literally cascading off my roof, creating a ‘Niagra falls’ type scene outside my window.  It’s also leaking into my bedroom – but that’s another issue in itself.   Windows and doors do not seem to fully fit frames here – there are always huge gaps at the bottom for some reason – and yet even with such a gap, my front door does not fully open because the floor is uneven and at some point, the door is stopped by the floor…

These are minor quirks that I’ve learnt to live with and manage (rice-sacks wedged in the gaps to prevent those pesky flying maggots, frogs, rats/mice and the rain from coming into the house…)

But returning to my opening statement, ‘powerless but empowered’ – this is what life is like here.  People here are constantly complaining about lack of something or other be it food, love or money (funny – people all around the world seem to be chasing the same thing…)  In truth, these people mostly have the right to complain, I complain about leaking doors and windows – these guys may not even have that in their homes…or even a roof over their heads.  Yet behind this sadness, and despite their seemingly ‘helpless’ conditions, there lies a will and a faith that empowers them to keep going.  Many homes have small ‘kitchen gardens’ – plots of land where maize, sorghum, beans are grown…not for selling but personal consumption - a means to survive.  There is a community that I have written about before, of sharing what you have – ALL that you have even if that means your needs/hunger are not fully satisfied yourself.  (Although not always evident amongst TTC staff members who during 'self-service' meals make Kilimanjaro-style food mountains on their plates, leaving little for others who follow them.)  And then there are those who walk for miles and hours on end to visit a friend or family member to check their wellbeing – whilst most people own mobile phones here, it is often the case that (a) they don’t have credit on their phone or (b) they’re not charged because of power cuts.  A moto-taxi may be pocket-change to you and I, but for most here, it is the equivalent to a day, week or even a month’s salary.  Not many own bicycles – and in fairness, you wouldn’t want to cycle around here – these hills would kill you!  And with rain like today’s – I’m not sure a bicycle or moto would help you!

A friend on Facebook asked me what I meant by my status…and whilst I was writing my response in jest, a big part of me believes what I wrote:

“When we lack so-called necessities in life, we are given the opportunity to seek and discover alternatives – sometimes better ways…but we wouldn’t know it if ‘power/s’ weren’t removed – we discover the value of what was lost but also our own strength in coping. “

I wrote this because I was being a wimp that I didn’t have electricity.  Yet people here cope with much worse on a daily basis.  But it’s not just here…I read an article in the Guardian today on ‘Kids Company’, a charity in London who help not only to feed ‘hungry children’ but to provide a platform for them to flourish and know and understand what family love means. 

http://www.theguardian.com/society/2015/feb/15/how-kids-company-feeds-britains-hungry-children

There is need all around, be it in a developing country or on our doorstep within our developed worlds.  Being rendered powerless can empower us to make a difference and change our/others’ situation/s.  We are forced to seek alternative methods to overcome the challenges that block us.

I am currently (loosely) job-seeking and many jobs I have found require either more education or experience than I have.  I feel ‘powerless’ because these are things that will take time (and a lot of money and sacrifices) to gain but I am empowered by the knowledge that God has paved my path before me and that throughout my life, He has supported and guided me – despite MY deviations.  Though a huge fog lies before my path right now and an apparent rocky climb, I need to trust in His will for me that He will (continue to) provide and equip me – even if on paper I do not have the necessary credentials…I must remember, He is the God of the impossible and if it be His will, then I have nothing to fear – I WILL be still, listen and trust.  I may be powerless but that's when God is most powerful.

For parting is such sweet sorrow...

Today is a perfect day for sitting outside, reading, writing and doing things that I generally neglect to do amidst the busy working day.  It’s moments like these that I’ll remember with fondness as I reflect upon my time here.

I am fast approaching the end of my contract in Rwanda and I am filled with a mix of emotions.  Every time I leave a country, a part of me remains there, with it holding a mass of memories – both good and bad and a desire that one-day I’ll return.

This morning I made myself a fresh fruit smoothie consisting of passion fruit, banana, pineapple and locally produced yoghurt.  Last night I made guacamole using 2 avocados that cost me around 2p each and eggs given to me by my neighbour.  Yet more things I will miss about Rwanda – the FRESH, unmodified, often weirdly shaped, CHEAP fruit and veg – sun-ripened and full of nature’s goodness; and the generosity and care of my neighbours. 

In England, it is sad to say that I only know my immediate next-door neighbours, both elderly ladies who delight in short visits from people because they are so few-and-far-between.  On the odd occasion I might greet someone along my street but not to the same degree as that here in Rwanda.  I cannot walk out of my house without my name, or ‘muzungu’ being hollered at me followed by frantic waving and endless smiles and laughter.  My 5 minutes walk to work often takes more than 15 minutes with all the stopping, shaking hands, how are yous, peace and other generalities passed between the community.  To some, I may still be ‘muzungu’, but I am THEIR muzungu, the Cyahinda Muzungu…and if I’m lucky, ‘Mary.’  (The name 'May' still confuses them!)

Last night, I walked home from work in the rain.  It was the fastest and most private journey I’ve had.  Despite feeling warmed by the endless greetings I receive here, the attention can be tiresome.  There are often days where I long for the anonymity and conservativeness of London walking, where I can walk around without being stared at or followed by a gaggle of children – where I am no different to the next Joe Bloggs.  Yesterday, I had just that – the road was deserted due to the rain and it was only until I reached the centre where people were huddled beneath the shelter of the shop roof when the staring begun…although this time, I’m sure they were probably thinking that I was a crazy muzungu to be walking in the rain!  It was somewhat liberating, I was well prepared for the rain – rain mac, wellies, umbrella…if I got wet it was no biggy.  It’s strange how unprepared people here are when it comes to the rain, considering Rwanda has 2 rainy seasons where heavy rainfall occurs for practically 6 months of the year, (if not more,) you’d think people would be used to traveling in it by now.  Although understandably you may not wish to do so as it is the rain that soaks you to the bone within seconds of standing in it…

So I’ve been here for near on 17 months now.  2 more to go.  I extended my contract by one month, as I wanted to stay to at least the end of the school term (at the beginning of April.)  I only feel now that my work is beginning to bear fruit and people are more receptive to the ideas I’ve suggested or even seeking advice for change – it does feel a little too late but I’m sure, no matter how long I stayed, I’d always feel this way – that there is always more to be done.  Yes, I’ve only just scratched the surface but at least the ball is rolling now.  Teachers see a need for change and progression; I just hope a replacement is found for me soon as the project funding runs out in March 2016.  On that note, if anyone is reading this and is interested in volunteering in Rwanda, there are several positions open at the moment with a one-year commitment…check out www.vso.org.uk if you’re interested – truly worthwhile!

So what’s my next move?

In all honesty, I don’t know.  I have an interest in development work in education now and I still love teaching.  I’d love to do an MA in Children’s Literature but the cost of that is way beyond what I can afford right now – so that may have to wait.  It’s slightly depressing to think that I can sponsor someone here to complete their BA for less than a month’s salary back home and yet I can’t even afford to do a term/semester of an MA in England!  Well, I’m sure if God is willing – it will happen.  So my conundrum is the type of job that I should be applying for right now.  I think going back into teaching would be the most logical, after all, that’s what I’m trained to do and love but with the constant curriculum and policy changes, the paperwork and stresses, I just don’t know if that’s what I want to return to.  I know EVERY job has its gripes and strains – I guess anything is possible with God’s strength and guidance…we’ll see, watch this space I suppose.