United Colours of Football

I had never imagined that I would ever write a blogpost on football, let alone the merits of it...but here I am.

With the World Cup drawing to an end this Sunday, there'll be a big hole left in the community here in Cyahinda.  The matches have been something to look forward to with hundreds of students gathered in the refectory watching on the box-television, various randoms watching in the local health centre and others gathered around a radio in the local bar listening intently with beer in hand.  Children play football on the dirt paths with a ball made of banana-plant leaves tied together with twine of some form screaming, 'MESSSSSSSSIIIIIIIIII' as they pelt the ball over their friends head; and then there's the recent trend of christening children as 'Suarez' or 'Robin van Persie' or other favourite football players.  (Yes, you read correctly, CHRISTENED!)  The VSO community (and I am sure most school communities!) came together to support our Dutch colleagues who unfortunately have now left the competition :( (I was dead set on a Brazil Vs Netherland final...how wrong was I?!?!) All-in-all, football plays a big role in this small village and country.  The World cup has truly made the world a smaller place and tightened bonds within communities.

People here LOVE football.  They follow the Premiere League with great anticipation and as vehemently as any follower back home.  Buses, motos and bicycles are often adorned with Chelsea/Arsenal/Man Utd/Liverpool memorabilia.  (*Sorry Wood, Newcastle Utd. is not as hotly supported here...I've seen some shirts around but it's few and far between!  Even the likes of Tottenham rarely get a look in...but that might just be here in the South - Becks, perhaps you may disagree!)

Even I am drawn in by the hype of big competitions like the World Cup and Euro - Premiere League does nothing for me.  It's not so much the game itself, but the people it brings together.  With football, there are no cultural or language barriers; frustrations and joys are easily mirrored across the usual divides.  People meet and unite unexpectedly even if they don't quite understand the game itself, they join to support teams, countries, their friends and colleagues.  (I'm ignoring the fact that even here, there is minor hooliganism...I'm trying to focus on the positives!)

So I end with a phrase I never thought I'd utter:  Football, the World Cup, thank you for bringing the world closer together...

The privilege of being 'white'

I think in every country/language there is a slang word for a non-native person/a foreigner...it mostly sounds derogatory but often is not used with this intention - at least, the naive person in me hopes it's not being misused...

Gai jin = Japanese (foreign/alien person)
Gwai Lo = Cantonese (ghost man)

Mzungu/muzungu = Kinyarwanda, or in other Bantu languages (I'm not sure if there is a direct translation - but 'zungu' refers to spinning on the same spot - i.e. dizziness but the word can also be conjugated to an action of 'behaving richly' - hence the assumption that all foreigners have money!  Another translation I've found means 'one who wonders aimlessly.')

I'm often called muzungu here - children and adults alike call out to me on a daily basis even if they know my name.  Whilst I am not offended by the use of the term, there is a definite stigma and privilege attached to BEING a muzungu.

Skin-colour appears to play a large role in how someone perceives you.  I am speaking VERY generally and loosely now but I have known of many different races feeling inferior to people with 'white' skin.  It happened when I lived in Asia - parents wanted/preferred their child/ren to be taught by a 'white person' over someone with the same skin colour as their own, regardless as to the nationality or qualifications of either teacher.  And here, a training given by a Ugandan/Kenyan volunteer can't apparently be as good as a volunteer who has lighter skin from Europe/America.  The first question my Head Teacher asks whenever a new volunteer is coming is, 'are they white?'

Last week I experienced the ugly privilege of being a muzungu and whilst I accepted it, I felt ROTTEN through it all.

There are certain bus-drivers that know me now and know that I prefer to sit in the front with them than squashed in the back of the bus with 5-6 people on a row made for 3 people.  (The buses in question are 15 seaters...maximum - but regulation here allows for buses to take 19 people.)  On this occasion, I had turned up to the bus park to find that the bus that I needed to take was full.  The bus driver upon seeing me, ushered a person out of their seat and told me to sit there.  I did so thinking the person would be squeezed into another row...only to find that they left the bus completely.  Having driven out of the town, the bus stopped to continue squeezing in more passengers.  Again, I was ushered out of the bus and placed in the front with the driver whilst rows were being filled with 5-6 people.  I felt spoilt - but I did not complain, partly because I didn't know how to protest but also because I just wanted to get home.

I leave you now with a picture of something that does not discriminate by the colour of your skin, the accent that you have, the place you were born...it enters your home regardless and terrorises others...

This is dedicated to Elliott Chow because I know how much you liked the last picture I put of one on my blog...

Something more upbeat

Five things that make me smile and am thankful for…(in no particular order)

1.  My neighbours - the joy on their faces when they see either Jacko or myself everyday is priceless:

(Photo taken by Jacko)

2.  My housemate, Jacko Oosterhof - a person, (if you will recall from earlier posts) I was not keen in receiving (sorry Jacko) - but he has been such a blessing in my life.  A man who has big ears and a massive heart…simply thank you :)  I will be sad to lose you in a couple of weeks time :(

(Taken on Safari)

This is an early photo of Jacko only having arrived for a week or two...

3.  My (our) house, the beautiful scenery I am surrounded by and the amazing sunrises/sunsets and stars that I see each day…

4.  My crazy VSO family - words cannot express how much joy these people have brought me over the last few months…

 

These were taken in our first days here in Rwanda - some have sadly left Rwanda and many more have joined...

Friends who dress up on special occasions:  Mike's bday…rice sack party

Friends to share food with :)

Especially on holiday :) - Zinger Tower Burgers at 6am!  :)

Friends I make resources with

Friends I've journeyed together with from London trainings!  (Bon Voyage Claire…see you back in London town!)

Friends who invade a small village :) (More importantly, friends who travel for hours and brave coming out to visit us out in the sticks…)

Friends to go to the cinema with - a rare luxury when in the capital city, Kigali.

Friends to do cultural things with…like going to art galleries :) - again in Kigali...

Friends to simply be silly with

Friends to go rainforest trekking with :) - Miss you already Steph

And finally, friends who holiday together

5.  Lastly, my colleagues and local friends (There are many more male colleagues than female ones…) - they cause the extremities of emotions within me, but that's when I know I care...

There are many more things/people that make me smile everyday…life isn't all that bad here :)

I'll finish with the prayer (with minor additions) that we used to say at school before lunch…

For good friends, (new days, days ending, beautiful sights) and good food, we/I thank you LORD, 

Amen.

Lost in translation

'I'm fine thank you,' is a response that I get with most things here.

Me:  Hi

Random child/colleague/student/neighbour:  I'm fine

Even before I've opened my mouth, often I am met with, 'I'm fine thank you and you?'

But to be fair, this was also the standard response to my questions when I lived in Japan…and come to think of it, this is what I'm ALWAYS asked by any passerby here: 'amakuru' (How are you?) - and the standard response is - 'ni meza, ayanyu?' - I'm fine and you?

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I lost all motivation to learn Kinyarwanda a while ago, possibly since the start of this year!  But I find that without it - life is somewhat complicated.  I still have lessons now and again, but not as frequently as I'd like.  However, I have mastered simple phrases of, 'I want…'  (One common one - 'ndashaka mutzig gatoya/petit, ikonje' - I want a small Mutzig, cold - Mutzig being one of the locally sold beers here.)  A key phrase, no doubt - but I can never get 'deep' into conversations here - and that's what I miss.

Whilst language is a limitation/barrier, culturally, people do not tend to speak about their emotions here.  'Ihangane' - 'be patient' is the answer to anybodies' woes, whether someone has faced sickness, loss of any form, anger towards another, stress at work…the response is always, 'ihangane' and then a beer is placed in your hands.  No-one wants to hear the nitty gritty details, the thousand thoughts that whizz through your mind…And yet when I am told this, my blood only boils and a tirade of words are screamed (whether internally or externally).  I find no comfort in this term - but maybe I've just lost the meaning in translation.

I guess the equivalent in English is, 'I'm sorry.'  Afterall, what comfort do the words, 'I'm sorry' bring when you've lost something/one?  What difference does it make when I've had a bad day at work and someone utters the words, 'I'm sorry' to me?  Maybe it's what I'm used to, perhaps it's my understanding of the culture/context in which they are uttered - but actually, those two (technically 3) words DO make me feel better.

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Today there was a snake lying dead in the Centre, its head mangled and deformed - possibly from being run over by a moto.  I was trying to tell my helper, Gaudence today about it and used the word 'inzoga' instead of 'inzoka' - she looked at me strangely.  Why was I asking her if she'd seen the BEER in the centre?  (This post seems to have a running beer theme!?!)…my intention of course was to say 'inzoka' - snake but I often get things mixed up here:

Inama = meeting
Inyama = meat
Intama = sheep (/nt/ has an aspirated sound - more like 'h')
Imana = God

So this is my life, forever lost in the translation of words, actions and culture.

CHANGE

What is change?  Why change?  Is change synonymous with development?  How do you know when someone is ready for change?  Can you move without change?  Am I here to change (myself/others/both?)  

“You are here to make changes, but these people are not ready for change.” 

This was a statement that my deputy head made to me last week.  It caused the cascade of questions above.  I came here hoping to provide options for change but found that when I’m asked ‘why should I change my practice?’ I only leave people with a sense of resentment.  I never use the words, ‘I know better’ – but that’s all any reason I give sounds like.  In fact, I don’t know better – I have my experiences and I can share those but to people here, they are far removed from their own situations because I am a privileged ‘white’ person.  The opportunities and support given to people back in UK are a privilege and they simply do not exist here.

This term, I have been training tutors and students on providing an inclusive education for learners with disabilities and impairments.  Back home, if I have concerns about students, I can refer them to a Special Educational Needs Coordinator – but such a person does not exist here.  There is no government support for statemented children – in fact, ‘statements’ don’t even exist.  And so the question I am always faced with – ‘How can we make changes if we have no means to do so?’ simply leaves me without an answer.

My deputy was right – whilst there is a NEED for change, people’s attitudes must be ready to receive and be changed.  The pursuit for money is the main stumbling block here - most believe that with money all is possible and it's often difficult to argue against this.      Whilst money CAN help in the process of change, it's HOW the money is used/distributed that makes the difference - and so often change is superficial here, getting to the heart of a situation is something harder to reach/access.  Change starts with a desire and motivation - no matter how much money is thrown at someone, if at the heart of someone they see no need for movement, then little will change.

Maybe there is HOPE…my deputy continued to state:

“You (and Jacko) have made us change.  You have made a difference here at the TTC.  I can see it.” 

– sometimes I wish I could...

Chance to move

Hanging, swaying

Any which way

Notions of difference

Giving up what has been

Ever mindful of consequences

The (dis)Illusion of a Volunteer

I have come to realise that I am not alone – and yet this does not bring me comfort as one would expect.  Perhaps the thought that others are in this same state of mind or experiencing the same frustrations as I am just makes me feel all the more helpless.

And yet there are glimmers of sunshine, rays of hope and a gentle whispering of something different in the air.

It is two weeks since my impromptu break down speech and little has changed but there has been some…and some or rather, a little is better than none.  A colleague reminded me that I am not here to change the world.  At the end of my time here, if ONE person has changed just ONE element of their work because of my time and efforts invested in them, then I have made a dent – and that should be enough.  This brought me little encouragement but then he did also add that my presence here impacts lives beyond my ‘work:’ 

Just greeting someone in the morning with a ‘mwaramutse, amakuru, n’amahoro’ – ‘goodmorning, how are you, do you have peace?’ can bring a sense of belonging/being to someone who is otherwise anonymous or ignored.

Listening to a student share their thoughts gives a voice to someone who in a sea of 800 others is often unheard.

Interacting with the street kids shows people that ‘muzungus’ are human and not so different to them (although I am sure that I will always BE ‘different’ even if people know that I am not…) and finally;

My mere presence raises a mass of questions, whether on the streets or even within my workplace…and making people think is not a bad thing.

I often wake and wonder why I am here – a common thought amongst volunteers.  I sometimes feel like I sacrificed much for not knowing my exact purpose here.   There is much that I miss and long for – and yet, my comfort lies in knowing that in some way, all those people and all those situations will always be part of me, no matter where I am.  I have dents all over me made by people and situations over the years - and each one has shaped me into who I am today.

I have learnt much (about ME) here and have grown to be thankful for much also.  It’s such a cliché when people speak of moving abroad and ‘finding themselves’ – I’ve always known who I am and yes, with each new place I live in, I DO discover a little more about what I can/can’t handle but most of all, I don’t find myself but GOD always finds me.  He shows me how and how much He loves me (and others) and who He has designed me to be.  I am not here to change the world but to simply BE and perhaps, through my being, people around me will SEE God and be moved into action.  For now, I am content in simply BEING here, knowing that my work is not what defines me or has the most impact but my mere presence is stirring something, even if the changes are small - there IS change!  I continue to receive dents whilst here, some larger than others, but that's from those who are also simply BEING.   As cliché as my parting line may be – there is a simple truth to be found in it – 

God made us human BEings not human DOings.  

Super LONG rant - reason for tears

Today was the end of a LONG and GRUELLING 10 days of training. 

The training was funded by UNICEF with the tag-line: ‘Training teacher-trainers who train teachers to teach…”

I was one of three trainers – or ‘facilitators.’

Background facts:

• The course took place during the Easter holidays – so effectively, the tutors of the TTC only had 1 week out of a 3 week holiday.  (Tough when this is the first holiday/break since term began in January.)
• The tutors were PAID 5000Rwf/day (equates to £5/day) to attend the course, board & meals included.
• The UNICEF facilitators were also paid (undisclosed amount) but as a VSO volunteer – I was not as it is expected that we work during school holidays anyway; any leave must be requested and approved beforehand.
• 12 days of course content was covered in 10 days with participants and facilitators having to work on Good Friday and Easter Monday.

I was fighting a losing battle from the start.  The participants were only there because of the ‘motivation’ of the little money being offered to them.  The training was designed for teachers – but because of the monetary incentive, all manner of staff members crawled out of the woodworks to sign their name on the register daily to claim their remuneration.  It was not fair.

The training was entitled, ‘Active Learning and Life Skills for Teacher Trainers in Rwanda.’

The content was GOOD, it was relevant and NEEDED but unfortunately, like with all things here – there was too much to cover in a short period of time.  To put it into perspective, my contract here is for 2 years (although I have only agreed to do 18months with the prospect of extending…) – what I have been assigned to do is to work with the tutors of the TTC to develop their practice in basically EVERYTHING within that course.  I have been here for 8 months now (wow!?) and I have only just scratched the surface and am still working on concepts that were covered in 2 days within this training.  There was a LOT to cover!  

Today found me reduced to tears in front of the participants.

Training was due to start everyday at 7 am – if you know me, I am NOT a morning person.  Participants would show up anytime between 7.30 – 9:00.  At 7am on the dot, there were maybe 3 out of the 33 registered…these were the most active of participants – they were the keen beans but the ones who made my role worthwhile because they WANTED TO BE THERE.

All others who turned up late would be the first to stand-up at 10:00/12:30/15:00 when there was a break to leave even when someone was speaking at the front of the class; they were the last to return from the 20 minute break times (returning 30-40mins later) and yet they were the first to complain that they did not have enough time to do the activities.

I am not a huge fan of teacher-trainings myself…INSET days are things I dread – repeating the same course/tasks over-and-over-again, being told that there is yet MORE that needs to be done as a teacher (i.e. what we do already is not and never will be enough!)  BUT…when needs must, one rises above all of this, accepts and tries to make the most out of every situation.  There is always room for improvement and learning to be had, so if one is given the opportunity for ‘continual professional development’ – it is taken and done so with hopefully an open mind.  But not here.

Today I cried unexpectedly.  It was coming up to 10am, time for tea but I wanted another group to present their work to end the session.  Whilst the presenter spoke, as per usual, some participants listened carefully, others talked amongst themselves and yet others walked in and out of the classroom on their mobile phones.  Something snapped in me and I stopped the presentation, apologized to the presenter and as I uttered the words, ‘do you know how disrespectful you all are?’ – the tears began to flow.  10 days, 100 hours had taken its toll on me.

As I cried in front of my participants, my colleagues and some of my friends – no one came to comfort me, they just fell silent and stared.

I managed to pull myself together to lecture them on human decency:

“This is your colleague here, show some respect!  Yes, you are tired, yes, it’s nearly break time and you want your tea – but the tea will still be there in 10 minutes – they’re in thermos flasks so it will still be hot!  YOU have all worked for over an hour to prepare these presentations and if you don’t listen to your colleagues, that one hour and this time now is wasted.  What is the point in you being here?  What will you have learnt other than to complain about it being break time?  You’re not only disrespecting your colleague but ME and the other facilitators.  *more tears*  You don’t think we’re tired?  You think we want to be here in OUR holiday?  You think we haven’t been working as hard as you?  Am I being paid to do this?  You’re getting 5000f/day – I’m not.  And don’t tell me it’s because I’m rich…this is my JOB.  We, the facilitators have been here everyday just before 7am and at least till 6pm when you have gone…why have we bothered if you don’t want to learn?

You’ve asked for training and we’re giving it to you, what you wrote down in your expectations – how can they be met if you aren’t willing to learn, to participate?  What is the point in any of us being here?  I know you’d rather be somewhere else – but you’re here and you have to be here – so deal with it.  It’s the last day and maybe it’s too late me saying this now – but why are you wasting your time, my time, your colleagues’ time with your frankly, childish attitude?  Yes, you are teachers, some of you have degrees, some of you already KNOW what is being discussed – but does that mean there is no room for development?  Are you APPLYING what you know?  Your attitude and participation here tells me not.  How can you teach about respect for others when you don’t even respect each other, your colleagues? 

You have all spent an hour preparing this work – for what?  To present to people who aren’t listening?  How does that make the presenter feel?  What was the point in you working and wasting MY resources?

What model can YOU be if you do not practice what you preach?  How can you teach about collaboration and other life skills when you are showing up late to sessions, complaining about minor things beyond MY control and in the grand scheme of things – DON’T MATTER!  It’s not just unfair on the facilitators but those who WANT to learn.  There are people here who have shown up ON TIME, they’ve asked questions and been disrupted by others who talk, they’ve got the same complaints as you – but they understand that there is SOMETHING to be learnt and something is better than nothing.  They want change.  They know that change takes time and effort…and so they're making the best out of their time here.  Thank you to those people.  

UNICEF are putting a lot of money into this training and you may not think it has anything to do with you – but you’re wrong.  They’re investing in YOU – they want to develop YOU because you have the responsibility to train the future generation, the future parents, the future communities, the future leaders – and that is a responsibility that you chose to do when you took on your job.  So how can you be effective in this when you aren’t willing to change habits that we, as a group have identified as being damaging to individuals and society?

I know what happens in a classroom as a teacher, I am a teacher, I have sat in your seats and continue to do so, you have been behaving like your students – but YOU ARE NOT CHILDREN!  YOU KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A HUMAN BEING – so show some respect!” 

Rant over.

This was the first time that I had the full attention of everyone in the room. 

This was the first time there was silence to be had amongst the teachers.

This was the first time that I’d verbalized what I’ve been thinking since I arrived here.

We then went for tea.  There was no use in continuing.  Nobody followed me as I left the room, only the other facilitators.  It took at least another 20 minutes before the participants did join, I didn’t know if they were embarrassed by their behaviour or in fact, embarrassed for me because I’d cried.  But whatever the case, when we returned from break, I had everyone’s undivided attention.  No verbal apologies were given to me but I could see that I had struck a nerve.

This is a sweeping statement, but the ‘aid-giving culture’ has nurtured an (unknowingly) damaging sense of dependency and expectancy here.  Please note, this is not the attitude of ALL people in Rwanda  - nor am I trying to undermine the work of aid workers and those who work for NGOs (after all, I am a volunteer for one of those NGOs.)  Yet, so often have I met people, some very educated people here who simply expect handouts.  Handouts come in many guises – money, materials/resources, food, drink (usually beer) and even answers to problems/questions.  There is no sense of taking responsibility for one’s own problems but instead one is always the victim.  The first thought is not, ‘What have I done that has led me here?’ or ‘What can I do to solve this problem?’ but ‘why has God forsaken me?’ or ‘I do not have any food, I will just go hungry, somebody give me food.’

Why else am I asked on a near daily basis, ‘give me money’ or told, ‘I am hungry’ if someone before me has not come and done exactly that?  How are young children taught that all ‘muzungus’ have money so ask them for it?  Surely it has happened in the past that money/food/pens/sweets were given for there to be an expectation that every muzungu will do the same?

But the way aid is given now has changed – skills are taught/shared for people to farm, to family plan, to promote health and wellbeing and whilst people here happily receive NGOs with open arms and smiles, at the crux of it all – all they want is money and to be taken out of the situation with little or no input on their behalf.  Again, I reiterate, this is NOT everyone and perhaps I am over generalising because I have also met the ‘success stories’ from recipients of aid – those who were granted the opportunity to have an education and even study abroad, who have returned to make a difference within their community; those whose mindsets have expanded to empathise with others and see beyond their growling stomachs; some who have been given the tools and knowledge to farm effectively and are able to feed their family, make a living and provide employment for others; and I have seen the joy in a child who has received a pack of pencils and a notebook, carrying them around as though they are their most prized possessions and showing me their markings, inviting me to draw with them.  Simple joys and reminders that I am not here in vain even if these last ten days have felt otherwise.

I hope that this blogpost does not stop you from donating to 'worthy causes' - people here are (usually) grateful for what they receive and in the end, giving something is better than nothing.  How aid is given/distributed is often beyond our control…but I guess that's why I am here…so I am responsible for the 'aid' I give - the impact that I have out here may be like a pebble dropped into the ocean but as an organisation, as nearly 90 volunteers in Rwanda, when dropped together - the ripples are far reaching.