Happy Thanksgiving! ...and pass the chicken

It's Thanksgiving once again, the Ultimate American Holiday - A time for Family, Football and Food! 

Here in Kigali (Rwanda), Thanksgiving took on a slightly different meaning, or at least within our group. In honor of our American connections, we were given a long weekend with two days off of school. However, the rest of the life continued with on with the majority of our host nation completely unaware of the significance of this traditional Thursday. 

This year Thanksgiving basically meant two things: 

1) CHICKEN!!! 

A rarity in Rwanda, Turkeys are nearly unheard of and those few that do exist make a poor Thanksgiving feast.  Thus this year our protein was supplied by poultry of a different feather, cousin of the turkey, the Chicken! An imported expense, chicken has also made only selected appearances on our table during these two months in Rwanda, so to have a whole piece of chicken to oneself was quite a treat. 

2) TREE OUTFIT DAY!

Beginning a new group Thanksgiving tradition of our own we instituted Tree Outfit Day. Never heard of Tree Outfit Day you say? Allow me to elaborate: Tree Outfit Day is a day when everyone present is supposed to dress in a tree like fashion. Essentially, green on top, brown on bottom.  And, what does a whole forest of trees do once they are up and walking about, why take countless of randomly over-posed photos, Of Course!  Thus was tree outfit day - a day of Green fun that helped us all to feel a little more festive in this time away from our traditional family and friends. 

Dinner did not disappoint (even though many of us are looking forward to actually having turkey again next year)

and I think nearly all walked away with that overstuffed feeling.  Dessert was scrumcious with apple desserts galore - our pumpkin pie filling was confiscated by the TSA at the airport, apparently Thanksgiving goodness is a security risk of National importance! 

All in all it was a wonderful day, beautifully rounded out with phone calls home helping to shrink the distance.  

An of course the always awkward holiday "family" photo

An Organized Response

As violence has flared up once again in the DR Congo, Food for the Hungry International (FHI) and numerous other NGO's have sent assessment teams into Goma to determine what the proper course of action should be in the face of extreme tension, violence and need. 

Here is the latest report issued by FHI

November 2008
Fighting in the Democratic Republic of Congo

"After decades of war, the Congolese experienced a period of relative peace until fighting erupted between rebel soldiers and government forces in the eastern province of North Kivu in late October. A UN-brokered cease-fire held for a week before falling apart, leading to an escalation in violence and the displacement of at least 250,000 people. The province was already home to numerous camps housing as many as 1 million displaced people. Living conditions within the crowded camps are marked by lack of sanitation and food with an increasing threat of disease.

Food for the Hungry has been operational in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) since early 1995, in response to the Rwandan refugee crisis. Current work in the DRC focuses primarily on food security vulnerabilities, providing seeds, tools and seed protection packets, and developing fish ponds. Food for the Hungry also undertakes road rehabilitation, water and sanitation and health projects. However, the conflict has caused our programs in Minova, a region on the border between North Kivu and South Kivu to be placed on hold due to the security situation.

Staff members continue to monitor the situation and a team from Food for the Hungry's relief unit is currently conducting an assessment to determine the necessary response. In addition, Food for the Hungry staff members in neighboring Uganda are conducting an assessment to assist Congolese refugees who have fled to Uganda.

Please pray for wisdom as Food for the Hungry workers decide how to respond to the current situation. Pray also for an end to the fighting and for the Congolese people who have already suffered from years of conflict. "

Talking Myself Into Trouble

Embracing the culture and seeking to thrive rather than simply survive,

I have reached that troubling point in learning language where I now know just enough to get me into trouble and not enough to get me back out! 

Working in the community of Cyeza each afternoon conducting interviews for our community development assessment, I have had ample opportunities to improve my limited kinyarwanda. Walking from the bumpy, dusty dirt road, about twenty minutes down one hill and up another to our assigned cell, I pass the time by talking to every person I met along the path. Over the past week I have become a pro at the greetings and basic responses. Our interpreter has found great joy in teasing me over this fact and even stated that the people are going to start calling me "amakuru" (how are you) because I say it to everyone. 

However, on our last walk out of Cyeza I found myself in a bit of a situation. Walking through a group of people resting on the hillside I greeted them and asked the very few questions I knew. This sparked great excitement and delight from them all and caused one woman to even jump up, embrace me with joy and then rattle off a list of questions of her own.  Catching maybe one of the hundred words she managed to spew forth I was overwhelmed and helpless. Resorting to English, I informed her that I did not understand and then made my way onwards, apologizing with what little French I knew, hoping she understood and did not mistake my silence for rudeness. Walking away, I wished that my communication skills were more advanced. 

This seems to be a common problem that I have now encountered in nearly every country I have lived in during this trip. Oh to be a walking talking language book - maybe one day!  

*Photos in this blog by Roshanda Cummings

Surrendering to the Sunrise

After a restless nights sleep for the second day in a row, waking up this morning the last thing I wanted to do was to hit the pavement for a run. However, as I talked myself off my army green coat and out from beneath the sheets I decided that I would be able to sleep better the rest of the morning if I just spent a few minutes up and about. Walking out into the main room of the office I was taken about by two things: 1) an abundance of 3 inch flying bugs that sounded like little airplanes dying (making it nearly impossible to sit at my computer by the table) and 2) the magnificent colors of the sunrise as morning was just arising. The pull of the beauty of the earth was just enough to win over my body's desire to retreat back to bed and before I knew it I was inching my way across the ridges that line the horizon of Rwanda.  

A beautiful way to began what looks to be a very productive and fulfilling Friday.

COMERA!!!

COMERA! - the small child shouted at our packed to capacity white land rover as we bounced down the bumpy dirt road and rounded yet another corner on our way to slightly removed community of Cyeza. 

"Be Strong." Our interpreter Paul offered up in explanation of the child's exclamation.  

Be Strong. Comera. As these words reverberated through my wandering mind lectures from last weeks classes came fluttering back. Comera, as was previously defined for us, means to pull someone up from the ground; in essence, to have strength and continue on. 

Comera. Be Strong. How fitting those words are on a day when all I feel is tired, weak and lonely. After five and a half months of being away from friends, family and the familiar, I am homesick. Yes, I admitted it. While there have been other moments throughout this journey where I have missed elements of home, today has certainly been the most intense.  Waking up more exhausted then when I laid down to sleep, the whole day seemed to be off to a rough start.  While nothing extraordinarily bad happened it was simply a long, rough and emotional day.  By mid-morning all I wanted was to go home, workout, eat stir-fry, drink a smoothie and FINALLY feel healthy again.  

Reflecting on my emotions of the day, I have begun to realize more than anything that I miss being and feeling healthy.  Living in a glorified summer camp setting for the past several months has been fun and highly entertaining, but I have no control over my schedule, the food that is served or how it is prepared.  I long to be independent once again.  Living in an apartment, walking to the fruit and vegetable stand daily, savoring the reward of eating a meal prepared by my own two hands.  It truly is the simple parts of life that make it all worth while. 

Today's discoveries:

- distance is hard to overcome

- love is not easy

- uncertainty is frustrating

- life will go on

8 Days in Gitarama

For the next 8 days our team will be living and working out of the FHI Office based in the neighboring city of Gitarama, conducting development research in the community of Cyeza.

So, where IS Gitarama?
"Gitarama is the second-largest city in Rwanda, with a population of 84,669 (2002 census estimate). Although a part of the Southern Province, it is situated in the centre of the country, to the west of the capital, Kigali [about one hour away]. It is the capital of the district of Muhanga." - Wikipedia

Beginning in Irony

French Toast for breakfast. 

Innocent in itself. 

Ironic in its appearance. 

Today, of all days, we are served the tasty delight of French toast. 

Today is a National Day Of Protest against Germany and France our Rwandan cook decided to serve us french toast for breakfast. Sitting down I couldn't help but smile at the timing of it all.  

In a sign of solidarity for their comrade in Germany who is still being detained by the government on an International arrest warrant issued by a judge in France, the Government issued a country wide day of protest. 

Not permitted to venture outside during this time, our leader Aryn stated "The students have the morning free." An FH employee then chimed in, "and by free you mean, in Prison!"

National Day of Protest

Arriving in the city of Gitarama this afternoon, one hours drive from Kigali, the first news we heard as we were walking down the dirt back road to the FHI office, was that tomorrow was declared a holiday.  Upon further discussion, this statement was revised to be that we as foreigners had a day off, because the government of Rwanda had just declared Wednesday, November 19th as a day of Protest.  

On Monday, November 9th, Rwandan President Kagame's chief of protocol Rose Kabuye was arrested on arrival at the Frankfurt airport. Detained for a 2006 international warrant issued by French anti-terrorism judge Jean-Louis Bruguiere, Kabuye found her self facing charges for alleged involvement in the shooting down of then President Juvenal Habyarimana's plane in April of 1994, the act which officially started the genocide in Rwanda.  In response, Rwanda expelled the country's German Envoy and removed their own Ambassador from Germany on November 11th until the matter is resolved. 

Since that time, numerous protests have been staged in Kigali and throughout the country as a national tensions with France have intensified.  Following the arrest, Germany has also been added to the list of countries falling out of Rwanda's grace.  Yet, with the recent election of Barak Obama, it is actually better to be an American in East Africa than a European.  Who would have thought?!?

So what does all this mean for us? Basically our program is continuing to keep us under house arrest (they call it staying inside) while the demonstrations are going on.  Something about safety and what not, as the majority of people cannot distinguish Americans from Europeans, in one huge generalization, we are all MZUNGU (white people). My sarcastic solution to that is that we all wear American flag shirts and Obama pins to clearly identify our nationality and solidarity with our host nation.

Saturday Afternoon

Having survived another week of classes and a most unwelcome Saturday morning session, Becca and I decided it was time for a celebration.

Lunch at Bourbon (comparable to Starbucks with a full food menu as well) and then of scoop of rich flavorful ice cream in a warm waffle cone - delish!

Beautiful Tension

Walking home for lunch between classes today I rather unexpectedly found myself in a very contemplative mood.  However, the overwhelming exhaustion that has been growing for days finally felt larger than life and sitting down on the couch all I wanted to do was be. Sliding a dvd of Friends into my computer (our newest thing here - no idea how that started) I prepared to just tune out every thought for 20 minutes.  Yet I did not even make it to the intro...

Joined by a friend we unexpectedly began talking and one question from here prompted a rather disjointed explanation of the different pieces of my life I am currently sorting through.  Graciously listening as my words tumbled out in spurts and stops, she responded with a lovely description of me; of what is going on in my life and the process of working through it all. As though her words afforded me the opportunity to breathe, to view my own life through her eyes... beyond wonderful.  I was particularly struck by one comment she made, that of living in beautiful tension.

Beautiful Tension

When I hear the word tension the last thought to enter my mind is anything of beauty, yet as I pondered her words and description I realized what a fantastic coupling these words form. Straddling countries, my concept of home is being reformed and reshaped. 

Building new relationships while maintaining old. 

Struggling with the knowledge that I am missing out on key events in friends lives. 

Regretting not being around for those in need. Looking forward to new adventures in distant lands. 

Excited for the opportunity to help even more children and interact with new cultures. Wondering if the work I am engaging in is truly greater than the unintentional consequences formed from it. 

Realizing that I am in a situation without any control.

Trusting that God will work everything out for His purposes. 

Living in Beautiful Tension. Standing in the middle of a web of people, places and events, learning what it means to find balance and joy even when life is not as simple as I wish it to be. 

A Perfect Description Of Where I Find Myself Today

And I Would Not Choose To Have It Any Other Way

Protesting in Kigali

Let me begin by saying that I am completely fine, safe and well looked after. The Go-Ed program and FHI staff are monitoring the entire situation closely and we are all taking the necessary precautions.

Now that my disclaimer is over, I am sure you are all wondering what on earth I am talking about. As most of you are probably not aware, the Rwandan Protocol Chief, Rose Kabuye, was arrested in Germany on a French warrant in an alledged connection to the shooting down of former President Juvenal Habyarimana's plane, the event which triggered the 100 day genocide in Rwanda killing 1 million people.

The Rwandan Government already has strained ties with the French Government, on whom they place a good deal of blame for their actions and inactions in Rwanda leading up to and during the atrocities. Tensions are now high again between the Government of Rwanda and the Governments of France and Germany.  The Rwandan Government recently expelled the German envoy from the country and protests have become a daily afternoon occurrence in the heart of Kigali. 

All is remaining peaceful at this time, but tempers are short and questions are high

Please keep us all in your thoughts and prayers

A Forgotten Crisis

While America's eyes have all been concerned about Palin's wardrobe, Obama's celebrity appeal and other hot topics like 9 million dollar poker winner's (Yahoo's current story of choice) an entire continent goes unnoticed.

Africa. Most commonly addressed as though it were one unified nation, Africa indeed is a diverse mix of cultures, languages, religions, conflicts and more. Living over in the relatively stable region of East Africa we have very keenly become aware of the continuing crisis ravaging our neighbors to the west in the DR Congo.

Being confronted with the realities of the atrocities occurring in the country a few weeks ago in Uganda, they now seem to hit even closer to home as just across the lake hundreds of thousands are engaged in a fight for survival.  When did this all begin? This is news to me?  The conflict in DR Congo has been running in spurts for years. As the '94 genocide in Rwanda came to a close, the last remaining rebels were pushed out of the country and into the Congo stirring up ethnic rivalries a new. Since that time war has been in full swing.  

Over the past several years more than one million people have been displaced. In recent days, another 250,000 people have been forced from their homes as violence erupts once more on the Eastern side of the country. As fears of another humanitarian crisis loom, food, water and safety are all of top priority. 

Thousands have fled into neighboring Uganda, crossing the border just days after us. 

Goma is now the setting for shaky peace deals, momentary security and a humanitarian corridor. 

BBC has the best up to date reporting on the situation and more of its history.  

The Best Show In Town

Pulling up to the shore after our peaceful trip out to and around some of the islands on Lake Kivu, we looked up at the multiple tiered balcony of our hotel and were met by the gaze of three floors filled with men. Apparently a big football (soccer) match was on this evening and our resting place was the hot spot in town. Being tracked all the way from the beach up the varying levels of stairs and even on to our balcony, thankfully the highest level of them all, we quickly became the best show in town. 

Today I am simply done with being a spectacle and wish I could just blend in.

Lake Kivu

Escaping the city for a long weekend, we headed out to Lake Kivu on Rwandan's Eastern Border

Here are a few of the sights we took in:

"the view from our balcony"

"evening sky"

"disappearing sun"

"hard at work Saturday morning"

"drifting"

"Sunday morning sunrise"

10 in the Bed and the Little One Said...

...let's add 3 more!


On our recent weekend getaway, our group spent a night in Butare at a guest house where we were placed in huge rooms with two large beds. Not wanting to be so far apart, Sarah and I rearranged our room and this is what transpired next.

Despite the fact that we have grown together as a family over these past few weeks, we did not end up sleeping like this even though it was a Fantastic photo op!

"A Skinny Boy With A Funny Name"

Yes, as most of America cast their ballots on this historic day and the tallies began to roll in I was sleeping half a world away.

Fast Forward to Wednesday morning which seemed to come ever earlier than expected and the clamor from outside my window told it all... the election results were in. Now to find out who won or at least was leading in the pools.

When asked by my children years from now as they have to complete their reports on historical elections where I was when the announcement was made I will have the pleasure to say Kigali, Rwanda. Finding out first through a declaration on a yahoo banner, having it confirmed by Facebook status updates (where I also learned about McCain's concession speech) and finally making my way over to join the others in the living room to watch BBC's continuous coverage of the election results. Cheering, crying, a world at attention and an answer given.

7am - Breakfast time.
With bowls of cereal and tired eyes we watched as all eyes turned to Chicago State (as someone referred to it here) and out walked the next First family. "How American." How Classically True. President-elect Obama took the stage and his commanding presence consumed the stage. Delivering a gloriously crafted speech he spoke to the world, even throwing out props to those "gathered in the forgotten corners of the world huddled around radios," its nice to know we were let out.

Going through the heat of the election in selected areas throughout the world and continent of Africa has been rather interesting. Continuously accosted with conversations of American politics I have been systemically "voting" in the elections since early June when I was first met with an abrupt shout on the street, "You're voting for Obama, right?" As if a question like that really provides you an opportunity to say otherwise. On rare occasions the question is flipped, but always as assuredly stated. It seems that nearly everyone is passionate about the US elections, but could that ever be said about American's in regard to foreign affairs? Traveling around, I am ashamed to say I have encountered hordes of people who will never step foot on American soil, but who know more about American policy than most citizens ever will.

"Change has come back to America"

I admittedly have become a growing cynic throughout these elections wishing more for them purely to end than any particular desired outcome. Perhaps that makes me un-American. Perhaps that makes me lazy. Perhaps it speaks most for my growing disgust at the system, the mud slinging, the money wasting and the great divide.

Either way, the votes have been cast, a verdict rendered, parties celebrated... and now we wait

We wait to see if Change will truly come
We wait to see if Tomorrow will be a better day
We wait to see the impact of our Decisions
We wait

and... I wonder
I wonder if Africa will have found their Savior that they have been clamoring for
I wonder if the World will come together or stand further apart
I wonder if America can heal from their partisan divides
I wonder if the woman on the street in south LA will still go unfeed
I wonder if the man on his knees in grief will ever reclaim the house and the job and the security his family lost 6 months ago
I wonder if the child just brought in to the States will ever be freed from the life of sexual slavery she was just traded into
I wonder if Change will truly come
I wonder if one Man could bring it all or if it is really up to the American people to take a stand, seek change and actively transform this country and one day the world.

I wonder if after the honeymoon is over if people will continue to fight so diligently for justice, or if we will all simply return to drinking our doubletalltwopumpwhitechocolateamericanoswithroom and focusing on ourselves.
I wonder

Yes We Can!
Yes we can
yes we can?

Can We? Only time will tell, but here is hoping.

Another Trip To The Doctor

High Fever. Body Aches. Sweating. Tired. Headaches. Dizziness. Nausea.
All classic symptoms of the flu. Apparently, also all classic symptoms as Malaria.

"The general symptoms include: flu-like symptoms"

Having never actually had Malaria before, but my fair share of flu's, I was all but convinced that what I was suffering from was a simple bout of Influenza. However, at the guest house there was growing concern from people who had resided in East Africa for quite some time that lurking under the guise of a common flu was really Malaria.

This concern resulted in a trip to the doctor, which, truth be told, by the time the moment arrived I was more or less ready to go. (If you know me, that is a big enough deal since I will wait [as my mom can attest to] until I am doubled over in pain before conceding to go). After several nights of hardly sleeping and waking up before dawn I was more than ready to be done with whatever it was that I had.

Informed I would be driven to the hospital after Saturday pancake breakfast I was slightly apprehensive about going, but more than ready to be healthy. Arriving at the King Faisal Hospital in Kigali, I was pleasantly surprised by the exterior of the building, but not as impressed with the lack of direction given once inside. Directed from the main desk downstairs to the Emergency area it once again became unclear as to where we were supposed to go and what we were supposed to do. Walking in, I made way down the hallway and into the corridor that was the receiving area for 'Emergency Care'. Stopping in at the reception desk we were handed forms to complete to open accounts at the clinic, much of which we were forced to leave blank as we are not from Rwanda.

Returning to wait in the corridor, I was quickly ushered in to the 'triage' room where the nurse gave me the standard barrage of questions. However, working with the metric system I had very few accurate answers and engaged in a small math lesson working on conversion of lbs to kgs, and inches to centimeters. Trying to make me more comfortable with the entire process, the nurse sought to engage me in small talk, which was less than eventful.

Finally finished, I was escorted to a stark room and sat on a hospital bed waiting for the doctor to arrive as the blue curtain was pulled around for additional privacy. In the bed next to me I could hear a woman talking in kinyarwanda with the doctor and nurse, sounding quite well for someone stuck in the hospital. I sat sideways awkwardly on the bed with feet dangling looking over the paperwork the nurse had just filled out. When the doctor finally arrived, he asked all the same questions and then informed me that he didn't think I had Malaria, but would order me a test anyways. Grateful to see the end in sight, I waited patiently behind the blue curtain for someone to come and draw my blood.

The doctor returned a moment later apologizing for not informing me that I needed to go to the lab. Giving me very confusing directions, I wound my way out of Emergency and up the stairs to what I thought was the "lab". It wasn't. Instead some very nice lady working at the hospital directed me to the "last door at the end of the walkway." Making my way down the outdoor walkway, I arrived at the final door which was already open as though they had been expecting me. Deserted and silent I approached the man behind the counter and hand him my papers. Saying nothing he takes then and I sit, waiting. A while later the man signals me back to a little cubical with two chairs and everything necessary to carry out the task. Seeking to explain my history of fainting when getting blood drawn, I proceed to ask if there is somewhere I can lay down. After two attempts to make him understand my point, I gave up and simply prayed that I would stay upright because then we really would have an emergency on our hands. Thankfully I survived the experience even though it was one of the most painful and I walked away feeling worse than when I went in.

Making my way back through the maze that is most hospitals, I returned to the waiting area in the Emergency section evermore convinced I was suffering from Influenza. Not willing to wait the hour plus that we were informed the results would take, it was asked if I could just call in to receive them. A concept completely foreign to nearly every attendant we spoke with, it was finally determined that it would be an acceptable course of action. Paying Mzungu prices for mzungu service, we were actually moved along fairly quickly by African standards. Perhaps the most amusing part of my entire time there was the distinction my friend and I were given on all pieces of our paperwork: "Patient Type: Casualty". Obviously meaning something very different to them then to us I nearly burst out laughing when I originally came across it. I am not sure if i am 100% okay with being considered a "Casualty" upon entrance.

After all that the test results came back negative and as suspected I simply have a very severe case of the Flu.
And I have decided that I greatly prefer the clinic in Kampala to the one here in Kigali