I wondered how long it would take and the moment came…I had my first real “WTF?” (what the *#&*?) since being here – during which time I should really tell myself “TIA” (this is Africa).
I was asked this afternoon to edit a letter that has been written for the Rector of the University to the Minister of Education. The letter was terrible – sentences not making any sense. When I tried to make the necessary corrections I was told that I couldn’t and I was just to check for grammar. I told my co-worker you cannot put a band aid on a broken arm and expect it to be fixed – I cannot fix the grammar of sentences that make no sense. So – I had to edit a document which is an embarrassment to the University and sign my name to it.I hate these moments as they are completely frustrating and almost bring you to tears…usually how you react has a lot to do about how you are feeling about being away in that moment….guess I am having one of those afternoons when going home to my apartment would be a lot nicer than shuffling home to my insect ridden single bedroom….
Friday, July 6, 2007
Hotel Ibis
Sammy and "Christdaddy"
Media (ironically she works in the Public Relations Office of the University)
Bigga Cockaroacha....
We came home last night to find a very large, what looked like a cockroach, in the corridor of our guest house…I DO NOT exaggerate that it was longer than my index finger and almost as wide as the palm of my hand. Needless to say I slept with my blankets tucked in nice and tight around my body.
We woke up on Tuesday morning to a very grey sky and rain. Claudine and I geared up (me in my $5.00 Crappy Tire rain poncho) for our twenty minute treck through mud to school. The streets were quiet and we arrived at work to find the place empty. As we tried to dry our soaking wet pants and shirt sleeves – people began to drift in (an hour late for work). Our decision to come to work on time through the rain caused quite the ruckus at work….apparently 'African Time' when it rains out of season has a whole new meaning.
We have also become familiar with “brown-outs” or temporary shortages in the power, which can be quite frustrating. My work right now at the University involves a lot of cut and pasting and when the power shorts out every five minutes, the day becomes quite long.
We have finally met the Rector of the University. He has given us the go ahead to take on any project we want within the school. As aforementioned, the school is going through a transition. The Rector pointed out that there are no manuals in the school that regulate or streamline processes within the University; he suggested we develop a manual for the Deans on all school policy and procedures. However, we are interested in being a part of the school’s transition to a “westernized” system. We have been put in touch with another foreigner (not sure where he is from) who is the Director of Quality and something or other. We are hoping to meet with him soon to see what we can offer the school.
We have made acquaintance with two very gentle boys who are interns working at the school. They are from Rwandese families who had taken refuge in Uganda many years prior to the genocide, but returned to Rwanda in 1994. They are patient with all of our questions, which are many as they seem to be the only two locals we have met who will talk openly about the genocide, specifically with reference to Hutus and Tutsis. What I gathered from our conversations is that Rwanda is focusing on dismantling the tribalism between the two groups, which means that people are not to speak about the Hutus or Tutsis being separate identities; everyone is considered Rwandese. One can be arrested for referring to either group with a negative connotation. History in the schools has been re-written to dispose of ethnic identity within Rwanda. This is something I would be truly interested in learning more about as I fear that ignorance of a violent history reaching back almost sixty years and ending only thirteen years ago does not help in the healing process and could lend history to repeat itself. As an educator who believes in social justice, I would be interested in finding out whether post-colonial history is taught in a way that teaches the young Rwandese that being Hutu or Tutsi was simply a social construction imposed by colonial rulers. In my reading of Rwanda, it is seems that after the genocide, many Tutsi who took refuge in neighbouring countries have returned with their wealth and re-established themselves as the elite. And, from my previous blog, it is evident that there is little respect between the socio-economic classes or should I say – from the upper classes towards the lower classes.
In my travels, I have found that conversations with the upper-middle class members of developing countries usually reaches the topic of money and opportunities to make money. Steve, one of the interns, began to tell me how in Canada we have a lot of money to do things such as graduate school. He is completing his undergrad degree and is interested in pursuing a MBA; however, states that he is limited due to his financial situation. He couldn’t undestand that in the West, education is not free and my pockets do not overflow with money. I explained that I work two to three part-time jobs while enrolled in my graduate studies to pay for school. This does not happen here. What we consider ‘part-time’ jobs, such as waitressing, ideal for students putting themselves through school are reserved for those in the lower socio-economic classes of Africa. He also stated, quite frankly, that if we (foreigners) wanted to start our own business, we have personal reserves to cover the start-up costs. I didn’t feel the need to explain how our society lives on individual credit – many people living way beyond their means in order to do things like attend school and start a business (or just own the things that we feel we need).
Wednesday was a National holiday, Liberation Day; the day that the current government’s army liberated Rwanda from the previous government responsible for the genocide. We were picked up at 9:00 am to attend a ‘march’ at the stadium. As amuzungo’s (foreigners), we were directed to sit in the bleachers with dignitaries and other representatives from the University, where we both felt very awkward. It would have been much more enjoyable and comfortable to mingle with the general population standing in the field to watch the ceremony. The ceremony was suppose to start at 9:00, but of course did not begin until almost 11:00. The first part of the ceremony consisted of different schools, businesses, NGO’s, and other community organizations marching past and saluting the dignitaries in the stadium. I had taken part in a very similar experience during my time in Cameroon, albeit on a much smaller scale. Once the marching was done, the remainder of the celebration was speeches from various dignitaries interspersed with Entore dancing. We understood next to none of the speeches as they were in Kinyarwanda, but did here the occasional “Tutsi” and “Hutu”. We also bowed our heads in what we assume was a moment of silence for the fallen of the genocide. Entore dancing is the traditional dance of Rwanda accompanied with drumming, singing, and clapping. Entore means “the best” and during the traditional Rwanda monarchy - those chosen to dance for the king were considered Entore or the best. I took video with my camera and will try to attach to the blog.
After three long hours, we were invited back to a local hotel where there was a lunch for members of the University. The celebration included more singing and dancing. The University has a group of students who practice and perform Entore dancing. During the ceremony a song played over the loud speaker almost everyone jumped up to dance. The song is significant in the 'new' Rwanda as it sings about liberation. This song was played in the streets of Rwanda immediately following the announcement of Paul Kagame being elected as the first President following the genocide. Of course we were pulled onto our feet to join the dancing. I couldn’t have felt any whiter. A wonderful older man tried his best to teach me the traditional dance, which involves very intricate arm movements – movements that the stiffness of being white cannot maneuver.
In the evening, we met up with some friends we have made from the film crew. We have befriended may local Rwandese who are working on set in logistics, costume, and as actors. I realize that their details may not interest most of you reading this, but to some of you it may be more insight to the local culture and for myself, I would like to remember the details of these wonderful people. Christian is the ‘logistics’ man for the film. He was raised in the former Zaire and returned to Rwanda with his family in 1999. Apparently his nickname is “Christdaddy” (we are sure that this nickname does not have the same affiliation with rap that it would in the West). He filled us in on all of the movies which are being filmed in Rwanda over the next few years. A couple such as “Sometime in April” (HBO) and “Sunday at the Pool in Kigali” (made from a novel) are two of the ones which have already been done here. Christian says that France and Belgium have lined up many more films to be done here on the genocide over the next few years. These films have created an industry in Rwanda, to which many young people flock for jobs. However, I wonder what will happen when the world looses interest in the genocide and the film industry of Rwanda dries up. Christian has a beautiful voice and the last two evenings we have gone to one of local bars to listen to him sing, accompanied by friends. We met another man, Maurice, who has been dubbed ‘Bob Maurice’ due to his dreadlocks. His father was British and mother Rwandese. He is a very interesting man. During the genocide he was a driver for the RPF (Rwanda Patriotic Front). During this time, he was shot by a Hutu soldier and lost is leg. He now works with an organization that travels Rwanda, fitting victims of the genocide and land mines with prosthetics. He got a job on set in costume due to his familiarity with the gear of the local soldiers. He has interesting stories to tell of the militant policing in Rwanda. His home has been searched many times for drugs as the local police assume he is a dealer due to his long dreadlocks. Each time he is searched, he is hauled down to the local police station where they shave his head. Maurice informed the police that the next time they wanted to shave his head they would have to cut his head off of his neck. I want to write about the others but will stop there.
Last night we met two other foreign women from England who are warm and interesting. We have found it strange how the other foreign women in town show no interest in wanting to meet. I have often tried to catch other foreign women’s attention with a smile or hello, but none of them reciprocate. However, these two girls were more than happy to join our table for a beer last night. They are first year students who are here with an organization to teach sex education in school and work with ex-prostitutes. Their stories are incredible! We are planning to visit the schools where they are volunteering to learn more about what they do.
My co-worker and I continue to have fun with each other and it is a stream of endless teasing between the two of us. He makes the days go by quickly with his charades. However, I am finding my patience wear thin throughout the day as we work together in a most inefficient manner. Yesterday we held a meeting with the school Rectors, Directors and Deans. Preparation for this meeting was slow and arduous, and I often had to physically step out of the building to just let Patrick to do things his own way.
We went ‘house hunting’ yesterday…the school’s Rector is most upset that we do not have proper housing and has every staff member searching for a suitable place. The first home we saw was a three bedroom with a beautiful walled in garden. However, there was no fridge or stove. The second place we saw was also a three bedroom with a HUGE yard and garden. However, it was one of the dirtiest things I have ever seen. I was scared to open doors for fear of something charging at me. And going back to the large bug we saw in our own hotel the previous evening – decided that cleanliness is a MUST…
The weather this week is definitely not as anticipated. The mornings are cloudy and cool, and the days only see periodic bouts of sunshine. I think I will return more pale than if I had stayed in Canada for the summer!
We woke up on Tuesday morning to a very grey sky and rain. Claudine and I geared up (me in my $5.00 Crappy Tire rain poncho) for our twenty minute treck through mud to school. The streets were quiet and we arrived at work to find the place empty. As we tried to dry our soaking wet pants and shirt sleeves – people began to drift in (an hour late for work). Our decision to come to work on time through the rain caused quite the ruckus at work….apparently 'African Time' when it rains out of season has a whole new meaning.
We have also become familiar with “brown-outs” or temporary shortages in the power, which can be quite frustrating. My work right now at the University involves a lot of cut and pasting and when the power shorts out every five minutes, the day becomes quite long.
We have finally met the Rector of the University. He has given us the go ahead to take on any project we want within the school. As aforementioned, the school is going through a transition. The Rector pointed out that there are no manuals in the school that regulate or streamline processes within the University; he suggested we develop a manual for the Deans on all school policy and procedures. However, we are interested in being a part of the school’s transition to a “westernized” system. We have been put in touch with another foreigner (not sure where he is from) who is the Director of Quality and something or other. We are hoping to meet with him soon to see what we can offer the school.
We have made acquaintance with two very gentle boys who are interns working at the school. They are from Rwandese families who had taken refuge in Uganda many years prior to the genocide, but returned to Rwanda in 1994. They are patient with all of our questions, which are many as they seem to be the only two locals we have met who will talk openly about the genocide, specifically with reference to Hutus and Tutsis. What I gathered from our conversations is that Rwanda is focusing on dismantling the tribalism between the two groups, which means that people are not to speak about the Hutus or Tutsis being separate identities; everyone is considered Rwandese. One can be arrested for referring to either group with a negative connotation. History in the schools has been re-written to dispose of ethnic identity within Rwanda. This is something I would be truly interested in learning more about as I fear that ignorance of a violent history reaching back almost sixty years and ending only thirteen years ago does not help in the healing process and could lend history to repeat itself. As an educator who believes in social justice, I would be interested in finding out whether post-colonial history is taught in a way that teaches the young Rwandese that being Hutu or Tutsi was simply a social construction imposed by colonial rulers. In my reading of Rwanda, it is seems that after the genocide, many Tutsi who took refuge in neighbouring countries have returned with their wealth and re-established themselves as the elite. And, from my previous blog, it is evident that there is little respect between the socio-economic classes or should I say – from the upper classes towards the lower classes.
In my travels, I have found that conversations with the upper-middle class members of developing countries usually reaches the topic of money and opportunities to make money. Steve, one of the interns, began to tell me how in Canada we have a lot of money to do things such as graduate school. He is completing his undergrad degree and is interested in pursuing a MBA; however, states that he is limited due to his financial situation. He couldn’t undestand that in the West, education is not free and my pockets do not overflow with money. I explained that I work two to three part-time jobs while enrolled in my graduate studies to pay for school. This does not happen here. What we consider ‘part-time’ jobs, such as waitressing, ideal for students putting themselves through school are reserved for those in the lower socio-economic classes of Africa. He also stated, quite frankly, that if we (foreigners) wanted to start our own business, we have personal reserves to cover the start-up costs. I didn’t feel the need to explain how our society lives on individual credit – many people living way beyond their means in order to do things like attend school and start a business (or just own the things that we feel we need).
Wednesday was a National holiday, Liberation Day; the day that the current government’s army liberated Rwanda from the previous government responsible for the genocide. We were picked up at 9:00 am to attend a ‘march’ at the stadium. As amuzungo’s (foreigners), we were directed to sit in the bleachers with dignitaries and other representatives from the University, where we both felt very awkward. It would have been much more enjoyable and comfortable to mingle with the general population standing in the field to watch the ceremony. The ceremony was suppose to start at 9:00, but of course did not begin until almost 11:00. The first part of the ceremony consisted of different schools, businesses, NGO’s, and other community organizations marching past and saluting the dignitaries in the stadium. I had taken part in a very similar experience during my time in Cameroon, albeit on a much smaller scale. Once the marching was done, the remainder of the celebration was speeches from various dignitaries interspersed with Entore dancing. We understood next to none of the speeches as they were in Kinyarwanda, but did here the occasional “Tutsi” and “Hutu”. We also bowed our heads in what we assume was a moment of silence for the fallen of the genocide. Entore dancing is the traditional dance of Rwanda accompanied with drumming, singing, and clapping. Entore means “the best” and during the traditional Rwanda monarchy - those chosen to dance for the king were considered Entore or the best. I took video with my camera and will try to attach to the blog.
After three long hours, we were invited back to a local hotel where there was a lunch for members of the University. The celebration included more singing and dancing. The University has a group of students who practice and perform Entore dancing. During the ceremony a song played over the loud speaker almost everyone jumped up to dance. The song is significant in the 'new' Rwanda as it sings about liberation. This song was played in the streets of Rwanda immediately following the announcement of Paul Kagame being elected as the first President following the genocide. Of course we were pulled onto our feet to join the dancing. I couldn’t have felt any whiter. A wonderful older man tried his best to teach me the traditional dance, which involves very intricate arm movements – movements that the stiffness of being white cannot maneuver.
In the evening, we met up with some friends we have made from the film crew. We have befriended may local Rwandese who are working on set in logistics, costume, and as actors. I realize that their details may not interest most of you reading this, but to some of you it may be more insight to the local culture and for myself, I would like to remember the details of these wonderful people. Christian is the ‘logistics’ man for the film. He was raised in the former Zaire and returned to Rwanda with his family in 1999. Apparently his nickname is “Christdaddy” (we are sure that this nickname does not have the same affiliation with rap that it would in the West). He filled us in on all of the movies which are being filmed in Rwanda over the next few years. A couple such as “Sometime in April” (HBO) and “Sunday at the Pool in Kigali” (made from a novel) are two of the ones which have already been done here. Christian says that France and Belgium have lined up many more films to be done here on the genocide over the next few years. These films have created an industry in Rwanda, to which many young people flock for jobs. However, I wonder what will happen when the world looses interest in the genocide and the film industry of Rwanda dries up. Christian has a beautiful voice and the last two evenings we have gone to one of local bars to listen to him sing, accompanied by friends. We met another man, Maurice, who has been dubbed ‘Bob Maurice’ due to his dreadlocks. His father was British and mother Rwandese. He is a very interesting man. During the genocide he was a driver for the RPF (Rwanda Patriotic Front). During this time, he was shot by a Hutu soldier and lost is leg. He now works with an organization that travels Rwanda, fitting victims of the genocide and land mines with prosthetics. He got a job on set in costume due to his familiarity with the gear of the local soldiers. He has interesting stories to tell of the militant policing in Rwanda. His home has been searched many times for drugs as the local police assume he is a dealer due to his long dreadlocks. Each time he is searched, he is hauled down to the local police station where they shave his head. Maurice informed the police that the next time they wanted to shave his head they would have to cut his head off of his neck. I want to write about the others but will stop there.
Last night we met two other foreign women from England who are warm and interesting. We have found it strange how the other foreign women in town show no interest in wanting to meet. I have often tried to catch other foreign women’s attention with a smile or hello, but none of them reciprocate. However, these two girls were more than happy to join our table for a beer last night. They are first year students who are here with an organization to teach sex education in school and work with ex-prostitutes. Their stories are incredible! We are planning to visit the schools where they are volunteering to learn more about what they do.
My co-worker and I continue to have fun with each other and it is a stream of endless teasing between the two of us. He makes the days go by quickly with his charades. However, I am finding my patience wear thin throughout the day as we work together in a most inefficient manner. Yesterday we held a meeting with the school Rectors, Directors and Deans. Preparation for this meeting was slow and arduous, and I often had to physically step out of the building to just let Patrick to do things his own way.
We went ‘house hunting’ yesterday…the school’s Rector is most upset that we do not have proper housing and has every staff member searching for a suitable place. The first home we saw was a three bedroom with a beautiful walled in garden. However, there was no fridge or stove. The second place we saw was also a three bedroom with a HUGE yard and garden. However, it was one of the dirtiest things I have ever seen. I was scared to open doors for fear of something charging at me. And going back to the large bug we saw in our own hotel the previous evening – decided that cleanliness is a MUST…
The weather this week is definitely not as anticipated. The mornings are cloudy and cool, and the days only see periodic bouts of sunshine. I think I will return more pale than if I had stayed in Canada for the summer!
Monday, July 2, 2007
One Week In
Firstly, I would like to say thank you to those who have added a comment or emailed to share reflections on this experience. As some of you can relate, each experience brings with it more insight to this world and more confusion to my position here. Secondly, because it has been so long since my last posting - I forewarn that this entry is long and disjointed as I rush to get down all of my thoughts. Unlike Claudine...I actually have work to do here...;)
I have come to the conclusion that at times I need to stop questioning and just be – to enjoy each experience with whomever I come across; other foreigners and local Rwandese. Friday night was an excellent example as we went to Ibis, the local watering hole for both the local and foreign people of Butare. We arrived late, after being out to dinner with our new friend Patrick, to find a band playing. The band comprised of local talent and over the course of the evening crew members from the French film joined the band. It was beautiful to watch two very different cultures, one of which greatly contributed to the dismantling of this country 13 years ago, play together on stage. However, as the evening continued, the French started to take over on stage. I turned to Claudine and made a comment and she gently told me to ‘let it go for the night’; good advice. The evening flowed as the locals moved tables and began to just dance…I was almost moved to tears as I watched them take pleasure in the music. Men dance with men as they tell stories and interact with each other through the songs. When the band stopped – we moved onto another bar called the “Safari Club” - the local 'club'. Being the only white female in the club – there was no shortage of dance partners. The differences between clubs in North American and Africa are based on the fundamental fact that dance here is part of the soul. Although it is very sexually charged – it is very innocent and pure at the same time. In North America you have to be dressed in the right clothes and be doing the right moves, but here it simply the art or experience of dance and nothing else. Our group left at 5:30 in the morning, exhausted after many hours of dancing.
There were a few insights offered on Friday from my interaction with my co-worker Patrick. While working on employee contracts with Patrick, he pointed to a name and said that she was in prison. It turns out that on Wednesday, during the gacaca ceremony [when locals are accused or acquitted for crimes in the genocide by the local community], she and her husband were singled out for their acts. Apparently they were accused by some of the locals for pointing out Tutsi to be killed by the Hutu. She is also accused of not seperating herself from the RTLM Radio station (of which she had shares) when it was broadcasting propaganda to kill the Tutsi during the 100 days of genocide. As I discovered on Friday night at dinner with Patrick, he finds it difficult to talk about the genocide as it brings back bad memories. We are slowly discovering that there is a lot of healing that still needs to be done in Rwanda. We also discovered that he has a great dislike for the French due to their role in providing arms and support to the perpetrators of the genocide. This was disclosed when at work on Friday a few members of the film crew showed up on campus. One of the French saw myself – another foreigner – sitting in our office and pushed by Patrick, walking into the office to make an introduction. I was taken aback by the behaviour and Patrick revealed, after a couple of drinks Friday night, that he was hurt and angered by the behaviour as well.
We also discovered on Friday night that social stratification is prevalent in this part of the world. Patrick, who tells us he is being promoted to ‘Director’ at the University, explained this. The beverage glasses were also on the buffet. Patrick refused to get one for himself and proceeded to make the sound for calling someone…”PSSST” to the waitress. I got up to get the glass myself and Patrick was very clear that because he was a “Director” at the University, he should be waited on by those in a lower social/economic position and that he doesn’t owe them any niceties in the process. Claudine and I struggle with this. We are not even permitted to get our own coffee or water at the University – we are constantly being told “we have people for that”. I assume that this social stratification was imported by the colonizers as the economic/social elite of this country take back their sense of power after being controlled by foreigners. However, as there is very little written history prior to colonization, we cannot truly know from where this class system comes.
Patrick also disclosed his concern over my having three cats. In a very simple manner he said, “you pay for food and hospital bills for these things – why not just kill them and then take some very poor Rwandese children home to pay for their food and hospital bills”…It was a very interesting point as Stephen Lewis makes this exact arguement in his book, “Race Against Time”; that the amount of money Europe and Japan spend on pet food in a year combined could alleviate African debt (I cannot recall if it was an individual country's debt or the continent's); regardless, I was struck by this comment. As I tried to explain to Patrick that it is very expensive to raise a child in North American, I began to feel ashamed of my own defense as most of what we think is necessary to raise children in North America is according to our own values. If I took the amount of money spent on my fostered cats, I could provide a very comfortable and safe living environment for a very poor orphaned Rwandese child compared to how they currently 'survive'.
Homosexuality was another topic that came up at dinner as we commented on how affectionate African men are with each other. Patrick refuted the existence of homosexuality in Rwanda and stated that IF there were any the total number for the country would be about 6. This discussion did not go much further, and there is little insight I can offer at this point.
On Saturday we ventured into the local market where you can purchase just about anything. Bags and bags of second hand clothing were waiting to be opened and put up for display in the various stalls. The entire market smelled like church basement, which is likely where the various wares come from. We are all too familiar with the clothing drives and donations made to "third world" countries.
This link is worth checking out as we approach the anniversary of Darfur:
http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2006/11/30/60minutes/main2218371.shtml
Here is a picture of monkeys seen last Friday am strolling through campus. They were a beautiful site to come across and even the locals stopped to watch their charades.
I have come to the conclusion that at times I need to stop questioning and just be – to enjoy each experience with whomever I come across; other foreigners and local Rwandese. Friday night was an excellent example as we went to Ibis, the local watering hole for both the local and foreign people of Butare. We arrived late, after being out to dinner with our new friend Patrick, to find a band playing. The band comprised of local talent and over the course of the evening crew members from the French film joined the band. It was beautiful to watch two very different cultures, one of which greatly contributed to the dismantling of this country 13 years ago, play together on stage. However, as the evening continued, the French started to take over on stage. I turned to Claudine and made a comment and she gently told me to ‘let it go for the night’; good advice. The evening flowed as the locals moved tables and began to just dance…I was almost moved to tears as I watched them take pleasure in the music. Men dance with men as they tell stories and interact with each other through the songs. When the band stopped – we moved onto another bar called the “Safari Club” - the local 'club'. Being the only white female in the club – there was no shortage of dance partners. The differences between clubs in North American and Africa are based on the fundamental fact that dance here is part of the soul. Although it is very sexually charged – it is very innocent and pure at the same time. In North America you have to be dressed in the right clothes and be doing the right moves, but here it simply the art or experience of dance and nothing else. Our group left at 5:30 in the morning, exhausted after many hours of dancing.
There were a few insights offered on Friday from my interaction with my co-worker Patrick. While working on employee contracts with Patrick, he pointed to a name and said that she was in prison. It turns out that on Wednesday, during the gacaca ceremony [when locals are accused or acquitted for crimes in the genocide by the local community], she and her husband were singled out for their acts. Apparently they were accused by some of the locals for pointing out Tutsi to be killed by the Hutu. She is also accused of not seperating herself from the RTLM Radio station (of which she had shares) when it was broadcasting propaganda to kill the Tutsi during the 100 days of genocide. As I discovered on Friday night at dinner with Patrick, he finds it difficult to talk about the genocide as it brings back bad memories. We are slowly discovering that there is a lot of healing that still needs to be done in Rwanda. We also discovered that he has a great dislike for the French due to their role in providing arms and support to the perpetrators of the genocide. This was disclosed when at work on Friday a few members of the film crew showed up on campus. One of the French saw myself – another foreigner – sitting in our office and pushed by Patrick, walking into the office to make an introduction. I was taken aback by the behaviour and Patrick revealed, after a couple of drinks Friday night, that he was hurt and angered by the behaviour as well.
We also discovered on Friday night that social stratification is prevalent in this part of the world. Patrick, who tells us he is being promoted to ‘Director’ at the University, explained this. The beverage glasses were also on the buffet. Patrick refused to get one for himself and proceeded to make the sound for calling someone…”PSSST” to the waitress. I got up to get the glass myself and Patrick was very clear that because he was a “Director” at the University, he should be waited on by those in a lower social/economic position and that he doesn’t owe them any niceties in the process. Claudine and I struggle with this. We are not even permitted to get our own coffee or water at the University – we are constantly being told “we have people for that”. I assume that this social stratification was imported by the colonizers as the economic/social elite of this country take back their sense of power after being controlled by foreigners. However, as there is very little written history prior to colonization, we cannot truly know from where this class system comes.
Patrick also disclosed his concern over my having three cats. In a very simple manner he said, “you pay for food and hospital bills for these things – why not just kill them and then take some very poor Rwandese children home to pay for their food and hospital bills”…It was a very interesting point as Stephen Lewis makes this exact arguement in his book, “Race Against Time”; that the amount of money Europe and Japan spend on pet food in a year combined could alleviate African debt (I cannot recall if it was an individual country's debt or the continent's); regardless, I was struck by this comment. As I tried to explain to Patrick that it is very expensive to raise a child in North American, I began to feel ashamed of my own defense as most of what we think is necessary to raise children in North America is according to our own values. If I took the amount of money spent on my fostered cats, I could provide a very comfortable and safe living environment for a very poor orphaned Rwandese child compared to how they currently 'survive'.
Homosexuality was another topic that came up at dinner as we commented on how affectionate African men are with each other. Patrick refuted the existence of homosexuality in Rwanda and stated that IF there were any the total number for the country would be about 6. This discussion did not go much further, and there is little insight I can offer at this point.
On Saturday we ventured into the local market where you can purchase just about anything. Bags and bags of second hand clothing were waiting to be opened and put up for display in the various stalls. The entire market smelled like church basement, which is likely where the various wares come from. We are all too familiar with the clothing drives and donations made to "third world" countries.
This link is worth checking out as we approach the anniversary of Darfur:
http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2006/11/30/60minutes/main2218371.shtml
Here is a picture of monkeys seen last Friday am strolling through campus. They were a beautiful site to come across and even the locals stopped to watch their charades.
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