Here's the little recap of our AVP workshop that I promised.
Last week for 3 days a group of about 15 people gathered at the clinic for an Alternatives to Violence Project workshop, facilitated by John, Adrien and Virginie. There was the 3 of us workcampers plus Andrew, everyone who works at the clinic and then some folks from the neighborhood. One woman came all the way from up country in hopes of bringing some ideas back home with her. For the 2nd half of the first day we even had the chief of Kamenge, who looked like he was all of 15 but must at least have been in his twenties.
AVP originated as a program in prisons in New York several decades ago and has spread out considerably from there. There's a whole section of it that's pretty much word for word the same as Marshall Rosenberg's fundamentals of Non Violent Communication. Start with an observation, communicate your feeling using 'I' statements instead of 'you' statements, explain the why of the feeling (the need not being met) and make a request. There were exercises for approaching other peoples difficulties with empathy, illustrations of the ineffectiveness of combative communication, intense discussions and games.
Lots and lots of games. They're meant to help everyone operate at the same level (that of a child) as well as break the ice and provide a physical respite from sitting around talking.
And you know what most of the games were? The same games theatre students have been playing for generations. We played Zip Zap Boing, we played Donkey/Elephant (except here it was Igiti (tree)/Inshovu (elephant) and there was also a Skunk involved, we played Big Wind which is like a cross between musical chairs and Steal the Bacon. We played Molasses Tag. We even did the one where everyone stands in a circle and you create a tossing pattern and then add in more objects til everyone is always either throwing or catching. We did the count to 20 thing where on impulse you each say the numbers from 1 to 20 in order and if anyone talks on top of anyone else you have to start over. This is particularly difficult when people are counting in 3 different languages and not everyone knows all three. Who'd have thought, theatre games, healing the wounds of the world.
It was quite an amazing experience and because of our group agreement about confidentiality I can't really go in to all the reasons why except to say that hard questions were asked, we thought a long time about the answers without coming to any real conclusions (they weren't really the kinds of questions which have definitive solutions) and left feeling much more strongly connected to each other than when we'd started 3 days ago. I will also say it's a whole different ball game having discussions about violence with people who've lived through a civil war in a developing nation. During any exercise when we were asked to use examples from our own lives, I couldn't help but feel, well, lame for say talking about getting someone not to yell at people.
Anyway I think its a really helpful way to start our time working together. Now I just wish that the skilled labor construction guys could have been a part of it too. I haven't learned most of their names even and they pretty much only speak Kirundi so without the benefit of the constant translation we had at the workshop all we can do is point at things and work. We did have a nice little moment today though while I was sitting in the back and we were all waiting for the next wheelbarrow full of cement to come from the front. I started juggling some stones and one of the guys who pours and shapes and spreads the cement picked up some stones too and tried to show me he could 'shower' and then indicated that his failure to do so was because of the stones. Jonathan was also impressed which was what I'd been going for in the first place.
Last thing. We were talking to Alexia today about the work the clinic does and she explained that in the hospitals a person has to pay before they receive any treatment, even in the emergency room (which by the way is the free market economy approach to health care taken to its worst case scenario endgame). Sometimes doctors and nurses will pay for medicine or supplies for patients out of their own pocket when the hospital administration won't admit someone . At the clinic, everyone gets treatment and if they can't pay the clinic has a little fund they can dip into to cover things. There are limits though to what the clinic can do since it's not yet certified. They can't, for example distribute anti-retrovirals for HIV/AIDS. That's why it's so very important that these three rooms get built. Unfortunately, Alexia is worried that we don't have enough money. The Burundi workcamp is the smallest one you see and was supposed to have at least one more person who backed out because of the rebel action that was going on in April/May. Anyway the point of all this is to say that if you've been reading these blogs and thinking, "I'm sorry I missed my chance to make a donation" let me tell you, it's not too late! You can still go to www.aglionline.org and make a contribution. Just be sure to earmark it for Burundi and the Kamenge Clinic. Not that everything AGLI does isn't worth supporting, it is, it's just that these are the people I know. Anyway most of you have already been super generous and the people of Kamenge and I thank you for it. Just want to be sure everyone has an opportunity to participate.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Monday, July 7, 2008
Putting the Work in Workcamp
At some point I do want to tell you about the AVP workshop we did last week but we're all so excited about starting to work today, I'm going to talk about that instead.
We started in right away, just walked through the gate and started picking up stones. Today we were laying the foundation for the new brick wall going around the clinic. If you've ever wondered how people used to build those old stone walls you sometimes see, I've now become something of an observational expert. During the AVP workshop we'd seen people digging a deep 2 foot wide trench behind the clinic. This morning when we arrived the skilled workers were piling large stones in the trench and putting a mud made of red clay & sand mixed with water in the cracks. They had small mallets which they used to chip pieces off the stones to get them to fit they way they wanted to. Often they'd search around a bit for the right shaped stone and then chip away at it to make it just right. Like reverse engineering a puzzle. So our first task was bringing them stones along with buckets and wheelbarrows full of mud. I learned the Kirundi for small stone (amawiye ritoya) and large stone (amawiye rine). Before long we were pretty much covered with red streaks from the mud. By we I mean the mzungus. Somehow Odette, Eric, Alexia, Claire and Maxime all managed to stay clean while doing exactly the same work we were doing.
Then for a while John and I worked with Samuel on making the rebar supports for the cement bracing of the wall. The rebar comes in long pieces bent like a paperclip several times over. So first Samuel has to straighten the bar, first by hand and then after it's cut with a mallet on stone. Then we measured out marks every 20cm and with bits of wire attached square pieces of rebar to four long straight pieces, creating a column. The columns get put in at the corners and in the middle and then filled with cement. Another one lays along the top of the stone foundation in between the columns. Then I believe bricks go on top of that. Stay tuned to find out.
All of this work by the way is done with one hammer, one real mallet, one hacksaw, two pairs of pliers and a couple of improvised mallets for the stone workers. There's no trough for mixing the cement so the sand, rocks and cement mix are poured in a heap on the ground and mixed with shovels (we've got 2). They make a well in the center of the pile (like when you're making muffins) and water is poured in. Again it's carefully mixed using the shovels while maintaining a bit of a water well at the center. We've got one large metal bucket and one small plastic one for hauling the cement so we also used the cement mix bags themselves, cut open and laid flat with a person on each end twisting two corners together. Pretty amazing how much we manage to do with so little. By the time we left this afternoon the whole back foundation had been laid and the side wall foundation was on its way, being laid out with string stretched between bamboo stakes.
We tend to attract crowds of children wherever we go and today was no exception. As we were hauling stones from the street a bunch of kids came to watch. Then before you could say jambo they were picking up stones (the ritoya ones) and following us back to the side wall. At one point I think there were at least 15 kids, carrying stones in a line looking quite pleased with themselves. Who says child labor can't be fun?
Speaking of which, Adrien's 8 year old son Jonathan was with us all day working just as hard as anyone, carrying stones, the small plastic bucket of mud, picking up bamboo sticks and even helping to wire the rebar. It seemed he was constantly on the lookout for something to do and he kind of put the rest of us to shame.
It was such a great feeling today to be working on something concrete (ha!) seeing women coming and going from consultations with Claire (when she wasn't hauling stones), knowing that Maxime was in the lab testing blood for HIV (when he wasn't hauling stones) and really getting the sense of the work the clinic does in the community.
Tomorrow we'll bring at least one camera so we can get a few pictures and we have some 'before' & and 'after' illustrations. Andrew leaves us tomorrow to go on a research trip to Kigali and then to Gomah. He's collecting information to write a grant for AGLI and will be gone for maybe two weeks. We'll miss him very much but look forward to many stories of his travels- he's going by himself, a recipe for adventure if ever there was one.
N'ahejo! (See you tomorrow!)
We started in right away, just walked through the gate and started picking up stones. Today we were laying the foundation for the new brick wall going around the clinic. If you've ever wondered how people used to build those old stone walls you sometimes see, I've now become something of an observational expert. During the AVP workshop we'd seen people digging a deep 2 foot wide trench behind the clinic. This morning when we arrived the skilled workers were piling large stones in the trench and putting a mud made of red clay & sand mixed with water in the cracks. They had small mallets which they used to chip pieces off the stones to get them to fit they way they wanted to. Often they'd search around a bit for the right shaped stone and then chip away at it to make it just right. Like reverse engineering a puzzle. So our first task was bringing them stones along with buckets and wheelbarrows full of mud. I learned the Kirundi for small stone (amawiye ritoya) and large stone (amawiye rine). Before long we were pretty much covered with red streaks from the mud. By we I mean the mzungus. Somehow Odette, Eric, Alexia, Claire and Maxime all managed to stay clean while doing exactly the same work we were doing.
Then for a while John and I worked with Samuel on making the rebar supports for the cement bracing of the wall. The rebar comes in long pieces bent like a paperclip several times over. So first Samuel has to straighten the bar, first by hand and then after it's cut with a mallet on stone. Then we measured out marks every 20cm and with bits of wire attached square pieces of rebar to four long straight pieces, creating a column. The columns get put in at the corners and in the middle and then filled with cement. Another one lays along the top of the stone foundation in between the columns. Then I believe bricks go on top of that. Stay tuned to find out.
All of this work by the way is done with one hammer, one real mallet, one hacksaw, two pairs of pliers and a couple of improvised mallets for the stone workers. There's no trough for mixing the cement so the sand, rocks and cement mix are poured in a heap on the ground and mixed with shovels (we've got 2). They make a well in the center of the pile (like when you're making muffins) and water is poured in. Again it's carefully mixed using the shovels while maintaining a bit of a water well at the center. We've got one large metal bucket and one small plastic one for hauling the cement so we also used the cement mix bags themselves, cut open and laid flat with a person on each end twisting two corners together. Pretty amazing how much we manage to do with so little. By the time we left this afternoon the whole back foundation had been laid and the side wall foundation was on its way, being laid out with string stretched between bamboo stakes.
We tend to attract crowds of children wherever we go and today was no exception. As we were hauling stones from the street a bunch of kids came to watch. Then before you could say jambo they were picking up stones (the ritoya ones) and following us back to the side wall. At one point I think there were at least 15 kids, carrying stones in a line looking quite pleased with themselves. Who says child labor can't be fun?
Speaking of which, Adrien's 8 year old son Jonathan was with us all day working just as hard as anyone, carrying stones, the small plastic bucket of mud, picking up bamboo sticks and even helping to wire the rebar. It seemed he was constantly on the lookout for something to do and he kind of put the rest of us to shame.
It was such a great feeling today to be working on something concrete (ha!) seeing women coming and going from consultations with Claire (when she wasn't hauling stones), knowing that Maxime was in the lab testing blood for HIV (when he wasn't hauling stones) and really getting the sense of the work the clinic does in the community.
Tomorrow we'll bring at least one camera so we can get a few pictures and we have some 'before' & and 'after' illustrations. Andrew leaves us tomorrow to go on a research trip to Kigali and then to Gomah. He's collecting information to write a grant for AGLI and will be gone for maybe two weeks. We'll miss him very much but look forward to many stories of his travels- he's going by himself, a recipe for adventure if ever there was one.
N'ahejo! (See you tomorrow!)
Sunday, July 6, 2008
This morning we went to church in Kamenge (the same church where we went to the wedding). It's maybe 9 times bigger than the church at Rohero and was packed full. We sat up at the front with the pastors, Alexia, who is also the Clerk and the people giving the readings and sermons. Fortunately we were each sitting next to someone who could translate for us so we were able to understand the basics of the readings and sermons.
Both sermons were given by women (one of them was Odette, Adrien's wife). Odette even spoke at the beginning of her piece about how all the sermons would be given by women that day, that it was an appropriate thing for a woman to do, although it doesn't happen in other churches. The reading was from the Book of Daniel and she spoke about making difficult decisions when people were urging you to do something wrong. She gave some personal examples. When she was studying for her exams to get into university she failed her French test the first time through. Friends of hers got a copy of the test for the next time she would take it and urged her to use it but she refused, studied hard and got the highest mark on the test. Then she was glad to know she had earned those marks. She told about another time when she was asked to pay a bribe so that she could get her passport. When she asked Adrien for the money (about $80) he told her no, she would have to go through the process the legal way and later she saw he was right. She also talked about how there were some men who would ask their fiance for "an advance" was how my translator put it on their marriage and that women must be strong and refuse. My translator then asked me if such things happened in my country. When I said yes she looked very sad for us.
The service is completely different from the non-programmed Quaker meetings I am accustomed to. But the wonderful part about that is the singing. There are five or six different choirs and they each sing several songs. Sometimes there's also drumming and dancing. There was a visiting choir from up country and they even had props and a story. I love the way they begin. From the audience one person will start to sing and the rest of the choir will join in around her. Then they stand and walk up to the front singing. Often as soon one choir finishes the next will begin. When people know the words they join in with joy and enthusiasm and a fine time is had by all. Dave Zarembka told us in our orientation that church on Sunday is the entertainment for the week and I can see what he means. Today was a particularly long service, Alexia says, 4 hours long. I guess it has to last you all week.
Once again we got up and introduced ourselves. I ventured forth with a tiny bit more Kirundi than last time and did the rest in French. My hands were shaking a bit since speaking in front of a crowd of 900 people even in my own language is not exactly what I'd chose to do for entertainment. But I think it all went over well.
Once we got home we went on a little walk to the market to get some string to hang up laundry. (The one Rebecca loaned me is full! Thanks Rebecca!) But we had to walk away from the mzungu price of $8. We walked to the Public Garden and got rained on. It's unusual, we're told to have so much rain, twice in 3 days, during the dry season. We took cover in the gazebo in the park met a bunch of students who came over to talk to us in English and French. There were also a bunch of young children running around playing tag and evidence of a picnic that had been moved to the shelter of the gazebo. We were told it was an outing from an orphanages and all of the children had lost their parents in the war. We were offered Fanta (of course) and by the time we left I think we'd shaken hands with every man, woman and child in the gazebo. We passed on the Fanta and the students wanted to know why, did we not like it? Red explained that she'd had one at lunch. They said for Africans when you like something, you take it whenever it is offered because you don't know when it will come again. One young man said he could drink 20 Fantas in a day if he had the opportunity.
I'll close with two quick things. I'd read in the Unlocking the Horns book about how in the villages of Burundi there had been a long tradition of certain people acting as peace makers. They were called 'wise men' and people brought their disputes to them, they listened to all sides, conferred among themselves and then would restate the issues, pointing out where the two parties disagreed. In the end the two would drink from the same cup and there'd be a sort of party of forgiveness and the matter would be settled. When we were traveling up country and Adrien was telling us about the work that HROC is doing to bring about reconcilliation in the aftermath of the war. I asked him if there were still 'wise men' in the villages who could help. He said that during the war soldiers or rebels would come and force the wise men to kill people and then the other in the village lost their faith and trust in them. They saw that the wise men were like everyone else- powerless in the face of violence and the tradition was essentially killed off. So the war not only destroyed the present peace, it handicapped the hopes of future peace.
I will say though that there is a feeling of hope here now. During the Independence Day celebration (theirs not ours) the leader of the rebel group was sitting on the grandstand with the President. The president spoke in his speech about how this was a special Independence Day because as they looked at the mountains in the distance they did not have to fear what was up there. When we talk to the people that we meet, like the students in the park they all say they believe things will get better now. Let's all say "Amahoro" to that.
The other thing is to suggest if you're not Burundi blogged out you check out Andrew's blog. I believe you'll find it at www.quakerfront.com. He's got pictures from the parade and other things. Including, if you scroll down far enough, a bunch of cyclists hitched on to a truck.
Both sermons were given by women (one of them was Odette, Adrien's wife). Odette even spoke at the beginning of her piece about how all the sermons would be given by women that day, that it was an appropriate thing for a woman to do, although it doesn't happen in other churches. The reading was from the Book of Daniel and she spoke about making difficult decisions when people were urging you to do something wrong. She gave some personal examples. When she was studying for her exams to get into university she failed her French test the first time through. Friends of hers got a copy of the test for the next time she would take it and urged her to use it but she refused, studied hard and got the highest mark on the test. Then she was glad to know she had earned those marks. She told about another time when she was asked to pay a bribe so that she could get her passport. When she asked Adrien for the money (about $80) he told her no, she would have to go through the process the legal way and later she saw he was right. She also talked about how there were some men who would ask their fiance for "an advance" was how my translator put it on their marriage and that women must be strong and refuse. My translator then asked me if such things happened in my country. When I said yes she looked very sad for us.
The service is completely different from the non-programmed Quaker meetings I am accustomed to. But the wonderful part about that is the singing. There are five or six different choirs and they each sing several songs. Sometimes there's also drumming and dancing. There was a visiting choir from up country and they even had props and a story. I love the way they begin. From the audience one person will start to sing and the rest of the choir will join in around her. Then they stand and walk up to the front singing. Often as soon one choir finishes the next will begin. When people know the words they join in with joy and enthusiasm and a fine time is had by all. Dave Zarembka told us in our orientation that church on Sunday is the entertainment for the week and I can see what he means. Today was a particularly long service, Alexia says, 4 hours long. I guess it has to last you all week.
Once again we got up and introduced ourselves. I ventured forth with a tiny bit more Kirundi than last time and did the rest in French. My hands were shaking a bit since speaking in front of a crowd of 900 people even in my own language is not exactly what I'd chose to do for entertainment. But I think it all went over well.
Once we got home we went on a little walk to the market to get some string to hang up laundry. (The one Rebecca loaned me is full! Thanks Rebecca!) But we had to walk away from the mzungu price of $8. We walked to the Public Garden and got rained on. It's unusual, we're told to have so much rain, twice in 3 days, during the dry season. We took cover in the gazebo in the park met a bunch of students who came over to talk to us in English and French. There were also a bunch of young children running around playing tag and evidence of a picnic that had been moved to the shelter of the gazebo. We were told it was an outing from an orphanages and all of the children had lost their parents in the war. We were offered Fanta (of course) and by the time we left I think we'd shaken hands with every man, woman and child in the gazebo. We passed on the Fanta and the students wanted to know why, did we not like it? Red explained that she'd had one at lunch. They said for Africans when you like something, you take it whenever it is offered because you don't know when it will come again. One young man said he could drink 20 Fantas in a day if he had the opportunity.
I'll close with two quick things. I'd read in the Unlocking the Horns book about how in the villages of Burundi there had been a long tradition of certain people acting as peace makers. They were called 'wise men' and people brought their disputes to them, they listened to all sides, conferred among themselves and then would restate the issues, pointing out where the two parties disagreed. In the end the two would drink from the same cup and there'd be a sort of party of forgiveness and the matter would be settled. When we were traveling up country and Adrien was telling us about the work that HROC is doing to bring about reconcilliation in the aftermath of the war. I asked him if there were still 'wise men' in the villages who could help. He said that during the war soldiers or rebels would come and force the wise men to kill people and then the other in the village lost their faith and trust in them. They saw that the wise men were like everyone else- powerless in the face of violence and the tradition was essentially killed off. So the war not only destroyed the present peace, it handicapped the hopes of future peace.
I will say though that there is a feeling of hope here now. During the Independence Day celebration (theirs not ours) the leader of the rebel group was sitting on the grandstand with the President. The president spoke in his speech about how this was a special Independence Day because as they looked at the mountains in the distance they did not have to fear what was up there. When we talk to the people that we meet, like the students in the park they all say they believe things will get better now. Let's all say "Amahoro" to that.
The other thing is to suggest if you're not Burundi blogged out you check out Andrew's blog. I believe you'll find it at www.quakerfront.com. He's got pictures from the parade and other things. Including, if you scroll down far enough, a bunch of cyclists hitched on to a truck.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Happy American Independence Day!
Since our friends here in Bujumbura showed us such a good time for their Independence Day, we decided to throw a little fete and invite them to celebrate American Independence Day with us. Afterwards, we all agreed that next time we'll be a little less impromptu.
We had a modest plan from the beginning. Maybe a real cake, some popcorn and peanuts and we'd watch a movie. We decided to invite our whole AVP group which was 14 people plus the people here at the office in Rohero and Pastor Elie of course. Throw in Adrien's wife, children, brother & sister and one of Alexia's children and we realized the day of our party, it was not so little anymore. So then we went into the typical host panic of, "We must be sure to have enough food!"
The day before the party we looked for a movie to rent. We needed something that would be good for both kids and adults and preferably was in French with English subtitles (so we could all enjoy it too). We settled on Les Indestructibles (that's The Incredibles to you and me) and had a whole back and forth adventure between a video store and a rental place trying to settle on what made the most financial sense and ended up buying what is no doubt a bootleg copy for the equivalent of $6. We bought popcorn from a street vender and worried about whether we should have tried to bargain down from his price of $.50/bag. We're pretty sure we got the inflated mzungu price (you've got to figure if most people around here earn about $1/day there wouldn't be a lot of folks buy $.50 bags of popcorn) but I did notice that he put a lot more popcorn in our bag than in the others. Then we went on a quest for cake stopping in several little grocery shops. We found bread and croissants and cookies, but no cake. Day of the party, we decided to go back to the same bakery where we got my sweet bread and get a bunch of those. It was raining by then so I took the bread home while Andrew and John (graciously assisting the Americans with our party) went in search of peanuts and cookies.
Our first guests had already arrived when I got home so I bustled around getting Coke and Fanta for everyone and setting out the sweet bread. I also still had a bag of spicy trail mix and a box of animal crackers left from stocking up for the long flight over so I set those out as well. Red contributed some red licorice and before long Andrew and John were back with several bags of peanuts and an assortment of cookies. So far so good and more people arrived. Unfortunately we couldn't get the DVD we'd bought to work in the DVD player so we tried setting up a computer with speakers to play the American version of the movie Andrew had on his laptop. This took a long time. Burundians are fond of making speeches and they're part of most social events or gatherings so I tried to stall for time by making a little welcoming speech and explaining about it being our Independence Day and how even though we couldn't show them a parade we hoped they'd enjoy the combination of American and Burundian food and the American movie. We finally got the movie to start but even with the speakers the sound was very quiet so really only the 5 or 6 people up close could hear it. Everyone else sort of talked amongst themselves quietly. All while the rest of us were still running around refilling popcorn bowls and peanut plates and offering more soda. A few people seemed really to be enjoying the movie- in spite of it being in English- but I think we were all feeling about 2 hours in that the evening felt subdued and un-partylike.
Then Elie and Burundi culture saved the day.
At about 7:30 it was after dark and people would need to start getting home to real dinner while it was still ok to travel so Elie made a very gracious thank you speech which made us feel that in working so hard to keep the food flowing, we'd been good hosts. He finished by saying that in Burundian cultures the guests thank their hosts by dancing. Adrien started singing and everyone else started clapping and joined in the singing and there was dancing and it was instantly one of the best parties I've ever had. Adrien and Desire traded off leading the song (all in Kirundi so we had no idea what they were saying) and I gather that they were making up words to a song of gratitude or maybe adapting a standard one to this particular situation. There was a whole call and response thing and we each- John, Andrew, Red & I got called into the center to dance and be celebrated. It only lasted 15 minutes or so but completely transformed the atmosphere and when the leave taking began it was with such a joyful spirit.
Greeting and leave taking are very different in Burundi. When someone enters the room they greet and shake hands with everyone in that room, even if it's a party full of people. There's a whole language in the handshake as well. Your left hand rests on the crook in your right arm as you shake which is a sign of respect- so you don't do it with children though they will do it to you. Sometimes there's a three part hand clasp. Sometimes the handshake is preceded by a hug. Sometimes the hands meet with great engery, more of a hand slap that settles into a shake. Then again when you leave, you shake hands with everyone. Doesn't matter if you see them everyday and know you'll see them again tomorrow. You say hello, you say goodbye. It's quite wonderful and I love it. I always hate it when people leave a party or event without saying goodbye. I like closure of that moment.
We had a modest plan from the beginning. Maybe a real cake, some popcorn and peanuts and we'd watch a movie. We decided to invite our whole AVP group which was 14 people plus the people here at the office in Rohero and Pastor Elie of course. Throw in Adrien's wife, children, brother & sister and one of Alexia's children and we realized the day of our party, it was not so little anymore. So then we went into the typical host panic of, "We must be sure to have enough food!"
The day before the party we looked for a movie to rent. We needed something that would be good for both kids and adults and preferably was in French with English subtitles (so we could all enjoy it too). We settled on Les Indestructibles (that's The Incredibles to you and me) and had a whole back and forth adventure between a video store and a rental place trying to settle on what made the most financial sense and ended up buying what is no doubt a bootleg copy for the equivalent of $6. We bought popcorn from a street vender and worried about whether we should have tried to bargain down from his price of $.50/bag. We're pretty sure we got the inflated mzungu price (you've got to figure if most people around here earn about $1/day there wouldn't be a lot of folks buy $.50 bags of popcorn) but I did notice that he put a lot more popcorn in our bag than in the others. Then we went on a quest for cake stopping in several little grocery shops. We found bread and croissants and cookies, but no cake. Day of the party, we decided to go back to the same bakery where we got my sweet bread and get a bunch of those. It was raining by then so I took the bread home while Andrew and John (graciously assisting the Americans with our party) went in search of peanuts and cookies.
Our first guests had already arrived when I got home so I bustled around getting Coke and Fanta for everyone and setting out the sweet bread. I also still had a bag of spicy trail mix and a box of animal crackers left from stocking up for the long flight over so I set those out as well. Red contributed some red licorice and before long Andrew and John were back with several bags of peanuts and an assortment of cookies. So far so good and more people arrived. Unfortunately we couldn't get the DVD we'd bought to work in the DVD player so we tried setting up a computer with speakers to play the American version of the movie Andrew had on his laptop. This took a long time. Burundians are fond of making speeches and they're part of most social events or gatherings so I tried to stall for time by making a little welcoming speech and explaining about it being our Independence Day and how even though we couldn't show them a parade we hoped they'd enjoy the combination of American and Burundian food and the American movie. We finally got the movie to start but even with the speakers the sound was very quiet so really only the 5 or 6 people up close could hear it. Everyone else sort of talked amongst themselves quietly. All while the rest of us were still running around refilling popcorn bowls and peanut plates and offering more soda. A few people seemed really to be enjoying the movie- in spite of it being in English- but I think we were all feeling about 2 hours in that the evening felt subdued and un-partylike.
Then Elie and Burundi culture saved the day.
At about 7:30 it was after dark and people would need to start getting home to real dinner while it was still ok to travel so Elie made a very gracious thank you speech which made us feel that in working so hard to keep the food flowing, we'd been good hosts. He finished by saying that in Burundian cultures the guests thank their hosts by dancing. Adrien started singing and everyone else started clapping and joined in the singing and there was dancing and it was instantly one of the best parties I've ever had. Adrien and Desire traded off leading the song (all in Kirundi so we had no idea what they were saying) and I gather that they were making up words to a song of gratitude or maybe adapting a standard one to this particular situation. There was a whole call and response thing and we each- John, Andrew, Red & I got called into the center to dance and be celebrated. It only lasted 15 minutes or so but completely transformed the atmosphere and when the leave taking began it was with such a joyful spirit.
Greeting and leave taking are very different in Burundi. When someone enters the room they greet and shake hands with everyone in that room, even if it's a party full of people. There's a whole language in the handshake as well. Your left hand rests on the crook in your right arm as you shake which is a sign of respect- so you don't do it with children though they will do it to you. Sometimes there's a three part hand clasp. Sometimes the handshake is preceded by a hug. Sometimes the hands meet with great engery, more of a hand slap that settles into a shake. Then again when you leave, you shake hands with everyone. Doesn't matter if you see them everyday and know you'll see them again tomorrow. You say hello, you say goodbye. It's quite wonderful and I love it. I always hate it when people leave a party or event without saying goodbye. I like closure of that moment.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
These are the people in my neighborhood
I realize I've been throwing a lot of names around and we've been new people left and right so both for you and for me I thought I'd write a little primer of the people I'll be talking about a lot.
The AGLI workcampers:
Vanessa (Red) is 23 and a college student in Monteray, California. She'll be graduation this December. Red comes from a family of 28 (!) kids. Her parents (mother white, father black) had five of their own and then adopted 23 more, including Red. She's majoring in Business but is hoping to join the Peace Corps next year and come back to Africa.
John McKendy is a Sociology professor from Canada. Though he denies it, he has been known to say both 'eh' and 'aboat' (for about). John came to this same workcamp last year and everywhere we go, people are so excited to have him back. He claims to be naturally shy but you'd never know from the way he goes out of his way to greet everyone with a handshake or a wave. He's also one of the co-facilitators of our AVP workshops having led them for 15 years in prisons around Canada.
At the office:
Andrew is sort of an honorary workcamper. He's a mzungu like us but is here for a much longer time. I think he arrived in March and will be here for a year or two helping HROC and FWA write and secure grants. He's sharing his room with John while we're here and the four of us eat most of our meals together and have already had several adventures as you've heard. Eventually once we start actually building Andrew will stay at the office to do his real work. He's been doing a pretty amazing job of teaching himself both French and Kirundi, having earlier in his life learned Spanish and Chinese. In fact I think his comprehension of what people tell us is usually better than mine. I prefer to think that this makes him a sort of language prodigy rather than making me, after 3 years of French, a language dunce.
Adrien works for HROC coordinating everything under the sun, facilitation both AVP and HROC workshops. He is married with four children and is in the process of building a new house in Kamenge. He met his wife during the two years he was displaced from his home by the war and was staying with her family. He has a great sense of humor and if ever he decides to give up on this whole saving his country thing, he has a future as an actor. In his spare time he's putting himself through school.
Dr. Alexia is the doctor for the clinic and also part of AGLI. She is also the clerk of the Kamenge Friends church so she pretty much knows everyone and everything that goes on there. She and her husband Charles are currently taking care of 10 children on behalf of family, friends and the community.
Desire I've already spoken of a bit. It's usually his desk in the office I camp myself at once he's gone home for the night. He is not married and is much teased by all and sundry about it.
Jocelyne sort of bounces back and forth between the office here and the clinic at Kamenge. She's married with 2 children. I've almost never seen her without a smile on her face. Among her many responsibilities she helps to get the lunches together for everyone working at the clinic.
Marcelline is Pastor Elie's wife, they have 5 children. She goes to school in the evenings and is very excited about her studies. I think both she and Jocelyne work for FWA which is just across the courtyard from the AGLI/HROC office.
Pastor Elie is the only Burundian I have ever met who has turned down a Fanta. He's trying to be careful of his sugar intake. He's the pastor of the Rohero Friend's Church in the courtyard. He's been an incredible host to us, arranging the Independence Day celebrations and generally checking in to make sure we have everything we need.
In Kamenge:
Marie Claire and Maxime are nurses at the clinic. Marie Claire speaks not only the usual Kirundi, Swahili & French but also Kinyarwanda & English. She has the perfect countenace for a nurse, totally calm and patient and kind. Maxime used to be a soldier in the national army and is proud of that though now he's turned his life in different directions. He's maybe the most expressive speaker I've ever met in my life. He too may have a future on the stage.
Joyce works for FWA and has the best English of all the people we've met. She lived in England for a year studying Quakerism. She attends the church here at Rohero and hopefully will be able to do some translating of the services for us.
Samuel is the head carpenter for the building and also lives in a sectioned of corner of the meeting room at night to keep a watch on the building. They've have some troubles with theft of building materials and kids throwing rocks.
There are actually more but I must go to sleep. A demain.
The AGLI workcampers:
Vanessa (Red) is 23 and a college student in Monteray, California. She'll be graduation this December. Red comes from a family of 28 (!) kids. Her parents (mother white, father black) had five of their own and then adopted 23 more, including Red. She's majoring in Business but is hoping to join the Peace Corps next year and come back to Africa.
John McKendy is a Sociology professor from Canada. Though he denies it, he has been known to say both 'eh' and 'aboat' (for about). John came to this same workcamp last year and everywhere we go, people are so excited to have him back. He claims to be naturally shy but you'd never know from the way he goes out of his way to greet everyone with a handshake or a wave. He's also one of the co-facilitators of our AVP workshops having led them for 15 years in prisons around Canada.
At the office:
Andrew is sort of an honorary workcamper. He's a mzungu like us but is here for a much longer time. I think he arrived in March and will be here for a year or two helping HROC and FWA write and secure grants. He's sharing his room with John while we're here and the four of us eat most of our meals together and have already had several adventures as you've heard. Eventually once we start actually building Andrew will stay at the office to do his real work. He's been doing a pretty amazing job of teaching himself both French and Kirundi, having earlier in his life learned Spanish and Chinese. In fact I think his comprehension of what people tell us is usually better than mine. I prefer to think that this makes him a sort of language prodigy rather than making me, after 3 years of French, a language dunce.
Adrien works for HROC coordinating everything under the sun, facilitation both AVP and HROC workshops. He is married with four children and is in the process of building a new house in Kamenge. He met his wife during the two years he was displaced from his home by the war and was staying with her family. He has a great sense of humor and if ever he decides to give up on this whole saving his country thing, he has a future as an actor. In his spare time he's putting himself through school.
Dr. Alexia is the doctor for the clinic and also part of AGLI. She is also the clerk of the Kamenge Friends church so she pretty much knows everyone and everything that goes on there. She and her husband Charles are currently taking care of 10 children on behalf of family, friends and the community.
Desire I've already spoken of a bit. It's usually his desk in the office I camp myself at once he's gone home for the night. He is not married and is much teased by all and sundry about it.
Jocelyne sort of bounces back and forth between the office here and the clinic at Kamenge. She's married with 2 children. I've almost never seen her without a smile on her face. Among her many responsibilities she helps to get the lunches together for everyone working at the clinic.
Marcelline is Pastor Elie's wife, they have 5 children. She goes to school in the evenings and is very excited about her studies. I think both she and Jocelyne work for FWA which is just across the courtyard from the AGLI/HROC office.
Pastor Elie is the only Burundian I have ever met who has turned down a Fanta. He's trying to be careful of his sugar intake. He's the pastor of the Rohero Friend's Church in the courtyard. He's been an incredible host to us, arranging the Independence Day celebrations and generally checking in to make sure we have everything we need.
In Kamenge:
Marie Claire and Maxime are nurses at the clinic. Marie Claire speaks not only the usual Kirundi, Swahili & French but also Kinyarwanda & English. She has the perfect countenace for a nurse, totally calm and patient and kind. Maxime used to be a soldier in the national army and is proud of that though now he's turned his life in different directions. He's maybe the most expressive speaker I've ever met in my life. He too may have a future on the stage.
Joyce works for FWA and has the best English of all the people we've met. She lived in England for a year studying Quakerism. She attends the church here at Rohero and hopefully will be able to do some translating of the services for us.
Samuel is the head carpenter for the building and also lives in a sectioned of corner of the meeting room at night to keep a watch on the building. They've have some troubles with theft of building materials and kids throwing rocks.
There are actually more but I must go to sleep. A demain.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
The opposite of scurvy
If there is a disease one could get from eating too much fruit (please no one tell me there is) I'd probably be in trouble. We have fresh fruit at every meal- pineapple, papaya, mango or oranges. I have to say that when it's pineapple I am not shy at all about asking if the others are going to finish their slices and sighing deep inward sighs if they do. All the fruit is incredibly delicious and was probably grown within 50 miles or so and brought down from the mountain piled in an impossible way on the back of a bicycle.
The amount and kinds of things you see strapped on the backs (and fronts and sides) of bicycles here would make John Musial remove his bike helmet in a gesture of respect and awe. Manioc bunches higher than the cyclist's head (manioc- looks like a green banana, tastes like a potato), dozens of ten foot lengths of PVC tubing, grandmothers sitting sideways on the rack, children in upside down chairs lashed to the back and perhaps my favorite, a live goat. I've looked at these bikes up close and they're mostly very worn, repaired with all kinds of spare parts and the bike rack is made of wrought iron grating. Coming down the mountains is pretty easy, they don't even have to touch the pedals and could ride side saddle like grandma if they wanted. Going up is another story. They have to walk them up unless they catch hold of a passing truck. The trucks will often have a large tree branch stuck through various handles on the back and I can't tell if this is meant to make it easier or harder to grab hold but sometimes as many as five bikes will be in tow.
I noticed that I hadn't seen any women on bicylces (aside from passengers riding on the back) and asked Alexia about it. She said the bicycles are mostly used for transporting things or people and this is not work that women do. But I've also seen men who appear just to be commuting to work and since women do work outside the home I wonder why they don't bike instead of walking or taking the bus.
'Cause let me tell you about the bus. I don't think there is a bus company, just a bunch of people with blue and white vans stuffed full of seats, each with a name custom painted on the back. Things like 'Grace a Dieu' & 'Ami de Jesus.' Inside there are five rows of seats, seating for one on the left, for two on the right. Once these seats are filled and the whole back row of five, the next person to get on flips down a jump seat which takes up the whole aisle between the second to last row and two people will sit on that, then the next person flips down the next jump seat and so on until the van is packed. The buses have something like a regular route going between the outer districts and downtown but there's no regulation of how many buses go which ways. I think the first person to get on says where he's going and the driver and conductor go around until they fill up the bus and then go downtown or to Kamenge or wherever. Adrien says you can get on a bus anywhere along the route. They want to be as full as possible so they're happy to stop and let you on. Getting off you have to do at certain designated places. Though by designated I don't mean that there are signs or anything. You just know. So pretty much the best thing is to get on a bus that's almost full, otherwise you'll have to Chinese puzzle your way out plus who knows how long you'll be looking for more people to full the bus. So that's how we'll be getting to and from Kamenge every day.
By the way, I guess we were on the Burundian news last night. Alexia saw footage of me dancing in a sort of conga line with the Minister of Youth and Culture and some of our other friends said they saw footage of us on the grandstand. We were easy to pick out because A. We were among the few- though not only- white people and B. Andrew is very, very tall. It's absurd of course, but. Think about what would happen if 4 middle class black people came to a country where almost everyone else was white. Then think about what that says about the world.
The amount and kinds of things you see strapped on the backs (and fronts and sides) of bicycles here would make John Musial remove his bike helmet in a gesture of respect and awe. Manioc bunches higher than the cyclist's head (manioc- looks like a green banana, tastes like a potato), dozens of ten foot lengths of PVC tubing, grandmothers sitting sideways on the rack, children in upside down chairs lashed to the back and perhaps my favorite, a live goat. I've looked at these bikes up close and they're mostly very worn, repaired with all kinds of spare parts and the bike rack is made of wrought iron grating. Coming down the mountains is pretty easy, they don't even have to touch the pedals and could ride side saddle like grandma if they wanted. Going up is another story. They have to walk them up unless they catch hold of a passing truck. The trucks will often have a large tree branch stuck through various handles on the back and I can't tell if this is meant to make it easier or harder to grab hold but sometimes as many as five bikes will be in tow.
I noticed that I hadn't seen any women on bicylces (aside from passengers riding on the back) and asked Alexia about it. She said the bicycles are mostly used for transporting things or people and this is not work that women do. But I've also seen men who appear just to be commuting to work and since women do work outside the home I wonder why they don't bike instead of walking or taking the bus.
'Cause let me tell you about the bus. I don't think there is a bus company, just a bunch of people with blue and white vans stuffed full of seats, each with a name custom painted on the back. Things like 'Grace a Dieu' & 'Ami de Jesus.' Inside there are five rows of seats, seating for one on the left, for two on the right. Once these seats are filled and the whole back row of five, the next person to get on flips down a jump seat which takes up the whole aisle between the second to last row and two people will sit on that, then the next person flips down the next jump seat and so on until the van is packed. The buses have something like a regular route going between the outer districts and downtown but there's no regulation of how many buses go which ways. I think the first person to get on says where he's going and the driver and conductor go around until they fill up the bus and then go downtown or to Kamenge or wherever. Adrien says you can get on a bus anywhere along the route. They want to be as full as possible so they're happy to stop and let you on. Getting off you have to do at certain designated places. Though by designated I don't mean that there are signs or anything. You just know. So pretty much the best thing is to get on a bus that's almost full, otherwise you'll have to Chinese puzzle your way out plus who knows how long you'll be looking for more people to full the bus. So that's how we'll be getting to and from Kamenge every day.
By the way, I guess we were on the Burundian news last night. Alexia saw footage of me dancing in a sort of conga line with the Minister of Youth and Culture and some of our other friends said they saw footage of us on the grandstand. We were easy to pick out because A. We were among the few- though not only- white people and B. Andrew is very, very tall. It's absurd of course, but. Think about what would happen if 4 middle class black people came to a country where almost everyone else was white. Then think about what that says about the world.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Happy Burundian Independence Day!
So what I really need is a day of thinking, processing and writing for every day of being here. The trouble is, all there are is days of being here with new things happening ALL THE TIME! And once again I'm so tired and brain full I can't begin to think of saying everything but I do want to try and capture some things while they're still fresh. My journal entries these days are full of one disjointed snippet of an image after another.
For now here are a few quick stories from the past two days.
Up country (pretty much anywhere outside of Bujumbura and Bujumbura Rural) is stunningly beautiful. It's very hilly, in some places mountainy, country and absolutely everything is green except the roads which are deep rusty red (like Georgia or Kauaii) and the clothinges of the women which are every other bright color under the sun. We drove for about 2 hours, much of the way on unpaved, twisting roads. Fidele, who drove, could medal in mountain driving and that the little Toyota we were riding in was up for the challenge is the best commericial they could ask for. We were going to Muhero because Adrien needed to meet with some pastors of the Friends church there about a project they were working on together. We passed many new homes being built alongside the ruins of those which had been destroyed in the fighting. On the way Adrien pointed out a place where there is an IDP camp (Internally Displaced Persons) for people who had to leave their homes during the civil war. Many still live in it and now consider the area their home. Recently he facilitated a HROC workshop there, bringing togetherHutu and Tutsi to begin the process of reconciliation on a local level. The participants told him the pain was still very raw for them because very close by was a mass grave where many of their loved ones were shallowly buried, the victims of a single day's violence which killed 300 people. They wanted to bury the bodies properly but needed the assistance and permission of the government because the task is so large. So now Adrien is trying to think of ways to help them do that but the issue is complicated by a number of factors and really needs a whole person (or several people) just devoted to it.
OK these were supposed to be quick stories. From today I'll say that we celebrated Independence Day in high style. When I packed clothes for this trip I planned for mostly manual labor with one or two nice things for church on Sunday and weddings. I did not pack for "seat on the parade grandstand with high ranking government officials" followed by "evening reception for the President" with ambassadors and so on. So wedding ensemble it was and hope for the best.
2 quick things from the reception then I must start cycling down so I can have some hope of going to sleep. Hard to turn the brain off when it's whirring with so many thoughts. Burundians have a long tradition of drumming and we saw what I'm guessing is the best drum troupe in the country. The thing is, it's not only drumming but an amazing combination of drumming, singing, dancing and acrobatics with some storytelling thown in for good measure. They enter balancing the drums on their heads while playing them and the front drummer also kicks his foot up high enough to touch the drum every few steps. Once they've processed in they place the drums in a semi circle and the serious drumming begins. The drums are pretty big (made from tree trunks, more on that in a second) and the sound is huge, the same deep booming that resonates in your chest when you hear fireworks from close up. They' re made from a special kind of tree and Elie told us that even if you have one of these trees in your yard it doesn't belong to you, it belongs to the drummers and when it's mature the goverment will come and take the tree so it can be made into drums. There's some dancing by the drummers themselves while they're at the drums and there are also separate dancers who execute improbably high leaps, backflips and back somersaults in the air. Just spectacular. After the performance when the President made the rounds to meet people, John and Andrew got to shake his hand, this is the president of the country, mind you. I missed out because I was too busy dancing with the Minister of Youth and Culture. Not how I'd ever pictured spending an evening when I left.
Still I'm glad that our actual work begins tomorrow. I mean our actual tangible work, I do feel we've been accomplishing tiny, nebulous things all along. It's time to start really earning our beautiful, warm welcome.
For now here are a few quick stories from the past two days.
Up country (pretty much anywhere outside of Bujumbura and Bujumbura Rural) is stunningly beautiful. It's very hilly, in some places mountainy, country and absolutely everything is green except the roads which are deep rusty red (like Georgia or Kauaii) and the clothinges of the women which are every other bright color under the sun. We drove for about 2 hours, much of the way on unpaved, twisting roads. Fidele, who drove, could medal in mountain driving and that the little Toyota we were riding in was up for the challenge is the best commericial they could ask for. We were going to Muhero because Adrien needed to meet with some pastors of the Friends church there about a project they were working on together. We passed many new homes being built alongside the ruins of those which had been destroyed in the fighting. On the way Adrien pointed out a place where there is an IDP camp (Internally Displaced Persons) for people who had to leave their homes during the civil war. Many still live in it and now consider the area their home. Recently he facilitated a HROC workshop there, bringing togetherHutu and Tutsi to begin the process of reconciliation on a local level. The participants told him the pain was still very raw for them because very close by was a mass grave where many of their loved ones were shallowly buried, the victims of a single day's violence which killed 300 people. They wanted to bury the bodies properly but needed the assistance and permission of the government because the task is so large. So now Adrien is trying to think of ways to help them do that but the issue is complicated by a number of factors and really needs a whole person (or several people) just devoted to it.
OK these were supposed to be quick stories. From today I'll say that we celebrated Independence Day in high style. When I packed clothes for this trip I planned for mostly manual labor with one or two nice things for church on Sunday and weddings. I did not pack for "seat on the parade grandstand with high ranking government officials" followed by "evening reception for the President" with ambassadors and so on. So wedding ensemble it was and hope for the best.
2 quick things from the reception then I must start cycling down so I can have some hope of going to sleep. Hard to turn the brain off when it's whirring with so many thoughts. Burundians have a long tradition of drumming and we saw what I'm guessing is the best drum troupe in the country. The thing is, it's not only drumming but an amazing combination of drumming, singing, dancing and acrobatics with some storytelling thown in for good measure. They enter balancing the drums on their heads while playing them and the front drummer also kicks his foot up high enough to touch the drum every few steps. Once they've processed in they place the drums in a semi circle and the serious drumming begins. The drums are pretty big (made from tree trunks, more on that in a second) and the sound is huge, the same deep booming that resonates in your chest when you hear fireworks from close up. They' re made from a special kind of tree and Elie told us that even if you have one of these trees in your yard it doesn't belong to you, it belongs to the drummers and when it's mature the goverment will come and take the tree so it can be made into drums. There's some dancing by the drummers themselves while they're at the drums and there are also separate dancers who execute improbably high leaps, backflips and back somersaults in the air. Just spectacular. After the performance when the President made the rounds to meet people, John and Andrew got to shake his hand, this is the president of the country, mind you. I missed out because I was too busy dancing with the Minister of Youth and Culture. Not how I'd ever pictured spending an evening when I left.
Still I'm glad that our actual work begins tomorrow. I mean our actual tangible work, I do feel we've been accomplishing tiny, nebulous things all along. It's time to start really earning our beautiful, warm welcome.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)