I'll be posting on Saturday this week! Sorry for the delay and much love! :)
Jen
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Student Needs
Hello All!
So many of you have asked about things I and my students can use. While I'll email you about things I'd like, I'll post here things that my students definitely could use. A word of warning, a friend of mine says that a package from Pennsylvania costs about $9-15 without insurance through USPS to ship, so please don't spend any more than that. Also, if you are sending books, it's actually better that they are used. I've found that people are less likely to use things if they are new, because they want to keep them new... so if you send something that's a little beat up, it's just fine. And thank you again for everything.
Much love,
jen
My address:
Jennifer Keene
L'Ecole des Sciences de Musanze
B.P. 92
Ruhengeri
RWANDA
Frisbees (used is fine!)
So many of you have asked about things I and my students can use. While I'll email you about things I'd like, I'll post here things that my students definitely could use. A word of warning, a friend of mine says that a package from Pennsylvania costs about $9-15 without insurance through USPS to ship, so please don't spend any more than that. Also, if you are sending books, it's actually better that they are used. I've found that people are less likely to use things if they are new, because they want to keep them new... so if you send something that's a little beat up, it's just fine. And thank you again for everything.
Much love,
jen
My address:
Jennifer Keene
L'Ecole des Sciences de Musanze
B.P. 92
Ruhengeri
RWANDA
Needs:
Pen-pals
English kids books, particularly lower level chapter books or teen literature
French-English dictionaries (used)
English dictionaries and English Thesauri (used)
English Bibles (used)
Easy puzzle books (with word finds, easy English crossword puzzles, soduku, or travel games… those that you can get at the dollar store – partially used is fine!)
Newspapers (any)
Magazines (any)
Markers (any brand)
Decks of cards or old board gamesFrisbees (used is fine!)
Remembrance Day...
It’s humbling to accept that some days, your presence, your simple being, is the most powerful thing you can do. Trained in political science and a junkie of rhetorical flourishes, it is often difficult to imagine, but also strangely comforting, that my presence trumps any words I could put together. April in Rwanda is Genocide Remembrance Month and 2009 marks the 15th anniversary of the terrible 100 days of 1994. I've visited the memorials and I've read the books, and I still cannot grasp the enormity of the civil war and slaughter. This is why, when we left for our school vacation, I was positive I did not want to participate actively in the events on April 7, Remembrance Day. How could I possibly grieve for a tragedy that is not my own? And if I could not grieve, how could I have the right to stand next to those who lost their entire families? It felt voyeuristic. It felt wrong.
My friend Rachael didn’t see it this way, however. “I want to go,” she said, “I don’t know, I just want to be there.” I understood that Rachael wanted to pay respect but I still felt uncomfortable. Part of it, I realize now, was fear; fear that my presence would be misinterpreted as morbid curiosity, or worse, grotesque tourism, fear that we would witness the violent outbreaks or intense flashbacks that from time to time disrupt proceedings at this time of year. We agreed on a compromise, to go together to the National Stadium the night before Remembrance Day to take part in a few hours of the all-night vigil leading up to the official ceremonies.
When we arrived at the Stadium Monday night however, the vigil had been moved (or canceled or never existed… it’s hard to tell how planning works here sometimes) and we found volunteers completing the set-up for the next day. Kids were playing on the field, adults were chatting while they arranged gas lamps, pop music was playing in the background. I looked at Rachael. I don’t know about her, but I was incredibly relieved. This didn't look like the dark and somber services I was told to expect. I can do this, I thought.
We got word that the memorial at the stadium had been moved to the evening of Remembrance Day and another ceremony would be held at the mass graves across the city in the morning. Still slightly reluctantly, Rachael and I started out from our friend Gina's the next morning for the first of the ceremonies. We left Gina's house pretty late, and I couldn't tell if it was because we both were actually tired, or still a little uncomfortable. It didn't matter though, because after the two hours it took for us to wind our way through the closed streets, the President had finished speaking and the ceremony was over. We stood at the memorial, as everyone began filing away from the site, two late muzungus in a crowd moving the opposite direction. It didn't feel much like paying respects, but at least we had made the effort.
As the crowd dissipated, we walked away from the site. A few people were exiting to the right, a mass was exiting to the left. Lost, Rachael and I followed the crowd to the left. What we figured out after about 30 minutes of walking was that we were going the wrong way. I took a chance and walked up to two smartly dressed gentlemen in their parked car. "Excuse me sir, can you tell me how to get back to town?"
The driver laughed. "Town? It's the other way. Right now, you're half way to Burundi!" I must have looked like I was about to collapse. He added, "Get in. If you don't mind us stopping shortly, we can take you back. We're just waiting on my wife and a friend. Come on in, feel free."
Rachael and I got in the car. While in most countries this is an absolute no-go, Rwandese hospitality is not something to turn down. The men introduced themselves as Egide and Innocent, and soon Egide's wife, Francoise, and their friend Jacqui joined us in the car. The short stop Egide noted turned out to be an excursion for beer and soda at a nearby restaurant. Although most businesses were closed for the day, Egide told us that the restaurant was owned by a family friend and was near the site where most of their family was killed. In Kinyarwanda, over his drink, Egide and the restaurant owner discussed the memorial they wanted to create in the next few years. When business was done, he added, "What do you have to eat?" "We do not have food today, sir," the restaurant owner said. "No food?! Well we must go elsewhere! Come on girls, back in the car!"
Rachael and I spent six hours with Egide, Innocent, Francoise, and Jacqui. When our late lunch was finished, I worked up the courage to say how thankful I was that we were invited to share in what was such a difficult and important day. "It's hard for us, as outsiders, to understand and to share," I said, "and I'm very thankful and humbled that you took us in today." Egide sighed. "We are thankful to have you, Jennifer. It's ok that you don't understand. We don't understand either. But you're here. And you show that others know what happened here."
Rachael and I went to the Stadium after our time with Egide and his family to share in the candlelight vigil. Although much of the night was calm, a survivor spoke just as the lights went out, and the traumatic episodes began. Wailing broke out from one corner of the stadium and screams began from the other. Clusters of people could be seen running to surround those screaming. People were being carried out right and left. It was one of the difficult moments of my life. I wanted to run away. We waited until the last candle on the center field was lit and we left.
Going home, I was angry that more wasn't being done to relieve these people of these nightmarish situations. I was saddened that all I could do was be a bystander. And I was silenced because I didn't know how to talk to Rachael about what we experienced and I didn't know if it even needed to be talked about. But on the way home, I thought about what Egide said. "It's ok if you don't understand... but you're here."
In the two weeks since Remembrance Day, I've had a difficult time writing, let alone thinking, about the day. And I don't really have any closing remarks or fancy way of closing this entry. But I do know that if I'm ever in a situation where I'm faced with the decision of showing up or staying home, I'm going to show up. Some days, all you can do is "be." And some days, that's all that's needed.
much love,
jen
On Materialism and Martyrdom...
So, I went to Uganda during our spring break and two things completely blew me away: Ugandans speak English and the everything was half price. Forget the cultural immersion I'm usually looking for when I travel to another country, hanging out in a city with a movie theatre, Mexican restaurant, and signs that I can read was my idea of heaven. More salsa with my chips? Yes please.
I didn't realize how utterly exhausted I was from the past four months until Rachael and I boarded the bus for Kampala, Uganda's capital city. We watched the beautiful Rwandan countryside flatten out, and reaching the checkpoint, we left the bus to get our passports stamped and walk across the Ugandan boarder. Rachael and I looked at each other; although all we did was physically cross a bridge, it felt more like we had crossed into another world. Here was a new country without the tremendous responsibilities we were leaving behind for a few days. We were ecstatic.
Although we had planned take a number of "cultural excursions" out of Kampala, the idea was quickly scrapped when we reached the city. We needed some time to relax, to do whatever we wanted to with our time. We needed to shop.
The prices of everything in Rwanda is comparable to the United States: Coke is a dollar, pasta is two dollars, going out to dinner, if you do it right, is about five dollars. The prices of everything in Uganda was half to a quarter of that: Coke is 25 cents, a nice dinner out was about three dollars, and if you bargained, everything could be less. We couldn't believe it.
I spent my first term in Rwanda trying my best to live like my students. I didn't buy any cooking utensils. I kept my room simple, with only the things I brought with me. I didn't decorate except with some pictures my best friend was kind enough to give me for Christmas (thank you Sara!) I didn't go out to dinner. I didn't buy shampoo when I was running out and instead used bar soap. I didn't travel often, and I didn't treat myself to anything more than Coca-cola (which explains why I'm intimately acquainted with the price of Coke here, there, and everywhere!) And in all of this, I thought I was doing my job. I'm here to teach, to be a part of the community. I'm not here to live like I fortunately do in the United States. I have so much. I can do without it.
What I thought I was doing by denying myself many of these things I'm so used to, was fully experiencing my time in Rwanda. In some sort of twisted logic, I felt like I was giving of myself even more if I didn't give in to the material things. What I realized in Kampala was that I was actually just making myself miserable. Living without a radio, just because a radio cost 10 dollars, meant I had no connection with the outside world when I wasn't able to reach the internet. Living without a hot plate and pan meant that I was completely dependent on the people I live with to provide my food, and meant that I had no control over what I ate or when (or, as you'll see when I finally post pictures, how much I ate! Let's just say I've gained some weight...) It was in this twisted logic that I felt guilty asking for things from home and have told many of you that I didn't need care packages (which I'll be writing about shortly!).
While there are many things one can live without, I realized with our time in Kampala that taking care of myself is a integral part of the job I came here to do. The less stress I have at home when I return to my little room, the less stress I carry into the classroom. The more time I spend taking care of myself daily, the more time I can spend doing extra things for my students and colleagues more efficiently.
When I returned to school Monday, it felt like a new life. In Kampala, I bit the bullet and purchased a hot plate, cooking utensils, a radio, two baskets, new washcloths, and various things to clean my apartment. I stole two magazines from a restaurant and put up pictures on the wall. I disinfected the walls of my room (it's the rainy season, so mold grows pretty regularly...) and I lay down on my bed, listening to BBC. It was heaven.
Surrounded by things that make my life easier, I realized, may be a little selfish. It certainly is a little materialistic - to think these things make me happier. But I'm ok with it. Because I certainly cannot take care of anyone else, if I'm not taking care of myself as well.
Much love, take care, and buy yourself a Coke today. :)
Jen
I didn't realize how utterly exhausted I was from the past four months until Rachael and I boarded the bus for Kampala, Uganda's capital city. We watched the beautiful Rwandan countryside flatten out, and reaching the checkpoint, we left the bus to get our passports stamped and walk across the Ugandan boarder. Rachael and I looked at each other; although all we did was physically cross a bridge, it felt more like we had crossed into another world. Here was a new country without the tremendous responsibilities we were leaving behind for a few days. We were ecstatic.
Although we had planned take a number of "cultural excursions" out of Kampala, the idea was quickly scrapped when we reached the city. We needed some time to relax, to do whatever we wanted to with our time. We needed to shop.
The prices of everything in Rwanda is comparable to the United States: Coke is a dollar, pasta is two dollars, going out to dinner, if you do it right, is about five dollars. The prices of everything in Uganda was half to a quarter of that: Coke is 25 cents, a nice dinner out was about three dollars, and if you bargained, everything could be less. We couldn't believe it.
I spent my first term in Rwanda trying my best to live like my students. I didn't buy any cooking utensils. I kept my room simple, with only the things I brought with me. I didn't decorate except with some pictures my best friend was kind enough to give me for Christmas (thank you Sara!) I didn't go out to dinner. I didn't buy shampoo when I was running out and instead used bar soap. I didn't travel often, and I didn't treat myself to anything more than Coca-cola (which explains why I'm intimately acquainted with the price of Coke here, there, and everywhere!) And in all of this, I thought I was doing my job. I'm here to teach, to be a part of the community. I'm not here to live like I fortunately do in the United States. I have so much. I can do without it.
What I thought I was doing by denying myself many of these things I'm so used to, was fully experiencing my time in Rwanda. In some sort of twisted logic, I felt like I was giving of myself even more if I didn't give in to the material things. What I realized in Kampala was that I was actually just making myself miserable. Living without a radio, just because a radio cost 10 dollars, meant I had no connection with the outside world when I wasn't able to reach the internet. Living without a hot plate and pan meant that I was completely dependent on the people I live with to provide my food, and meant that I had no control over what I ate or when (or, as you'll see when I finally post pictures, how much I ate! Let's just say I've gained some weight...) It was in this twisted logic that I felt guilty asking for things from home and have told many of you that I didn't need care packages (which I'll be writing about shortly!).
While there are many things one can live without, I realized with our time in Kampala that taking care of myself is a integral part of the job I came here to do. The less stress I have at home when I return to my little room, the less stress I carry into the classroom. The more time I spend taking care of myself daily, the more time I can spend doing extra things for my students and colleagues more efficiently.
When I returned to school Monday, it felt like a new life. In Kampala, I bit the bullet and purchased a hot plate, cooking utensils, a radio, two baskets, new washcloths, and various things to clean my apartment. I stole two magazines from a restaurant and put up pictures on the wall. I disinfected the walls of my room (it's the rainy season, so mold grows pretty regularly...) and I lay down on my bed, listening to BBC. It was heaven.
Surrounded by things that make my life easier, I realized, may be a little selfish. It certainly is a little materialistic - to think these things make me happier. But I'm ok with it. Because I certainly cannot take care of anyone else, if I'm not taking care of myself as well.
Much love, take care, and buy yourself a Coke today. :)
Jen
Apologies and Catch Up...
Hello All!
About time, eh?! I know, I know... it's been waaay too long since I updated my blog. I never intended to stay away this long.
To catch you up with the last few weeks, I'll summarize and spare you the gory details! I:
*battled food poisoning
*survived the flu with a fever of 102 (after an eventful trip to the doctor, which consisted of him sticking a thermometer under my arm-literally, that’s the full extent of my medical evaluation)
*made it through two weeks of intense exams and close to 800 exams to grade (FWEW! :) )
*left on vacation to Kigali (thank goodness!!)
*visited Uganda (including Jinja, the site of the source of the River Nile, on which we took a boat ride on Easter!)
*traveled to Kibuye, Rwanda on Lake Kivu (into which we dove, and perhaps now have schistosomaisis... I'll look out for a rash soon...)
and started Term 2 back at school.
In being so remiss with my posting, I'm adding two other postings today, plus a list of things I could use for my students. Thank you so much for your patience and support again, and happy late Easter!!!
Love,
jen
About time, eh?! I know, I know... it's been waaay too long since I updated my blog. I never intended to stay away this long.
To catch you up with the last few weeks, I'll summarize and spare you the gory details! I:
*battled food poisoning
*survived the flu with a fever of 102 (after an eventful trip to the doctor, which consisted of him sticking a thermometer under my arm-literally, that’s the full extent of my medical evaluation)
*made it through two weeks of intense exams and close to 800 exams to grade (FWEW! :) )
*left on vacation to Kigali (thank goodness!!)
*visited Uganda (including Jinja, the site of the source of the River Nile, on which we took a boat ride on Easter!)
*traveled to Kibuye, Rwanda on Lake Kivu (into which we dove, and perhaps now have schistosomaisis... I'll look out for a rash soon...)
and started Term 2 back at school.
In being so remiss with my posting, I'm adding two other postings today, plus a list of things I could use for my students. Thank you so much for your patience and support again, and happy late Easter!!!
Love,
jen
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)