WOOHOOOOOO! Impact assessment officially finished. Today I actually got dizzy from staring at Excel spreadsheets for too long. I had to go walk around because my eyes were starting to freak out. But it is done: report written, appendices compiled. We present the research to the CEO, CFO, COO etc. tomorrow, which should be fine. I basically know everything by heart at this point. It feels good to have actually finished something, statistically unreliable though it may be… Our data wasn’t really clean enough to do any regression analysis, so we put everything in charts and graphs and used summary stats, which is fine because the purpose of this assessment is mainly for publicity and grant application purposes. I will see if I can get permission to put some of the findings on here, so you can check it out. Plus, this means that I can be done with work on Friday, so I can leave this weekend to travel! Here’s what I will be doing:
At the beginning of next week I’m going to climb Mt. Karisimbi, a volcano in the north of Rwanda on the border with DRC, near where the gorillas are. The climb takes a couple days and you sleep in huts on the top. It should be pretty genius. I’m going with one of the girls from Quebec who will be here for two more weeks. After we climb the volcano, we’re going to Uganda. We will go to Kabale, a town near the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest. We will penetrate the impenetrable forest. There’s also a lake there, Lake Bunyoni, that is supposed to be amazing. There are some traditional Batwa communities in that area, and if there’s a discreet way to see them I really want to. Sometimes I feel like things like that are a “people safari” and that it’s really insulting for all these white people to come and take photos, buy weird-looking masks, and then leave with really no understanding of the culture at all. It’s the worst part of globalization. But, at the same time, there are communities whose economies rely on selling things to tourists, and sometimes when I’ve taken pictures with the village women at community bank meetings, they really love it. So I don’t know, I guess I will have to feel it out. From Kabale I’ll go to Kampala and Entebbe, and then to the Ssese Islands in Lake Victoria. If there’s time, I might go to Jinja and see the source of the Nile. It’s kind of far, though, and a major tourist destination (with good reason) but I’m kind of in the mood for more off-the-beaten-path type things. But, after Kabale I’ll be traveling on my own, so if off-the-beaten-path seems dangerous, then a lame tourist I will be. If anyone out there has been to Uganda, I would love some suggestions/input so I don’t rely solely on Lonely Planet.
I had kind of a cool experience after work, which I will attempt to relate, even though I feel like most of the stories like this that people try to tell never really hit on the main point. Anyway. Downtown (mu mugi) near my office, there are lots of mizungu offices. USAID, UN High Commission for Refugees, World Food Programme, Oxfam, HOPE International, and some embassies have their offices in the area where I work. And it’s in the financial district, so the government always has people cleaning things and it’s basically too beautiful and clean to be a third-world capital. So, sometimes, I feel like when I’m in town, I’m in pretend Africa or something, because it’s just weird. It does a nice job of exposing the paradoxes and ironies of Africa, though. Like the huge fountain in the roundabout that somehow always has water in it even though our running water at the house has worked a total of four days since I’ve been here. I see people with jerry cans going to get water from the fountain. And then the police chase them away. But they always come back, and the third or fourth time, the police are like, whatever, I’m not getting up again, just take the water, I don’t really care. It’s a great relationship.
That tangent was just to illustrate the fact that sometimes I feel like there is a whole city, an entire society, that lives right alongside the town that you see when you walk down the street. But you can’t find it if you don’t know where to look. I have had some glimpses of it, but it only ever appears when I’m with a Rwandese. Somehow, I can never manage to find it on my own. This mysterious city hides behind the visible shops and offices, and you have to access it through specific alley ways. But once you’re back there, it’s pretty amazing. I was first initiated when Marie, a lady from work, took me to her tailor to get a dress made. I would never be able to find the place on my own, even though it’s less than five minutes from my office. We took tons of turns down a really narrow alley/drainage ditch and arrived at a tailor, and it was like a whole other world. That’s really contrived, I know, but I’m not sure how else to describe it. Anyway, today I went hunting for a sweater after work because I need something really warm for the volcano. I went around to a few shops, but none of them had anything, and finally I found a guy who spoke French. I explained to him what I was looking for, and he took me out the back of his shop and around the block to another place. They didn’t have anything either, but one of the guys who worked there took me to another place he knew of, and so on a few more times. By the end we were so deep in the secret city that I had no idea which way was out. But I did eventually find a woman who sold sweaters, and I ended up with a cute green button-up wool sweater from… Old Navy. Where else? And either Old Navy is a luxury brand here, or they thought I was the biggest idiot ever, because they tried to make me pay 30 USD. But my bargaining skills are pretty awesome. I will be really mad at fixed prices when I get back to Montreal…
So I’m deep in the invisible city, and the guy who was helping me went back to his shop, so I had to find my way out. It was pretty awesome, and on the way I found a guy who prints things on t-shirts. Megan and I want to get t-shirts made that say (in Kinyarwanda) “If you can read this, say mizungu!” I eventually found my way out, and I was right by the bus stop place. What’s weird is that I don’t know how all those people and shops fit in between the street and normal shops. The laws of physics must be different here, which would explain why people are so good at carrying things on their heads.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
August 5
Yesterday I saw the Quebec girls again. Some of them live in Montreal, and I’m really excited for us to be friends when I get back. They are awesome. It was their last day in Rwanda, so we went to the memorial in Nyamata and then to dinner. It was one of the memorials that I have seen already, but I saw it very early on in the trip, and it was actually harder to see the second time. Being here for two months and talking with people about their experiences, hearing about what happened firsthand really changed the way I related to the memorial. We were there with Asnathe, a friend of the Quebeckers who grew up in Nyamata, and during the genocide she was hiding in the forest right by this church, where thousands were massacred. Many of her family and friends died there. She told us about going into the church a few days after the massacre and seeing bodies piled halfway up to the ceiling. I was amazed at how composed she was through the whole thing, but then she told us that she goes to visit the memorial very often, so she is used to it by now. The guy who gave us a tour also grew up in Nyamata, and on the way back to Kigali we talked about what it must be like to work at a memorial like that. It is one thing to go and visit once in a while, but to have a full-time job that consists of talking about something that horrific must take a very strong character.
I have been really amazed at the way people are open about genocide here. When we were doing client interviews, there were some questions that asked about extended family, and people would just say “My entire family was murdered in ’94.” There were some people who had injuries that looked like genocide injuries, like they were missing hands or eyes or had large gashes in their heads that really looked like they were from machetes. They would just tell us “this is from genocide.” It is really hard to react in situations like that because what do you say to someone who had their head nearly cut in half by the Interahamwe? At the same time, I think it is good how the people want to tell us, they want us to go back and tell our friends, they want me to write this in my blog because they think that the more we are made aware of the atrocities that occurred, the more likely we are not to have another genocide like theirs.
After the memorial, we went to the market in Kimironko, the big market in Kigali, so they could smuggle sugar cane back to Canada. If they’re successful, I will also try to bring some back. It’s pretty great. It was fun for me to be the tour guide. I got us all on the right buses, showed them around the market, argued prices (in kinyarwanda!) and it was really great. I am just starting to feel at home here, even out in the city, and I’m sad to leave just when I’m starting to fit in (I use that term loosely…) It’s only recently that I’ve started to handle tricky situations with grace and humor. Like at the market, when you walk through the main gates, dozens of boys mob you and try to sell you bags, get you to pay them to carry your stuff, or just beg for money. It’s pretty intense, and definitely uncomfortable when you are going to a market to buy things and people ask you for money, because everyone knows that you have some so you’ve really got no good excuse. But I have several ways of accomplishing two key things: First, having a moment of shared humanity with the kids (like laughing together when they say “I want money” and I say “Oya, ndashaka amafaranga,” which means “no, I want money!”) and second, getting them to eventually leave me alone. It feels pretty great. Okay, back to the point. Then we went to dinner, had a great time, some really good goat brochettes, and banana beer. Warning: It is CALLED beer, but it’s actually 14% alcohol, which is a good thing to know BEFORE consumption. Just thought you all should be aware, you know, for next time you’re in East Africa.
I spent the whole afternoon and evening home today, which was great because I have been out a lot lately and haven’t gotten enough family/baby time. Neema and I hung out, and just talked about stuff and played with Wesley for hours. I am going to miss that baby.
I have been really amazed at the way people are open about genocide here. When we were doing client interviews, there were some questions that asked about extended family, and people would just say “My entire family was murdered in ’94.” There were some people who had injuries that looked like genocide injuries, like they were missing hands or eyes or had large gashes in their heads that really looked like they were from machetes. They would just tell us “this is from genocide.” It is really hard to react in situations like that because what do you say to someone who had their head nearly cut in half by the Interahamwe? At the same time, I think it is good how the people want to tell us, they want us to go back and tell our friends, they want me to write this in my blog because they think that the more we are made aware of the atrocities that occurred, the more likely we are not to have another genocide like theirs.
After the memorial, we went to the market in Kimironko, the big market in Kigali, so they could smuggle sugar cane back to Canada. If they’re successful, I will also try to bring some back. It’s pretty great. It was fun for me to be the tour guide. I got us all on the right buses, showed them around the market, argued prices (in kinyarwanda!) and it was really great. I am just starting to feel at home here, even out in the city, and I’m sad to leave just when I’m starting to fit in (I use that term loosely…) It’s only recently that I’ve started to handle tricky situations with grace and humor. Like at the market, when you walk through the main gates, dozens of boys mob you and try to sell you bags, get you to pay them to carry your stuff, or just beg for money. It’s pretty intense, and definitely uncomfortable when you are going to a market to buy things and people ask you for money, because everyone knows that you have some so you’ve really got no good excuse. But I have several ways of accomplishing two key things: First, having a moment of shared humanity with the kids (like laughing together when they say “I want money” and I say “Oya, ndashaka amafaranga,” which means “no, I want money!”) and second, getting them to eventually leave me alone. It feels pretty great. Okay, back to the point. Then we went to dinner, had a great time, some really good goat brochettes, and banana beer. Warning: It is CALLED beer, but it’s actually 14% alcohol, which is a good thing to know BEFORE consumption. Just thought you all should be aware, you know, for next time you’re in East Africa.
I spent the whole afternoon and evening home today, which was great because I have been out a lot lately and haven’t gotten enough family/baby time. Neema and I hung out, and just talked about stuff and played with Wesley for hours. I am going to miss that baby.
August 2
So, life is interesting sometimes. I have had some seriously philosophical talks the last few days, and many of them I haven’t yet had time to digest, but sometimes I’m not sure what I think until I try to explain it to others, so that’s what this is. I talked with Megan for a really long time, and we covered many topics from how we will become undevelopment workers in N. America to why I can never be a part of organized religion to justifications for not having sex before marriage. I am realizing (in Africa, strangely enough) that there are segments of American culture that are equally foreign to me as Rwandese culture is. It’s weird to realize that while I have no problem sitting in my Arabic classes talking with veiled women, it makes me really uncomfortable to have people greet me by saying “Praise Jesus.” Slowly, I am pinpointing why I feel that way, and it is bringing a lot of things to light.
I have learned a lot about American culture on this trip, and that is something I hadn’t expected at all. It’s weird for me to admit this, but in a way I have had a very narrow view of some ideas/philosophies/ways of life. This was shaped in part I think by growing up in Portland, by my education, by the generation I’m part of, and partly it’s just the way I make sense of the world. Ironically, the ideas I have been unwilling to entertain are ideas that the people who share my intellectual/philosophical culture (those blasted pinko hippie environmentalist freaks) love to call rigid and narrow-minded. But the truth is, I had simply never allowed myself the occasion to discuss these ideas with someone who could relate them in a logical way. I had only ever seen them put forth by crazy people (televangelists, for example) who presented them in off-putting or hateful ways, which made it very easy for me to write them off as psycho right-wing Evangelical neo-con gay-hating freaks. Much the same way they dismiss the dreadlocked vegan anti-capitalist freaks. Coincidence? I think not.
It’s very easy to ridicule an idea or a philosophy if you manage to keep your understanding of it simple and one-dimensional. Illegal immigrants would be a good example. If you remain ignorant and disconnected from them, it’s pretty easy to argue that they are a burden, that they’re the reason the public schools and emergency rooms are so overloaded, that we should ship them all back and build a wall between Mexico and the U.S. But if you actually hear them out, and realize that as long as life is bad enough in their home countries to make it worth risking their lives to come to the U.S., arguing that the solution is building a wall sounds juvenile and poorly reasoned. It’s not comfortable for me to say this, but I definitely had a (carefully-guarded) simplistic view of certain segments of American culture. Specifically, social conservatives and Evangelical Christians. I realize that these two groups do not always align on all the issues, but in general they have many points in common, so just bear with the generalization for this blog entry.
I was always taught that people are basically good, that we are all equal, that people should be judged based on their individual merit and not based on race, religion, creed, etc. My liberal education, specifically at SMA and Scripps, seemed to put forth a very relativist philosophy. Whether it was intended or not, I (and I think most of my classmates as well) came out of that with the idea that there are many points of view that command equal merit. Our teachers rarely told us that there was one right answer (except in math class) and the rule of thumb was that you can pretty much argue any viewpoint you like, and as long as your defense is clear, consistent, well-supported, well-documented and logical, you aren’t ‘wrong.’ It was the argumentation that counted most, not your premise. Which is a great way to teach kids how to analyze, how to deconstruct an argument, how to intelligently discuss nearly anything, and to equip them with the tools they need in order to weed their way through the many misleading propositions they will be confronted with both in and out of school.
But, it also creates a climate where logical, analytical argument is king, and anyone who makes the leap from logic to inherent belief loses some credibility.
Due to that basic paradigm, I pretty much viewed anyone who claimed that there was one absolute truth (religious, philosophical, moral, etc) as slightly less than credible. Same goes for hard-line social conservatives: Who gave them the right to determine what is okay for me? Isn’t that a great thing about America, that no matter your personal views or private actions (private: i.e. not harmful to the public good), you’re still entitled to the same liberties and freedoms the constitution provides? But instead of actually engaging in conversation about some of these questions, and trying to understand how they arrived at their conclusions, I decided that somehow they were less worthy of dialogue than people who shared my perspective. [I would like to put in my disclaimer now, which says that I am not necessarily any more in agreement with the aforementioned ideas than I was before this series of enlightening conversations. But I am able to entertain the thought that these ideas can have well-reasoned arguments behind them, and that not everyone who thinks this way is insane. Some of them are, to be sure, but then so was Tre Arrow.]
Megan is my window into conservative America, or Evangelical Land as she likes to refer to it. Although we are in line philosophically on many things, especially social justice issues, we come from such radically different backgrounds that we always seem to approach things from the opposite perspective, which is awesome and really interesting for both of us. For example, in our talk the other night, we somehow meandered onto the topic of abstinence. She has made the decision not to have sex before she gets married, and I asked her if she could just talk to me about how she came to that decision, etc. She did, and it was really interesting. I wasn’t raised in a culture that pushed the no-sex-before-marriage idea. It was more like no-sex-before-committed-adult-relationship. She was raised in a family/church/culture that definitely expected people to wait for marriage, but it also seems to be a very personal decision for her. She was funny about it, saying that in order to be the token prude she has to assume that role and joke about it, or else people think she’s weird, which is an awesome attitude to have. There was a serious explanation as well, which I’m probably not able to relate eloquently, but at the end of the conversation I respect her more for having that well though-out a philosophy, and the conviction to stand by it for quite possibly a long time.
The following day, I went to dinner with Megan and Janine, and a three-hour long conversation about religion and theology sprung from a question I have had for a long time: What do people mean when they say things like “by the blood of Jesus?” I seriously didn’t know what that meant. It seemed like a catchphrase to be used when you want to be dramatic. And Megan said that most Christians she knows probably don’t really know what it means either but they never ask about it in any case. In other conversations we’ve established that she has more in common with me and my questioning of religion/faith than she does with people at her church who are so sure about everything. Megan and Janine talked about their spiritual journeys and why they stick with their religions despite the fact that they have lots of criticisms of the church, its leaders, its actions, etc.
They tried to explain a lot of concepts that I’m not really sure I can understand, but it was definitely enlightening and I feel like I understand people better now. I can never explain exactly what I mean about issues like this, so I hope this was somewhat coherent at least. But, one good thing about being here is you get used to not being able to fully explain yourself, and it becomes no big deal, so oh well!
I have learned a lot about American culture on this trip, and that is something I hadn’t expected at all. It’s weird for me to admit this, but in a way I have had a very narrow view of some ideas/philosophies/ways of life. This was shaped in part I think by growing up in Portland, by my education, by the generation I’m part of, and partly it’s just the way I make sense of the world. Ironically, the ideas I have been unwilling to entertain are ideas that the people who share my intellectual/philosophical culture (those blasted pinko hippie environmentalist freaks) love to call rigid and narrow-minded. But the truth is, I had simply never allowed myself the occasion to discuss these ideas with someone who could relate them in a logical way. I had only ever seen them put forth by crazy people (televangelists, for example) who presented them in off-putting or hateful ways, which made it very easy for me to write them off as psycho right-wing Evangelical neo-con gay-hating freaks. Much the same way they dismiss the dreadlocked vegan anti-capitalist freaks. Coincidence? I think not.
It’s very easy to ridicule an idea or a philosophy if you manage to keep your understanding of it simple and one-dimensional. Illegal immigrants would be a good example. If you remain ignorant and disconnected from them, it’s pretty easy to argue that they are a burden, that they’re the reason the public schools and emergency rooms are so overloaded, that we should ship them all back and build a wall between Mexico and the U.S. But if you actually hear them out, and realize that as long as life is bad enough in their home countries to make it worth risking their lives to come to the U.S., arguing that the solution is building a wall sounds juvenile and poorly reasoned. It’s not comfortable for me to say this, but I definitely had a (carefully-guarded) simplistic view of certain segments of American culture. Specifically, social conservatives and Evangelical Christians. I realize that these two groups do not always align on all the issues, but in general they have many points in common, so just bear with the generalization for this blog entry.
I was always taught that people are basically good, that we are all equal, that people should be judged based on their individual merit and not based on race, religion, creed, etc. My liberal education, specifically at SMA and Scripps, seemed to put forth a very relativist philosophy. Whether it was intended or not, I (and I think most of my classmates as well) came out of that with the idea that there are many points of view that command equal merit. Our teachers rarely told us that there was one right answer (except in math class) and the rule of thumb was that you can pretty much argue any viewpoint you like, and as long as your defense is clear, consistent, well-supported, well-documented and logical, you aren’t ‘wrong.’ It was the argumentation that counted most, not your premise. Which is a great way to teach kids how to analyze, how to deconstruct an argument, how to intelligently discuss nearly anything, and to equip them with the tools they need in order to weed their way through the many misleading propositions they will be confronted with both in and out of school.
But, it also creates a climate where logical, analytical argument is king, and anyone who makes the leap from logic to inherent belief loses some credibility.
Due to that basic paradigm, I pretty much viewed anyone who claimed that there was one absolute truth (religious, philosophical, moral, etc) as slightly less than credible. Same goes for hard-line social conservatives: Who gave them the right to determine what is okay for me? Isn’t that a great thing about America, that no matter your personal views or private actions (private: i.e. not harmful to the public good), you’re still entitled to the same liberties and freedoms the constitution provides? But instead of actually engaging in conversation about some of these questions, and trying to understand how they arrived at their conclusions, I decided that somehow they were less worthy of dialogue than people who shared my perspective. [I would like to put in my disclaimer now, which says that I am not necessarily any more in agreement with the aforementioned ideas than I was before this series of enlightening conversations. But I am able to entertain the thought that these ideas can have well-reasoned arguments behind them, and that not everyone who thinks this way is insane. Some of them are, to be sure, but then so was Tre Arrow.]
Megan is my window into conservative America, or Evangelical Land as she likes to refer to it. Although we are in line philosophically on many things, especially social justice issues, we come from such radically different backgrounds that we always seem to approach things from the opposite perspective, which is awesome and really interesting for both of us. For example, in our talk the other night, we somehow meandered onto the topic of abstinence. She has made the decision not to have sex before she gets married, and I asked her if she could just talk to me about how she came to that decision, etc. She did, and it was really interesting. I wasn’t raised in a culture that pushed the no-sex-before-marriage idea. It was more like no-sex-before-committed-adult-relationship. She was raised in a family/church/culture that definitely expected people to wait for marriage, but it also seems to be a very personal decision for her. She was funny about it, saying that in order to be the token prude she has to assume that role and joke about it, or else people think she’s weird, which is an awesome attitude to have. There was a serious explanation as well, which I’m probably not able to relate eloquently, but at the end of the conversation I respect her more for having that well though-out a philosophy, and the conviction to stand by it for quite possibly a long time.
The following day, I went to dinner with Megan and Janine, and a three-hour long conversation about religion and theology sprung from a question I have had for a long time: What do people mean when they say things like “by the blood of Jesus?” I seriously didn’t know what that meant. It seemed like a catchphrase to be used when you want to be dramatic. And Megan said that most Christians she knows probably don’t really know what it means either but they never ask about it in any case. In other conversations we’ve established that she has more in common with me and my questioning of religion/faith than she does with people at her church who are so sure about everything. Megan and Janine talked about their spiritual journeys and why they stick with their religions despite the fact that they have lots of criticisms of the church, its leaders, its actions, etc.
They tried to explain a lot of concepts that I’m not really sure I can understand, but it was definitely enlightening and I feel like I understand people better now. I can never explain exactly what I mean about issues like this, so I hope this was somewhat coherent at least. But, one good thing about being here is you get used to not being able to fully explain yourself, and it becomes no big deal, so oh well!
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