Monday, June 16th, 2014
While everyday has its new surprises and really is never typical at all, here is a skeleton breakdown:
The noises of the morning that stir my thoughts and meddles with my dreams are often a mixture of my siblings running and screaming, Gloria crying, Mama pouring large gasoline-like jugs of water or Diane washing the floors, my papa listening to the Congolese news on the radio or French music, the beeping of the electricity box, and a rooster crowing every 10-15 minutes at around 6 am each day. Activity is abundant but swift and I groggily rub my half-swollen eyes to bring into focus the cascading mosquito net over me to clamour for the headphones that have shifted in my sleep (I sometimes sleep with music on) and to find my glasses beside my pillow. Time to down my vitamin pill and open my room to my animated siblings and family; always happy and ready to go in the morning. I would croak in my dry voice: Mwaramutse (good morning) and mama would respond with the same and sometimes ask me if I slept well. N'byeeza, I would croak again. Soon after she would tell me to go wash. Grabbing my towel, toothpaste, toothbrush and face cleanser I would walk myself to the small chamber (like the size of a small walk-in closet) with one hazy window at the top and kneel down to wash my face in a blue basin that mama has put some lukewarm water into just a few moments ago. I would use the water in the water bottle on the makeshift cardboard shelf on my right to brush my teeth, so much more aware of how much water I actually need to rinse my mouth (turns out only half of a standard 500 ml bottle most days). After using my toilet outside (an outhouse of sorts with thick concrete walls and a hole in the ground for the waste), I would go to my room to change and pack my journal, camera, pen and phone in my bag; locking my room behind me, I am often greeted by Agape (age 2) and Abigaelle (age 4) either waiting outside my door or eating already at our long wooden dining table. There is always tea in a thermos and a cup and teaspoon waiting for my use at the table along with slices of bread (usually also the breakfast for many tiny tiny flies), bananas, passionfruit and avocado. I settle myself down to prepare the best (yes everyday the best) avocado, banana sandwich I will ever have and on most days devour it as Abigaelle and I make faces at each other or peek out from under the table or behind the thermos. By around 7 am, we are all expecting Marta (another Intercordian from Canada) and Mama Quinn (her host mom) to be at our porch and ready to walk together to UCC school (called the House of Children). My host mom and mama quinn are both 28 years old, best friends and teach baby class together at the school; so Marta and I often walk together and talk, while our moms walk behind or in front talking as well, its a small joy I look forward to, our morning treks to the centre. Sometimes we pass through the isoko/marketplace, sometimes we take a nice serene path, but we always pass by the two churches on our way to UCC. At UCC, we often enter at the back where the nursery school building is located and are greeted by some early kids just dropped off at school by parents (some on motos/motorcycles (the "taxi" of Rwanda) and usually greeted by the always gentle Headmistress of the school at the yellow gates. Since we are always early, Marta and I would make our way to the main building to sit for a while before activities start at 8 am. We are greeted by the people of the centre as they slowly make there way in any by the regular attendees with mental and/or physical disabilities. The smiles on their faces as each person is greeted, with no one left that is not. All my mornings are spent at the nursery after 8am either in middle class or top class, each with two female teachers and about 53 children in their blue and yellow uniforms (for gym days they are red and grey); I am still learning all the kids names, but I am getting close. Most days I assist the teachers by teaching one English lesson as planned by them, simple things like recognizing the letter G or repeating the names of different animals over and over again and having the kids all yell back the repetition. For the rest of the time, I am usually writing exercises in all 52 of their notebooks for that day or later in the week. After so many weeks, I love seeing how the class dynamics for middle and top class are so different because of many factors, such as the kids, the style of teaching and the teachers (more on ishuri (school) in another post). At 10 am there is a break time where the students all have to eat the provided biscuits and tea or porridge and indazi (like a fried donut like thing, depending on the day) in disciplined peace and silence (sometimes); afterwards the get to go out and play on the metal jungle gym outside for about 10 minutes. School ends each day at noon, when all the parents come in to take their kids home for the afternoon. I walk with Abigaelle home and usually a swarm of other kids going in the same direction as us as Mama Abigaelle waits for the rest of her class to be picked up and return shortly after we finish lunch at home. Turning the corner to my house, a friendly and kind-faced old man is always lounging on his porch; we greet each other happily every afternoon; him waving enthusiastically with two hands and a big smile. After a satisfying lunch with some time to lounge or nap, I leave home alone around 1:30pm to make it back to UCC for 2pm. Afternoons are usually lax and anything could happen; from random conversations to just being with the kids and adults with disabilities watching their daily movies to singing with David in the music room, to making indazi's at the nursery kitchen, to Kinyarwandan lessons or sign-language lessons or playing volleyball with the community on Fridays or dancing. Many happenings. Work ends at 4pm, I usually tend to go to the internet on Mondays (except for the past 3 weeks) or stay around the centre talking to people or go for a walk while it is still light out with various people to learn about what they do usually after work, or I just go home. I am greeted energetically by Agape and Abigaelle, mama Abigaelle and Diane are usually at the back preparing dinner and papa Abigaelle is usually home from teaching at an all-girls school in the Congo. Sometimes I cook with them or just be in the kitchen with the kids and mama and Diane, other times they tell me to sit in the living room to watch tv or drink tea. Cooking can be a two to three hour ordeal and there are usually frites (fried potatoes) and rice (umucyeri) because the kids like to eat those two things. We usually eat around 7:30pm to 8pm and have conversations with mama and papa or watch Fifa (recently) on our small television set with six channels. Sometimes we watch a Nigerian movie, music videos (from international artists like Celine Dion- mama really loves her voice) or the Congolese news. After dinner (another post on food and dinner time conversations) and clearing the table together, sometimes I wash the dishes with Mama and Diane or play with my siblings or papa and I teach each other languages, both whipping out our various dictionaries. Close to 9pm we all decide its time to sleep; igoro gweza we say to each other and return to our bedrooms. A time for me to relax and to think, journal, listen to music, make some crafts or just crash after a long days work.
While everyday has its new surprises and really is never typical at all, here is a skeleton breakdown:
The noises of the morning that stir my thoughts and meddles with my dreams are often a mixture of my siblings running and screaming, Gloria crying, Mama pouring large gasoline-like jugs of water or Diane washing the floors, my papa listening to the Congolese news on the radio or French music, the beeping of the electricity box, and a rooster crowing every 10-15 minutes at around 6 am each day. Activity is abundant but swift and I groggily rub my half-swollen eyes to bring into focus the cascading mosquito net over me to clamour for the headphones that have shifted in my sleep (I sometimes sleep with music on) and to find my glasses beside my pillow. Time to down my vitamin pill and open my room to my animated siblings and family; always happy and ready to go in the morning. I would croak in my dry voice: Mwaramutse (good morning) and mama would respond with the same and sometimes ask me if I slept well. N'byeeza, I would croak again. Soon after she would tell me to go wash. Grabbing my towel, toothpaste, toothbrush and face cleanser I would walk myself to the small chamber (like the size of a small walk-in closet) with one hazy window at the top and kneel down to wash my face in a blue basin that mama has put some lukewarm water into just a few moments ago. I would use the water in the water bottle on the makeshift cardboard shelf on my right to brush my teeth, so much more aware of how much water I actually need to rinse my mouth (turns out only half of a standard 500 ml bottle most days). After using my toilet outside (an outhouse of sorts with thick concrete walls and a hole in the ground for the waste), I would go to my room to change and pack my journal, camera, pen and phone in my bag; locking my room behind me, I am often greeted by Agape (age 2) and Abigaelle (age 4) either waiting outside my door or eating already at our long wooden dining table. There is always tea in a thermos and a cup and teaspoon waiting for my use at the table along with slices of bread (usually also the breakfast for many tiny tiny flies), bananas, passionfruit and avocado. I settle myself down to prepare the best (yes everyday the best) avocado, banana sandwich I will ever have and on most days devour it as Abigaelle and I make faces at each other or peek out from under the table or behind the thermos. By around 7 am, we are all expecting Marta (another Intercordian from Canada) and Mama Quinn (her host mom) to be at our porch and ready to walk together to UCC school (called the House of Children). My host mom and mama quinn are both 28 years old, best friends and teach baby class together at the school; so Marta and I often walk together and talk, while our moms walk behind or in front talking as well, its a small joy I look forward to, our morning treks to the centre. Sometimes we pass through the isoko/marketplace, sometimes we take a nice serene path, but we always pass by the two churches on our way to UCC. At UCC, we often enter at the back where the nursery school building is located and are greeted by some early kids just dropped off at school by parents (some on motos/motorcycles (the "taxi" of Rwanda) and usually greeted by the always gentle Headmistress of the school at the yellow gates. Since we are always early, Marta and I would make our way to the main building to sit for a while before activities start at 8 am. We are greeted by the people of the centre as they slowly make there way in any by the regular attendees with mental and/or physical disabilities. The smiles on their faces as each person is greeted, with no one left that is not. All my mornings are spent at the nursery after 8am either in middle class or top class, each with two female teachers and about 53 children in their blue and yellow uniforms (for gym days they are red and grey); I am still learning all the kids names, but I am getting close. Most days I assist the teachers by teaching one English lesson as planned by them, simple things like recognizing the letter G or repeating the names of different animals over and over again and having the kids all yell back the repetition. For the rest of the time, I am usually writing exercises in all 52 of their notebooks for that day or later in the week. After so many weeks, I love seeing how the class dynamics for middle and top class are so different because of many factors, such as the kids, the style of teaching and the teachers (more on ishuri (school) in another post). At 10 am there is a break time where the students all have to eat the provided biscuits and tea or porridge and indazi (like a fried donut like thing, depending on the day) in disciplined peace and silence (sometimes); afterwards the get to go out and play on the metal jungle gym outside for about 10 minutes. School ends each day at noon, when all the parents come in to take their kids home for the afternoon. I walk with Abigaelle home and usually a swarm of other kids going in the same direction as us as Mama Abigaelle waits for the rest of her class to be picked up and return shortly after we finish lunch at home. Turning the corner to my house, a friendly and kind-faced old man is always lounging on his porch; we greet each other happily every afternoon; him waving enthusiastically with two hands and a big smile. After a satisfying lunch with some time to lounge or nap, I leave home alone around 1:30pm to make it back to UCC for 2pm. Afternoons are usually lax and anything could happen; from random conversations to just being with the kids and adults with disabilities watching their daily movies to singing with David in the music room, to making indazi's at the nursery kitchen, to Kinyarwandan lessons or sign-language lessons or playing volleyball with the community on Fridays or dancing. Many happenings. Work ends at 4pm, I usually tend to go to the internet on Mondays (except for the past 3 weeks) or stay around the centre talking to people or go for a walk while it is still light out with various people to learn about what they do usually after work, or I just go home. I am greeted energetically by Agape and Abigaelle, mama Abigaelle and Diane are usually at the back preparing dinner and papa Abigaelle is usually home from teaching at an all-girls school in the Congo. Sometimes I cook with them or just be in the kitchen with the kids and mama and Diane, other times they tell me to sit in the living room to watch tv or drink tea. Cooking can be a two to three hour ordeal and there are usually frites (fried potatoes) and rice (umucyeri) because the kids like to eat those two things. We usually eat around 7:30pm to 8pm and have conversations with mama and papa or watch Fifa (recently) on our small television set with six channels. Sometimes we watch a Nigerian movie, music videos (from international artists like Celine Dion- mama really loves her voice) or the Congolese news. After dinner (another post on food and dinner time conversations) and clearing the table together, sometimes I wash the dishes with Mama and Diane or play with my siblings or papa and I teach each other languages, both whipping out our various dictionaries. Close to 9pm we all decide its time to sleep; igoro gweza we say to each other and return to our bedrooms. A time for me to relax and to think, journal, listen to music, make some crafts or just crash after a long days work.