tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71021662390901202392024-03-14T14:29:34.309+00:00Growing together in RwandaElizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.comBlogger157125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-20255174582885090672014-12-07T11:04:00.002+00:002014-12-07T11:04:50.654+00:00A few extra picturesFirst, the smartest hotel I've yet stayed in: the Virunga, in Ruhengeri.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEienw1guzjxuzFeAM_WgwrAges6quK1o61hx-VAIExtGhyphenhyphenkYYD0q7w5ec9L68uD8ObYG2ioiixhrVzFbIhi1MKtN2ayOZ73ooOyYEvBGEeX8FH62nMjnOouBZJmAkbXBzUO4aJbo_SO67pX/s1600/DSCF7480.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEienw1guzjxuzFeAM_WgwrAges6quK1o61hx-VAIExtGhyphenhyphenkYYD0q7w5ec9L68uD8ObYG2ioiixhrVzFbIhi1MKtN2ayOZ73ooOyYEvBGEeX8FH62nMjnOouBZJmAkbXBzUO4aJbo_SO67pX/s400/DSCF7480.JPG" /></a><p> <i>The staff assemble at 8am, presumably for a briefing</i><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKd03vrO_EE9V03FPvswkAe65FRXJ7ByttZtfdpC0ifU60ccHieIED73ofhB_G9LSrTxyU7kuhiBpWHOGA_7ZeiwfqYan276d-q1-4hxMzqJR9wxeaAYHkFbCum3ZB1NQUvINugZs5kZPJ/s1600/DSCF7482.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKd03vrO_EE9V03FPvswkAe65FRXJ7ByttZtfdpC0ifU60ccHieIED73ofhB_G9LSrTxyU7kuhiBpWHOGA_7ZeiwfqYan276d-q1-4hxMzqJR9wxeaAYHkFbCum3ZB1NQUvINugZs5kZPJ/s400/DSCF7482.JPG" /></a><p> <i>And here is the street scene beyond my little enclosed balcony<i><p>
Now Christmas is coming to Kigali. But it is illegal to cut a tree to decorate. T2000, the big Chinese supermarket, displays some possibilities.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqyOWcgKPQ5jk3lYsmKsHknlFrJ4uEKA-TpntKE_ImGJFUQqc1NsxXSTYSrmkz1bmC_YIY7mbSeWuNkIq3kMxll0icyS-67prwNnTYPhazjq0llHfVkspMBxvjCSrrMSUx-NpbTq0dQTuL/s1600/DSCF7491.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqyOWcgKPQ5jk3lYsmKsHknlFrJ4uEKA-TpntKE_ImGJFUQqc1NsxXSTYSrmkz1bmC_YIY7mbSeWuNkIq3kMxll0icyS-67prwNnTYPhazjq0llHfVkspMBxvjCSrrMSUx-NpbTq0dQTuL/s320/DSCF7491.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-lbCJz7Q2CsaAKAjsWT4ggW9dcWHxkB9eBQz7vwnyaOZewW-1Xf66v78zQBiruHE8OX1ETz5iGFDGWi8ZDleh4SwPpRosqFR5YLuZtfAZAaD_Rmt6Doq4RCzPHRa9WvW10CAraSLlOvyb/s1600/DSCF7494.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-lbCJz7Q2CsaAKAjsWT4ggW9dcWHxkB9eBQz7vwnyaOZewW-1Xf66v78zQBiruHE8OX1ETz5iGFDGWi8ZDleh4SwPpRosqFR5YLuZtfAZAaD_Rmt6Doq4RCzPHRa9WvW10CAraSLlOvyb/s320/DSCF7494.JPG" /></a><p>And Coca Cola takes the opportunity to place a huge advertisement in the middle of a busy roundabout - photographed through Antoine's windscreen.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_4UTv8OoqFwVVDP0uhlDICVzS_aiDtZ4Ft6o4WjmJZVCdCnEJbqoMRTGUKMy9H3dlhS1ABgVnWYrhk-myk2EXSBVy1Xy3eu8nkEI842ywI-BDor1zofH9y_pUcGMQqkoCD4AYW_DjjQNc/s1600/DSCF7505.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_4UTv8OoqFwVVDP0uhlDICVzS_aiDtZ4Ft6o4WjmJZVCdCnEJbqoMRTGUKMy9H3dlhS1ABgVnWYrhk-myk2EXSBVy1Xy3eu8nkEI842ywI-BDor1zofH9y_pUcGMQqkoCD4AYW_DjjQNc/s320/DSCF7505.JPG" /></a><p>
Finally, two aspects of my last weekend. Antoine took me for a quiet chat to a restaurant with a lovely garden out of Kigali where the air is fresh - adjacent to the genocide burial ground for top politicians.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiiwd9TPnlzxEjrqYWD7jRyNT7A8-jSuE4PYnjs4mQdDou2LlhFwdq4Q1uNw6VpjlvxlIpMWe7m7mCcyS7MqTUfnZ7rf-ZtsX1iTSeHdgdr-jJK8X-nt2388rWTg6UnBpuoexw2FZWWgfj/s1600/DSCF7506.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiiwd9TPnlzxEjrqYWD7jRyNT7A8-jSuE4PYnjs4mQdDou2LlhFwdq4Q1uNw6VpjlvxlIpMWe7m7mCcyS7MqTUfnZ7rf-ZtsX1iTSeHdgdr-jJK8X-nt2388rWTg6UnBpuoexw2FZWWgfj/s400/DSCF7506.JPG" /></a><p>
And Sandrine took these snaps of some of the children at Gasharu eating mangoes given from a tree in the church garden.<p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsxToDA_W2iILEeCxG7qg25q2t-5_w_hwsbapcgjicMARAldliyreZvbGqC8kly_3yZFsdd2YmC01YMkEcY9OERzfH4ZX01h2zoDJR1lj6LxuTpPggCdgRcU-4PrAnHiXI5gqNYhItSdi/s1600/DSCF7517.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsxToDA_W2iILEeCxG7qg25q2t-5_w_hwsbapcgjicMARAldliyreZvbGqC8kly_3yZFsdd2YmC01YMkEcY9OERzfH4ZX01h2zoDJR1lj6LxuTpPggCdgRcU-4PrAnHiXI5gqNYhItSdi/s320/DSCF7517.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh10iPiFPKxe1V62HgfbmARq2hPyxtJLdfwgL-wA5EKNnFa22B4HojS3V46cWWExoGK3FUfw9a7B0rK6N93TnUJul0-Ur51D8ABZ2j3IWhlPO7MqlHa1oHdpoKRQ6nJ09tKiThQlnPMC1hz/s1600/DSCF7519.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh10iPiFPKxe1V62HgfbmARq2hPyxtJLdfwgL-wA5EKNnFa22B4HojS3V46cWWExoGK3FUfw9a7B0rK6N93TnUJul0-Ur51D8ABZ2j3IWhlPO7MqlHa1oHdpoKRQ6nJ09tKiThQlnPMC1hz/s200/DSCF7519.JPG" /></a></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-67216073564296277952014-12-07T10:20:00.000+00:002014-12-07T10:22:52.385+00:00Sowing the last seeds (2)On Thursday we're in Ruhengeri. After breakfast we're collected by Hirwa (who turns out to be Rachel's nephew) and driven in the old HROC car to the new office for HROC Rwanda on the outskirts of Ruhengeri. HROC (Healing and Rebuilding Our Communities) is extending its trauma-healing work beyond Tutsi-Hutu groups. I worked with the pigmoid minority – Batwa. Now the new UK charity, African Great Lakes Peace Trust, has funded a first group for people with disabilities and their family members. The basic three day training was some weeks ago. Today 18 of the original 20 and one son of a woman too ill to attend have reconvened. They know I am connected with the donor.<p>
After introductions from everybody, Hirwa and Julienne invite testimonies on what was most helpful from the training. Themes emerge: trusting others, speaking out instead of hiding away, experiencing the love of the group, using new-found confidence to help and encourage others with problems. One woman weeps as she says she used to hide her disabled children and now she can welcome visitors.<p>
Then are the usual workshop activities – a lively game, talking and listening in pairs on a series of specified subjects feedback on the exercise. Then a long tea break – presumably to give some social time as we eat bananas and mandazi (doughnuts) and wait for the tea to arrive.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLlPHU-YLMn2WL_P33f3KIcB0PdQ1DAwGn9ttiR-wlBSySFX7VkqtOhPE1x0LZwkxfXSOvIKmDNuRbdnVxAjOAd_klpEXzlYTRILiqcEGoWP7U6Pmv2A_wnxaaOdgmJtMOr_Mm4XpqvEz8/s1600/DSCF7483.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLlPHU-YLMn2WL_P33f3KIcB0PdQ1DAwGn9ttiR-wlBSySFX7VkqtOhPE1x0LZwkxfXSOvIKmDNuRbdnVxAjOAd_klpEXzlYTRILiqcEGoWP7U6Pmv2A_wnxaaOdgmJtMOr_Mm4XpqvEz8/s320/DSCF7483.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj78BaCcPD2k8neNdIUm3oH7ggy2Id0eAy3mmcAiIpxoS21LXOW69zfEyRzwfPUgPGr8gzDCSK5RXKtkZ6FCDs-Ws4-vv_1sX52ElOr3LSpHPIMBVlctRWExKC2x5fsyPAF89LuIoinDPBU/s1600/DSCF7488.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj78BaCcPD2k8neNdIUm3oH7ggy2Id0eAy3mmcAiIpxoS21LXOW69zfEyRzwfPUgPGr8gzDCSK5RXKtkZ6FCDs-Ws4-vv_1sX52ElOr3LSpHPIMBVlctRWExKC2x5fsyPAF89LuIoinDPBU/s320/DSCF7488.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDWQpvLQiKLrjw8Ipc5rHEPSCJO5oL4WSR7BSn0A4GCtmlbPDOCTxQe3pFI1JS1VZKSXhw1zQEDCjJ4cvY4ubFiI1k9KL5h-jTnT9-e1RNl02-idu6RHR6gbyXiRHkciSJD7umQKgYGu3x/s1600/DSCF7490.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDWQpvLQiKLrjw8Ipc5rHEPSCJO5oL4WSR7BSn0A4GCtmlbPDOCTxQe3pFI1JS1VZKSXhw1zQEDCjJ4cvY4ubFiI1k9KL5h-jTnT9-e1RNl02-idu6RHR6gbyXiRHkciSJD7umQKgYGu3x/s320/DSCF7490.JPG" /></a> <i>All these participants were happy to be photographed, and perhaps particularly the young man who chose not to limp outside.</i><p>
Then it's my turn. I know this HROC team has done at least one training drawing on my work. I have brought some seeds, chosen for familiarity, and my last copy of a teaching book that I like a lot on more and better food. A quick exercise in groups gives us a list of more than twenty foods eaten by at least one person this week. I explain the value of eating many different foods, even unfamiliar ones. These are people whose life is difficult and I'm glad in a way to learn that as they don't grow enough to sell they eat what they produce. What are the benefits? No need to exchange money. Extra freshness. No need to travel.<p>
HROC is encouraging them to cultivate veg in local groups. I leave the seed distribution to the local leader for people with disabilities, who himself uses a crutch. On the way back into town with Hirwa I ask if he has ever bought seeds. He doesn't know where Agrotech is, though it has been in the same place on the main road for at least 4 years. We have enough time in hand. I take him into the shop. We buy 5 packets of 8 kinds of seeds for under 5000rwf.<p>
On Saturday I'm visiting Rachel and Bucura. Rachel is always happy to show off her garden. Here is her seed bed, planted with what I gave her last week.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUlVHpTPPpt-a7OYFILR5F_CFn0HGVj_leQt8JtbzbJhkZnbCIIwKXA1HFXwaieo0n-OfZLxDg-sqjk6HUWuvibhXm2_hucsPqvjr087z2I0MM3vi2M6IzTLTWpCojIS2Hk4apkiWUZc0w/s1600/DSCF7499.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUlVHpTPPpt-a7OYFILR5F_CFn0HGVj_leQt8JtbzbJhkZnbCIIwKXA1HFXwaieo0n-OfZLxDg-sqjk6HUWuvibhXm2_hucsPqvjr087z2I0MM3vi2M6IzTLTWpCojIS2Hk4apkiWUZc0w/s320/DSCF7499.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtKzQZlBJXnO9o786E9OfPGGxWvH53085GBBkZi_Kxu5AaFQcl8ja2g6WCAVQSLCddGxaxa_t90BQiZO2Hk2KhYeS21KxdDPvnhLlrrF-Q9pkzBdobMJIYYK5Lu80oW_tnMyJxSH7FJTs9/s1600/DSCF7498.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtKzQZlBJXnO9o786E9OfPGGxWvH53085GBBkZi_Kxu5AaFQcl8ja2g6WCAVQSLCddGxaxa_t90BQiZO2Hk2KhYeS21KxdDPvnhLlrrF-Q9pkzBdobMJIYYK5Lu80oW_tnMyJxSH7FJTs9/s320/DSCF7498.JPG" /></a><p> And here is a mature corner of the garden, with avocados and yams.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfy36kqxzCTN8Q0SV19yIpTL9FvylPa14N7aMNVJvdD7rLLYYGRMXyFj1WxmCDiXXWyvxD8RPPzcPe8DUVyiMBuwD0T_JK92cDdFAujYAuFv1QT2-kYCDbVRXEDFxpeWgU3Y2e9_dZVMj/s1600/DSCF7496.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfy36kqxzCTN8Q0SV19yIpTL9FvylPa14N7aMNVJvdD7rLLYYGRMXyFj1WxmCDiXXWyvxD8RPPzcPe8DUVyiMBuwD0T_JK92cDdFAujYAuFv1QT2-kYCDbVRXEDFxpeWgU3Y2e9_dZVMj/s400/DSCF7496.JPG" /></a>
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-78550346563491818662014-12-07T09:51:00.000+00:002014-12-07T09:54:05.269+00:00Sowing the last seeds (1)
It has been a busy few days. On Monday I travelled to Gisenyi, four hours on a crowded bus, then visited with Rachel the Friends Church where I had done an initial workshop (with Theoneste) at the end of my project. One of my trainees stands proudly for a photo in front of a much larger construction than 'my' sacks. <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhigOxv7NvKrcAOua3irulKdK4ddppAe4way22WE6wIwUpHGwia10sW0hyphenhypheno4AawV3iHyTVjPxvu92UIHYpDbYQnp4Y2VUlLv1WrjqqtcvnAHzRU-eVQj6B_mgjQ15aKKGYKa19a-uWKIMP7/s1600/DSCF7460.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhigOxv7NvKrcAOua3irulKdK4ddppAe4way22WE6wIwUpHGwia10sW0hyphenhypheno4AawV3iHyTVjPxvu92UIHYpDbYQnp4Y2VUlLv1WrjqqtcvnAHzRU-eVQj6B_mgjQ15aKKGYKa19a-uWKIMP7/s400/DSCF7460.JPG" /></a>
The dodo (local amaranth) is well established and also planted in the surrounding ground, but otherwise there are only a few onion seedlings. Etienne, a pastor I first met several years ago, tells me the mice eat a lot. However, he has been on a training in Burundi and is now inspired by no-till and the magic of layering different organic materials, so perhaps he will encourage varied planting. On his phone he shows me a photo of murky water poured quickly through a bucket of unenriched soil and clean water filtered slowly through layers of organic matter. My stock of seeds is dwindling but I give him some Italian summer broccoli, some dark green cabbage and some 'cherry' tomatoes: '”Don't wait for them to get big.”<p>
Tuesday's journey up to Mutura is already documented.<p>
Wednesday was the day of the three bags. In the afternoon – after they are done with the morning market - we were due to meet some members of a new women's group, set up by TLC, Transformational Leadership Centre. <p>
I have been hearing about this organisation and its predecessor TEE, Theological Education by Extension, over my years of visits. Writing today (Saturday) I ask David Bucura (busy pressing his suit for today's wedding – yes, I have stayed with him and Rachel overnight) to explain its status. TEE was started by Tear Fund in 1996, to bring 42 denominations of Rwandan churches together in educating new leaders to replace those lost in the genocide and its aftermath. As it happens, Meg Guillebaud was the first treasurer. Now Tear Fund is no longer involved. TLC is registered with the Rwandan government as a charity (a lengthy and tedious process), administered on behalf of all the churches by the Friends Church. It has three programmes - peace education, children's peace libraries, and community mobilisation for poverty reduction. Wednesday's women's group at Kanzenze, on the main road below Mutura, is an example of work in the third category.<p>
We arrive late after rain. Two women are waiting for us in a little peace library. Gradually a few more arrive. This is just like the old days. Rachel says we are expected to teach something about healthy eating. We fill an hour: try eating some of the veg you grow instead of selling them all then having to use the money you earned to buy food from somebody else; the vitamins and minerals in fruit and veg (that's Rachel's segment and doesn't need to be translated for me); mixed planting – if you were a cabbage pest would you look for a field of cabbages or the individual cabbages mixed up with other things? <p>
I don't have any seeds selected for this group but they would clearly like some. I give them 5000rwf, enough for 50 packets at Agrotech in Gisenyi or Ruhengeri. I wish them well.<p>
Quite soon it's time to walk back to the bus ticket office where my suitcase is being looked after. Accompanying us is a young man with good English who teaches IT in a business college, volunteers as the librarian here and is also working with Matt. Promising.<p>
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-26893112493135071992014-12-05T07:49:00.000+00:002014-12-05T07:53:39.204+00:00Some women of MuturaI think this is my fourth visit to Mutura, up a mountain above Lake Kivu. I'm glad it's not my first, because the cloud is low and the wind chilly. I put on my waterproof jacket and regret that I've forgotten my shawl.<p>
As soon as I knew I would make this trip I promised to revisit. Alphonse, my host last time, now has work close to home, as the Friends Church pastor in Gisenyi. He is developing his plan to help the women of the village find ways to improve their lives. I have told him I shall be able to bring him the 200,000 rwf (nearly £200) I have collected from selling my surplus allotment produce through Edible Ealing.<p>
First I am shown the continuation of my first teaching - planting in sacks. I ask the woman responsible for this plot whether the sack is really of any benefit when she has land adjacent. "Well," she says, "Partly I do it because you taught us and partly it does add a bit to the crop."<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbhpe7x2SYVKv1P3l7xHFRu6mLJ7b6FuT8mO6_XLKSqKjJOz3pRm4psls5jfGkSDmRN6IjYUozYbUnEF-Fj_hdWfyeAhlGcTM21gE5U6NiLodrkSkW6wL507rF40x4yYRLQFZZikPiQFH/s1600/DSCF7463.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbhpe7x2SYVKv1P3l7xHFRu6mLJ7b6FuT8mO6_XLKSqKjJOz3pRm4psls5jfGkSDmRN6IjYUozYbUnEF-Fj_hdWfyeAhlGcTM21gE5U6NiLodrkSkW6wL507rF40x4yYRLQFZZikPiQFH/s400/DSCF7463.JPG" /></a><p>
After visiting another of my 'graduates' and discussing the pros and cons of peeling potatoes - she's wary of missing any grubs if she doesn't take the skin off - we move on to the village. Alphonse observes that there are several new buildings going up, evidence of new energy now mains electricity has arrived. But the mud doesn't change.<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwPlcEBSMLJRiXQa6L3Gkejw5TnHAOvJHCZcgHYxLKNwDq7Z741Bqg0i0bYxFxkhVQmRVblGzPW4aOpmARUjSMFZa97roW6NGJD0mO3L_huYdBN1fOvZ3VYHeJ2uVv6C2JrZZDQjcWXzqq/s1600/DSCF7472.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwPlcEBSMLJRiXQa6L3Gkejw5TnHAOvJHCZcgHYxLKNwDq7Z741Bqg0i0bYxFxkhVQmRVblGzPW4aOpmARUjSMFZa97roW6NGJD0mO3L_huYdBN1fOvZ3VYHeJ2uVv6C2JrZZDQjcWXzqq/s200/DSCF7472.JPG" /></a></div><i>Click on the image to see one of the benefits of electrification</i><p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm85g_TDZbRwBH-qdI6hsCPcl-FGV7HbGPJtRiUPKTmRQhdhookg1HofYG9xbZq3AtkMSj269KiT28bHGR2uIsnn6k81-qBS79bBMgt_Kg0BT_pQRVfH_GeGsdRI5dEthcvD0b4is5M1vq/s1600/DSCF7471.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm85g_TDZbRwBH-qdI6hsCPcl-FGV7HbGPJtRiUPKTmRQhdhookg1HofYG9xbZq3AtkMSj269KiT28bHGR2uIsnn6k81-qBS79bBMgt_Kg0BT_pQRVfH_GeGsdRI5dEthcvD0b4is5M1vq/s200/DSCF7471.JPG" /></a></div><p>
We head for the small room near the market that Alphonse was having built two years ago. Inside are more that a dozen women and one sewing machine. My donation should pay for three more. The owner of the local dressmaking and tailoring business is training around 20 women. Two have graduated to work in her shop and get paid. It's not clear where all the rest will work when trained, but Alphonse says he's happy with one step at a time. There seems to general confidence that there will be plenty of demand for their products, which include hand-tied covers for chair seats and tables.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXFtX2g6lzz9T83LIo3NUTRmgKudphPn46IjkhHoDI6eUkYNhDtqwtobWBQ9DUQlewlQas6vK3XLwhnvthstDy7Qu-9OQmmFbs-vsifA3W6FbDi21umgHqiZOKCjeKy1scviX9LGwdQ75t/s1600/DSCF7470.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXFtX2g6lzz9T83LIo3NUTRmgKudphPn46IjkhHoDI6eUkYNhDtqwtobWBQ9DUQlewlQas6vK3XLwhnvthstDy7Qu-9OQmmFbs-vsifA3W6FbDi21umgHqiZOKCjeKy1scviX9LGwdQ75t/s400/DSCF7470.JPG" /></a><p> <i>The hand-tied cloths are on the wall</i><p>
Some of these women I remember well and I'm sure there are others I ought to recognise. On my last visit Rachel and I helped them cook a wide range of dishes and encouraged them to try new vegetables. I have brought a few kinds of seed I hope will thrive in this cooler part of the country. Brussels sprouts are a novelty that just might succeed; they are interested to try growing and eating cucumbers, which some of them have seen in town.<p>
After lunch cooked by Alphonse's wife, Veneranda, who managed also (by using the help of the teenage children, I assume) to be in the group in the sewing classroom – she's second from the right – we have completed the official business, as it were. One visit remains.<p>
Would we go to greet Alphonse's mother? Yes, of course. (Has
his father died, I wonder.) But if it is possible to do so without giving offence I will decline the customary fizzy drink. Alphonse seems to understand.<p>
We climb the now familiar path, reminiscing about meeting the farmer spreading chemical fertiliser who was amazed when Alphonse showed him his picture on the internet in my blog. We continue an earlier discussion about crop rotation. Fortified by my earlier discussion with Matt, the volunteer agronomist, I commend the few fields of mixed planting and express concern over the usual practice of raising 3 crops of potatoes every year. As yields decline – a result of monoculture probably more than fertiliser – the farmers get ever more desperate and try ever harder to do more of the same. Falling incomes make it more of a struggle to feed families and keep children in school. (Later Antoine tells me a Belgian-trained doctor has surveyed the country and found 45-50% child malnutrition- a figure that shocks us both.)<p>
Mother is all smiles and immediately asks for some photos. I don't even try to sort out who is who among relatives and workers. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJDKIjvlmFMpQ9U3s2lMq7r9DbjoU4Z73dfF2-n9OBemHEbtBN5bsMuNoLdNyXBgj-5ay5pCf9OGWz4hp0AD-tMMkbOk7AJV-vS37uvjGjMSp42ICxKLAehaXn_oyk6xUEi_CjrO2dmSuP/s1600/DSCF7477.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJDKIjvlmFMpQ9U3s2lMq7r9DbjoU4Z73dfF2-n9OBemHEbtBN5bsMuNoLdNyXBgj-5ay5pCf9OGWz4hp0AD-tMMkbOk7AJV-vS37uvjGjMSp42ICxKLAehaXn_oyk6xUEi_CjrO2dmSuP/s320/DSCF7477.JPG" /></a><p> <i>This seeems to be a family group</i><p>
We are invited into the house where Rachel and I chat with a grandson while Alphonse and his mother sort out the drinks. Seeing some men's clothes, I ask about the father – he is off somewhere doing what is necessary to keep up their meagre income. Like almost everybody he has no pension.<p>
Drinks are fetched. What will be expected of me? With a smile, Alphonse opens a large bottle of Primus, the local brand of lager. That's a surprise because Friends don't drink any alcohol – at least in public. Clearly the parents' catholicism has prevailed. Alphonse pours a beer with an uncontrolled head. “Don't try to give me a job as a waiter”, he says. I drink half a glass, knowing others will enjoy what I leave.<p>
Conversation is around how much better things were in the old days. Then people grew much more variety and ate a much better diet. This is becoming a common theme and Rachel tells me later that the government is campaigning for everybody to grow and eat some vegetables. Groups still laugh when I use the names for local edible plants but on the whole people are more receptive now.<p>
Poor people want to eat like the rich people in restaurants. That means meat and chips and perhaps fried banana. Perhaps this is one of the results of colonisation, they say, and those effects are everywhere. I point out that in the many pictures on the walls – portraits of Jesus and stages of the cross – all the characters are white. Rachel says she heard somebody has tried to represent Jesus as black. Really he was neither, I say.<p>
We've reached the time to go back down to the main road before dark. More photos on the way out. Personal remarks are not common but earlier one of the church women told me she preferred me in the skirt I wore last time. Seeing the pictures I have to agree.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-5RHE2hBpM-_wrwMOHyIpUueb7l4Y2O6liLE-nlZOeSwnXL9_N-TAeBk4YQ01brfyx8itQKxWWKNjXCViyIWDk5zqnWl8HAPMpVkbbrROhNCAXJrSxcXihad-ZuD6M_ygqTSJyW9hJy6/s1600/DSCF7474.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-5RHE2hBpM-_wrwMOHyIpUueb7l4Y2O6liLE-nlZOeSwnXL9_N-TAeBk4YQ01brfyx8itQKxWWKNjXCViyIWDk5zqnWl8HAPMpVkbbrROhNCAXJrSxcXihad-ZuD6M_ygqTSJyW9hJy6/s320/DSCF7474.JPG" /></a>
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-5703244653602847142014-12-04T17:34:00.000+00:002014-12-04T17:34:10.577+00:00Still packing bags
<i>
Wednesday 3 December</i>
At the beginning of my project I posted an entry entitled 'The volunteer packed her bag'. And here I am, 9 visits later, still making lists, packing, unpacking, repacking...<p>
This morning in my guesthouse bedroom there are 3 bags to be sorted. Into my small suitcase, carry-on size, go all the things I won't need during today: night things, a change of clothes, adaptors, chargers for 2 phones, camera, Kindle and computer, seeds to give away tomorrow; receipt for the money given to Alphonse yesterday for his project... I decided on this case rather than my bigger rucksack because it has wheels, a robust shell and a padlock. The wheels are only useful when the terrrain is smooth. (Anne will remember the limitations of a wheelchair in Tunisia.) The shell ended up dented by the end of the 4 hour bus journey on Monday after being stowed under a folding seat and trampled from time to time as passengers wriggled in and out of seats on the overstuffed bus, but it sprang back into shape. As usual with locks, one can only hope they serve a purpose.<p>
The second bag is a lightweight backpack that has been surprisingly useful. My rigid document case containing teaching materials gives some structure to the bag. Yes, despite protestations I am still teaching. Then there is a waterproof jacket that also provides warmth and wind protection on the mountains, my computer and camera. There is a side pocket for my Rwandan phone, used just now to rearrange my meeting with Rachel at the bus station because it's raining too hard for motos – she will phone this afternoon's group to tell them we're running late.<p>
The third is my handbag, packed for the stroll to a lakeside hotel to spend the couple of hours before setting off for the bus. Umbrella, plastic bag with swimming things, purse, Kindle. At the hotel I find I have misremembered the layout: it's not quite on the shore and the only swimming is in a very blue pool which I don't fancy. So I order a hot chocolate and sit on the scythed lawn, with palm trees, canna lilies, Peruvian lilies, marigolds, ferns and a network of clipped euonymus hedges – pretty much universal. I haven't got my camera but you can imagine the scene from many a holiday advertisement.<p>
Back at the guesthouse I collect suitcase and backpack from the luggage store and regroup. At least the swimming things are not wet. They go into the suitcase along with the squashy handbag. Now I'm down to a manageable two bags, ready for the moto ride to the bus station. I ask the receptionist to tell the moto driver to take the metalled road so I can steady the suitcase. It's trying to rain so I put on the rain jacket. <p>
As my helmet is buckled on the rain strengthens. Moto dismissed, I'm filling the extra hour writing this.Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-67445924833609543652014-12-02T20:21:00.001+00:002014-12-02T20:35:23.773+00:00Off the beaten track
Sundays are usually reserved for church, but our various commitments have meant this is the only day that Antoine can drive me, with Annunciate and the two girls, to somewhere I have been wanting to visit ever since I heard about it from Dorothy, and English F/friend who worked in Byumba at the teacher training college for VSO.<p>
You won't find Rugesi in the tourist guides, as far as I know. It doesn't have a website. It is a semi-secret wonder. This steep sided valley, like most of the others, had its swamp drained in the decades following independence, when claiming more fertile flat land for cultivation seemed to be the priority. In this case a natural rock barrier retained a large body of water, home to the crested crane which is Rwanda's national bird, but whose population was continuing to dwindle – like so many species in so many parts of the world.<p>
In the 1970s a Belgian with a big house nearby (since dismantled and its stones re-used) thought he could use the drained valley to grow flowers for perfume and breachedd the dam. The authorities were pleased enough to have a level route for a road linking Byumba and Ruhengeri. Local farmers made good use of the land when the Belgian left, benefitting from all the run-off silt from adjacent hills stripped of natural cover.<p>
Enter Meg Guillebaud, English daughter of missionaries in Burundi, educated close by in Uganda. After returning post genocide to help her elderly parents who felt obliged to come out of retirement and offer their knowledge of language and culture, Meg became ordained as an Anglican priest and worked in Byumba as a canon at the cathedral. (I met her there in 2010.)<p>
Meg became the driving force behind efforts to replace some swamp land in order to mitigate the bad effects of unchecked drainage: falling water tables, less rain, no fish... In 2000 the government decreed that a dam be constructed to restore the marshes. It is not the custom here to consult anybody. Local farmers lost their best land and were forbidden to cultivate within 50 metres of the lakeside; a secondary road had to be upgraded on the side of the valley; wild fowl were not to be eaten; the area was designated as a national park.<p>
Meg and other forward looking people from Byumba did their best to minimise any bad effects. Bird observation towers were constructed, solid boats constructed for tourist use, land bought for an eco-lodge and planning permissions obtained. But then Meg became ill, went to Kenya for diagnosis then to England for treatment, and so far has not been able to return to her beloved adopted country.<p>
A small group continues to offer visits, and hopes in time to continue the sustainable development of the unusual resource. I made phone contact with Elisha, who acts as a guide, and he and Antoine discussed arrangements.<p>
We met in Byumba, collected life jackets (compulsory after a shocking incident where school children panicked in a boat and 2 drowned: few Rwandans learn to swim and most are frightened of water) and copies of Meg's booklet about the cranes, and drove to Rugesi, led by Elisha on a moto because our car was full.<p>
I'll tell the rest of the story in pictures.<p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBFSw9JtOWxD_yiXAZaYYSxxvmMpR8mJ1DYGO7L02_9pl-47jxOamoc31L6l4wz54Ze5ZnTCjdiRtAX0MgbC__5nMZHhRQz9gAAyixT0SBomQDbBAgmIqeWl_vlvBlh7_xeEYxiaR739n_/s1600/DSCF7430.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBFSw9JtOWxD_yiXAZaYYSxxvmMpR8mJ1DYGO7L02_9pl-47jxOamoc31L6l4wz54Ze5ZnTCjdiRtAX0MgbC__5nMZHhRQz9gAAyixT0SBomQDbBAgmIqeWl_vlvBlh7_xeEYxiaR739n_/s400/DSCF7430.JPG" /></a><p> <i>Antoine is first into the boat after Elisha</i><p><p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCFUiRNBzIJAGgOOb1Aj5FBcWcBo_mhmdtvLYTviCmun47reCYIR9a9LHzA7-a6GI-JXtPGxw4agNRYheyf52PyKIAKcIBM6UJeQTcJY2n33iiMfXl-OaeJ0HzSb0xpnlDCYC4o49SLltN/s1600/DSCF7431.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCFUiRNBzIJAGgOOb1Aj5FBcWcBo_mhmdtvLYTviCmun47reCYIR9a9LHzA7-a6GI-JXtPGxw4agNRYheyf52PyKIAKcIBM6UJeQTcJY2n33iiMfXl-OaeJ0HzSb0xpnlDCYC4o49SLltN/s400/DSCF7431.JPG" /></a><p><i>We start up the lake (with Gisele tucked behind Sandrine) leaving the moto driver on the bank</i><p><p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu9QFrVG0rN9zbZhuOGbw344YYMvTluBU5old-zrIoM8-fntHnQ07htwBYK9lMO8u3rrOjQePjWtmoYwA3c7_m-hSC-C6a0CoytSiWL0r1u89vZvrmEZHrjrRlPT5BnG5D29hISANkXffm/s1600/DSCF7434.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu9QFrVG0rN9zbZhuOGbw344YYMvTluBU5old-zrIoM8-fntHnQ07htwBYK9lMO8u3rrOjQePjWtmoYwA3c7_m-hSC-C6a0CoytSiWL0r1u89vZvrmEZHrjrRlPT5BnG5D29hISANkXffm/s400/DSCF7434.JPG" /></a><p><i>The lake is before us</i>
<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyfoXVDLp7ixha2H_GJ53AEhoBNyUDNHQy4CNFE9kbU3JcBDbAJzb0u9MRP2uetq8jbH6r3BJ-AeV2eRHqqymGN-ZYkTgBEFlj8CE-KUz25uxUf-ZthBB3NHUAKW7_kieqIlV8f5v0KjN/s1600/DSCF7437.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyfoXVDLp7ixha2H_GJ53AEhoBNyUDNHQy4CNFE9kbU3JcBDbAJzb0u9MRP2uetq8jbH6r3BJ-AeV2eRHqqymGN-ZYkTgBEFlj8CE-KUz25uxUf-ZthBB3NHUAKW7_kieqIlV8f5v0KjN/s400/DSCF7437.JPG" /></a><p> <i>First the fragrant water lilies delight us</i><p><p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoEXYUGg26U7Dd9McwoBvvK3uaQKiFUZXkHQWiuNRzJ54oEzCrXgN9SQ75X54NC8blh31nkUacISTHGLk11WAQXJAiyLI-okfNFnhnrdPkr-xSvsFhTKET41du9pXuepJeAbjLcSPSqLXA/s1600/DSCF7441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoEXYUGg26U7Dd9McwoBvvK3uaQKiFUZXkHQWiuNRzJ54oEzCrXgN9SQ75X54NC8blh31nkUacISTHGLk11WAQXJAiyLI-okfNFnhnrdPkr-xSvsFhTKET41du9pXuepJeAbjLcSPSqLXA/s400/DSCF7441.JPG" /></a></div> <i>Then a solitary crane</i><p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt05W3_hxZ6X_hrBbmLuE87e4ryK08-lisl8Ue_DTUrzdjmGfhl3Wu7QFHfoZJ11jQmTaue6sJXsHlDDA-VRj6QfJGkvPQAg9xLTbfM9BzD9EKSoVj130rkblnTSYtx4dvZcCstVK9gk7Y/s1600/DSCF7448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt05W3_hxZ6X_hrBbmLuE87e4ryK08-lisl8Ue_DTUrzdjmGfhl3Wu7QFHfoZJ11jQmTaue6sJXsHlDDA-VRj6QfJGkvPQAg9xLTbfM9BzD9EKSoVj130rkblnTSYtx4dvZcCstVK9gk7Y/s400/DSCF7448.JPG" /></a></div><p> <i>Moving slowly and quietly along channels cut in the floating vegetation, we are close to pelican and spoonbills, ducks and a lapwing fiercely defending her young against a circling hawk</i><p>
After two hours in the boat we return to the tiny village. As we approach the shore Annunciate confesses that she was very nervous of being on the water but now feels quite secure in the boat.<p>
Dorothy has suggested I might like to give some moral support to the little library, set up in a small room at the back of the church on the initiative of a Peace Corps volunteer. Most of the books are in English and for children though you can see some adult titles to the right. The village would like some books in Kinyarwanda for adults. Reading seems to be gaining recognition and moving beyond textbooks and the bible. Hopefully this community will find ways to move forward.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO8A4F76z_GmBdtlRpQSF75wcWQtyDRHM5jUwJVpWtpGAobWoS2Hrle10eoO-QK8or-IQFvDLDbl8dkayESnspRi0eEgB29htMkt5D-AvBqU2x3RuR37XKTpGrsrgyhgd2_NNxj4M7Thnq/s1600/DSCF7459.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO8A4F76z_GmBdtlRpQSF75wcWQtyDRHM5jUwJVpWtpGAobWoS2Hrle10eoO-QK8or-IQFvDLDbl8dkayESnspRi0eEgB29htMkt5D-AvBqU2x3RuR37XKTpGrsrgyhgd2_NNxj4M7Thnq/s400/DSCF7459.JPG" /></a></div><p><i>The librarian is persuaded to have her picture taken</i>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-14266800179116984672014-12-02T19:51:00.000+00:002014-12-02T19:51:17.329+00:00Skipping rope, anybody?
Washing line – of plastic coated wire? Clothes pegs to match? A mirror for your wall at home? A trouser belt? Trousers? Headphones for your mobile?<p>
All these are on offer as Annunciate and I wait on Friday, bags bulging, for the bus to fill up and take us back to Kicukiro. More likely to attract custom are the little packets of chewing gum, biscuits and sweets. Annunciate pays 100 rwf (under 10p) for a tube of mints whose label shows they were made in India. If a bottle of water were offered I would buy it.<p>
On Monday I am on a bus back into town, to the bus station actually, to meet Rachel, my translator and co-trainer on many such expeditions. We are going away for 3 nights staying in guesthouses where usually fruit and vegetables are not on offer, apart from a banana at breakfast sometimes. Our custom has been to pre order a vegetable dish if we are to eat supper there, and to buy fruit to share. I realise I have forgotten to bring a knife.<p>
In the bus station at Nyabugogo, tickets bought but our bus late to come in, we are approached by vendors with a different range of goods. Rings, necklaces and bracelets seem unlikely but R says they sell quite well. Socks and trousers abound again. I am a focus for sellers of newspapers and magazines in French or English; when I ask for the Rwandan English language daily I am offered only a copy from Monday last week.<p>
Then a young man appears with a bucket full of white onions, carrots and shredded cabbage. Can he be offering instant cole slaw? Surely not. He is shredding more cabbage in front of us. Ah, now I get it: what he's selling is the tool.<p>
Here it is, with 2 mangoes bought beside the bus station in Gisenyi for 100rwf. (The plastic bag they rest on is one of several I brought from home because they are banned here in the interests of litter reduction.) The tool shreds cabbage, opens bottles of fizzy drink, and presumably cuts with a saw tooth or a pointed blade. It's what I was lacking. I buy one.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf1VOHtfXQkxOY0p0d36tu1u8EpyLeFzGo2ZDCBm0g_xCP7w_HZtgAGn4ZK74yW43gisMMIoERcXngoN17-FRXhx74jJCFyhv-dsFg85lGZhVMWR0APYI-nywzlbjBwitFtQlxJ0jnbuW4/s1600/DSCF7461.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf1VOHtfXQkxOY0p0d36tu1u8EpyLeFzGo2ZDCBm0g_xCP7w_HZtgAGn4ZK74yW43gisMMIoERcXngoN17-FRXhx74jJCFyhv-dsFg85lGZhVMWR0APYI-nywzlbjBwitFtQlxJ0jnbuW4/s400/DSCF7461.JPG" /></a> I am the one thing without which Rwanda's drive towards entrepreneurship cannot succeed. I am now a cus-toh-mah!Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-11322981737272858102014-11-28T16:22:00.000+00:002014-11-29T07:58:32.366+00:00Catching up with friendsYesterday was exhausting - I addressed Rwanda Yearly Meeting/Friends Church for 2 hours, coping with several interruptions in the power supply cutting off both microphone and projected photos. Afterwards I would have liked to go and lie down. But the plan was to meet a group of pastors' wives and hear about their activities while treating them to supper. After heavy rain it was too cold to sit outside. All the private rooms were occupied. So we huddled round a low table with minimal lighting. I spread out all my remaining seed packets but rationed the women to two choices each. There may be more when I get back to Kigali next week after a round trip to the north west with Rachel.<p>
This group has been in formal existence for more than 10 years and is currently convened by Gaudance (wife of Augustin and mother of Justin, of whom more after Saturday). It started as a savings club, collecting from all members monthly then giving to one a sum big enough to finance a trading activity, for instance. They have gone on to encourage family activities and work with teenagers on the problems of being pastors' children, expected to model perfection. They need money to run activities in the long school holidays. I had to tell them I could see no way to help, apart from reviewing and advising on any grant applications.<p>
This morning I installed myself at the African Bagel Company for the morning. First Rachel, who has been in Kenya preparing to bring 'Turning the Tide' (an active nonviolence programme) to Rwanda, came to plan next week's trip: 3 nights away in 3 guesthouses visiting 4 groups or individuals. Confirmation depends on Rachel consulting 2 people we couldn't get hold of, then she will book the guesthouses. I have only to think about packing.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdD8wY8ivaaHjh5DUvQGrNLYJ_k3eFxZjcFzam0U9qG5tzf2zJrypNVk_f08msRq5gLL6b-TlHte3D-0yyGpm_K4doEQum1YTSwghfIRuqU_3mzbbEO4qgQTN0cd1_uMe4WhAaSk7AyULa/s1600/DSCF7410.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdD8wY8ivaaHjh5DUvQGrNLYJ_k3eFxZjcFzam0U9qG5tzf2zJrypNVk_f08msRq5gLL6b-TlHte3D-0yyGpm_K4doEQum1YTSwghfIRuqU_3mzbbEO4qgQTN0cd1_uMe4WhAaSk7AyULa/s400/DSCF7410.JPG" /></a><p>
<i>Rachel, at the cafe in a garden she planted herself when this was the pastor's house and her husband Bucura was the pastor.</i><p>
When I left, two years ago, Rachel was trying to make counselling her main occupation. She is still trying. There are plenty of potential clients but hardly anybody prepared to pay. She also works at her family's charity, 'Gate of Hope Ministries', mainly providing counselling and refuge for abused wives and servants. She has several other projects and continues to work voluntarily for the church, focussing on training Sunday School teachers now she has handed on the women's work. She is indefatigable.<p>
As we are finishing our conversation Solange M arrives, right on time. I went to her wedding during my first project visit. She worked with me several times with Batwa and still has a video clip I took of climbing to a remote village. Now she has a daughter and a son and is completing her degree in social sciences. Her husband, an army officer, has just come home after 14 months in South Sudan with the UN force and the children hardly know him. But basically her life and health are better than seemed likely.<p>
We are joined by Solange N, who also worked with me and has recently offered a 'Growing Together' component to a training for women at a remote Friends church. She has little work, however, like far too many of her contemporaries. She says little, and my French isn't up to generating a great deal of conversation. Then Solange M reveals that Solange N's employment prospects ought to be improving after a recent distinction in accountancy finals.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjX1yVT2yaxLbRce6Ov5CAiWx7Nurvkl4vDJkURKL7GWHdN1C36QONM8uAgSZ-fzYbOoYrjNDpdX_lY-RGb6W-YDI9lNPFI_pvH3Tjk-3NoZKnKko7inX7V5Xx-GW_36O83TQwsTjj1tpZ/s1600/DSCF7412.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjX1yVT2yaxLbRce6Ov5CAiWx7Nurvkl4vDJkURKL7GWHdN1C36QONM8uAgSZ-fzYbOoYrjNDpdX_lY-RGb6W-YDI9lNPFI_pvH3Tjk-3NoZKnKko7inX7V5Xx-GW_36O83TQwsTjj1tpZ/s400/DSCF7412.JPG" /></a><p>After I took this picture Solange got out her phone and showed pictures of her children. Then we found the SD card in my camera still had images from my last visit, encouraging reminiscence.<p>A very pleasant morning.Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-3655945759583791072014-11-25T17:42:00.001+00:002014-11-28T15:18:51.739+00:00Not much to look atI've been up to Friends Peace House this afternoon to talk with Matt, the agronomist volunteer with MCC (Mennonite Central Committee) who arrived just as I was leaving 2 years ago. You probably don't want the details of the 5 organisations loosely linked for his work. But you might like to know that 2 years into a 3 year placement he is focussing on cover cropping. He took me out to a patch of ground adjacent to where we were planting seeds last week. Here is one of the legumes being used to fix nitrogen and also to cover the ground during the dry season. <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE6FnuGaaBiGef_AZFaPsvW79cfAzj3Oes5RVNNwviiZExiqQ-XrP9bAO59ZKx04XUfZB52sJ2KPHuw9686INJOLTTKyqtvkFXZTGeFSYYy0oEtN8Fl8Psvv9Kg44NM6gG5vvjxAMekeSU/s1600/DSCF7407.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE6FnuGaaBiGef_AZFaPsvW79cfAzj3Oes5RVNNwviiZExiqQ-XrP9bAO59ZKx04XUfZB52sJ2KPHuw9686INJOLTTKyqtvkFXZTGeFSYYy0oEtN8Fl8Psvv9Kg44NM6gG5vvjxAMekeSU/s320/DSCF7407.JPG" /></a><p>
And here are the vigorous plants spreading over an area which was otherwise bare through out the dry season until grass sprouted after the rain. In the background some newly developed - not genetically modified - beans with extra iron are climbing.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSNiimyjcsZk-gyjIUbhcmz10GEC-DnUFDCHi9MNV-kZj_j7BGRHYRDHcR3u-EA0L64WYyn7RZNqLTBXlJsnMoVg4jxRMUwRcsa8wKlWyPDkYICGD4JSgiI2bq9rbp7U2P0-K40adXAojR/s1600/DSCF7408.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSNiimyjcsZk-gyjIUbhcmz10GEC-DnUFDCHi9MNV-kZj_j7BGRHYRDHcR3u-EA0L64WYyn7RZNqLTBXlJsnMoVg4jxRMUwRcsa8wKlWyPDkYICGD4JSgiI2bq9rbp7U2P0-K40adXAojR/s400/DSCF7408.JPG" /></a><p>
In an adjacent plot is the ongoing field trial for 3 kinds of legume planted under maize. The growth is too small to photograph at this stage.<p>
As Matt gave me a lift 'home' ahead of more rain he realised he'd forgotten my invitation to his wedding, to a Rwandese met through running, for the day before I leave for home. He and Claire are intending to stay in Rwanda, though he will need a proper paid job, so he will be able to keep a friendly eye on Rwandese he hopes to find to take over from him in the various locations throughout the country.
<p>Demonstration fields are encouraging the spread of best practice and providing sites for trials, like Matt's own described above. Some assumptions are being challenged. For example he tells me that ground cover on sloping land has been shown to be more effective than terracing for retaining topsoil. Rwanda's 'thousand hills' have uncounted thousands of terraces: it will be a great saving of labour if they don't need to be frequently repaired. <p>Meanwhile Matt has been experimenting with planting leguminous trees round the leading edges to stabilise the structure - traditionally done with elephant grass for feeding cows. Another saving of labour may be on the way, for the ministry of agriculture has this year for the first time added no-till to the list of possible developments. Enormous labour is expended on turning the soil with heavy hoes. Life could be getting a little bit easier.Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-9471321190088566942014-11-21T13:23:00.000+00:002014-11-25T17:12:56.952+00:00Chaya revisited, and garden improvementI've just gone back to my final 2012 post and added text and pictures. This is the follow-on<p>
David Bucura, pastor at Gasharu for many years, has moved to the main Friends Church at Kagarama now he is Legal Representative again after a 7 year gap. His vision was that the large grounds of the church, guest house, hostel and conference room should be an oasis of beauty and tranquility. It took several years and many discussions before the congregation was behind him. Ironically, a good beginning to the transformation has been achieved even as he moves on. The churches are not separate, however, and Rwanda Yearly Meeting will be held at Gasharu next week.<p>
Those who don't usually come here may be as surprised as I was yesterday. The church administrator and new pastor's wife, Ruth, happy in motherhood after 6 years of trying, wanted to give me a tour. Here she is in front of a plot which was nothing but worn grass and broken down trees, abandoned to the children.<p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoTUQqBPJtJcKvM1zZaOKUQU_DwC4tXQ0RrY5nL1xaG9sHltLakJ-gZxnQBBgRZIjpdoNmMl9WBzgA-ZYFSOC3-MNE5RgMgKc7P2Zn_VctagDElPdwBtrpAQU0_-VvfcTp_yJxmAEAHlbv/s1600/DSCF7359.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoTUQqBPJtJcKvM1zZaOKUQU_DwC4tXQ0RrY5nL1xaG9sHltLakJ-gZxnQBBgRZIjpdoNmMl9WBzgA-ZYFSOC3-MNE5RgMgKc7P2Zn_VctagDElPdwBtrpAQU0_-VvfcTp_yJxmAEAHlbv/s400/DSCF7359.JPG" /></a><p>
And here is a fine flower bed at the newly secure back entrance.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85FQjO110ut_OhyphenhyphenAnGYTeYVct5sdTgstEanfIvFtmnb8EcXiLkf3-GhZS76jJZIcC7Ylb4HFfYzXH1mAYeP6RXlwzL3TrnWrHZk0vUS3xBgrhhLdqTdCe2YvUM0JgKzs6fUJp1BBDs24e/s1600/DSCF7361.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85FQjO110ut_OhyphenhyphenAnGYTeYVct5sdTgstEanfIvFtmnb8EcXiLkf3-GhZS76jJZIcC7Ylb4HFfYzXH1mAYeP6RXlwzL3TrnWrHZk0vUS3xBgrhhLdqTdCe2YvUM0JgKzs6fUJp1BBDs24e/s400/DSCF7361.JPG" /></a><p>
Some of the land is now being used productively, with beans and isogi (a native vegetable rich in iron) between yet more chaya.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0DX1e4Klm7sHm8CflW12Y_qqJmUD4C-_B8Up-xWVfYbAwu7Q5JIGgwcz7qVmlG_o4ftGNuaSwN0hZx9Lc6ziFOu1LTb_aOIYf8KmFCSzbWuMgdaixfcoxIBBxQghG0GyfWDdYEkeTa6DG/s1600/DSCF7366.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0DX1e4Klm7sHm8CflW12Y_qqJmUD4C-_B8Up-xWVfYbAwu7Q5JIGgwcz7qVmlG_o4ftGNuaSwN0hZx9Lc6ziFOu1LTb_aOIYf8KmFCSzbWuMgdaixfcoxIBBxQghG0GyfWDdYEkeTa6DG/s400/DSCF7366.JPG" /></a><p> I asked who will eat the produce: church members will share it and the kitchen for the conference facility may also use some.<p>
There may be a grant application in the making here. Success can breed success and there's no question of the communal commitment now. Funds have been found for regular garden maintenance. There are half a dozen mango trees and a couple of avocados, some past their best but some very productive. I ask if the children get any of the fruit. 'Oh yes, we sit them down after Sunday school and slice avocado for them.' I hope to get a picture. If funds can be found the next phase will be to plant oranges and lemons and some young successors for mango and avocado.<p>
Meanwhile, here's a happy conjunction of hibiscus and mango at the entrance to the guest house, and then the macadamia tree which got off to a bad start 4 years ago in the era of the neighbourhood goat depredations but has made a good recovery.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNcOj7CAEY1xuJJfkf8MPZ_Rq-_1p7A-iix4LXl9IjZuOhuS8N8q8k-MF3N5BqD6_cY6KuxKwExL7XhpvDr4eVkUoTWVcg8ZVPmwkuiG33Q0ce-m6pCpM-3o_oTQcLr7VYmdQpUfTrln7/s1600/DSCF7370.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNcOj7CAEY1xuJJfkf8MPZ_Rq-_1p7A-iix4LXl9IjZuOhuS8N8q8k-MF3N5BqD6_cY6KuxKwExL7XhpvDr4eVkUoTWVcg8ZVPmwkuiG33Q0ce-m6pCpM-3o_oTQcLr7VYmdQpUfTrln7/s400/DSCF7370.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp3jQkOP4apguq_Vdwy2pOl2pIgTE7SxQfjPAe-Q_RyQs8xo8tcNdjBUEvB-QL6oi-CElBNL1STgJqhydgrwIjlwz5S3NoS32Wp5treRRcFMJiNnJGkF1Mk4-sVXWBzgfu7EgLzUzDR7eO/s1600/DSCF7368.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp3jQkOP4apguq_Vdwy2pOl2pIgTE7SxQfjPAe-Q_RyQs8xo8tcNdjBUEvB-QL6oi-CElBNL1STgJqhydgrwIjlwz5S3NoS32Wp5treRRcFMJiNnJGkF1Mk4-sVXWBzgfu7EgLzUzDR7eO/s400/DSCF7368.JPG" /></a>
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-1130106836499008852014-11-21T09:41:00.000+00:002014-11-21T18:21:05.806+00:00LanguageIt must be 5 years now since the official international language of Rwanda was changed from French to English - for reasons I won't rehearse unless asked. I noticed immediately on my return that people who were adamant French speakers when I left 2 years ago are now trying a little English on me. <p>Public signs have mostly changed. Government schools had been instructed to abandon French, though a little is now being taught again. At Mwana N'Shuti students are prepared for an international clientele by learning English and Swahili<p>
French continues to be a <i>lingua franca</i>, however. On Wednesday afternoon, after the morning planting, Antoine convened a group to talk about the new cookery course. The tutors for hairdressing, languages and vehicle mechanics were there, and Clement the entrepreneurship lecturer, and Aline who will teach the cookery course when enough equipment has been assembled. Antoine introduced the event and announced that as Theresa and I are bilingual - and all the Rwandans use French - the meeting would be in French. I said my French had some holes and I might need translation. I also had to explain that my hearing is deteriorating and I was struggling to hear soft voices over the noise from vehicles being repaired and their engines tested nearby.<p>
Theresa had the main role. I haven't learnt much about her work in Friends Peace House or elsewhere but she is clearly more senior than most of the volunteers and is part way through her second year as Antoine's assistant and advisor, it seems. She was born in New Zealand, lives in Canada, and has worked in Vietnam, I think. She had been asked to give an overview of the work, repeating much of what I had already been told but that is the Rwandan way. Her notes were in English. Nobody else present was learning anything new.<p>
Previously I would have smiled inwardly at the awkwardness and potential for misunderstanding but said nothing. Now I am on the way to being an honoured visitor so I spoke up. 'I would prefer this report to be given in English, if you don't mind.' And it was. Subsequent discussion flowed easily in all 3 languages, with translation as needed. This was not primarily a formal occasion or a staff meeting but more of a pitch for funding. It ended with Aline, Clement and Theresa agreeing to draft a grant application, which I could review in time for a second version to be with me when I leave for home.<p><p>
Yesterday evening Antoine hosted a supper for the 8 volunteers - some new, some well established and one about to leave. Church leaders, lecturers and advisors, staff from Friends Peace House and Mwana N'Shuti, some spouses and volunteers numbered around 30. We sat at a long table, waiting for those coming from work or just keeping African time. Penned in on both sides, I started coughing. Waiters were hovering. I asked for water. 'Cold, madam?' The alternative is room temperature. 'Whatever is quickest. I am coughing badly.' 'You want coffee, madam?' 'No. JE TOUSSE.'Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-82495886752715060002014-11-19T17:43:00.000+00:002014-11-21T18:19:42.487+00:00Revisiting Mwana N'Shuti (Child my Friend)
In 2009, at the beginning of the Growing Together in Rwanda project, I supervised the making of a compost heap in the grounds of this training school for vulnerable teenagers, started by the Friends Church as an initial post-genocide project in 1998. Antoine, my host - with his family - for this visit, is now coordinator of Friends Peace House and director of Mwana N'Shuti on a shared site. One of the men working with me today remembered me from the lesson in compost: here is the current heap being raided for dry material to protect our seeds from excess of sun or rain.<p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvcSV_jkri4RCh-nCb7a6SXHCfudKgYu4JdM_g3qfao5uSS621l4VEiYW1GBDEys9ul9071oK_PKvxlBpj8_vVSbMNcQfFvib-5EPcqA3SMFCTTZdoMs7fgUpLACmwVq26EgRVXmdZm6vf/s1600/DSCF7351.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvcSV_jkri4RCh-nCb7a6SXHCfudKgYu4JdM_g3qfao5uSS621l4VEiYW1GBDEys9ul9071oK_PKvxlBpj8_vVSbMNcQfFvib-5EPcqA3SMFCTTZdoMs7fgUpLACmwVq26EgRVXmdZm6vf/s320/DSCF7351.JPG" /></a>
Today's project is to plant a section of the school field with some of the seeds I've brought from home. The great bundle of packets, donated because they will be out of date by next year's spring planting, enthralled Antoine's family on Tuesday evening. The tendency here is for any difference of variety to be met with suspicion - a lettuce or cabbage with a pink tinge must be diseased, for example. Antoine made a selection suitable for experimental planting: a dark cabbage (only white is known here, apart from a kale from Kenya which some are prepared to try), two kinds of sweet peppers, leeks (which don't even have their own name in Kinyarwnda distinct from onion, though I've seen them in the main markets), spring onions and chives, an Italian summer broccoli with small heads ('Yes, it's a kind of cauliflower, but you cut the florets and more should grow'). Finally there are 3 kinds of lettuce. I explain that they may not germinate if the temperature is too high, even in the shade.<p>
A team has been assembled including two members of the conservative agriculture programme, the visiting entrepreneurship lecturer - goodness knows why but Antoine hs his reasons for everything - and some extra muscle power. Safari sets to with sticks, string and a measuring tape to mark out beds a metre wide for easy access. Much time goes on removing stones and grass roots though a first pass with hoes has obviously been done quite recently. Channels are marked and the seeds carefully spaced.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGMNoWLuxLktkRFRnM_xfhN72d5THdd8K3lRddgrn7x4hn8K73R6up0KCKdEvNBOB7EtWtDf6UmHBG_Lv2y5PZ6lHaAbASKbwsteBQAUFFZWmnX6aRWQUFQT9xapvoeF9Bk1DaVN9RbjOA/s1600/DSCF7356.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGMNoWLuxLktkRFRnM_xfhN72d5THdd8K3lRddgrn7x4hn8K73R6up0KCKdEvNBOB7EtWtDf6UmHBG_Lv2y5PZ6lHaAbASKbwsteBQAUFFZWmnX6aRWQUFQT9xapvoeF9Bk1DaVN9RbjOA/s400/DSCF7356.JPG" /></a><p>
<i>In the foreground Antoine takes his turn at sowing while in the background a shady bed under two trees is prepared for the lettuce</i><p>
I comment on the gender of the participants. 'Cultivating' is traditionally women's work, and low status. The men are quite comfortable to be changing with the times, though when we come to discussing how these unusual foods might be cooked and eaten they say they'll consult their wives - not a distinctively Rwandan response. <p>
When I first visited Rwanda(as a folk dancer) somebody mentioned a programme devised by two white Zimbabwean farmers they called 'Farming God's way', now renamed 'Foundations for farming'. It recommends various conservative techniques - minimum till, natural compost, terracing for soil and water retention, and mulching to reproduce'God's blanket' which occurs naturally on uncultivated land where leaves and other natural detritus cover the soil and replace nutrients as they rot. Mulching has been widely adopted here. I'll leave our morning's work with a picture of the finished beds. The stakes are in preparation for making a shade canopy to replace the 'blanket' once the seedlings are established.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbDsfCinGFNEk_wjEF71CxzpB10X7C3D8xZv6cJ9v-NXv8JPYvN8CYN8LFNh4mYywi33BqEwhmvMtl5RYtDiAsppkGmCW9N5VWwSBH_JlQwHcds5JMGtMJGkX799NHVtZkMDzkpJchgmu8/s1600/DSCF7357.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbDsfCinGFNEk_wjEF71CxzpB10X7C3D8xZv6cJ9v-NXv8JPYvN8CYN8LFNh4mYywi33BqEwhmvMtl5RYtDiAsppkGmCW9N5VWwSBH_JlQwHcds5JMGtMJGkX799NHVtZkMDzkpJchgmu8/s400/DSCF7357.JPG" /></a>
<p>
Mwana N'Shuti is currently preparing to open a cookery course, assembling equipment and writing grant applications. A small cafe for staff at both establishments and also the motor mechanics who now rent a space for a repair workshop alongside the Mwana N'Shuti training in vehicle maintenance is about to open. It will begin with tea and snacks but could go on to serve food prepared by the cookery students. Some good synergy here.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4V86irrM36U91CYoTq7ZB_LMxH2gllThdcw7MSmaB47glnRW2CIwSHpHuXxBWxCbQIsLGfKP7PcYiWHnKeXmiREfGyCTyMNPalSPYaM1Cmj9vW56NJzmi0tDxr_IpMSF_vntYbx5FqQ7P/s1600/DSCF7352.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4V86irrM36U91CYoTq7ZB_LMxH2gllThdcw7MSmaB47glnRW2CIwSHpHuXxBWxCbQIsLGfKP7PcYiWHnKeXmiREfGyCTyMNPalSPYaM1Cmj9vW56NJzmi0tDxr_IpMSF_vntYbx5FqQ7P/s400/DSCF7352.JPG" /></a><p>
There is no cafe within convenient distance. This young man arrived with his bucket of filling snacks and settled on the bench next to me. 5 or 6 of the planting team bought from him - a chappati folded over a samosa was the favourite. In the bucket with the food were a fork and a thin plastic bag to use as a glove, so the food didn't have to be handled directly. Somebody asked me jokingly whether he might die from eating with unwashed hands. Consciousness of the benefit of good hygiene has certainly advanced over the years of my visits.
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-42401312130585162432014-10-31T14:57:00.002+00:002014-11-23T13:52:58.358+00:00Back to Rwanda (now with retrospective photos)In a couple of weeks I shall be setting off for Kigali. My visit is for seeing dear friends and getting a sense of what has continued and what changed since Growing Together in Rwanda came to its formal end two years ago.<p>
Since then a few of us, mostly Quakers, have established a new charity, African Great Lakes Peace Trust, to fund selected projects devised, run and evaluated by organisations and people we trust. I am looking forward to seeing for myself which projects are securely based and could make good use of funds.<p>
During my two years after the end of the project I have been looking for ways to make use in London of what I learned in Rwanda. This year I have started supplying vegetables, jams and chutneys as an 'allotment lucky dip' to Edible Ealing, a fortnightly organic box scheme run as part of Ealing Transition Initiative. (I haven't worked out how to insert links, but both those terms can be looked up on line.) Now I shall take the modest amount of money made by contributions of £2 per order to give to people I know for schemes too small for official charitable funding.<p>
I'll post frequently while away. I love getting comments.
Now here are some illustrations to explain the outline of the project.
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPp-odKY4txG9S4gMZS-FIHbHbicvrDw45COrAV40RWX_wgZhw4Cfeo0uQFv1PNSwP5XzKQXVxlq3WpEl58wQHlA21soZfkVebiHQ10liRdRGut6Lb25F3gz2-z1zAuWs6lGWBFWWs3PZY/s1600/DSCF7100.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPp-odKY4txG9S4gMZS-FIHbHbicvrDw45COrAV40RWX_wgZhw4Cfeo0uQFv1PNSwP5XzKQXVxlq3WpEl58wQHlA21soZfkVebiHQ10liRdRGut6Lb25F3gz2-z1zAuWs6lGWBFWWs3PZY/s400/DSCF7100.JPG" /></a><p>
This sack filled with soil and a central column of stones, to be planted on the sides and top, was my first offering. It was devised in Uganda and propogated by Send-a-Cow, among others.<p>
On a second visit to a group I found many examples like this.<p>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJP7_myhHNy5QpBlnqxnVZpOXG9duSvdVYMYhGTqn95rzT3ORMVP2KQS8lNAZRoL-0jcnBB2s0jrMWCYpdj9EZkLVwuvNMJvOtKPxkETzH6pC8f7eyE9OsATwEVQfi3OKtFiqwQe_bJKWo/s1600/DSCF6576.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJP7_myhHNy5QpBlnqxnVZpOXG9duSvdVYMYhGTqn95rzT3ORMVP2KQS8lNAZRoL-0jcnBB2s0jrMWCYpdj9EZkLVwuvNMJvOtKPxkETzH6pC8f7eyE9OsATwEVQfi3OKtFiqwQe_bJKWo/s400/DSCF6576.JPG" /></a>
Then the women started saying they didn't know what to do with the strange veg from my seeds, so with a Rwandan colleague I invited groups to shop, cook and eat together. We had wonderful feasts.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINDeT9FpFs-HoCfdbbeuYDD9R8FRNz9_CPCHJrVu2Q1R7yEGCEWMSABTwD7NU5eUXtTaSqTVGsOSFWhiV825VTIQiGz9OdZtw-PqwpbHYoLHFJiv1k4dUqqlXwR9kP-ngVbGeP5ycPgqk/s1600/DSCF7284.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINDeT9FpFs-HoCfdbbeuYDD9R8FRNz9_CPCHJrVu2Q1R7yEGCEWMSABTwD7NU5eUXtTaSqTVGsOSFWhiV825VTIQiGz9OdZtw-PqwpbHYoLHFJiv1k4dUqqlXwR9kP-ngVbGeP5ycPgqk/s400/DSCF7284.JPG" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG2JybPniDDUIJT4-Eab489h1q5nmAhA1UL5RuBVggXL-Wb5plbYJWENSP39Y03AkB5SPBe-Kpsil98pO0SSpybDE30FVkOmPzrfXVmA4SaxgctZEJAybl0WCnHrkdaYYUK850l6o5owQs/s1600/DSCF7058.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG2JybPniDDUIJT4-Eab489h1q5nmAhA1UL5RuBVggXL-Wb5plbYJWENSP39Y03AkB5SPBe-Kpsil98pO0SSpybDE30FVkOmPzrfXVmA4SaxgctZEJAybl0WCnHrkdaYYUK850l6o5owQs/s400/DSCF7058.JPG" /></a><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDMpcjV1AqZfOZAuUSRKsifdYy0G2uqtczMhWgHLcLrERf78MPsdTn2md34T6QeJAl3MzMVmaHSTFcShYnP0baZsXVZ2qD1MC9k5qfdZJ5Si3WoxGDN3PUoAIc_2kpFuv8iq066tjx76v/s1600/DSCF7069.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDMpcjV1AqZfOZAuUSRKsifdYy0G2uqtczMhWgHLcLrERf78MPsdTn2md34T6QeJAl3MzMVmaHSTFcShYnP0baZsXVZ2qD1MC9k5qfdZJ5Si3WoxGDN3PUoAIc_2kpFuv8iq066tjx76v/s400/DSCF7069.JPG" /></a>
<p>Meanwhile the ministry of health was encouraging people to construct 'kitchen gardens' with several tiers and a central basket for vegetable refuse to rot and feed the soil. <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6CESWXmxx-t0IVrbi6BpAiEt9AS1sjri9xXxKhnLuhOZPn2iK3pi7KE99XfWkucRLE8US1OKxaaLI0yEp2m4lQjSeddVCzEc2Xd-ImZWYpWVxnOtiOUro0Yv8Ssf_VXoCgLFiuOobCgW_/s1600/DSCF7183.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6CESWXmxx-t0IVrbi6BpAiEt9AS1sjri9xXxKhnLuhOZPn2iK3pi7KE99XfWkucRLE8US1OKxaaLI0yEp2m4lQjSeddVCzEc2Xd-ImZWYpWVxnOtiOUro0Yv8Ssf_VXoCgLFiuOobCgW_/s400/DSCF7183.JPG" /></a>
The commonest crop at some times of the year is beans - the staple protein.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xnDHAh76XTJSzNTUgH3Jf5QSSYRN-GjTPsMKqSr1qX_9sUIOdYWEDyMBoyvG6oYpQC-AIYK2DBsgqfzPSfQMH6VQkcWa6liuEYWacU-z7MXoVGATRz9VZDU85LlZMXf9rBduhJ6_i5d5/s1600/DSCF7170.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xnDHAh76XTJSzNTUgH3Jf5QSSYRN-GjTPsMKqSr1qX_9sUIOdYWEDyMBoyvG6oYpQC-AIYK2DBsgqfzPSfQMH6VQkcWa6liuEYWacU-z7MXoVGATRz9VZDU85LlZMXf9rBduhJ6_i5d5/s400/DSCF7170.JPG" /></a> <p>There's been a government drive to grow more maize and less of everything else: people aren't told why andthey hate it. But local officials see everything and report back. To my great delight, a young American agronomist is promoting conservative agriculture on a much larger scale than I could attempt.<p>
Finally, here's a typical Rwandan landscape, with a refugee camp on the top of the far hill hinting that all is not yet well in this part of Africa.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_yhyphenhyphenPqmvYM-XX_cplkQUziWLRwWHtzuheFi0OswcIX9A7T28O4uXeyWAo9Eh7vR_h17zlzx6LoQR7ft0pP6OqO9d71KmsflZ_s7NoHcIdRDUdwSGFOwbVfu655X_m8p-EAlwMYCUvSG0o/s1600/DSCF7150.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_yhyphenhyphenPqmvYM-XX_cplkQUziWLRwWHtzuheFi0OswcIX9A7T28O4uXeyWAo9Eh7vR_h17zlzx6LoQR7ft0pP6OqO9d71KmsflZ_s7NoHcIdRDUdwSGFOwbVfu655X_m8p-EAlwMYCUvSG0o/s400/DSCF7150.JPG" /></a>
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-28249728759011509262012-11-10T17:31:00.001+00:002012-11-10T17:41:09.602+00:00Looking back, looking forward
The final meeting to evaluate and celebrate Growing Together was held on
Thursday. Rachel spoke of how successful my teaching had been, Antoine of
how the families where I stayed have changed their eating habits, and
Augustin of how the churches have benefitted from my work. But Sizeli said
the nicest thing: We saw Elizabeth return after her first visit with the
Friendly FolkDancers and we thought OK, the woman has come back. Then we
began to realise what she could do.</p>
Yesterday, Friday, I wanted to buy a couple of things. Antoine said he would
drive me into town and he would also be helping the new Mennonite Central
Committee volunteer buy a second hand car. In our time together I learned
that Matt Gates from Pennsylvania is an agriculturalist, whose PhD programme
was about agriculture for the developing world. He has worked in Senegal. He
will be here for three years. </p>
Is Matt the person I have been seeking? I am so glad I didn't miss him. He is not an AGLI volunteer. Ironically, there have been a lot of
conversations in the last few days about how beneficial it could be to
integrate the various programmes of Friends Peace House and other organs of
the Friends Church here. My sense is that if an MCC volunteer is to visit
'my' groups, offer support, and take the work forward, then that is what
needs to happen. Matt has the appropriate education, which I lack. He won't
do what I would have gone on doing if my project continued. But his presence
seems to me to be a GOOD THING.</p>
This afternoon I spent a couple of hours handing over some of my teaching
materials, discussing sources of information and answering Matt's questions. I am to make him a list of the
groups I've worked with. Then how he follows up will be for him to decide.</p>, Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-14983488597701995422012-11-10T17:27:00.002+00:002014-11-21T12:41:33.261+00:00Cabbages and chaya At the end of my last 2012 visit I went to see how Ruth, the new church manager, was doing with the garden. Now walled against goats and humans, it was ready for development. Here is Ruth with the first chaya plants starting to disguise the wall, and enjoying the prolific nasturtiums from some seeds I left a coule of years ago. This is the Ruth who, when I started looking at the Gasharu church surrounds, didn't think it was her role to get her hands dirty gardening.<p>
Chaya is a shrub whose young leaves are not only edible but palatable - similar to spinach but with a bit more body. The other picture shows the commonest green vegetable, reputedly popular because it keeps reasonably fresh for a second day.<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-gwPF1ErXGLhJBatc5t2MDg58sMf0gN_lq5PrH8EfPX3UNN1cgNonKuZmJDgfo8FwmSqKSiM3TeIPPo7nFFgACMLssVEMvhVNls8MDTTV_m2dDhU1c11Fl2FB5r3UTT_wxoPEY1J0L4VO/s1600/DSCF7310.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-gwPF1ErXGLhJBatc5t2MDg58sMf0gN_lq5PrH8EfPX3UNN1cgNonKuZmJDgfo8FwmSqKSiM3TeIPPo7nFFgACMLssVEMvhVNls8MDTTV_m2dDhU1c11Fl2FB5r3UTT_wxoPEY1J0L4VO/s400/DSCF7310.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8kRKmZ9LF2DM3PI8qHKOofCc94WAfclGIByO8IP_6UhK6WFoypKT91PPz9cv2ggddjHxtOIR9DVx5x3Cj_Vv4G_oZDCA-4MqC1WTWWDP0JRKlA-6h_xw6k6YRYbRyKCciDRHMsMT1FSW-/s1600/DSCF7334.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8kRKmZ9LF2DM3PI8qHKOofCc94WAfclGIByO8IP_6UhK6WFoypKT91PPz9cv2ggddjHxtOIR9DVx5x3Cj_Vv4G_oZDCA-4MqC1WTWWDP0JRKlA-6h_xw6k6YRYbRyKCciDRHMsMT1FSW-/s400/DSCF7334.JPG" /></a>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-33491914546856010522012-11-09T06:30:00.000+00:002012-11-09T06:30:46.687+00:00How did it go?
I'll tell it in pictures.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gZGOLlS1h8cjc1t4OPZeWDGat_lkzyPN5csLNp_FqilRlAYOm1kK1PVlL68DCi0CqBklNg3M8n1qwn6uKiVS8DP1smJLOejEVr6e_8gRWJeqvFOpiTwbjMXbnUN7YtlqauQhIni750Yx/s1600/DSCF7307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gZGOLlS1h8cjc1t4OPZeWDGat_lkzyPN5csLNp_FqilRlAYOm1kK1PVlL68DCi0CqBklNg3M8n1qwn6uKiVS8DP1smJLOejEVr6e_8gRWJeqvFOpiTwbjMXbnUN7YtlqauQhIni750Yx/s400/DSCF7307.JPG" /></a></div>
I haven't tried a definitive head count for the photo. But here we are, on the church porch out of the rain, photographed by a passing pastor because he had not been part of the workshop. I don't understand the desire to pose for a photo you won't ever see, but it's widespread.</p>
To go back to be beginning of the day: Rachel arrived on time by bus and came down to the market with the women who had been waiting at the church for me. I had already bought 10 avocados and around 40 bananas and stowed them in Antoine's boot alongside yesterday's purchases and our overnight bags. I extracted the nail brush for cleaning potatoes and half the party returned to the kitchen to start scrubbing spuds and lighting charcoal. The market slowly woke up and we managed to buy everything I wanted except cauliflowers and cabbages.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Here is my most unexpected find - tiny mushrooms. They are a local delicacy, usually fried with tomatoes. My suggestion of garlic and a white sauce was greeted with surprise but later eaten with gusto.</p>
I can't show you all the greens brought in because they were quickly seized and processsed as different women unpacked their baskets. However, there was plenty. (The little tables - painted in the Rwandese colours of green for the land, blue for the lake and yellow for the sunshine - are used for the feeding programme.)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Somebody found lots of lettuce, which I divided into tender for salad and tough for mixing with the other cooked greens. There was wonderful rocket too, and parsley, leaf celery, local spinach and spinach beet. In the brief discussion after the meal most women said everything had beeen delicious except the raw lettuce, mixed with celery, rocket, slivers of red onion and lemon juice. We brought it back to Kigali where it was happily eaten with supper.</p>
Half way through the morning the rain arrived. And stayed. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Everything was taken under cover onto the back porch of the Compassion office or into the three little kitchens. Those with umbrellas acted as runners, fetching flour or salt or oil as required. Others braved the rain and I think I was the only one who slipped.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNDnepDC66jmyXcjMnOUf_SdcuklyPpr6HlAIyYA3nbjly5X88eVfVr7eOwPjyviVyCh4jiwupv0nhLV8ZrAYkm65EMKoTJ3eBaSWf5hSHPTzDFlre76UPjim2182I_S_LAUkR5I7Ib84i/s1600/DSCF7291.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNDnepDC66jmyXcjMnOUf_SdcuklyPpr6HlAIyYA3nbjly5X88eVfVr7eOwPjyviVyCh4jiwupv0nhLV8ZrAYkm65EMKoTJ3eBaSWf5hSHPTzDFlre76UPjim2182I_S_LAUkR5I7Ib84i/s400/DSCF7291.JPG" /></a></div>
Every dry space was commissioned. This dark store room shelters pineapple, orange segments, peanut sauce, a mixed salad and a stir fry.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4c5Tvedh0iJLklIJqckFkVofJw0r7yp-MQjFQZ0WP3mPup8I-Y7g7M78zUWia-17LtEXjwZHMeC5zlYguX9D7GTXzRWcyg501den0JJEH7n4W-qd9ylQW_oMVjkaDLpPdOik3_V73wGp/s1600/DSCF7292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4c5Tvedh0iJLklIJqckFkVofJw0r7yp-MQjFQZ0WP3mPup8I-Y7g7M78zUWia-17LtEXjwZHMeC5zlYguX9D7GTXzRWcyg501den0JJEH7n4W-qd9ylQW_oMVjkaDLpPdOik3_V73wGp/s320/DSCF7292.JPG" /></a></div>
The cooking was completed more or less on time and a final procession carried all the dishes under umbrellas to the church. 30+<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicBJTf0xFnlQVININhJwV_26nGOnLE8xCVcU8HY5928Ah1Yesptsflla4swaKTbSk6o0hrmVl3aO_wABn3H7CUlWhmknFJ79Ln8M463zPR8fXXZCGe9toVW8QeGmFHGZ19hHRfy8S7k6Sd/s1600/DSCF7293.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicBJTf0xFnlQVININhJwV_26nGOnLE8xCVcU8HY5928Ah1Yesptsflla4swaKTbSk6o0hrmVl3aO_wABn3H7CUlWhmknFJ79Ln8M463zPR8fXXZCGe9toVW8QeGmFHGZ19hHRfy8S7k6Sd/s400/DSCF7293.JPG" /></a></div>
women, 2 teachers and 5 guests had plenty to eat and drink. In the picture Rachel is pouring the passion fruit juice into 40 cups while hungry women heap their plates. They were well satisfied and so was I.</p>
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-35461401283714100082012-11-07T20:20:00.000+00:002012-11-08T07:19:41.745+00:00Putting on the final show 2
We don't have lunch by the lake, as I proposed. The petrol guage has jumped
from half full to nearly empty so we drive the 12 or 13 miles to the nearest
filling stations, in Ruhengeri. In the gap between ordering lunch and
getting it - often a full hour - I make a list of desirable ingredients that
may not be available in the local market at Rugarama. After eating we drive
to the market - the one where Rachel and I shopped for the Batwa feasts last
year. (Did I tell you about the little girl here who after running her
fingers up and down my arm and looking under my sleeve, surreptitiously
licked me to see if the white would come off?)</p>
Antoine parks at the side of the market but doesn't want to leave the car
unattended, so I'm on my own. First I visit the shops outside the market
proper. I get a cheese at the fourth attempt, and a 2 kilo bag of white
flour. (The supermarkets in Kigali have 500g bags which would be better, but
never mind.) In a small wholesaler's I price a box of 12 cartons of fruit
juice, needing at least 8, but it seems very expensive.</p>
I put the early purchases in the car and set off for the interior of the
market. My eye is caught by a sack of raw peanuts. I buy a kilo for 1000rwf
(one pound sterling and no pound sign on this keyboard) then a quarter kilo
of peanut flour for Rachel's sauce. By now I am being helped or hindered by
5 or 6 boys of probably around 12 -14 as well as the stall minder who is not
much older. It takes a while to sort out the weights for 250g. I add 2
sachets of tomato puree at 200 each and a bottle of vinegar substitute for
600, though they will also be available in Rugarama. Back to the car nearby.
Turning to the market again, I have two of the boys jostling at my side.
'No,' I say, 'I don't need help.' One leaves.</p>
I buy a kilo of green beans for 500, 4 large lemons for 300 (probably too
much), 4 pineapples for 1000 (ditto), a bunch of garlic for 300, a piece of
ginger for 50 and two large wooden spoons, initially 300 each, for 500. I
see no papaya and decide not to spend time searching out sesame seeds. The
boy is always there, peering into the pocket of my handbag where I have put
all the money allocated for lunch and making sure I close the zip promptly,
wanting to carry my bags, pointing at other things I don't need today.</p>
I could pay him to carry the bags, but it's not far to the car and I am too
irritated to be generous. Antoine, observing the situation on my arrival,
says it isn't good to give money directly to beggars. I am not convinced
either way.</p>
Charcoal cookers, crudely made of gritty clay, are on sale at 300 each.
'That is so cheap it would be wise to get some', is Antoine's opinion. We
buy 4.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcQnQ7t_sRWY5iZ8Bm56oGJHfZQLNUrQEOsNMZlCJKi-Yegq708iUqKiBnZOgQQYe3Wk2dmKffXTNkDFL2KjMcdyB6IDmDbllcHqYipVJVUp7US2BJOoAiBeNM3FnoqQj0eo3Wkvk9K4ro/s1600/DSCF7288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcQnQ7t_sRWY5iZ8Bm56oGJHfZQLNUrQEOsNMZlCJKi-Yegq708iUqKiBnZOgQQYe3Wk2dmKffXTNkDFL2KjMcdyB6IDmDbllcHqYipVJVUp7US2BJOoAiBeNM3FnoqQj0eo3Wkvk9K4ro/s320/DSCF7288.JPG" /></a></div><i>Here are the four clay charcoal burners and one of the more expensive kind</i></p>
Then we drive round to the juice wholesaler, since 12 cartons from
her cost less than 8 elsewhere. To get me my change she sends one minion to
change a 2000 note into two of 1000 and another to break a 100f coin into
50, two 20s and a 10. We wait at least 5 minutes to complete the
transaction, then we can drive off.</p>
Too late I realise that, distracted by my 'helper', I forgot to go back for
some good looking cauliflowers. I hope they may also be found locally in the
morning.
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-86738640165703379902012-11-06T17:26:00.000+00:002012-11-07T20:17:45.331+00:00Putting on the final show
Several times I was asked about the composition of the group for the final
workshop, today and tomorrow. I think I expressed myself clearly. The group
was to comprise 10 women from Rugarama and 10 from Burera, making my usual
total of 20.</p>
When Antoine and I arrive in good time for this morning's start there are
already 23. During the next 15 minutes another 10 come into the church, well
on the way to 20 from each village. What to do?</p>
I don't think I can send any away - they have all been invited. Identifying
the breakdown in communication would be a waste of time and effort.
Yesterday we had the opposite problem of only 5, then 7, then finally 13,
being present out of the expected 20. So at least I have a little extra
lunch money in hand.</p>
I outline the programme for today: comments on successes and failures in
growing veg since my visit a year ago; describing and handing over the final
batch of seeds, including some new to Agrotec in Kigali since March; reading
and discussing the vitamin and mineral notes; planning for cooking
tomorrow.</p>
The first woman to speak produces a handful of plants that she has grown but
doesn't know how to use: a large shiny leaf of spinach beet, a sad sprig of
parsley, some leaves and flowers of rocket, a tough leaf and a thick flower
stalk from lettuce. Another gives a bunch of first class parsley, which I
wish I could keep in that condition till tomorrow. Several more leaves of
spinach beet are added to the collection.</p>
The hesitation over parsley and leaf beet surprises me. Some, it turns out,
have been using them along with other greens. I acknowledge the Rwandan
cultural reluctance to try new foods. I tell the class about the lettuce
gone to seed at Gahanga, and about somebody at Mutura (actually Alphonse) bringing me a giant rocket plant
at arm's length because he thought it might well be poisonous, it tasted so
disgusting. I ask the women to bring some of what they have grown for us to
use tomorrow. We shall have to do without lettuce, however, for it has all
bolted. They were particularly suspicious, they say, when the plants came up
different colours. I show them some pictures of mixed salad leaves from my
invaluable seed and plant catalogues. 'Oh!' they say.</p>
I'm sorry I didn't manage to do a better job of explaining what I was giving
them a year ago. But this workshop is in response to a request from the
Burera representative at the conference in Kigali, so I am doing my best now
to fill in some gaps. Antoine tells me several times in the course of the
morning about how different things are here from in town.</p>
I have texted Rachel, who is coming by the early bus from Kigali tomorrow,
to warn her of the large number and ask her to buy beetroot and cucumber,
which are not available in the village market. I had thought I might manage
this last round of cooking without her, especially since Antoine has had
some experience of my cooking for his family. With these numbers, however, I
shall be very glad of her experience and her calm.</p>
While the women are in small groups, reading the handouts, Antoine and I go
to look at the kitchen we are to use tomorrow. It belongs to a local group of the long-established US charity
called Compassion, who seem to provide basic food to large groups.
They have half a dozen huge cooking pots, plastic buckets with lids as
serving vessels, and 50 plates. There are two fireplaces for cooking with
wood, but no charcoal cookers. The two staff showing us round are keen to be
helpful. If I make a list of our requirements they will see what they can
do. I thank them and go back to the group.</p>
I keep half an hour free after the vitamins and minerals to make some plans for
tomorrow: it is barely enough. I have listed what still needs to be found:
smaller cooking pots and charcoal cookers, large cooking spoons, knives,
trays for preparation and serving fruit and salads, dishes and ladles for
serving.</p>
Other groups have done well at bringing in what was needed, but these women
are slow to respond. I wonder if they are ashamed of their shabby pots and
pans and their knives without handles. I stress that everything can be taken
home again. I say we shall be there all day if we have only a few saucepans
but many dishes to cook, and that I would prefer not to serve the food on
banana leaves.</p>
Some tentative offers are made. Antoine takes over. We need to write down
the names, he says. Eventually we have offers of 6 saucepans and 5 charcoal
cookers, 2 cooking spoons, 9 trays and 10 serving spoons. Knives and serving
dishes we leave to chance after a general request.</p>
Then we start on the food. One woman will order the liver today and collect
it early tomorrow: atypically, she says she will use her own money and I can
pay her back. Another offers 2 litres of milk from her cow. 3 will meet
Antoine and me when the market starts at 9 and load his car with a sack of
charcoal, 15 kilos of potatoes, 3 kilos of rice, four packets of pasta, plus
what fruit and veg is available. There are lively responses to the request
to bring home grown veg - we may disappear under a mountain of spinach.</p>
I'll tell you after tomorrow how things work out, and post some pictures
when I can.
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-84915408793188972222012-11-02T15:25:00.002+00:002012-11-09T10:43:04.793+00:00Rain <b>Written Weds and Thurs</b></p>
Tropical storm Sandy, wreaking havoc in the USA, is leading the news bulletins from the BBC and <i>Deutsche Welle</i>. I learn from the internet that there have also been devastating floods in Argentina and Sri Lanka as well as in Haiti from Sandy in its earlier phase. Lives and livelihoods are being lost. The death toll mounts</p>
Here it is merely raining, I think. Last night's downpour trickled under the door on to my floor again, but I now know where the puddles will form and can pick up anything that might be damaged, while giving thanks for a sound roof.</p>
This afternoon the clouds were gathering but I had to go into town to make photocopies of Rachel's translations of my notes on nutrition. If any are spare after my 3 remaining groups, I will leave them for others to use. Photocopying is done near my bus terminus by a group of friendly rivals who swoop on any customer. 'Choose me.' 'No, me.' 'Why not me?' I had a big order last week, shared between two operators. Today several crowded round as I took out my originals and I parcelled out the work between three. After the original competition they share machines and paper supplies.</p>
While they were at work - wheeling the copiers under cover, making the copies, tapping on calculators for the elementary arithmetic of 20FRW per side, sending out for change, finding an invoice chit and a rubber stamp to make it official - the rain began in earnest. After 10 minutes or so I was offered a stool. Another 15 or 20 minutes and a comparative lull allowed me to splash the 50 yrds to T2000, the Chinese supermarket occupying two floors of a smart new building, relocated from a dingy basement nearby.</p>
Here as in many new buildings it's required to have one's bags inspected and to pass through a scanner. Usually this is a trivial annoyance but today access was blocked by people sheltering and I had to work quite hard to get in.</p>
I had come to enquire again about an oven thermometer. Like many in Kigali, the household where I'm staying has added a gas cooker to the traditional charcoal - the cost of cooking is about the same either way. But there is no regulator for the oven. I'm learning to turn the gas up or down according to the sight and sound of what's being cooked. But I'm expected to demonstrate cake making and I don't want to waste good ingredients. Toasted cheese for lunch on Sunday was hard work and not very good - rubbery cheese and melt-in-the-mouth white bread; roast veg for 9 in the evening took longer than I'd expected - most things do, in the kitchen as elsewhere - and were then gratifyingly well received.</p>
No thermometer though, despite assurances a few days ago.</p>
I got back to the bus under my umbrella OK for what is usually a 20 minute journey, sat in traffic for well over an hour, and was very glad when Antoine texted that he would meet me from the bus.</p>
As I write, while a visitor is welcomed and eating dinner is delayed, the TV news has pictures of flooding on the other side of Kigali - and four killed. Heavy rain rushes down the steep hillsides, sweeps away flimsy foundations and the roofs fall in. </p>
The Bugesera district, where I'm teaching this week, is in the dry south east. When I ask the group in Katarara, on my third visit, to tell me of their successes and failures with growing vegetables, the only topic of interest is the chronic lack of rain. Actually this rainy season is wetter than usual and uncultivated land looks green between cultivated patches of beans, beans and beans interspersed with cassava. However, the rains have arrived only recently.</p>
In the dry season not only does the usual piped water supply dry up and the crops shrivel - even finding enough water to drink is a problem. The women go down to the lake and fill jerry cans, then use the newly introduced water purifying tablets. The suggestion of making all that effort to carry water and give it to the garden makes them laugh grimly. Yes, it would save money spent on food at the dearest times of the year but it would be too much hard work.</p>
I ask if there are ways of storing rain water. A few houses have gutters now and they are compulsory on new public buildings. The conversation about the price of domestic water tanks I've had many times. I wonder why they don't dig pits; the clay soil could be pounded into an impermeable lining even without plastic sheeting, which I've seen in use elsewhere in Rwanda. No, they don't think they could do that. Rain comes and then it goes.</p>
Antoine's comment as we drive back is not new either: it's a matter of changing minds.</p>
Minds could need changing in relation to climate chaos, too. When I hear, in Rwanda where even the main roads have many times more pedestrians than bicycles - ridden or wheeled laden like donkeys - and many more bicycles than cars, of New Yorkers having to walk for two hours to get to work because there is no power to pump the fuel for their cars, I must confess to moments of <i>schadenfreude</i>. Could this be a wake up call for some changes of mind?</p>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-31017855373373611592012-10-29T07:22:00.002+00:002012-10-29T07:24:18.754+00:00What a good project!
I wish I had had time to visit this one. Rwanda Aid have a street children's village in Kamembe. I can't quite envisage that, but I suppose it's a small complex for sleeping, eating and getting quasi-parental support. An American Peace Corps volunteer has a scheme there close to my heart.</p>
Before the rainy season, she started the children on making compost. The difficulties of that are persuading the children to sort rubbish into what will rot and what won't, while also persuading curious observers that this is not an old-fashioned general rubbish pit, and therefore a bad thing.</p>
With the coming of the rain - late this year - it is then time to plant seeds in a prepared bed, give them shade and water as necessary, learn to distinguish edible plants from weeds, and protect them from predators of all kinds. This phase is now under way.</p>
When it is time for harvest there will be lessons on cooking: being scrupulous and consistent about hygiene; choosing methods that preserve micro-nutrients; putting all the vegetable waste back into the compost: not breathing smoke; eating as many different foods as possible, even in small quantities, for optimum nutrition.</p>
And what child will not be attracted, and remain interested, by the promise of FOOD!
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-85933830923397879132012-10-28T10:01:00.001+00:002012-10-28T10:50:01.940+00:00Networking comes good<b>Thursday 25 October</b></p>
Felicien is quite outspoken. Chemical fertiliser and pesticides poison the earth and poison people. What a relief to hear those words from the mouth of a young Rwandan! He is 25. He works for a small British charity, Rwanda Aid (www.rwanda-aid.org), based 100 yards from my guesthouse.</p>
Alphonse and I are meeting him at the suggestion of Mary, friend of Dorothy and Vern (with whom I stayed in Byumba last week), retired from a career in NGOs and the UN, and now a VSO volunteer director at Rwanda Aid. It turns out that Felicien and Alphonse know each other from church: Felicien's wife works on the student support team at Friends School Kamembe. (I learnt yesterday from Dieudonne, the new head, that over half the students are genocide survivors or orphans, so support is essential.)</p>
This morning I was trying to be tactful in expressing my dislike of chemical treatments. Before the class assembled, Odette, the pastor at Cyete, wanted me to see her garden, where she has been growing food since my first visit.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA2z2Ba49AJpom1OxYHC7RYxU9tmLnZspRFlYJA-0xeuazxXZ9BhjrFAYcVQMctqtVfKqhou_kAoaEioghc43yTWJcWevRSej740v4OVfLWZv5mXHT1Er4W5VytZbC3Cl19nS-DN-8Fv7g/s1600/DSCF7231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA2z2Ba49AJpom1OxYHC7RYxU9tmLnZspRFlYJA-0xeuazxXZ9BhjrFAYcVQMctqtVfKqhou_kAoaEioghc43yTWJcWevRSej740v4OVfLWZv5mXHT1Er4W5VytZbC3Cl19nS-DN-8Fv7g/s320/DSCF7231.JPG" /></a></div><i>Odette and Alphonse with the unmodernised market behind</i></p>
She has the ingredients for several large compost heaps,
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirycGpAOa5xScSkh9PEx8SxGKTqcUnCaFOMBfTkeE6SIRWB5eVfakHQJbTlmDiBmQr6oRi-GgguVRYSeIhmrdP3A6R9Vr5W87FOIAHsx7dWiWBBDyGGmNjgAHJZxUOwpH1BveFwRB6Ns25/s1600/DSCF7233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirycGpAOa5xScSkh9PEx8SxGKTqcUnCaFOMBfTkeE6SIRWB5eVfakHQJbTlmDiBmQr6oRi-GgguVRYSeIhmrdP3A6R9Vr5W87FOIAHsx7dWiWBBDyGGmNjgAHJZxUOwpH1BveFwRB6Ns25/s320/DSCF7233.JPG" /></a></div>
not yet assembled, bought from whomever is responsible for cleaning the old-fashioned market when the traders have abandoned their debris. But she uses chemical fertiliser to boost the growth of her plants after starting them with natural compost.</p>
She is planting a variety of potato new to this region and has been told to spray with insecticide every week. I suggest she might wait to see if she gets any pests, as the insecticide kills the benefical insects as well as the harmful ones. This is my first attempt, she says. I'd better do what they tell me.</p>
Later, in class, I ask who uses artificial fertiliser. All but three. One of those says she gets better yields using only compost and manure. The others are dubious. It's not easy to go against the Monsanto orthodoxy promoted by officials at every level</p>
It has been raining on and off all morning, often too loud on the tin roof for teaching, so I am short of time. I focus on the reasons for eating a varied diet - Odette has said the women need to know why to eat what they are starting to grow. I can't give recipes for plant tea or liquid manure. I can't even discuss the ingredients for compost, to revise what I taught last time. What I can do is encourage the group to look for information and support from local experts, who will know more than I do about local conditions. I mention my planned meeting with Felicien. Odette knows him slightly.</p>
With Mary's encouragement Felicien takes Alphonse and me out to the farm where he does five-day organic trainings.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_cmziQFsn9M0oAnY7HHYy8gE37rfpH8ieXXQkkdWorzVON5Febz_Pt8KLgZZlbU4MK2-nTRbfp_GmbCBpZiBbdEOGSy938xjTum5Q-Ia2g1brduWDJbr9_uMteECgbLe5MmqmAfKDVyk/s1600/DSCF7241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_cmziQFsn9M0oAnY7HHYy8gE37rfpH8ieXXQkkdWorzVON5Febz_Pt8KLgZZlbU4MK2-nTRbfp_GmbCBpZiBbdEOGSy938xjTum5Q-Ia2g1brduWDJbr9_uMteECgbLe5MmqmAfKDVyk/s400/DSCF7241.JPG" /></a></div>
<i>Here is the kitchen garden in front of the training and accommodation block</i></p>
There are kitchen garden beds, pigs, cows, chickens. I learn later there is a widespread problem with rabbits weakened by inbreeding succumbing to disease, so we see no rabbits. He has a sequence of compost heaps and a tree nursery for fruit and fodder trees which he gives the students to plant at home. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_Zj1ylFb-woQHVDKIgqUrX6jzd-pWxT2P5rKGd_WebUIXM-Kap4KkKoQ_otKYzaCsQi7ix1YT7G4I5yvfpW6E8u46XL2yWMJheSpmsMRwfFRJZSZVPjl5WGXiDZeM7_wwxLo44qO1Z-0/s1600/DSCF7247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_Zj1ylFb-woQHVDKIgqUrX6jzd-pWxT2P5rKGd_WebUIXM-Kap4KkKoQ_otKYzaCsQi7ix1YT7G4I5yvfpW6E8u46XL2yWMJheSpmsMRwfFRJZSZVPjl5WGXiDZeM7_wwxLo44qO1Z-0/s320/DSCF7247.JPG" /></a></div>
At one side of the site is a demonstration smallholding, to show what can be achieved on a modest plot. Students who practise what they learn on the first course may be invited back for animal husbandry training and leave with a piglet.</p>
He agrees to train six women - two from each of the groups where I am working this week, so they can train the others. It will cost them nothing, but they need to be free to leave their families for the residential course, where children cannot be accommodated. Alphonse undertakes to liaise with the pastors and the groups. I hope the women come forward.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXHbnvUKjQ99PvIHlGGm6v3TWwJdZGA0QCtwZibOzKKFXXVFqTDHYL_7zgjZ2vr6KEdeRGbNbe4FhZPs3uIKAonN3s2i25azm4ofWi1o54HH0R1NdV5_g0VQbw38OnT2-IZmoKQj9ec6yE/s1600/DSCF7232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXHbnvUKjQ99PvIHlGGm6v3TWwJdZGA0QCtwZibOzKKFXXVFqTDHYL_7zgjZ2vr6KEdeRGbNbe4FhZPs3uIKAonN3s2i25azm4ofWi1o54HH0R1NdV5_g0VQbw38OnT2-IZmoKQj9ec6yE/s400/DSCF7232.JPG" /></a></div><i>I was permitted to photograph this wonderful bundle of pumpkin leaves and bean leaves in Cyete market, but not the trader who carried it on her head. Alphonse asked if you could harvest the beans as well as the leaves. She replied that the plants yield better if you take off some of the leaves.</i>
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-36435926476344761332012-10-27T10:00:00.002+01:002012-11-27T10:01:45.870+00:00What does it take?
<b>Tuesday 23 October, in Kamembe</b></p>
Using a coin, I scratch the black covering to reveal the number on my airtime card.Shall I blow it away like everybody else, or brush it into the plastic bin with mesh sides in the corner of my guesthouse room? Will it make any difference?</p>
There is very little litter in Rwanda. Offenders can be fined. Rubbish bins are now appearing on the streets in towns. But the habit of letting drop whatever is not needed - like the top and bottom of the plastic bottle used for the column of stones in the planting sack - is hard to break. Indeed, what to do with a non-returnable water bottle - always plastic, and replacing the recycled glass of Fanta etc - is a problem.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixjRl4086pTcQAyZAMDeml0yYr-7YP57pAg1oHJ0vc1MNYpH0wZFhrV9dYJiOPJ2jG2GM_WLAA4j0Y7ytYkSFFsfHk9UvSVPU66fyIp0Yn5T8wF6M9vrDFiEYGKn0xbNdgcyeF9JnqXK6t/s1600/DSCF5668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="150" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixjRl4086pTcQAyZAMDeml0yYr-7YP57pAg1oHJ0vc1MNYpH0wZFhrV9dYJiOPJ2jG2GM_WLAA4j0Y7ytYkSFFsfHk9UvSVPU66fyIp0Yn5T8wF6M9vrDFiEYGKn0xbNdgcyeF9JnqXK6t/s200/DSCF5668.JPG" /></a></div> <i></p> </p>Sweet fizzy drinks are popular for the morning break</i></p> </p></p>
Don't put it in the rubbish/compost pit, where in simpler times everything would decay; don't drop it down the toilet, whose contents may now be used on the fields after a year or so; don't burn it and release poisonous fumes. In towns there is now rubbish collection - out of sight, out of mind, as my students in Gisenyi agreed. But yes, they could keep vegetable waste and make a little compost, now they have seen the sack planting. They had never thought about the landfill.</p>
A few years ago at the John Woolman School, near Nevada City in California, above the central valley where a single field can stretch for several miles and the ploughed topsoil blows away on the wind, 14 year old Norah had been set an assignment: to take an everyday object and find out as much as she could about its components. She had chosen a cup of coffee to go (ie takeaway). She could trace the coffee and the milk; she was hopeful that the source of the inks and the cardboard would not be beyond investigation; but the manufacturer of plastic lids refused to reveal anything. She began wondering why.</p>
Particularly since that conversation with Norah, I ask myself more often what irreplaceable resources have gone into what I buy and what I use. How much should I refuse or give up? The plastic bag for carrying my shopping home is easy: take my own bag. Cheap cotton grown with pesticides that poison soil and people is tempting but avoidable: buy only fair trade organic. And what of flying? Never visit Africa or N America again? Holiday only by bus, train and ferry? I'm seriously thinking about it.</p>
<b>Wednesday 24th</b></p>
For about 30 minutes during the long bus ride on Monday I tried consistently to decipher the project announcement boards along the road. While new road signage is appearing in lower case, these boards are uniformly in block capitals and usually in French.</p>
REPUBLIQUE DU RWANDA</p>
PROVINCE DU SUD (for example)</p>
DISTRICT DE XXXXXXXXXXX (sometimes)</P>
SECTEUR DE YYYYYYYYYYYYY (sometimes)</P>
</P>
And only then a description of the work, followed by the agency or agencies responsible.</p>
Here are the ones I noted: wetland management including 7 fish ponds; a rural burial site; 31 hectares of forest regeneration; a block of public latrines, composting style; improvement of a (feeder)road surface; a post office; a modern market; an integrated centre for artisans; extension of a drinking water system; a court house for enforcement of law and justice; a small hydro-electric scheme - and there it is, deep down beside the road.</p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS0DzpS1K4zG-pbHEJ8swsbSFhkpp_y-XFfOmN90IY3ggj4OCKaBKnFkUy3OS88X4Z4ZQDV51gonBpY9qYOlBC-_xKFE1FJmWmHBUwLfnwqAfqUtNTtCKP51ppzsKa-QlaH2gg3SN2UjsM/s1600/DSCF7237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS0DzpS1K4zG-pbHEJ8swsbSFhkpp_y-XFfOmN90IY3ggj4OCKaBKnFkUy3OS88X4Z4ZQDV51gonBpY9qYOlBC-_xKFE1FJmWmHBUwLfnwqAfqUtNTtCKP51ppzsKa-QlaH2gg3SN2UjsM/s400/DSCF7237.JPG" /></a></div>
<i>This board, adjacent to the market in Cyete, is unusual in being in English</i></p>
Would one wish any of those cancelled, in the interests of resource protection, climate stabilisation, reduction of carbon consumption or anything else? 'Our development here in Rwanda is at an embryonic stage', I was told yesterday by Mobile (pronounced with
3 syllables), the discipline master at Kamembe Friends School and assistant pastor at the Friends Church. For his introductory words to the group of women yesterday we were back with Genesis 2 and I was delighted to hear his interpretation - that where we live is our garden of Eden and we have a responsibility to tend it and use its fruits to give our children good health. He was delighted by Rachel's translation of my notes on vitamins and minerals, with lists of locally available foods. 'How did you learn all this? This is exactly what we need.'*</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1qVZjv2jPd4GzRCV9_dZ5zUBQtt9uS4S6YG1yJ0uL5hCSIYQfxbEJKFynTQ5N-P732DhDPJmFqI4bCHBtKTb6KblDduQpxUsZXMndYgbLYphsihZc_LDSWxRJhM5QfmSoDqsKJBris4W5/s1600/DSCF7218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1qVZjv2jPd4GzRCV9_dZ5zUBQtt9uS4S6YG1yJ0uL5hCSIYQfxbEJKFynTQ5N-P732DhDPJmFqI4bCHBtKTb6KblDduQpxUsZXMndYgbLYphsihZc_LDSWxRJhM5QfmSoDqsKJBris4W5/s400/DSCF7218.JPG" /></a></div> <i>Mobile, with his son Triomphe, waits with other parents as lunch is prepared on Wednesday</i></p>
Mobile phones make a huge contribution to everyday life here. At least until the fibre optic cabling throughout the country, laid at President Kagame's personal insistence, is enabled with a reliable power supply, the phone masts also carry internet traffic, so I can read email and post this blog. I'm not seriously worried about the tiny amounts of black dust from the scratch cards, whatever the ingredients. But there is accumulating evidence of the harm done by unseen microwave radiations, not only to human beings but also, for example, to aspens and tadpoles.</p>
Something else I've noticed increasingly over the 5 years I've been visitng Rwanda is mechanisation replacing human labour. The surfaces of many roads outside the arterial network are much improved by stone-lined drains - still dug with picks and cemented stone by stone - and surfaces compacted by steamrollers, often then tarmacked or cobbled. (Are they still called steamrollers when not steam powered?) But where is the work for the displaced labourers, not to mention the cohorts of new secondary school and college graduates?
Of course development brings benefits. And of course I think that by my work here I am contributing to the right kind of development through individual empowerment, or I wouldn't be here. But only the most naive would believe that benefit is only or always to the intended beneficiaries rather than to powerful interests and individuals. Ideally I would like to remember, every time I travel or shop, not only what does this give me but also what does it take from our finite planet.</p>
*A significant part of the answer to that question lies in two sources. The first is a comprehensive textbook and practical guide for nutrition workers, now 20 years old but available on Amazon: <i>Nutrition for Developing Countries</i> by Felicity Savage King and Ann Burgess. I'm leaving two copies with Rwandan colleagues and hope they will be well used. The second is the work of Mary Abukutsa-Onyango, a professor at Jomo Kenyatta University of Technology and Agriculture in Nairobi, whose analysis of the nutrient content of African and exotic (eg cabbage) vegetables has enabled me to add many local Rwandan vegetables, often despised, to my lists of beneficial foods.
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-55355453828591813572012-10-21T09:56:00.000+01:002012-11-27T09:54:01.863+00:00Technical update and some sceneryI now know how to insert paragraph breaks - thank you, Michael - and have gone back through previous posts making them easier on the eye. I have also added a few photos, but without editing. My attempt to load a video clip was unsuccessful, however.</p>
Here is another view of Muhabura above Mutura</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbd9QH_1UJ7OQIZ8wpo6RCyBSF2IGt7k-H7w6rxcSR6hGBQHF2HG9mTnc94GofIIzBDMT_E0H-Zo7vZAKGtBWQKK-SL5VmRsX5k6XZYLIoXz_6sFTGXk3NIYMRqhIEzti1cepJh7o2Pvu3/s1600/DSCF7095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbd9QH_1UJ7OQIZ8wpo6RCyBSF2IGt7k-H7w6rxcSR6hGBQHF2HG9mTnc94GofIIzBDMT_E0H-Zo7vZAKGtBWQKK-SL5VmRsX5k6XZYLIoXz_6sFTGXk3NIYMRqhIEzti1cepJh7o2Pvu3/s400/DSCF7095.JPG" /></a></div></p>
</p>This view from the road between Gisenyi and Ruhengeri shows tea in the valley bottom. I was able to take a stationary shot because we waited 20 minutes at a spot check for smuggled goods, while the bus in front and all its passengers were searched.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0rg27EV_-u8-mGeikMbe8_HWBJAaI47B1nt3EulDwdDczF4-Dn-OOCgUEjCqimfGd5kStzDSwTBQQ549U8yDlkk3zomozk60VvjivrjiQC3wkxIO5-Mw07j6tgnZTitNJxFSR9G79qbPz/s1600/DSCF7120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0rg27EV_-u8-mGeikMbe8_HWBJAaI47B1nt3EulDwdDczF4-Dn-OOCgUEjCqimfGd5kStzDSwTBQQ549U8yDlkk3zomozk60VvjivrjiQC3wkxIO5-Mw07j6tgnZTitNJxFSR9G79qbPz/s400/DSCF7120.JPG" /></a></div></p></p>
At the end of Thursday's session in Musura the motos were late, so we walked back towards the main road. I never tire of the folding hills and the cultivation terraces. As you can see from the forest of stakes, this is the season for growing beans.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHaQrAUsVpKZSGAHXaE8RZcvS9ie3oyEx0uQyZb7i3QW-XIRBC7VJqy8OucVJUKaaOD38Y9KVIWofy7lIHCXRFGpvH3wHcuCHAYKoOaI3MYlXNfAaZf3dHPHVppYxD68iACxvaZ4bx061X/s1600/DSCF7170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHaQrAUsVpKZSGAHXaE8RZcvS9ie3oyEx0uQyZb7i3QW-XIRBC7VJqy8OucVJUKaaOD38Y9KVIWofy7lIHCXRFGpvH3wHcuCHAYKoOaI3MYlXNfAaZf3dHPHVppYxD68iACxvaZ4bx061X/s400/DSCF7170.JPG" /></a></div></p></p>
The camp for refugees from DRC dominates the hill top seen from Musura</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOdr1UVbbzN7SOUwqPE3Vgs2vasf8FtT-sIeZ08CAv3hl_013oOYkpNegcR5dkqTmw8JV0cAshEuugMct4UiF0rGcWIsqjo9ce9G1JGyQgngnyKamMZE0AQPAps6ElqQfBK4mLZ0kl33-/s1600/DSCF7166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOdr1UVbbzN7SOUwqPE3Vgs2vasf8FtT-sIeZ08CAv3hl_013oOYkpNegcR5dkqTmw8JV0cAshEuugMct4UiF0rGcWIsqjo9ce9G1JGyQgngnyKamMZE0AQPAps6ElqQfBK4mLZ0kl33-/s400/DSCF7166.JPG" /></a></div></p></p>
Finally for now, and not really scenery, here is the two year old Russian kale in Gaudence's garden.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSI1QKD1DpC6yu41YIwBKgdbKr5NvDlzxkD0nv_mlCT0Y_i8tq83RXNl4A_42y9OMvlKSKJHT6animwS5I9CgvXmnJVul81bdTomdAn-VKZL0YEUm81TYyhDVawKS8_PF_KkwGpcvyvlsm/s1600/DSCF7135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSI1QKD1DpC6yu41YIwBKgdbKr5NvDlzxkD0nv_mlCT0Y_i8tq83RXNl4A_42y9OMvlKSKJHT6animwS5I9CgvXmnJVul81bdTomdAn-VKZL0YEUm81TYyhDVawKS8_PF_KkwGpcvyvlsm/s400/DSCF7135.JPG" /></a></div>
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-70025928468365771422012-10-20T19:22:00.002+01:002012-11-27T09:51:31.582+00:00Another village group
Thursday 17 October</p>
I'm back in Byumba, cool and fresh and with occasional views of the volcanos.
I was to work with an HIV/Aids group, but my contact there, Rachel's brother
Fidele, died in May and the group is 'not ready to work with me'. (His third
wife, Lucille, was in my class in Gisenyi last week.)</p>
So Rachel has made contact with Donata, a church women's leader she knows in
the village of Musura. We set out on motos, down the side of the hill with
the Congolese refugee camp (being extended as the violent disruption in
North Kivu intensifies) at its summit, and round onto an adjacent hill,
looking back over the valley to Byumba.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsS804XVLiYkLu-f9cbp9XvHX0jfsz_VRw6qydIt53h_lfxGh4xxXSflZJ8h712Uw8-fAHCCZ-D9-aZmEeR0Rs8wYQVsVgf2wgJIv8XkZQ0z1mPQ7Q3TU39017fu3DdD7sAHZMSul7ZzL5/s1600/DSCF7150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsS804XVLiYkLu-f9cbp9XvHX0jfsz_VRw6qydIt53h_lfxGh4xxXSflZJ8h712Uw8-fAHCCZ-D9-aZmEeR0Rs8wYQVsVgf2wgJIv8XkZQ0z1mPQ7Q3TU39017fu3DdD7sAHZMSul7ZzL5/s320/DSCF7150.JPG" /></a></div> <i>Looking across to the camp</i>
</p>
The women gather slowly; they seem withdrawn - Rachel says they are shy
because few trainings have come their way. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRG1j-q-TGgfLUz5idy9qhn76sYyMo7udwtYcJ7BH1tw1_8gmhB0hftryNb54eApC6hoPT_JBpXIMEC4t42ZtT1bXRs_ao5ilOEIWcorBRjf73FLXLeBy3apv0479u0L6P4k-Arhh_ueDK/s1600/DSCF7162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRG1j-q-TGgfLUz5idy9qhn76sYyMo7udwtYcJ7BH1tw1_8gmhB0hftryNb54eApC6hoPT_JBpXIMEC4t42ZtT1bXRs_ao5ilOEIWcorBRjf73FLXLeBy3apv0479u0L6P4k-Arhh_ueDK/s320/DSCF7162.JPG" /></a></div><i>Singing while we wait for latecomers</i></p>
The leader has seen Yvette-
Marcelline's planted sacks in town and is curious. The women tell me
they all have some ground for growing food. I wonder whether constructing a sack
might not be the best use of our time but Rachel encourages me to give the
usual practical demonstration. I concur, knowing by now that having a sack
with different seeds in a small space can lead to the shift in mindset first
described to me by Verena from Kamembe: to grow and eat many different
foods.</p>
As usual, we consider the ideal location of a sack: level ground: dappled
shade; protection from envious passers by, destructive children and hungry
goats or chickens; closeness to the kitchen for harvesting and watering.
This church is exposed and somewhat isolated. I ask if a participant living
nearby would like to host us. Alphonsine agrees.</p>
A leisurely ten-minute walk brings us to her house and garden. She points to
a healthy plant of sukumawiki outside (the Swahili name means the one that
gets you through to the end of the week/wik): one of the dark green leafy
vegetables some are learning to eat and others dismiss as fit only for
goats. Round the back is the penned cow with a calf tethered nearby. (It is
forbidden to let cows graze; they are fed two hundred-kilo sackfuls every
day of grasses and other weeds cut with small sickles by children who are
therefore not in school - I suppose there must be some justification for
these arrangements.)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9MOamgACJRwFnPu2_i53yRtC3XeZj4UvtE3-m86sHuXfH_c2uthpV1soRWg244_oZ0U-HBcqF-JEgxsoWKft0rN7BiWa-TnUfo1AQnnpVWnm6bS0CfzUW9yuM1dU9cvZMvxUf_DCFNgT/s1600/DSCF7159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9MOamgACJRwFnPu2_i53yRtC3XeZj4UvtE3-m86sHuXfH_c2uthpV1soRWg244_oZ0U-HBcqF-JEgxsoWKft0rN7BiWa-TnUfo1AQnnpVWnm6bS0CfzUW9yuM1dU9cvZMvxUf_DCFNgT/s320/DSCF7159.JPG" /></a></div><i> Here is the cow beginning on the girl's scant offering
</i>
</p>
We have everything we need. We have bought a small (25 kilo) sack, Rachel
has drunk the water in my bottle so we can cut it top and bottom, there are
small pebbles aplenty, good soil with compost, a knife, a hoe and a bucket,
and good stakes. We choose our spot and the work proceeds.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcEvAlJ0QUB68QCbrokzEbPYCgvcOJDOmXbxbP1oPmSkoj2NQlJV03AoSvGrvbYCmQAKwlkN0dQSaXtMPKg4IZcvZxkRBnSs8pPlMiRt7Arrsfe5BywTMX3oLcBtmqb0HdWBxT2TOLd9O_/s1600/DSCF7157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcEvAlJ0QUB68QCbrokzEbPYCgvcOJDOmXbxbP1oPmSkoj2NQlJV03AoSvGrvbYCmQAKwlkN0dQSaXtMPKg4IZcvZxkRBnSs8pPlMiRt7Arrsfe5BywTMX3oLcBtmqb0HdWBxT2TOLd9O_/s320/DSCF7157.JPG" /></a></div><i>Standing next to the sack, this is the view</i>
</p>
Part two will include cutting and planting the sack, returning to the topics
of looking after our families through good nutrition and hygiene, and
looking after the soil. I've asked the group to think about how they will
distribute the seeds I bring. Perhaps this time all will be sweetness and
light.</p>
<b>Part two</b></p>
Friday 19 Oct</p>
We met and prayed, we walked to Alphonsine's and planted the sack with her
chosen seeds - cauliflower at the bottom, leeks and leaf celery on the
sides, and peppers on the top. I was encouraged to see she had already
prepared another sack but we planted only one.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdy61-KSfKuAFoSGSpkF7aJZL_Ynnr4R4e5yC8cdHn7RcUUmaYGpuxcdzalOTKUWiee3b6lqvMipExjV3hkd9GBzjGl1WiqrRRLRj4X2tvKr2OofNOwMKUur4TMwf4LyRXLypmfVKWExAS/s1600/DSCF7173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdy61-KSfKuAFoSGSpkF7aJZL_Ynnr4R4e5yC8cdHn7RcUUmaYGpuxcdzalOTKUWiee3b6lqvMipExjV3hkd9GBzjGl1WiqrRRLRj4X2tvKr2OofNOwMKUur4TMwf4LyRXLypmfVKWExAS/s320/DSCF7173.JPG" /></a></div><i>Cutting a hole for planting</i></p>
As we walked back to the church, people were gathering. I was told there was
to be a village meeting. I wondered whether my women would be summoned. Half
an hour later they were. But I asked the organiser to stress that they had
only a short time for the training, and to my surprise they were back in 30
minutes. What was it about, I asked? The reply was without enthusiasm - the usual: just
development and peace.</p>
After a little more teaching it was time to describe and distribute the
seeds. The wind rose, the doors banged, we all wrapped up against the cold
with whatever we had. Rain began to blow in through the unglazed windows
along the whole of one side, half way across the floor. Benches were moved
to the far side, then the table followed, cloth billowing and seed packets
threatening to blow out of control. It was far too noisy for teaching.</p>
After half an hour the wind and rain eased. During the downpour I had
divided each kind of seed into two packets. (Small brown money envelopes are
in my teaching kit.) The class moved into two groups according to where they
lived. Each received their share of the seeds and lunch money. The moto
drivers arrived in another surge of rain and were invited in to keep dry.
Soon, thanks and goodbyes were over and so was the rain. There was no excuse
for delaying the exposed journey back to town. If there was any
disgruntlement among the students, I was too cold to notice.
Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7102166239090120239.post-71346251464774981432012-10-16T17:26:00.002+01:002012-10-21T06:29:19.940+01:00Rwandese don't queueRwandese don't queue
Not even the group of 18 women and 2 men invited by Rachel and Gaudence to a conference and advanced training for those who have worked with me, for evaluation and forward planning.</p>
I suppose queueing for additional seed packets to add to the basic eight in everybody's 'goody bag' is seen as a kind of game - a 'light and lively' such as Theoneste - AVP trained - suggests when we are working together.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Wgf4mymgcAkMBe0BG3YF-dQJHZYfAkdn-PghPuFm0Q7dD1QNDV7S13P5YSTKaDaYkvPYeoYtFCf0NBBfSFwiM3G-v5n7mu4mpV4IWZ6b6Xozvls-SBYPI_7NS1XaPdjXCFzBjVtFpaV2/s1600/DSCF7105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Wgf4mymgcAkMBe0BG3YF-dQJHZYfAkdn-PghPuFm0Q7dD1QNDV7S13P5YSTKaDaYkvPYeoYtFCf0NBBfSFwiM3G-v5n7mu4mpV4IWZ6b6Xozvls-SBYPI_7NS1XaPdjXCFzBjVtFpaV2/s320/DSCF7105.JPG" /></a></div><i>One of Theo's games in full swing at Gisenyi</i></p>
We are in the meeting room in the church compound at Kagarama, where this all started for me, as a member of the Friendly FolkDancers in 2008. In my eight project visits for 'Growing together in Rwanda' I have been here many times. This may be the last, but there's scant opportunity for nostalgia. We have work to do.</p>
We have had our morning break, with tea, buns and bananas thoughtfully brought by Rachel because the staff are all exhausted after yesterday's jubilee. (Later, when I take Rachel and Gaudence to a nearby restaurant, I'm glad to see them all being treated to lunch after the clear up and evaluation.) I suggested the women should take a look during the break at the seeds to be distributed <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR6HJK9j6Wqp7NV8BIaA6GaEI8fjDd5RspZXwC3n81733HyDvmWebWS9Az5TXsfz2xev77J8xayON2Ttnb16xn3HgGkq-OvMslcOOMIXpZut-ea6kt00Dqve74PeEs1TFqDVQ-fYRHl0vQ/s1600/DSCF7130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR6HJK9j6Wqp7NV8BIaA6GaEI8fjDd5RspZXwC3n81733HyDvmWebWS9Az5TXsfz2xev77J8xayON2Ttnb16xn3HgGkq-OvMslcOOMIXpZut-ea6kt00Dqve74PeEs1TFqDVQ-fYRHl0vQ/s320/DSCF7130.JPG" /></a></div> <i>Looking to see what's on offer</i></p>
...but perhaps I should have emphasised that they will be asked to choose quickly. Aided by Theo, I get them into a line. At the front of the press, Rachel stands firm, arms outstretched to restrain those behind. I give a simple instruction: take one packet and go round the circle of chairs to rejoin the end of the line for your second pick.</p>
Theo translates and repeats my instruction. I can't say that order is established, but we do get to the point where no packets remain and nobody is complaining. That's good enough.</p>
Queueing may not be their strong point, but these women fill me with hope. They get into regional groups and start planning. They invite me to return in a year or two and see how the work is developing. They are standing on their own feet.Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03196877581383684286noreply@blogger.com0