After my own heart

Written and posted on Sunday 14th

The wife of the newly appointed pastor in Byumba, Yvette Marcelline, is the star of the class from October. It is to their garden that we repaired on Thursday and Friday to construct a keyhole garden. When I asked for compost it came – and nearly free of rubish. As we heaped the soil round the central basket Francois-Xavier, the pastor (and HROC facilitator) suggested cow manure, and that too arrived by the bagful. 'That could be enough', I suggested after 4 or 5 bags had been emptied. 'We have plenty,' he said.

Would they show me where the manure was coming from? They led me round the back of the outhouse, through a low gateway where we had to duck, and onto a small area of compost heaps - turned and new; manure heaps and a pool of black liquid; 3 storey planting of beans, cassava and fruit trees; senna branches with pods, to keep the cows healthy; a glorious view of the hills beyond. Then to the cowshed. Was that a native breed? No, she's a jersey, and we have 3 more out at pasture. (It was her slim build that misled me.) As we completed the circuit F-X showed me the wood stove with a chimney vent to protect the cook from smoke inhalation, and then his newest pride and joy – an avocado plant about a foot high, twice grafted, from which he hopes to get 3 varieties.

When I was doing VSO in Singapore in the mid 60s, travelling between school terms to Borneo, Thailand and Cambodia, I found myself frequently taking pictures of plants and cultivation to send home for my father. (The slides have faded badly: how will today's digital records fare?) In his childhood in Edwardian London he knew hunger. It was from him that I learnt about grafting fruit trees – not something I've yet tried for myself. Is it from his influence that I am doing this work now, encouraging sustainable cultivation and better nutrition? I'm certainly no expert. I wish I could find the way to recruit some volunteers withbettr knowledge and training. Meanwhile I offer what I can; I genuinely protest that there is much my Rwandan students understand far bettter than I do about their soil, their climate, their plant varieties. It was not a reasoned decision that brought me here: I am following a path with heart.

[pics to follow]