If A Pictures Worth a Thousand Words...Lets Try This!

This is ESCAF, the wonderful School where I'm working. The classrooms you see are for grades P4 (fourth grade) through P6 (sixth grade) P3 classes are directly behind P4-P6 and the small brick building you see peeking out on the right, that's the Nursery where I teach! Every morning I walk towards the class slowly one or two heads peeking around the corner and then a rush of children running towards me with shrieks of "MAZUNGU!", what a way to start the day. I can't say they don't make me feel loved each and every day!

These are a few children in my class. I have 58 kids in my class with only three teachers (including myself) imagine the work it is for Mary and Monique to do alone...

The Girls! -try to tell me Kindergartners don't have attitudes! :) (Left to Right: Chance, Harriette, Joyeuse and KuKu) they're always some of the last to leave and sit in the back left corner of class after school and gossip. Kuku and Joyeuse both have mom's who teach at the school- Joyeuse is a spunky girl and Kuku thinks she owns the place, she kind of does! Chance and Harriette have older siblings at ESCAF so they have to wait until they are out of class to pick them up.

This is Charmant, he's a heartbreaker. I took this pictures shortly after he asked me to marry him.

This is Nice- her name, is Nice. It fits her wholeheartedly and she's wonderful. The children in Rwanda must have short, shaved hair until they are done with secondary school. Essentially until the graduate what we'd refer to as high school. Nice used to have long hair but they sent her home yesterday to enforce education rules, today she came back with a shaved head. The chidren were busy rubbing Nice's head today, she thought it was funny so I had to join in too. :)

This is Igor- On the first day of school Mary and Monique introduced me to the class. the explained to me that two of the children wern't normal so we just sit them in the back and leave them. I wasn't quite sure what this meant but kept my eyes on them closely. I quickly learned, I'm NO doctor and not one to diagnos anything- but Igor definatly seems to have a mental handicap of some sort. What it is i'm not sure and that issue is ENTIRELY unaddresed here in Rwanda. The teachers don't give Igor any class work nor do they expect him to participate... I give him class work though. Each day I take the homework to Igor, I work with him on it (even though Mary and Monique tell me not to waste my time) and he GETS IT! He does it with a little help and he LIKES to learn! He knows how to write all his letters, numbers, cut along the lines, color pictures, etc..he just needs a little help and someone to believe in him. Mary and Monique always tease me becuase I tell them that no one gets what a "child services" major is..everyone thinks i'm either a doctor or a teacher. So when Igor went running up to the front of the class to show Mary what he had done one day Mary looked and me and said, "You ARE a doctor! You fixed him!" ...well Igor was never broken...he never will be unless people continue to treat him as though he is. I think it's important, even though i'm half the age of these two teachers who have been teaching for years and years, to teach them a few things too. Like every child is worthy of learning, every child has potential and EVERY child is capable. Well, I promise you- I'm no doctor, but I like to hope I fixed Mary and Moniques perception ofthe "different children". They may not understand handicaps or learning disabilities, and i'm not exactly one to teach them or train them, but I think I did pleanty. Abandon no Child, just as God never abandons nor loses hope in you.

Kessy, she's the shiest, sweetest little angel...just thought you should all be blessed with a little Kessy!

This is Fargy, he's one of the youngest. If you look closely Fargy's front top teeth are rotting. They're decaying and almost disintegrated... Most of my classes teeth are rotting in some sort, it breaks my heart everyday.

If you ask me why I wanted to major in Child Services or why I do what I do..I think this picture pretty much sums it up.

and I leave you again with Charmant, just because I love this picture!

Start of Something New

They say God sleeps in Rwanda, and I say it’s true. I’ve had a rough start to my time here in Kigali. It’s a new surrounding, I’m living with a family who speaks limited English (and I speak ZERO Kinyarwanda- the native language here) and it is nothing at all like last year. NOTHING. I think there’s something to be said for the comfort you find in being surrounded by 13 of your peers while abroad in a new country, you aren’t forced to abandon your American ways, you always have a friend around to back you up or keep you sane- someone who you can miss home with, someone you can talk to about the way you’re feeling and –more importantly, someone who can relate. It’s hard… I won’t lie, I won’t say I didn’t regret my decision my first night here, but with strength from my family and reassurance from friends, It’s getting easier.

This first weekend here was a steady combination of relaxing and over stimulating. Saturday morning I slept in until 8- woke up, unpacked my clothes and put them into my closets, then I went out to the kitchen to eat breakfast with my sisters and afterwards we sat around the family room on our lap tops, (Paula on her dad’s IBM and Sesera on her laptop from school- from the One Lap Top a Child program) and watched prison break in French. (By the way, I don’t speak French either) After an episode or two I got up, showered, and got dressed. By that time my host mom’s brother had shown up as well as another friend of my ‘parents’ for lunch. So we all ate, enjoyed our food and then resided back to our rooms to rest. Once it started getting dark out and I was feeling rested I got up to see what my sister Paula was doing. She was in her room and had just gotten back from hanging out with some friends, we started talking about our friends and then she asked if I had any pictures. So I got out my laptop, pulled up some photos and videos and shared them with her. It was funny because she kept saying my friends and I are, “Very Sexy!” I’m sure she means something along the lines of well dressed or done up (seeing as most of my pictures are from nights out) but translated for her it came out, “Very Sexy!” She was shocked to know that my best friend, Neha, was Indian- not white and could not believe that she was American. Paula told me, “But whites don’t like color, so how are you two best friends?” I told her that whoever told her that was speaking for them self. I explained to her that I don’t see color, I don’t see a person outside and claim to know them inside. I told her when I sit around with my best friends I don’t see three whites, and one Indian. I see four best friends…I talked with her about my friends and I sitting around explaining our religions to each other, Neha explaining how her Indian brothers wedding will take place and the different traditions he must withhold. I told her about Indian Holidays I’ve learned from her and questions she’s come to me about in return. I think Paula felt a sense of comfort in getting to know me better through my pictures of friends and family, and I hope to have erased some stereotypes of whites in her eyes. It also made me proud of my amazing Indian best friend and our wonderful friendship. (I love you Neha!) Following my show and tell I asked to see pictures of hers. She brought me out three big family photo albums. They were mainly family pictures, and a couple here and there of her friends. It was nice to see pictures of Jotham and Esperance (my host parents) as college students, my host siblings as babies and the house I live in now- years ago. Just as we were starting to relax and get to know each other and laugh together- I turned the page. I saw Paula’s face drop and I knew there was a story about these pictures I was now seeing. Pictures of the same twin baby boys, the same 2 women and the same man…I kept my mouth shut and continued flipping the pages, I wasn’t really looking at the photos anymore, more so just trying to get past all the pictures that were making my sister so uncomfortable. As I turned page after page and continued to see the same four people and still not a flinch from Paula I looked up at her and we both shared a moment of silence. I don’t know how I knew. But I just did. It was like God was preparing me for what she was going to say. “They’re dead…” she muttered, and I was frozen. I’ve learned all about the genocide in Rwanda, I’ve seen movies, I’ve seen pictures, and I’ve seen Rwandans with missing limbs, scars and holes in their heads. But her words affected me more than any of that. To see family members, family members of the people who are now MY family, who have had their lives taken 16 years ago in the genocide was a feeling I’d never felt before. The two of us talked for a while about the genocide- I told her what I knew and she told me about her twin baby cousins who were just months old when they were murdered. She told me of her aunts whose lives were taken and uncles too, almost her entire fathers side of the family is gone… I think this is the night we became more than strangers to each other. This is the night that God brought us together. I admire Paula’s strength, and I appreciate her sharing with me…I hope she knows how strong she is, and if she doesn’t, I hope one day I can tell her. After the pictures we went out for dinner, neither one of us talked very much. I think I already had enough on my plate.

Sunday morning was more of the same, sleep in until 8, wake up, eat breakfast, lounge around, shower, and then. GUESTS! They started arriving every 5 minutes. I didn’t even know we were having company over that day but I was soon made aware. Every time someone knew came in you could cut the tension with a knife. The tension that comes when an African spots a white person in their family’s house. Nobody knows how to approach me; do I know how to greet the Rwandan way? What language do I speak? Etc. We quickly all greeted one another, but most of the day’s conversations were carried out in Kinyarwanda. I can’t be mad that I sit in a room full of people and don’t understand a word they say, I am in there country, they shouldn’t have to speak English just for me. So after we ate I went to my room to rest some more while the adults had a “meeting” Paula said they just talk about each other’s lives but they call them meetings. I think Paula is very clever. After a while of resting my host brother Bruce asked me to watch a movie with him, he put in the movie 2012, in ENGLISH! And we began to watch. He asked me if this was true, if the world was really ending. It’s funny how in Rwanda, everyone asks me questions that no one even knows the answer to, thinking that because I’m white- and from America, I know. It’s fun to laugh and them and quickly remind them I’m only human…only God can answer questions like those. They ask me how they can better their schools, their towns, their markets…I continue to remind them, I’m no master of Rwanda- I came to your country because I like it as is. I can give you examples of ways we use in America, but I certainly hold no answers to best suiting your own country, I’d have to of had much more experience than three or four weeks to know answers such as these. After the movie Paula wanted to go on a walk around town, so we left in search of an adventure. As we climbed up the hill just outside their home I quickly sought comfort in the glorious Chez Lando! (Our hotel where we stayed last summer) It was nice to see the familiar area and lovely to remember my stay there 12 months ago. We began walking down the street, facing whispers of “Mazungu!” and people trying to sell us things and talk to us. Paula showed me the stadium, different super markets, some schools and her family’s church. After about an hour or so of walking we headed home, went to our rooms and lights out!

I’m going to summarize the rest of this first full week all together, I have just gotten connected to the internet in my host family’s house and so my blogging is far behind and If I try to write about each day extensively, now- I will burn out, so bare with me.

This was my first week at ESCAF, the private primary school where I am to complete my internship. On Monday I had another meeting with the headmaster and after explaining to him that I’m not a teacher nor am I a doctor (for some reason everyone here seems to think I’m one or the other) we decided what was best for me was to spend most of my time teaching in the top class of the nursery (Rwanda’s version of kindergarten/first grade) and working on developing the website. In addition I can sit in on each of the upper level classes to gain a better sense of awareness, but my main task here is to teach the young ones.

I couldn’t have asked for a better position at ESCAF, my class was so welcoming my first day and my fellow teachers, Mary and Monique, welcomed me with open arms and it felt as if we’d been teaching together for years. The first day I mainly sat and observed how things ran, after school was out Mary and Monique picked my brain- Mary speaks wonderful English but Monique speaks only French and Kinyarwanda, so I mainly talk with Mary- and she translates for Monique, or vice versa. They asked me how their class compares to America’s classes, they asked about my travels to Rwanda, I explained to them my experience last summer and it touching me so much I had to return. They asked about my future interests and I told them bout my love for the Gisimba Orphanage, Mary explained to me that I could start up and orphanage of my own, I just had to find orphans, sponsors for them and a roof to put over all of our heads and then present it to the ministry. Mary’s my angel, I feel so comfortable with her and for the first time when I’m with her I feel like I’m where I’m supposed to me. Mary told me after school that I’m the real deal, she told me that my spirit shines through and she can see my caring and helpful heart. She said people come to Rwanda all the time to “help” but they get so defeated with what they see that they leave having done nothing but fear Rwandans and our country. She made me cry, I think God gave me Mary and God gave me Mary’s kind words. Thank you for encouraging me today God, and thank you for bringing me Mary. The next day Monique was sick so it was just Mary and I. I quickly settled in as teacher and disciplined the kids as Mary taught and taught as Mary disciplined. The children are learning counting to 50, the alphabet, different objects, body parts as well as songs and rhymes. However, the children are learning both in English AND French! These little babies are wonderful. We do a lot of learning out loud, we do workbooks and we write letters on our wooden desks in Chalk. The school is very needy; don’t let the words PRIVATE primary school fool you. There isn’t much money in ESCAF, no electricity, no running water, two children to a desk, workbooks made of recycled paper and chalkboards that look as if they’re struggling to stay on the walls. But these children aren’t fazed, they’re eager to learn and ambitious to grow. I admire theses 5 and 6 year olds more than I admire most adults. They don’t allow themselves to feel defeated or weak because of their lack of resources. They all come in skipping with a smile on their face and plenty of hugs to dish out. Day three my class told me, “Mazungu, you can stay and be our teacher forever if you want!” I felt honored at their long-term offer after only three days of knowing me. I think I’ll miss these children when I’m gone. I’m learning names and faces slowly; it’s fun to try to learn everyone and their personalities. Isaac, Jeyeden, Rashid, Nova, Arno, Sharma, Chusey and Zaidu are the rebellious boys, Kevena is the rebellious girl. They’re the ones who get disciplined each day. (Rwanda has an old school style of teaching; they still smack children with sticks, pull their ears and make them stand with their nose touching the blackboard or their head between their legs) Back home in Iowa I was taught at school to use words, never punishment, that spanking was bad and that children aren’t to be touched. Well, this isn’t so much my belief in raising and teaching children. I don’t think that children need to be “beaten” the stick isn’t for viscous beatings of little ones, it’s to alert them, to provide a consequence to their negative pre-warned actions and to teach them right from wrong. I believe that children run the world in America and they don’t have any respect for elders, I got spanked (only a handful of times) when I was little and I’m not emotionally disturbed, I have a healthy sense of respect for my parents and their authority…I knew I couldn’t misbehave without consequence growing up and I think I’m better because of the respect I was taught growing up. However, anymore when I go into these classrooms for labs in America I see children with no respect, running around with heir heads cut off, ruling these classrooms and disturbing everyone- and as a teacher, there’s really not a thing you can do about it. So to be in a classroom in Rwanda, doing it the way I believe in, where the children respect the teacher- listen to authority and behave with manners- was refreshing. It was nice to see that children can still get spanked and be happy. These children don’t fear their teacher they still hug her every morning and every night, they still fight to stand next to her in line…She still allows them to be children. She’s realistic about her actions and doesn’t hit the little ones for giggling or talking out of turn. She lets them be children, but if they fight physically with one another or disrespect her multiple times or dishonor her wishes repeatedly- she provides a consequence. Regardless, I’m in agreement. Arriet, Joyezze, Nicole, Roxanne, Novally, Greta, Nice, Shaila, Kessy, Gady and Kahn are the sweet children. Kahn is Native American (the only non-African in the class) She is the sweetest little girl you will ever know and BEAUTIFUL, the children call us “alike” because to them, we are both mazungus. Kahn doesn’t talk much but she smiles a lot. Her parents live here for business; however, She’s lived here her entire life. Mary told me her own personally story after school today. We were talking about children, and I asked her if she had any. She told me she had a 10-year-old boy and how very hard it is for her to keep both of their heads above water. She told me that she was married once, but her husband joined the military and when they were sent to another country to fight he disappeared. She told me they sent her a letter their first week there and said that the second they touched ground, he was gone. Mary told me that with such confidence and zero weakness, I couldn’t even imagine how she must feel. That was years ago she said, and she’s been raising their son on her own ever since. She makes VERY little money at ESCAF and can hardly afford to raise her son. She lives in a hostel to cut down on housing costs and sends her son to boarding school to bundle in food and shelter for him. She talks about dreams of finding a sponsor, but she said most people want to sponsor orphans- they think if you have a parent or if you’re a parent with a job you’re without need, and she understands that way of thinking. She says most people are of greater need then her, it’s just hard…Well, I think God brought Mary into my life for a reason and I would LOVE to someday sponsor her. Mary is a teacher by day and student by night; she wants to get a better job at a bank or something to make more money. So each morning she goes to school by 7 a.m. and doesn’t get home until after her own classes are over around 11:30 P.M. She’s my hero.

This weekend I got very sick. I’ve been in bed most of the time and feeling very hot, achy, sore throat, cough and chills. My host parents feared for Malaria or African sleeping sickness so my host dad, Jotham, took me to the clinic on Monday. They drew blood and tested me, no malaria, Whew! I’m still sick but doing much better. They gave me cough syrup with codine and some other mystery pill. At the clinic the doctor asked for my nearest relative in Rwanda, my host dad chimed in, “Why that’d be me, I am her Rwandan father!” so he wrote down his own name. He’s a sweet man, with good intentions. I think sometimes the language barrier frustrates me with my host family- but I have to be patient. I ‘m no better for not knowing Kinyarwanda, so I can’t complain. Jotham likes to ask about my parents a lot; I think he fears he will let them down. My first night here he asked to see pictures of mom and dad. He says he dreams up what they look like and can tell from my dad’s emails that he’s not young but not too old. He says he has a way with his words and he can tell that I’m the last born by the way he cares. Jotham says he has a lot of respect for my family for letting me travel to Rwanda alone and he cannot wait to meet my mom. He talks about her arrival all the time, just when I thought I couldn’t appreciate my parents anymore…God found a way to remind me how wonderful you are Mom & Dad. I love you, and I cannot wait for you to join me in Rwanda, Mom, and to see you at the airport in Des Moines, Dad. J



My sick body is asking to go back to bed now. Thanks for reading and thanks for the patience!

First Day in Kigali

Friday, May 14, 2010

Today was my first day in Rwanda. For those of you who do not know I am staying with a host family here in Rwanda. Leah, my teacher from last years Rwanda Service Learning trip, helped place me with a family we had met last year and let me be the first to say- they are WONDERFUL. My new host parents picked me up last night from the airport, they even had a handmade sigh that read, “Elizabeth Dorr” as they waited anxiously in a crowd of what looked like half of the country of Rwanda behind a belt just outside of baggage claim. They were very welcoming and happy I was finally here. As we drove home the three of us talked, my host mother doesn’t speak much English so she made that clear in the car, she said she was anxious to learn from me and would be a whiz in two months. As we arrived at the house, I realized how close I would be living to the hotel we stayed at last summer, literally, right across the street. I found great comfort in knowing that I was back in the same neighborhood I had spent my time in last summer. Their house is gated (as are all the others along the block) so when we pulled up Jotham, my host dad, honked his horn until one of their two house keepers came to open the gate.

[I am typing this early Saturday morning, I haven’t been able to sleep very well so I decided to write for my blog, anyway…my “mom” just woke up and she and one of the house keepers are talking outside my window in Kinyarwanda…She’s probably requesting her bath water or asking him to prepare breakfast…it’s always a game for me to guess these kinds of things]

Anyway- after we arrived last night I came into the house (it was around 8 PM once we finally arrived home) they brought me to my room and I set my stuff down. Then I saw their two daughters peeking through the hall, when I walked out of my room they both jumped back in hiding as if they were nervous or scared of me. My host parents called them out and they introduced them to me. The older daughter, Paulaa (which sounds like "Porra" with their thick Rwandan accents), is seventeen and the younger daughter, Siserra, is ten. They’re both shy, sweet girls. Paula then gave me the grand tour of the house. They have four bedrooms, I am using Paula’s so her and her sister are sharing one for the time I’m here. Then mom and dad’s room, and my host brother, Bruce, has his own room too. They have one other son, but he is away in the dormitories. They have three bathrooms, a family room/sitting area with the TV connected to the dining room, and then a kitchen. Then they have their back yard, and then beyond that is another kitchen type area- this is where they prepare the food. Outside was Bruce, so we met then and introduced ourselves (Bruce is 20) Afterwards I sat down with Jotham in the family room for a bit, we watched TV, it was news coverage on the presidential elections that are to take place in Rwanda soon. The show was in Kinyarwanda but Jotham translated much of it for me in little stories. Then, about twenty minutes later, dinner was served. We had pumpkin (a first for me, MUCH like squash- which mom and dad, I actually enjoyed!) we also had french fries, rice, beans and fish. It was a huge dinner and then afterwards they brought out fruit for us to enjoy. I drank hot milk with my meal, another first. After dinner was finished It was around 9:30-10 PM so I went to my room, unpacked my things, and laid in bed.

Last night as I lay in bed, tired from jet lag and exhausted beyond belief I tossed and turned and wondered to myself, what have I done? I had a hard time coming to terms with being away from my mom and dad for seven (mom)/ eight (dad) weeks. As I lie there I told myself, you’re away from them all the time, you live 30 miles away from home, this will be easy. However, there is something to be said for being in foreign country…all alone. Last year’s trip we were two trucks full of mazungu (white person in the local language here, Kinyarwanda) celebrities, but this year, I’m just a target. I calmed my nerves by texting mom and dad…it’s so nice to know they’re just a phone call away. (still halfway across the world, but a phone call away) They were both extremely comforting, and in that moment- lying in my bed finding comfort in mom and dad…I remembered why I’m here. I’m here to love people the way my parents have raised me to…I looked at how much love, support, encouragement and comfort I find in my parents and I quickly remembered I came here to show that same love, support, encouragement and comfort to others. Needless to say, a few tears shed, but I made it through the night. I woke up this morning, or sat up in bed to my alarm, as I did not fall asleep the entire night, the sun was up and it was shining into my bedroom. I told myself I could not drag my insecurities about my journey out of bed with me and that I was going to start the day off with a new attitude. I opened my door and my host mom was near, she went to get my bath water from the housekeepers and Into the bathroom I went. There is a lack of running water here so we put a large bowl of hot water in the bath rub with us and use it to clean, another first for me. After I washed up we all met in the kitchen. Jotham and I were the first to sit down for breakfast. Then slowly Siserra came, and mom came out too but ate in a hurry standing up. We had, I’m not exactly sure what we had but this was my guess, hot milk with flour and sugar? It was a thick milky sweet substance and very tasty. We also had rolls with our breakfast. Oh! And some fruit that I tried for the first time and had to fight down and hide my gagging. I’m not sure what it was, but the texture and the taste were just not for me!

After breakfast we all ran to brush our teeth and packed in the car. Bruce did his own thing, I think he walks to school or rides with friends, so It was just me, the girls and mom and dad. As we pulled out of the gate I was GLEAMING! Here it was, FINALLY, in the daylight. RWANDA! When I got in last night it was pitch black so all I could see were the stars and the many lights up on the hills. But here it was, staring me in the fact this morning, RWANDA! Oh, this country, I could go on and on and on about it’s beauty but you don’t have the time for that and I’d never be able to stop. It’s safe to say that pictures don’t even do this country justice. It’s just BREATH TAKING! As we drove down the roads I quickly remembered how much I take paved roads for granted. We bumped and jolted thee entire way to school. Driving by Chez Lando, the hotel we stayed at last year, and GISIMBA (the orphanage we volunteered at last year) along the way. I saw one of my babies getting on the back of a motor taxi to go to school and I couldn’t help but smile.

School is about a 15-20 minute car ride from home. We drove along and I couldn’t take my eyes off of the window.

We arrived at ESCAF, where my dad and mom work and where Siserra goes to school, Mom and Siserra got out and Jotham and I left to take Paula to school. I tried to get a quick glimpse of the children standing outside to see if I could see Deborah anywhere, no such luck.

We dropped Paula off at school and also picked up and dropped off some man that Jotham knew along the way. Then we headed back to ESCAF, the school where I will be completing my internship. Once we arrived the children were just walking to class, so Jotham gave me a quick tour of the grounds. He showed me the classrooms, (the school is an elementary school as we call it, a primary school as they call it, hosting grades P1-P6, the P stands for Primary) then he showed me the offices (where I met the secretaries, and the accountant! However, I already knew the accountant, she is my host mom!) And the restrooms. ESCAF is a Private primary school so the parents pay for everything; nothing is paid for by the government. Along those same lines, however, you must also know that to go to this PRIVATE primary school it is only (and I say only as a very, very fortunate- take things for granted, American) $60 to send a child to ESCAF for a semester, with an additional cost for new students - $10 for registration fees, $10 for uniform and $5 for Insurance (whatever that all entails, I’m not sure) Needless to say, If I limited eating out and getting coffee and unnecessary items, I could EASILY sponsor a child to attend ESCAF. Wow, I don’t even think a WEEK of DAYCARE in America costs $60. After the tour Jotham and I sat in the headmasters office and waited for him to arrive. I got to mess around on the computer for a bit while we waited and sent my parents a quick e-mail and by then the headmaster had finally arrived. Jotham introduced us and then he headed off to his office. The headmaster and I discussed my internship schedule and plans and discussed activities for my seven weeks at ESCAF. Then we went outside because we heard lots of children’s voices, It was RECESS! I used this time to my advantage looking around desperately for Deborah, I could not find her anywhere. I met two of the teachers and they were both VERY nice and friendly. One looked exactly like an African version of a friend back home! He was interested to know what I thought about Rwanda, the weather and the school. We talked briefly and then recess was over, he told me to wait and that he wanted to bring his class out to meet me. So I waited at the top of the hill with the head master and soon the whole school was running towards me. Every class came out to greet me, it was wonderful. The children laughed, smiled and waved while they hid behind their friends. I heard lots of screams of a MAZUNGU and yet I was still on the search for Deborah and then…AhA! I found Deborah’s older sister, Paskeline, when we made eye contact she looked as if she had seen a ghost. I could hear her gasp from about 20 feet away and she smiled and I gave her a big smile and wave, she looked around then and appeared frozen like she didn’t even know what to! It was neat to see a familiar face! I wanted to go run and hug her but the head master was trying to quit the group down. He made them line up and then the head master introduced me to the students and then they sang me greeting songs, traditional Rwandans songs (in Kinyarwanda) with traditional Rwandan dances. It was AMAZING. As I was scanning the group I saw my sister, Siserra, who I waved and smiled at and she did the same, she is such a sweetheart. After the songs I wanted to go to Paskeline, but again, the headmaster gave specific orders to go straight to class and we would meet me again Monday morning, he pulled me away and I knew I’d have to find Paskeline later to give her my hug. The headmaster and I met again in his office and planned more for my internship, and then I went into some of the classrooms to see their OLAC program. OLAC stands for One Laptop a Child, it’s a program they’ve just started in ESCAF implemented by a group of Americans. The Americans were still there helping the students learn the computers and today the students were giving presentations on their laptops. I got to go in and watch the presentations. It was wonderful to see these little children utilizing technology, and so well. What I REALLY want to talk about though, is what kinds of presentations I saw. I saw seven and eight year olds presenting about the importance of the environment and natural resources, I saw children presenting issues about the back effects of smoking, and most importantly, I saw LITTLE children presenting issues of HIV and AIDS. One little girl from P3- third grade, presented a story she illustrated on her laptop, it was about a boy and a girl. The boy was infected with AIDS but did not want to tell the girl because he wanted her to do bad things with him. He told her to come over one night and so she did, his parents were not home and he was trying to get her to do bad things with him. She did not want to do these bad things and had also remembered everything her parents had taught her about AIDS and HIV so she said, “NO!” (she shouted) and the girl went home and stayed alive. (gave me the chills when she said the finishing sentence, so simple, like she just went home and stayed alive...wow) The way she presented this story with such innocence made my eyes tear up in class. I felt sad that she even knew about boys and girls doing “bad things” I felt sad that she knew about HIV/AIDS so young and I felt sad that all of her peers were laughing at her story. But my feelings of sadness only lasted until I realized this was Africa, their biggest problem in regards to AIDS awareness and prevention is education!! And here is a little third grader who is already beyond educated about the issue, for her age, and is educating her peers, who knows how many lives she might save just by this third grade presentation on her donated lap top…but I do know she’s forever effected mine. After her presentation her teacher gave her huge praise, he praised her topic, praised her presentation and she was beyond impressed with herself. What an angel!

It’s eye opening how much your surroundings impact your growth. I didn’t know of HIV/AIDS until I was well into Junior High… but then again, I didn’t HAVE to know about it in order to survive. The only difference between me and that little third grade girl, I’m from America, this little girl... she is from Africa.

Live from Europe

As your temporary European Representative, please direct all questions in regards to the new Prime Minister, David Cameron, and his controversial relationship with Nick Clegg this-a-way! As I've been locked up in my hotel room with three t.v. channels, all reporting live from 10 Downing Street. 


What? Just because I'm traveling to Rwanda, Africa you guys think I lost my sense of humor? Never!

Pit Stop in Brussels

I’ve landed! …In Brussels, Belgium… ha, my luck with travel is continually bad and I will be temporarily posted up here now for a few days. I can’t complain, however, about arriving here safely... That I am thankful for.

My initial travel plans for Rwanda were to fly out from Des Moines around 2 p.m. Friday, May 7th, and arrive in Chicago shortly after. Fly out of Chicago to Brussels that same night at 6:00 p.m. on an overnight flight, and arrive in Brussels around 9ish the next morning and then fly from Brussels to Rwanda at 10:40 A.M. Friday morning, putting me in Rwanda around 6 p.m. Well that was all sounding perfect until we arrived at the Des Moines Airport to find out my flight had been delayed until 4:11 making it very close for me to make my connecting flight. So I left the gate and went back down to sit with my parents for another two hours, went back up- through security and back to my gate around 4…Then, as my parents communicated with the front desk and continually checked the monitors, we found out it was now departing around 4:45, thus making it nearly impossible for me to make my 6:00 connecting flight out to Brussels. So they told me to come down from the gate and we’d re book this whole thing. Well, I was almost relieved at the time…I was tired, sick with a sore throat and headache and achy beyond belief. An extra two days to sleep was sounding more than all right to me at that point. So I came back down from my gate another time and we rebooked my flight. Now I was set to leave out Monday Morning (the problem with scheduling this trip is that flights only leave Brussels to Kigali on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.) So now we were stuck, trying to reschedule another trip out to Rwanda accordingly. So leave Monday (this time around 10:45 A.M.) giving me a much longer time in Chicago because all the later flights were booked. Then flying out of Chicago, again around 6 p.m. on an overnight flight to Brussels and then flying out Tuesday morning to Rwanda putting me there around 6 p.m. Well, I made it as far as Chicago without trouble (as you know, or will know from Monday’s blog post) After a few hours in Chicago my flight was showing a delay of 2 hours and 15 minutes. Therefore, screwing up the time I’d have to make my connecting flight from Brussels to Rwanda. My parents talked all my options out with me, communicated with the travel agent and we decided my best bet was to get as far as I could now. So I took the flight out of Chicago Monday night at around 8:30 p.m. and arrive in Brussels this morning around 12:30/1 p.m. (well missing my connection to Kigali, Rwanda) So my amazingly helpful parents booked me a reservation at a hotel 1 mile from the airport, the Crowne Plaza. However, there was still a mess to be faced at the airport before I could enjoy the comforts of a hotel bed, shower or change of clothes. Our travel agent booked me on the next flight out to Kigali (not until Thursday morning) and so I would need to reclaim my checked bags due to my two-night stay here. That was easier said than done. I was sent from the United Baggage Service desk, to the Brussels Air Service Desk and then to the two other desks. Finally, at the last desk, I laid it out to the man. I was tired, sick and crabby. I told him, I have been sent now to every desk on this floor- someone needs to scan my baggage tag and locate my bags instead of sending me around to the next person, I’ve been to every desk now so someone HAS to find my bags. I have two bags; they’re here in this airport, now it is your job to find them! I don’t know if I’m scary when I’m that crabby or if the poor man just felt bad for me but immediately he was on it. He had me re-check every luggage belt (which I had already done a thousand times) and then he took me to all the back “employee entrance only” rooms to personally look for my bags. Finally, in the third room in the back corner of the basement, I found them! Oh happy day! He split the second I found them and so I had to maneuver two large bags on wheels up to the second floor of the airport on the escalators (that was an adventure itself) and then come to find out I needed to be on the third floor. So I left the airport, flagged down a taxi, and delivered myself to the hotel to shower and crash. Not until I arrived into my room did it register that here I am, in a foreign country I had no intention of being in, for two nights. Kind of a cool accident once you get a shower and catch up on some sleep. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll have a chance to explore this accident of an opportunity and see some sights in Belgium. It’s 3:04 A.M. here now, I’ve been here since 2:30 P.M. and as I said, showered and slept as soon as I arrived to my room so now my sleep schedule is all a skew. Oh well, I have 8 weeks to get that figured out. Not all my luck has been bad thus far, however, I did have the pleasure of meeting some very interested people at the Chicago airport and on my flight here to Brussels. While waiting for what turned out to be my 8-9 hour layover in Chicago I was waiting in a gate nearby my own, seeing as being in my gate was just stressing me out more and more. An older man approached me with a very thick accent. He asked if this was the gate to Frankfort, Germany and I told him my situation, that I wasn’t sure what gate I was in, I was just avoiding my own, and that I was sorry I couldn’t be of help. As I watched him ask around to others who would only blow him off I approached him and told him to sit tight and I would go check the screen for him to check what gate this was. He sat down next to me in the chairs and I got up to check the screen. “Yep!” I Said, “you’re in the right place, this is the gate for Frankfort, Germany” He thanked me and we sat in silence next to each other. Only then his daughter, probably in her early thirties, came running into the gate panting, he put his arms in the air and shouted her name, “Why are you here?” He said, lighting up with excitement to see her. She explained that his inhaler must of fallen out in the car and that she explained to security my dad has a very bad heart and hard time breathing…and that he NEEDED his inhaler so they let her go through with a security pass. She left after some small talk with her dad and then came back again to offer to get him a sandwich or something to eat. “No thank you,” he said “Plus, I have her (pointing to me) to help me out if I need anything!” I smiled at her and she smiled back. They said their goodbyes again and she was off. He then started up conversation with me, he asked me where I was traveling to if it wasn’t Frankfurt and I explained everything to him, I explained I was going to Africa, Rwanda to be exact, to go back to a country that I fell in love with a year ago and teach at a primary school for eight weeks. He gave me a huge smile and said, “I like you, BIG HEART and courageous to go alone!” I thanked him for his kind words and he continued to be encouraging about my trip and my upcoming experience. I then asked him his travel plans. He told me he was from Greece, his daughter lived in Chicago and he spends half of the year with her and the summer out in Greece. With his thick accent I knew he was from somewhere other than the US. I told him he was courageous tor travel alone too, and we laughed together. Then came along a woman as the gate was filling up, she was born in Korea she later explain but had immigrated to San Francisco and then married a man from Utah (where she now lives) She asked where I was traveling to and I told her my story, yet again, leaving out specifics (as I learned from my Iowa State Study abroad orientation, never tell strangers where you’ll be staying, or working etc…) She looked at me like I was crazy, alerted me that she used to work in a mental institute and that people were crazy! She said, “Trust no one, you meet someone one second and five seconds later they do you wrong!” Then chimed in my New Greek friend, “Do you know how old I am?” He said to her. “72, I’ve seen more things than you and I’ve lived on this Earth for far longer, you MUST trust people,” he told her. “When you treat others as if they can’t be trusted they begin to feel that way, and begin to then think the same about others, we MUST trust people to create a unity, so we can all get along and live as one. Trust someone until they give you reason not to.” He sat back with confidence in his argument, and then leaned forward once more, “And quite freaking the girl out, we need more people like her and you’re ruining those chances for us with your talk.” She fell silent and I smiled huge. I know God sent him…either that or it was Jesus sitting next to me. He was special himself and I regret not thanking him or letting him know his encouragement was comforting and I was happy to know people like him are rooting for me. I stayed with him until I had to leave for my gate, he sent me off with some wise words and I walked away almost feeling sad to leave the man. As I boarded my plan I was seated next to a man, similar to my age I’d guess, from Rome. He was asking me about Chicago and I told him the wonderful things it had, we talked about his experience in the US and he said he’d only ever been to Texas, but wanted to travel to NYC and Louisiana. He went on about Texas food, Tex mex, etc. We talked for a large portion of the trip, probably the only two who didn’t sleep much of the night. He was in awe of my traveling to Rwanda, he asked me if it was safe there and if I felt scared there. Questions like those always frustrate me, but I have to understand the common misconception of Africa and Rwanda and understand that it is my job and others who have traveled to places with misconceptions to correct those ideas. I comforted him in stories and accounts from last years trip and finally he was ok with me going there. It’s always nice to feel as if I’ve at least caused someone to re-think their views on the country I love so much. He was Italian, so of course I brought up soccer and the world cup in South Africa this summer. At the end of the flight he shook my hand and said best of luck with your travels and your work. It’s neat the people you meet when you take the chance. God left me challenged and satisfied today. I know he is with me, of course he is, without him this would be impossible.

Monday, May 10, 2010 

Presently I am sitting at the airport in Chicago in route to Rwanda; I have a six-hour layover and no Internet connection so I’m “blogging” on a word document and will post it at my earliest connection to the Internet.

I’ve officially finished my last semester at Iowa State University, it’s a bittersweet feeling and for something that I’ve been working towards for the past 17 years- it’s unlikely kind of sad to be done. Much of my last few weeks at school have been filled with mass mayhem, finishing up travel plans, organizing the last bit of my internship, speaking to classes about my experiences abroad, oh, and finding some time late at night and in the wee hours of the morning to study for finals. This left me little to no time to appreciate my fours years at Iowa State University coming to an end, but it all caught up with me as I became a tearful mess on my way to my last final. It was Thursday of last week around 9:50 A.M, I was heading to LeBaron to meet with my class one last time and as I passed by everything on campus for the last time, it hit me. I began to tear up as I walked past the campanile, the Memorial Union and even the Library (I don’t know if it was the lack of sleep I’d been getting or my four years coming to an end, but everything was making me emotional). Nothing, however, hit me harder than my walk past MacKay Hall. I didn’t have very many classes in MacKay, maybe one or two all four years I’d been at ISU. I walked by it almost everyday and occasionally I’d use it as a short cut to get from Palmer Hall to LeBaron Hall, but there was no great class I had there, instead it was so much more. Mackay was where we met every Wednesday the spring semester before our Rwanda Service Learning Group Trip last May. Mackay was my earliest memory of the start of my LOVE for Rwanda, MacKay was also the building in which Leah Keino, the teacher in charge of our Rwanda trip last summer, had her office. MacKay was where I met with her upon arriving home from Rwanda and starting up another school year to discuss plans to return, MacKay was where we met almost twice a month to make plans or discuss options to get back, MacKay was what symbolized Rwanda for me, at ISU. When I thought back to MacKay and all the memories that were there I immediately thought about all the days I would walk out with my head hung low thinking nobody wanted me to return back, nobody seemed to believe in the idea other than my parents and Leah, every time I felt I was getting somewhere, 500 more things needed to be done, another person needed to approve it and something else was required of me. I had to plan my entire Internship, I had to write proposals to people I’d never met, I had to fight for this opportunity harder than anything I’ve ever fought for, and look where it got me. Hard work really pays off. So after I finished up my last final in Lebaron Hall, I walked through Lebaron and into MacKay, my last memory of Iowa State will now be MacKay, walking out that door and down those stairs knowing my next move in my life after ISU was Rwanda. I’d finally did it, I graduated from college AND after all the doubt, disappointment and disbelief I’d finally found a way to get back to Rwanda… What could be better?

Relocating...

As some of you already know.. and others of you that don't, I created a blog of my own about five months ago. I needed a place to write everything down- talking on and on about my developed love for the country of Rwanda as I traveled abroad to Kigali this past Summer, 2009, with a group of 14 students from my University. I wanted a common place, one that I could share with everyone, to write about memories, thoughts, frustrations and my drive to return. Ever since I landed back in the United States I've been working hard (so VERY hard) to get back to Rwanda. To say the least, hard work really pays off, in two short days my dream comes true. I fly out on Friday, May 7th at 2:00 in the afternoon back to country that so heavily captivated me 12 months go.


So What's with this blog, you might be wondering?


A few weeks ago I was forced to delete my previous gmail account (before I could think straight or salvage much of anything). Unfortunately, said gmail account was the one synced to my blog. It wasn't until after the account was deleted that I realized my previous blog was now gone too. I can no longer sign in or edit it in anyway. So I will bring the old blog here, and start fresh with my stories and updates. Below you will find all of my past postings on my old blog (dated when they were originally written) and from here on out this is where you can find me!

Here goes nothing...

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

God Rewards Faithfulness

Some may call me crazy, but I call me Christian. My Christian heart is calling on you, I am callingout for a favor... one of GREAT need and abundant rewards.

Rwanda, I am coming. I am coming because I am called and because I am in love. I am heading back to the country where I left my heart last May in a few short months and I need you all more than ever. Last summer we partnered with an Orphanage, Gisimba Memorial Centre, where we donated 200 bags for the children filled with donations and toys. If you know me, you know that I also left my heart there...with Deborah.

My precious little Deborah with the bags we made and filled with donations.

the little girl that stole my heart and captivated me. She is wonderful, to say the least, and not a day goes by that my heart doesn't ache to spend time with her again. All of my Rwandan family at Gisimba is always with me wherever I go in life. They taught me to love hard without hesitation, to live life with compassion and drive and to take NOTHING for granted. For you are always the lucky one to someone else. I promised them I'd be back, but what they don't know is unlike the others who've made them empty promises and left them with false hope- I am coming. Few know this, because I am in communication with the wonderful and hard working director, Ildephonse, as well as a few of the older boys who I made life long friends in. But I want to do more than show up, I'd be selfish to think I can go over and make life better for all of them with a smile on my face, arms wide open and love for each and every one of them. There is a need in Rwanda, there is an even greater need at Gisimba. I want to help- I want to help for Ildephonse who works full time raising these children at the orphanage (as they all call him "Papa") finding money in any amount that can help to put clothes on their back or food in their bowls as well as attending school in his "free time" to get his degree, I often wonder if he ever sleeps. Not to mention he has fallen very ill, my heart cries out to even think of the idea of those children losing Ildo, but I have something deep within me, I have faith. I want to help for Damas who runs the Orphange. His grandfather started it 1970 and then passed it on to his son (Damas' father) who then passed it on to him. Damas is one of the seven heros of the genocide for his acts of faith and protection of the children during the war. Damas managed to hide 325 children and 75 parents; luckily he had a stock full of food. When the genocidaires came, he paid them off with money and then food to save the lives of those he was hiding.He was obligated to do this, because if he didn't act- they would have been killed. Damas also helps seek funding for the orphanage, and serves as the center's Rwandan government representative. I want to help for the house moms who have their own children to raise, yet spend their days at the orphanage to ensure that the children have caring adults around them to protect and love them. The reasons I have are never ending, and there are a million things I wish to do for them upon my return back. This is why I need you, I need help! I need donations!

I am raising money to get my children at Gisimba proper bedding and bug nets. (In Africa, Malaria is a very scary and deadly disease transmitted through mosquito bites, so it is VERY important to sleep at night in bug nets- well, less than half of my babies at Gisimba have bug nets...and those that do are lucky if there are holes few and far between) There are around 200 children at Gisimba and I want to get them all new sheets, pillows and bug nets. "God rewards faithfulness. Those who bear no fruit for God's kingdom cannot expect to be treated the same as those who are faithful." Please have faith in me as I have faith in God and his plans for me. I am coming, I am coming back to the children who I fell in love with and I will help, as I am called to do so. I greatly appreciate ANY donations and want to do so much for the orphanage, If I have the money I'd also like to help clean up the grounds, get them new windows where the old ones are busted out and maybe even help Ildo with his own personal struggles. I know that he's putting everything he has into these children and the orphanage, what a blessing it would be to give him something to help out his own struggles. Medical care is by no means cheap for anyone, let alone a man who is single handily raising 200 children.

I will set up information to donate through pay pal or an address where checks can be sent to. For those who know me know that Rwanda has become my life, I hope this can show you how it too can become a part of yours! I also ask that you continue to follow my blog- as I am abroad this will be the easiest way to receive updates and information on my personal project!

"In everything I did, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: 'It is more blessed to give than to receive." Acts 20:35

Here are a few pictures from our bag donation project last summer at Gisimba... I can only have faith for wonderful success in this years project!

Donated School Supplies

Donated Bags, Ildo to my right!

Ishimwe, the sweetest deaf little boy- discovering race cars

Nail Polish! A girls DREAM!

Notebooks and School Supplies

and...Beanie Babies :)

"One ordinary person, with the right combination of character and determination, really can change the world" -Tom Brokaw

My Character is compassion and my determination, well that's Rwanda.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Frustration

Frustrated.

Why can't I always be where I want to be exactly when I want to be?

God has a plan. God has a plan. God has a plan.

Rwanda, you are on my mind.

When are you not?

I can not wait.

Better.

:)

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Movies & Memories

It's Sunday night- I have homework I need to do, a test I need to study for and a bedroom that could use a SERIOUS cleaning. However, all that can wait. I have to blog.

This weekend I went to see the movie Valentines Day. It was a long (but wonderful) movie. Maybe it was because It was late and I was tired...or maybe it's just because my heart is still in Rwanda- but everything about the movie reminded me of the life I have waiting for me overseas and the people I love a thousand miles away. As I listened to lines about miracles, fate, happiness and above all else, Love, my heart couldn't help but get excited to go back. There has never been anything I have been more sure of then the fact that I belong back in Rwanda... I've never been so consumed and infatuated. I've never felt so called in my entire life. This has been the most amazing faith journey and my relationship with God blossoms more and more everyday. Some days I want to open my door, step outside and scream about gods love for me and my excitement to learn the things he has planned for me. Some days I worry, get nervous, try to develop plans and then backup plans for those plans. Some days I think I have too much on my plate, andsome days I wonder if EVERYBODY but my parents is trying to prevent me from going back. And it's on those days, more than any other, that god reminds me how forgetful I am. He reminds me that I'm not in charge, he reminds me that my life is all planed out...things will happen regardless of my plans, not even my backup plans can prevent some of the things that God has in store for me. I wouldn't have it any other way.

As I sat in that theatre, and watched the sad little boy who had been missing his mom for months be awaken by her after just having arrived home from leave in the military I couldn't hold the tears back. It was an emotional reunion to watch the two of them hug and the love in the little boys eyes to have his mother back. But my heart went from happy to broken in seconds. What about my children at the orphanage who's moms will never come home? What about my babies who have no family at all? What about my sweet little Deborah who knows know evil and sees everyday as a gift and even though she's been dealt a TERRIBLE card in life, she has nothing but faith in her soul and love in her heart. What about her? Who comes home to her at night? who picks her up and protects her when her friends at the orphanage get rough and hit her too hard with one of their wooden crutches? Who wipes her tears when she's scared? Who teaches her about being a girl? Who lets her sleep in bed with them at night when she's awaken from a terrible dream? Who bakes her a birthday cake when she turns another year older? It's not fair! It's NOT fair! My human heart can't help but wonder why god takes parents away from children...but my christian heart finds comfort in KNOWING God is in charge- and even though we don't get it and even though it makes NO sense to us...it's never going to nor is it supposed to. Someday we may understand- or think we understand- why somethings happen. But until that day please, PLEASE, don't develop hate in your heart or give up hope. God holds our fate, and God knows his plans

God comes to Deborah every day, God wraps his arms around her and protects her when her friends at the orphanage get rough and hit her too hard with one of their wooden crutches, God wipes her tears when she's scared and eases her fearful heart, God teaches her about being a girl, God eases her mind when she's awaken from a terrible dream, and God reminds her every year that it is another year she had been blessed with- and to celebrate and rejoice in that. God watches over, and that- I can wrap my human and my Christian head around.

"It is not by strength that one prevails; those who oppose the Lord will be shattered." 1 Samuel 2:10

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Good To Great

Happy Valentines Day!

It's been a while since I wrote last, a lot has happened and I can't wait to write it all down. Unfortunately, getting back into the daily routine and requirements of school leaves not a lot of time for blogging- but don't give up on me just yet, I'm still here!

As I lay here on my bed cuddled up with my two little guys (My Cats; Oliver & Kohlson) I can't help but think this is a pretty good Valentine's day. To love and be loved so much by them and just to have them in my life is such a blessing. I'd be lost with out my dudes!

On the AFRICA front... changes are happening and steps- No, leaps and bounds, are being taken in more than the right direction. As of today it looks like things are really going to happen and I'll be headed back to the country that I love so much in three short months, WOW! A lot of awesome things have taken place to get to this point. I have made lots of new relationships and My teacher, Leah Keino, has truly been an angel to me during this process. She has helped me line up so many things and helped me to develop an internship idea to present to the college to be approved, and it WAS! Now we just have to wait for the Dean to Okay the trip. The service learning trip, however, that Leah and I were working so hard to develop again this year is not going through. It's truly sad- but I know that God has a plan for me and if it was meant to happen it would have. I trust in his work and I know that this is for the better. It just saddens me that 14 more students eyes won't be opened up to the AMAZING and life changing country of Rwanda. So many students lives are changed each year through the opportunities that the service learning trips provide that it's sad to think that we won't be continuing the legacy this go round. Each year Rwanda gains new ambassadors to come back to America and tell their stories, stories of encouragement and light to others in America to learn and understand the strides they are making over there, sadly and truly without much help from us! God has bigger plans for me though- I am to go back, this could not be more clear, but this time by myself. He who knows me best, and created me, knows that I seek too much comfort in other people and groups that I'm familiar with- but what only Himself and I know, is that my best work...my BEST work is done when I am at my utmost discomfort. He wants me in situations unbeknownst to me, situations where I can't rely on others to do the work for me, situations where I know no one and have to make new friends and confidants, situations where I am vulnerable and alone so that I rely solely on him, my lord. He will guide me and show me what to do, I just have to listen. That is how I got this far, I learned to close my mouth and open my ears. I learned that I'm not behind the wheel in this life- I am merely just along for the ride.

I learned of a book at a lunch that my dad had set up for me to meet with a friend of his, Mr. Ron Langston, who is familiar with Africa and different projects that I could link up with while abroad. He suggested that I read a book called, "Good to Great". Ron mentioned the bus scenario it describes in one of the chapters. He told me that you have to be aware of who's on your bus, and what seats you put them in, in order to truly succeed. Also, you have to know when to kick people off your bus, he told me, to continue and maintain your success. While I waslistening I couldn't help but think what bus I was on and where I was headed- and only a short second later, God told me. I am riding on God's bus- I am sitting with all of the others that live out his work and he will never kick me off or abandon me. God doesn't drive us in directions where he plans to drop us off or leave us stranded. God drives us to places where he sees success and flourishment, God drives us to situations where we can TRULY live out the life that he has planned for us, but God will NEVER kick us off the bus. Some days we just forget to get on.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Thankful & Willing

I've been spending most of my free time this week catching up on Invisible Children DVD's and developing an increasingly vegan diet. I find myself spending a lot of time in my room crying as I watch the videos, your heart can not help but ache for the people of Africa. As I watch the documentaries and learn about Sunday- the war displaced child or Emmy- The AIDS Orphan, I sit and feel helpless. Guilt creeps all around me as I watch these videos in my safe apartment with a roof over my head, heat coming through the vents, a full stomach and a soft comfortable bed to relax in. Why is it that I have it SO good, and they have it SO bad? How did I draw the lucky straw? God gives us the lives we get, and it's up to us what we do with them. With that I think the roof over my head, the heat in my house, the food in my stomach and the bed I sleep in at night are all a part of God's greater plan for me- he needed to show me the imbalance of my culture and others in the world for me to most appreciate what I can do for others. We never know what it is that God has planned for us, nor are we supposed to figure it out. God wants us to stop every once in a while, pray to him and listen, he will tell us where to go and what to do to be existing in every way he has planned for us. God has called on me to take my blessings in life, and use it. I am appreciative of all that I have been blessed with in my life, In which I owe all to my AMAZING parents- the ones who made it all possible for me to go to Africa in the first place to start the fire that lives inside of me. I could not have asked for a better and more supportive father and mother and I hope and I pray that they know that, every single day. God giveth and God taketh away...ALWAYS count your blessings, what we have today we may not have tomorrow...and for that, one day, we could be the ones in need of some assistance.

But for me, I need to go assist.

You know when you get that one song stuck in your head, it plays on repeat over and over and over in your head and at the end of the day you're all songed out. This was mine today... :) and I have to say, I wasn't one bit annoyed.

"Liz has a Police Chase

Liz has a Police Chase

Liz has a Police Chase

Turn around and point to ONE!

She has a Wiggie Wogga Wiggie Wogga on her shoe

Wiggie Wogga Wiggie Wogga on her shoe

Wiggie Wogga Wiggie Wogga on her shoe

Open the door and point to ONE!"

This was my favorite Rwandan Nursery Rhyme,

there is a very cute game that goes along with it much like "Duck Duck Goose"

Sunday, January 24, 2010
Laundry Day and The Pink Hoodie
I stayed in Friday and Saturday night this weekend. Friday night I cleaned my room- read my book, "28 Stories of AIDS in Africa" and got to bed at a good time. Saturday night a couple of my friends came over and we put in a movie and enjoyed each others company. Then after I took them home I sat in my room and watched a million Invisible Children documentaries (If you guys don't know what that is you should DEFINITELY check it out, it's an amazing organization helping rescue child soldiers in northern Uganda, End the war, Give those in Uganda opportunities to go to school, make money in their communities through job opportunities and better their lives) As I was siting watching all those videos I was thinking to myself- doing what I love on my own time on the weekend is much more rewarding than going out to the bars- drinking alcohol and slamming back shots with hundreds of people I've never met. God wrapped my his arms around me again this weekend, and I'm trying to better myself daily for him. I've written off the bar scene and opted to stop drinking ...by no means was I ever out every Friday and Saturday night, but this weekend God showed me that doing what I love i.e. sitting in my room in my apartment, educating myself on organizations helping to better Africa and that give me hope for the future- even if it's by myself- is what it's all about. THAT is fun to me, it's relaxing, it's what I care about, and it's fulfilling. I'm not saying it's wrong to go out on the weekends, who am I to judge how you enjoy spending your time? Only God can judge. My closest friends all go out still and I'm sure have no intentions of putting that on halt anytime soon. I'm just saying I feel like time spent out at a bar right now, for ME, is time wasted. It's an empty night that I'd lose for instant satisfaction of enjoying time with friends and becoming less and less of my true self with each drink. It almost seems sinful anymore to me. I want to spend these days- these years bettering myself and working on my future and my life.
Along with spending the weekend in, came laundry... I dedicated this free time to getting all my laundry cleaned, dried and put away. As I was switching my brights from the washer to the dryer I noticed my pink valour Victoria Secret zip up hoodie, it was a little tainted from the other colors in the load and had a bit of a bluish tint to it. I will not pretend that my selfish human heart didn't for one second feel upset about this...It did. However, I immediately got a million questions from God.

"What about the children who don't even have clothes?"

"What about the children who wouldn't even second guess a color leak on their other clothes in the laundry load?"

"What about the girls who've never gotten to wear the color pink, EVER, because that just wasn't available for them?"

So I stood there, motionless, with my pink hoodie in hand midway from the washer to the dryer thinking...My sweet little children at theGisimba Memorial Center ... they all share the same clothes- they're communal. No child there has their own, individual wardrobe. There's nothing extremely girly for the girls nor boyish for the boys. It's all fairly neutral. Being in a major at Iowa State University where I solely learn about children, their development and their growth (emotionally and cognitively) I really understand the importance of letting little girls be girls and little boys be boys. It's important for girls to wear pink, play with hair and dress up dolls. It's Important for little boys to race toy cars, play sports and exchange action heros, but, It's also VERY important to not have unattainable expectations. I AM happy that those children have a roof over their head, clothes on their body and food in their belly's. God has blessed the family at the Gisimba Memorial Orphanage, but somedays I can't help but wish I could give them more... I want them to know in their own way and through God that I learned this weekend and understand how selfish we think and act at times. How awful our first instincts can be and just the importance of opening your ears all the time to God, he speaks to us at the most important of times. I promise if you listen, he'll teach you something! I PROMISE!
I vow upon return to Rwanda- to give my favorite Pink Hoodie (slightly tainted but FILLED with love) to my sweet Deborah at Gisimba, her sister and her best friends who all make up her BIG, HUGE, LOVING family.
On a completely different level, I had an AMAZING Saturday spent with family and friends at the Iowa State Vs. Kansas Basketball game! My Grandma, Dad, Sister, her best friend (Kristen), Brother-in-Law, my best friend (Neha) all spent the afternoon at Hilton Coliseum cheering on our respective teams. It was a wonderful day and even though my cyclones lost it was so fun to spend time with everyone. I couldn't help but wish Deborah could see something like it, someday.

Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us- Romans 5:3-5

Friday, January 22, 2010

LOVE

Love - Urukundo (Love in Kinyarwanda- Rwanda's Native Language)

"If you want to make the days in your life really matter,

then you must love something." -Kobi Yamada

"All you need is love." -John Lennon

"We know things better through love than through knowledge." -Umberto Eco

"Choose thy love: Love thy choice" -German Proverb

Love is the only shocking act left on this planet...

This is LOVE. Love In it's purist form.

God IS Love.

I.C.Y.I.Z.E.R.E: Hope

Tonight was a glimpse of Hope- quite literally.

I've been working so hard on this Summer's 2010 Service Learning Trip to Rwanda and sometimes when I feel like I want to rip my hair out and scream at the top of my lungs, when I feel like nobody understands me or how badly I need to be back in Rwanda, I remember what keeps me sane, what keeps me motivated to go to school, to get up each morning, to love what I do, to love with my whole heart and to take nothing for granted; and it's called Rwanda. God has amazing ways of letting me know everyday he is with me- I'm just enthralled with the evidence that is his love, all around me...EVERYDAY! Today was a hard day on meemotionally, we haven't yet met the numbers for this summers Rwanda trip to become a go yet (which we were supposed to have the final word by now) but I got the due date extended and am still hard at work motivated to make it happen. I get flustered and frustrated, but then I just have to remember- Why do I worry? God will take care of this- God will get me back to Rwanda. Needless to say, I needed some hope, and that came in a rather blunt form of a Documentary screening tonight on campus here at Iowa State University by the name of ... "Icyizere - HOPE." <-- God at work.

It was a documentary about 10 victims of the 1994 Rwandan Genocide and 10 perpetrators, they were all a part of a 3 day conference where they were taught about post traumatic stress syndrome, trauma, coping methods and how to forgive. I sat down in the Great Hall preparing myself for the documentary. But nothing prepares you for what you see. I've been to Rwanda, I've seen numerous movies about the genocide, numerous movies with Rwanda in it and or Rwandans, but nothing prepares me for the next thing I see or the next thing I watch. Maybe I'm homesick for my other home, or maybe It's just exactly what I needed to see in my moment of frustration with the trip planning, but I Just sat there, in my chair, and lost it. I bawled for the entire hour and a half. I cried as Rwandans shared their stories from the genocide, I cried as the camera panned the landscape, I cried as the children played with tires in the streets. For some reason though I wasn't crying because I was sad (even though I was), I wasn't crying because my heart ached for them (even thought it was), I wasn't crying because I missed my babies in Rwanda (even though I do)...I was crying because God is with them, he is EVERYWHERE In Rwanda, and it was beyond beautiful to sit back and watch. I watched as the victims of the genocide lead some of the murders, some of the very men they knew had killed friends and family of their own, on trust walks. I watched them play games to better understand each other. I watched them all cry as one another shared their stories of loss or grievance or sorrow or shame. I watched them all be vulnerable in the presence of one another and pick up the pieces one by one together and help each other put one foot in front of the other and start to live again. There's no doubt that Rwanda has a shameful past and a horrible history of violence and genocide, but there they stood, all together in one room...and I couldn't help but lose it

If you ever get the chance or the opportunity- This movie was wonderful.

Rwanda never abandoned God, and he never abandons us. I heard tonight the biggest form of love is sacrifice- For god so loved the world he gave his only son.

"Africa, sings a new song, reaching out with a new hallelujah. Every son and every daughter, everyone sing a new hallelujah."

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

The Letter & 28 Stories of AIDS In Africa

Happy Wednesday and what a winter day it is! It rained ice all through the night last night and into the morning and the city of Ames, Iowa is nothing short of an ice skating rink today- as well as many other cities in Iowa today. Be Safe today fellow Iowans!

Yesterday in my favorite class this semester, African American Studies, we watched a video. The video was titled, "The Letter" and It was a documentary of sorts about the town of Lewiston, Maine (well known for the Textile Mill, Bates Mill, in the 1950's) and the issues regarding the large Somali population they have now residing in their town. To give a brief overview of how they landed in Lewiston I will say this, The US ran them out of their own country due to our foreign policy and the war that Somalia endured. So to make up for their faults, the US placed the displaced Somalians in America. However, they chose to place them in communities where they felt they'd "fit in best" such as primarily African American communities. Many Somali's were placed in the rough neighborhoods of Atlanta, Georgia and after much dispute, crime and attacks against the Somalians they realized this was no place they wanted to inhabit, let alone raise their children, and went looking for a town in which they desired to live. Enter- Lewiston, Maine, the town the majority of Somali's agreed on to settle in. As you may see coming, the mainly Caucasian town split down the middle between two sides regarding the overnight Somali population residing in their town. One side was for them being there, the other was not. The video interviewed many people on each side of the issue. Those against the Somali's had me fuming, one man said the following,

"All men to be created equal? Oh that's just meant for if you're white and Christian."

How ignorant! If what he even believes to be true is true, than that would make him a Christian himself and how could those words even come out of your mouth? God loves EVERYONE, he especially doesn't judge by color or ethnicity. A Christian like himself should know that! Another instance of ignorance from the film was from none other than the MAYOR himself, Laurier T. Raymond, who wrote a letter asking the Somali's to tell their friends and family members intending to come toLewiston that they are not welcome, that they are out of resources to help them and to move elsewhere. The letter proved the immense lack ofknowledge from the Mayor about the Somali's. The Mayor stated in the letter that the Somali's have no skills to bring to their community, and then they cut to interviews of the Somali's who listed off their numerousamounts of education and work qualifications- there were teachers, lawyers, even a nurse who the town had working at a store because the city officials would not allow them to take on any other job but simply that of running a store in the downtown area...It showed how much the Mayor chose to not take any time at all getting to know them, he just simply formulated his own opinion and left it at that- ignorance at it's finest. The Mayor also went on about their lack of language skills- cut again to the Somali's listing off all five languages they are fluent in, one being English! He says they don't pay taxes, they were paying taxes. They even held a huge rally for both sides of the issue to come and discuss their differences. The Mayor, Laurier T. Raymond, chose his week of vacation during that rally and was less than phased that he was to miss one of the biggest events in Lewiston history.

There was, however, many lights of hope in the form of accepting, loving and understanding community members. One who grabbed my attention the most was a city missionary, Mark Schlotterbeck, who I shared many of my beliefs with. It was almost like- in my eyes, the white supremacy groups were acting out the work of the devil and the missionaries of the town as well as the Somali population were living out Christ's work. The Somali's were interviewed saying,

"I know some of these people don't want us here, in fact, they say they hate us, but we have no hate for them."

How is it that the Somali's presence can be so controversial and yet theydon't give into hatred and violence like much of the community themselves were. My favorite community member, Schlotterbeck, and others like him made comments that just sent chills down my spine and showed me that god was working in his own ways in the community ofLewiston, here's how I know that...

"We don't want them pointing fingers at ANYONE, we want them pointing in the direction of the solution."

"Our True Nationality is Man Kind!"

"Standing together to fight against Hatred and Bigotry!"

and my favorite, a little white girl with a homemade sign around her neck at the rally stating,

"My best friend was born in Somalia."

(insert waterworks here...I just bawled when I saw that. Such innocence, fighting for her own best friend even when it was clear that's what all the fuss was about. God works in Amazing ways!)

And at the very end of my notes I had written,

"I Miss Rwanda!"

-On a completely different note- I wanted to talk about the book that I am currently reading titled,

"28 Stories of AIDS in Africa"

I highly recommend this book to anyone! It is 28 stories, interviewed and collected by the author (Stephanie Nolen), of AIDS in Africa. The story touches on every ones story, "From teachers to truckers, sex workers to orphans" I'm only half way through right now but I already have so many thoughts running through my mind. I've read the story of the truck driver, who is now celibate, but who has aids from his random nights on the road with prostitutes. I've read the story of the nurse who everyone thought would NEVER obtain a "poor, white-mans disease like AIDS." I've read the story of the 74 year old woman raising 20 children- some her own, some her grandchildren and some her great grandchildren, all who lost their birth parents to AIDS so they were taken back to their longest living family member, who is living with AIDS herself. but most impacting, personally, of all was the story I read of the 10 year old girl, Tigist Haile Michael, living with AIDS and also raising her younger brother. They lost their parents to AIDS and lived in their parents shack in Uganda. Tigist dropped out of school to get a job to raise money for her and her brother to keep their house, buy food and keep her brother in school. She was faced with the possibility of having to prostitute for money (due to her environment) to get her and her brothers head above water, but moved them out of the neighborhood because she would never sleep with a man for money. So they moved into somewhat of a cardboard box in a far away neighborhood to escape the negativity. For the entirety of the chapter as the author is telling Tigist's story she asks the issues of, "How do you keep yourself alive, how to you manage to stay healthy? What's your driving force?" and the very last paragraph reads this,

"And when Yohannes (younger brother) had gone back out to run with his friends in the street, Tigist watched him from the doorway, her head against one slim-fingered hand, and she said, "If we had more, I would try to take better care of him. I have to take care of him. That's why I Survive."

This just sent chills up my spine, a 10-year old child, who should be playing and worried about how she was going to wear her hair to school or what game she was going to play at recess, was raising herself and her younger brother. I wanted to just pack up and move to Uganda and raise Tigist and Yohanne myself. How could this just go on? How is AIDS getting to these angels and how can we as a nation help to stop it? I know God looks over them, I know God has a plan for everyone, but I also know God wants us to help...he wants us to care and he wants us to love everyone. And I do, God, I love your daughterTigist and your son Yohanne. God, please look after the two as I see you working in her life as she knows not to sell herself to older men for money. God, please look after all the little children in Africa, put your hand in theirs as I know you do and just walk through life with them. Tell them that I am coming. I will come to help your children God.

I can't help but worry about Paskeline, Deborah, Davide, Jideo and Eli (My children in Rwanda) and know that someday they will age out of the orphanage and be on their own, I pray that the girls will never seek refuge in prostitution, but please lord, never let a man get a hold of them. Never let a man touch Deborah or Paskeline.

Please lord, let me get there first.

That's why, when I heard of the solid trust you have in the Master Jesus and your outpouring of love to all the followers of Jesus, I couldn't stop thanking God for you—every time I prayed, I'd think of you and give thanks. But I do more than thank. I ask—ask the God of our Master, Jesus Christ, the God of glory—to make you intelligent and discerning in knowing him personally, your eyes focused and clear, so that you can see exactly what it is he is calling you to do, grasp the immensity of this glorious way of life he has for his followers, oh, the utter extravagance of his work in us who trust him—endless energy, boundless strength.

Ephesians 1:15-19

Monday, January 18, 2010

It's the crime, not the Country

1:46 a.m. I'm exhausted and just got back home from a wonderful night in at a close friends apartment. We played old games and enjoyed each others company- reminiscing on old stories and fun memories...It was a wonderful change from nights out on Welch Ave. surrounded by hundreds of strangers who know nothing about me.

I'm exhausted, and the only thing keeping me from my pillow right now is a thought weighing heavy on my heart (and has been for a while now) and seeing as I'm not quite sure if anyone even reads my blog or knows of it's existence I'm not sure that this will prove to be much more than just a personal relief to put myself at ease by writing down (or typing rather) the way I'm feeling.

Well- Here goes...
Having returned home after a summer abroad in Africa you can imagine the questions I heard on a all too familiar occasion. But the one that hurts the most is, "Africa? Rwanda? Weren't you scared?" First of all- No. God is my creator and he holds my fate. Who am I to test it or to fear what he has planned for me? When you know who you're living for it's easy to just sit back and go without hesitation. Of course the history of Rwanda with the genocide in '94 is a tragedy, I have so much to releaseon that topic alone, but why should that hold anyone back? That was 16 years ago. That's 16 years of progress and reform that their country has gained, and they sure have...at what time is a country at their best? at their safest? Who's to say that any horrible act of violence, crime or destruction couldn't happen anywhere, at anytime? What makes Rwanda "scary" because of their tribulation? Who are we to even classify a place as scary? God created this world and he made no country unsafe- Man did. So what's to say what man did in one land couldn't be done in another...? For that alone Rwanda is no scarier than the United States. Also, because disease, crime and devastationhave taken place in Africa, that makes it a bad place? Things of the same magnitude happen all the time in America, but because it's America it's not scary or bad? Why do the same things occur in two places but because one is Africa, it's deemed scary? I am just as likely to be robbed walking down the street in Kigali, Rwanda as I am in Downtown Chicago. A bad neighbor hood is just as bad in Arusha, Tanzania as it is in New York City. My point being, it's not the country that's "scary" it's the crime itself...Its only human beings that make it out to be just the opposite. Don't let mainstream beliefs about countries divert you from traveling there. Go see the world and develop your own thoughts. Test yourself, go where you fear the most and know God is with you. He holds our fate and we're silly to fear that he is never at our side in our times of fear or nervousness. He created this world and for that we are in good hands. He calls us all over the world, Go, and do his work wherever he leads you. Talk to a homeless man when others label them dangerous, go to a country that others deem un-safe... exit you're comfort zone for no more than a minute, you will learn so much in that minute you might not ever go back. I hope to never live entirely in my comfort zone, God is my comfort zone...and he is all around me. So for that, all things are possible.

I hate to rant, but I can't sleep without putting my thoughts somewhere.

Time For Bed

Finally, brethren whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, let your mind dwell on these things.

Philippians 4:8

Ask, and it shall be given you; seek; and you shall find; knock and it shall be opened unto you. For every one that asketh; and he that seekethfindeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.

Matthew 7:7-8

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

God is GOOD.

Today was amazing - to say the least, and God is GOOD. I learned a wonderful lesson in my faith today and was truly shown the wonderful acts of God when you surrender your life to him. I was asked to present my Rwanda Service Learning experience to a class here at Iowa State University, for the second time this year. Last time I got to do it with another girl from the trip, which aided as a bit of a crutch to calm and ease my nerves while standing in front of 80-100 of my peers. However, on my drive to present I got the news that she wasn't feeling good (feel better soon Em! I love you!) I immediately felt a sense of shock, and a million questions raced through my head;

"How will I do this presentation on my own?"

"The only way I know how to present this material is with her.. how will I get through this alone?"

"I haven't even practiced, what will I talk about?"

so I turned to God. I parked my car in the parking garage, folded my hands in my lap and prayed. I asked God to give me the strength to get up in front of my peers and pass on to them my passion and love for Rwanda. I asked him to be there with me, to center my wandering mind and to speak through me. I felt almost silly for being nervous, why was I so worried, It's not like even if I had rehearsed a thousand times I would even be able to do it myself anyway, nothing is possible without him. So I arrived to the classroom, and as I was introduced by the professor I felt a sense of calm, it was an experience unexplainable - like nothing I'veever felt before. It was as if God wrapped his arms around me and said to me, "I am here, lets do this." and the last thing I remember was asking the audience if anyone had any questions. WOW! God.is.GREAT! My faith and my relationship with God has grown so powerful, and all I can do is sit back and bask in the glory of it. I got such positive feedback from the teacher and on my way out the door of the classroom one of the students stopped me and said to me,

"That was a really good presentation, I just wanted to tell you that!"

I smiled the whole way back to my car, the whole way home, and basically the whole rest of the day. I was so silly to be nervous, God is in charge of my fate, and I know he is calling me to Rwanda. He is wonderful and today was proof of that. If only everyone could feel the way I felt today. I'm sure- well I HOPE, they have.

God.is.GOOD.

don't forget to listen to him, he is always there and always willing to wrap his arms around you and say to you, "I am here, lets do this."

Psalm 34:8

Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Oh, and...

I miss you all more than you will EVER realize.

Goodnight Rwanda

I am getting ready to call it a night.
1:35 a.m...the late nights are a reminder school has officially begun.
Something, however, seems to be lingering especially heavily on my mind...

goodnight little Ishimwe.

Rwanda.

Maybe it will help to say my goodnights on here, since I cannot be there.

SO...
goodnight Thadee.
goodnight Davide.
goodnight Pasikaline.
goodnight Eli.
goodnight Jideo.
goodnight Deborah.
goodnight RWANDA.

Sleep well and know that I am with you in spirit!

"I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you." John 14: 18-19

Monday, January 11, 2010

First Day of my Last Semester

I am 21 years old, a senior at Iowa State University and I have just spent the following summer in Rwanda, Africa. I am currently back in the US now finishing up my last semester of college at Iowa State. Today is the first day of classes and I have mixed emotions as I go into the new semester. I am excited to graduate, nervous to enter the real world and continuously living each day as one day closer to getting back to Rwanda.

During this past month of May I spent 30 days on a service-learning trip to Rwanda through my university, and it has since changed my life entirely. While in Africa I managed to accomplish a lot...

I've fallen in love with their culture,

opened my eyes to the extreme poverty and hunger that countries like Rwanda face each and everyday,

learned about their education systems, women's shelters, AIDS clinics, etc...

I've also forever lent my heart to the Gisimba Memorial Center- where it will always stay (the orphanage in which we spent most of our time during the trip)

Made an amazing friend;

Thadee

and fallen in love with one of the children at

Gisimba to the point where I consider her my own daughter-

She IS my own daughter,

Deborah

As well as so much more.

I am so blessed to have had this opportunity, and have grown so far in my faith and relationship with God. My time back has felt less than natural and extremely unfulfilled. I have a place in Africa, that's where my heart is and where I know I belong. This is my struggle to get back to the things and the people who need me the most. I strongly feel a calling to return to Africa, I know it is my calling and I know it is Gods plan for me.

As for now, I'm off to knock out this first day of classes. Two today, Business of Child Care & Abuse and Illness in Families. Wish me Luck!

"One of the greatest gifts you can give to yourself or anyone else is inspiration. Inspiration to get in touch with your dreams. Inspiration to seek out your deepest passions. Inspiration to make a difference in the world, a difference that only you can make."