comments on this internship

Rwanda reminds me of a big patchwork quilt with all the farms as the different squares, the picture doesn't quite capture it. I think it will give you an idea though, just imagine the hills keep rolling, the quilt gets bigger and the designs keep diversifying. It has been an honor to spend every day of this week in these hills meeting people and talking to them about their community. Wow what depth of majesty is this creation!

These were the girls I wrote about previously whom I gave the pen to. We spoke with community leaders and church leaders, as well as visited many homes. I can not even explain how uncomfortable it made me to ask these questions to the people including: "What are the main sources of your income and how much do you make every day?" Or "how far do you walk to the nearest water source?" or "do you clean your water?" The answers were all the same. We would hear, "it's difficult to say how much money we make because whenever there is any money at all, we spend it on food or cloths." They said the main source of income was there crops but many times there was not enough harvest to feed the family daily, let alone to be sold in the market. They spoke of not enjoying the two hour walk to the market carrying vegetables or the same walk in another direction to fetch water. Many times they can not find enough fire wood to boil and clean their water, so they mix their clean water with dirty. It was no longer just facts we were gathering from the leaders, it was actual lives that were telling us the same difficult truth. We very quickly canned the survey and it was much nicer to chat in their homes.

I must say it has been a very difficult week. I have been struggling being here and finding my role as an American who lives a very different life than these people. Difficult questions rise as I contemplate the information I find out and the poverty that I see. Crying just thinking about the pain these people feel. You may say, "Well they don't know any different," but I still can't reconcile the fact that most children only eat one time every day. How can a person get used to that hungry feeling in his belly? It is so hard to keep myself from just handing out my lunch every day, fighting with the fact that they already expect white people to come and just hand them stuff and this action only encourages this mentality. While on the other hand I can't handle eating when they are not - or coming home to a big meal, I loose my appetite just thinking about it. Yes maybe they don't know what it feels like to have a shower head and running water, maybe they can live without those things, but you need meat and protein to survive and small animals are really lacking in this area. I can not even begin to put myself in their shoes, so I can not dare to say what they can and can not live without.

I don't even know anymore what is the correct response. Help me Lord to be here for the purpose in which you have sent me, and not to expect anything different.

Picture explanation

I just wanted to make sure you all knew that even though the blogs listed are from Rwanda, the four pictures below are from Uganda. The one with all the girls is in Kampala on January 30 when they made me a cake and sang to me after dinner. The others are from Tororo, Uganda when I visited the village for the weekend.

First Survey and Meeting with Community Leaders

February 20, 2009

Today we conducted our first survey at the place where the sector leader's office is. We were able to meet all the leaders of the different cells in the district of Muhanga, including the two communities we will be spending time in: Cyeza and Takwe.
There were at least 150 to 200 people standing and sitting in groups on the community lawn all morning long for a five-minute meeting with the leader. I am proud to say that the leader of the entire sector was a woman about 29 years old. She was going to appoint a member, who is a survivor of the Rwandan genocide, to speak on behalf of the rest. They all lined up and cheered when she came out to speak to them. She spoke to them with authority and they respected her. She has the highest position in her district; she is in charge of many people's lives and safety and a great woman for it I might say. We were honored that she invited us into her office and allowed us to take up her time and talk.
It's amazing the way people work together for the good of the whole community. I can't imagine all the counties in even just southern NH coming together, meeting on a lawn and cheering when the governor came out to greet them and speak, without even a microphone, giving him that much respect.

We spoke with a community member for about an hour. The interview went quite well considering Marceline - an FH CDP officer, often struggled with the English to explain. God really conducted the survey because I don't believe there was any miscommunication.

I am excited to visit several households next week and talk with the children.

I held another baby – and spoke with a few more young girls who were standing nearby, fascinated for some reason. They warmed up to me and gave me multiple hugs after I gave them my water bottle. They were extremely thirsty because they drank the whole thing right away. I was sitting waiting for my “moto” (small motorcycle taxi) driver to come and take me back to the FH office, when she came over to me all timid and asked in a faint voice, “Where's the pen?” I said, “Pen?” and made a witting motion. She said, “Yes!” I pulled out a pink, sparkly pen and gave it to her – she was overjoyed. I said, “Miridwe!” which means goodbye in Kinarwandan and walked away. I realized I should have given them some paper and the other pen that was in my bag because she doesn't have school supplies.

The children that are sponsored in the CDP communities are given school supplies. Although FH chooses the families which are the poorest among the poor to be CDP children, and the entire family is taken care of through sponsorship, it makes me sad to think that some children don't have school supplies.

Job Description and Practicum Site

February 17, 2009

I am leaving tomorrow for my three-week internship in the southern province of Gitrama. This is a long update, but I feel that I need to give you an adequate description with examples of what Food for the Hungry does here and what I will be doing. Also, it might be awhile until the next update as I don't know when I will have internet again.

Danielle and I will be doing needs assessment and community study in many different communities. Just to give you an idea of this CDP (Child Development Program) in Rwanda: It is about building community through sponsorship from countries all over the world. There are 15 CDP centers in Rwanda. The biggest center has 1174 children they are responsible for in different communities. Rwanda is divided into four provinces, 50 districts, 145 sectors, 4000 cells, and 100 villages which are broken up into households. The total population is nine million.

We are working with some Food For the Hungry (FH) field staff in creating a Community Transformation (CT) Plan which focuses on developing the strengths of an entire community. What I will do is: spend time in the community, observe how people are living their lives and what is missing. The way we will do this is by surveying them. For example observe the school buildings- are there classrooms? Why is the number of children attending school so low? Do they have adequate space and resources for an efficient learning environment? Are their physical needs being met? Do the families have money to pay the school fees? Above all, FH is seeking to find out if the resources are there for the children to have the opportunity to improve their lives. “If the families, churches and leaders are meeting the needs of the children, then we as FHI Rwanda are meeting our goals,” quotes Ernest the CDP Officer here in Kigali.

FH will use the descriptions that we write about the communities to continue their work. Once they have assessed the work and measured the progress, they are able to leave the community and move to more developing. What are measurable indicators? We know we have transformed these communities when for example the schools have a safe water source for the children to drink from. They train Care Team Leaders from the community who will be able to sustain the progress when FH leaves.

I am so excited to be apart of real, positive change in these people's lives and for my life to be changed in the process. I have been studying communication: community development, conflict in communities and interpersonal relationships, power, journalism, media and speech writing and many more applicable subjects. The amazing thing is that now I will get to experience and observe, first hand, how these things are helpful in a situation such as this. I feel very humbled and unaware, after talking to the field experts that I will be assisting; it will be interesting to see what parts of my education will be highlighted through this work. I know as I am immersed in this culture that my heart will be drawn to these people and helping empower them to own their own poverty in their community and encourage their strengths.

There are children that run all through these offices and I am thrilled to be able to interact with them as well. I am looking forward to learning so much from these community members; meeting people and enjoying their way of living. I am so honored to have the opportunity of being a part of this work for even a short time. I hope that I can be productive with my time and once again take the most of every opportunity to soak up all that I can about this culture.

AHHH I can't believe I'm Here!

Arrival in Kigali, Rwanda!

February 16, 2009

So today we drove to Rwanda! I realize after ten hours on the bus and two hours at the border filling out immigration papers and walking a few kilo's, without any direction, in a very unorganized fashion across Uganda to Rwanda; that here I am. This will be my new home for the next nine weeks. It feels like the first day all over again.

I am greeted stepping off the bus by a mob of young men asking if I want “a special.” I look behind and the others are not there. I am sure I don't want the special even though I don't know what it is, I don't want to find out. I think they may be talking about taxis??? After the rest of the team joins me, we wait awkwardly with our bags for the man whose only description was no different from every other man there – a young, black man with no facial hair, and driving a white bus. Driving to where we will be staying I'm hugely impressed with the city of Kigali. It’s clean, and not as crazy as Kampala.

Let me try to explain the “Taxi Park” of Kampala which was my main downfall of the city. First of all a “taxi” is a sort of mini van with fourteen seats squished in and that are not what you call sturdy vehicles – most of them are falling apart. There are three parks – a new one which Ugandans call the old one sometimes; an old one, which may be referred to as the new one or the old one depending on who you ask; and an old, old one which many people don't even know exists. As you can see, they are not clearly named, communication is difficult and remembering directions is close to impossible. I would just rather be dragged around by a Ugandan who knows where he is going.

I was and still am very intimidated by Kampala's Taxi Park. It's a huge area of dirt with a million taxis stuffed – parked or driving – in every which direction with different stages labeling where they should be going which is not always true. You are supposed to know and in order to catch it you must chase it or you will be skipped over and pushed out of the way.

I don't know how to explain the amounts of people in this place, not to mention all the vendors along the way. A few girls actually got a pedicure done in the middle of the park just for an experience and because it was 2000 shillings which is about a dollar.

While trying to find your way, you are running around, avoiding being smashed as you squeeze in between two taxis which are idle or run away from the ones speeding up when they see you crossing the street, stepping in what you hope is just mud puddles but it's not likely, all while politely trying to greet each person that acknowledges the white person with a smile. They are just happy to see you, they don't know your utter disparity and lack of knowledge as to where you are going – or maybe they do and it's humoring them. It's frustrating and difficult, but after you have successfully gotten around in the Park, you feel a sense of accomplishment until you try to go again.

I only got lost in the Taxi Park once by myself the day I was beginning to thank God for my good life because I didn't think there would be a way out until a very nice man, who sensed my desperation, graciously led me exactly to where I needed to be. I said, “Thank you very much!” and he said, “You’re very welcome,” and walked away. Wow, a miracle!

My Contact Information and Personal Greetings

Hello Everyone!

I don't know if you all have my contact information, but I would really love to hear from you. Thanks for the few who have been commenting. I didn't do a good job of leaving messages before I left for Uganda.

My email is agdanian@yahoo.com. My phone number will change in a week because I leave for Rwanda, but if you have international calling let me know and I will give you my new number in Rwanda when I get it.

Thanks Barbara and other UNHM staff for keeping in touch; your notes truly encourage me. Thanks Marjie for all your help with the blog!

Jen Luoma! If you are reading this, please email me -I miss your beautiful smile and I don't have your email address. To all my girls: Krissy, please keep in touch! Katherine! Congratulations and I love you. I am so so happy for you! Enjoy your Journey! I am praying for you! Julie - I miss you! Email me because I don't have yours either! All bible study people, I miss it so much but I have some fun ideas for when I get home!

Interesting Random Things of African Life

Something I was thinking about today! So I was walking down the street, on my lunch break in between classes and was struck with the fact that I am here, and there are so many things that I see that I would never see there in America.

I saw a man standing on the side of the road with a basket on his head, carrying G Nuts in little baggies that he was selling. He was just standing there. Since I have been here already four weeks, I didn't think twice about it; however, I know when I go home I will miss these random things.

Yesterday I was riding a taxi with some of my group to Lake Victoria (went swimming at the beach in February by the way), and next to me were two of the cutest little kids. At first we didn't talk much, they were shy. I offered them a piece of gum and they took it right away. After a little while and a few smiles, they warmed up to me. I asked the girl her age and she just stared at me. "Are you six? Seven?" Then she said, "eight, nine, ten," and we proceeded to count to one hundred. I never did get her age, but we had fun counting. All the adults in the taxi were laughing and smiling at me. I try to say as much Lugandan as I can to them and it makes them very happy.

Tonight we walked up to these towers where we could look over the entire city of Kampala. The square miles are less than Phoenix; however, there are more than double the amount of people here. Looking out over the city at night, it’s just like any city, but during the day it's crazy crowded. You have to dodge the "bodas" they call them - mini motorcycle taxis that just drive wherever they want. They get into accidents all the time. We are not allowed to take them.

I will try not to forget all the little things that are so interesting that I wish you could all be here with me to see.

White Water Rafting Trip

Last weekend I went white water rafting on the Nile River. I never thought I would be saying that. I will just say that I was very humbled several times at those waves. I couldn't seem to get the hand of actually staying in the boat for the rapids and when I did I found it was so much more fun to go through them without falling out. When we came to the fifteen foot waterfall that had rocks at the bottom and if you fell out you were likely to get stuck and be shot out and rescued, I was a bit nervous. Actually terrified, because before this I had not managed to stay in the boat. I was really worried I was going to fall out and curl into a ball and hope to be spit out of the falls. God knew was anxious and I stayed in! For those who are regular rafters, these are class 5 rapids, so they are not joking!

I am so glad I went! I have a DVD of the trip as well to show you the seriousness of the waves.

Practicum: Community Transformation Officer

The job I applied for and received for practicum is titled a "Community Transformation officer" in Kigali, Rwanda. This is a hands on job. I will be talking to people in the community and helping to write up descriptions and needs in the community. The group I am working with deals with child development as well as the health of the entire community. I will get to play with a lot of kids too! I leave February 12 and am at practicum for four weeks and into my next set of classes which start in March. I will stay there right until the end of the trip and only come back to Uganda for one week at the end of April.

Rural Visit: January 23-25, 2009

Hey Everyone!

Four other students and I went to a village called Iyolwa in a city called Tororo in Uganda, five hours from Kampala. This was an amazing and eye-opening experience for me. I didn't want to leave, the land was beautiful, the soil was rich, the crops were plentiful, but most importantly the people were amazing and happy. I, in my American perspective, saw them as “happy” because they were content, smiling, or made me think that all was ok.

As I was walking through the streets, I could not help but think of all the things that they are missing and wonder if they ache for these things or even think about them. Questions just flooded my mind as we were walking through the village. Things like bank or savings, health insurance??? All these questions, just raise issues that I definitely need to think more about and I truly believe this is only the beginning of a wealth of understanding about this culture.

How do these people work? How do they recover when they get sick or when a monsoon hits and the rain destroys their mud houses and their roads are washed away? They work the land and whatever they need for the day, they trade it with something they have. They don't make money, they don't have electricity; they simply get up before the day light and take full advantage of the light; working all day until the moon light shines on them.

I was constantly humbled the whole weekend as I realized how much poverty I had in my own life. How much I realized that I need God's grace to get me through each day. He protects these people, He sees every life in here, He satisfies their needs, but what is it that put me in a healthier, wealthier place in the world than them? Why am I so blessed? Some of these people never left their village, they had never seen a white person, and here I am studying for a semester, in Africa.

There was a world vision center in this village and we met a man that works for them. You would have thought that there would be Americans visiting this center at least frequently; this man was in his late sixties and we were the first white people he has ever met. That is crazy to me! I am still trying to figure things out, but all I know that is that I am very poor, my definition of poverty is different, and quite frankly I really have no idea what it is.

On a lighter note though, I will say that I had a blast there as well. I convinced some of the girls to let me help them wash dishes, after assuring them that I did indeed know how. They said, “But your hands are so soft!” They finally complied with my request.

While we were washing dishes, a few of the guys slaughtered a chicken a few meters away from our station. After they plucked and skinned it, I went over there and said, “Oh, now it looks like a chicken!” The minute it came out of my mouth, I regretted it! What a stupid, American, town girl response. To me, a chicken looks no different than a packaged, boneless, skinless, breast; there is so much preparation that I take for granted every time I buy a chicken. There were little things like that I kept saying all weekend that really made me feel foolish, like mentioning bug spray to one of the girls or when asked if I like pork, telling them the way that I cook it (pulled pork in the crock pot). They just politely left me to figure out for myself that these things sounded crazy to them.

Another quick comment about the visit. Since four of us were in the same bed, I didn't sleep the first night but it was entertaining lying in bed listening to all the animals running around the house. Crashes and scurrying, my imagination was going wild. I wasn't sure what it was but it was close and loud and I was a little concerned. In the morning I found out that they have rats.

The language was Jap, “Yoga” is what I learned to say to everyone passing by. It means, How are you? The animals, the sounds, the smells, all so vivid in my mind; I really hope it always stays with me. On Saturday we had a huge spread for lunch under a tree. So peaceful ,and then we ate Jack fruit which is sweet, sappy and huge. You cut it open and peel out the pits and peel off the skin so you can eat the fleshy part; it was not like anything I've ever tasted.

I'm sorry this one is long, but I hope that I was able to give you a little glimpse from far away.