Hilariousness

--Overheard at the health center: "Alma, why don't you take one of the mosquito nets for pregnant women? The mosquitoes are really getting at your face!" Unfortunately I have yet to find the word for pimple in Kinyarwanda. 

--Overheard at the market: “Alma, are you a nun? We must find you a husband immediately! We will find you a Rwandan husband in no time!”

--Overheard at the bread store/tea shop: “You are American! Take me to America! I know the visa is complicated, but you can marry me, it will be no problem!
 

--Responses to “If you want to marry me, you must give my father 600 cows” have included:

• Your father is crazy. 
• Only President Kagame has that many cows.
• I have 800 cows. Call your father. 
• They have cows in America?
• How many children does your father have? Only three?! No sons?! He cannot ask for so much!
• My favorite: And how many cows did your father give when he married your mother?

--The Kinyarwanda expression for someone who is courting/dating: umuhinzi. Also means farmer or farming. In Rwanda you are not a player, rather, you are a farmer.
 

--I milked a cow. It was amazing. Also really hard, but amazing. I can die happy now.


Other miscellaneous:
Check out my amazing and talented sister Daniela dance Swan Lake!

Conference Culture

In the world of aid, conferences and trainings are huge. In many ways, it makes sense. Bringing together professionals, healthcare workers, and other various community leaders to share information about health, education, and development is a good idea in any setting. But I’m starting to think too much of a good thing can be bad.

During the first fifteen weeks of 2011 the ten nurses and high level administrators at my health center have attended a cumulative total of fourteen weeks worth of trainings and conferences. This does not include the various lower level administrative staff and nurses who also attend conferences.

These trainings are almost always sponsored by international NGOs or foreign aid agencies like USAID, UNICEF, or Save the Children. The events generally take place at nice hotels in the larger cities. Hosting organizations provide all attendees with lodging, food, transport, and per diem. Topics include family planning, vaccination procedures and policies, HIV/AIDS, tuberculosis, etc. and are repeated often. Three different nurses at my health center have attended three separate conferences on TB this year.

I sat in on a very modest two-day conference held at my health center where the daily per diem was 30,000 RWF. The standard salary for a nurse at my health center is around 90,000 RWF a month (approximately 150USD). Needless to say, people are ager to attend trainings and conferences. This creates quite a bit of tension and animosity among staff.

I do think trainings are important and beneficial for development. I am, however, becoming much less enthusiastic about them.

A few weeks ago, there was quite a bit of drama at the health center. Two nurses were mad at each other. Turns out a nurse (we’ll call her Nancy), was attending a conference in Butare, the big city two hours away, with one of the administrators (we’ll call him Bob). Another Nurse (we’ll call her Betty) was furious. The conference’s topic was Betty’s area of expertise, but Bob decides who goes to the conferences, and he chose Nancy. Betty is an older nurse, married with children. Nancy is a younger nurse, single and flirtatious. Bob is also a well-known womanizer. Everyone at work thinks Bob invited Nancy to the conference so he could sleep with her. … And I thought I was going to miss Grey’s Anatomy!

Ascaris Lumbricoides

In Peace Corps they tell you to celebrate the small victories, so allow me to gloat. Last Monday I correctly identified a case of worms.

Every Monday morning between ten and twenty malnourished children and their mothers come into the clinic for Out Patient Therapeutic Treatment. My counterpart, the health center nutritionist, and I weigh the children (who are generally between six months and five years of age) to check for progress and give out Plumpynut. Plumpynut is a Ready to Use Therapeutic Food (RUTF). A highly nutritious food bar, sort of like a Slim Fast bar except instead of overweight American adults eating it to lose weight; malnourished African children eat it to gain weight.

Mondays are both heartbreaking and incredibly inspiring. To say these kids are adorable doesn’t even begin to describe it. Now that I’m relatively established none of the kids cry when they see me. In fact, some even run to greet and hug me when they arrive at the health center!

Generally speaking, there are two general types of malnutrition: chronic and acute. Acute malnutrition is generally more temporary and if quickly addressed, ramifications are not severe. Children with acute malnutrition often have swollen cheeks and bellies. Chronic malnutrition is a result of long-term malnutrition. It causes stunting, hair loss, and generally slows the development of children. Eventually your body loses the ability to absorb nutrients so treatment is more complicated and can require years of medical attention. (To my friends who studied nutrition or are in med school-- please forgive this dumb-ed down explanation).

Both types of malnutrition affect your body’s ability to fight off foreign bacteria and viruses, which is particularly problematic for small children living in environments with very poor hygiene.

Surrounded by malnourished children on a daily basis, I am slowly learning to identify the warning signs and characteristics of the various levels. So, last Monday when I saw a very upset four-year-old girl with a particularly swollen stomach, but normally sized ankles, wrists, and cheeks I knew something was wrong. After consulting with my counterpart I took my small friend to the lab and where the technicians identified the intestinal parasite causing her pain and weight loss.

I feel a little embarrassed to admit I did take advantage of my umuzungu status to break protocol, insurance procedures, and lines in order to get the diagnosis and the drugs to cure her. I do not plan to act in this manner for the next two years, but I’m not losing any sleep about it this time. At a health center that serves over 12,000 people staffed with only ten nurses (no doctors) there are times people rush and patients get overlooked.

I am hoping that as my language skills improve and health center staff trusts me more, I will be able to help address more of these types of issues. Plumpynut will not cure malnutrition in a child with worms just like ibuprofen will not kill the tuberculosis virus misdiagnosed as a common cold.

While I personally cannot positively diagnose any of it or provide care to cure it, I can work on making it easier and more effective for those who do.

Genocide Memorial Week

April 7^th marked the beginning of a three-month national mourning period to commemorate the victims of the 1994 Genocide. During the week of April 7-13^th the National Commission to Fight Against Genocide organizes events nationwide to honor the memory of those who perished.

Leading up, I had hoped the week and the events scheduled in my community would be a chance for me to be a positive presence and really integrate in my community. In retrospect it was incredibly naïve and insensitive of me to expect genocide victims and survivors to discuss such traumatic events with the new foreign white girl in town who barely understands the language. To put it simply, the week was depressing and I think confusing for everyone, including myself.

I woke up on the 7^th and prepared myself for the community event at the local memorial site, which I knew was planned. I was unclear at what time everything was happening (a common predicament in my life), but I figured I would just go with my roommates.

As the minutes and then hours passed with no sign of life from my roommates’ rooms other than the really loud radio playing sad songs about the genocide, I began to get anxious. Finally, one of my roommates emerged and told me the community event was at 2 PM. But two o’clock came and went and no one in my house seemed to be going anywhere. When I finally asked if we were going, my roommate told me she did not like going to any memorial sites because it was too difficult. I later found out both her parents and two siblings were killed in the genocide. She was barely ten years old.

Although I missed the opening event, I attended most of the afternoon discussion sessions the rest of the week. I understood next to nothing, no one offered to translate and I didn’t think it appropriate to ask. Throughout the week I observed friends who I thought were incredibly outgoing and cheerful really shut down. I am hoping my presence was seen as a sign of respect and solidarity as well as a step in the right direction.

Mac & Cheese

I think I’ve already mentioned how lucky I am in Rwanda because it is a country with cheese. Not just the Laughing-Cow stuff: real cheese. On my last trip into Butare I bought a half heel of gouda cheese and brought it home to make my own version of mac & cheese! 

I have decided to call the experiment a moderate success. Considering I cooked on a wood fire held up by rocks and had three Rwandan roommates rolling on the floor with laughter as I tried to strain pasta without a strainer, I’m giving myself a pat on the back.

In order to make this a nutritiously balanced diet I complimented my oily starches with green beans! I cooked them with carrots and onions and added what I feared might be too much salt and various other spices. I thought it was delicious. My roommate Grace looked like she was going to vomit when she tried them. Umunyu!!! She screamed as she grabbed the saltshaker. Rwandans love salt. 

In America...

I have a very friendly coworker who has some pretty hilarious ideas about the United States (and Coca-Cola). Here’s what he told me last Monday:

·   In America, your family is very rich.

·   You are very rich.

·   In America, money is no problem.

·   In America, no one is poor.

·   In America, everyone has at least $100 or $200 per day.

·   In America, only refugees are poor. No REAL, ORIGINAL Americans are poor. (This concession was made only after I insisted that poor people existed in the United States).

·   In America, everyone has food and shelter.

·   In America, it is normal for twenty-year-old women to marry fifty-year-old men.

·   In America, once you are fifteen your family kicks you out of your house.

·   Peace Corps will pay for you to visit your family in America at Christmas time.

·   Peace Corps pays your family while you are here.

·   Peace Corps pays you lots of money.

·   There is no sugar in Coca-Cola or Coca-Cola products.

·   Even if there is sugar in Fanta Citron, your teeth are strong because you are strong.

·   If you are big and strong sugar cannot hurt your teeth.

At first I was really furious about some of these assumptions, particularly ones having to do with money. It’s a constant struggle for me to smile and keep going when I get “I am poor, give me money” and “White person, I am hungry!” comments. (By the way, last person who said this was actually eating while she yelled at me).

But then I thought about the questions and concerns my friends in the United States had about Rwanda. It’s been a little better than Niger because people actually know Rwanda is a country, unfortunately most people only know about the genocide.

So it appears we have some global misunderstandings. Na cibazo. No problem. This is why Peace Corps has three goals! I’m working on it. For now, I’m setting up a little middle school science experiment to show my coworker how bad Coca-Cola actually is for your teeth.

Mid-Service & PEPFAR Conference

Seven days after arriving at my site, I left for a Mid-Service Volunteer Conference. At this point I think it’s fair to say my Peace Corps timeline is not traditional.

Things that were awesome about MSC:

• SOULEYMAN! My APCD from Niger is in Rwanda! He’s helping the Peace Corps Rwanda team with their health program and also with the training program. It was so absolutely wonderful to see him, and even practice Hausa kadan, kadan.

View of Lake Kivu from the Guest House

• Lake Kivu. The guesthouse where I stayed had incredible views of Lake Kivu and D.R. Congo. Incredible sunsets!

• Nyungwe Rainforest. The bus I took to get to Cyangugu, where the conference was held, drove through the Nyangue Rainforest. In three months I’ve seen the Sahel, the Sahara, and now a rainforest. Wow.

awesome bird watching in Rwanda!

• Meeting Rwanda PCVs. This was the main reason I went to the conference. Up until the conference I had very little opportunity to interact with other PCVs, so it was great to make new friends.

• Haircut. One of the other PCVs trimmed my hair, which was desperately needed and very much appreciated.   

The conference was divided into two segments. The first two days were strictly for the health volunteers who have now been in Rwanda for over a year: to discuss challenges and triumphs, and to brainstorm. The later part of the week was focused on HIV/AIDS and the President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR), and how PCVs might use PEPFAR funds in their communities to fight the devastating effects of HIV/AIDS.

Overall the week was an interesting learning experience for me. Turns out Peace Corps culture in Rwanda and Niger vary as much as the local culture (which, in case you’re wondering is a lot). BUT, na cibazo, babu lahi, no problem! I’m excited to bring a little bit of Niger to Rwanda, and soak in all the amazing opportunities Rwanda has to offer. 

I’ve been told the mid-service mark tends to be a difficult one for most volunteers. People realize they’re halfway through and often get frustrated or discouraged about how little they feel they have accomplished. I could definitely sense frustration in many of the volunteers, although from my point of view they were being way too hard on themselves. A lot of the things they said they were doing in their communities sounded incredible and have given me some inspiration and a lot to look forward to as well.