Rwanda Swear In

Congratulations to the brand new Peace Corps Rwanda Health Volunteers!  On July 13^th, eighteen Peace Corps trainees became volunteers at the American Ambassador’s residence in Kigali. My return from South Africa coincided with the event, so I was able to attend the ceremony, which was lovely. The trainees even arranged a traditional Rwandan song and dance routine!

Although the group had been training in Rwanda for ten weeks, I had not had the pleasure of meeting any of them before. Most of the new volunteers have been placed in the Southern Province, and several of them will be living in my district, so I was anxious to get to know what my new “neighbors” would be like. They’re wonderful.

It feels like just yesterday, and also a lifetime ago that I loaded the bus from Hamdallaye to Niamey with my fellow CHARM trainees, Tondi driving and everyone singing along to The Beatle’s “I get by with a little help form my friends”.  It’s been eight months since my swear-in. As I watched the new volunteers deliver their speeches (English, French, and Kinyarwanda) I thought a lot about my training group, now dispersed across Africa, Eastern Europe, North, and Central America. My heart sank as I thought about the various events and ceremonies my stage cannot do together. I miss you all so much!

At the same time, speaking with the new group fills me with hope and excitement. After the ceremony, they had lots of questions, and I realized I was semi-qualified to give some advice about work and life in Rwanda. Finally, I am not the new kid in country! This group is Rwanda’s fifth group of trainees, but the first group to have lived with host families during training (not including my mini-group of four Niger transfers). They are energetic, passionate, and dedicated. I am so excited to be in Rwanda with them.

Things I did in South Africa

• Meet amazing volunteers from other Peace Corps countries. Two other volunteers from Rwanda, also PCVs from Zambia, Lesotho, Malawi, Cameroon, South Africa, and Madagascar. The PCV from Madagascar started her service in Niger! I also met three Cornell alumni who now serve in South Africa. That brings my total Cornellian count to seven serving as PCVs in three different countries.
• Enjoy time with former Peace Corps Niger Volunteers. Although I was unable to visit their sites, the three volunteers from Niger who transferred to South Africa were in Pretoria for their In Service Training and I was able to visit with them briefly. It was fantastic to see them, reminisce about Niger, and also hear about their successes and challenges in South Africa.
• Attend mass in Spanish. You read that correctly. I attended a Catholic Church service, in Spanish, in South Africa. This was thanks to a wonderful couple also staying at the Rose Guest House, also for medical reasons, who also generally work in Rwanda. The husband works for the U.S. Treasury Department in Rwanda, and his wife is Bolivian. I don’t consider myself a religious person but I really enjoyed the mass. Sitting there, in South Africa, with people from across the world, speaking in Spanish… it put a whole new perspective on how small of a world we live in.
• Go to the movies. I saw Transformers 3, and laughed through the entire movie, although I don’t think it was intended to be a comedy. Still, going to the movies was awesome.
• Eat Sushi. Delicious. No explanation needed.
• Spot Zebras from the Highway. Within twenty minutes of landing in South Africa. I’m not sure if that’s normal, but it was awesome. 
• Bird Watch. I’ve never really cared about birds, but the birds I’ve seen in Africa are incredible. I’ll wait until my new binoculars arrive for a more detailed post on my bird watching adventures.
• Use a Washing Machine. Never take for granted running water, or the fact that you don’t have to wash your underwear by hand.  
• Play with Lions. The picture really says it all. They liked my hair. 
• Visit the Apartheid Museum. A very enlightening experience. The museum is very dense—a lot of information, which I am still processing, but I’m really glad I went. I bought a copy of Nelson Mandela’s memoir A Long Walk to Freedom that I am now preparing to read.
• Feel incredibly lucky, and conflicted, about my privileged access to amazing health care. I’ve been joking about how lucky I am to have needed a root canal during my service: free trip to South Africa! But it’s a strange reality I am living where I see malnourished children everyday and offer them "counseling"; the United States Congress debates how many millions of Americans should have their health insurance benefits cut; and yet my relatively painless tooth allows me to travel thousands of mile to receive some of the best dental care of my life.

A Common History

Around the middle of the nineteenth century large groups of Europeans (mainly British, German, and Dutch) left their homes due to political and religious prosecution. They got on boats and set off for unknown lands. Upon arrival, the new settlers took land from the indigenous people and began farming. Years passed and the settlers, they settled. Their numbers grew, as did their crops, their conflicts with their new indigenous neighbors and their old European ones.The settlers were spread out across the vast teritory they had landed on and not well organized until they fought their former nation states in Europe for independence, and eventually won. As war victors, the settlers felt further entitled to all the land and pushed indigenous people out of their homes and away from the fertile lands, which were reserved only for those of European descent. Civil conflicts followed, including periods of violence and lots of repression until finally the Constitution was amended and “equality” was proclaimed.

Did you think I was talking about the United States? This is also part of South Africa's. (My apologies to history buffs for oversimplfying and generalizing here).

The New York Times recently published anarticle on one of the townships outside Johannesburg. Crime, drugs, and violence are a large part of everyday life in Diepsloot. For Americans, it's easy to criticize and comment on the troubles of less developed countries, but lets not forget our own. If you take out proper names, I think Diepsloot and Southeast Washington DC have more in common than they have differences. Just like the destitute rural villages across South Africa don’t sound all that different from a lot of the Native American reservations across the United States.

It’s true that most countries in Africa need a lot of help, more help than people in developed countries. But developed countries like the United States or Spain are far from perfect. So far my experiences have taught me, more than anything, the value and the power of community. As a volunteer I strive to integrate into “my community”, but the truth is I am a visitor. I am learning the skills to create and affect change, which I hope to do here, but more importantly to continue in my own community, wherever it may be.

Things I did not do in South Africa

• Get Medically Separated. In other words, I did not lose my job! I saw an amazing dentist who was incredibly friendly, helpful, and skilled. He was able to “re-do” my root canal without having to extract my tooth, allowing me to return to Rwanda. I am very, very lucky.
• Taste South Africa’s version of donuts. I did try the meat pies, which were delicious, but not quite the fried dough experience I was looking for. Next time.
• Go to KFC. I’m not sure why or how, but South Africa has an enormous number of KFC’s. I’m not really a huge fan in America, so I figured no use trying Africa.
• Travel. I had set high expectations for my trip. I wanted to visit PCVs in South Africa, see Cape Town, and go on safari. Unfortunately a medical evacuation is not quite a vacation, and the PCMO informed me overnight trips were not allowed.
• Mind Anonymity. In fact, I loved it. Being treated like a spectacle in Rwanda is exhausting and also dehumanizing. Walking down the street in South Africa without being stared at, grabbed at, hissed at, or yelled was truly amazing.
• Accept a Marriage Proposal. This is nothing new or unusual, except for the fact that after I refused to give my phone number, email address, or hand in marriage, the persistent stranger asked if he could look me up on Facebook. I think this would be weird even in the United States, but in South Africa it was just bizarre.
• Feel too cold. It is currently the “coldest” part of winter in South Africa, which felt like October in Ithaca. The fresh air and cool wind felt great.
• Enjoy the shopping malls. I did enjoy some of the items inside the malls that had been missing from my life for the last nine months (i.e., oreo cookies, movie theaters), but I did not like the feeling of sterile air and general indoor-ness. I take for granted how much time I spend outside in Rwanda, but it’s wonderful.
• Get Used to the Driving. In South Africa they drive on the left hand side of the road, like the British. There are also lots of roundabouts in Pretoria. Now many of you are already aware that I am pretty bad at crossing the street. Well, wrong-direction-roundabouts didn’t help much either.
• Miss a single breakfast at the Rose Guest House. The bed & breakfast where I stayed was wonderful, in great part due to the amazing staff. I’m not sure I would recommend the lodge to someone looking for an adventurous, backpacker experience, but if you want is some good rest and recovery time, the Rose Guest House certainly does the trick.

Another Evacuation

Disclaimer for anyone reading this blog and thinking about joining the Peace Corps: my experience does not in anyway reflect that of a “typical” volunteer.

Greetings from Pretoria, South Africa.

Those who know me well might remember a small incident a few years ago in Ithaca, New York where I slipped and fell in a gorge. Seven stitches, two fake teeth, a root canal, and several painkillers later, I thought it was over. Turns out I was wrong.

A couple weeks ago I noticed an inflammation above the tooth that had been severely damaged during the accident three years ago. When the PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Officer) in Rwanda first told me I needed a root canal, I thought I had won the PCV lottery.

As I hope you’ve gathered from reading this blog, medical care in most of Africa is lacking. PCV’s who need specialized medical attention during their service are evacuated to the nearest country where such services are available. For most volunteers in Africa, this means a free trip to South Africa. I remember learning about this during training in Niger, plotting with my fellow trainees about the best possible med-evac situation. Broken bone? Appendicitis? We agreed a root canal would probably be the most ideal.

Eight months later, I boarded the plane from Kigali to Johannesburg prepared for my second evacuation in less than six months. I was confident this one would be better than the last, how could it not?

Med Evac perks: playing with lion cubs

Arriving in Johannesburg was strangely similar to arriving in Casablanca. The cleanliness of the airport’s bathrooms, the wide and well paved roads, the telephone and electricity poles everywhere -- all served as signalers that I had entered a much more developed country. Everything seemed strangely unfamiliar and disorienting.

As the Regional PCMO looked over my file his brow wrinkled, “your case is rather complicated”. I laughed and explained my accident-prone ways that lead me to his office.

A couple minutes later, I was no longer laughing. Due to the complicated nature of my dental history, the chances of me needing a tooth extraction are rather high. Due to the complicated nature of tooth extractions, I cannot remain a Peace Corps Volunteer if this procedure is necessary.

So, this evacuation is turning out to be a lot like the last one. I am in limbo. The dentist here has redone the root canal, and now we’re waiting to see what happens. There is a chance I might have to go home, there is a chance I might not. I am being asked to remain flexible and patient. Things that are rather difficult to do when, for the second time in six months, I am unsure of what continent I’ll be on next week, or whether or not I will still have a job.

Nitkwa A-L-M-A

Many of your probably know that my dad writes a blog. Not too long ago, he wrote (actually Dad, you rambled) about his frustration with people always addressing each other on a first name basis. So, friends: when you see my father, please make sure you address him as Mr. Aldrich. Professor Aldrich or Dr Aldrich will also probably make his day.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my own first name recently. The one that you gave me Dad! Alma. It means soul in Spanish. (To the many sleazy guys in bars across the U.S. who have tried to use this bit of information as a pick up line: yes, I know what my own name means. No, I am not impressed by your limited Spanish speaking abilities). I like my name. Thanks Mama and Papa.

If you are American chances are you pronounce my name incorrectly. It’s not Ulma or Olma or Elma, it’s Alma—emphasis on the first A, like when you say “Ah ha!”, A-lma.

When I got to Niger, I was pleasantly surprised to hear that Nigeriens were able to pronounce my name correctly. For some reason this small phonetic detail was very comforting. During training, we were all given Nigerien names (mine was Maimouna), but once I got to my site I introduced myself to everyone as Alma; because that’s my name. Everyone’s ability to pronounce it properly, the way my parents do, made me feel immediately more at home.

Rwanda is a different story. There is no difference between the “l” and the “r” sound in Kinyarwanda. Furthermore, it’s extremely unusual to have two consonants together. (When asked about my morning runs, neighbors want to know if I went “es-po-ro”. Yes, I went sport). Introducing myself as Alma often makes people scratch their heads. A-RI-MA? AN-I-MAR? ANA? ANNE MARIE? Umuzungu!

Dad, I think you would be happy in Rwanda. Rwandans take name formalities beyond last names (which actually don’t exist here-- you have a Christian name and a Kinyarwanda name, no such thing as family name).

In Rwanda you address people by their title or status. For example, no one calls the Hospital Director in my town Bosco. We call him Director. Older people are addressed as umucecuru (old woman) or umusozi (old man) to show respect. Parents are addressed as Mama or Papa followed by the name of their oldest son (or daughter if they have no sons). When people call me umuzungu (white person) it’s not meant as a racial slur, it’s just what I am. The same way the driver is umushoferi and the storeowner is umucuruzi.

I struggle with this. Yes, I am an umuzungu, but I am not the same as every other umuzungu in Rwanda. I am Alma. I like addressing people by their names.This could be because while growing up in the United States, my first name was rather unusual, and a source of insecurity during my early years of high school. If this is the case, Dad, I will bill you for the psychotherapy later.

It is, however, much more likely that my preferences are generational. In this case, Dad, I’m afraid you are out of luck. For me (and I think this is an opinion held by many of my generation) the ability to remember your name, to identify you as an individual, is my way of showing respect.

Now, I am a Peace Corps Volunteer as well as my-American-father-and-Spanish-mother’s-daughter. I am aware of the importance of culture and respecting it. In Rwanda I will call Bosco Director and I will call my neighbor, Donatille, umucecuru. In the United States I will refer to people of my parents’ generation as Mr. or Ms blah-blah-blah. But everyone is free (and in Rwanda, encouraged) to call me Alma, especially if you can pronounce it correctly!

The Walk Home

Hosting visitors in Rwandan culture is an honor. When you have a guest, you offer him the very best seat in your house, the very best food and/or drink available, and, when it’s time for him to leave, you walk him home. I love this tradition for many reasons. Most importantly, because when I visit people among the many hills and valleys in my community I usually have no idea where I am so I appreciate the guidance back home. 

This custom can, however, create some confusion when you reach home and suddenly visitor is playing host and host visitor… and then we’re walking again in the other direction.  Last week I was party to such a predicament, when after walking my friend home (a thirty-five minute walk uphill) I was invited in to look at photos and take some lemons from the family tree. After the usual series of greetings to family members, neighbors, and curious children, my friend walked me back to our original starting point on the other side of the valley. No wonder Rwandans are so fit!