Game of Numbers

Since I have somehow become numb to the fact that I'm leaving here in exactly 14 days (no idea how that happened; refer to my post '39 Days' and you'd think I'd be huddled in the corner, not able to go to work at the thought), I'm going to write a less-emo blog post. I saw Ravi (previous intern) do this on one of his posts and thought 'Well, I'm not creative enough to come up with something that cool so I'll just copy that someday'. It's a good way to sum up a lot of shit with what were some of my favourite things in high school, but were soon tainted by university calculus: NUMBERS.

•  5 AM. This is the time I have become accustomed to waking up at, and MAN do I hope it continues upon my return to Canada. Something soothing about waking up when it is still dark out. And then no one can see me running, save for my skin so white that it glows in the dark.
 

• In Kigali city, there are 900,000 people. This 'big city' is extremely tranquil relative to Kampala, Uganda, where I'm pretty sure all of its 1.8 million people were on the same street as us when we were there for an hour. Claustrophobia at its finest.
 

• The number of times I thought I might die while whitewater rafting on the Nile: 1.

• 15 inches: The size of the wooden penis that I proudly watched the Level 4 BLS students properly put a condom on during a Pre- & Post-HIV test counseling training session last week. Oh, and it was black, not sure why that caught me by surprise. TIA.

• Last week I spent 7 hours putting up 195 photos on Facebook of this trip. Wish I could have that day of my life back since the pictures can't come even close to capturing my experience here.

• I haven't been in BC for Easter in 4 years, ah I cannot wait for that turkey.

•  The speed at which a Rwandese (read: my friends/co-workers) can type: about 13 Words per Minute. This is even slower than my dad, a feat I didn't think was possible. Oh well, I choose to lie (because let's face it, Dad can only type max 15 WPM) to see their astonishment when I say my dad types slower than them, so nta kibazo (no problem).

• It will have been almost 8 months since I've been in my hometown by the time I arrive in Nelson, the longest I've ever been away at one period of time.

• I will have been in Rwanda for 179 days of my life. This is couple days shy of 2 trimesters of a pregnancy, speaking of which....

• My sister and her fiance will be having a beautiful baby in August, which will be my 4th niece/nephew

• I have gained about 5 kilos since being here, for all you metrically-impaired people, that's about 11 lbs. Yep, I said it.

• The elevation difference between Kigali and Kamloops: 1068 meters. Thank God I am training for a fitness test taking place in Kamloops at 1416 meters.

• I have eaten vegetables 2 times in the past week, and meat only once. Not really sure what I've been eating, but can you say scurvy/protein deficiency?

• The number of times I have been waiting for transportation and a stranger has driven by to pick me up in the past few weeks: 3. How many times did I think twice about my safety? Zero.

• I am 13,898 kilometers from my house, which Wolfram-Alpha says is 0.35 times the earth's circumference. WA also says to travel that far it would take:

LORD I wish I was traveling by light in a vacuum, okay that's a little greedy
but is it too much to ask for to travel by the speed of sound?

• The obscene flight sched I have in the span of 3 weeks: Kigali-Addis Ababa, Addis-Heathrow, Heathrow-Halifax, Hali-Calgary, CGY-Kelowna, Kelowna-Van, Van-TO, TO-Halifax, Fredericton-TO, TO-Van). That makes TEN flights, 8 of which are between Feb 25th and March 1st. I take full responsibility for the equivalent carbon dioxide emissions of a small country.

• I have read 5 books in 6 months, something that I usually only have time for during the summers.

• The number of continents I am soooo grateful to have visited: 4. Someday I want to be able to say 7 (or 6, only the extremely hardcore go to Antarctica), but will find it difficult not to be pulled back again by the enthrallment of what is Africa.

• The number of people who have touched my life and heart here, mostly without them even knowing it: countless.
  

39 days...

This is what Caro just sent me in a text when I was enjoying my cabbage salad, alone, while doing some self-reflecting and simultaneously watching some Bollywood on TV, at the Shake and Stir restaurant today. Bad idea.

Why not rub salt in the wound a little more? Okay! So, C and I (at work with no internet, in other words not much to do ie no Facebook to be crept I mean uhhhh HIV education documents to be researched…) decided it would be a good idea to read Anthony and Claire’s (interns from 2010 and 2009, respectively) final blogs/final reports to the Coady, just for kicks. ‘Masochists’, C said after we finished this little activity. Too strong of an adjective? Not far off. Why on earth would two people, in already-delicate emotional states, read about the feelings that may or may not be coming for them in the near future, head-on, full force? I don’t know. Maybe we think it’s easier if we somehow prep ourselves in advance for this departure. I sincerely don’t think there is any way to prepare ourselves to be thrown back into Canadian reality though, what-with the StFX university scene, the wealth of Tim Hortons’ in Antigonish, the SNOW (!), the warm water, the running water in general, the lack of dirt-bikes as taxis, the lack of black people and the abundance of white people, among many, many other things, of course.

BUT it is far too soon to be speaking of such matters, am I right? If you think these thoughts are weird, check in when there’s only a week left of me being here and THEN we’ll see what CRAZY shit I start to write about.

Last week I saw history made. I watched as the U17 Rwandese football team beat tournament favourites-Egypt at the Confederation of African Football (CAF) U17 tourney, which earned them a spot in the semi-finals and as it happens, also to the country’s first ever representation at a FIFA World Cup which is going to be in Mexico in June. I watched the game at the stadium in our ‘hood’ of Nyamirambo, which is a much smaller, more intimate venue than Amahoro Stadium (which seats about 35,000 people and served as a refuge for as many as 12,000 people, mostly Tutsis, during the genocide). It was even closer to home because I watched the match with Emery, who was on the team in 2008 and then on the U20 team in 2009 (he’s 24 right now, you do the math…haha something isn’t right.), when in both tournaments, the teams missed making it to the World Cup by a single goal. I have experienced being THAT close countless times over the years, on every single Nelson/LVR team (sorry Keith and Mr. Simpson), probably at least once in every single tournament, except Revelstoke (wooo!), but never were the stakes this high.

After the team of ‘youngsters’ was done running around the field and jumping on the fences to thank the blue, yellow and green-clad fans, after all the vuvuzela-toting drunkards (due to Primus or excitement, still not sure) were making their way out of the stadium, spilling onto the streets of Nyamirambo, I said to Emery:
‘Okay, on y va?’ Let’s go?

‘Attends un peu.’ Wait a minute.
I only then looked over at him after hearing a tremble in his voice. His eyes were glossy. This was undoubtedly due to the pride that only a fellow football player could feel for his ‘little brothers’. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t get teary-eyed at the display of national pride before the match, which was the first time I had ever heard the national anthem, with everyone in the crowd around me belting out the words in Kinyarwanda. After the game, this is what I imagine it felt like in Vancouver/Montreal/any big Canadian city during the Olympics after Crosby scored the game winner in OT for the gold, only that was on a way bigger scale with much more booze involved. Too bad on that fateful February day in 2010, I was in the Mitsubishi in the middle of nowhere, Newfoundland, waiting for my brother Chad in Toronto and sister Sydney in Nelson to call me with the play-by-play, all the while Telus going in and out of service (go figure). Clearly I am thankful I didn’t miss out on the big deal this time. Not a feeling a washed-up football player like myself gets to experience very often.

Un fanatique fou.

Game time.

Speaking of being a washed-up football player, I decided to use my Nelson Youth Soccer connections to get me a bunch of jerseys, some cleats and balls, to bring to Rwanda to give to a team or two here. Julien Cormier was great enough to hook me up with all of this stuff, so here it came, in a huge duffle bag that even made it to Kigali after being ‘lost’ at London’s Heathrow Airport. So after Emery made a call (because everyone has EVERYONE’S cell phone number, somehow, in Rwanda, even mine..) last Wednesday, a group of about thirty young men were excited at the prospect that:
a) a muzungu showed up to their practice, willing to play,
b) she had a bunch of jerseys with her, and
c) she showed up with another muzungu and, even more importantly, a dude that plays on the national football team.
After a game with too-many players per side on a dirt field, them forcing me to take the game’s lone penalty kick (I missed.. ugh), and of course some laughs when one of the players threw his weight and elbows around, not knowing that it was the muzungu girl behind him challenging him for the ball, these boys had sweat in these jerseys so much that they had made them their own. Great success. They had a few laughs trying to figure out what ‘All Hit KBS’ meant, but no such trouble with the international Rotary symbol. Pretty cool that every so often at practice, some of these guys will be wearing a little piece of Nelson. Seems like just a tiny, miniscule thing I, thanks to Nelson Youth Soccer, could’ve done for this team from a country and a football community that has contributed so much to my experience in East Africa.

Quite muscular young men sporting these NYS jerseys

Spot the woman

Roster shot.

Me and the rival keeper

 Love L

Is this real life?

Doesn't feel like it.

Caro and I were just talking about how, being here, it feels like we have no responsibility which is not a typical feeling you get during everyday life in Canada. Even as a students, who are notorious for having no responsibility, especially in the bubble StFX had us in, there were meetings, deadlines, and endless readings that could have been (but weren't) done. There were always people relying and depending on you as the president or co-president of a society or club, and you couldn't mess that shit up. Here, though, we are living the life. Yes, there are things that need to be done at work, but in typical Rwandese fashion, we are not held accountable if they don't get done (they always do though, don't worry CIDA). Self motivation is a KEY quality to possess here.

Why does it feel like I have no responsibility? Well other than rent, there are no bills to pay. We just went on a 2 week vacation to the most stunning island I'll probably ever see in my life. I get to watch football whenever I want, live or at a bar on TV while enjoying a Primus. I can forget about work after I leave KHI for the day. I can go to bed at 9 PM and wake up at 5 AM without having any problems sleeping because there are not many worries to be had here. I can go dancing until 5 in the morning knowing that all I have to do the next day is go for a run and go to the market, or maybe study for the MCAT (ugh). We can go to countries such as Uganda and Burundi in a moment's notice. After these six months, I can just leave my job, be done with it, and never turn back.

Penda (Photo cred to Afrony/Ravi)

It isn't that easy though. The 'responsibility' lies in the fact that I have made relationships with people here that are irreplaceable. And that no matter how hard I try to forget how painful it will be leaving these people, I won't be able to forget. I have a 'responsibility' to keep in touch with these people that have changed my life, and in some shape or form I hopefully have changed theirs a little. Penda, one of my co-workers, almost brought me to tears at work the other day, which is a surprisingly hard thing to do. "You, Caroline, Anthony, Ravi, you guys come for such a short time. Only six months. I can never forget the times we share." It's not often that people outside of my family open up to me like that at home, one of the countless differences between Canadians and Rwandese.

Our moving 'hotel room'.

Sarah and I at sunset, thanks SarahENGLISH

New Years Eve! A lot of food and BYOB

Although our trip to Zanzibar was full of so many laughs, swimming in the Indian Ocean, severe skin burns from falling asleep in the sun (never again), Christmas cards and presents from home, being so hot at night it was difficult to sleep, sleeping in an 8-person dorm room for a week with the closest bathroom a 2 minute walk away, a 30-hour bus ride and a subsequent 3-hour plane ride (we couldn't hack the bus for a second time, being in a 100 degree angle-position for 30 hours except for a total of 20 minutes of standing is as unpleasant as it sounds. Maybe even more so.), eating Indian food for Christmas dinner, eating a ton of the best seafood you'll ever have for ridiculously low prices, ordering a meal from a restaurant in which the description read "schirr-fried beef with vegetables in a bum" (who WOULDN'T order that? I could never pass up schirr-fried meat, even if it wasn't served in a bum.), meeting some really cool Rastas, and so much more, I must say I was looking so forward to coming home to Kigali. While we were away, when people asked, and even when they didn't, we told them that Kigali doesn't have much to offer compared to what we've heard about other African cities.

Beach at Kendwa Rocks

Stonetown art. Every shop keeper says that he painted the art,
so why are all the paintings the same? LIES

The truth is when you get below the surface and see the unconditional hospitality these people have, I take all those comments back. It may not be the most lively city for travelers, but it isn't all about what, but more about WHO, is around you. It felt good to come back to the smell of eucalyptus, the public displays of affection between friends (same and opposite sex, alike), the children yelling Muzungu! Muzungu!, the strangers asking for your phone number every time you go in public, the language that we can understand twenty words in as opposed to our four words of Swahili (however it's true, asante sana (thank you very much) goes a long way) and of course the people at KHI and other people I have become close with.

Anyways. I'm getting all emo n' stuff because 7 weeks left is just not enough. I had possibly the best weekend I could have had. I learned to cook in the Rwandese way, got to spend time with the people I love, and got to watch some national team football. My mom gave me some great advice yesterday, saying that I have to enjoy everything while I'm here, and not get bogged down in the emotions of our imminent departure. That just wastes time. So, in light of her wise words, I'm off to go buy fabric to get African clothing made, and to play football with my keeper boyzzz.

Me and Nadege cooking (she made me wear this kanga (skirt), I think just
because it was funny and looked sooo out of place on this ginger)

I was SO much more inefficient than her. No peeler or cutting
board, what a novel idea!

Le produit finale.

Me and the fam pre-stuffing our faces.

Me, Sarah and Caro wearing our Rwandese clothing with the boys. Yes,
my friend Patrick is wearing a YES WE CAN T-shirt complete with giant
picture of a thumbs up from Obama and gold sparkles.

Love from across the pond,

Lauren

Zanzibar... Paradise.

I will elaborate more about my holidays when work quiets down a bit, but for now feast your eyes on these (for all of you computer illiterate folk, you can click on the pictures to make them bigger) :

Narrow Streets of Stonetown.

Kendwa Rocks, at the northern tip of Zanzibar Island

BARBEQUE DREAMLAND!!!!! Formally known as Forodhani Gardens until we rolled into Stonetown...

Celebrating NYE in sweaty-style. Me, Sarah and Caro (Caro's clearly being the jokester she is)

Kendwa and the Indian Ocean!

View from the restaurant at dusk

So clearly I recommend that ANYONE who has the chance to go to this place, GO. I would say that JUST because of the seafood itself, however, as you can see, there was a littleeee bit more than that to offer.

Hope everyone had a safe and happy New Year :) Thanks to everyone for keeping in touch during what was a strange (read: in a good way, just different) but unforgettable holiday season. So thankful for everything. Missing all of you and can't believe there are less than 2 months until I get back!?! Surreal is alls I can say.

Love L

PS Check out a couple of Ravi's (the intern who was here in Caroline's position before we got here) last blog posts. I share a lot of his sentiments but am nowhere near as articulate as him so I really enjoy reading them.
http://ravijaipaul.blogspot.com/2010/12/dreams-reality.html
http://ravijaipaul.blogspot.com/2011/01/it-begins-end.html

ELEPHANT INCOMING!

Trip to Akagera involved this little guy:

Joyeux Noël! ¡Feliz Navidad! Noheri Nziza! Sherehe ya Krismasi!

That means merry Christmas in French/Spanish/Kinyarwanda/Swahili, all languages that I attempt to speak...This may be my last post of 2010 (SO WEIRD saying that, time is juuust flying) because on Saturday I am heading sans-laptop to the mythical island of Zanzibar, which, by the way, I didn’t know was a real place until I came to East-Africa ha! I just thought it was a made-up name from that Tenacious D song…

Anyways, people are asking what Christmas is like in Rwanda. To tell you the truth, I have nooo idea. I keep asking Rwandese so that I can give you back home an answer, but all I have been able to gather is that
a) they go to church a lot if they are Christian
b) they hang out with their family
c) they know what Santa is, but he’s a white dude that doesn’t come to Africa
d) there are no Christmas trees or stockings or presents or turkey and only lights on a few of the round-abouts in town.

So. It's quite a bit different than Christmas at home, where I still believe in Santa (hehe) and people ask me 'what I want' every year, and there are HUGE turkey dinners and I decorate my house for hours on end before the annual Christmas Sweater Party (have fun at it this year you hooligans, hope Shayla's fam is ready for it!!). It's this time of year when the girls of 29 Highland watch the Holiday Yule Log on TV for the last time before heading home after exams:

Merry Christmas Reeb, Jose, Ewin, Kimbo and Alex: ours was definitely NOT this sophisticated
with Blu-Ray haha but this is as close as we'll get...

It's also a time when I would read 'Twas the Night Before Christmas on Christmas Eve, then try to wake my family up on Christmas Day at 6 AM in order to watch the Grinch (cartoon version, obviously), open stockings and presents and then eat eggs benedict before heading out to the Miller's. YUMMM.

Obviously it was pretty strange for me yesterday when I was heading home from a Safari in Akagera National Park (which was unbelievable, pictures and video of an elephant chasing our Land Cruiser soon to come...giraffes, impalas and hippos, oh my!) and I was listening to my favourite tunes about chestnuts roasting, sleigh bells, and White Christmases from Bing, NSync, Sarah McLachlan, Sinatra and Mr. King Cole. No matter how many times I watch Love Actually, or the Holiday, it doesn't feel like Christmas at all. I think it's the combination of lack of snow, the lack of access to a piano so I can play hours of Christmas tunes, lack of a warm fireplace to cuddle up to with a mug of hot choc and cookies, and the fact that my roommate is as into Christmas as Scrooge was. Except unlike Scrooge, Caroline will not have a change of heart and become Christmasy. She is lucky that she embodies what Christmas technically is all about, being kind-hearted and how she appreciates the company of family and friends during the season, or else I'd have to move out HAHA. Even though I don't have any of these things, I'm not feeling homesick, because virtually nothing here reminds me of Christmas at home. It seems like this year, it might be just like any other day.

Anyways, this doesn't mean that it will be any more inferior of a Christmas than one at home, it will just be very, very different. December in Rwanda is changing my perspective about what aspects of Christmas are most important to me. Presents are not one of those things anymore, unless it is presents in the form of food...tee hee.

So what do I want for Christmas? Even when my parents offered to send me stuff from home, I just asked for typical food from home, turkey and all the fixings. Clearly this didn't happen haha. But some cards and a couple of gifts did manage their way here with C's mom (THANKS FAMILY, LOVE YOU!). But really, all I want is for people to send me pictures or descriptions in words of all of the glorious food and baking during the holiday season. And even if you can't do that, all I want is for everyone to be safe and enjoy the time with your loved ones. And to enjoy a couple of rum and eggnogs on my behalf. And shred some powder up at WH2O while you're at it, please.

So although I will be missing home and the Christmas spirit, I am starting to dread my departure date of February 25^th. Molly (from Sask) just left today and Reeb is leaving next Monday. I am getting a little preview as to what it will be like when I have to leave, and it's not looking pretty. It's a strange feeling, just up and leaving these relationships you've formed with people, especially since you don't know if you'll ever see them again.

C, S and I will be heading out on a 30+ hour bus ride to Dar es Salaam on Saturday, and will soon after be enjoying the white-sandy beaches, seafood and drinks in Zanzibar (where it currently 'feels like' 37 degrees with the humidity). Not bad for a Christmas holiday, I must say.

Well, 2010 was full of unexpected things and people, and I am so excited to see what 2011 brings (hopefully not the end of the world on Dec 31^st..).  So wherever Christmas takes you, I hope that you all enjoy it and think about what it is really all about for you! And that you have a Happy New Year :)

And in the good words of my main man Santa Claus:
"Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night!"

Much Love,
L

PS Here's one of my favourites: //www.youtube.com/watch?v=tuTWA6SBupY

Happy World AIDS Day!

Here is a piece I wrote for my local newspapers, ENJOY!

November was a month that had me traveling around the beautiful country of Rwanda, hiking up volcanoes in Volcanoes National Park and tracking a family of silverback mountain gorillas. These touristy activities are the opportunity of a lifetime that often only the most fortunate people have the chance to do. Anyone visiting Rwanda from the Western world no doubt can look forward to these experiences, and I guarantee that some people reading this have even had the pleasure of doing them or maybe know someone who has. While I share in the awe-inspired feelings after seeing a lake carved out by a once-active volcano as well as a family of sixteen endangered primates, I would like to acknowledge a facet of Rwanda that I have witnessed that tourists who have visited East Africa, or Rwanda in particular, may not have had the privilege of seeing. In light of Wednesday, December 1^st being the twenty-second annual World AIDS Day, I would like to speak about HIV/AIDS, a subject very dear to my heart.

Common misconceptions of the virus in Canada:

“HIV/AIDS is only a problem in Africa, so I don’t need to worry about it here.”

“People with HIV look sick and I am scared to touch them because I might get it.”

“Only homosexual men get HIV.”

My own HIV/AIDS education came about when I was sixteen. One of my high school teachers at LVR was very progressive with her approach to educating us about the social impacts of the virus, bringing in locals in association with ANKORS who were HIV positive to talk about the virus with these impressionable students, most of whom would never have had any sort of contact with a person with HIV. When studying biology at St. Francis Xavier University, I learned in depth about the science behind the virus, however the most important lessons came through my involvement with a student society, Xtending Hope. This society’s aim was to raise awareness on campus of the HIV/AIDS pandemic in Sub-Saharan Africa, and through this I witnessed both the passion to be informed and the apathy towards the virus of Canadian post-secondary students. I quickly realized that although students were empathetic towards the situation in Africa, they did not make the connection between the virus in Africa and the virus in North America. It was as if there was no realization that viruses do not discriminate between certain groups of people, they can infect in any geographical setting and people are all susceptible to them. This was apparent during our ‘Know Your Status’ campaign held at StFX where it was a struggle to implement anonymous HIV testing on our school’s grounds partly because of its Catholic roots. After we were finally given the go ahead to make testing available, only seven students were tested, one of which was myself. Although this was a huge step for our society, and that meant that there were seven opportunities for HIV/AIDS education and prevention of potentially spreading the disease, the turnout was a bit disheartening given the thorough advertising we did.

Looking back on my secondary education in Nelson, I cannot recall learning about the virus in the most important context: the prevention of transmission. I remember in Career and Personal Planning class in Trafalgar learning about safe sex, condom use, and STIs but not about HIV in particular. It was as if since 0.3% of the population has the virus, it was not really worth educating about. I beg to differ.

Now that I am in East Africa, the area of the world that has been hit hardest by HIV, consequently I was expecting the level of knowledge to be much greater than that of Canada. Needless to say, I was mind-boggled to hear the following questions:

“Well white people can’t get AIDS, can they?”

“People have access to an HIV vaccine in the Western world, don’t they?”

 “I heard if I have sex with a virgin, I will not get the virus?”

One can see the parallels between the misconceptions about HIV/AIDS in Canada and those here in Rwanda. These are not questions from street people who have never been educated. They come from casual conversation with some of my university-educated Rwandese friends. Unfortunate really, that in a place where HIV is ten times more prevalent than in Canada, the simplest knowledge of prevention and transmission is absent. Being in Rwanda has brought me closer to the virus, but only slightly. I now have a few friends who are HIV positive, something that I don’t have in Canada. The campaigns here advertising condom use and safer sex practices are inspiring, as are the number of NGOs whose sole purpose is to educate youth and the general population in order to combat the virus. But then again, you still have people asking questions such as the ones I spoke of above. This lack of knowledge is by no means a problem only in Rwanda, but all over the world. 

How can people be so ignorant and misinformed about HIV/AIDS? Easy. Just think about how ‘taboo’ the subject of sex is, and even more so the subject of risky sexual behaviours which lead to the spread of STIs and HIV. This creates stigma surrounding the virus, which is so influential that people do not want to talk about it, thus preventing education about HIV and subsequent attempts to fight the pandemic. I have heard first hand accounts of people attending churches in Africa where preachers, aside from condemning condom use, say that HIV/AIDS can be cured by praying to God. In the Western world as we heard last week, only now, after almost thirty years since the formal discovery of the virus, is the Pope endorsing the use of condoms to prevent the spread of HIV. No wonder HIV is still widely misunderstood.

I have only delved into the sex-related aspects of the virus, which is leaving out a whole other side of infection involving intravenous drug-users, mother to child transmission, and more. The combination of my attendance at this past summer’s International AIDS Conference in Vienna, Austria, on behalf of AIDS Free World (an American advocacy organization co-founded by Canada’s own Stephen Lewis) and my recent research into the education of youth about HIV/AIDS/safer sex practices leads me to wonder how many people back home really know their HIV status, or have even considered being tested. The UNAIDS report released on November 23^rd, saying that the spread of the global HIV epidemic is at a standstill, is somewhat deceptive. There are still issues surrounding funding and access to treatment, indicating that there is still a long way to go. The simplest way to combat the disease is to start at home. So I ask you all to question your own HIV/AIDS and safer sex practices education, and that of your children. On December 1^st, World AIDS Day, I challenge you to ask yourself, do YOU know your status?