The Key to Happiness.

One of the things that I learn--over and over again--from the refugees with whom I am fortunate enough to work in Rwanda is how much happiness can be found in the smallest things.

The man with the huge smile in this photo is the guard at the Health Center in Gihembe Camp, and he has been in that job for the three years that I have been working in that camp. He always greets me with a big smile and a thumbs up, his only ways of communicating as he is unable to speak.

Last year I gave the IGP team key rings from The Grand Hand Gallery, with red leather fobs embossed with the gallery's logo, a drawing of a hand. This seemed especially appropriate for a program that encourages people to do what they can to help themselves.

When I arrived back in Gihembe a couple of weeks ago I learned that the guard has wanted one of these key rings ever since he saw them last year, and who better to have one than the man with all of the keys?

So here we are, moments after I gave him not one but two key rings, one that clips to his belt and the other for his pocket. I don't know which of us is happier.

Teachable Moments.

We have many such moments here in our IGP trainings, but one in particular stood out to me today during our accounting training in Gihembe Camp.

This is a complex training, and one for which we try to invite only those refugees who know how to read and write. However, from time to time there will be someone without literacy skills who is so eager to learn that we will accept them into the class. In that case one of the Refugee Assistants will sit with that person, to make sure they understand the material to help them to take notes.

The woman that you see on the right in this photo is one such eager student and standing next to her is Aimee, one of our Assistants. Aimee did such a wonderful job of bolstering this woman’s confidence that she was willing to come to the front of the room and write her answers to the problem of “where are Joseph’s goats?” on the flip chart in front of the whole class.

And her answer was correct.

Working here is not easy, but moments like these make it all worthwhile.

Bag Ladies.

You really can’t imagine how rewarding it is to get these photos in which nearly everyone is smiling—or perhaps hiding shyly behind one of the bags that she has made.

This week we finished up our work in Nyabiheke Camp by meeting with the groups that are making these colorful nylon bags. We looked at all of the bags that they had made and talked about the quality, color selection and designs, all part of assisting the groups with improving the market for their work.

The bag that I am holding is a gift to me from these women. You’ll see me carrying it proudly this summer and if you want one of these beauties you know whom to call!

Yesterday I submitted our work plan for the final three weeks of my stay. It is hard for me to believe that three weeks from right now I will be in the air en route from Amsterdam to lovely summery Minnesota.

For the next two weeks, though, I’ll be in cold and rainy Gihembe Camp and will keep you posted from there.

What's New at Nyabiheke?

Here are just a few examples of what is new with the Income Generation Program in Nyabiheke Camp...


A public phone...to call friends and family.


A small boutique where Chantal sells everything from bar soap to beignets.


A fun and friendly hair salon.


And last but not least, our wonderful new IGP center. Thank you, ARC!

Off of the grid.

This week we will be heading out to Nyabiheke Camp, ARC’s newest—and smallest—camp, and also the most remote. Last year when I was there I had difficulty checking e-mail or getting a signal for my mobile phone and much of the time we were without electricity even in the house.

Now, thanks to a great deal of effort on the part of ARC Rwanda, things have improved. There is even wireless internet access available in a small building in the camp, but it requires a special type of modem that is not Mac compatible. So, I am planning to leave my little PowerBook behind in Kigali. I may have a chance to check e-mail using an ARC computer but won't be posting to my blog again until next weekend when I return to the big city to greet Carol Pavlish on her arrival from the United States.

Have a good week!

La famille de Charlotte.

This seems to be the year for family photos.

I took this one yesterday, on my last day in Kiziba Camp.

This is the family of Charlotte—the well-dressed woman on the right—who is one of leaders of our IGP Committee and who has volunteered a lot of her time to assist her fellow refugees with starting their businesses.

Charlotte also runs a sewing business in the camp as part of an association of about 20 tailors. They make clothing to order for the other refugees, and the impact of their work is visible throughout the camp. Instead of wearing cast-offs from America (which, by the way, are not donated, but sold for a profit here in Africa), many of the refugees in Kiziba Camp are now wearing outfits like the ones Charlotte is wearing in this photo. The clothes are made from local fabrics, using local labor, which makes them both less expensive and more appropriate for the people who wear them.

When Charlotte asked me to take this photo of her family she explained that it was their gift to me, to thank me for all that ARC has done for the refugees in Kiziba Camp and for the IGP associations.

Merci, Charlotte, c’est un cadeau extraordinaire.

The Road to Kiziba Camp.

Those of you who have been here remember the road to Kiziba Camp. Twelve kilometers of rocks, dust and bone jarring ruts that take their toll on vehicles and passengers alike.

I am happy to report that this road is no more. Thanks to a large-scale infrastructure project that will eventually facilitate the transport of natural gas by truck from Lake Kivu to an electrical power generating station high in the mountains, the road has been completely rebuilt by a Chinese construction team. It is now a smooth ribbon of graded gravel surface cut through the rock of the green hills that rise above Kibuye town and lovely Lake Kivu, wide enough for two vehicles to pass. Of course there is no guard rail and with a better road comes faster driving but still, this is an amazing improvement that shortens the trip to the camp significantly and makes it possible for us to reach the camp even on the rainiest of days.

Tomorrow I will be traveling the road to Kiziba Camp for the last time on this journey to Rwanda. I will be sad to say goodbye to my friends in the camp, and as always, I will share with them my wishes for peace in their country and a safe return to their homes and villages. I hope with all my heart that this will be the last time that I will see them here, and that the next time I come to Rwanda this will no longer be the road to Kiziba Camp.

Meet the ARC Rwanda IGP Team!

Yesterday in Kigali the ARC Rwanda IGP team made a presentation about our work to the ARC Camp Managers, the Country Director and the Director of Finance and Administration. We had a wonderful time and of course concluded with a group photo.



In the front row you see Jean-Luc, Letitia, Madina, Devotte and Anon.

With me in the back row are Leah, Yaya, Bernard, Top, Anita, Kebe, Louise and Jennifer.

Thanks to all for your hard work and dedication. You are the best.

Family Photos.

Here are some family photos from Kiziba Refugee Camp, Rwanda. Thousands of families like this one live in the camp—and have lived here for years--unable to return to their homes in Congo because it is not safe to do so.

Thanks to the work of the American Refugee Committee, the United Nations and other organizations these families live in relative safety in the camp, with access to health care, clean water, sanitary facilities, schools and income generating activities. But what they really want is to return home—to their country, their villages, their land—and to raise their families in peace.

Take a look at the pictures and see what is familiar. A dad with his children, a mother with her baby, the whole family together in what for them is the front yard.





Now take another look and see what may not be so familiar. The way in which the family is dressed, the color of their skin, the green Rwandan hills, the laundry hung out to dry, the roofs of the refugee houses in the background.

Put these family photos next to some of your own and ask yourself, what is it, really, that makes us the same and what makes us different? Which matters more? Could this be my family? And if it were, what would we do? Where would we go? What is our future? Would anyone help us?

Kiziba Classroom.

To those of you who have seen my photos from previous trips to Rwanda, the classroom in Kiziba Camp may look familiar. In fact, much about it does remain the same--the wooden benches, the colorful clothing, the posters on the walls.

But there is also something that has changed, more difficult to see if you are not here yet very evident to me. The IGP groups that are attending our trainings are more confident, more engaged and more enthusiastic than ever. Their eyes are brighter, they look healthier and better groomed, and they are eager to talk about all of the ways in which the Income Generation Program has helped them, their families and their community.

Here are some photos from our workshop today—their first time playing the Marketing Mix Game. Anitha, our IGP Coordinator, led the class, assisted by Titia, one of our Refugee Assistants. Leah and I observed, listened and enjoyed. It was wonderful.

Bittersweet.

The news in the camps is often sad.

Today in Kiziba Camp there was a funeral for one of the members of our Income Generation Program and as we drove out of the camp we passed a nearly endless stream of mourners returning from the cemetery.

How sad to die without being able to return to one’s homeland, and yet, how affirming to see that even in this relatively isolated place where life is so difficult people still take the time to mourn those whom they have lost.

But sometimes the news is good.

Today I learned that my friend Dancille along with her whole family has been resettled to Australia. They left Kiziba Camp in December. Many, many refugees apply for such “reinstallations” as they are called but very few are given the opportunity to go. The lucky ones are often chosen based on their ability to contribute in their new home countries, by virtue of education, skills, leadership and language ability.

Dancille has all of those things. Some of you may remember her from these photos, taken in 2004, when we first met. I told you her story then, the wife of a high school principal in Congo, gracious and intelligent and warm, who fled with her family after the death of her own parents and raised six children in the camp. She also became a leader in the camp community and a great advocate and example for our program.




Dancille, I will miss you, but I am overjoyed to hear of your safe departure for a better life. May you find peace and happiness and some measure of recompense for all that you lost back in Congo.

Bon voyage.

Training of Trainers.

This is a technical term that does not begin to describe what takes place in our workshop when I hand the pen to our IGP Coordinators—Anitha, Theophile and Louise—and have them become the teachers instead of the students.

The room comes to life, chairs are gathered round, there is discussion and intensity and laughter.

Here are some photos of our group, teaching, learning, thinking, collaborating.

I am so proud of all of them and so privileged to be their colleague.

Bonne arrivée!

This is the greeting that I have heard over again today, my first day of work here in the Kigali office of the American Refugee Committee. The greeting is always accompanied by the warm smiles and embraces that I have come to love in this part of the world.

Arriving back in Rwanda feels to me very much like coming home and it is wonderful to be here. Kigali continues to modernize and improve and looks really nothing like what most people might imagine in an African country so recently at war. The streets are well tended, there are many new sidewalks, and the boulevards are filled with green grass and flowering trees. Thanks in part to a new law prohibiting the use of plastic shopping bags there is no litter to speak of, and the monthly community cleanup days have kept the whole population engaged in improving the appearance of their city.

I have started my work with a five-day workshop in Kigali with my wonderful ARC Rwanda IGP team. I also have the great good fortune of having a full-time assistant, a young American woman named Leah Elliott. She has already added a lot of energy to our work and seems excited about being part of the Income Generation Program.

No photos as yet, but will try to post some while I have a relatively speedy internet connection here in Kigali. I’ll be off to Kibuye on the shores of beautiful Lake Kivu next week.

Louise

Why I Do This.

“Sometime during my second visit,” Seamus said, “ I realized I’d mislaid something of myself here during my first visit, and I had to return for it. Instead of retrieving it and leaving immediately, I’ve stayed. It’s possible that some of us cannot help losing ourselves in the sorrow of other people’s stories.” ---Nuruddin Farah, “Links”.

These words from a contemporary Somali novelist leapt from the page when I read them, and to me they explain a great deal about why I keep going back to Rwanda. The faces that you see here tell more compelling stories than I could ever write.

Thanks to Linda Cullen for her incredible photographic work.

Dear Joy

Our dearest Joy, we will miss you so much. You took such good care of me in Kigali with your food, laughter, trips to Musa's salon, insights into the latest Africa Magic melodrama. We are sad that you had to leave us so soon and wish you great peace and happiness in your new home. May you find comfort and your own "joy" in the heart of a very good man.

Love,

Louise

Time to go...

Come awake, come alive
Common sense we survive
Then hey, hey, down the road we go
You might learn something
You never know
But anyway you’ve got to go.

--Paul Simon, “Look At That”


It’s almost time to go, but not without saying thanks…



…to Dr. Ann Kao for this wonderful photo of the ARC Rwanda team taken after a celebratory lunch at the Car Wash Restaurant in Kigali.

… to Barry Wheeler, ARC Rwanda Country Director, for his patience, kindness, mentoring and friendship.

…to the Camp Managers who received me so graciously in their homes and supported our work in their camps.

…to Christine Tchenah for taking time away from her business, home and family to teach invaluable new skills to our refugee clients.

…to the IGP Coordinators—Anitha, Louise and Theophile—for their hard work and dedication to improving the most vulnerable of lives.

…to the rest of ARC Rwanda staff for all that they do every day to make our work here possible.

…to my family and friends for encouraging me to be here.

…and to everyone who has contributed to this work with their thoughts, prayers, time and money. You truly are making a difference.

Looking Smart.

When our new groups at Kiziba Camp arrived at the office this week to receive their first grants, I noticed that many of them were exceptionally well dressed.

This could be surprising, since the clients for our Income Generation Program are among the poorest and most vulnerable of the camp population.

But Anitha explained to me that in Congolese culture it is very important to “look smart” for an occasion such as this, to show as well as to command respect. It is so important in fact that one might borrow or even rent suitable clothing.

Although these refugees came to the office to collect money, I think you will agree that the looks on their faces as they were leaving were priceless.

Good Company.

My son Steven arrived in Rwanda last Thursday for a ten-day visit, and as you can imagine this has lifted my spirits tremendously.

We spent the Genocide Memorial Weekend visiting sites in Kigali and elsewhere so that he could get a feel for the country and what has happened to its people.

Today we will head to the field. Two days in Nyabiheke Camp followed by two days in Gihembe, and back to Kigali on Friday.

These will also be my final visits to these camps for this trip, just a quick check in to know that things are running smoothly with our little program and to give Steven a look at all of the work that we have been doing.

I’m leaving the laptop behind on this field trip, so will be in touch when we return to Kigali. See you soon.

Why Are These Women Laughing?

At the end of today’s marketing workshop for the groups involved in making these colorful bags out of nylon thread, I asked the women whether some of them would be willing to participate in a role playing exercise to practice their selling skills.

Someone had told me that in this culture this technique would not work.

As you can see, they were wrong.

The Cruelest Month.

It is April.

This is Rwanda.

T.S. Eliot wrote “The Wasteland” in 1922.

How could he have known?

“April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain…

“What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust…

“Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongst the rock…

“Who is the third who walks always beside you?
When I count, there are only you and I together
But when I look ahead up the white road
There is always another one walking beside you
Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
I do not know whether a man or a woman
—But who is that on the other side of you?
What is that sound high in the air
Murmur of maternal lamentation
Who are those hooded hordes swarming
Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth
Ringed by the flat horizon only
What is the city over the mountains
Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air
Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
Vienna London
Unreal

“In this decayed hole among the mountains
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel
There is the empty chapel, only the wind's home.
It has no windows, and the door swings,
Dry bones can harm no one.
Only a cock stood on the rooftree
Co co rico co co rico
In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
Bringing rain…”