Muzungu!

‘Muzungu! Muzungu!’ is a cry that we have become used to in Rwanda. Translated literally, the term means ‘One who turns in circles with their head looking at the sky’, which is not awfully flattering. However, there is a certain endearing quality to the way in which we are greeted with the shout by every passing child, who will see us, laugh at us, and wave.

On Thursday 15th, we visited a passion fruit plantation about an hour’s drive from Rwamagana. The road was bumpy, and we drove slowly, meaning that the children who saw the car had plenty of time to identify the UK volunteers as ‘Muzungu!’ and gleefully shout after us. On the way to the plantation, we saw more of the beautiful Rwandan countryside, and also passed by the house where President Paul Kagama lives (the area is easily identified as one his haunts by the way in which the road is lit by streetlights for miles around, in a way deeply incongruous to the surrounding parts).

At the plantation, we helped to pick passion fruits. The plantation is in its early days –the Self-Help Group that cares for it is relatively young- and so it was therefore not very large. Despite this, there was still a yield whose size surprised some of us, and picking the fruit was both satisfying and interesting.

The team picking passion fruits

 Once all the ripe fruit had been picked, we helped to spread bundles of long grass around the roots of the passion fruit vines, so that when rain falls the water will be caught and made available to the roots rather than running away and being wasted. 

Lucy preparing to spread dried grass over the vines' roots

After the work on the plantation was finished, we gave short talks on the life cycle of the plant and on the necessity of faith; the Self-Help Group members spoke afterwards to Ingrid, saying how encouraged they were by our visit, and learning of this was immensely encouraging to us also.

Giving talks at the end of the passion fruit picking

These are the passion fruits that we picked (many of them were not yet ripe). Just before we left, they gave us a big bag of fruits -that's what the brown bag on the right is for- and I can say with confidence that there has never been a better collection of passion fruit on this earth.

Us with the Self-Help Group, shortly before we left: this is a typically-sized Self-Help Group (they range in size from fifteen to twenty)

The chance to go to the fields was of more than usual significance for us, even considering that we were excited to be on our first visit thus far during our time in Rwamagana. The day before, we had visited the house of a member of the community that Lucy had become friends with when she was with the previous team; seeing the difficulties that she and her family faced was very motivating, and we were determined to find a way to make the same sort of impact that previous teams had had. The challenges encountered within the local communities are, in most cases, certainly grave: they are, however, beyond doubt surmountable. Lucy’s previous team had made a large difference to the life of this same member of the community with the construction of a wooden drying stand at her house. This is a very simple expediency, but still capable of making a palpable impact, and it is this sort of efficient innovation that we are looking for in order to make the type of long-term, sustainable effect that we hope for.

We returned from the plantation and went straight to a celebration of the graduation of the acting headmaster of the Centre for Champions. It was a happy but lengthy affair, with a great many speeches, and the day was tiring.

On Friday, the ICS team had an in-house learning session on the nature and presence of injustice in the world during the morning; in the afternoon, Jordon, Sam and Patrick took part in the monthly football match at the Center for Champions. We had been scheduled to play against the staff of another local charity, but they didn’t turn up, so it ended up being a competitive staff v. students match (with us on the staff team; we won 5-3, as is right and proper).

Football Action Shot: I'm actually in this photo (spot the small blonde speck wearing a dress as a shirt). Also look out for Patrick (scorer of the fifth goal), who bizarrely wore a bright red cold-weather skintight shirt, despite the scorching heat. He seemed to manage OK, though, and also (along with all of the Rwandans) coped capably with the strange lack of oxygen in the air

On Sunday morning, we visited a church towards the outskirts of Rwamagana; Ingrid goes to the Kigali branch of the same. This allowed the UK contingent to better come to grasp the nature of African churches, and continued the trend –observed the previous Sunday- of the local churches’ prioritisation of noise levels. The full-bodied sound of the congregation was ably supplemented by the might of the sound system, resulting in a volume probably not experienced by an Englishman since the Blitz was in full swing. Most churches are in the Song business; this one, however, veered from the beaten track and took its services to the Wall of Sound production industry. The songs, when subjected to this treatment, all sounded much the same: the pounding of the drums merged powerfully with the vocal prowess of the choir, and the aural cataclysm was punctuated only by the frequent and insistent shrills of a man with a pink whistle. This whistle was blown with an enthusiastic and large-lunged force, as though used with the intention of giving any migratory bats a terminal migraine. In addition, the service was an unexpectedly sizable four hours long, and many of us (extrapolating from my own feeling) left this feeling rather worse for wear. We were, however, up by a Fanta; there isn’t space here to detail the local attitude towards Fanta, and the subject will have to wait for another day.

Monday came, and was highly productive and informative. We dealt, in short order, with the cataloguing of the school library: the previous team had done the vast majority of the work, and we were quickly able to polish off the last shelves. Throughout the day, though, we befitted from the new idea of questionnaires, asking the partner organisation’s (AEE’s) project supervisors for specific advice on how we can best help them. This gave us a good amount of information, and several useful ideas.

Yesterday –that is, Tuesday 20^th-  we visited a nearby banana plantation. The plantation was only planted a matter of months ago, and the banana trees were still very small. These were the same bananas that the previous team –also under the leadership of Lucy- had planted in October, and it was great to see the long-term impact that previous ICS units had had.

This is a photo from the plantation in October: pretty much empty- certainly not a banana tree in sight.

And then we have the field now: the banana trees aren't breaking any records for size yet, but the difference made is visible.

 Upon arriving, the first thing we did was to seize up our hoes and help the Self-Help group members to finish the fence that they had already begun planting. They had apparently all been working since six that morning (we arrived at roughly nine), but we would never have guessed it- they were absolute dynamos with hoe in hand. They were the Ferraris and Porsches of the hoeing world, by comparison with which we were a beaten-up Ford Escort which, frankly, has no business whatsoever passing its MOT. 

Hoeing the ditch into which the branches would be planted

The fence that we built was of a simple but ingenious design. A small ditch would be dug, into which would be put the ends of a branch from a durable, rubbery plant of unknown name; the trees then grow in the freshly cut up earth, twining together and creating a very effective barrier against cows, which are seemingly the greatest mammalian threat to banana plants. 

Jordon planting a branch. It's just a stripling now, but it'll be a strapping young fence in no time

Before the fence had been completed, we helped to hoe a large pile of manure onto the banana plantation (it had previously been outside the fence, and needed to be inside, and available for use, before the fence was closed). This was pretty exhausting stuff, and again the Self-Help Group members showed most of us up despite their (often) considerably more advanced age. 

Spreading the manure pile over the field

Once all physical effort had been concluded, we delivered talks on nutrition and, following on from that theme, on the Biblical idea that ‘man does not live by bread alone’.

Ingrid, giving a talk on nutrition at the banana plantation. This was a full Cluster Level Association (made up of several Self-Help Groups), and this photo doesn't do justice to the number of people- roughly fifty, plus a good two dozen (at least) children. It's also worth noting the peculiar qualities of the eyes of the man in blue (with the hoe), which left gimlets standing for sheer piercing-ness.

That evening, we were introduced to the tricky and controversial topic of Love in Rwanda. For starters, the Kinyarwandan word for ‘I love’ and ‘I like’ –‘ndaguknda’- is the same. One would imagine that this would lead to all sorts of difficulties (the classic high-school film line, ‘Do you like me? ‘Like you? I think I love you!’ would, of course, be impossible), but it doesn’t, for the simple reason that (at least according to the In-Country Volunteers) nobody uses it. Declaring love, whether within a family or in a romantic context, is taboo. For the younger generation, any desire to say ‘I love’ or ‘I like’ is satisfied by a switch to English or French, both of which languages are apparently recognised as being insincere. ‘Ndagukunda’ is binding and serious, and is only used at times when nothing else will do. 

Such as –one would think- marriage proposals. Not so fast! In order to avoid the use of this loathed word, your standard marriage proposal in Rwanda runs something like ‘So, I’ve booked the church hall for this time next year. Do you think you’ll be able to find a dress by then?’ To which the woman’s response is –we’re informed- ‘I’ll tell you tomorrow’ or even, somewhat more nerve-rackingly for the man, ‘I’ll tell you in a week’. The marriage ceremony is long, and also involves a chap described to us as 'the man speaking on behalf of the cow', whose sole office in the proceeding is to moo. Once in marriage, ‘I love you’ is still never said, let alone in a family to children or to parents- the idea brought our ICV girls to fits of laughter. It’s very easy, as  a UK volunteer, to forget about the cultural differences between the UK and Rwanda –or even, as the girls were surprised to learn today when advised against wearing shorts on field visits, between the capital Kigali and the more rural areas- but they are very definitely there. So, that was all very interesting.

Thanks to all for your prayers and encouragement- it does make a difference! Please do continue!

PS- This blog post would have gone up on Wednesday, but due to internet problems, it's had to wait till now. Sorry.

The Bananas Are Picked: Week 1, The Arrival in Rwanda

So, we are here! In Rwamagana! More about that later.


The UK component of Green Bananas arrived in Rwanda on the night of the 5th January, at roughly 8 o'clock in the evening, having got up at some ungodly time that morning. Nearly everyone was extremely tired, but the excitement of landing in Kigali helped to rub away the sleep. It was, after the plane, almost stiflingly hot. Kigali, we would later find out, is rather humid; Rwamagana, away to the east with cloud cover and a friendly breeze, is quite a lot less moist, even if the heat is still several degrees (to put it mildly) north of standard UK temperatures.

The sunset over Kigali. The sun sets absurdly fast in Rwanda; it happens in a matter of minutes, and if you turn your back for a moment it'll be dark by the time you turn round again

Having been declared free from ebola, and having navigated Kigali border control, we made our way to the baggage collection, where there was an incongruous Christmas tree looking as though it knew that it shouldn't be there. We found our bags, and travelled to the Moucecore guesthouse, which would be our lodgings until Friday. Thus began the formidably named In-Country Orientation, replete with complex lessons in the basics of the Kinyarwanda language. Here's a smattering of our knowledge (i.e.., everything we know):

Muraho- Hello. Of limited use, because every Rwandan knows how to say 'hello', and says it before we get a chance to display our linguistic skills.

Amakuru- How are you. Good vocab.

Nitwa- My name is… Pronounced 'nyet-qua'.

Angarhe- How much does this cost. I learnt it for one sketch during Orientation, and so far have not found a use for it. I shall endeavour to wrangle it into a conversation at some point.

Simbizi- I don't know. Absolutely invaluable.

We quickly learnt to put great store by Rwandan food. Miniature bananas (a good deal sweeter than normal), chapati (everyone's favourite food), and, last but very far from least, the legendary African Tea, a spicy medley of hot milky goodness. The last team left us a note describing it as 'a taste like clouds and pillowcases', which, if anything, somewhat undersells it. That, of course, is not to mention the fruit, of which there is an overflowing abundance (the vast majority of which is green), including huge amounts of sweet pineapple and the passion fruit (marakuja), which is a tricky thing to eat.

A cluster of miniature bananas

The Orientation passed by quickly, in a blur of new information and new faces. One thing that stood out, however, was the Wednesday trip to the National Genocide Memorial. It was -it is a cliched term, but the truest we can think of- a truly humbling experience, and one which opened our eyes to what Rwanda has suffered. It also, though, made even more apparent the enormous distance that the country has come, in such an incredibly short space of time: the Rwanda at the end of the conflict was barely a country at all (two-thirds of the population (!) had been displaced, and effective government on any reasonable scale was a dream), and it is now a united nation on a steady upward trajectory.

The Flame of Hope at the Memorial, which is lit from April 7th to July 4th, in memory of the time in which the Genocide took place

Another, more pleasant, event came with the introduction of the In-Country Volunteers on the second day of the Orientation, completing the Rwamagana Green Bananas. Here's a photo of the full team:

So from left to right, we have Jordon (with an O), Lucy (the team leader, who was also here for the last cycle), Cynthia, Anaise, Ingrid (the principal opposition to the idea of a team pet), Sam, Patrick, and Jade.

We came to Rwamagana at 10 o'clock on Friday morning. Theoretically. One of the things we realised very quickly is that African time differs wildly from European time in a way totally unrelated to time-zones: 10 o'clock, for instance, actually means about 11:30, and 'the bus will collect us at nine' could also, by a Rwandan, be translated as 'I'll swing by around 10:15'.

Anyway, the drive was beautiful. Rwandan countryside has a green lushness enough to make the UK turn green with envy, if it wasn't for the fact that the lack of sun makes it very difficult for anything to be a genuine shade of green. Trees here are a blaze of verdant chlorophyll, and this brightness, coupled with the fact that 'The Land of the Thousand Hills' is well-named, made for some very satisfactory scene-watching.

A photo from the drive to Rwamagana, from Kigali: this patch of countryside is slightly less verdant than normal

To resume, we came to Rwamagana at 11:30, and were introduced to our house (very good; always cool), to Cristophe, who cooks for us (a legend among men), and to Innocent, who guards the house and is apparently both a good singer and excellent traditional dancer, although he is rather bashful and we haven't seen this yet. Rwamagana is a friendly and rural town of about 20,000 people, an hour east of Kigali, and not far from the Akagera National Park. To familiarise ourselves with the town, we had a game of photo-hunt organised by Lucy, finding such local landmarks as the enigmatic Yellow Shop (in a town in which at least 90% of all buildings are painted yellow), and the 'Jesus is the Head of this Household' Shop.

 The House in Rwamagana, Home of the Green Banana Team

One of the two Rwamagana monkeys on the wall of the house; its introduction to the team as mascot or pet was comprehensively vetoed by Ingrid, a self-professed hater of all animals (with the sole exception of the dove)

On Sunday morning we went to English service at the Restoration Church; even though we more than doubled the tiny congregation, the choir on the stage were still producing enough decibels to make a sizeable jet develop self-esteem issues. In the afternoon, to get a flavour of the different churches in the town, we went to the international service at the local ADEPR church.

Then on Monday we got down to business. We visited the AEE Rwamagana headquarters, the offices of the partner charity with which all our work is going to be done, and were told extensively by the various heads of projects the details of what their work entails. AEE does a fantastic amount of work, with huge results. The two primary areas in which we shall be working alongside them, however, shall be in coordinating with the Self-Help Groups, and in working at the Centre for Champions. 
The Self-Help Groups consist of people -usually women- in difficult circumstances, and AEE guides them through a number of steps. First, the women (around 15-20 in each group) are encouraged to put aside a little money (approximately ten pence a month, in UK terms) and accumulate it in a communal pot. After a while, the money is invested in a profit-turning enterprise; this may consist of buying a communal pig, or buying goods to sell at the market. Groups of SHGs form Cluster Level Associations, which organise beneficial activities for the whole collection of SHGs, including nurseries -allowing children to be looked after during the day, making their mothers more free- and healthcare. The Cluster Level Associations then form a Federation, which allows better representation of the conglomerate. 

The scheme has been incredibly successful: the lives of those who once struggled to buy a pig between them have been transformed, in very few years, to the extent that they now have access to medicines, a cow and pig each, kitchen gardens, and access to schooling for their children. The schooling sector is the second area in which we shall be assisting AEE. The charity runs a school of over four hundred pupils (divided into approximately three hundred vocational students, and about 120 catch-up students), providing children between the ages of 12 and 17 who have previously not had access to schooling with the chance to gain an education. Because of the lateness of the hour for many students, the course, which would normally take place over seven years, is here condensed to just three. 

The view of the valley from the Centre for Champions, with the school pitch in the foreground (the pitch, incidentally, on which the locally based First Division football team practise- they have a loyal following in the town. Sunrise's following, however, is dwarfed when compared to the number of Rwandan fans of foreign teams, with Barcelona and Arsenal coming foremost)

After the schooling, pupils are given the chance to learn a vocation -such as welding, tailoring, or hairdressing- allowing them to set up their own business in the town and earn money. The school has been doing absolutely fantastic work -life-changing- and it will be a joy to slot in and provide whatever we can (in all probability, English lessons and one-off sessions on health and sanitation).

Well, that was a very long blog post for the first one. Once we've got the hang of this, I'm sure it'll be a lot snappier. Any prayers are, of course, greatly appreciated.

-The Green Bananas (ICS Rwamagana) Team