I really do wish I had a thousand Rwandan franc note for every time I’m asked if I have a boyfriend. Things get really interesting when they ask his name (I say Ro-ee, and they look at me confused). I realize that this comes from a place of genuine curiosity; everyone here approaches me as I walk to and from the dining hall, to and from classes at the school, asking me how I am, how my day is going, how I like Rwanda, and if I have a boyfriend. That was the favorite question from my students today during my first day at the village school.
My morning started around 6 when my alarm sounded and I angrily rolled over. I then realized time was of the essence; I had to be at the school, on the other side of the village (about a fifteen minute walk) by 7 to meet the teachers and find the classrooms where I would be working. My first class was IT with a volunteer named Mike. Some of the kids are extremely proficient with computers; they have email and Facebook accounts, they can navigate programs and they understand how the computer works, for the most part. Others, however, have never seen a mouse or a keyboard. This makes for an interesting class, given the huge mix of level and skill in the same room (there are about 30 students per class).
Next, I had French, which was unbelievable. I taught with Vincent, a Rwandan teacher whose French has almost no African accent (most of the students speak French with heavy accents or with great difficulty, so I had some trouble understanding them). He’s advanced his students quite quickly; they are conjugating verbs, making sentences and speaking relatively well. Today he divided them into groups to have small debates, giving them topics like “do you think men and women are equal” and “should children be punished.” My group was saddled with the question of gender equality, and one boy piped up immediately that women are only in the kitchen and in the home. Every girl sitting in our circle began to verbally attack him (in Kinyarwanda, not in French, so I had no prayer of understanding). He then looked very frightened (girls outnumber boys in the village; 60% of the village kids are female, which mirrors the Rwandan population). As it turns out, he wasn’t sure how to say “before” or “a long time ago,” and then add that women WERE in the kitchen and in the home. When I explained to him how to make his sentence say what he wanted, he rephrased it and everyone clapped. Later, one boy asked me if I came from France, and how I speak English so well. I told him he’s very kind, but no, I’m American and French is not my first language.
This afternoon I taught English with a teacher named Aimable (which means “likeable” in French). He is much more than likeable; I LOVE him. Every time he asks a student a question and they answer, he says something to the effect of “And may God bless you!” “You are an angel. So smart!” “Yes, yes, very good. Now moving on!” He likes to scream and jump around quite a lot, and he is always reminding his students to work on “communicative English! Always communicative English!” Today he gave them all a short passage to read about, conveniently, American culture (very stereotypical things, like eating hamburgers, being rude and blasting loud music. I was then asked if all these things really happen in America, and I told them in all honesty, unfortunately, yes. They were appalled by this. And also that women in America wear shorts. They think that is completely unacceptable). After they completed the passage and asked me how accurate it actually is, the questions then became about me. Where I’m from, what I like to do, if I have a boyfriend (naturally), how to write in Hebrew, what I want to do when I’m older (they were shocked to learn I’m 19… someone guessed I was 25). When I asked them some of the same questions, I learned that many of them want to be doctors and go to university in America. These students have amazing dreams and are very future-minded. Also, now, they want to visit Israel because they want to understand where I’ve been living. When I told them that by the time they come to Israel I will be back in America, they said, “That is okay. We will come to America too! And we can see you!”
My final class of the day was another French lesson, but the teacher never showed. So, one of the other Year Course volunteers (my roommate Talya, actually) and I taught the class. We began with verb charts and conjugations, speaking and creating sentences, and then making vocabulary lists of words they knew in only English or French and then translating them, using them to make up scenarios. I noticed that almost all notebooks were open and pens were scribbling for the entire fifty minutes. They must have written down every other word I said.
With about five minutes left of class, the lights went out and it began to pour rain. Everyone scrambled out of class and ran down the hill towards the dining hall, where (shock) rice and beans were waiting. Today we were also having pineapple, which is grown in the village and is some of the most delicious fruit I’ve ever tasted. I have now had the afternoon, since about 3:00, to myself. Luckily, our running water came back so I was able to take a (very cold) shower and now I am updating all of you.
Tomorrow is Voting Day, so there is no school (I will be teaching Chemistry on Friday mornings) but we will continue work on the storage facility. According to one of the volunteers, Voting Day in Rwanda is held in town centers where the candidates stand in a central location and those who want to vote for them stand behind them. Since most of Rwanda cannot read or write, no one would be able to fill out a ballot, so instead, this system is used. I really wish I could go into a local village and watch!
I need a nap, some water and soon, dinner. More tomorrow!
Love,
Elana
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