Murabeho

Kinyarwanda is a difficult language.  I can just now begin to pick out a few words in a conversation, and can manage a dozen or so things that I would like to say.  The language is spiced with a bit of both French and English and my ear is more used to the sounds and meanings.  I've learned that there are any number of ways to greet people depending on the time of day, how well you know the person, and how long it's been since you last saw the person.  Goodbye is similarly complicated and now that I must say it, I understand just how complicated it is, not linguistically, but practically and emotionally.  Over the next few days I'll be saying "Murabeho" because that is the good-bye used when you won't be seeing a person for a while.

I'll tell you about a few of the people who make it hard to leave and who have touched me during my time here.

First of all, meet our house staff:  Chantal, Nelson, Sylvan and Patrice (I don't have a photo of Patrice, works for us a couple of days each week and is also a student at a university studying business)

Chantal has been our housekeeper, cook, shopper, and resident comedian.  She took care of us during our stay.  She is tremendously kind, caring and often came to work or stayed to work later when she didn't have to.   Chantal adores Nava and always threatens to keep her after we leave.   Chantal is studying English right now and one day, we hope to help her get a college degree and a new line of work.

Chantal and Nava

Chantal a little more pensive than usual

Nelson is one of our guards, our gardener and the hardest working individual I've ever met. He never seemed to know how to rest when he was at our house. He really doesn't speak English but we had fun trying to communicate in a gibberish mix of English and Kinyarwanda. The other night, Nelson, Nava and I stayed up late to watch the lunar eclipse together and he taught us the words for moon and stars in Kinyarwanda.

 

Nelson

Sylvan, Christine and Diana

Sylvan does the majority of our night guard work and he is a handyman fixing our plumbing and lighting problems. He lives in the house on the back of our compound (really right on top of us) with his wife Christine and his newborn baby Diana (the little guard). Diana was born during our stay and this photo was taken on the day of her christening and naming.

The little guard on duty

When we arrived in Kigali we were told by other expats that we would never survive without a car.  Well, we did.  I was lucky enough to have a driver from KHI who brought me to work and back every day.  This is Pepe; I had more conversations about more things with him than almost any other Rwandan.  He doesn't really speak English, I certainly can't say much more than good morning and how are you in Kinyarwanda, but we managed throughout the term with his and my limited French to communicate about life, politics, Rwanda, KHI, the genocide, music, sports - just about anything.  I still owe him a brochette and a beer so I'll be back to visit him one day soon!

Pepe

I was lucky enough to teach all 3 years of physiotherapy students at KHI, here are a few photos of the fantastic and hard-working physio students.

A great group of 3rd year students

4th year students working in the clinic with me

Vyvienne is a senior lecturer in physiotherapy at KHI.  She is an expat from Zimbabwe (Zim).  I worked very closely with her on a number of research projects and in the research methods/biostats module teaching.  Vyvienne has a great sense of humor and always gave me the inside scoop on all things KHI or Kigali.  I'm quite positive that Vyvienne and I will be collaborating for a few years to come and I'm hopeful she'll make a visit stateside to share her incredible knowledge and skills in the area of CBR.

Vyvienne

Elias had the role of Acting Head of Department (HOD) while I was at KHI. Elias is a therapist from Tanzania (T-Zed). He had an incredible number of administrative headaches on a daily basis that I was happy to have left behind when I started this sabbatical/Fulbright.  He is quick to remind me that starting at the end of June, his headaches in Kigali will be my headaches in Springfield.  Speaking of having those headaches, Manu, a therapist from India is Deputy HOD soon to be HOD.  I have great faith in Manu's ability to lead this department forward and wish him luck.  He is just back from presenting at a conference in Baltimore on ergonomic issues, his passion in physiotherapy.

Manu

Elias

My office-mates were Jean Baptiste and Gerard both of whom got their initial physiotherapy training at KHI some years back in the diploma program.  I'm still not sure how all three of us managed in the tight little space we called an office but they were always gracious to make space for me when I came to work.

Jean Baptiste

Gerard

Hey, who is that Muzungu guy? This is Joel, a recent DPT graduate from Arkansas who taught anatomy at KHI this past term and who is planning on starting a PhD program in the U.S. when he returns.

Joel

David

David is busy completing his PhD dissertation work while he is teaching at KHI.  He and I did some clinical supervision together and I gave him some Stata tutoring.  It doesn't show well here but David has a great smile and always brightened the day.

Maurice is also doing independent work toward a PhD, naturally when I consulted with him I spent my time encouraging him to consider multivariable approaches to his analysis.  We'll see where that goes.  Maurice is a great critical thinker and debater with strong and often valuable opinions about how the department should be run.

Maurice

Princy

Princy and Hetal are both from India.  Hetal is actually Manu's wife.  Hetal and Baptiste run the KHI Physiotherapy clinic.  Princy often assists with department managing issues such as assigning clinical sites and setting up class schedules.  I got to do clinical supervision at two different sites with Princy and Hetal.

Hetal

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Sadly I'm missing photos of a few more of my colleagues, Juvenal and Nuhu with whom I worked in the clinic and on some research projects.

Finally, meet the woman who actually brought me to Rwanda...Jeanne Kagwiza.  When I first inquired to KHI about doing a Fulbright it was Jeanne with whom I conversed back and forth over many months about the possibilities and needs.  On my first day at KHI she came into the room where I was being introduced and excitedly walked up to me hugging me and shaking my hand and hugging me again in her excitement that I had arrived.  Jeanne is the former HOD in physio at KHI.  She was gone for a good part of my time at KHI as she is in the final stages of her PhD dissertation work.  I did some consulting/advice giving for her about her dissertation and I'm quite sure that she and I will continue to work together though at a distance until I return here.

Jeanne

Who did I miss? Plenty of folks and to all of them, murakoze, asante sana, jambo and most importantly turongera - see you soon.

"Helping" the poor

A couple of days ago at breakfast Nava was talking about a classmate who was wandering around the school fair with a fistful of Rwandan Francs.  I asked her what is father does and she responded "he helps the poor."  Yikes, time for a short rant on the issue of aid and NGOs here in Rwanda.  NGOs are supposed to care about the most vulnerable population - the poor.

Patricia and I are amazed at the luxury in which many Muzungus live here.  They have huge mansions (with monthly rentals of $2000-$3500), drive large SUVs, fly to South Africa to shop, send their children to an expensive private school (so do we, ISK is the highest price school in Kigali, thanks Fulbright), take tennis lessons every day and live in a sheltered isolated expatriate community.  Some of these wealthy Muzungus are here working for private companies but a large majority are spending the money of the NGOs who are "helping" the poor.  Seeing their lives has certainly soured me on the ways in which NGOs spend their money.  Worse, Muzungus drive up housing, food and commodities prices in the areas in which they do their work, how can that help the poor?  As it currently appears now in Rwanda, I'm certainly not convinced the NGO model works.

Mercer tracks cost of living for expatriates around the world.  This year, the highest cost of living is in Luanda, Angola.  Surprised?  Why Luanda?  In an editorial on this finding that I read recently, the author noted that whenever the UN arrives en masse, the cost of living goes up and especially the cost of housing.  I would argue that these efforts at helping are more often hurting and I will think twice and examine the motivations, goals and financial reports of any NGO before I donate in the future.

Joburg

We gave Saadya the opportunity to take a weekend trip to a place that we could get to from Kigali on a non-stop flight.  He picked Johannesburg (Joburg, Jozi, Egoli), the largest city in South Africa and, he picked our itinerary for the 2 day tour.  First stop...Kigali airport where the national women's handball team from the Congo was also waiting for their flight back home after winning the IHF Africa challenge tournament held at the stadium this past week.  It was great to see them hanging out in the waiting room with their medals.

Congo National Womens' Handball Team captain with trophy

Ready to fly the friendly skies

We arrived late afternoon and were met by our tour guide and host, Janet from Ekala Guest House who drove us directly to our first stop, the Carlton Centre, a 50-story building that may actually be the tallest building in Africa.  From the top we got oriented to our surrounds and started to learn about Johannesburg and its history.  I was surprised to see what appeared to be multiple small hills that looked like landfills as I had not realized just how important gold mining is/was in the city.  The land dumps were dirt extracted during the gold mining process that are only now being cleaned and recycled with yet more gold extracted from the sand.  No surprise, mining is an environmental disaster ruining land and water supplies (they use cyanide in the process).  The Carlton Centre sits in downtown Joburg, an area that has been vacated by many businesses and residents due to high crime rates.  The building itself is now about 40 years old and it is showing signs of aging.  I could imagine it was once a "destination" back when it had an ice rink, movie theater and restaurants.  Instead it now houses some stores and empty office blocks.  After being on top of Africa we drove a bit more around Johannesburg and then returned to Ekala where we had our first of a few wonderful meals complete with fresh fruits from the farm. 

Soccer City!

Joburg Skyline, Carlton Centre is on far right

In the evening, Saadya and I watched "Invictus."  Saadya chose to watch it because his class at ISK was viewing it and he was pretty sure they would finish it while he was away.  Although it was a Hollywood depiction, I enjoyed watching the movie more than I thought I would - possibly the Joburg effect?

Sunday our itinerary included the Cradle of Humankind where we visited the Sterkfontein Caves and Maropeng.  This is the area that has an incredible wealth of paleontological finds and is the center of much archeological work.  It is called the cradle because many people believe it is the site from which humans originated.

In the Sterkfontein Caves we saw where the famous pre-human skull known as “Mrs. Ples”, and an almost complete hominid skeleton called “Little Foot”, dated 2.3 and 4.17 million years old respectively were found. 

Saadya deep in the earth looking for fossils

Statue of Robert Bloom and Mrs. Ples.  Supposedly, if you rub her head you are bestowed wisdom and if you rub his nose you get wealth.  Any guesses about what Saadya rubbed?  I of course went straight for the head.

Area of archeologic work at the caves

The Maropeng museum was a nice touch and we dined there at the massive Sunday buffet (yes, this was an eating tour) with views over the hills outside of Johannesburg.  Somewhat shocking to our eyes were the sight of fire (even right in the city) on the land.  It is winter in South Africa and the dry season so there are often fires burning.  At one point, we drove by a gas station with fire burning all around it and to our surprise, nobody was doing anything.

In the "Cradle"

Fires burning in and around Joburg

In the afternoon we went to the Apartheid Museum where we visited an exhibition about Mandela and were overwhelmed by the history and story of apartheid which, prior to going to the museum Saadya knew very little about.

Tickets to the museum are randomly stamped "white" or "non-white" with seperate entrances and displays

The museum is quite big and in 3 hours of time we barely made a dent but still felt overwhelmed.  The evening saw us sitting down to yet another film, this time "Gorillas in the Mist" which Saadya had never seen and I saw with new eyes.  We were not too surprised to find that our knowledge of the background for this film was much broader than before we lived in Rwanda.

Sunday, our last day on this quick jaunt we started the morning in Soweto not only seeing the township but visiting the sites and memorials that were related to the 1976 uprising.  As we were leaving our parking spot we had a fortuitous celebrity spotting as Hugh Masakela was pulling in to go teach at the studio upstairs.  Saadya, of course, said who?  No, HUGH!

After Soweto we went to the Standard Bank building to visit the old gold mine that was found when they were digging to erect the foundation and to see the exhibit of work by Peter Clarke at the art gallery.

Saadya at the gold mine entrance

Our final stop before the airport was a visit to Constitution Hill which houses the old fort, the constitutional court and the prison known as Number Four that housed Gandhi, Sisulu, Mandela and many others.  I've decided the next film on Saadya's list will be Gandhi and he is planning to read Mandela's autobiography which should keep him busy all summer. 

We returned to Kigali with a few treats for Nava's birthday and ready to prepare for June and the end of our journeys.

THE POSTSCRIPT
Every blog post has a backstory (you may recall I've titled my blog Mbwira ibindi which means 'tell me more') and this one is no exception.  In this case the backstory is twofold and related.  First, there is  the black/white divide that continues to this day, and to my eyes, pervades life in Joburg.  Neighborhoods don't appear to be very integrated and certainly there continue to be disparities in health, education, work and other aspects of life.  Second, there is the high crime rate and fear of crime that determines how many people and certainly how tourists live their lives around the city.  Mbwira ibindi