The Reality of Ubuzima and HIV

Today was my first day of tutoring/homework club at Women in Action (otherwise known as Pastor Moureen’s) on my own. I have the equivalent of 3rd and 4th graders. It’s quite a challenge for me … so if you’re a praying person, please pray for that! I need to figure out how to teach English to kids who don’t speak English … really, to just teach them anything. This is not my gift, so I’ve been struggling quite a bit. Anyone have any thoughts or brilliant ideas?

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This afternoon was Ubuzima again. I think I’m starting to get the hang of the weaving. I have no idea what I’m making though. I just do what they show me until they take it away to fix it or show me something different. J I only wish I could talk to the women, to find out their stories or even just something as simple as how many children they have. But maybe that will come in time.

This was the last time the short-term team would see the ladies (& men) at Ubuzima so they went to the market in the morning and got everyone a bag of “goodies” – rice, beans, veggies & fruit. Mama Debra was there this time, too. She’s the leader of the ministry but has been gone the last couple times we’ve been there, I think because of the Pastors’ Training. At the end of the afternoon, she had some of the Ubuzima members come up and share testimonies. I think it might have been a special occasion because the short-term team was there.

A man came up first and was eager to share – he was a father with 6 kids, none of them with HIV, and was excited about how the Lord had blessed him. The next woman who shared is always so serious … but today as she told her story, the tears started flowing – but I think they were both sad and happy tears. She was a mother as well, and this time it was her husband that was HIV positive, not her. For 6 years. Praise the Lord! However, I wondered how many other mixed emotions might be going on. Praise that she was healthy, but turmoil because her husband was sick—and you could tell she loved him—and I wonder if there is hurt because her husband was potentially unfaithful … and then, has she been with her husband in all those years? What is that doing to her? Perhaps its not that he was unfaithful, but that’s usually how HIV is transmitted here. She was blessed as well to find Vivante Church, to find the community of support and love in her time of struggle and weakness. This was a common theme among everyone – the thankfulness for the support they had found in Vivante Church and in Ubuzima and how strong it was making them … helping them to persevere.

The next woman was one of the women who had come to help braid Natasha’s hair on Sunday. She was a single mother with 4 kids – she has HIV as well as all of her children. The other woman who braided Natasha’s hair, Alice, came late to the meeting – she had been at the doctor, was carrying what looked like x-rays, and looking very tired. Was a little harder to get her to smile today, it seemed.

The last person to share was a girl who was about 14 or 15. She has HIV. I think she said her father was still alive, but was sick with HIV. Her mother was gone. The tears started flowing with her as well. I could see the fear in her eyes. This timexI think the tears were more from the fear than from rejoicing, although she was rejoicing for how God had blessed her. It was comforting to think of this group being able to care for her and give her support and be mothers to her. Mama Debra stood beside her with her arms around her and told us how most of the women’s children in Ubuzima did have HIV. It was kinda numbing to think about the little ones we’ve seen every week being sick … especially this one with her “baby” on her back. This is the girl who came straight to me on our first day. I don’t know if she has HIV, but I’m thinking there’s a good chance after Mama Debra’s comments.

Emotions ... *&(*&#!

A view of Kigali ... everywhere you look





This morning was a tough one. Serge (Jen’s husband) gave his testimony about receiving his visa for Canada. He shared his frustrations with the waiting and constant negative answers he kept receiving. (Did I mention that he did receive his visa? He and Jen are now in Canada, and the interns are on our own!) His whole testimony was surrounding Psalm 46:10 – “Be still and know that I am God …” It really hit home for me. Be still and know that I am God. Just be still, Emily … and know that I am God. Its that simple. I heard God speaking directly to me. After church, as the girls (Natasha and Jocelyn) and I stepped outside of the guest house where we had been chatting with the short-term team and were about to head home, I just broke down. Well, as much as I would allow myself to. I don’t cry in front of people very often, so when I do it’s a big deal – and its an even bigger deal when I cry in front of people I don’t really know. Don’t get me wrong, I’m friends with my fellow interns, but I don’t feel like we’re at the point where we really, truly know each other. Does that make sense?

I guess its just that the homesickness and anxiety all came to a head and hit at once. I miss my community and comfort. I feel like I should say more, but that basically says it all. I miss my community and comfort. And … I’m ready to be emotionally stable again!

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Natasha had her hair braided by one of the women from Ubuzima today. It was quite interesting having two Rwandans in our house all afternoon who spoke no English! We had to call David, one of the ITeams volunteers who works with us a lot, to translate a couple times over the phone. What we thought was charades for water to wash with, was actually lotion/Vaseline to use for the braids. They were still here for dinner, so they got to experience a Western meal. Pasta with white sauce and green beans. I’d love to know what they thought, but I guess we’ll never know! :)Those strange muzungus (white people)!

Here's my fellow interns ... Jocelyn & Natasha

Communion in Rwanda!

We came back from Nyagatare on Saturday. Overall, it was a good few days. I have to say, I know more than I care to know about birth control now ... :)

One of my regrets for the weekend, though, was that I never sat in on the actual pastor’s training sessions. I have an idea what they were like based on the question-and-answer time we observed, but would have liked to see the actual pastor training in action. Friday night was the pastor’s “graduation.” Each time the pastors’ complete one of these trainings, they are given a certificate and sometimes a gift – this time it was a shirt and tie for the men, a katonge (wrap/skirt) for the women. A certificate is a big deal to them! They told us a story about one the of men, Innocent, who had completed a training session got pulled over by the police who were checking for proper papers from taxi/bus drivers. Innocent doesn’t have a Rwandan driver’s license (he’s from Burundi, I think) so he had no identification. He told the police he was employed with ITeams, they wanted proof, so he went home and got the certificate. Because it had his name on it with an official ITeams logo/seal, he was given no trouble!

Anyway, at the graduation ceremony, after they were given the certificate, we had communion. In preparation for actually receiving communion, we sang a couple songs. Not long after the singing began, I began to hear weeping. It was even more powerful to hear the weeping during the silence while we all ate and drank the bread and cup together. Put yourself there for a moment. Think about the silence and the sounds. And it wasn’t just a wimper here and there, it was weeping! It was a beautiful sound. One that I’ve never heard … and because of that, I was taken aback. Shouldn’t that be a sound we hear and make all the time during communion? When we think about the meaning behind it, the sacrifice that was made for us and the love surrounding it, shouldn’t it overwhelm us and bring us to tears?

Baby Steps

I put more things on my shelves in the closet tonight … and my bags are now in the other half of the closet. They still have things in them, so I haven’t unpacked completely, but I’m not living out of my suitcase anymore. This is a good sign people, means I’m starting to settle! I’ll let you know when I finally am all the way unpacked …

Pastors' Training

After Kindergarten, we rushed home to pack for Nyagatare. There’s a short-term team here from Canada and they are leading a Pastors Training in a small town called Nyagatare (Na-ga-tar-ey). They’re letting us tag along and see what its all about. The team is made up of 3 men, pastors who are doing the pastors training, and about 5 women who are doing other things like a women’s conference (for the pastor’s wives). They’re all over 50 so its nice to have some older people around.

Nyagatare is on the border to Uganda and Rwanda, so it took us a good 3 hours to get here. But it was such a beautiful ride! It was really nice to get out of Kigali for awhile and see something besides the city. Feels more like Africa. When they say Rwanda is the land of a thousand hills, they mean it! Seriously, there are hills EVERYWHERE. Even if you tried to find flat lands, you couldn’t. it was to see all the random things on the way – things like a large group of women doing their laundry in the river, and a group of farmers in the field, a bike here and there carrying 3 times its size in sticks or rice, goats everywhere, a school in the middle of nowhere, more hills, villages and mud huts, and then more of God’s beauty in the hills.

So the Pastors’ Training … basically there’s about 20-30 pastors all over the area that have committed to being a part of this pastoral training program for 3 years. They come twice a year for a week to Nyagatare to learn more about the Bible and leading their churches – kinda like an informal seminary. Most of these pastors have no formal training, they’ve never seen notes in a study Bible. So there’s lots of “holes” that are filled in these trainings. And a lot of the trainings can also cover how to behave as a Christian. For instance, Christian husbands respect their wives and don’t beat them. That’s common in this culture I guess. And to teach them their wives aren’t expected to wait on them all the time. Then, their wives come a few days later and receive their own programming. Not sure yet what that is, but I think its things like how to live as a pastors’ wife, etc. I know one of the topics tomorrow is on birth control. Because of the Catholic influence from the British (I think??), they have no concept of birth control. A lot of the times they have so many children, that its hard to care for them all. I think part of the concept of training the wives is to hope that they will take it back to others they know in the community.

Tonight after we got here (we came up with the women), we sat in on a question and answer period for the pastors. Its very informal, and allows them to ask questions about what they’ve been learning. It was very interesting … these guys had some hard questions, and very deep. You can tell they’ve been thinking about things and they want to learn and really understand.

Tomorrow, the “interns” will hang with the girls. I’m told there’s lots of singing before, so I’m excited about that. Finally, some real African singing! Woo hoo!

Kindergarten

This morning was Kindergarten at Women in Action. It went a little better than yesterday. I think because they were smaller and I wasn’t intimidated. And I knew where to start this time – at the beginning. Didn’t have to look at any notes, etc, just knew to start teaching them numbers. So yes, we tried to teach them numbers 1, 2, & 3 today. They’re 3-5 year olds so for some of the younger ones, it was pointless. But it was still cute.

We sang Hallelujah/Praise Ye the Lord, they started to catch on. Then we showed them pictures of 1, 2, & 3 and had them repeat it. We tried holding up our fingers to have them recognize 2 fingers, etc, and then held up pencils. Not sure they got it. They can repeat things till they’re blue in the face. Then we had them color bubble numbers ... tried to help them understand what they were coloring. Some of the little ones had never held a pencil/crayon before, so that was a new thing. But it was adorable to watch. Then we played a game – duck, duck, goose but with amazi, amazi, echupa (water, water, bottle). They loved it. Of course, that game is always a hit with kids. Then we went over the numbers again, this time giving them numbers to trace to try and write them. This actually worked really well. I think it helped them to make it more concrete in their minds, instead of just a picture in front of them. I would trace the number with them and then say it, trying to get them to recognize it. Some caught on, some didn’t.

Getting into the Schedule

Started HW club with kids from Women in Action. Little ones love to hang on you. Katia (katee-a) took a special liking to me. It was a struggle ... this does not come easy for me and is gonna be my biggest obstacle. I compared myself way too much to Natasha and Jocelyn, almost cried on the bus when Jocelyn asked me how I was. Augh!

Pastor Moureen (she runs Women in Action) said I was quiet and implied that Natasha and Jocelyn had done this before ... probably b/c they actually did things and talked and “assessed” the kids. Oh well. I feel like the child of the group! I've been surprised at how many people comment about how I'm too quiet. I guess they're used to loud Westerners.

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Ubuzima in the afternoon. The whole first half I just sat there. No one showed me anything. I didn't want to ask because sometimes they don't seem to want to show you - they're content doing their own thing. But that's okay - I definitely understand that. One lady tried to teach me, but I wasn’t catching on and she wasn’t amuzed by that. I even messed the knitting up b/c I did the wrong stitch. But she should not have left me on my own, right?! She quickly ran out of patience with me. So I continued to just sit and watch others around me. Felt kinda silly, but its not about me as a friend reminded me. At the same time, I knew that other ladies were just sitting, so I told myself it was okay. Finally, I went over to Jocelyn and watched her and talked a bit. Then a couple ladies “called” me over to show me how to weave a basket of some sort. Its kinda like braiding. They were MUCH more patient with me and had fun with me. Nancy was my teacher ... they kept teaching me Kinyarwandan but I had no idea what they were teaching me. I just kept repeating it back to them, we’d laugh and then do the same again. She even gave me a tree tomato – she started pulling them out of her purse and I was one of the lucky ones that got one. I could have sat there all day.

After Ubuzima, we went to Bright’s house for dinner – his mom made a traditional Rwandan meal. Bright is one of the volunteers who works with Ubuzima. Cassava leaves (cabbage, etc) that tasted like spinach, fried potatoes, pasta salad (with onions and green beans in it), maize/cassava stuff, some kind of meat, peas, rice. After dinner: chai tea (that was really more like warm milk and sugar) and bananas. His mom spoke no English, but loved to show pictures ... and take our pictures! She also said I eat too slow.

Took motorcycle taxi home – first ride on one. I was initially afraid of them, but it was so fun! The driver spoke very good English and we had a conversation on the way back.