Homemade cookies and ice cream

I’ve had another fabulous weekend of visiting other volunteers. This time I visited Cathy and Louise, some volunteers who have been here for 6 months and who live further East than me in a town called Kibungo. Kibungo seemed a really nice town. Not least because they have a bakery and a shop where you can buy Cadbury’s dairy milk (the quite strange South African variety but Cadburys nonetheless). In the evening we went out for dinner to the house of some American Peace Corps volunteers. They were very lovely and great people to talk to. They have almost completed their two year placements in Rwanda and will shortly be heading back to the states. It was really interesting to talk to people at the opposite end of their placements. I have this massive stretch of two years before me where I can’t imagine the end so it was interesting to get some perspective on two years and to hear about what they had done in that time.

The food was totally amazing. Our charming hostess had made middle Eastern food with flat bread followed by chocolate chip cookies and caramel ice cream! I honestly thought I’d died and gone to heaven. It was definitely the best food that I’ve had so far in Rwanda and inspired me to get a bit more creative with the cooking again.

Then I went to Kigali for a couple of meetings with the other TTC (Teacher training college) volunteers. We went for more African Chinese food and then stayed at this place run by nuns near the city centre. It is definitely the most religious place I’ve ever stayed. There was a kind of shrine to the pope in the reception area which featured a huge signed photograph. I’m not quite sure about why it was run by nuns  but I’m sure one day I will find out as its frequently used by vso by virtue of the fact it only costs four quid a night to stay there. Well I’m feeling pretty tired today so I think its time to give in and go to bed as I’m back in the classroom tomorrow.

Its not right but its ok...

Today was an exciting day. I finally moved into the TRC (Teacher's Resource Centre). There are still birds roosting in the corner and there is no furniture other than a couple of tables and a chair but I have the keys and it is my space. .. And now I’ve somehow got to make it into a super duper resource centre full of books, visual aids, games and child centred resources. It would be made easier if UNICEF got on with it and coughed up the cash so I could at least buy furniture but...its seems that the powers that be move slowly.

 In the meantime I’m making some storage units out of old cardboard boxes in true Blue Peter style, I’m quite proud of them actually. They look a bit like something I saw in IKEA once except that they are made out of cardboard. I think the TRC will soon look like a cardboard IKEA showroom. If only I could magic the cardboard into the fabulous IKEA Swedish meatballs...mmmm...I’m having carnivorous dreams again.  This is what larium combined with protein deficiency does to you. It makes you dream of meat. I know its weird. I just keep telling myself that its not right but its ok...surely there are weirder dreams that I could have?! Ok well maybe not, the only weirder dream I had was about the chicken, but that was brought on by fantasising about eggs so it was still a protein related episode. Well at least I've lost the cake weight. Can't weigh myself but looking trimmer for sure! 

Another achievement of the day was that I have managed to write a whole page and a half of French and sent my first ever French text message. My accent is terrible and my teacher is too polite to tell me that I’m murdering the language of romance. I have a feeling I’m learning a kind of African French too. It will be interesting to watch people’s faces when I next go to France...I’m looking forward to the reaction, attention seeker that I am ;-)

Too many tomatoes and an introduction to Nollywood

Well every day brings new challenges for me. My house guy had to leave early today which meant I had to brave the market myself for the first time since arriving. After psyching myself up and writing out a card with my Kinyarwanda numbers on it I ventured out. The thing is, I seem to have absolutely no concept of a kilo. I bought a kilo of tomatoes and Jesus, I will be eating them for at least a week. I don’t know why but I never thing of buying things by weight. Back in TESCOs I remember just grabbing the number I wanted and putting them into a plastic bag. Well here plastic bags are illegal for starters (yes, really!) and you actually have to ask someone for what you want in a language you don’t understand. So my house guy laughed when he saw how many I had and I have been busy trying to make passata. My kitchen now looks like the site of a chainsaw massacre but I have managed to get rid of a fair few.

I have also been introduced to the delights of Nollywood. Now I must admit I had no idea that Nigeria had such a big film industry until yesterday. Lagos is the centre of Nollywood, like the Los Angeles of Africa. One of the tutors brought in a Nollywood film to show the students called ‘against all odds’ and I couldn’t resist watching it. The films there are made for home viewing and apparently Nollywood churns out 200 new home watch movies a month, making it the second most prolific film industry after Bollywood (Hollywood actually comes third!). It definitely did make me laugh and I’m not sure it was in the right places. Africans like their drama so there was plenty of speeches about love and loss and strange priestesses. I learned that it is wrong to lust after a priestess because you and your family will die and that it is dangerous to be hot tempered. Good lessons to learn in life don’t you think!

The beauty is in the journey...

This weekend after eating African Chinese food and listening to 90’s throwback music in Kigali with Mark and Tammy, I visited Rachel and Catherine and snowball the chicken in their hilltop home in Kirambo. On the way out the heavens opened and I got soaked to the bone. The moto driver tried to play a game of ‘beat the rain’ which he lost and I now see why they sell weird double ponchos in Simba supermarket.  I have not stooped low enough to buy one yet, but only time will tell. We then went to the market where two umuzungus buying a kilo of potatoes was the day’s entertainment, we drew quite a crowd!  Allegedly the more umuzungus in one place, the more curiosity is aroused. One umuzungu attracts the attention of approximately 6-7 children, for two umuzungus its about 12-14 and for three you’re looking at being followed by approximately 20 children. Its like being the pied piper.

The following day I had my first real duvet morning since arriving in Rwanda. It rained for three hours straight so we stayed in bed...then the bed broke...oops! So we made a pillar out of bricks as reinforcement. It was like a kind of jenga construction. We were selected to do vso on our ‘practical problem solving’ ability after all. Rachel will have to sleep like a log for the rest of her vso days...Well luckily the weather did improve and we were able to visit ‘paradise’ bar for some fanta and sunshine and I was able to soak up the mountain air.

The way back to home was unfortunately eventful. The moto got a punctured tyre in the middle of nowhere. There were no houses or anything. The moto driver sped off and said he would be back in a minute, which I kind of knew wouldn’t happen. Nearly an hour later after being stared at by a huge gang of children for the whole time, a guy appears on a bike to tell me that the moto had ‘technical problems’ and no one seemed to know how I could get another one...At this point I must admit I was quite close to cracking. Fortunately a family drove by in a car and agreed to let me hitch a lift (a very rare occurrence!) so I got lucky.

 I wish I could say I enjoyed the rest of the journey home but...the bus I got was totally rammed and people kept pointing and saying ‘umuzungu!’ hahaha! ‘umuzungu!’ for the whole hour. Came close to cracking again but I managed to stare out the window and imagine myself lying on a white sandy beach with the waves lapping the shore. Calm thoughts Camilla, calm thoughts...But despite the journey I had a lovely a long weekend and I was looked after very well. Rachel actually made a cake outside using a charcoal stove which was incredibly exciting. It rose up and everything. It had that proper cakey texture, mmm.....

I am linguistically challenged

Today was tough in class. I definitely don’t think senior 4 got me. And before I knew it asseyez-vous and ecoutez bien (almost certainly spelt wrong)! had come forth from the dark recesses of my brain where the remains of G.C.S.E French lay buried underneath the rubble of too many degrees. The shock response that another language came through my lips was enough to get some sort of compliance. I feel at times like I’m back in my NQT year, when I felt like I was a subject on channel 4’s faking it show and one day a panel of ofsted inspectors would be brought in to try and out the fake.

 But I did discover the delights of using clapping patterns with them, African people seem to have rhythm in their blood and in two minutes they were already doing it better than me. I often hear some lovely singing going on around the college but as my voice is shockingly bad and these are teens rather than 5 year olds I’m not sure its the way forward! Maybe in a while I might start singing some Gill songs with them, we shall see.

One tutor who speaks good French and English has very kindly offered to give me French lessons which will make me feel a bit less embarrassed when people ask you ‘what languages do you speak?’ This is generally the time to look at my shoes and say umm a bit of French and a few words of Spanish...I have looked at my shoes a lot since arriving. It is the norm here to speak at least 3 languages, maybe 4. The Senior 4 language specialists learn French, Kiswahili, English and of course Kinyarwanda, clever kids. Hopefully I will absorb by osmosis some of the linguistic skills of the students and tutors while I’m here. It would be great to hold down a conversation in French, Kinyarwanda and Kiswahili by the time my two years are up!

Textbooks and chicken fantasies

Textbooks are quite new to me in my teaching career. The UK early years brigade would have had me hung, drawn and quartered if I allowed my reception or year one classes to work from them. But here I have come face to face with my arch enemy of the textbook. And maybe they are not so bad. I’ve just been reading one called ‘Elementary Science and Technology’ for P5 (11 year olds) and its quite good. It tells you how to make a rabbit out of clay and how to crochet a table mat. I love the instructions ‘1. Get some clay, 2. Make a rabbit’. My experience is that even asking children to make an egg cup out of clay produced some creations that made the gherkin building in London look sensible.

The section on the evils of drink made me laugh and I really don’t think it was supposed to. Yesterday when I asked a particularly lovely class about the qualities of a good teacher, they mentioned that a teacher should be ‘innocent’. Such a sweet thing to say and so far removed from reality back home. It just reminded me of a story in one of the trashy magazines I used to read in the UK about a secondary school personal and social ed. teacher who moonlighted as a stripper...where had the innocence gone?!   

My mid week hysteria has definitely begun to set in, I’m noticing a pattern that I go loopy on Wednesdays. I think I always did back in the UK as well but all the time alone with my thoughts has intensified it.  Last night after having a particularly successful omelette (I’ve now found eggs in the village!) I had a very vivid dream about keeping a chicken as a pet. I called her Vivien and she had a little pink tag around her foot.  I woke up really wanting to own a chicken. The problems would be a) I don’t know how to look after chickens, b) I go away at weekends and so I would have to employ a chicken sitter and c) I have a feeling they live longer than two years. This would create a problem when I finally leave because I would have to find someone who wanted an ancient chicken as a pet. So ces’t la vie, the chickens of Rwanda are safe!

An inspector calls

Well as if life couldn’t get any stranger for me at the moment, we had the Rwandese version of Ofsted here today! I’ve come to the conclusion that inspectors the world over give me the heebie jeebies. Its not their fault, I just find them scary. An inspector came to watch me teach as I knew they would as I stick out like a sore thumb...not quite sure what they made of my work (I don’t think I got graded) but they did take lots of photos! Coming face to face with inspectors left me feeling traumatised enough to eat my whole chocolate stash in one day. Needed a hug and so I went outside and little Noella from next door kindly obliged.

I’m going to be kind to myself this evening and watch a film, have a glass of Amarula cream and remember that I can only do what I can do. Change takes time and Rome wasn’t built in a day. Its all feeling a bit stressful this week, feeling a bit frazzled. On the plus point people in the village are starting to talk to me more and so are the tutors so feeling a bit more at ease in my environment, slowly but surely. Hopefully I’ll be able to stop by a supermarket in Kigali at the weekend and buy some more weird Kenyan Cadburys for the next emergency. For all you kind souls out there, its not quite hot enough to melt chocolate out here and British Cadbury’s really is the best! Email me and I’ll give you an address...hint, hint, hint!