I want to take this blog post to highlight some of thepeople from my village who have been inspiring to me personally and to me represent the best of Rwanda.
EmertheEmerthe is in her mid-twenties and owns the house I live in.She is a genocide orphan yet somehow she still managed to become an infinitelywarm hearted person whose patience and kindness I so heavily depended on when Ifirst arrived at my site. Emerthe was born andraised here in Rwabicuma and is known and loved by everyone. She invited me todo everything with her and our other roommate, Clotilde. Through Emerthe Ibecame a part of the community.
I love Emerthe’s enthusiasm for life. Young women in Rwandaare traditionally supposed to be quiet and demure but Emerthe loves to jump inat community meetings and sing loudly at church. She was the ExecutiveSecretary of the cell office (our local village government office) for my firstyear here, although she has since been transferred to another cell. Last yearEmerthe represented our community at our GLOW (Girl’s Leading Our World) Campand she was so enthusiastic about the camp and excited for the campers from ourtown. Her loving enthusiasm and quiteconfidence make her a natural leader. I wish there were more people like her ingovernment all over the world.
The thing I will remember the most about Emerthe is how sheloves to laugh and people love to laugh with her. One of my greatest regretsleaving Rwanda is that I will miss Emerthe’s wedding which will take place inthe end of December but I hope to visit her and meet her children-to-be insome not too distant future.
Emerthe at a Memorial Ceremony in Traditional Dress
The Three Housemates! Clotilde, me, and Emerthe.VincentVincent is also an English teacher at G.S. Rwabicuma. Inaddition to teaching Vincent is a full time university student at the NationalUniversity in Butare where he studies journalism. Despite exhaustingand expensive travel between our school and his school, Vincent is consistentlycheerful, engaged, and professional. Vincent has a true knack for languages andloves speaking English and asking me about life in America. One of my favoritecross-cultural discussions with Vincent happened the other week as we werewalking back from a ceremony. He was asking me about tire shoes. Throughouteast Africa you can find these quite practical and often surprisinglyexpressive and attractive sandals with soles made from used tires. I thought wewere talking about these tire-soled shoes. He asked if I knew what these ‘tireshoes’ were and I told him I did. He asked me if they were difficult to use,how can you go so fast? I looked at him, puzzled, and said I guess you can gofast in them but it’s probably okay. He asked how you stop when you are goingso fast in your tire shoes, again puzzled, I told him you just stop. After a few more questions I realized he wastalking about roller skates! Shoes withactual tires!
In addition to Vincent’s responsibilities as a student and ateacher he volunteers his time once a week to lead our school’s anti-AIDSclub. I plan the lessons, we discussthem, and then Vincent teaches the lessons to the club in Kinyarwanda. This week we are hosting the first everNyanza region BE (Boys Excelling) Camp and Vincent will be one of our adultfacilitators. Vincent’s commitment tohis students, his own future, and new ideas is inspiring.
Vincent Helping Students at Anti-AIDS ClubMama GitokoMama Gitoko is perhaps the jolliest person I have ever met.We got along immediately. One of my first days in the village I was wonderingaround aimlessly as the population unabashedly gaped at my foreignness. Iremember so clearly walking past her house and greeting her as I was greetingeveryone, bracing myself for whatever awkward or bizarre response might follow,but she just laughed. Not a jeering laugh but a sweet laugh of pure delight atmy fumbling effort at Kinyarwanda. When everyone else found my foreignnessbizarre and rather frightening, Mama Gitoko thought it was hilarious and Iloved being around her. She loved when I would come to visit her, even when myKinyarwanda was awful and we had to resort to hand gestures and sometimes evenshadow puppets to communicate. As my Kinyarwanda improved she continued tospeak slowly and use simple vocabulary that she knows I can understand. We cantalk for over an hour even though she only speaks Kinyarwanda because shereally tries to meet me at my level. She is the only one in the world who knowsexactly how much Kinyarwanda I know. Over the last two years she has trulytaken on a motherly role, always giving me a snack of warm milk or porridgewhen I come to visit and fussing over my hair, how rough and dark my skin hasbecome, forcing me to eat because I’m getting much too thin, and alwayschastising me for not visiting enough. Mama Gitoko expects all of my guests tocome to her house and meet her.
Mama Gitoko’s joie devivre makes it sometimes hard to believe she has been through as much asshe has. Mama Gitoko was part of a hugesprawling family that owned most of land in the area before the genocide.During my first Genocide Memorial Week she took me to her house and pulled outa photo album and showed me family pictures from the seventies and eighties.Every single person in the photos, including both her parents, all of hersiblings, and her daughter’s father, was killed during the genocide. Not onlydid Mama Gitoko survive the genocide, she went on to serve as a judge at thelocal gacaca courts and had the strength to pardon those killers who werewilling to repent and promise the live a better life. Mama Gitoko’s one international trip was whenshe was brought to Kenya to teach people from other East African countriesabout the gacaca courts.
Mama Gitoko tells people she has two daughters, her naturalborn daughter, Gitoko, and her American daughter, Mackenzie. Mama Gitoko is afarmer and works as a gardener at the local government office. She has diligently saved her meager salary tobe able to send her daughter Gitoko to boarding school for upper secondaryschool, which she started this year. Every term Mama Gitoko asks me to look at her report card, which iswritten in English, to tell her how Gitoko did. Gitoko is doing wonderfully at school and her English has improved dramatically. While at school, Gitoko borrows someone’sphone every couple of weeks to call me and say hello. I can’t imagine my lifein Rwanda without these two women. In myeyes, Mama Gitoko and Gitoko embody the best in Rwanda. They have survived Rwanda’s darkest chapter,deeply scarred but resilient. They haveworked to bring the country back together and Mama Gitoko is committed tobuilding brighter future for her daughter and her country.
Mama Gitoko and I Greeting
Gitoko, me, and Mama Gitoko
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