Sarah Epplin
Three hopes.
Every Peace Corps Volunteerencounters social differences that rock to their core. Many of my fellow femalevolunteers comment on difficult conversations and situations they are involvedin due to their sex. All of us try to put a positive spin on them, out of thehope that a few words or an action will put a new idea into the minds of ourneighbors, friends, and coworkers at site. Planting a seed, you could say. Iwill tell the stories of three difficult conversations I’ve had and the hopesthat follow them.
During the first three monthsin Rwanda, I lived with a host family. I lived with a mom, dad, two sisters (11and 17), and a brother (12). I won’t go into details, but toward the end of mystay, my host brother did something to me that was disrespectful and wrong. Iwas told that for his punishment, he would be beaten and taken to the church togive his confession. I told the family that I didn’t want him to be beaten. Iwanted to talk with him. I sat in the sitting room with my Kinyarwandadictionary in my lap. When he came into the room, he knelt on the floor (thisis typical punishment as someone in Rwanda is giving you a “talking to”). Itold him that I wanted to know his reason for disrespecting me. He said, “Satanis evil.” I told him that wasn’t his reason – that he must understand he hashis own mind and brain. Over and over again, his only response was “Satan isevil.” That, to me, was not acceptable. So I told him how I felt. I had livedwith them for nearly three months. I tried my best to me a good Rwandan – todress like a Rwandan because I wanted to respect the culture, to speak inKinyarwanda, and so on. And then he decides to make his own decision thataffects me, that disrespects me. I told him that it wasn’t okay and that “Satanis evil” is not his reason, that his own mind made the decision. I ended thescolding when he started to cry. I noticed, then, the look on Deanne’s face.She was my 11 year old host sister. She was polite and did everything she wastold. She was the most loyal and sweet girl I’d ever met. But the look on herface after I’d just scolded her brother was priceless. She looked as though awhole new world had been opened up. That she learned she could speak her mindand say how she felt. I’ve never regreted scolding her brother out of the hopethat she’ll always stand up for herself and ask for the reasons.
During my first few weeks atsite, I spent a lot of time in cafes, talking with people and eating keke. Mostof the conversations centered around my marital status – people just couldn’tget how a 23-year-old girl was single…and wanted to be single. During one ofthese conversations, a man in his 40s walked into the café, sat down, andlistened. He interrupted the conversation and asked me, “When do you want toget married?” I told him I didn’t know. Everyone laughed, as I’d expected. Hethen asked how old I was. I told him. Then he said in a super matter-of-facttone, “When a Rwandan girl is 21, she wants a husband.” So then I said, “I’mAmerican. In America, we think you should get married when you have love. Godlikes love, so it is good. If you are 18, 20, 30, 50, not a problem. You canget married when you have love.” And to that, he shut up. When I glancedaround, hoping I hadn’t offended anyone terribly, I made eye contact with anold lady (who holds the epitome of Rwandan culture and respect), who had beenquiet the entire time. She smiled at me and nodded her head. If the old ladyagrees with me, I thought, then I guess I’m not so crazy in this cultureafterall! My hope was that little seeds had been planted in all their minds,especially the man’s, to slowly begin to think that marriage isn’t the onlyoption for a girl who is 21.
A fellow teacher at my school asked me questions aboutAmerican culture that interested him. He asked me about the relationshipbetween husbands and wives in America. (Generally, I try to paint the pictureas accurate as possible – like saying, “Some Americans think…but otherAmericans think…and so on.”) I said that Americans believe that women and menare equal, so in a home, for example, the wife may cook dinner one night butthe husband may cook dinner the next night. Then he said, “Americans think thatwomen and men are the same. What about with strength? Women are not stronger thanmen. Women cannot build. Women cannot farm.” I laughed at this and told himthat I think some Rwandan women are stronger than men, as I see many womenevery day working on their fields for maybe 12 hours and then I see theirhusbands drinking all day. He seemed startled by my response, but then he askedme how to become a western man. I said that all he needs to do is say to hiswife, “Wife, I love you. I want to help you. Teach me how to cook boiledbananas.” And then once he learns, he can cook them for her. I was frustratedby this conversation for a few days, but now I’m glad it happened out of thehope that maybe he asked his wife how to cook boiled bananas.
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