Home Sweet Home

Bité everyone,


I am back on Canadian soil, feels so good to be able to speak proper english and have people understand without having to speak super slow and clear and have the worse grammar ever! Thank you canadians! haha

The flight wasn`t super bad, but my day ended with a huge amount of pain due to turbulance and apparently i have the tendency to sleep on my right side, on my right shoulder, which is my bad shoulder, which was ...dumb.
But my day got that much better when my shiny blue truck pulled up and not only was my Mike inside, but there was a squirrel that almost jumped out of her skin which was a very nice welcome home.
`Now I`m relaxing and cuddling with the fam on the couch watching a movie and laughing over photos, then a SHOWER... WOOO!!!! very excited about that, and then the mumz place for dinner and prezzys. :)

Just a not. I`ll be adding photos and video collaborating with stories from while we were in Rwanda, so if you`d like to keep checking back, there will be stories posted.
Thanks so much to everyone for staying with me for my stories and my trip! Hope you enjoyed.

Just to start here are a few photos to keep you occupied.

Twimpala School. A refurbished facility in rural Ngeruka sector in Bugesera district. Playing with a few of the young kids on the RTP basketball - volleyball court.

Playing at the first school of the trip with out activity group in Kigali, Rwanda.

Tree climbing; A universal entertainment play-toy.

A little lady plays on a hanging tree branch looking out on the passers-by near home.

Sabina, a kindergardener at the Memorial Center orphanage on the outer limits of Kigali, Rwanda.

Gisimba Memorial Center & Genocide Memorial

Bité and good evening everybody.

Welcome to day 6 and our final full day on our week long trip through Rwanda, Africa.

Though we were becoming more and more sad as the morning went one since Helen had to leave at 1:05am Saturday and the other 3 of us have the whole day tomorrow to do stuff before having to be back and to the airport around 5pm.

Although the sadness was there a little our day was quickly brightened.

We knew we had one more stop off on our "Right to Play programs list", Gisimba Memorial Center which was an orphanage for children 1 yr and younger to as old as 25. Many of the children in the orphanage were victims of war, or disease. Parents bringing children to hospitals while they were sick and when the parent died the children were left helpless, street kids, older kids effected by 1994. Kids of all backgrounds, shapes and sizes were welcome at Gisimba.

we started our visit by meeting the director quickly where he explained the age groups which he then stated were in school that morning, "so we only have out kindergarden kids to play with today" we looked at eachother and replied "oh damn, only kindergarden!" like really? Whats cuter then kinder gardeners that just want to hold your hand and copy you to whole time?

The first class came out of the far building and followed a stone path perfectly down the middle of the playground, most of the kids had they're fingers to their mouths, implying they were taught not to yell out or say anything when they came out for play time.

Within 20 minutes we had 4 different classes out playing, and so we all took a group. Its amazing how interesting you are to these kids and how much they just want to be the ones that get to hold your hand and play with your watch and in my case, stick they're hands in my cargo-pant pockets.

we played a few warm up games and dances then went into a sharing game, the kids that were around me were much more interested in what I was doing then participating with the games.

At one point to get to they're level I crouched down, what I wasn't expecting was for 22 out of 30 of the kids in my group to crouch down like myself. haha.

We played with the kids for about 45-60 minutes and then they were called back to class, we went into visit with the classes after a quick photograph with the staff at the orphanage who were amazing RTP coaches and leaders. We taught a few really quick games, listened to some of they're little songs, watched the teachers/coaches play verbal games with the kids and then we had to say our final goodbye, though it was inevitable that NO ONE wanted to leave!

We gathered into the truck, trying to stay on schedule and headed off to headquarters to have a de-brief with the Kigali, Right to Play people, all were very interested in our stories and notes on the programs and the coaches and the amazing kids! We talked for a while and after a quick video clip of Helen's silver medal bobsleigh race in Vancouver and Roz's gold $10K win at the championships a few years back, to give the team at RTP Kigali a jist of what the girls do when we say "its like skatboarding on ice" or "its like race car driving down ice", those explainations never really did work out too well. We realized we were late for lunch with the Canadian ambassitor of Kigali, so we rushed off to meet him.

His name was James and he had brought his family to live in Kigali a year ago, his colleague was Willow and she had just moved to Kigali 2 weeks ago, all were very interested in our experiences and our ideas and especially hearing about the sports and how the athletes enjoyed the kids and the programs and what they're doing to be more supportive of RTP and get into the programs more.

Lunch went late, till around 2:30pm when we finalized our afternoon schedule.

20 minutes later we were walking through the entrance of the Kigali Genoride memorial museum and park.

We had started to brace ourselves once we walked through the door, the first rooms explained what it was and how it happened and why and then the aftermath. Luckily, I picked up a trait from my father, to read every little caption on every picture and every piece of information I could get into my head, so the emotional side of everything I think was muted to a sence by the information I was taking in, which was so interesting and devostating and amazingly explained all at the same time. The museum went on for just under an hour, I did skip through a few rooms, the room dedicated to children lost with they're names and photos up on the walls I didn't go through. But I did take my time to walk through the picture room where people had brought pictures of family members in and hung them up on the hooks, some with quotes underneath others with names, others with final words I guessed. Beside that there was a room of human remains they had found, glass cases of skulls, where you could see machette marks and where their skulls had been smashed in with whatever it was they got hit with. And the 3rd room was some belongings of the people they found in mass graves around Rwanda, t-shirts and kids clothes and blankets and dresses and etc.

As you walked through it explained about other "genocides" around the world including the holycaust and a few other massacres that are historical events. Each with a very detailed description and meaning behind it.

After about 30 minutes I noticed that the girls had burst ahead, walking through most of the museum without looking at much, I knew Roz and Steph especially were not handling it well it was the bones room that got them I think, it was alot to take in so I didn't blame them. As yu walked outside there were beautiful gardens and fountains all with different meanings, you followed paths until you came to a gate, when you walked through there were very large concrete slabs, about 35 feet by 13 feet, each of these slabs, were the final burial place to 150,000-250,000 bodies each.

I felt slightly guilty, walking around, though I was moved by everything I saw, I did not cry. I felt sadness, I felt upset but i never got to crying and I never really felt like I was going to start to cry... I thought that was a little strange, as I walked down to the names listed on the walls around the mass graves, many bodies they had told us were unrecoverable, and could not be identified, the others were those who were on a "murder list" so to speak where they were individually hunted down in their own homes.

You really don't understand until you come here, until you stand on the streets of Kigali and realize that blood flowed through them not long ago, till you see the Congo-Rwandan border where neearly 300,000 lives were taken.

As I walked alone through the 6 + mass graves I thought to myself how can this feel so fake when it is so very real, like I wanted to believe it was all a bad dream but one I couldn't wake up too.

As I stood looking over a single mass grave I found my hand raise to my forehead then to my chest then to each shoulder and I heard myself start to speak. No one was around so I guess thats why I was quietly talking out loud like someone was very close beside me. By the time I realized what I was doing my hands were folded and my speech slow and clear. I stood and prayed for the families, I prayed they continue to have strength, that the ones who are still very scarred be healed to the best they can. I prayed for the children who lost mothers and fathers, to the brothers and sisters who lost brothers and sisters, to the mothers and fathers and uncles and aunts and grandparents.

I am not a super religious person, but without knowing I had drawn myself to pray for the souls that left before they're time. I thanked those who saved lives, those who protected and sacrificed themselves to buy time for family or friends or complete strangers.

I prayed for peace and love and healing. But most of all I prayed for the fallen.

Just before I crossed my body and said Amen a quote popped into my head, one that I had seen inside on a plaque "This is about our past and our future. Our nightmares and our dreams. Our hopes and fears". So I made a last plee, I prayed for the future to shine like the lights of Kigali, I prayed for they're dreams to never become nightmares and I prayed for love instead of fear, beside the hope that we've seen on our trip already I then crossed my body and paused, "amen" came from my lips and I felt free... free from somthing that grabs onto you, something you can't see and sometimes can't feel till its so big that its erriversible.

The rain started to fall as I made my way to the path and through the beautiful canopy of flowers to the main building.

And I thought to myself...

"Rain to end this, maybe is proof that someone is showing these people and the world we are allowed to feel sad, because the rain will wash away the past and leave only the future of new life".

Amen.

~a.grange~

Bugesera District Adventure

Bité!

Welcome to day 5 of our African adventure which landed us in rural Rwanda yet again.

The day started nicely woke up on time, and was at breaky and ready to go by 8:15am. Jumped in the truck with Fred out Right to Play driver companion, who then took us out of town.

We were heading for meetings and a trip to a school in rural Kigali area, in a district called Bugesera in a sector called Ngeruka. The road out to Ngeruka took us 2 hours to complete, over red sand, through windy roads and flood lines throughout mountains and over creeky bridges, all avoiding the people seen along the road side, but we eventually were standing at the door to the Right to Play office in sector Ngeruka of district Bugesera.

We arrived at the Right to Play office and picked up our two friends, Edwin and Peter. From there we all hoped in Fred's 4x4 and made our way out onto the red sand path, through the trees and little towns till we came to the gates of Twimpala School. The children were excited to see visitors especially white ones (as all the schools seem to be) so when we exited the truck we gathered crowds are nearby doorways and class windows. There were 3 classes with Right to Play activities for us to join in on, Peter explained that the class would give us a demonstration before we joined but that didn't stop us from jumping into the circle.

After a few minutes I looked over to the 2nd group and ran off to join it since we had 4/4 of us in the one group. I got to play "dog catch" which was what it translated too, after a few warm ups and a quick stretch and hi to the kids around me, we started in one chalked off box, a "dog" person was chosen to be in the middle chalk box, when they barked or woofed, all of us had to run to the other side of the "Dog box", if they caught you, you became a "dog". I was caught by a very cute boy who giggled histarically that he was the one that had caught the "musungu" (white person). After this game the class went back to studies and I returned to the rest of my Right to Play companions in they're group where we answered questions about HIV;s and AIDS and played a game to help us associate between the symptonms we might see if someone has these illness', the kids were fantastic and such good listeners and such good creative children.

We then had a meeting with some teachers and coaches of the school, we entered a classroom where they had laid out a table dressing with flowers and chairs so we could sit at the head of the class. Behind us on the chalk board was a drawing with the words "Dear athlete ambassators you are welcome at Twimpala groupe, scolaire as one of the schools working with Right to Play in Bugesera district", a very welcoming entrance. After a talk with staff our meeting with the principal came as a strange surprise when he thought most of the RTP funding should go to his school so the coaches can have new outfits, the kids can have sweats to play in, he can get more coaches and he even asked if we had enough to get him a secretary, since all the other school head masters were so amazing and caring and for the kids, we didn't think it would be so ... greedy anywhere but he showed us wrong I guess!

As we walked out of the classroom the rooms around us buzzed with attention, some kids followed, others stared, most just clung to the doorways of they're classrooms watching the "musunga's" walk through they're little school of 2132 students.

We were told about a RTP funded play area, so obviously our excitement to see it guided us around a corner and down a small dip onto the cement of a basketball/volleyball court, a very beautiful one might I add, with the RTP logo in the back-boards of the basketbal nets. Helen in all her glory thought my idea to get a photo under the nets would be that much better if we all jumped into the air as the photo was taken, 5 photos later, we had one with us getting ready to jump, 2 with us just taking off, one progression shot with Steph barely off the ground, me a little higher, Roz a little high and Helen up in the clouds! When the children started to gather we desided we needed the kids to participate, so the results of 2/5 of the photos were te kids not understanding and the next one is posted here, and I think it was a huge success as does the rest of the RTP volunteer squad.

Our adventures were cut into by the crowd of small kids gathering watching us jump up and down, up and down so Steph decided they needed to learn her favorite RTP dance.

*3 claps* hands shaking over right leg out to the side "a zigga zigga" *clap 3 times* hands shaking over left leg out to the side "a zigga zigga" *clap 3 times* jump up and down hands out over head to right side "a zigga zigga"*clap 3 times* jump up and down hands out over head to left side "a zigga zigga" *clap 3 times* hands on hips shake butt down to the ground "ooh cha cha cha, ooh cha cha cha, ooh cha cha cha" .

The kids loved it! and picked it up so fast, espeically with Helen, Steph, Roz and I doing it in front of them, it was alot of fun and we trained the smaller kids, then tried on the bigger kids though ther was no way it would work.

After the fun and games were done we waved goodbye to the older kids who had now gathered along the bank at the edge of the basketball court to watch us dance, and headed towards the vehicle in a sea of small bodies following in toe behind us.

  Its hilarious how these kids follow us around like we are so special, they are the special ones to us! We made our way through the masses and arrived at the vehicle with enough time to get a few candid shots with all the kids that surrounded the truck like a title wave!

Such good kids just excited for visitors from far away.

We waved goodbye out our windows and made out way back to the office for a meeting with coaches.

I would like to just justify my gratitude towards the coaches that met with us, they were so amazing and excited and generous towards us and our questions (in which everyone of the 12 of them had an answer for), they were amazing to talk to and they signed off with a traditional goodbye in African terms, a silly little clapping dance and at the end a big MUAH! 2 hands on the lips and throws you a kiss, which is a huge thing here in Rwanda, seems everyone young and old show they're gratitude that way, its silly to us but respectful to them I believe.

After a short stop to have lunch and a quick chat with the assistant director of the Ngeruka sector of Bugesera district, we were on our way home. Its amazing what you see in Rwanda, everything is so fresh and green and beautiful, so when we saw pineapples on the side of the road for sale it prompted Fred to take us to a market, it was amazing to see all the people and they're stands with all the fresh fruit you could ever want! After a few minutes we realized that this market didn't sell special African made items, just cheap china made products and then all the fresh fruit and etc. So we stopped and picked up the best banana's I've ever had, just little ones, we grabbed a pineapple for breaky tomorrow and a kilogram of passion fruit  (7 balls), also a breaky snack tomorrow which we are quite excited about! Not many can say they've bitten into fresh passion fruit from an African market!

When we brought up the question about the cheesy tourist crap, Fred smiled told us to get in the truck and within 20-25 minutes we were outside a shop circle, just an area with many shops built into a small space. The stuff was beautiful! I managed to get a few things for my brother Tyler's birhtday that I missed last weekend, sorry bro, love you :), as well as a few things for myself, and something for my mum. We had arrived as the shops were closing so the rest of the family will have to wait till we get the chance (if we get the chance) to make it there tomorrow.

(P.S - No Ty your presents aren't in the photos and yours either mums, I'm not that dumb!)

After the evening darkened we found ourselves showered and dress and headed in a taxi to an interesting place. We arrived and heard beautiful music and talking and the smell of fresh tropical flowers, the smell of barbados (for those who have been and know what I'm talking about *little white flowers*), we walked down the stars at THE Hotel Rwanda destination and had a wonderful dinner, its somewhat unsettling to be sitting there, knowing that though the movie was a dramatization by hollywood, that that information is mostly factual, that all that happened and that everything that went wrong a mere 18 years ago now, is forgotten or pushed aside by the natives but guests obviously still feel it by the looks on some faces at tables around us, I don't know how you'd stay there... I think it would be too eery all the time just thinking about everything... *shiver*

Anyways... I want to add that over the last few days I have grown to like Helen Upperton and Roz G, they are greatly talented people and both love children and are amazing at what they do and explaining why it helps kids and life and etc, they are nice and funny and smart and athletic... but I couldn't help thinking as we were waiting for our dinners, talking about biographies and science novels and povety novels and novels about peace and war and child rights and helping the world and facts and stories of history (etc), that wow... I feel really really dumb right now. Helen asked what everyones favorite book was, I automatically said "Ender's Game" which is my favorite book, I have read it 11 times and am now on the series and its a wonderful read and well writen in every aspect. Apparently though, no one was looking for my opinion and so it was ignored, as Roz tried to pick a favorite from the french revolutionary days and Steph threw in "the power of one" which is the story of a boy in Africa in the middle of Hitlers rain and he is harrassed and his life story is told through the book, it is a good book. It just seemed like Steph, Roz and Helen were quite happy talkign about "have you read this?" "YES! it was amazing so moving and inspiring" while I'm sitting there staring into the candle like...'I read poetry and orson scott card novels (enders game's author)' but no one would care why I read poetry or how I feel about it because it wasn't about an orphanage in Sweden or starvation in the middle east or war in Africa or something else, I may know alittle about alot, but I've never been in a situation where I feel like I am an inch tall. Its not fun, feeling like you are completely incompetent, I wouldn't recommend it anytime soon.

I now just want to go home and see people that appreciate who I am and think I'm talented and smart and bigger then this, as my Mike has been trying to explain to me for 30 minutes.

I guess I'll go to bed and read "The Power of One" which I started on the way out here, and strive to be as intelligent as an olympic athelete on day cause they apparently know how to create a better world from a few books and a few week long vacations...ya...right.

Thanks

Cheers from Inside Africa hotel, Kigali, Rwanda

~a.grange~