This week we have started our second round of interviewing in rural Rwanda. We have been going to individual households rather than speaking to beneficiaries at the distribution centers. The change in demeanor of the participants and the difference in interview quality has been astounding. It is amazing to see people and how they are able to open up when the are in the safety of their homes.
We were in a rural sector about 2 hours from Kigali, but it felt as remote as any place I have ever been. I was working with Laura, and our interview styles coalesced well. The idea of the methodology we are using is to let interviewees talk and have a conversation with us about the most significant changes in their lives that have resulted from the program. So, having a natural conversation through a translator is tough, but doing it at a distribution point is even tougher.
The first house we went to was small and compact. It was constructed of mud and clay and had a dirt floor. It was dark and cool inside, and very smoky from the cook stove. We sat on small wooden stools in the entry way while the participant, her daughter, her grand daughter, her neighbor and our translator all stood and looked at us. I tried waving to the baby grand daughter, and this sent inter into wracking sobs. She had never seen a white person before. Let alone one in her house. We talked for about 40 minutes, and then the beneficiary led us around to see her garden, her goats, her rabbits and the pig should buy after participating in the program. We took some photos and it was amazing to see this woman beaming at what she had accomplished.
She then led us across a field to her neighbors house (the same neighbor who was in her house). He was also a beneficiary and so he took us to his place to talk. It was also constructed of mud and clay, and behind the house was a sort of outdoor compound. He showed us his cows and rabbits, the water catchment system he made, and the goats he had. He talked about how he uses the manure for organic fertilizer and can now produce enough food for his family. He talked about living with HIV and how he had depended on the program for psychosocial support after losing the majority of his family in the genocide. It was amazing to see his resilience, meet his wife and children (who stared wide eyed at us throughout the interview). After talking he invited us to have fresh corn on the cob that he grew in his yard. We all prayed together in Kinyarwanda before eating and then laughed and joked and ate around the small wooden table in the smoky entry room of the home. I was told I must get to eat eggs and milk every day to be as big as I am.
We heard a lot about the tough process of reconciliation after the genocide and how community members have had to learn to lean on each other to survive. We were then lead to our last house and were told it would be a 10 minute walk. The walk turned into a 70 minute hike/intense descent down the steep face of a mountain. It was rainy and the red mud was very slippery. Every direction but up dropped down to the valley floor, so it was hard to not think of falling all the way down. We were groaning internally as it was hot and humid and drizzling and buggy but it was so beautiful, and half way down the clouds broke open and gave us a glorious view all the way down the valley.
It was worth the trek to visit this woman's home. She was so honored to have visitors come see her, and felt relieved and encouraged to have program staff come all the way to her home. She told of her successes and challenges and showed us around her property. It is amazing the bond that can form through smiling, nodding and trying to listen. Even through the translator we were able to feel connected to her. Her children would glance suspiciously at us, the giggle and run away if we made eye contact. We saw her cows and her chickens, and learned about the techniques she had received for growing a home vegetable garden. We took pictures with her and her family, and then she walked us to the valley floor in flip flops with a baby on her back and had no trouble at all.
The path up from the valley floor dead ended at and elementary school and about 200 Rwandan children were let out of class to watch us white folks walk by. The word for white folks is Muzungu and it echoed through the crowd of children like a song. The littlest ones were elated and shouted it happily. The middle ones giggled and tried to not look at us. The older kids knew they shouldnt yell muzungu, but they all said it anyway, like something they could not stop from coming out. Like a hiccup or a startled gasp..."muzungu!" The crowded tightly around us and it was quite the scene. We were the day's field trip. I took a couple of pictures because it was so unusual.
Our truck was waiting on the road for us. I got in delighted. This is what I have wanted to do. I want to continue to seek people out, to validate their hard work, to help them get access to resources, and to help them to develop the inherent skills they already have. It was a marvelous day.
We were in a rural sector about 2 hours from Kigali, but it felt as remote as any place I have ever been. I was working with Laura, and our interview styles coalesced well. The idea of the methodology we are using is to let interviewees talk and have a conversation with us about the most significant changes in their lives that have resulted from the program. So, having a natural conversation through a translator is tough, but doing it at a distribution point is even tougher.
The first house we went to was small and compact. It was constructed of mud and clay and had a dirt floor. It was dark and cool inside, and very smoky from the cook stove. We sat on small wooden stools in the entry way while the participant, her daughter, her grand daughter, her neighbor and our translator all stood and looked at us. I tried waving to the baby grand daughter, and this sent inter into wracking sobs. She had never seen a white person before. Let alone one in her house. We talked for about 40 minutes, and then the beneficiary led us around to see her garden, her goats, her rabbits and the pig should buy after participating in the program. We took some photos and it was amazing to see this woman beaming at what she had accomplished.
She then led us across a field to her neighbors house (the same neighbor who was in her house). He was also a beneficiary and so he took us to his place to talk. It was also constructed of mud and clay, and behind the house was a sort of outdoor compound. He showed us his cows and rabbits, the water catchment system he made, and the goats he had. He talked about how he uses the manure for organic fertilizer and can now produce enough food for his family. He talked about living with HIV and how he had depended on the program for psychosocial support after losing the majority of his family in the genocide. It was amazing to see his resilience, meet his wife and children (who stared wide eyed at us throughout the interview). After talking he invited us to have fresh corn on the cob that he grew in his yard. We all prayed together in Kinyarwanda before eating and then laughed and joked and ate around the small wooden table in the smoky entry room of the home. I was told I must get to eat eggs and milk every day to be as big as I am.
We heard a lot about the tough process of reconciliation after the genocide and how community members have had to learn to lean on each other to survive. We were then lead to our last house and were told it would be a 10 minute walk. The walk turned into a 70 minute hike/intense descent down the steep face of a mountain. It was rainy and the red mud was very slippery. Every direction but up dropped down to the valley floor, so it was hard to not think of falling all the way down. We were groaning internally as it was hot and humid and drizzling and buggy but it was so beautiful, and half way down the clouds broke open and gave us a glorious view all the way down the valley.
It was worth the trek to visit this woman's home. She was so honored to have visitors come see her, and felt relieved and encouraged to have program staff come all the way to her home. She told of her successes and challenges and showed us around her property. It is amazing the bond that can form through smiling, nodding and trying to listen. Even through the translator we were able to feel connected to her. Her children would glance suspiciously at us, the giggle and run away if we made eye contact. We saw her cows and her chickens, and learned about the techniques she had received for growing a home vegetable garden. We took pictures with her and her family, and then she walked us to the valley floor in flip flops with a baby on her back and had no trouble at all.
The path up from the valley floor dead ended at and elementary school and about 200 Rwandan children were let out of class to watch us white folks walk by. The word for white folks is Muzungu and it echoed through the crowd of children like a song. The littlest ones were elated and shouted it happily. The middle ones giggled and tried to not look at us. The older kids knew they shouldnt yell muzungu, but they all said it anyway, like something they could not stop from coming out. Like a hiccup or a startled gasp..."muzungu!" The crowded tightly around us and it was quite the scene. We were the day's field trip. I took a couple of pictures because it was so unusual.
Our truck was waiting on the road for us. I got in delighted. This is what I have wanted to do. I want to continue to seek people out, to validate their hard work, to help them get access to resources, and to help them to develop the inherent skills they already have. It was a marvelous day.
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