Home Visits (Post #11)

    

 

Today was full of wonders.  I spent the morning catching up on writing and work.  I had a nice private meeting with Olive and we really got to work together.  Baby Esther sat with me and was my new work buddy for a while, she is so sweet. 

  It is amazing that here, Olive just has her baby with her while she works.  When she needs help, someone comes to sweep her away and Olive carries on, then the baby cries and reappears to be fed, always loved, never put down.  She is so adored by the community, it is beautiful.  Imagine the fuss we give over child care in the US!  Here, women farm with an infant on their back, without a thought.

 

Then Patrick came to meet me!  He is a former Nyabirehe student who scored 100% on his national exam last year but did not have the money to go to boarding school.  So one of the MUG board members gave him a scholarship and he is now flourishing in school. He is really amazing and works so hard.  He brought us his report card and improved 11% in one term!  So great. This year, his success is inspiring a new scholarship program.

In the afternoon, we went with Jean Damascene, the community health worker (CHW), to visit the homes of two of the most vulnerable families in the community. Just as the CHW does every day, we hiked up these very steep mountain paths, so rocky and treacherous. 

   

I was ok, but I cannot imagine how they do it when it is raining.  There are canyons that fill with water when it rains. 

 We climbed and climbed and the view was stunning!  Walls covered in flowers, sheep grazing on hillsides, it looks idyllic at times.  

    

But I looked around me and, all over, people farmed and walked with no shoes and ratty old clothes.  Every spot is cultivated for food and still they have so little.  The farms are gorgeous, but it feels as if I stepped back into the middle ages and feudal times.  

   

  Tiny plots of land, a cow or sheep here and there, and mud huts. The houses range from a few rooms of stone with tiled rooves to a tiny hut of sticks and mud. None were more than a few rudimentary rooms, and none had any amenities more than shelter from the elements.  Latrines and outhouses were the extent of sanitation.

   

The first family we visited has 9 children (4 sets of twins and one other!!!) and all 11 people live together in a tiny mud hut.  They sleep on a ground full of stones.  The father lost part of his leg in an accident years ago and cannot work.  But they welcomed us with open arms and quiet smiles.  

  

As I stepped into their home, I felt my life shift.  They showed me their three small rooms,

   

 the three stones they use to cook in the traditional Rwandan fashion, 

and the floor where their 9 children sleep on stones.  There is one bed where the parents sleep.  

These people were so humble and sweet.  They have so little, and yet they were proud to show me their home and garden.  

Through our community outreach program, IREME taught them how to have a kitchen garden and started them with seedlings and now they have a way to begin to feed themselves.  The garden they had before attempted to coax some little bites from the land. 

 

And now what they can grow is unbelievable. 

   

 They have real crops that they can eat, and they already have plans to expand to another small plot, just after a few months. I got so emotional, I just cried.  This woman, with so little, stood in her garden and was able to hold her head high with the pride that she could work to feed her family.  

 

In the yard in front of this home, my life changed forever. 

I looked at these people who have so little and live with so much need, and in them I saw humans not so far from myself.  The only thing that separates us is circumstance.  Just like me, they want to live each day with security and health. They want to provide for their children and love their family.  And when they get one small opportunity, they work so hard to make it work.  The humanity in them touched my heart, and I did not leave there the same.

As we sat, a pack of children gathered on the ledge above us, staring at me and so interested in the Muzungo (white person).  I am a real attraction.  As we walked, they followed us all the way up and

down the mountain. 

At first, they watched me warily from afar, wondering what I was doing in their neighborhood.  I waved up to them and a few would wave back, the others would get startled and hide their faces.  But as I walked around the garden, some of them climbed down to get a closer look.  At one point I took a few pictures and showed them the image.  Just like any other children in this age, they were fascinated by seeing the pictures on my phone.  When the rest realized what was happening, they all crowded around wanting me to take their photos.  Here, I finally got some good belly laughs.

We continued up the hill to another house and saw a family who has literally nothing.  They do not even have a pot to catch rain water, but instead dig a hole in the ground and scoop water out of the mud when it rains. They have no land around their house to even build a garden. They said they are so hungry, they maybe have some milk once a day and sometimes some porridge at night…I was speechless.  

But our CHW had been there for visits, and he monitors what they have.  While we were there, I asked him to show me what a typical class of his looks like.  He goes up to these remote areas and talks to people about hygiene, nutrition and keeping their kids in school.  This day, he did a class presentation for me.  He reviewed with them that they need soap to wash their hands, and try to wash their clothes.  He was so good with them.  Usually a very quiet man, he lit up when he started teaching.  

Then we realized some of the girls there were at the story hour I did a few months ago, so they saw me on zoom!  They did the dance for me and then they taught me how to do it!  It was my dream to dance with the children and now I did it. I was so, so happy I was jumping up and down. Then I basically ran down the mountain full of joy and energy. 

This day remains the most impactful of my trip. It is easy to sit in the comfort of my house and think about what life may be like for people struggling across the world. But to go into someone's home and be welcomed with such trust and acceptance, in a place so isolated and far from opportunity is a completely different thing. That day, I let the weight of this suffering sink into my bones, and it altered my perspective on humanity.  It showed me the true importance of connection between people, and I marveled at the capacity for joy in the face of scarcity.  The people I met are so beautiful, and the children are full of hope and possibility.  When the work gets overwhelming, I have only to close my eyes and put myself back in those moments and I have strength.