Pack.It.Up Adventures

Shades of Gray

2011-10-13T16:31:00.001+02:00

A while back (as I'm sure most of you will recall as it's come up
several times now), I wrote a blog entitled 'The Dark Side of Peace
Corps'. Admittedly, that blog was, well… dark. In reality, Peace Corps
Service isn't 'dark,' but neither is it 'light.'

One of the best word I feel could be applied to being a Volunteer
is 'ambiguous.' We come into a culture that we have almost no ties to,
that we have to attempt to understand and comprehend at the same time
as we try to learn a new language, develop technical skills,
rationalize our life choices, and generally stay sane. But let's be
honest, that last one is questionable.

My point here is that we are (quite literally) on our own. Yes, we
have Rwandan counterparts and co-workers. Yes, we have other
Volunteers. Yes, we have Peace Corps. There used to be a time when
Peace Corps literally dropped you off in a remote village with a
2-year supply of anti-malaria meds and a pat on the head (actually,
they still do this, but now they only give us a 3 month supply). While
Peace Corps does provide support, Volunteers are generally left to
their own devices when it comes to our projects (so long as we
actually try at our primary jobs). In the realm of other people, our
counterparts and coworkers are simply not equipped culturally to help
us define our roles here. Peace Corps usually gets invited into a
country to help facilitate behavior change and capacity building.
While it is possible that some Rwandans (like my Headmaster) will give
me project ideas, most of them either see themselves as not part of
the flaw in the system or see no way to fix the flaw, and therefor
simply do not worry about it. While we can have fun and work with our
co-workers, the improvement techniques usually need to come from the
Volunteers, rendering the Counterpart relatively useless in the realm
of determining our roles.

While other Volunteers have the capacity to understand us culturally,
they are also going through the same ambiguity. Of course, we share
our jackpot ideas and best practices. And yes, this can and usually
does help us to define our role in our community. However, every
Volunteer, every community, every village, every school, every
hospital, and every Peace Corps experience is different. Just because
my school wants me to build a recording study (sidenote: telling
students who live in a country literally obsessed with Justin Bieber,
pop music, and AutoTune that you used to help produce music is a
horrible idea) doesn't mean it would be a good/applicable idea for
another volunteers. Just because one Volunteer is asked to only teach
8 hours per week doesn't mean we all will. Just because I have to deal
with one cultural burden doesn't mean that another has to.
Some days you find yourself accompanied on your 45 minute walk to the
market by a gaggle (I believe that's the appropriate term) of school
children who speak Kinyarwanda you can actually understand. Other days
you find yourself crammed into a mini bus with 20 drunk people, none
of whom speak English and all of whom are curious as to how your hair
feels, if your skin will rub off, why your teeth are so straight, or
why you do not seem to understand the difference between 'gusura' and
'gusuura' (they're actually spelled the same, just with different
lengths of the second 'U'). Some days your students are rays of
sunshine; answering your questions, doing their work, passing their
exams. Other days you find out your neighbor was never married. The
father of her only child, who didn't die in the War (as you expected)
but was actually a local officials and she, in her words not mine,
"was required to sleep with him.' Some days, this country, these
experiences, make you feel like the world is coming together, that we
finally have hope, that you are being productive. Then some days the
experiences make you want to hurl. To curl up in a ball and just...
let it all go. To fight back. But this is the Peace Corps. We all
signed up for this knowing it would be the furthest thing from easy
we'd ever done or been through. Some days you're the dog...

These are the physical ambiguities. If you ask Peace Corps what we
should be doing, they will simply stare at your, puzzled, and ask what
we see as potential projects in your communities. And perhaps
rightfully so. After all, we are the ones who live here. We are the
ones who eat, play, live, work, and drink with these people. We are
the ones who will have to do the projects and have the talents. It
isn't the Peace Corps Office that is making changes in this country,
it's the Volunteers.

The problem most of us run into is that we are relatively
inexperienced. I had never taught a class before. I had never led
training sessions on SMART objectives. I've never built a computer lab
or written a textbook. But here, we are called to do these things. I
fell it's a little absurd that we're sent here to 'build capacity' in
the education sector when we can barely teach ourselves. That
withstanding, I think it breaks down to culture on issues like this.
I'm not a licensed teacher. I don't have a degree or a Ph.D. in this.
Damn near the only training I do have is 16 years in Western schools.
But it more so boils down to how we see things. It never occurs to my
teachers that lesson plans can be re-used. Or to relate your new
material to something that the students have already learned (or,
ideally, are currently leaning or just have learned). In that realm,
maybe I have a leg up on my co-workers. Not because our way of
education is better, but because Rwandan education is trying so hard
to be western and I have that down pat.

Everything is ambiguous. If you ever find yourself in Rwanda and wish
to test this, just try to get a straight answer out of a Rwandan. It's
not that they won't tell you definitively, it's that you can ask 10
different people and get 10 different answers when they really should
all be on the same page. For instance, I asked around to find out when
exam week would starts. My Headmaster says October 17th. The Dean of
Studies says the 10th. My Counterpart, Anatole, says somewhere in the
middle. When I point out the discrepancy to the Dean of Studies, he
rescinds and says the Headmaster must be right. When I say something
to the Headmaster, he says the Dean of Studies must be right. I've
just decided that no one actually knows. But of course, as figures of
authority, they MUST know the correct answer to every question I pose.

On top of all this, there is a general emotional ambiguity. I could
talk and talk about how we have emotion swings strong enough to rival
McGuire and Sosa, but I think I already did that once. We know we have
ups and downs. However, one thing that perhaps isn't obvious is what
happens when you couple this with serving in a post-conflict country.
How am I supposed to feel about Rwanda, the government, and its people
when my best Rwandan friend says he cannot finish University because
of the 'ethnicity' of his father? Or how he describes to me the day
they came and 'cut down' his cousins because of whom their father was
(the 'they' he is referring to is the INTERAHAMWE, which is
Kinyarwanda for 'those who fight/work/kill together' and was the main
militia force used during the Genocide). How am I supposed to feel
about this? How are we supposed to reason that away and do our jobs
when our Counterparts have been trying to do this for 17 years and
still face the difficulties of it every day? I've been in the country
for a year and am still reduced to tears when I walk through my
church, running my hands over the bullet holes in the brick left over
from a 4 day, 3,000 person massacre.

Yet every day I see the hope in the eyes of my students. I asked one
of my Senior 4 students (about 10th grade) why he decided to continue
school. You should remember here that Rwanda is currently a 9-year
basic education system, meaning that Senior 4, 5, and 6 are not
considered 'basic' and therefor rather expensive to attend. He told me
that he knew he will be nothing even if he finishes Senior 6, but he
would be even less if he stopped at Senior 3. What drove him, he said,
is the simple hope that he will find something, anything, to support
him and his family. And he will not stop learning until he is on top
or out of money. Unfortunately, the latter is much, much more common.

My emotional connection to this country, culture, and these people is
torn. On one hand, I see them smile through adversity, I see them take
what they're given and be happy with it. I see them deal with
corruption, discrimination, ageism, and sexism and still proclaim that
they are proud to be Rwandan. And then I remember what happened. What
still happens. I remember what happened the last time a large group of
Rwandans unified and declared that they were proud of who they were.
How in the world can a people come back from a million-person
massacre? How can they trust their leaders when the last ones twisted
and distorted one group into systematically destroying another out of
pure hatred? How do they rationalize these emotions? How to they carry
their grief, doubt, shame, honor? How? How? How?

I tell my students that I love Rwanda. That I came here because I love
the people and want to help. I can never explain the pure bewilderment
in the eyes when I tell them this. It's almost like many Rwandans are
ashamed to be Rwandan. Give them an opportunity to leave and live
somewhere outside Rwandan and they'd be gone. Don't get me wrong,
there's nothing wrong with going to the States or to Europe if your
Rwandan, and I would definitely encourage any of my students to get to
the best University they can get into regardless of where it is. What
bothers me is Rwandans who 'jump ship.' This is your country and you
should be proud of what you are, especially considering where the
country was 17 years ago. Rwanda has made remarkable strides in
thrusting itself into the world community despite the War, despite
it's overwhelming lack of resources, despite the general lack of
education options, despite the poverty levels. Kigali and Rwanda were
once compared to Mogadishu and Somalia. No one who has ever been to
either would make that comparison now.

Things are not black and white in Peace Corps. Nor are they in Rwanda.
The ambiguity, the open-endedness, the flip flopping and the back and
forth can easily destroy any semblance of consistency and normality we
are used to in American life. Yes, on the surface everything seems
clear-cut, straight-forward, and obvious. And then you start trying to
learn Kinyarwanda….

But the ambiguity, the duality, and often monotony of it all is well
worth it. We are not here to feel good about ourselves. Trust me when
I say there are much better ways to do that then join Peace Corps. No,
we are not here for us (as much as we actually are in the end). Our
time here is about moving forward. America and the West do not need
people like me just yet. The most productive I can be in the States is
to help get burgers to your plate faster (that's mostly a joke). But
Rwandan can really benefit from us. Not only can we bring our
educations, but we can start to condition Rwandans to see America and
the West for what it really is. America is not its military force. It
is not the democratic foundation or its politicians. Believe it or
not, America is not Barack Obama or 'Yes We Can.' America is its
people; you and I. Furthermore, America is and will be its Youth. If
the only thing I show these kids, these students, is that I am just
like them, then we all win.

I'll leave you with this quote that was in the Peace Corps/Rwanda
Volunteer newsletter that I think is pretty fitting for this post.
"Peace is a daily, a weekly, a monthly process, gradually changing
opinions, slowly eroding old barriers, quietly building new
structures. And however undramatic the pursuit of peace, that pursuit
must go on.'
-President John F. Kennedy, Address to the United Nations General Assembly, 1963

-DFTBA
Shawn

Re: Blow-Your-Mind Delicious (or How I Ended Up in South Africa Part II)

2011-10-02T11:19:00.001+02:00

After rolling across near-all of South Africa for 28 hours on a train,
I was as ready as ever to get off and get my real vacation started. I
held on to the rail as the train slowed and watched the other tracks
converge together as we approached Cape Town Station. The train had
barely stopped before I jumped down and made my way out of the
station. I was headed towards Long Street and the rest of my Peace
Corps vacation buddies.

But I had done my homework. I knew that Long Street was 4 block west
of the train station. I also knew that there was a Subway Restaurant
two blocks off Long Street just passed the hostel. Yeah, that
happened.

After getting my fill of Americana for the first time in nearly 10
months, I turned back and found Two Oceans Backpackers, where we would
be staying while in Cape Town. To my dismay, the rest of the crew were
not there (remember, their flight landed at about 9am in Cape Town)
but the receptionist informed me that they had come and gone and
hadn't said when they would return. I told her I was the last member
of their group and she showed me into the room.

Two Oceans is a pretty awesome place. Set above a small furniture
store, we had a fully-stocked kitchen and laundry room (which was in
the kitchen, how… European), a flat-screen TV with more channels than
Aaron and I could surf through in 10 days (we tried), a pool table,
hot showers, and a balcony overlooking the best and worst of Long
Street.

I tried to call Aaron using MTN (the cell provider in Rwanda who is
also a major provider in South Africa and, in fact, most countries in
Africa) and managed to eat through a few thousand francs on several
failed attempts. With nothing left to do but wait, I tapped into the
hostels wireless internet (oops, did I forget to mention they had
that, too?) and checked my email. While on Gmail, I noticed that
Danielle, one of Rwanda's resident Fulbright Scholars, was online. In
a moment of sheer brilliance (mostly on her part), she was able to use
the MTN Rwanda services to send me some phone credit while I looked up
on Google how to dial internationally from inside South Africa (which
is actually really tricky). With some more money and a plan, I was
finally able to get ahold of Deanne who, as it turns out, had just
sent Markey and Kerry into the hostel to find me. She remarked that
they were all just down the street 'with Emma and the car.' Wait,
what?

As it turns out, we knew a South African. Something like Matt's
brother had studied in South Africa and had had a local Teaching
Assistant of sorts. The whole connection was kinda lost on me. But
also as it turns out, Emma (our new friend) had a car. I grabbed my
jacket and booked it down the staircase while a guy on the hostel's
couch remarked offhandedly about two girls coming to look for me.
Outside, I spotted Markey and Kerry and caught up with them at 'the
car.'

The car was admittedly not very big. I peered inside and said hi to
Emma in the front and Aaron and Matt in the back, who were soon
scrunched in by Kerry and Markey. I climbed in the front and we took
off in search of a place to eat. It was several stoplights (what an
invention!) later before I realized something was amiss.
"Wait," I said, counting the people in the small car. "Where's
Deanne?" Aaron let out a laugh and Emma just grinned.
"Back here!" came Deanne's muffled reply. She was in the trunk.

We arrived at a local Mexican restaurant and, after letting Deanne out
of the trunk, headed inside. The place was filled with locals from the
nearby University. But these locals were also white, so as long as we
kept our mouths shut or didn't speak too loud, they'd never know.

Now, something peculiar happened as we sat down to order (maybe not
too peculiar, but a little out there for me). See, in Rwanda, I had
decided that I didn't like how I didn't like a lot of foods,
especially ones I had never tried. I had already vowed to challenge
these unknowns, but the variety of food in Rwanda is rather limited.
However, not so in South Africa. I had in front of me the perfect
opportunity to challenge my blind taste perceptions with 'exotic'
food. I don't remember exactly what I ordered that night, which might
be due to the two giant pitchers of margaritas we sucked down prior to
eating as a group, but I do remember that it was good.

With our livers on duty and our stomachs overly full, Emma drove us
back to Long Street and the hostel, where most of us were content to
simply crash and watch TV. Matt, however, had been in contact with
another local South African who had promised to take him out for a
drink. Not wanting to go alone, he invited the rest of the group. They
all had, however, just rediscovered Sports Center (something I had
done earlier that day) and were pretty complacent. So Matt and I
headed back down out onto Long Street and met up with our new new
friend (who also had two American study abroad students with him).
Side note, apparently it's legal to park on the corner of two streets
on the side walk cap in South Africa. Yeah, we did that. (As it turns
out, this isn't legal; it's just that no one pays traffic tickets in
South Africa.)

Our new new friend led us back onto Long Street were we walked into a
random building and got into the elevator (another great invention!).
At this point, Matt and I were both wondering what we'd agreed to when
the elevator opened and we found ourselves inside another hostel. We
walked down the hostel's hallways, through the kitchen and then
through an emergency exit door and up a flight of stairs. Our doubts
started to creep back in until we walked through the door at the top
of the stairs and found ourselves on the roof, where a quaint and
beautiful open-air bar was set up. College students shot pool, others
played foosball, and the beer was decently priced at 12 Rand (about
$1.75). Save for being on a roof overlooking the southern cape of
Africa, it was just like being back in the States (this is going to be
a reoccurring theme of the vacation).

We arrived at the Rooftop Bar (I have no idea what the real name of
the bar was [which will be another reoccurring theme of the vacation])
at about 10pm and were already feeling the margaritas from the Mexican
place (which I want to say was named Harry's). A few beers, games of
pool, and a foosball tournament later, Matt and I decided it might be
a good idea to call it and head back to Two Oceans. We checked our
watches. It was almost 1am. And that's Day 1.

Day two was one of our few days with absolutely nothing planned or
scheduled. Aaron and Deanne snuck away from the group for a day to
have a getaway in Simon's Town on False Bay, so Matt, Kerry, Markey,
and I awoke a little late (Matt and I more than the others) and met
Emma who drove us down the coast to a breakfast place that she loved.
After breakfast, our on-the-spot plan was going to be to try to climb
Table Mountain, but Emma convinced us to take advantage of her day off
and let her tour us around. We agreed without much hesitation (having
a car opens up so much more of Cape Town).

After breakfast, Emma drove across the cape towards False Bay. We
turned off the main road and ended up on the side of a decent sized
hill with awe-inspiring views of mountains on three sides and massive
False Bay on the other. Continuing on, we visited a winery where Emma
used to work and tasted some wine (there's just something about
drinking wine at noon…) before heading into Muizenburg.

Muizenburg is one of the premier surfing spots in Cape Town and, even
though it was 'winter' and therefore a little cold (but nothing like a
good Minnesotan winter), was rather active. We swung into Knead, a
restaurant well-known for its bread and pizza and had even more great
food. Sorry, nothing too 'exotic' at this meal. Emma had some work to
so she dropped us back off at Long Street. After a swing-in to the
hostel while the sun set, we headed out for a Long Street pub crawl.

We started out at the Dubliner, an obviously-themed Irish pub with
nightly live music. The music that night, however, was a not-so-decent
set of 90's covers. We finished our Guinness' quickly and ducked out
to avoid going insane. Too bad; we had heard great things about the
Dubliner although it wasn't our last experience with it. The Dubliner
having been our only real recommendation, we resided to walking down
Long Street until we found a place that looked intriguing. 3 blocks
later we spotted what appeared to be a rather fancy Italian place
where the tables were all set in a front yard of sorts under massive
oak trees. What better place to laugh and drink?

Pleased with the atmosphere and the humorous waiter, we asked him
where we should go next for drinks. He recommended another place just
a few more blocks up Long Street that also had good drinks (it was
also coincidentally owned by the same company). Cool Atmosphere Place
#2 was cool for completely different reasons and it was difficult to
see how both restaurant s could be owned by the same group. CAP #2
(the whole Peace Corps acronym things is rubbing off, I guess) was
almost like a scene strait out of Moulin Rouge. The wait staff were
all in vaguely Bohemian dress, all of the inside tables had rope
swings instead of chairs, the outside was stucco-white with brown wood
trim and growing vines. Another round of drinks later, in which Kerry
was convinced there was no gin in hers and the bartender congratulated
her on her ability to take alcohol because he swore he put more than
usual in it, we were on our way back down Long Street to investigate
some places we passed up.

Next up was a random bar that offered R10 (that means 10 Rand) vodka
shots of questionable quality. We ducked in for a minute for the
novelty of the literally hundreds of kinds of horrible vodka. That
place is mostly memorable partially because of their tip jar. It was
hung from a rope behind the bar by about 6 feet with a sign taped to
it that claimed that anyone who could throw a R2 coin into it would
get a free shot. What we didn't know what that as soon as Markey was
getting ready to toss the coin I gave her, the bartender reached up
and swung the bucket in quick circles. Markey still took her shot and
sunk it on the first try. And we'd already been drinking for several
hours.

After the novelty wore off, the general consensus was food. We
remembered a place we'd past up earlier that wasn't too far from our
hostel; Pickwick's. We walked in and, even at midnight, had trouble
finding a place to sit. Finally snagging a picnic table on the
upstairs balcony, we asked the waitress if they still served food,
which was apparently a stupid question because 'everybody knows
Pickwick's serves food until 4:30am.' I am not making that up.

Pickwicks was also our first encounter with spiked milkshakes. That's
right, milkshakes with alcohol in them. After a massive burger (I
PROMISE we'll get to the interesting food soon) and a Jack Daniels
shake that didn't taste like alcohol at all, we were ready to crash.
Good thing the hostel was only 2 block away. No TV this night.
Straight to bed.

Day 3 Matt and I concocted a new plan. Seeing as we canceled the
previous day's plans to summit Table Mountain, we decided today was
the day. Matt and I set out just before 6 with crude directions from
Emma as to how to get to the trails that would take us up. Our
original plan was to hike up the mountain, revel at the top, then take
the cable car back down midday. Admittedly, we had no idea what we
were doing.

Our first attempt at getting to the Mountain was met with the locals
laughing at how we were in the wrong part of town. We quickly
regrouped, asked for clarification, and walked back past the hostel
and to the train station, where we caught a 15 minute train to the
opposite side of the Mountain and started walking towards the summit.
The trail (at least what we were convinced was the trail) switched
back and forth across this side of the Mountain before turning strait
up and heading into a place I swear was called 'Dead Man's Ravine.' I
had experienced nothing like the steepness of this ravine since being
in Scotland…

Finally dragging ourselves onto level ground, we found ourselves in
The Devil's Saddle. Aptly named, if you ask me. We had another
climbing council and decided we could still make it up to the actual
top of Table Mountain and to the cable car (which we could now see for
the first time) and back down in time to keep our original meet-time
with the girls. We set out to the south and began climbing towards the
actual Table Mountain, which from the Devil's Saddle requires class 3
scrambling (hands and feet most of the way). 45 minutes later, Matt
and I stopped before a 100 meter cheer cliff wall. As it turns out,
it's almost impossible to climb from the Devil's Saddle to Table
Mountain. With the summit taunting us the whole way, we escaped back
down into the Saddle, off the south side of the Mountain, and strolled
back into Cape Town.

We met Markey and Kerry at the train station and hopped on a train to
Simon's Town, where we were meeting Aaron and Deanne. An hour later,
we all met up at a decent restaurant in Simon's Town for lunch. Given
that Matt and I had just tried to summit Table Mountain (even though
we failed) and they only had one line fish special left (which Aaron
claimed dibbs on), we both opted for a two-burger special. 2 bottles
of wine for the table later (which included a bottle of Goats Do Roam,
a play on words with the famous French wine ________) and we were all
pretty happy.

Finally, the day's main event: Penguins. Yes there are penguins in
South Africa. I forget exactly what kind of penguins they were, but
I'm pretty sure they're the only penguins indigenous to a place that
is a block of ice. They inhabit a protected beach about half a mile
south of town which allows tourists and penguin enthusiasts alike to
observe them via boardwalks set a few feet above the sand. The park
staff warned us that these penguins will bite you if you get too
close, something the group ahead of us didn't listen to. After seeing
that, I really had no desire to attempt to pet a penguin.

Up next we had a dilemma. The last train back to Cape Town left at 7pm
and it was already 4:30. We were all really excited for seafood dinner
in Simon's Town, but knew we would never make the train. Aaron came
through in the end and called a local driver (who was supposed to take
Deanne and him fishing the previous day if it weren't for the high
winds) who agreed to drive us back later.

With that set we headed to a place nicknamed 'The Naked Chef.' To our
initial dismay, the Naked Chef wasn't working that night (although as
it turns out he just cooks shirtless), but we were assured his
full-clothed son was just as good of a cook. As we waited for our food
to come, we notice a bakery across the street, where most of us
discovered donuts and assorted pastries for the first time since
America.

Dinner that night got a little… filling. Now, I've never really been a
seafood person (at least not beyond fish and shrimp poppers) but
tonight was MY night. After perusing the menu, Aaron and I decided to
order together: one kilogram (about 2.2 pounds) of ribs and one kilo
(again 2.2 pounds) of Prawns. Now, if you're like me, you have no idea
exactly what prawns are. Think of them as oversized shrimp. Or if
you've ever seen 'District 9' (where the aliens are nicknamed 'Prawns'
due to their facial resemblance to the food), my plate reminded me of
the scene where they open the mothership and all of the aliens are
lying about starving to death. Not the best way to start a meal. Also
up for consumptions was a small portion of calamari (I have no idea if
that how you spell it or not). I wasn't the biggest fan mostly due to
its rubbery texture, but Kerry assured me that good calamari doesn't
taste nearly as rubbery.

Luckily, you don't normally eat the heads which were visually the most
obnoxious part. Aaron showed me how to crack open the shell and
removed the head and tail. I do have to admit, the prawns were pretty
good. The waitress quickly came over and showed us how to remove the
heads in such a way that all of the brain-juice stayed inside, which
she insisted was the best part. Hesitant to believe her, Aaron and I
tried it. Aaron was a much bigger fan of the prawn brain juice than I
was. Can't win 'em all…

The ribs were admittedly nothing 'exotic' to me but were still pretty
damn good. Like falling off the bone good. With over 4 and a half
pounds of food (not including the salads and fries), Aaron and I were
doing pretty good when he dropped to help Deanne finish her food. He
came back, though, to help me top them off which was good because my
stomach was about to burst…

Day 4 brought us east of Cape Town to what we'd all be waiting for:
shark diving. Our diving company's van picked up in at Two Oceans
ridiculously early in the morning and shuttled out about 2 hours east
to Gaasbei (that's not how you spell that, I'm sure). As we pulled
into the parking lot, the driver (and later on our Dive Master)
pointed out the boat we'd be taking out in a little bit. Aaron
careened his neck to be able to see it out the window and just shook
his head. "We're going to need a bigger boat."

3 waivers and $247 later, we boarded the boat and chopped our way away
from shore. The tour company had had a group out previous and let the
cage tied to a buoy. This had the added effect of having sharks
already lingering around the cage for us. When we arrived, the crew
strapped the small cage to the boat and began to chum the water while
we donned wetsuits and facemasks.

The cage was wide enough for about 5 people shoulder-to-shoulder and
left just enough room for you to almost be able to fully extend your
arms. Once inside the cage, the crew slipped a weighed sash over our
shoulder that was desgined to lower us a few extra inched below the
surface once we let go of the hang-on bar. We had no SCUBA devices, no
snorkels, no breathing apparatuses at all. When a shark passed by the
cage (lured by the bait the crew would throw out and then pull back in
at the last minute), the Dive Master would yell 'DOWN!' and we'd all
let go of the hang-on bar. While visibility was really good above the
water, once you were submerged it dwindled to about 4 and a half feet.
We'd usually get under the water just in time to lose sight of the 17
foot Great White Shark, only to have it instantly appear in front of
our faces and turn to swim alongside the boat, wondering where the
tuna heads had gone.

We were told not to be afraid of the sharks. First of all because
sharks generally know that humans have alotta bones and not much
energy-rich meat. Also because, while they were capable of detecting
us moving inside the cage, they overwhelming sense of the cage's metal
was more prevelant to them than our form. They know what a boat is and
know it isn't alive. They then associate the big metal thing with
moving parts as a part of the boat, and therefore not alive. This
sounds great until you are quite literally staring one of these things
in the face. On top of that, these massive sharks we were seeing (we
had 7 total) were mere adolescents. They are curious about the boat
and merely intrigued by the bait (they know dead fish don't provide
much energy), which is why they come to the surface. Their wiser and
older (and much bigger) friends stay beneath the surface where the
prey is better.

After getting our fill of the sharks and fighting our way through
4-meter high swells, we made it back to land, dried off, and were
shuttled back towards Cape Town. On the way, we stopped at another
small bay to try to spot a few whales. We could see them in the water,
but they were far enough out that we wouldn't have been able to tell
what they were had the drive/dive master/tour guide not told us what
they were.

That night we went out for dinner at a burger joint as a group. Aaron
and Matt sampled some of the local beers while the rest of us opted
for more spiked milkshakes. First up was a Jack Daniels with Peanut
Butter. I almost died. Most of us got burgers that night, and while my
lamb burger was pretty spectacular, Aaron took the cake with the Fat
Bastard. I can't remember what was all in there, I just remember there
being 4 different kinds of meat and being surprised that Aaron didn't
have a heart attack then and there. But I think I took the dessert
cake (hehe…) with my milkshake concoction of Oreo, chocolate brownie,
and Kahlua. For the win.

Day 5 brought us once again out of Cape Town and into the Stellenbosch
wine region to the north where we had arranged no less than 4 wine
tours. Throughout the day, we dried more wines (and cheeses, too!)
than I think I have ever seen in my life. I still would never claim to
be an expert on wine, which is why I really cannot go into specifics.
We were treated to a steak lunch by our awesome tour guide between the
third and fourth vineyards. By the time we piled back into the van to
return to Cape Town, we each must have had a solid 8 glasses of wine.
It was then that Aaron busted the road wine…

Day 6 was supposed to be one of our relaxation and no-planning days in
Cape Town. Unfortunalty, it was alos our last day in Cape Town. Emma
returned to take us to this amazing food festival. If you're ever in
Cape Town, I would highly recommend it. Although I cannot remember its
name…

We arrived early morning and feasted on waffles, truffles, oysters,
cheese steaks, pizzas, beer, chocolate liquor out of tiny chocolate
cups, and many other fantastical things I cannot remember. At one
point, I couldn't find any of the others and sat down with a massive
chocolate and cream Oreo-esk puff ball to wait it out. Just as I
finished it, I noticed a wine shop offering free wine tastings and
talks with the Wine Master. I knew then and there I had found Aaron
even before I walked in.

We headed back towards town, where the girls decided to do some
last-minute shopping before dinner that night. Us guys headed to an
Irish pub (let's call it O'Malley's) to drink expensive whiskey none
of us could pronounce the name of and watch the end of a cricket
match. That as my second time watching Cricket (the first in Scotland
for a full 4-hour game) and I must say I still have no idea what the
hell was going on. We waited around a little bit for the rugby match
to start (South Africa was playing to qualify for the world
tournament). Rugby is one of the most brutal yet awesome sports I have
ever seen and I have to say Aaron and Matt and I really got into it
towards the end.

For the main event, we all went to one of Cape Town's well know sushi
restaurants. Yes, you read that correctly. We went for sushi. And I
ate sushi. With chop sticks. I have pictures to prove it. Later that
night we had heard that Pickwicks would be having karaoke. We decide
it would be cool to go as a group, drink some more spike milk shakes,
and sing a few songs. Matt was the only one brave enough to sing…

In the morning, the rest of the group scrambled out of bed early to
catch their plane to Johannesburg, where they would spend the day. I,
on the other hand, had another date with a train. As I found out on my
return trip from Cape Town to Johannesburg, me initial trip was rather
lucky; we were only 20 minutes late.

At about 3 in the morning, I was awoken for the most peculiar reason;
the train was NOT tossing me from side to side. Peering out the
window, I could see we were in the middle of nowhere, stopped. For 8
hours.

We would find out later that a section of the track was without
electricity, meaning our fancy new electric engine couldn't carry us
across it. So we had to sit and wait for a diesel engine to work its
way down the line, grab us, and tow us across the dead section. It was
an interesting show to watch the European man in the cabin with me
freak out on the train manager (who had slept through 'the incident').
Because of the delay, we pulled into Park Station in downtown
Johannesburg at 9:30pm instead of the schedule 1:48pm. Not sure why
they bother being so precise if the trains are always late…

The group had stayed with Bash (a friend ofEmma's) and her parents the
night before and had to be at the airport for a 1am flight. Unsure if
I really wanted to hang out in the airport for 12 hours until my
flight, I caught a taxi to the 'burbs were Bash lived and met up with
the group for an amazing dinner (including more South African Wine).
After dropping the others off at the airport, I had a full-sized bed
that was HEATED. Yeah.

in the morning, Bash had to duck out early, so her mother forced me to
eat some breakfast and drove me to the metro station, where I was able
to catch a downtown train to the airport, board my plane, and return
to Rwanda. But not after 8 hours in the air and 6 hours in various
airports.

And that's How I Ended up in South Africa.

The Spur in the Moment (or How I ended up in South Africa, Pt 1)

2011-09-07T14:38:00.001+02:00

Let's Tarentino this thing: I'm writing this from inside the airport in Nairobi, Kenya on my way to Cape Town, South Africa. Hook, Line and Sinker…

The whole story starts with a meeting, as all good stories should. In Peace Corps, we have what we call a Volunteer Advisory Committee, or a VAC (there's the Peace Corps acronym thing again). Essentially, the VAC's job is to facilitate communication between Peace Corps Staff and the Volunteers on the ground. Volunteers in Rwanda are broken up into 10 regions based around our Emergency Action Plan's consolidation points (where we go in case of a natural disaster, civil unrest, or when Peace Corps staff runs out of things to do and decided to run a drill). We have regional meeting every month or two, and we choose a VAC Representative to represent the Volunteers of their region. My consolidation point is Huye; the largest region at 20 Volunteers. Last month, I became the VAC Rep for the Huye region (This is going somewhere, I promise).

The VAC gets together once a quarter for a day-long meeting to discuss the issues raised by the Volunteers. It was for this reason that I found myself in Kigali last Thursday, eating amazing pasta salad and drinking beer at our Country Director's house. Too fast? Let me slow down a bit.

Our meeting was set to start at 9:30am on Thursday, and since I am about 4 hours from Kigali (on a good day), I got permission to come into Kigali on Wednesday afternoon. Chelsea parents were on vacation visiting her here, so I dropped by Nyamagabe (where Chelsea's new school is) on Tuesday to hang with them for a while before they headed off on their safaris. Wednesday afternoon they dropped me back in Butare after touring a few museums and I caught a bus to Kigali and the glory of a hot shower and couches. Thursday morning the 10 VAC Reps and the 3 Interim Representatives met at Mary's (our Country Director) house. We were warned that the meeting would be long but I don't think any of us were prepared for what that really meant. 10 hours, 2 meals, and 2 rounds of beer later, we wrapped the meeting up and headed back to the Office for a just-as-long nap.

Friday morning I was supposed to go home, but I got roped into staying another night to help with a secondary project (read: begged them to add me to their list so I could have just one more hot shower). Friday afternoon several of use went out to Sol Le Luna, an amazing Italian place with the best pizza in Rwanda (also pretty close to the most expensive) before regrouping with the mass of PCVs and heading to Papyrus, a nightclub not too far from the office. You remember Papyrus? The last Tale about the 15,900 tab and why Chelsea had to buy me a tequila shot. We didn't arrive at Papyrus until near 11, but the party had just barely started. If you thought I was going to divulge was happens with 25 PCVs and alcohol are mixed with late nights and auto-tuned music, think again. We finally tuckered-out around 3 and caught taxis back to the office. Most of the Volunteers had to be up for the meeting at 8, but not I.

While the now 30 or 40 so Volunteers sat upstairs in a conference room, I sat downstairs and watched half a season of How I Met Your Mother. Productive afternoon. Saturday night I ended up downtown with several other Volunteers, where we hung out a juice bar (not that kind of juice bar). Rumor was Kitoko, one of the more well-known Rwandan musician who sings a song called 'Bella' (look it up!) would be at a small dive in downtown Kigali to play a show at about 9pm, so we decided to hang around town until then and try to catch the show. While at the juice bar, I got roped into actually participating in the secondary project I had used as a cover to stay another day (they're doing English training for Judges and are wanting to launch an online component…) by Ellie.

Now, here's where things start to turn South (literally, not in a metaphorically bad way). The following Friday (the 5^th of August) I was supposed to head to Uganda for a friend's wedding. Actually, that friend is Steve-Charles, my roommate during training and fellow farsider. The problem is, Peace Corps really didn't want him to go through with the wedding (although this was only the ceremonial wedding, no legality involved) mainly because of visa reasons. I was discussing this with Aaron (one of the Married Men (his wife is Deanne, you'll meet her later)) who is on the VAC as well. He kind of looked at me strange and asked me to recap the vacation plans. It was then that I saw his concern. During the VAC meeting, we had had a 2 hour discussion on exactly why we were not allowed to go to Kampala (the capital of Uganda), although my vacation would only take me as far north as Mbarara, a place we were allowed to go, I began to see several issues with my plan. Aaron checked himself and mentally stepped back

"I should stop talking before I talk you out of your vacation" he says. Deanne, his wife, nods in agreement and chuckles. In a split decision, I acted rashly (or geniusly, depending on how which side of South Africa you look at it) (Sidenote: I guess 'geniusly' is not a word. Guess it's a good thing I don't teach English). I press Aaron to continue; I really wanted to know what he thought.

"Let me tell you why this is the worst idea you've ever had" he leans forward and begins to tick off on his fingers. "You want to go to a place Peace Corps doesn't really want you to go..." One. "...to a wedding Peace Corps doesn't want to happen…" Two. "…with your ex-girlfriend." Three. He leans back a folds his hand, his face an equal blend and concern.

"When you put it like that…" I think.

"You should just come to South Africa with us, we leave next Sunday." I scoff.

"There's no way Mary will approve that. International travel halfway across Africa with a six day notice?" Deanne smiles and Aaron retorts with a bet that I can. "Mary loves you."

"Tell you what," I sit back and think it over. "I'll call Mary tomorrow and ask to move my vacation. If she approves it and I can find a decent plane ticket, I'm in.

And that was that. In the morning I called Mary, who, to my utmost surprise, approved the changes with no hesitation. All that was left was to get a plane ticket. I hung out at the office until Monday morning when I could get access to my credit cards from the safe and hit up the travel agents downtown to find a decent ticket. With a ticket booked (but not yet paid for), I had to head back to Cyahinda. I'd already been in Kigali for six days and desperately needed some alone-time. Its amazing how quickly that kind of things become normal.

On Thursday (we're up to August 4^th now), I had to head back to Kigali to work on a new secondary project with Keira. About 2 months ago I had a 'great' idea (it was really more like a frustration). IN order to teach my ICT classes, I have to reference 8 different textbooks all with varying levels of correct-ness and ease of use. I decided then and there that I was going to do something about that. Not by trying to find a better textbook in Kigali, but by writing one myself.

The next thought through my head was just how much work such a thing was probably going to be. I probably should have been discouraged, but instead I called Keira, who also teaches ICT, and asked her if she was interested in helping. She agreed it was a 'great' idea and that we should begin immediately. Two months later, we had the basic foundation and permission to start our work on Project SABRE. The name has a little bit of back-story. When we were discussing what exactly we wanted to do, Keira and I simply referred to it as 'the resource.' This got a little dull after a while and we began brainstorming new names, which turned out to be on the same level of difficulty as writing a textbook. Therefore, I codename for the time being is Project SABRE, where SABRE stands for Super Awesome But Really Exhausting.

So Keira and I met in Kigali and Friday and Saturday to nail down more specific formats for writing this thing and a general timeline to accomplish our work (we also REALLY wanted more hot showers). Needless to say, after two days of that I was ready for a 10-day vacation for sure. So with my bags all packed and goodbyes and jealous stares in order, I left for the airport at midnight on Sunday for my 3AM flight.

Now, because I tacked onto this trip a little later than the others (which included the Aaron and Deanne, Matt, Kerry, and Markey), my travel was a little different than theirs. While they were flying out Sunday afternoon and flying all the way to Cape Town, I was not. The flight from Kigali first took me to Nairobi, Kenya, and then jumped to Johannesburg, South Africa. Once in OR Tambo airport in Johannesburg, I met up with a private car I had hired a few days previous to take me to Park Station, where a train was waiting to take me all the way across the country to Cape Town.

Little known fact: South Africa is larger than Texas and California combined. Therefore, my trainride took about 28 hours. While I had left Rwanda before the other, they beat me to Cape Town by about 4 hours on Monday. But I won the scenery-war. What's that? A whole flock of pink flamingoes? Check.

So that brings us up to Monday the 8^th and we were in South Africa until the 15^th. Don't think I'll derive you of all the amazing details; I just need a few more days. Look for Part 2 of this post in a few days…

Kigali Peace Marathon

2011-06-03T12:08:00.001+02:00

A few Reminders:

1) Although many of you receive these blogs from me via email, they are also being archived on the blog itself. It can be found at shawngrund.blogspot.com. Look there for all past blogs (even going as far back as Scotland 2009!)

2)      Yes, my email changed. You can now reach me via email at this address (grun0177@gmail.com) by simply replying to this email (rest assured, it will only come to me and not everybody on the email list)

3)      If you do wish to reply to what I say, you can email me directly (which will be private) or you can comment on the website (once again, shawngrund.blogspot.com), although this will be public.

4)      If you do NOT wish to reply to what I say well, can't help you with that one.

5)      Yes, I do maintain a Twitter account. It can be found @LivingInRwanda. I try to use it as a way to do daily updates on anything from what I'm doing to random thoughts to what it's like being a Peace Corps Volunteer. Essentially, it's a mini-blog.

6)      I also maintain a Picasa Photo site. Check it out for photos from Training, my new house, Lake Kivu, and visits around Rwanda. It can be found at: http://picasaweb.google.com/grun0177/PeaceCorpsRwanda#

Over the weekend of May 21^st and 22^nd, Kigali put on the 7^th annual Kigali Peace Marathon. Given that 2011 is the 50^th anniversary of Peace Corps, our Country Director decided to support several runners in the marathon.

Now, I think it goes without saying that there was no way I was going to run 26 miles. I mean, let's be honest: I tried to train for the month leading up to this, but it really cut into my sleep time. Instead, I joined one of our 7 relay teams, meaning I was only responsible for a quarter of a marathon, around 6 and a half miles. Much more realistic

The Marathon took place on Sunday, but Peace Corps brought us all (or told us to come via public transportation) to Kigali Saturday morning. Our Peace Corps office recently acquired an adjacent building and just finished remodeling it into new medical offices and a Case de Passage (that's French for I really am not sure what; we just call it the Hostel). While the new med offices were still waiting on more beds for the infirmary and the Case had no mosquito nets, we were allowed to spend our nights in Kigali there.

The Case was designed to comfortably accommodate 30 volunteers at once, although given Peace Corps standards of comfort we could probably put 50+ volunteers there and had no complaints. I mean, there are decent mattresses, electricity, running water, couches, a DVD player and TV, porcelain toilets, showers (WITH HOT WATER), and a kitchen with a stove, oven, and refrigerator (although we still have to make our own food). Rolling into the Peace Corps Office early on Saturday morning, I dropped my bags and immediately headed back downtown to run some errands. It was difficult not to immediately take a shower, but I figured I'd be getting dirty on Sunday anyway, so decided to forgo that for the moment. Chelsea also ended up in town for the weekend as she had some issues she wanted to discuss with our Programming staff.

Saturday night our Administrative Officer (they have a new acronym of the position, something like DPT) held a massive carbo-loaded dinner at her house for all participants. I know I have never seen so much magnificent (and healthy) food in Rwanda, but I might dare say ever in my life. Either way, it's definitely in the top 5. We had pasta, garlic break, salads, olives, guacamole and chips, beer (ok, not ALL healthy), desserts with real, non-frozen or preserved raspberries, and many more things my taste buds wish they could remember.

Sunday morning it was up bright and early (well, not bright; it was 5 am) in order to get ready for the marathon, tape for feet against blisters, and load the buses that would take us to Amahoro (Peace) Stadium, where the marathon would start and end. In true Peace Corps style, we arrived at 7am when the race was set to start at 8 am. It started at 9.

All told, Peace Corps sponsored 22 Volunteers and 6 staff members to run on 7 relay teams, 4 half-marathon runners, and 1 full-marathon runner (shout out to Steve Charles Cahill, the only one brave enough to even try). The relay teams would embark in waves, meaning that the one running the second leg couldn't leave until the first runner finished. I was slated to run second, so I had some extra time to stretch and get ready.

By the time Kelsey, my teammate who ran first, made it back I was feeling pumped. Feeling like true hard-care athletes, I was waiting to untie the tracking chip from her shoelaces while she caught her breath before it was off. Another Peace Corps Relay runner came in at about the same time and switch with Kay, so she and I ran off together.

While Kigali is pretty hilly, the route we took was not so bad. The course took us out towards the Nyatarama neighborhood before turning around and following the same route back to the stadium, or so we thought. Kay and I made pretty good time for the first 'half,' only getting passed by the full marathon runners. You know, the 95 pound machines from Kenya. Just before the turnaround, we passed the Peace Corps office and were more than a little disappointed to not see the non-participating Volunteers who happened to be staying at the Case out front. We soon found out that they weren't there because they were 5 minutes further down the route at the turnaround, fully prepared to cheer us on. The gate guards at the Office did wave and cheer on our way back, too.

Kay and I reached the turnaround, what we thought was the halfway point (that makes sense, right?) in about 17 minutes. If it were the halfway point, like we thought it was, I had just set a personal best for a 5k run. Needless to say, that was not the halfway point. We figures that out at about the 30 minute mark, when the route deviated onto a side street and started heading away from the stadium. It was around minute 35 that I had to let Kay go; she was doing much better than I was. I slowed down for maybe 5 minutes but kept Kay in my sights until near the stadium. In the end, I entered the stadium and circled the track at just about 58 minutes. Not the best time ever, but still pretty decent I feel.

After a quick tag and chip-swap with Emmanuel, our new Health Program Manager, I was a bottle of water and three bananas away from never moving again for the rest of my life. After the marathon, the buses returned us all to the Peace Corps office where we laid in the grass, sat on couches, slept, or anything else that didn't require movement of the legs. Come nightfall, Chelsea and I headed out to a Chinese restaurant (yes, they have those in Kigali) for a quiet night out by ourselves. A weekend in Kigali will make you forget just how much you've gotten used to the loneliness of site.

Stay tuned for another update coming soon about a visit to Chelsea's site (you don't really have to stay tuned; this isn't radio and I'll probably send that post out right after this one)

-DFTBA
Shawn

PS. 'Case de Passage is french for House of Passage, ie Hostel. I think. If your French is better than mine; no judging.

The Visit

2011-06-03T12:06:00.001+02:00

This one'll be a long one, so grab a beverage and something to eat; you might be here a while.

2 weeks ago, I posted a blog that I had been working on for some time called 'The Dark Side of Peace Corps.' Since then, I have received numerous comments and emails from friends, family members, Peace Corps Applicants, Nominees, Invitees, Volunteers, and Returned Volunteers (I even got a call from our Peace Corps Country Director…that was fun). In response to these, I wish to thank you for your concern, thoughts, prayers, and wishes in general. Also, it was never my intention to dissuade prospective Volunteers from Service. Peace Corps is a wonderful opportunity that I personally feel should be seized if presented, even though I still maintain it is not for everyone. If you're thinking about applying or in the process, understand that these words were meant to be enlightening and… other positive things.

A few weeks ago, I took a few personal days to visit Chelsea in Burera/Kirambo. Those of you with a map handy will see that Nyaruguru, my district, is almost in Burundi while Burera is almost in Uganda, meaning our two sites are clear across the country from each other (even if it is a rather small country). Peace Corps has many travel policies, one of which is that I'm not allowed to travel at night. It can complicate things (especially when you have to teach half the day and then try to traverse the entire country), but it makes sense.

My journey to visit Chelsea started at 10am on Friday, just as my class wrapped up. Thursday night I had called one of my neighbors/friends, Hubert, who is a motorcycle-taxi driver, and arranged a ride to Butare, the first checkpoint of my voyage. I told Hubert that I wanted to leave just after my classes at 10. Now, Hubert only speaks Kinyarwanda and French and, despite my repeated attempts to convince him otherwise, thinks that I also speak French. After getting over that obstacle, I conveyed to Hubert that he should be ready to pick me up at my house by 10. What does Hubert do? He rides up to the school, asks where I am, and parks outside my classroom at 9:45. My students thought that was hilarious.

After detouring past my house to switch bags, it was off to Butare. The road between my village and Butare is a little… dichotomous. For the first 14 kilometers, which takes about 35 minutes, the road is gravel, washed out, and in generally horrible shape. However, the 'road' soon meets up with the Main Road, which is paved, has painted lanes, and speed-limit signs. We follow the tarmac north for about 20 kilometers (20 Minutes) before pulling into Butare.

Once in Butare, my next task involves getting a seat on a 'coach' bus to Kigali, the capital of Rwanda. The nice things about these buses is that everyone gets an actual seat, which should tell you a lot about the lesser bus companies (hint: the smaller bus' name literally translates to 'squeeze'). Having made it to Butare around 11:15, I was able to reserve a seat on the 12pm bus, allowing me time to catch lunch at a local restaurant. The trip from Butare to Kigali takes somewhere from an hour and 45 minutes to 2 and a half hours, depending on how many trucks we get stuck behind. On this particular day, I reached Kigali at about 2:15.

Kigali is sort of the central hub for travel in Rwanda. No matter where I go, I almost have to travel through Kigali. In order to get to Kirambo, which is northwest of Kigali, I have to get off the bus at Nyabugogo instead of downtown and get another ticket for a different bus going to Base/Gakenke. Having gotten a ticket for 3pm, I board the filling bus and wait for it to depart. To my surprise, it actually left about 15 minutes early (which never happens). The road between Kigali and Base has been under construction for nearly 4 months now, so the normal 45 minute drive turns into a little over an hour and results in the woman sitting next to me vomiting into her dress. At Base, I trade the coach bus for another motorcycle ride over dirt roads for about 45 minutes before arriving in Kirambo just before 5pm, having been travelling for 7 hours and spent nearly 13,000 francs (about $22).

Friday night Chelsea and I made fries and guacamole at her house. Yes, I did eat guacamole. Yes, I am aware that it is made out of avocadoes and other vegetables I never would have eaten in America. I've been trying this new thing with Chelsea's help where I don't refuse to eat food I've never tried before. Those of you who knew me and my eating habits in the States would hands down say that I was a very picky eater. But I realized after I came here that I was convinced I didn't like things (like avocadoes) that I had never actually tried before. Having become uncomfortable with this, I asked Chelsea to help me break this habit and expand my tastes a little. Our first attempt at this, to my initial dismay, was the guacamole. I'm still going with I only liked it because Chelsea made it, but I'm willing to accept that it's not bad.

A good portion of my time spent at Chelsea's site (at least during the day) was spent at her school where we would sit and talk with students and eat meals with the teachers. Our time with the students involved Chelsea and Rodrigue, an accounting student, have a rather vivid disagreement over the purpose of Tai Chi, teaching them English slang like 'booty' and 'bromance,' and playing a makeshift game of catch using my hat and our heads. Romalice and I actually got pretty good, to the point where we could consistently land the hat squarely on the others' head from about 25 feet away. Hey, it's harder than you'd think…

Kirambo has a rather large market (which is NOT a 45 minute walk spanning two valleys like Cyahinda's) on Saturdays, so Chelsea and I spent the day picking up food for an epic chili she was going to make and shopping for fabric to have dresses made out of (for her…I assumed that was obvious). Having no conventional stove, the chili had to cook over the charcoal stove (Imbabura) for a little over 3 hours, during which we continued our epic shenanigans with her students. After securing permission from her school's Dean of Studies, we were able to discreetly take a handful of her student back to help us eat the chili (we made waaaaay too much).

Chelsea's site varies from mine in a myriad of ways. For starters, her town, school, and house have power. This is kind of a game-changer as it allows things to be accomplished after 6pm and before 6am (although let's be honest: nothing happens prior to 6am even when we do have electricity). Since my region is devoid of power, I have to go to my school every night at 6:30 just so I can continue to plan my lessons (or do anything that involves more light than a candle or kerosene lantern can give off). In addition, her school is nearly dichotomous to mine. My school administration almost never interferes in my work (my headmaster's idea of ensuring I am productive is to ask me if I am 'ok' once a week), but they are also much more uptight in relation to the students. My students have at most 3 hours a day where they are not studying, and in that time they have to clean out the classrooms and dormitories. However, because Cyahinda is so remote and most of my students' families live in the area, the students are allowed to leave campus without permission (within reason) so long as they actually come back.

Chelsea's school, on the other hand, has a few more luxurious aspects than mine does. Because they have power, there is usually music played when class is not in session and movies on a few nights each week. They also routinely have dances (yeah, even in Africa teenagers have to go through that ordeal). However, perhaps because Kirambo is a bigger town, her students need permission to leave school grounds (which they are not usually granted). I'm going to try to say this next part as fairly as possible. The administration at Chelsea's school really likes to… interfere… with her ability to fulfill her primary responsibilities. Don't get me wrong, it's not the entire staff. Her Dean of Studies, Ferdinand is a relatively laid-back guy. We joined him and John, another teacher from the Teacher Training College in Kirambo, for dinner one night and they wound up helping us kill a liter of scotch (its ok, it was truly terrible tasting as far as scotch goes). But there are a few of her colleagues who do not really understand what a Peace Corps Volunteer is supposed to do, nor are they very receptive to learning.

All in all, the spending the weekend away from my site and relaxing with Chelsea was a lot of fun (not that there was any doubt it would be), and exactly what I needed. Sometimes, no matter how good or bad our work in our village is going, we just need to change things up a bit for a few days. Escaping my school and visiting Chelsea, even though it meant being drawn into another school, was a perfect getaway.

-Don't Forget To Be Awesome
Shawn

The Dark Side of Peace Corps

2011-05-08T09:42:00.001+02:00

I'll preface this blog with this: I'm not quite sure how this will turn out or what exactly I'll say. I would like to say, first of all, that this is not meant to be completely negative, pessimistic, or ominous. My intention in writing this is simply to show you a side of Service that few know about and even fewer can understand. Secondly, this is mostly unedited and free-flowing.

I've realized over the past few days that my blogs have been mostly event-oriented with any negative aspects of my Service completely neglected or sugarcoated over. This, coupled with the Peace Corps Policy mandating that Volunteers stay politically neutral and level-headed in any and all communication, has led to what you've been reading for six months now (Yes! It has been that long!).

When you're applying for Peace Corps, they tell you it is the hardest job you'll ever love. At the time, I'm sure none of us doubted it would be difficult, or that we'd love it (most of us, at least). We knew full well we would leave behind the relative comfort and richness of America for some poverty-stricken corner of the world. What we didn't realize is in just how many ways we were rich.

When we landed in Kigali six months ago, the immediate effects were simple. Sleep deprivation from a 14-hour flight, shock and realization at the physical reality of Rwanda. Physical discomforts. Getting stuck in the arm for some improbable disease. Sitting in an uncomfortable, hand-made wooden chair for another two agonizing hours. That moment of utter disbelieve that the last year of your life has culminated to this, to these trials and tribulations, these extreme extremes. The path that was ahead of us six months ago was, albeit long, an exciting one. One where every corner brought another new surprise, even after you felt like nothing would ever surprise you again after what you've seen. I like to think of this as a 'honeymoon' phase. We show up here, having idolized and idealized what this life would be like. We (I) had these ideas of grandeur, of sleeping on dirt floors, bathing in rivers, being the 'cool' Peace Corps Volunteer who had been there, done that, and lived every awesome experience you could possibly imagine.

The first riches we had stripped away were not these physical comforts we see as 'necessitates' in the States. The first things we lost were the things it would ultimately take us the longest to realize they were riches in the first place. Prior to landing in Rwanda, my training group 'staged' in Philadelphia. Prior to flying off into an African sunset, I stood in the airport in Minneapolis and did what I now understand to be one of the hardest things in my life. I stood there, literally the final boarding call for Philadelphia and the Peace Corps being called throughout the terminal, and had to look my kid sister, my father, my mother, my whole family, essentially my whole world at that moment, in the face and tell them goodbye for 27 months. For them, there was no choice in their reality; they couldn't stop me from going. They had to accept the fact that I was leaving. On the other hand, I made the conscious decision to 'jump,' knowing full well that there would be no one to catch me, that, for the lack of a better metaphor, it was fly or die. They can write this off as 'he's doing what he wants to, he's making the world a better place, he's making a difference, he's doing this for a reason.' I, however, have to live day-to-day with the question of 'what the hell am I doing here?' No amount of soul-searching, and no measure of resolve, can completely stop this from happening.

When you join Peace Corps, you will be willingly subjecting yourself to certain things, 'extremes,' if you will. A lot of these will be physical. You will have insomnia. You will get sick. You will vomit on a routine basis. Chances are, you'll succumb to some disease (or three) that would have potentially been extremely serious if you hadn't paid attention during training, If you weren't given health care that far exceeds that given to your community members. At first, a full-night's sleep will seem impossible (especially if your country has a sizable Muslim community that cherishes 4:30AM prayer calls). This will change over time, but can (and will) revert to deprivation at the drop of a hat. You will sweat. You will cry (in the privacy of your own home, that's not usually kosher in public). You will bleed. You will marvel at the sheer amount of mucus your body can produce in six hours. You will be able to scrap the dirt, dead skin, and God knows what else off your arms with your fingers. Your hair will be absolutely disgusting (bring a hat), and there'll be more dead skin on your scalp than on your arms (if that's possible). And these are just the physical changes that will happen.

The far darker side is the mental effects. For all intents and purposes, you will feel more alone than you have ever been, felt, or dreamt of being in your entire life. Sure, you will be a 'member of your community,' insofar as a 20-something foreigner with a very limited knowledge of their language and even less understanding of their cultural norms can integrate into a community which is physically and emotionally homogeneous. Let me say again: You Will Cry. You will cry, you will want to curl up in your empty bed and scream for the 'simple' things in life. You will want somebody to hold you, to just wrap their arms around you and pull you into them. There will be days when you feel like you are empty inside, there will be days when you feel like going nuclear and destroying anything you can get your hands on, including your neighbors, students, colleagues, and yourself.

Talking with friends and family in the States helps, too. But only to a certain degree. Some days a call from mom or news from your brother is exactly what you need to persevere for another day. But you'll get this nagging feeling in the back of your mind that, for as much as they can say they understand, and as much as you'd love them to be able to, they cannot. Confiding in your parents, purging your emotions to your old friends, and talking to you loved ones can only get you so far. Sure, you can build up fantastic relationships with your community-members, you can get to know them pretty well, and you can confide in them and become really good friends with them. But in the end, they still cannot fully understand what you're going through because you do not share the same cultural connotations (just like between you and your family).

In the end, the logical place to turn to aid your emotional well-being is your fellow Volunteer. But, just like everything in Peace Corps, it is not that simple. Yes, these people understand what you deal with on a day-to-day basis. They were there during the 11-week trial that was Pre-Service Training. They, too, have chosen to fly or die. However, they are obviously dealing with their own problems, their own nuclear time-bombs about to detonate. And if you put yourself too far into the hands of another Volunteer and if you are unable to stop them from going nuclear, you'll get burned just as bad. When it comes down to it, regardless of how counter-intuitive this is, we all left behind the majority of things that made us happy when we came here. Once here, it becomes so tempting, so easy, to allow your happiness to rely on a single thing, a single person, a single ability. Then, just as you feared, that solitary thing that makes you happy and is what keeps you sane is gone. You will have the darkest, coldest winter in your life, even if you're 3 degrees away from the Equator. You'll learn you're lesson; that a life revolving around a sole object or concept it's a life devoid of any protection, lacking any real emotional security and that yes, for 6 months you might be able to play fast and loose and come out ahead, but the stakes will get too high, the game too rich for your blood. The House always wins in the end.

Peace Corps service is all about these extremes. As dark as it is, perhaps even masochistic on many levels, this is why we signed up, right? We tell ourselves we are here for some noble purpose, that we are not here to find ourselves but to lose ourselves. To change who we are at the very core. Make no mistake; Peace Corps will change you, hopefully for the better. But this is not for the faint of heart or the weak-willed. There will be times when you want nothing more than to quit, to say 'screw all of this' and go home, curl up on that comfortable couch, watch The Daily Show, eat as much food as you can see, and never move ever again. But what we are really here for is to take the punches, not to roll with them. Rolling with the punches assumes you can see them coming and avoid getting hurt. During Service, things will come from the left just as you were so preoccupied by what was to your right, slamming into your head and sending you sprawling. When you finally pick yourself up (and you always will), you'll look to the left just in time to see…nothing. Whatever knocked you down so hard was so minute, so trivial that it begs to be laughed at for even affecting you. Peace Corps service is a time when ants can topple giants. Most days you'll feel like the giant; on top of the world, having it all because you chose to be here. Then, BAM! An ant grabs you by the collar and roughs you up a bit. Then, after the ant's got the better of you a few times, you'll realize the truth. You are not a giant. You are an ant, and just like the ant brought you down, you can bring down your giants, the massive black holes that try to consume your heart and mind, that suck up all the positive energy in your life and spit it out as some unrecognizable, twisted, evil version of the world. I think that metaphor may have gone too far…

It is impossible to compartmentalize your emotions and feelings here. Attempting to bottle them up and put on your 'game face' will only make it worse. Those of us who claim to be expert compartmentalizers will simply be able to hold out longer, but they will eventually crack just like everybody else. At the same time, you cannot risk wearing your emotions on your sleeve. You have to allow the bad things to either roll off your back or limit their expression to the privacy of your own home all while actively seeking the positive things (the reasons we came here in the first place) and allowing them to seep in. Holding back your emotions in a situation like this makes implosion only a matter of time. Above having to cry, you will need to cry, sometimes for no reasons. Some days you will not want to get out of bed (and it's not because you're too comfortable, trust me), some days you will not be able to fall asleep no matter how many drugs you take or how early you have to teach in the morning.

The only constant in this life is that nothing is as it seems it was, is, or should be. If it feels like rain, put on sunscreen. If you feel on top of the world, bring a parachute. If they tell you classes start Monday, don't bother showing up 'till Thursday at the very earliest. Whatever you think will happen will not and no matter how creative your imagination is, you will consistently be baffled at what actually does happen, at the seemingly random occurrences and outcomes that meld together to blow your mind every night. Daily events will seem like something out of a bizarre dream, yet your new reality won't hold a candle to what your subconscious mind can now conjure up while you're sound asleep. Plus, I'm pretty sure our anti-Malaria medication (Mephloquine) is actually just a mild hallucinogenic designed to keep Peace Corps Medical Officers and Psychologists employed.

Peace Corps Service is a rollercoaster. There will be ups. There will be downs. There will be times when you feel like you are in free-fall and you start to question the engineer's decision to make the safety bolts for your restraints out of brass instead of stainless steel. You will feel like you will die. But you won't. The only guarantee is that you will rise up again, only to come rocketing back down until that day comes when you pull into the station and the only thought that pops into you mind is "Wow, what a ride.' Unless, of course, you're bowels weren't as strong as the rest of you. But, hey, Peace Corps for the stories, right?

-Don't Forget To Be Awesome
Shawn

PS: Don't take this too seriously. And for the love of God (sorry mom), don't question my physical, mental, or emotional well-being or sanity. What Peace Corps Volunteers world-wide need is to know that the ones they love are behind them all the way, not that you're worried. They need to know you are there for them and that, above all, you care about them.

Again and Again

2011-04-29T08:05:00.001+02:00

Two bits of news:

1) Email change: I've been having problems with my email account, so I
have switched to gmail. The new email address is grun0177@gmail.com
2) I have also discovered that I can update Twitter through text
message while here. While I was never really one for Twitter (who
chose the name, anyway?), I think it might be a good way for me to
send out small witticisms and the other random crap that comes into my
head. The username for my new twitter is @LivingInRwanda. I'll try to
post a link if possible. In the future, look for these messages to
also be tied to my facebook account. Hey, I'm an IT volunteer, what
exactly did you expect form me?

For once in the past 6 months, I feel like I'm actually repeating
something I've already done. Let me explain.

October, November, and December were Pre-Service Training (PST).
Although rather monotonous, they were brand new experiences that I
will (hopefully) never have to repeat. Not because it was bad, but
because it would mean Peace Corps Rwanda was shut down. January,
February, and March brought the first term of teaching, by almost
every account a new experience for me. April saw the first school
holiday and In-Service Training (a topic I'll get to in a minute).
Now, the last week of April and May, June, and the first week of July
brings the second semester. Finally, I feel like I've actually done
something before, know what I'm doing, and know what to expect.

The day before IST, the Volunteers in my area scheduled a regional
meet-up. In Rwanda, PCV's are broken up into roughly 7 'regions' based
around our consolidation points in case of a country-wide emergency or
PC evacuation. See, mom (and all other PCV mothers who happen to read
this), they do take our safety seriously. In fact, sometimes too
seriously, I feel (once again, in a minute). Peace Corps Rwanda Senior
Staff (aka Mary, our Director) has been encouraging us to start
monthly or bi-monthly regional meetings, so we took the opportunity to
escape a day early and meet up.

Even though Rwanda is a rather small country, it would still be
difficult to get out of our sites, have a regional meeting, then get
back without breaking at least 3 travel policies. For that reason, we
chose a PCV with a more 'posh' house so we could all spend the night.
Side-note, Peace Corps Rwanda sometimes gets referred to as 'Posh
Corps,' perhaps for good reason. While my site is not posh by most
standards, I have a rather sturdy house (it survived a 4.8 earthquake
a few weeks back) and access to normal, albeit bland, food. However,
there are PCV's that live in houses or complexes with several spare
rooms, flushing 'western-style' porcelain toilets, appliance-full
kitchens, and living room furniture. I can see why the post wouldn't
receive any awards for being 'hardcore' by Peace Corps standards.

You might be asking, "Shawn, what exactly do you guys do at a regional
meet-up? Discuss teaching methods? Trade horror stories? Talk about
how awesome you all are?" Well, we did do some of these things,
although with less griping than you'd think (I hadn't seen most of
these people in 4 months). True, we did have a formal meeting where we
discussed business. After an agonizing 35 minutes of that crap, we
went to the bar. Did you expect anything less? We still talked shop,
although with much less formality and way more enthusiasm (probably
due to the alcohol…is that a bad sign?). Needless to say, we
accomplished a lot more (professionally, at least) in the 35 minute
meeting that we did in the 4 hours at the bar.

In the morning, the handful of us Education (Group 2) Volunteers left
Nyamagabe, where we had our regional meet-up, for beautiful Kibuye on
the shore of Lake Kivu. Once again, even though Rwanda is small, it
still takes the better part of a day for travelling any good distance.
Maybe it's all those hills. Even though Kibuye is sub 100 kilometers
north of Nyamagabe, we had to take a 30 minute bus to Butare, a 2 hour
bus to Gitarama, and then a 2 and a half hour bus to Kibuye. If you
ever visit Rwanda for any reason, renting a private car would be a
VERY wise decision.

Prior to heading for IST, Peace Corps had told us it would be in
Kibuye at the Centre Bethanie. What they didn't tell us was how to get
to the venue, nor that it would take 45 minutes on foot to get there.
Had I known that, I wouldn't have packed so much. Centre Bethanie,
however, was well worth the walk. Situated on a peninsula with great
views of Lake Kivu (see Picasa for sunset photos), Bethanie was our
secluded paradise for a week. Peace Corps provided us lodging,
breakfast, and lunch every day. Dinner was on us in an attempt to
allow us to 'get out and see Kibuye,' although the 25 minute walk into
'town' and the lack of public transport made it rather difficult.

Similar to PST, we had several sessions each day, mostly led by other
PCVs or ourselves. The aim was simply to give us an easy and clear
forum to express concerns and discuss successes/failures at our sites
as well as to update us on some new policies and projects. At night,
well, what do you think happened? 64 20-somethings isolated in
paradise on a beach resort well-stocked with beer. The 6:30am wakeup
was brutal. The night before we left, Peace Corps took us by boat to
Amahoro (peace) Island, a small island just up the shore that is
popular with western tourists. Complete with hammocks, private
cabanas, their own cows, and enough beaches for all of us, we were now
truly on vacation. However, Peace Corps forbade us from swimming due
to one nasty disease or another in the water (oops), so the beaches
were more a slap in the face than anything else.

Now that school has started again, we're back into the swing of
things. Classes are underway, I have homework to correct, and I'm once
again being told that tomorrow will be the day we get power in
Cyahinda. While I doubt that, I did watch some workers string
electrical lines all day yesterday. Its only a matter of time now.

DFTBA
-Shawn

End of Term 1

2011-03-31T12:51:00.001+02:00

First off, I apologize for my relatively long absence. Things have been picking up speed here in Rwanda as the first school term comes to an end, and I haven't been able to make it out for internet in some time.

Speaking of school, first term classes officially ended on Thursday, March 17^th. Students take exams in every subject they have classes in, which under Ordinary Level (grades 7, 8, and 9) is about 13 exams. Advanced Level (grades 10, 11,12) is a little different because they do not all have the same classes. After 9-year basic education, classes take on 'combinations' which are essentially specializations. There are dozens of combinations for A-level, but most schools only offer a few at most. My school offers HEG ( History – Economics – Geography), MEG (Mathematics – Economics – Geography), and MPG (Mathematics – Physics – Geography).

Exams are broken into two categories: out-series and in-series. Almost all classes are on-series and only a few (namely ICT, French, Spiritual Activity, and Creative Performance) are out-series. Exams officially started Friday the 18^th with all out-series exams, including my ICT classes. The grading system for each class in based around marks, like points. Students get 10 marks for each class-hour per week on homework and another 10 for their final exam. This means that my 2-hour ICT classes get 40 marks total while my Mathematics class gets 120 marks.

In-series exams took place the following week and wrapped up yesterday (Friday the 25^th), but we're not done with the semester yet. Next week (the 28th-1^st) is the final week of term and is set aside for grading exams. Holiday officially begins the 2^nd of April, although many teachers (and students) will travel home before then.

The exams themselves are also something of an oddity. Students usually have between 2 and 3 hours per exam, although it rarely takes them that long. As English is the official language of instruction, all exams are also given in English (except, of course, French and Kinyarwanda). This leads to a few relatively minor complications as many students (and, indeed, many of my fellow teachers) have difficulty with proper English grammar and syntax.

NOTE: I hardly claim to be an expert on Kinyarwanda. As such, you should neither 'risk your life' nor 'bet the house' on the following information about Kinyarwanda.

One of the major difficulties my students (and again, the teachers as well) have with written English is punctuation, more specifically with sentence length. However, there is a rather logical explanation for this. While Kinyarwanda has a general syntax, it is almost devoid of punctuation except the occasional period. For example, the have a specific word to add exclamation to a thought, 'pe', and as such rarely use the exclamation point in writing Kinyrwanda. For example:

Go quickly. = Genda vuba.

And

Go quickly! = Gende vuba pe.

In addition, the conjugation of Kinyrawanda verbs combines all parts into one single word, meaning that simple English sentences can be expressed as a single word in Kinyrawanda. For example:

I am dancing. = Ndabyina (root verb 'kubyina' is 'to dance', remove 'ku-' and add prefix nda- (present continuous single))

And

You all crowd around and stare. = Bashungereye (root verb is 'gushengera', remove 'gu-' and add prefix 'ba-' (you all), suffix 'ra-' become 'reye-' (past tense))

Now you can begin to see the complexity of this language, although once you understand how to conjugate a root verb in the different forms, its' easy to pick out the objects of a verb, even if you have no idea what the verb is.

Because Kinyarwanda verbs are consolidated into one word (sometime the objects of the verb can even be made into infixes), and a Kinyarwanda sentence of 10 words can contain many different thoughts. Here's an example of an English sentence I found on a student's history test:

"The water is very important part to Roman people because everybody need water for cooking, drinking, washing and this water need to be near people so they could have it easy and this is why I say they made city near water.

(I find it ironic that as I typed that, spellchecker didn't flag any part of it as grammatically incorrect)

Besides a few minor subject-verb agreements (a whole other can of worms), this sentence expresses about 19 different ideas at the same time and should probably be streamlined and broken into several distinct sentences based around complete thoughts. You could probably write this sentence in Kinyarwanda using far fewer words (I'm not even going to try to translate it correctly).

One of the major non-linguistic challenges here in Rwanda is the previous (and sometime still on-going) reliance on rot learning (learning my strict memorization). For instance, I can recite the squares of the number up to about 16 just because I used rot learning to memorize them. Past 16, I need to start doing actually calculation in my head to find them. It isn't uncommon for a teacher to simply give a student his notebook and tell them to write the notes on the board and have the other students copy it down. The first few weeks of my math classes, it nearly blew the students' minds that I would actually explain a concept to them and re-explain if they didn't yet understand. They are so used to having to copy everything down (remember: no textbooks/ very very few textbooks) and trying to make sense of it later.

One of the ways this manifests itself in my ICT classes is in the way they answer their exam questions. For instance I defined Information Communication Technology as 'any tool used to send, receive, or process news, data, or information of any kind.' I then proceeded to explain the definition I a way they could readily understand. Even though they were able to paraphrase my definition in class, all 200 of my ICT students answered the exam question using the exact same wording I had given them with almost no deviation in word choice. While they scored well because this is, in fact, the definition I expected, I have no idea if they actually know what ICT means or if they simply fell back on their rot learning and memorized the pattern of words to answer the question.

I think I've mentioned before that Cyahinda, my site, has no power. Well, I now I have proof that this is about to change. Last week a fleet of industrial trucks rolled into my backwater town and started dropping power poles and erecting carriage towers. Still, the actual date the electricity will come depends on who you ask. The local Rwandans say 'tomorrow', my school staff say 'by the end of second term', but my mind just prays 'before December of 2012' (because that's when I'm scheduled to finish my service, not because the Mayans say the world will end, although the actual date I am expected to close service is awfully close to December 21^st…)

Speaking of which, I led my Senior 4 ICT class on a tangent a week or two ago about the solar system. Just as class was ending, it started to downpour outside and, seeing how Rwandans believe they'll melt if they get wet, my students insisted I stay until it lets up. While waiting, I noticed they had a poster on the wall describing the 9 planets and I dutifully informed them that our solar system actually has only 8 planets as Pluto was ruled to not count a few years back due to its irregular orbit, among other things. This, of course, blew their minds. A student then promptly raised his hand and asked, and I quote exactly, "why do all Americans think the world will in in 2012?" After a good laugh and informing them that not all Americans believe this, I gave them a crash course on the mechanics of the cyclical Mayan Calendar and a little insight into why some people believe ion the '2012 doomsday prophecy'.

Semester break starts on April 2^nd and runs until the 25^th. While there won't be any classes, and thus not much structure to my days here at my site, Peace Corps still wishes me to stay here as much as possible. Thankfully, I'll have what Peace Corps calls IST (In-Service Training), a week-long additional training event held during the last week of break. All 65 or so of us in my training group will reunite for this one week in Kibuye (on Lake Kivu to the west). Sure, there will be technical training and workshops to attend, but if Peace Corps thinks that there won't be any shenanigans, they're sadly mistaken.

DFTBA
-Shawn

2011-02-10T17:48:00.000+02:00

With school underway (well, mostly), I find myself becoming less and less bored at my site. I teach at a Catholic boarding school in the Nyaruguru District of Rwanda, which is on the Southern Province, just west of Huye/Butare, the self-claimed academic capital of Rwanda. I have to say Huye/Butare because the restructuring that Rwanda underwent around 2006. If you look at a map of Rwanda that is, say, 10 years old (like all the ones on my house), you’ll notice that Rwanda is broken up into 12 Prefectures. During the administrative shuffle, the 12 Prefectures were reassigned into 5 Provinces: North, East, South, West, and Kigali. In addition, each Providence is made up of several Districts, of which there are 30 total in Rwanda.

Butare was originally the seat of the Belgium Colonial Government that ruled over the northern part of the then Ruanda-Urundi Territory (there are a few different variations of this name, but it is essentially present-day Rwanda and Burundi). In the early 1930’s, Butare was renamed Astrida after the Swedish wife of a Belgium King, but eventually reverted back to the original name Butare after Rwanda gained full independence and the first University (now the National University of Rwanda) was built there in 1963. Butare was both the name of the city proper and of the Prefecture surrounding it, and was thought to be the main contender as Capital of Rwanda after Independence, but Kigali won out because of its more central location. While both the size and population of Kigali had ballooned in the years since, Butare has remained a moderate-sized town, catering mostly to the educational sector. During the Genocide of 1994, many people fled to Butare for safety, and its academic status helped keep Butare relatively safe for several months while the Genocide raged around it. The leaders of Butare, to this day still majorly a product of the University and Butare’s academic background, did everything they could to keep the Genocide from beaching Butare before they were killed and replaced. During the administrative reshuffling in the early 2000’s, Butare was thought once again to be elevated to higher standards with its proposed selection as the capital of the Southern Province. However, Nyanza (the old Seat of the Kings of Rwanda during colonial and pre-colonial times) was surprisingly chosen instead. Butare City was officially renamed Huye and became the capital of Huye District. Officially, Butare no longer exists as a City or a Prefecture; all references to the City or the District should say Huye.

However, the people of Butare are rather stubborn when it comes to the affairs of their academic oasis. While all buses to Butare from around Rwanda will be labeled as Huye, the operators will still ask you if you are going to Butare, most signs in the City itself still say Butare, and everybody in the City still calls it Butare. Sorry, that was a rather long tangent; the point being Butare/Huye is the closest large city to me.

My school is what’s called a Groupe Scholera (or a Group School) meaning it technically houses Primary and Senior students, although the Primary classrooms are further down the hill by several hundred meters than the Senior classrooms. I teach Mathematics to a Senior 2 class (about the equivalent of 8^th grade) which meets for 6 hours each week. In addition, I teach Senior 4 and Senior 5 Information Communication Technology/Computer Science. Technically, classes started 3 weeks ago (on the 10^th), but the Senior 1 and Senior 4 students are not yet attending school because of the Primary 6 and Senior 3 exams from last year. Because of this, I am only teaching 8 hours per week, with 6 hours at the S2 level and 2 hours at the S5 level until next week, when my S4 classes will start (about a full month after the start of Term).

I live by myself in a house large enough for three people with absolutely no furniture (although I’ve commissioned several pieces from the local carpenter, with whom I’m also arranging a deal where I help him with his labor needs and he teaches me hand-carpentry). It’s difficult to get most things in my village, so I have been slowly accumulating things for my house during my infrequent trips to Butare and Kigali. I do have a local market; unfortunately it is about 2 miles south of my house and only runs on Mondays and Fridays. I had been warned by Emma, a Peace Corps Health Volunteer who has been in my town for nearly 2 years to never go to the market. Last time she did (about 2 years ago) they threw food at her. Rather bored, what did I decide to do? Go to the market. While no-one threw food at me and I did get several things I need for my house, it was a little awkward being the only white person these people have seen in a very long time (probably since Emma went there two years ago).

Because I lack the time, desire, and skills necessary to cook for myself, I have arranged a deal where I eat with a few of the other Rwandan teachers of my school. For 15,000 Frw a month, I get lunch and dinner every day. For those of you keeping track at home, yes that means I eat for less than $1 a day. For those of you not: 15,000 / 30 = 500, 500 Rwandan Francs (Frw) = about $0.87. We usually have rice, beans, potatoes, and a mixture of random vegetables and greens I try not to think about as I swallow. We (there are 9 of us) eat these meals from a communal plate, although we do use utensils. Somedays (usually around market days) we have Pineapple and on Mondays we have meat.

My village has no running water or electricity. All of my water is either collected off the gutter behind my house (pictures on Picasa) or brought from the school, which also collects rain from their roofs. All the electricity I use for my phone (yes, I have a phone, provided by Peace Corps; feel free to call me at +250784103401, but remember that I am currently 8 hours in front of Central Timezone)and my computer either comes from my small solar panel, or from the school, which also uses exclusively solar power. This is sustainable and great, except I’m expected to teach Computer Science with no power. However, they are currently running power into my village (the lines are halfway here and there are small square holes appearing in the ground at the rate of about 3 per week). I have been assured that we will have power by March…or July, depending on who you ask. I’m not holding my breath.

DFTBA
-Shawn

At Site (the long version)

2011-01-14T11:31:00.000+02:00

Understanding that the last blog I posted was rather short (ok, really short), I figured I'd elaborate a little.

During the last week of training, we had very few structured activities in order to give us time to prep for our Language Proficiency Interview, which as I've said before we were required to hit intermediate low. My LPI was on Thursday, so I spent most of the week prepping for it. On Wednesday, Jed and I got permission to travel to Kigali so he could sort out some banking things and I could help, aka buy a guitar. Finally, at long last, I had a guitar back in my hands. My brand new guitar, of which there should now be a picture posted of, is a wood-grained blue Janson. Although not of impeccable quality, it is pretty nice and cost me a pretty penny as well. While in Kigali, I was also on the hunt for some Champagne to ring in the New Year correctly. Unfortunately, real champagne in Kigali runs almost as much as my guitar (to the tune of about 95,000 FRW (or about $160), so I settled for 2 bottles of some South Africa import instead.

Thursday was filled with the LPI and my Recommendation Interview with the Senior Training Staff. In my interview, they informed me that I did make Intermediate-Low and that they were recommending me to swear in.

On Friday, we rented out a bar for a celebratory farewell to out LCF's, which devolved and morphed into the New Year's pub crawl. Since we started rather early (around 4 pm), some of us were concerned about our ability to make it all the way to midnight. In fact, I had to take a 2 hour nap around 8:30 in order to stay awake the whole night. At midnight, most of us found ourselves in the bottom half of the Nyanza Heritage Hotel, where there was much dancing and drinking. The night ended well for the soon-to-be volunteers in Nyanza.

The next day, the Farside Houses organized a farewell to our respective resource families at the girl's house. We cooked a mixture of American food and traditional Rwandan food and feed over 50 people, not including the Fence Kids we invited in to help finish it all off. After dinner we took many pictures with our families (once again, up on Picasa) and retired for the night. It was off to Kigali in the morning.

Feeling ambitious in the morning, and with certain people still needing to pack for Kigali, a few of us woke early and made the trek on our backcountry shortcut into Nyanza. The busses whisked us off to the Capital where we first took care of some administrative paperwork (Peace Corps code for any official thing that simply requires you to wait around a lot) and then it was off to downtown for some last minute shopping.

In the morning, we got dressed in our finest threads (and faux-hawk for yours truly) and made our way to the American Ambassador's Residence where our ceremony took place. Speeches were given by soon-to-be volunteers in English, French, and Kinyarwanda. Yes, I did tape Jed's speech. It's difficult to upload an 8 minute video in Africa, but it's going….

After the ceremony we had 'cocktails' (not the drinks) which turned out to be more like lunch given that there was lasagna involved. After leaving the Residence we headed over to the Peace Corps office for the real lunch and to take care of some more paperwork. After a brief time downtown, we loaded the busses back for Nyanza.

The installation process (Peace Corps' name for bringing us to our sites, was set to start on Tuesday, although some Volunteers wouldn't leave until Friday. Kim, the nearest Volunteer to me save the one in my town, and I were picked up by Mup, our Training Manager, early Tuesday morning and installed by midafternoon. It's quite a different feeling going from being constantly engaged in training for nearly 14 hours a day to having absolutely nothing to do for near a week.

The school year was set to start on Monday the 10^th. Of course, I arrive to school on Monday to find only a handful of the 700 some students have arrived. This past week has been almost exclusively retakes of the national exams so students can move up to the next level. I'm told that the teaching schedule will be hammered out and implemented by Monday, although many of the new Senior 4 students won't be here until near February because they just had to take their exams to move from Ordinary Level (S1-3) to Advanced Level (S4-6). I also found out that I will be teaching 1 S2 math class which will meet for 6 hours during a given week, and 2-3 S4 ICT/Computer Science classes, which meet for 2 or 3 hours per week. This means that until the Senior 4 students get here, I will not have much to do save for my 1 math class. No complaints here, I'm sure I can fill my time by making my unused ICT skills useful in the computer lab (although we only have power at night…)

Speaking of power. For the last week I have been watching work crew dig seemingly random holes in the group all over my village. They would dig this hole and drop a tall wooden box, maybe 5 feet tall and 2 feet wide, inside it and then cement it in place. After a few days they would come back and remove the wooden frame, leaving a nice square concrete hole in the ground. I watched them do this about 15 times before I asked Anatole, my counterpart, what they were doing. His response: power lines. Can you believe it? They are digging these holes in the ground so that when the power is ready to be run, all they need to do is drop the towers into the holes and then cement them in. Depending on whom you ask my village will have power either in March, July, or 2012. Not holding my breath.

For now I bid my time in my village. The good news is I'll have plenty of time to lesson plan and grade homework!

-DFTBA (Don't Forget To Be Awesome)
Shawn

Alive, Installed, and Well

2011-01-11T18:36:00.000+02:00

Well, I made it to my site safe and sound. This one will be short
because I just happened to find an internet cafe a few towns over.

We had News Years, then Swear-In in Kigali that went pretty well. I am
now officially a Peace Corps Volunteer. The Peace Corps installed me
at my school last Tuesday, and I am doing well. The school year
technically started Monday, but I have yet to actaully teach a class.
New photos from the past few weeks are up on Picasa, check 'em out.
For now, I have to catch the jeep back to my school with one fo the
priests so that I can eat dinner with my fellow teachers.

Also, I now have a cell phone and the time to use it. The number is
(+25)0784103401. Feel free to call me if you can find a cheap way to
do it, but remember that I am 8 hours ahead of central time... let's
avoid the 3 am wake-ups, shall we?

Talk to you all in a few more weeks, that is, unless you call me

-Don't Forget To Be Awesome

----------------------------------------------------------------
This message was sent using the University of Minnesota Duluth Webmail

2010-12-30T09:26:00.000+02:00

This is a conversation I had with a man on the street on Nyanza Sunday morning as I was walking back to Mugandamore.

'Mwaramutse" he says to me, dressed in his Sunday best, no doubt just off the bus on his way to Chruch. Good Morning.
'Mwaramutse' I reply. Good Morning.
'Amakuru?' he asks, tilting his jaw slightly to his right. How are you?
'Ni meza, wowe?" I am good, and you?
'Nanjye ni meza. Ugiye he?'I am also good. Where are you going?
'Ndatembeye gusa, ariko ubu ndagenda mu rugo i'Mugandamore.' I was only wandering, but now I am going to my home in Mugandamore.
'Ahh, ni byiza. Ufite Noheli Nziza?'Ahh, it is good. Did you have a good Christmas?
'Yego, niziza cyane. Yes, very good. He smiles a broad, nearly toothless smile as he extended his arms and nearly shouts his last words.
'N'amahoro!'
Peace.

Normally, it would be near blasphemous for me to celebrate Christmas without snow. However, for Rwanda I will make an exception. With only 1 week of training left, Christmas was descending on Nyanza and the Peace Corps Trainees.

To start the Holiday off right, Friday morning found most of us undergoing a Mock LPI (Language Proficiency interview), which we will take for real next Thursday and must achieve at least an Intermediate-Low level. The plan was to take over a bar we had rented for the occasion and have a White Elephant gift exchange, talent show, and dinner.

For the talent show, the Farside houses performed a rendition of 'Crayola Doesn't Make a Color' in which many instruments we played, including two guitars, a glass-fork combo, and some rice in a bottle. Other talents included spoken word for one of our visiting Fulbright Scholars, several house songs/raps, and a rather brilliant retelling of the 12 days of Christmas as the "The 12 days of Model School." Halfway through the Talent Show, our kitchen staff arrived with our dinner and a small feast of meat and potatoes commenced. Before we could resume the Talent Show, however, a typical Peace Corps Dance Party broke out. Tables we pushed out of the way and more than a few Primus bottles we broken before or Talent Show MC's were able to rein everybody in (after they had they own fill of dancing for the moment) and finish the last few acts of the talent show.

With nothing left on the Christmas Eve agenda and it only being 8:30, the Dance Party once again hit full swing. A Peace Corps vehicle arrived at 9:15 to bring those of us living in Farside home, but many of us had already received prior permission to stay at other Peace Corps houses closer to town. The party continued longer into the night and eventually had to be moved in respect of our curfew.

Breakfast was served on Christmas morning, although many of us at the house where I crashed slept through it. A few Trainees were kind enough to liberate some food from the Center and bring it back to us. The morning was bright, albeit cloudy, making it a rather nice day to go for a walk. Just south/southwest of Nyanza City Center is a small reservoir with a few walking paths around it and some places to sit and enjoy the day. By the time we returned to town and ordered a cold Sprite to offset the now hot sun, it was almost time to return to the Center for Lunch. A few of the Trainees (Aaron and Deanne, I believe) had come up with one of their award-winning chili recipe and a few other Trainees helped make it and some cornbread-ish muffins.

After lunch we had scheduled a Christmas Movie Marathon in one of our Tech Training classrooms. We covered the floor in borrowed mattresses and pillows form the Infirmary and covered the windows with blankets as best we could to darken the room. First up, out of tradition, was A Muppet's Christmas Carol, followed by Love Actually and then Elf. Last up at 8pm was set to be The Big Libowski. Not really a Christmas movie, but still none-the-less great. We also filled in some time gaps with clips from Top Gun. I have to say, it almost gets no better than watching two Peace Corps Trainees reenact 'She's Lost That Lovin' Feellin'' while it's also being projected on the wall.

On Sunday morning, Farside came together to make breakfast American style. AS I was the last straggler to return to Mugandamore from Nyanza around 11am that morning, it fell to me to pick up the last of the supplies needed for the banana bread and French toast. Unfortunately, I didn't get the text message until I was already halfway home and knew that it would be difficult to find vegetable spread on the way. Alas I finally tracked some down (in the last shop remaining shop no less) and made my way to the girls' house where I was handsomely rewarded for my efforts with a full plate of French toast and bananas.

After a rather productive afternoon of rewriting lesson plans for my portfolio and taking some 'me' time to work on a rather nerdy math project for another Trainee, I returned to the girl's house to make Macaroni and Cheese. I have to say, it wasn't Kraft, but it was still awesome. We bummed around for a few hours playing catchphrase and Kinyarwanda Balderdash with Cate's boyfriend Joe who was visiting from Kenya where he works with an educational-based NGO (I think). He also reintroduced a game to us called 'Chinchilla' in which essentially the point is either to receive the fewest burns on your hands or be the bravest, and stupidest, player. One person will start by removing a glowing coal from the charcoal stove and lobbing it in the general direction, or towards the face of, another player. The goal is then to keep the coal in the air using nothing but your hands. It is actually much preferable to use only your hands because the hot coal tends to do a number on hair and clothing. By far the hardest part by actually picking up the coal as it involved the most time of direct searing contact, although the spectators also had an interesting time dodging the rogue coals.

As this is being posted (9:20AM local time on Thursday), I am just getting ready to take my Language Proficiency Interview. After that, I have to jaunt into Butare for some last minute shopping (read: ice cream) and then I have an interview with my training staff to discuss their recommendation for my service. I received a few emails with some questions in the last few days: I promise I will answer them in a timely matter (within 1 week).

Don't Forget To Be Awesome,
-Shawn

The End of Model School

2010-12-25T12:16:00.000+02:00

From now on, I will post a quote from the past few days at the beginning of these blogs. Some of them may be juvenile, immature, or just not right. Just a warning.

“Shawn, I’d just like to tell you that I was just sexually harassing Scott and said your name instead….”-Jed

Last week represented the final week of PST Model School in Nyanza. With the chalk finally off my hands and no more lessons to plan at 11:30 at night, we decided to throw a celebration (even though the other half of the Trainees still have a full week left). The gang gathered at Inzu Ubumwe, one of the larger houses in downtown Nyanza close to all the action, and was joined by Mary our Country Director and most of the senior training staff. A small band of amazing Trainees made tortilla chips to much success as well as some other smashing-good food. Toasts were made in honor of our APCD, Kassim, who coordinated all of model school and Allison, our main Tech Trainer. We also cheered to Charles for his newly-created role a faux-pseudo-interim Science Tech Trainer, probably the only Trainee to ever fill a vacant PC Staff position. Unfortunately, Charles likes to go to bed rather early and, although we held the party at 6pm, he had already made his way back to Farside (although he claimed to be lesson planning). I only feel comfortable poking fun at him because he’s my roommate and I have been informed that his grandmother reads these blogs. Yeah, that just happened. After the toasts, a typical Peace Corps dance party started, which was continued in spirit at the bar. I really should say plural ‘bars’ because there were many stops involved. And there was much rejoicing.

During PST, we occasionally catch a lucky break and are given a choice in what we do. Ok, that may be a little unfair to the Peace Corps Training Staff, who are all excellent at their job. Sunday was one such day when we were given the opportunity to visit Nyungwe National Forest for some hiking. Nyungwe is a standing protected rainforest in southern Rwanda and contains one of the believed sources of the Nile River. Even though it is rather close to my school, I decided to go along with the group and visit the park so I could stretch my legs for once in 2 months.

From Nyanza, where we are housed for Training, we loaded onto buses and headed for Butare, the next city over. There, we met up with our Training Manager, Mup, for a short breakfast. By some random chance, I ended up in the back of the Peace Corps Landcruiser with the driver, Mup, and Chelsea (a fellow Trainee) when we left Butare to continue south to the Forest. The two hour ride down poorly-maintained roads would not have been so bad (and really wasn’t) save for the fact that the seats in the back of the PC Landcruisers face sideways instead of forward. For the first hour, it was pretty awesome to watch the landscape roll past in front of me. After that, it became a little nauseating to endure and Chelsea and I ended up attempting to not look out any windows while occupying our minds with German punk rock and Blue October.

At the park, we took a 3 hour canopy walk that circled around the main trailhead and info center. On the far edge of the trail, a suspended metal bridge had been erected that jutted out from the hillside. By the time we had arrived at the Canopy (as they call it) it had started to rain. Imagine that. Rain in a rainforest. Only 8 of us were allowed to accompany the guide at one time out onto the walkway for safety reasons, so the rest of us huddled under umbrellas and behind raincoats while the rain grew heavier. The first section of the Canopy takes you 45 meters away from the hillside to the first metal tower. From there, it is a 90 meter stroll on a steel gangplank about 10 inches wide, holding on to the side-ropes with both hands. We stopped about halfway along this section to enjoy the view while suspended about 200 foot or so above the forest floor. By the time we made it to the final tower and over the last short section to the hillside, it had begun to hail and lightning. It was then a quick strut back along a short trail to where the Canopy began followed by the return trip to the trailhead. About halfway back, the rain stopped and the clouds lifted enough for us to be able to see Lake Kivu to the West, a short but surprising distance away.

On the ride back to Burtare from Nyungwe Forest, we cracked the windows of the buses in a futile attempt at drying our clothes. After a further futile attempt at obtaining hamburgers in Butare for lunch, we settled for more traditional Rwandan food (‘pizza’ and brochettes) before zipping back to Nyanza at last.

This one is for Jed’s family. Yeah, I know you read this, too. For all of you who are scratching your heads right now, Jed is one of the Farsiders who lives in Inzu Amahirwe with me in Mugandamore, 3 miles from Nyanza City Centre. Charles ( yet another Farsider) and I were discussing codependency in the context of the Peace Corps Experience when Jed bursts into the room and begins to sing “No Air” by Jordan Sparks and Chris Brown (I’m told). Charles turns to me and says something to the extent of “Do we really need to be codependent with him too?” My response: “I keep Jed around for times just like this. See, Jed does his normal thing like bursting into a crappy song at the top of his lungs, which is in no way normal. But as long as Jed still seems insane, I know my own sanity is intact. It’s the moments that Jed starts making sense that we need to start getting concerned.”

-Don't Forget To Be Awesome
Shawn

Adventure Corps goes to Kigali

2010-12-15T13:57:00.000+02:00

This past Saturday we had what Peace Corps calls a Banking Holiday. It essentially means that us Trainees are allowed to travel to Butare, the nearest large city to Nyanza, to access our walk-around allowance. This money is basically so we can buy food when it is not provided at the training center and other incidental expenses. However, instead of going to Butare, I found myself in a Peace Corps Landcruiser on my way to HQ in Kigali. I’ll explain.

Two of my fellow Trainees, Chelsea and Kim, had asked for my extensive expertise as a technical liaison (that bit is a little egotistical, I rescind it) and asked if I would accompany them to Kigali to help them buy computers on Wednesday. Our initial plan was to skip a teacher training session and take the time to zip into Kigali, get what they needed, and get back. I should note that we had cleared all of this with our Training Manager, Mup, just to cover ourselves.

On Saturday morning, just before breakfast, Mup came to the three of us and gave us the option to go to Kigali instead of Butare with some of the training staff, allowing us to not miss any training session, do our banking, and get our shopping done. He happily agreed and jumped in the back of the truck without much of a second thought.

Here’s the catch. In the Kigali HQ office, our credit cards and other important documents are kept in a safe to which only one person has the key. We were told that person would be at the office, despite the fact that the office is technically closed on Saturdays. She was not at the office. We had absolutely no way of accessing the safe and as such no way of buying computers for the ladies. I had no real need to access my things, although I was exploring the option of buying a guitar in Kigali, which required me to either spend almost all of the Rwandan Francs I had left or change some money (which is kept in the safe as well).

With no possible way of obtaining computers, the three of us decided we would still take advantage of being in Kigali for the day. Once the Peace Corps truck was ready to head back to Nyanza around noon, we had the driver run us around town for a bit. We tried to go to the bank to get some more money from our accounts, but found the line too long (not to mention that some sort of glitch had caused the walk-around allowance to never be transferred to our accounts). We then were dropped off at Nakumat, sometime referred to as the Umuzungu (Foreigner) Mart. There is a saying here that you can find anything in Kigali. Usually, you find it at Nakumat, although for a price. After being inundated by all the American products, eating the best bacon cheeseburger I’ve ever had, and buying a bottle of Teacher’s Scotch Whiskey (I thought the name to be a novel notion), we descended into the crowded shop-streets to get bus tickets back to Nyanza, find some igitenge (fabric used either as a waist wrap for women or to make clothing) and look into the possibility of getting a guitar. The igitenge was found along with the help of a woman from the United Arab Emirates who spoke more languages than I could count, but no such luck on the guitar.

When we returned to Nyanza, we found most of the Trainees staging a minor and mostly non-serious coup over not getting their walk-around allowance. This was carried out at one of the few bars in town and involved mostly alcohol and words, which we heavily slurred in reaction to the alcohol. During PST, we have a curfew of 10pm (don’t ask why, I’ve tried to come up with a very good reason and haven’t found one I think is acceptable). This means that if I am in Nyanza late at night, I have to start waking home to Farside by 9:15 at the latest because it takes me 40-45 minutes on foot. Problem: it was 9:15 and my food had not yet come.

In a unique moment of sheer responsibility, I called Valens, my house LCF, to inform him that I would not be home by curfew. He said it was no problem, but that I could consider staying in town at a different PST house. Preferring this over the 3 mile walk, I called Mup to further explore the notion. Mup gave me permission to crash at the house nearest to the bar. I politely informed him that I believed that to be a house of female Trainees. His response? Sleep in the living room. While the concrete floor wasn’t the most comfortable, it actually wasn’t much worse than the RwandaFoam mattresses and preferable to the walk back to Farside.

Having spent most of Saturday preoccupied, I had not gotten around to writing the short speech I had ‘volunteered’ to give during our visit to a Genocide Memorial on Sunday. This, coupled with not walking home Saturday night, found me at 6:30am in the living room of the girls house where I had crashed the night before attempting to write a serious speech. In addition, I somehow got put in charge of the 45 Trainees who decided to visit the memorial. Still not quite sure how…

Without going into too much detail, the memorial was optional for a reason. Over 50,000 Rwandans had been murdered at this site and some 800 bodies had been exhumed from mass graves and preserved with limestone. They were on display in the rooms in which they were killed. It was very difficult to handle; many of us could not finish the entire tour. Afterwards, I gave my short speech I had prepped a few hours prior:

“We have chosen to come here today in an attempt to further our understanding of such a significant event in Rwanda’s history. We had seen the photographs, heard the stories, and felt its impact on society. Now, we feel it is important to see for ourselves. This memorial has been preserved to remind Rwanda and the World of the need for unity and peace. Rwanda is a place of change. Rwanda is a place of forgiveness. We pray for Rwanda. We pray for its people. We pray that together we can make a difference in this world. As educator, this is our all-encompassing focus during the two years we will be in Rwanda. The Unites States Peace Corps wishes to take part in the perpetual peace that Rwanda is striving towards. We as Trainees, and soon as Volunteers, are grateful for the opportunity to contribute during this special time in Rwanda’s history. We wish to thank the Memorial Authorities for having us today and I would also like to thank my fellow trainees for being here as well.”

I do need to give many props to Chelsea, who proofed the speech as I was writing it and didn’t hold back when she though one of my ideas was utter crap. After the memorial, we stopped off in Butare to get some lunch and ice cream before returning to Nyanza and to the normal grind of PST. One more weekend down. Only 5 day until the next one…

-Don't Forget To Be Awesome
Shawn Grund

What PST is all about

2010-12-13T12:50:00.000+02:00

Over the past few weeks, I have been attempting to keep everybody informed as to what I’m doing here in Rwanda. Right now, I am in what is called Pre-Service Training (PST). During this time, I am called a Peace Corps Trainee. PST lasts for about 11 weeks (October 21- January 3) and takes place in Nyanza, Rwanda. At the end of PST I will travel to Kigali, the Capital City, for a swearing-in ceremony where I will take the oath that will officially make me a Peace Corps Volunteer.

Currently, there at 68 Trainees in my training group. While we are all Education Volunteers, some of us teach English, some Science, and some Mathematics. However, we are all teaching at the Secondary Level, which is called Senior Level. In Rwanda, there is a policy of 9 years of free education. This currently includes Primary 1-6 (the equivalent of grades 1-6 in the US) and Ordinary Senior Level (S1-S3, or the equivalent of grades 7-9 in the US). In addition to the free 9-year education, student can also go on to take Advanced Senior Level (S4-S6, or grades 10-12). The majority of us will be teaching Ordinary Senior Level, but I have so far been told that I will be teaching Mathematics on the Advanced Senior Level, more specifically S4 and S5. Back on the topic of PST…

While the 68 of us are at PST, we attend classes for 10-12 hours per day at our Training Facility. We are sectioned into 11 separate houses, some with as few as two Trainees and some with as many as 11 Trainees. I live in a house with three other Trainees (Charles, Dylan, and Jed) and one Language and Cross-Culture Facilitator (LCF) named Valens. Our LCF’s are essentially our teachers during PST. They live with us, teach us the language, and show us how to integrate in the Rwandan Society. Each house group is given a house name; ours is Inzu Amahirwe (pronounced a-ma-he-gway), or House of Luck. We find this name to ironic in several ways, not the least of which is the fact that we are located three miles up the road from where we attend training. Luckily, there is another house of female Trainees just a few doors down from us. Because we are so far from the Training Facility, we have been dubbed (perhaps by ourselves) as the Farsiders.

After swearing in on January 3^rd, I will be transported to my permanent site where I will be teaching for two full years. My site is in the Southern Province in a district called Nyaruguru. My school is a catholic boarding school with about 700 students in P1-P6 and S1-S5. When the 68 of us are placed at our sites, we will be scattered across the entire country, almost completely cut off from regular interaction with other PCV’s. I say almost because of two reasons. First of all, Rwanda is a very small country and once the 68 of us swear in, there will be nearly 160 volunteers serving here. Second, during my visit to my site two weeks ago I found out that there is a PCV from the original health group who is also living in my village. Even though she will be done with her service in March/April, there is a possible chance that a new Volunteer will replace her when she leaves.

This past week we started what the Peace Corps calls Model School. Essentially, Peace Corps invites about 500 Rwandan schoolchildren in S1 and S2 to attend classes led by the Trainees. This is designed for us Trainees to gain first-hand experience being in front of a class of about 50 students and practice our teaching. We learned very quickly that there is only so much we can gain from talking about teaching; you eventually have to just get up there and do it. We will all make mistakes. We will all have lesson plans that fail horrible. There will be derailments and train wrecks, some of which may be on fire. The point is that we as educators take a leaf out of our student’s book and LEARN. There is no better way to comprehend exactly the level of English you can use with Rwandan students until you get in front of a class and your word choice goes way over their head. It will, and has, happened to all of us trainees. But now we have learned from these experiences. We know that they speak quietly mostly because they are not confident with the language. We know that they know words like sublimation and microbiology but not words like anybody or convert.

I do have to apologize for the relative lack of information flowing your way from me in the last two weeks. We recently have had internet installed at our training center, but it cut out last week and we have been trying to work with MTN, the phone company in Rwanda that is providing us with the service, to get the proper parameters for the routers. If you think dealing with Tech Support sucks in the states, you should try either speaking through a French translator or with the very minimal (and very non-technical) Kinyarwanda that I know. Luckily, Peace Corps Rwanda has recently acquired a new Technician from Peace Corps Senegal. Even as I write this we are working to reconfigure our router and modem. And look at that, it works.

Getting Better and Model School

2010-12-01T18:03:00.000+02:00

it has been quite some time since I've updated you all about the
goings-on here in Rwanda. Since my last post, a lot has happened. As I
mentioned before, I had been sick last Tuesday and the Good Doctors had
put me on Cipro, a broad-spectrum antibiotic that should have righted my
wrongs. However, when the Cipro had not made a dent in my symptoms by
mid afternoon, the Doctors decided on a new approach: Coartem. Coartem
is an anti-Malaria agent designed for when the weekly prophylaxis
(prevention) medicine fails. Now, the Doctors don't feel (i think) that
I have Malaria, but they would rather have me on the medicine that find
out next week that I DO have Malaria.

Unfortunalty, Coartem is rather strong. My original symptoms had
diminished and disappeared by midday on Wednesday, but the medicine kept
me weak and out of class until early Thursday. Speaking of, Thursday was
Thanksgiving (as you know). Since Thanksgiving is almost strictly an
American holiday, they do not celebrate it in Rwanda. They also do not
have conventional ovens. Do you see the problem here? It is for this
reason that one could find a 7 foot by 4 foot hole dug 3 feet into the
ground filled with ashes, wood, and 10 turkeys wrapped in tinfoil and
banana leaves. Yeah, true story. Better yet, it actually worked. If you
want proof, I uploaded some pictures to Picasa. Thursday night we had a
massive Thanksgiving dinner, fully set with the turkey, mashed potatoes,
gravy, apple crisp, and stuffing. If we had had Pumpkin Pie (apparently
pumpkins are only available at the Nyanza market on Thursdays from a
woman who was nowhere to be found on Thursday at the Nyanza Market), it
would have been the best Thanksgiving ever.

On Monday we started Model School, where we have started actually
teaching classes. This week, I am teaching an S2 (8th grade) math class
for 50 minutes once per day. My class has about 40-45 students, most of
which are between the ages of 12 and 16. Getting up in front of the
Rwandan students is not really the part that makes me nervous; for the
most part the students are well-behaved and smart although there is a
significant language barrier. The main thing that makes me nervous is
the fact that every day I have 5 other trainees and our Tech Trainer
sitting in the back taking copious notes on my performance.

Most of the time I spend with my class is spent with me at the
blackboard writing notes and definitions. For instance, that last three
days have been about Integers, Natural Numbers, Rational Numbers, and
types of decimals. Our Tech Trainers keep telling us to find ways to
'spice up' that class and spend less time lecturing. For me, that means
I simply do a ton more exercises and conduct the class from the back or
sides of the room instead of from the board. Its a little hard to teach
math through singing like the Trainees who are teaching English have
been doing...

We have model school for three full weeks, although my group has more
student so I will not be teaching next week, but then the third week I
will teach an S1 (7th grade) class. Model school is done in an attempt
to prepare us for the 'real world' of site placement. For the most part,
it is a very good idea and tends to work rather well. However, Model
School is conducted outside of the normal school year, so none of the
students are actually required to be there, nor are they being graded in
any way for their effort. This seems to have the effect of a relative
decrease in the participation and level of caring among the students. It
is also very difficult to tell weather the students don't understand me
because of my techniques in teaching the material or because of the
language barrier. Its difficult to be hard on students whom you are
convinced cannot understand you.

For now, I need to return to preparing a lesson plan for tomorrows
lesson; converting decimals to fractions. Should be a load of fun!

-Don't Forget To Be Awesome
Shawn

Recalling a Month in Rwanda

2010-11-24T13:16:00.000+02:00

This past Sunday marked the 1 month anniversary of our arrival in
Rwanda. As instructed, we prepared for the worst but hoped for the best.
The fact that I am writing this on a bed in the Training center
Infirmary while being pumped full of antibiotics and acetaminophen is
testament that the Peace Corps is not all fun and games. Not to worry...
Its just a small sickness and the Good Doctors are willing to release me
back into the general population by lunchtime. I'm just glad I was able
to dodge taking the oral re-hydration salts....

Last week, as i mentioned, spent 4 or 5 days visiting our sites where we
will be placed in January after completion of Pre-Service Training. I am
at a Catholic boarding school in the Southern Providence, about a
stone's throw away from the Burundi border (which I am not actually
allowed to cross). I am replacing a Volunteer who taught English, but I
also have another Health Volunteer in my town until the end of
March/April when she will return to the States. Having so many
Volunteers in my town was a little unexpected given the relative size of
the village which, when school is not in session, is about the size of
my high school graduating class.

My headmaster has informed me that they have S4 and S5 (equivalent to
grades 10 and 11) and they want me to teach these upper secondary
classes instead of the lower secondary (S1-S3). This is a welcomed
change, although it doesn't in any way mean that their English will be
any better. However, I met my Headmaster, my Dean of Studies, and my
Deans of Discipline and they all have pretty decent English. My
Headmaster (who is really cool, by the way) is in a distance learning
Masters Program out of Kampala, Uganda and the texts he was studying
from when I was there had some pretty sophisticated English. Since his
wife is attending University in Butare, he is back and forth between my
school and there fairly often and he has a decent truck. This is
fortunate because there are only two other ways out of my village. I can
take a 'bus' (which they pack people into like packing peanuts and only
come very early in the mornings on Mondays and Fridays) or by a moto
(either an actual motorcycle or a really crappy dirt bike). Either way
it takes me about an hour to reach Butare, which is the nearest large city.

I have a house to myself at site, which I have already decided to make
into a bachelor's pad. I think my Headmaster's truck will come in quite
handy in getting furniture to my house. I have pasted pictures of what
my house looks like on the Picasa site that was listed in my previous
post. Check 'em out.

On the way back to Training from our site visits I met up with some
other Trainees and went for Ice Cream in Butare. I capitalize it because
it was so good. I'm not sure if its because of the actual quality of
said ice cream or if its because of the relative scarcity in Rwanda.
Either way, its going to be a major pit-stop for me for the next two years.

This week we hit the ground hard.... 4 hours of language and 4 hours of
Tech Training almost every day. The monotony of the schedule begins to
wear on you a bit, but at least we will always know what's coming next!
For now, I have to return to sleeping so I don't miss more Language
sessions from being laid up with the Good Doctors. In the end, I suppose
it's close to a fair trade...

-Don't Forget to be Awesome
Shawn

I Have a Home

2010-11-12T13:35:00.000+02:00

Ok, so it isn't my home yet, but last night we were assigned our
specific sites and schools where we will be living for the two years
after training. Drum roll, please...

I am going to be placed in a very small town (that I already knew) in
the Southern Province next to Nyungwe National Forest. I will be
teaching Mathematics to student in S1, S2, and S3 levels (equivalent of
grades 7-9) which are the last years of the free 9-year basic education
program. In addition, I am told that my school has about 40 computers
(with nearly half of them functioning!) so I may be called on to teach
computers as well.

On Monday all 68 Trainees will spend the week visiting out sites and
meeting with out Headmasters and Teaching Counterparts. Forewarning: I
may not have access to internet for the next week as I will be on the
move and rather busy. I will be sure to update you all with the news and
some pictures!

On the topic of pictures, I just uploaded some pictures from the last
few weeks. They should be open to the public in the Picasa account
attached to my blog. here is the URL:

http://picasaweb.google.com/grun0177/PeaceCorpsRwanda#

For now, it's time for me to return to our training center for some
Language and Tech Training sessions!

-Don't Forget To Be Awesome
Shawn

PST schedule and Halloween

2010-11-06T13:39:00.000+02:00

18 days ago, I boarded a plane in Minneapolis and started a journey that
will encompass the next two years of my life. Prior to departing for the
Peace Corps and Rwanda, I decided to not dwell on what was about to
happen to me and just jump in feet first. This way, I was guaranteed not
to psych myself out over leaving. However, this has had the unpleasant
side effect of major culture shock. I spent very little time preparing
myself to leave for fear of changing my mind, leaving me wide open to
all the unknowns. While Rwanda itself is in no way bad in any sense of
the word, Pre-Service Training does suck the life out of you. Here is an
example of a standard day:

5:00AM - Alarm goes off. I ignore it
5:30AM - Charles (my roommate) wakes up. I ignore that too.
6:00AM - I stumble from my top bunk and get ready to shower. A 'shower'
consists of standing in one or two liters of water and splashing it as
effectively as possible onto your body. We have no hot water. We have no
running water.
6:45AM - Meet up with the other Farsiders (the collective name for Jed,
Charles, Dylan, Caroline, Annie, Nicole, Caitlyn, and Me since we are
the furthest from the training center). Load bus for downtown Nyanza.
7:00AM - Breakfast; tea, bread, and cheese. Sometimes eggs.
8:00AM - 2 hour Language session where we spend most of the time
attempting to translate our teacher's pantomimes.
10:00AM - Half-hour tea break.
10:30AM - Back to Language
Noon - Lunch usually consisting of rice, potatoes, bananas, and perhaps
meat. Use spare time to hit up internet cafe or nap under a tree.
2:00PM - Technical Training session where we learn to teach well.
3:30PM - Pointless 15 minute break
3:45PM - Back into the classroom for a safety and security lecture,
medical lecture, or some other important information....
5:00PM - Random 2 hour break which can be filled with napping under a
tree, Medical Officer consults, vaccinations, more security lectures, or
some random debrief activity which usually dissolves into questions
about our sites.
7:00PM - Dinner (similar to Lunch)
8:00PM - Bus returns to pick up the Farsiders
8:15PM - Arrive home and start getting ready for bed.
9:00PM - Charles is out like a light. Peter and Valans (our
Facilitators) are still playing guitar in the living room.
10:30PM - All is quiet, yet I'm still typing this out as I fight to stay
awake.
10:31PM - Approx time of falling asleep.

As you can see, our time at PST in Nyanza is very structured. However,
just because the schedule says one thing doesn't mean it well happen
then or at all. Just trying to stay flexible...

Last weekend was Halloween (as you know...). From my observations,
Rwandans do not celebrate Halloween. Of course, we didn't let that stop
us from celebrating Halloween. Without many structured events, most
Trainees ended up on a pub crawl that was more of a circle (there are
really only three good bars in Nyanza). We would pretty much walk into
any of the three and ask 'Abazungo bari hehe?' or 'Where are the
foreigners?' and be directed to a table surrounded by merry Trainees. A
good time was had by all, although we did get a coincidental reminder of
the dangers of alcohol use as a coping method a few days after. Its
almost like they know...

Contrary to the schedule I posted above, tonight we actually visited
with our Resource Families and ate dinner with them as we do twice a
week. Today, there was another young man at dinner with my family who
was a student in lower secondary (Equivalent to grades 7-9) and just
finished his national exams to pass to the next grade. Unfortunately,
cheating is a large problem in Rwanda. The students recognize that they
need to pass the national exams in order to continue schooling and feel
that they need to achieve this goal by any means possible. Also
unfortunately, some teachers don't do anything about it. Some teachers
take it one step further. Our dinner guest was telling me that one of
the local teachers was just JAILED for 20 YEARS because he gave a
student the answers to their national exam. Strict? Yes. Effective? Also
yes. I'm not sure how accurate that information is, but it doesn't
surprise me as much as it would have a month ago.

Don't Forget To Be Awesome
-Shawn

Week One in Rwanda

2010-10-27T13:14:00.000+02:00

Below are my writing from the past week. I had hoped to post them individually, but there was so much going on to write about and no good way of getting to the internet...

October 21^st, 2010, 4:55am
35,000 feet of the Atlantic Ocean, En Route to Brussles

Today has been a very long day, although filled with a lot of waiting. It seems like a lifetime ago that I woke up at 5:30 am in Philadelphia (still sleep-deprived) and joined the other 70 trainees in the hotel lobby. We walked around the block and down the street to a federal building for a Yellow Fever shot. Apparently, the nurses find it much easier and very amusing to give you the shot while you’re not paying attention. Clever, yet slightly sadistic. I like it.

After the 71 of us filed through single file, we made our way back to the hotel to catch a coach bus for two hours into New York. Our plane left at 6:50… we were through security by 1. With 5 hours to kill, we did the only thing we knew how. We bonded over beer, pizza, and cards.

For those of you who don’t know, which by now you should, I played Ultimate Frisbee for almost 6 years. Naturally, I decided to bring a disc. While waiting at JFK I found that I’ll spend the next two years with a guy who played with Gruel and a girl who went to and played for a school at Macalester. Yeah, the one in Minnesota. Needless to say, we already have plans to start a few Ultimate leagues in Rwanda. By the time it becomes an Olympic sport, expect Rwanda to be on top led by a few Peace Corps Volunteers.

Satruday, October 23, 2010,
8:10pm, Central African Time

Today is our last night at IWACU, the compound we have been staying at since we arrived in Kigali Thursday night. The compound is situated inside the actual city of Kigali, so the dirt streets are just outside the walls. Yesterday, we went on a 2 hour walk around the area surrounding our compound. We endured the calls of ‘Muzungo’ and the stares of Rwandans as we sheepishly followed our LCF (Language and Cross-Culture Facilitator), a local Rwandan. We quickly realized that simply saying hi in Kinyarwanda goes a long way to alleviate the awkwardness. Part of the walk took us through a local market, where they sold everything from ice to flour to cellphone accessories. It was somewhat intriguing to see the clash of relatively primitive living with the modern communication technologies.

Out time at the IWACU compound is a Pre-Pre-Service Training of sorts. We received tons of general information about what to expect both for PST and in our actual community site. We were also given our first round of shots and put on Mefloquin (SP??), our Malaria pills. Apparently the pills, which we take once a week, have the side effect of giving you both vivid drams and hallucinations. Between the 71 of us, we have some pretty awesome stories of snake attacks and hanging out with KISS. I’m assuming that was a hallucination.

Today was a very taxing day, emotionally, mentally, and physically. It was our second full day, although it feels like we’ve all been together for a few weeks already. With information being tossed at us from all angels all day, it gets a bit overbearing. We also visited Gisizo, the Kigali Genocide Memorial Museum. Although not actually a place of signifance during the Genocide, all of the victims bodies are mandated to be buried there. Currently, they belive they have over 250,000 Rwandans buried there. One would think that it would be a fairly large site to bury a quarter of a million people, but it actually isn’t that large. While the bodies are buried in coffins, most coffins hold an entire family. We, as the Peace Corps, left of wreath of flowers and individual roses on one of the concrete coverstones and took a moment of silence for them.

Sunday, October 24, 2010
Nyanza City, Southern Province

Early this afternoon we loaded three buses to leave the IWACU compound in Kigali for Nyanza where our PST facility is. Up to that point, all we had seen of Rwanda was the heavily-populated Kigali region. It was quite remarkable to move away from such a crowded place and get into the rural Rwandan regions. The three hour bus ride brought us to the city of Nyanza and to the next 11 weeks of our lives. Upon arrival, we were split into our smaller house groups. I am in a group of 4 other male trainees and 2 LCF’s.

Side story that hopefully lead back into the conversation flow… The last few days I have been intending to get up and go for a run before breakfast with some other trainees (PCT’s), but I haven’t yet gotten a full night’s sleep. Friday night I woke up at 1:45am and couldn’t fall back asleep until 5. Ironically, I learned through this that Kigali has Islamic Prayer Chants starting at 4:20am and running until 5:30am every day. This may have contributed to my sleep deprivation. Saturday night was a little better, but I still wasn’t up in time again for a run. Moop, one of our senior training staff members, asked for a list of those who have been running and those that enjoy running. It wasn’t quite clear what he was intending to use the list for at the time. Now it is.

When we found out our house groups, we were told that our house was the furthest from the training center. The four of us we pretty cool with that (by the way, it is myself, Jed, Charles, and Dylan in our house…there are also 4 female PCT’s a few doors down). Then we were told we would take a bus to drop out bags off while some others would walk theirs there. We were pretty stoked until we found out there was a reason for the bus ride. Our two houses are about 2 miles from the center. It was around that time we realized everyone on the runners list was on the bus... We are placed in the furthest housing because we expressed we liked to run.

This means the 8 of us are basically sequestered from the rest of the 63 PCT’s. To be to breakfast at 7am, we need to leave our house at 6am. We will most likely not return until long after dark. On the up side, we are supposed to get bikes on Friday. That should shorten things up a bit.

I suppose I am overreacting a bit. Nyanza is a fairly large area, although mostly surrounding the same winding road, and all PCT’s are scattered pretty thoroughly. Plus, there is a market outside our house. With fresh fruit, also from just outside our house.

Tomorrow, we start our actual Pre-Service Training (PST). Can you tell the Peace Corps really likes to abbreviate everything? PCV, PCT, PCMO, PST, COTE, COS. Yeah, plenty more where those came from. Anyway, we get to start formal language training, technical training, and get to meet our resource families. These are similar to host families, except we will not stay with them. They are here to further facilitate our transition into the culture.

On a final side note, many of us have noted as you may as well through these writings that things don’t always happen as the Peace Corps plans or in the most efficient manner. Some of us PCT’s have come up with a way to cope with it. ‘This is Peace Corps and this is Africa. Sh*t happens.’

October 26^th, 2010
Nyanza, Rwanda

Today was the first day of actual language classes during PST. The language in Rwanda is called Kinyarwanda and is pretty specific to Rwanda itself. However, most common people speak Swahili and those that completed all 12 years of school will speak French and some (if we’re lucky) English. All of our Language and Cross-Cultural Facilitators (LCF’s) speak English, French, and Kinyarwanda with about 80-90% speaking Swahili as well. I think there is one that speaks a fifth language….

Kinyarwanda is a Bantu-derived language and therefore is relatively complex. Forewarning: I am not an expert, so take this information with a grain of salt. Kinyarwanda is relatively phonetic, although there are a few differences. Almost every ‘R’ is rolled to the point where it is an ‘L.’ A combination of ‘rwe’ usually makes a ‘gwe’ sound. For instance, the word for good afternoon is ‘mwiriwe,’ pronounced (MERE-A-WAY) but with a rolled R while the farewell word for the afternoon is ‘mwirirwe.’ That added R before the last W makes it (MERE-A-GWAY). Kinyarwanda is also really heavy on the letters w, u, and g which tends to dramatically increase the number of syllabus. For instance, the word for volunteer is ‘umukorerabushake.’ We as a group are still attempting to pronounce it, so I will not even attempt to put it here.

Last night we met our Resource Families for the first time. A Resource Family is essentially a Host Family except we don’t actually live in-house with them, although we are required to spend at least 4 hours/week with them for dinner and social events. We had a huge ceremony with all 70 Trainees (we are down one for medical reasons unknown to me) and a member of the RF for basic introductions and information. The process to pair us up was a little…precarious. A list was already prepped, but we needed a way to get the information out to everyone. In true Peace Corps Style, our Training Manager Mupemba spoke in French (He is Congolese, so his Kinyarwanda is not top-notch) and an LCF translated it into Kinyarwanda for those RF’s that didn’t speak French (most). At the same time, two Trainees translated from French to English for the rest of the Trainees. Literally, we had three languages bouncing around at once. My mind was blown.

Today was my first visit to my Resource Family’s home, which is just down the road about three blocks (like time, blocks are elastic in Rwanda). I am not entirely sure what my host mothers’ name is because she insists I call her Mama and her husband Papa. They have 7 children all between 5 and 14 years old, although one (the 7 year old) is adopted. Neither Mama nor Papa speak ANY English. Fortunately, the oldest child is learning English in school and is capable of translating most words for me. The children think it is funny when my skin turns red after too much time outside. I do not…

Tomorrow is a pretty packed day, and I’m sure it’ll be a challenge. Generally there are two ways to learn a language; Soft immersion and hard immersion. Classroom and Real Life. However, Peace Corps/Rwanda has altered the scales to Hard Immersion, which we do in the classroom, and what I like to call Concrete From 5,000 Feet Immersion. In this process we literally are placed in a family that does not speak English and asked ot communicate several ideas by whatever means possible. While this is improving my Kinyarwanda skills, I think it is improving my pantomime skills faster.

Here's a little tidbit of knowledge relating to my experiences her for you to take home...
"The hardest journey is the one that leads to the truth. I didn’t know t that…If I had, I probably would have stayed home, drank myself stupid and watched Ferguson until the big nod closed my book for the day. In a blinding flash I realized that what I was really experiencing was the result of a life-long indoctrination by a culture which elevates individualism above all else, thus causing a soul-crushing sense of aloneness which demands over and under the counter medication, the constant distraction of sporting events, TV, major motion pictures and a pop-tabloid religion based on celebrity worship/crucifixion." --Chuck Lorre

-DFTBA

Shawn

The Night Before Rwanda

2010-10-18T23:22:00.000+02:00

Ok, first off, I apologize to all my die-hard fans (sarcasm...) for not posting for two whole weeks. Today is the 18th, meaning tomorrow is the 19th, the day I leave for Philadelphia, where I undertake staging before flying to Rwanda on Wednesday night/Thursday morning. Here's what my two weeks have been like.

I ended work on the 8th, only to have to go back on the 13th for one last full day. I am now done with work altogether, although there are still 15 hours between now and when I leave for them to call again.

After a week of packing and recuperation, I come to find out on Friday that I have Strep Throat. Awesome. I called Patrick, the Rwandan Country Desk Attendant, among other things, and he directed me to OMS (Office of Medical Services) for some followup. Long story short, I ended up hanging out outside the doctor's office at 8am this morning until they opened, getting the forms signed and emailed to OMS, and then waiting three hours for them to decide weather or not I could go. Even shorter story, I am all better and have the green light to go!

I've now gathered all the things I am bringing in the basement. Somewhere on this post should be a picture...

Here's a list of most of the stuff:

CLOTHES

2 pair khakis
2 pair jeans
1 pair shorts
1 pair hiking pants (zip off)
2 pair black dress pants
1 pair swim trunks
1 micro fleece sweater
1 buff
6 bandana/handkerchiefs
4 casual shirts
3 smart shirts
3 dress shirts
15 underwear
6 pair white socks
4 pair wool socks
4 pair black socks
3 white tshirts
1 gray tshirt
Black dress shoes
Brown dress shoes
Hiking shoes
Running shoes
Stretchy black bedsheets
1 pack towel
1 full length towel
1 sleepingbag
1 raincoat
1 canvas messenger bag
Nikon D50 camera plus long lenses
Insignia HD camcorder
6 2GB SD cards
3 comp notebooks
Several pens and pencils
Water bladder with drinking hose
Henry Shires Tarptent
Several ties
1 Nalgene
Spare glasses/cases
Aviators
Double sided belt
Bible
Contacts
Axe deodorant
Advil
Bowmore Islay Single Malt Whiskey
Ziplocks (gallon and sandwich)

Its sounds like a lot, I know. Basically, I'm allowed 2 checked bags totaling no more than 80 pounds, plus one carry-one. I haven't weighted it yet, but I'm pretty sure it'll all fit.

Tomorrow morning I'll arrive at the airport in Minneapolis at 5am for a 6:30am flight to Philadelphia. From there I will join with the 70 other Rwandan volunteers-to-be for a Wednesday night flight to Brussels with a skip down to Kigali. We'll stay in Kigali for a few days before heading out for the training facility.

Tonight is chalk full. One of my dad's neighbor's leads a cub scout den and asked me to speak to them about my path to Eagle Scout and where it has taken me. After that I'm heading out for dinner with my family and maybe visiting some friends. But its early to bed for me tonight. Gotta get up early. Got a big day tomorrow.

Don't Forget to be Awesome
-Shawn

Two Weeks To Go

2010-10-06T08:53:00.000+02:00

In two weeks, I will be departing for the start of my Peace Corps service. While the plane ride on the 19th will only take me as far as Philadelphia, I will reach Rwanda only a few days later. While I've known for over a month now that I will be leaving on the 19th, it is just now becoming real (read as daunting). There is still so much for me to sort through, buy, collect, pack, and say goodbye to. I know that I will be physically prepared for my time in Rwanda, but I fear that the reality and gravity of the situation may not become clear until I am already neck-deep.

However, I see this as more of a positive reaction to the situation. I fell pretty well educated about the possibilities I will face while overseas, but I cannot help but think that if it had fully hit me already, I would probably spend the next two weeks worried out of my mind, over-packing, over-analyzing, and over-everything else. Perhaps the best strategy (I speak only for myself) is to stay as busy as possible with packing and seeing friends and family that I don;t have time to fully weight the dichotomy I am about to face. After all, there will be plenty of time to sleep in Rwanda. Or on the 16 hour trip there from New York.

I promise to post a full packing list (and maybe some pictures, if I ever get around to clearing my camera's memory cards) before too long. I've already found or bought most of the special equipment I will need/want while servings, namely this netbook I'm typing on right now, the 1 terabyte removable hard drive, and some other odds and ends.

This week is also the 'final' week at my job. I say 'final' because my boss (yes, the same one who decided that I needed a few days to figure out if i really wanted to give my two weeks) has chosen not to terminate my employment until the 18th. While this does this does not mean that I will have to work an extra ten days, it does mean that he, as well as the other 4 Minneapolis Directors, may still contact me about working extra shifts. Awesome....

After I finish my last day of work on Friday, my brother is coming into town from Kansas to see me (and for the Open Regionals for his Ultimate team). I like to think its more the former than the latter. Although I'll miss the first two Minnesota Twins vs. Yankees playoff games due to work, we plan to watch the Saturday game with overloaded festivities.

Next week I have no large daily obligations. This means that I can finally catch up on my sleep, as the 4-5 hours I've been getting during the last three 70 hour work weeks has started to wear on me. I am very much looking forward to more time to finish/start packing. I've been assembling all the information from the Peace Corps, and should soon be posting instructions for sending letters, packages, and other communications during my time overseas.

-Don't forget to be awesome

Shawn

Staging, National Punctuation Day, and More!

2010-09-25T02:53:00.000+02:00

I received an email a day or two ago (OK, it was actually on Monday during my round trip excursion to Duluth) with a bunch of information for my 'Staging Event' in Philadelphia. When I saw I leave for Rwanda on the 19th of October, I really mean that I leave for Staging on the 19th and for Rwanda on the 20th.

After getting all the details, I had to call the travel company that handles all the airline tickets and whatnot. The kind woman there informed me that I needed to be at the hotel in Philadelphia by 11am on the 19th and the only flight for the Twin Cities that would meet the deadline takes off at 6:30 in the morning. This really wasn't a problem for me because I routinely start work at 6am. However, she then informed me that she could not pre-print my ticket or assign me a specific seat, so I need to make sure to check in with plenty of extra time. This means I need to be at the airport at like 4:30 or 5, which means I have to be conscious before then. Yeah, not too keen for that one.

After all the orientation in Philadelphia, we (the ~70 member training group) will be bused to JFK in New York (ish) for a 6pm flight on the 20th. that flight will take us to Brussels and be a little under 8 hours long. We then transfer flights for another 8 hour leg to Kigali (the capital of Rwanda) and will land at about the same time we left JFK, only a day later. Bring on the exhaustion...

Today is also National Punctuation Day in the US. Feel free to scan this post for any mistakes, hopefully you find none (thanks spellcheck).

In addition, today was also two week notice day. By that I mean I talked to my boss and let him know I will be done working on the 8th of October and informed him that I will be joining the Peace Corps. Or at least, that was the plan. However, my boss has decided that I am not yet convinced of my own decision and asked me to let him know on Monday if I really am going. After failing to convince him once again that I am already set on going, I backed down and accepted that I will just have to tell him again on Monday.

With less than a month before I leave, I feel slightly deprived of information. This is however, nothing new as far as my relation with the Peace Corps. Almost everything is done in ambiguity and they expect you to just hang on for the ride. They tell you what you need to know and not a whole lot else. I'm not saying this is a bad thing; I completely understand the logic behind it. Plus, I feel that it may be good practice for my time abroad. But if you're going to be a volunteer with the Peace Corps, expect to be left in the dark. Just remember that there are hundreds of others in the dark with you, some of which may be your closest American contacts for 27 months.

Don't forget to be awesome...

Shawn

Project Digital Textbook

2010-09-18T04:57:00.002+02:00

The other night, while I was discussing what to pack for the Peace Corps with my mother, I expressed that I really wished I could bring my Calculus textbook because it would be an amazing resource while I'm there. However, the thing weighs near eight pounds and would take up a lot of my allotted weight. We had just also been discussing making copies of my paperwork, and she lightly suggested that I photocopy the textbook.

Like that, Project Digital Textbook was born. I was able to locate an industrial automatic scanner that will allow me to scan the pages quickly, provided I cut them off of the book binding first. The scanner will then save them as a pdf file and email them to me, thus converting eight pounds of paper and text into a (relatively) small digital version.

The legality of Project Digital Textbook is somewhat...gray. Under new federal laws, copying copyrighted media to a digital format (weather it came from an physical format or a digital one) is considered theft, piracy, illegal, and a bunch of other bad things. However, under fair use clauses, I believe I am allowed to 'back up' copyrighted material that I purchased, so long as I do so without distributing it to others or making a profit off of it.

This only slightly concerns me considering I will be serving in the Peace Corps, an extension of the US Federal Government, who ultimately enforces copyright law. Make no mistake, I plan to only use these files for the best of intentions. I'm not aiming to sell them or distribute them. I am merely using them in place of physical copies to ensure I give a quality education to the students of Rwanda.

While Project Digital Textbook is on hold due to the fact that Test Subject #1, my Calculus book, is in Duluth and I'm in the Twin Cities, I have been advancing the scope of the project ion the meantime. I spoke with the Tutoring Center I volunteered at during college and inquired if they had textbooks they wanted to get rid of. They told me that they have boxes of them every year that they give away to students for free because they are too old. They said I could swing by any time and claim any textbooks I thought would help me, especially if I am going to put them to as good a use as teaching in developing areas.

I sent out my passport documents today. I'm slightly more concerned about this because that gives me less than five weeks to have them be processed and approved. But I supposes that's what happens when I receive a six week notice that my life will change forever. That's not a complaint, just a remark. The Peace Corps, an especially the Placement Office, does wonderful work and i very much appreciate all they have done for me.

Tomorrow marks the one month mark before I leave. I find it rather hard to believe that it was near a year ago that I started applying for this opportunity. All the hard work, the waiting, the paperwork, the waiting, the drawn blood (and passing out), ans the waiting are now paying off. of course, now I need to wait some more.

Don't forget to be awesome

-Shawn

Massive Peace Corps Update

2010-09-16T05:56:00.000+02:00

Wow. As I sat down to post this, I realized the last time I wrote anything was back in November of 2009, back before I even received a Nomination. Here is the massive update as to what has happened since then (For the streamlined version look in the right hand column for my Peace Corps Timeline):

In mid to late December, I received an official Nomination for the Peace Corps. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Peace Corps process, here is a run-down.

Application: Anyone interested in the Peace Corps fills out and sends the Peace Corps Application. after submitting this you are now an APPLICANT.

Nomination: After reviewing the application, a Recruiter will contact the Applicant and request additional information and conduct a phone screen or an in-person interview depending on location. If the Recruiter thinks you are qualified for service, they Nominate you for service. The nomination includes a general position, location, and month of the year. For instance, mine was Education, Africa, October 2010. After receiving this you are now a NOMINEE.

Clearances: After receiving a nomination, you must pass a series of clearances, generally, your legal clearance is first to go through because most of the paperwork needed for this was filled out during the nomination process, although it may still take several months for the clearance to be shown in the Online Toolkit. You must also pass Dental and Medical Clearances. It may be important to note that the Office of Medical Services (OMS) usually will not touch your medical packet if your nominated departure date isn't within four months. Once your receive these three clearances, you ares still considered a Nominee, but your file is transferred to the Placement Office, and eventually to a specific desk (like Education or Community Development).

Invitation/Placement: The last clearance you must receive is a placement clearance, which is the last step prior to being invited to join the Peace Corps. In my case, my placement clearance (meaning they found my qualifications not only sufficient to serve, but in the top of the pool of nominees) and my invitation came in the same email. When you are extended an invitation, your Placement Officer will contact you by email or phone and let you know that you have been invited and to look for an invitation packet. You have a certain number of day to accept the invitation before it 'expires.' Once you officially accept the invitation, you are now considered an INVITEE.

So that's where I am now. After breezing through medical and dental clearances in mid July, I was stuck waiting (again...) on the Peace Corps Office. In mid August I was asked by the Placement office to submit an up-to-date resume and transcript. On a side note, they say your invitation must be extended AT LEAST six week prior to your date of departure because of paperwork processing time. When I had not yet received an invitation at the end of August, I figured I would most likely not be going in October, more like November or December.

However, my invitation came on the 8th of September! When I received the packet two days later, I noticed they wanted me to depart on the 19th of October, just barely making the 6 week deadline (you may notice that the 8th to the 19th is actually one day short of six weeks... the 19th of October is when I leave for staging/orientation, while I actually leave the country on the 21st of October). I will admit I was a little unhinged by the closeness of that date.

I may be one of the lucky ones, one of the rather few whose invitation does not deviate at all from my original nomination. Here's the big news of this all. On October 19th, 2010, I will be departing for the country of Rwanda, where I will teach Math to high-school aged students for 27 months, including three months of training.

I will be maintaining this blog MUCH more frequently that I have been. Expect weekly or bi-weekly updates leading up to my departure. Hopefully I will be able to maintain at least some consistency in posting while overseas.

If you receive this in an email, let me know if you want me to remove your address if you want to simply look it up yourself. Otherwise, you will continue to receive an email with my posts. If there are any questions you have or things you'd like me to discuss, feel free to leave a comment, email me, or call me (if you don;t have the number...sorry). I'll be sure to address anything that anyone wishes to know more about.

Don't forget to be awesome,

-Shawn

Forms and an Interview

2009-11-29T23:33:00.000+02:00

To catch you all up to speed...

After receiving the additional forms Nicole sent me in early November, I mailed them all back to her on the 16th. She call me the next Monday to tell me she had not yet received them and was sending me new copies in case they were lost in the mail. She also gave me my login information for my Toolkit, the handy webpage the Peace Corps uses to update my file. currently it looks like this:
I emailed Nicole back to let her know that my Toolkit shows they did receive my packet. She informed me they indeed have, but are still in processing.

Nicole emailed me yesterday, the 8th, saying that she had attempted to call me, but my number didn't go through. I must have slipped up when I entered it into the application. I quickly called her back, hoping she would still be in the office. Thankfully she was, and after a 20 second hold she located my file and told me she has received both the NAC form and the fingerprint cards I mailed her. I inquired about my toolkit reflecting the absence of my references, which were all submitted electronically with my application. After a little more digging, she confirmed that all that information was present as well.

Then came the statement I was waiting for: "I'd Like to schedule an interview to discuss you application and nomination." This is the first step that has to be taken in order for me to be invited to serve. Because the PC no longer has a Minnesota Office, Nicole and I will do a phone interview tomorrow morning. If all goes well, I'm hoping for a nomination within the week. That will at least ease my worrying a little about what I will do when I graduate in 5 months. Even though a nomination does not guarantee me a spot, it is definitely a step in the right direction.

In the meantime, I am busying myself with prep for my final examinations. Only a week and a half left till the end of the semester!

(Another) New Adventure!

2009-11-15T09:02:00.000+02:00

I commented earlier that I am planning a yet-to-be announced adventure or two this coming summer. As of yet, I still cannot say what it is. Its still very much a surprise. I know I haven't finished my documentary for Scotland yet. The Release Date for that has been changed to January 15th, 2010. I realize this puts it off quite a long time, but I still have LOTS of work to do.

However, I would like to announce another adventure I am hoping to undertake: the Peace Corps.

Becoming a Peace Corpse Volunteer means giving 27 months of service to a foreign culture. Upon departure, I will spend three months training for my specific placement and the remaining two years doing my actual job. I will begin to use this blog to document the entire process. Application, Nomination, Placement, Departure, Training, and Service. All of it will be recorded here. Through all this, this blog (now called Pack. It.Up Adventures in order to allow the incorporation of a wider base of activities) will continue to serve its original function.

I submitted my application for the Peace Corps on November 4th, 2009. To put it into perspective, the copy I printed was about 32 pages long and included my two essays, but did not include my lengthy resume. After submitting the actual application, I had to complete a 'brief' medical questionnaire that included a lot of conditions I've never heard of. I do have to say, though, that filling out all the 'no' boxes made me feel a lot better about my personal health!

On November 6th, I received an email from Nicole Redmond with the Chicago Peace Corps office. The email informed me that she was to be my recruiter and included several additional forms and files. The first two files were programs that I MAY qualify for: Secondary Education in Mathematics and Information & Communication Technology. I found it interesting that a file for Community Development wasn't included. When I email the forms back to Nicole I might ask her about that. Also attached we more forms for me to fill out (notice a trend yet?). The forms included skill description sheets for my teaching experience and my computer science experience. I also have to fill out a loan description sheet for my Federal Loans. Since all of my loans are from the government, they should (if I interpreted that right) stay deferred and subsidized while I serve in the Peace Corps.

I had a good laugh when I noticed that Nicole had also sent me a vegetarian sheet. Apparently I marked somewhere on my application that I am a vegetarian. Of course I'm not, but I had a lot of fun answering the questions on it anyway. I'll still submit it but I'll have to make sure to mention to Nicole that I am not actually a vegetarian. I read through my application and didn't find a box for that. Then again, its 32 pages. I probably missed it.

On November 7th, 2009, I received a large envelope in the regular mail from the Chicago Office that Nicole had sent as well. It contained a NAC background form and 2 fingerprint charts I needed to do. The letter opened with what I consider to be a very positive message:

"Dear Applicant,

Thank you for your interest in the Peace Corps. Your application has been received and will be reviewed in the coming weeks. After this preliminary review, you will be contacted via email with more instructions."

I have until November 18th to submit both the emailed forms and the mailed forms. I also need to submit an unofficial transcript from UMD.

I went to get my fingerprints taken on Friday. I now know I should not have waited...

I drove to the Courthouse in downtown Duluth and headed into the Sheriff's office. They informed me they only do fingerprints on Mondays and Wednesdays. Seeing as how I need the prints to Chicago by Wednesday, I booked an appointment for Monday. I really didn't want to wait till then, so I poked around the web a bit. I called the Hermantown PD to see if they do them. Also on Mondays and Wednesdays. My next turn was the Proctor PD. When I asked them if it were possible to get them done today, the lady informed me they only do them by appointment, but they had an open slot at 3:15 if I could get there in time. It was 2:45. I drove as fast as I could (the speed limit) to get some cash and get down to Proctor. 20 dollars and half an hour later I had 2 fingerprint cards ready to be mailed.

I only have a few minor forms left to collect and fill out before I can mail them back, which will hopefully happen on Monday. Then I wait for the next email.

August Update

2009-08-12T19:21:00.000+02:00

Hey all,

two bits of news.

But first, you'll have to excuse the absences as of late, things have been a little hectic. I'm still working an inflated schedule at the University, and there's no sign of letting up soon. That's good, though, because I'm broke and need money.

First bit of news: I'm happy to report that the Scotland documentary (To The Edge of a Dream) has now moved into the final stages of editing, and should be out for online release by September 8th, 2009. The full length feature will be approx. 35 minutes, with a few shorter versions made for quick digestion.

The big news:

Plans are starting to be solidified for Summer 2010, hence forth to be known as... well, I really haven't come up with a flashy name yet, so it'll be Summer of 2010 for now. I can't divulge the full details and time line yet, but here is what I can tell you.

The summer will start out with another trip up Minnesota's North Shore. I will then head to Colorado. From there I may leave the beaten path (in more ways than one) and head to the Sierra Nevadas. Those, however, are just the small trips for the summer. In mid July I will undertake a new adventure, one unlike anything I'm used to. Preparations have already started, classes are being taken, money raised, equipment checked and rechecked.

I will once again be gone for a month, but this time I will not be alone on my adventure, nor will there be much downtime like in Scotland. Normally, I do all my adventures by myself (hence the Travels of ONE Man). I take a considerable amount of heat for this from my family and friends. SO why do I choose to go solo? While it is potential more dangerous, it is also logistically and physically easier. There is no other person to speed me up or slow me down, to get hurt or be obnoxious. However, given the severity of what this major trip will entail, the relatively long duration, and the added dangers of its style, I have decided that doing this solo would only be more difficult, but downright dangerous and inconsiderate to those that do not wish to see me dead (which is hopefully all of you). Again, I don't want to spoil the surprise, so just hang tight. Its going to be totally awesome!

In addition, two podcast from Bob Cartwright's TGO Challenge 2009 series include interviews with me. They can be found at his website (backpackinglight.co.uk) and under the tab 'podcasts'. There was an article written about my trip that appeared in both the Savage Pacer and the Prior Lake American two weeks ago. Another article will appear this weekend in the Olivia Times-Journal (Renville County Register now I think?) for anyone out that way...that's you grandma and grandpa.

TGO Challenge video.

2009-07-06T20:52:00.000+02:00

With my rest-month of June over, I am starting to publish my Challenge documentaries. The write up is still a good ways out, but the video is coming along well. The trailer is up on YouTube and facebook. The video is also below, but to watch the high quality version, go to either of the sites above.

The weather is nice up in Duluth right now, and I'm hoping to be able to take some spare time and hit some quality trails with quality friends. Gotta start getting ready for the big plans next summer!

The last of the challenge (for now)

2009-05-31T20:42:00.001+02:00

Having just made it back to the states, I send out this final preview of the trip. Many things have gone unmentioned, but will all be covered by the full write up in due time!

Tuesday the 20th of May - Shielen of Mark Bothy to Tarfside.

It seems peculiar to build a stone shelter where the Shielen of Mark is. No matter which way you approach it, you have to cross at least a mile of track less heather bog, not to mention it isn't easy to spot from most of its surroundings.

To get out of the bothy and into Glen Lee towards Tarfside required even more miles of peat hags and bogs, in addition to fording the steam. For this reason our pact of seven set out very earlier. Indeed it was only 630 as we walked towards the water bank. We were somewhat relieved to see the steam was down a good 6 inches, although it still formed a formidable obstacle. With my boots strapped to the pack and my waist belt unclipped, I was in the middle of the group, with Graham last and Barbara sheltered between us. Wading out in front I positioned myself downstream. Graham stayed upstream of Barbara and we safely escorted her across. Not that she would have been unable to without help, it was just generally agreed that this would be much safer.

Once across the water and re-equipped, we began the bog hop and peat hag scramble towards our only landmark, an almost indistinguishable Muckle Cairn. Once atop the low high, we were able to pick up the track and make our way towards Tarfside.

Tarfside itself is no bigger than a small field. It consists of St. Drostains, a hostel that was staffed and open to Challengers, the attached church, some small houses, a camping field, and a Masonic Lodge that also acts as a bar. The hostel itself only held 15 people or so, but there was another 20 tucked in the back meeting room.

The playing field was much more lively, boasting some 67 tents at last count. Coupled with the hostelers, we figured nearly 130 Challengers were present that night. With so many challengers in one place, a pub meeting was inevitable. Ian and Anthony had caught me on the road earlier, and David soon rolled into town as well. A long night, and indeed a longer morning, ensued.

Wednesday the 21st of May - Tarfside to North Water Bridge.

With the smell of the North Sea, there was little variation among routes. Indeed Ian and Anthony headed further north, but I took about the fastest and quickest route possible. Following the road southeast, it has become a Challenge custom to stop in the village of Edzell for some food. And indeed there were a good few challengers there when I arrived, but I chose to pass on the food. Ahead was a 4 mile road walk along a straight and flat bit where no car seemed to notice you.
The caravan site was once again overloaded with challengers. Nightfall saw a 52 tents pitched, and refreshments bought in Edzell were passes about.

Thursday the 22nd of May - North Water Bridge to St. Cyrus.

With only 7 more miles to the coast, all of which were on roads, I took my time breaking camp. Following the random back roads and streets dropped me into the small community of St. Cyrus. Heading towards the beach, a steady stream of Challengers flowed the opposite way. Stopping to congratulate each other and shake hands, it felt like ages before I reached the cliff. Making my way down, I reached the shore in time to catch Steve Smith and Jenny Headscarf. After a short but cold swim, it was a quick lunch t the cafe and a taxi (we managed to miss the bus) into Montrose to report to Finish Control.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Longer by the entry...

2009-05-28T23:07:00.001+02:00

Monday, the 18th of May - Gelder Shiel to Shielen of Mark.

I couldn't face it much longer. Having purged my route of every munro but one, and with only two opportunities left, I decided I would bag at least one today. The original plan was to summit Lochnagar and then continue on the track westwards and then southwards, adding 3 or 4 more summits as well.

The initial climb was going well. When I reported in to Challenge Control the day before on Braemar, I'd been warned that the weather was going to deteriorate once more, but there was a chance the summits would still lie beneath the clouds. About three quarters of the way up a layer of fog rolled in, but I was above it by the time I reached 1000 meters. Making my way to the cairn marking the smaller summit at 1150 meters, the weather quickly closed in around me. At the first cairn I encountered 4 challengers who were from Italy. Having just came the way they planned to descend, I was in the middle of outlining the path on their map when two local gentlemen appeared from the mist who were headed the same way.

Setting of for the short dash to the actual summit at 1156 meters, the wind and the rain picked up dramatically. Reaching the cairn, I took cover among the rocks and fully outfitted myself for the worst. I decided that more high level routes would be dangerous in these conditions, and ditched on my plans to bag more munros. Talking a compass bearing of southeast (visibility was about 5 feet) I quickly descended down what I hoped to be the path to Loch Muick. By the some I was out of the clouds and in tolerable weather, ice was forming on my shoulders and pack. I made my way down the Glass Allt and took a much deserved break. When I met Anthony and Ian in Braemar yesterday, they both has the plan to come over Lochnagar, only from the west side. It worried me to think they must be up there in that storm.

With rain on the horizon I took off for the Loch Muick visitors center, where three challengers awaited. One was Weird Darren (Whitespider1066.com) and another was Jenny Wheeler, who had come to be called Jenny Headscarf because she always wore a bandanna. The third I cannot remember. The final leg of today's jaunt included a tiny track up a gorge valley which eventually died out.

The bothy, unfortunately, lie on the other side of a large peat bog and was tucked into the hill. Its said that you can follow either stream around the hill and run right into the bothy, but with so much rainfall and extra streams I was worried about losing my way. So I took a compass bearing of 111 degrees and trompt off through the bog. Coming to the edge of the bog and with the bothy's steam in sight, I wad concerned that I had somehow lost the bothy. Taking two steps forward revealed that the bothy was a mere 10 feet away.

The Shielen of Mark Bothy is incredibly tiny. There were 4 of us there that night, myself, Steve Smith, the 80 year old Barbara, and her daughter, with several more outside. I was relieved to see Anthony and Ian both arrive in good time. We were all concerned about the stream, however, as it was in spate and very difficult for even a strong person to cross. All we could do was hope the stream would lower by the morning, and we formed a pact to all cross early and together, it was the four of us in the bothy as well as Jenny Headscarf, Graham, and Barbara's niece.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

More TGO Challenge

2009-05-28T13:26:00.001+02:00

Saturday the 16th of May - Bothy in Glen Feshie to Mar Lodge Estate.

With another dismal day coming as far as weather was concerned, I abandoned all thoughts of climbing the Cairngorms and continued on the track through Glen Feshie, which would deposit me at the south end of the Lairig Ghru at White Bridge.

12 of us set out from the bothy that morning on the same track through the Glen, although we were relatively spaced out. A series of small but steep land slips in the Feshie made for an interesting morning, along with more than our fair share of spated rivers. I walked most of the day with Anna (from Poland). After inching my way ahead of her, we met again at white bridge, where we had both originally planned to camp. Ironically, the bridge is not actually white.

However, due to the early hour and wet everything, Anna and I decided to press east towards a Youth hostel marked on the map. Having exerted a fair amount of effort with her large pack, Anna had been able to keep up with me until then. Considering that I was down to a mere 25 pound bag and feeling good, this was some feat. As I trudged along the road and came to the Linn of Dee, I noticed signs from the Mar Lodge Estate welcoming Challengers with free tea and a £15 bed far the night.

Having forgot that Mar Lodge was open to us, I dashed about as fast as my legs would carry me. Now owned by the National Trust for Scotland, Mar Lodge was built as a hunting lodge for some obscure royalty and now sits on some 77,000 acres. Following the signs, I made my way to the Challenge area to find 20 of my fellows already there, including a good portion from the night before. Dinner was served (venison of the estate!) for £5, which was a very hard deal to pass up. But I was still carrying extra GORP and had no plans to carry it any further. Anna pulled in an hour or two later after discovering the Youth Hostel was no longer open. Other challengers included Mike Knipe, Jean Turner, Lilo Lil(Pete), Russ, Bert Hendrikse, and many others.

A fireside chat and two baths later, I curled into the white linens of the finest bed I have ever slept in. 30 seconds later I was asleep.

Sunday the 17th of May - Mar Lodge to Gelder Shiel.

When I'm hiking as late in the day as I was in Scotland, I find it somewhat difficult to get up early. Compound that with a nice bed and the prospect of a short day saw me leaving Mar Lodge at near 9!

From the lodge it was a quick two hour jaunt to Braemar, where a good set of challengers were staying the previous night. On the Challenge, Braemar gets a reputation for being the start of the "pub crawl." for some challengers, they apply the ethos of the event to their consumption of whiskey as well. Even at noon, many of the local eateries were occupied by challengers. The first place several challengers flagged me into was Gordon's, perhaps the first non house I passed. An hour later I made my first of many attempts to depart Braemar, but got pulled in to the classic challenge hotel, the Fife Arms. Several hours later, I made it about another half kilometer to the local chippy where the Four Yorks pulled me in for the remains of their chips. Facing a three hour walk to the bothy, I finally hoofed out of Braemar at near 5.

It was them through the Queen's estate, aka the Balmoral Estate. Such a lovely place to walk through! Heading towards Lochnagar, a munro I hoped to reach tomorrow, I arrived at Gelder Shiel Bothy just in time to claim a spot inside. Several familiar faces were about, which was easy given the 30 of us that were there.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Another day remembered

2009-05-25T18:14:00.001+02:00

Friday the 15th of May - Newtonmore campsite to Ruighaiteachain (think ru-ah-atee-chan) Bothy.

By the start of week two, my food weight on my kit had dropped from 26 pounds to near 13 pounds, making things a bit easier. That was off set slightly when I discovered that I move much slower with alcohol still pumping through my veins.

And so it was quite a task to keep up with Anthony and David (who clearly were less effected by the alcohol and still able to move at our normal fast pace) but we all rolled into Kingussie in fairly good time. Having just posted 300 grams of maps home, Anthony chose to offset the weight difference with a few cans of beer. Ian caught up with us, but dashed off to the train station to make a phone call. With all four of us moving our separate ways soon anyway, the three of us set off foe Ruthven Barracks and onto Tromie bridge. There, david and Anthony would continue further north on the road and part ways a bit later. At the bridge we once again ran into the four yorks. I walked with them until the edge of the Inshriach forest, where they too continued north while I cut through the southern edge of the forest. That track would bring me into Glen Feshie, but not before I ran into two more challengers, a husband and wife team whose names escape me (this may be a reoccuring trend). I left them as they broke for lunch and continued on towards the Feshie.

Once I reached the river I had to face cutting even more munros from my route. My main route took me up the west side of the Cairngorms and to a high level camp at the Wells of Dee. However I made the decision to NOT move up the summits and instead followed the FWA towards the bothy.

In hindsight, this was perhaps the best decision I made. Winds on top of the plateau where I'd planned to camp would have been too strong even to walk in. In addition, my only safety net wed have been to ditch down into the Lairig Ghru and into Corrour Bothy.

Corrour bothy is in fact so small that i've heard with even just 5 people you have your legs hanging out the door. Those who chose to come ever the Lairig Ghru that day got hit so hard with the weather that almost all of them ditch onto the bothy. By nightfall 14 people were holled up in that bothy, including one of the 80 year old challengers, Barbara. With almost no chance (nor desire) to pitch a tent exposed at 600 meters, the "Corrour 14" as they became known must have been sleeping shoulder to shoulder on the floor.

In contrast, there were perhaps 10 of us in Ruighaiteachain Bothy. at 350 meters and among the trees, there were a good amount of people pitched outside as well. The bothy was well stocked with firewood by the Feshie estate so we had a blazing fire all night long. Famed Challenger Jean Turner was there as well, and Anna from Poland.

I wasn't too bummed about missing out on the summits that day. I knew deep down that I made the correct decision, and that the hills would ways be there. Curdled up by the fire with my shoes and socks finally getting dry (a relative term) I had the best sleep in a week.

If you were on the challenge and are reading this, do not hesitate to correct any errors you see. If you have more accurate information or walked/stayed with me, please let me know so I can include that information.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Blog plan and four more days of recall

2009-05-25T11:56:00.001+02:00

When I make it back to the states on the 1st of June, there will be a full write-up about the Challenge. This will include:

An explanation and history of the Challenge
What hiking in Scotland is like
Gear and food lists
The planning process
Day 0 in Oban
A greatly expanded day by day section
Statistics/mileage
Tons of photos
Afterthoughts

Secondly, there will once again be a 3318 documentary produced from the photo and video of the challenge.

Lastly, there will be a 1-hour presentation on the Challenge and the culture of the Scottish Highlands. This is in coordination with the Alworth Institute at UMD and is currently set for THURSDAY, OCTOBER 8th at 12noon in the library at UMD.

On with the recall:

Monday the 11th of May - Loch Cairian Bothy to Lairig Leacach Bothy.

After the hard long day yesterday and the unplanned bog-hopping near the end, I was reluctant to leave the bothy. After waiting until noon for socks to dry, I made my way further north, passing Loch Treig and on into the Lairig Leacach towards Roybridge. I stopped at the bothy and once again cancelled my plans to summit the two munros to the east.

Tuesday the 12th of May - Lairig Leacach Bothy to Luib-Chonnel Bothy

The original plan out of the bothy that morning was to make for Tulluck station and wild camp at Tom Mor at near 800 meters. The summits would have been clear and an ascent was possible, but my battered and blistered feet had already endured enough. Feeling a little down about canceling more summits from my route, I made my way into Roybridge. The problem here arises that, although called Roybridge, there is no actual bridge over the river Spean. This forced me to add 3k moving towards Speanbridge and quickly (and slightly illegally) dashing across an active railroad bridge. After walking back along the river and reaching the south end of Glen Roy, it was time to phone Challenge Control to report in.

It was then that I learned the scattered showers I had in Oban had translated much heavier further north. The combination of rain, wet ground, and now burning heat had caused some 30 Challengers to drop out. Suddenly I felt much better about myself and pressed on up Glen Roy, reaching Luib-Chonnel Bothy by 8.

Having traveled north for 5 days now, I had seen very few challengers. When I reached the bothy, however, there were several challengers camped outside and a few more inside. After a good discussion and a goodnight I went up to the loft and once again passed out.

Wednesday the 13th of May - Luib-Chonnel Bothy to Gharva Bridge wildcamp.

Having not camped high in the mountains last night and instead moved up Glen Roy, I was rather far ahead of schedule (at a time when the rain had put some people a day behind). Leaving late once again (me and mornings don't do well) I followed the track around towards Melgarve Bothy, finally turning east. When I reached this bothy, a healthy number of challengers were having lunch. Melgarve sits at the intersection of Glen Roy and the Corryarick Pass, so it acts as a natural funnel.

Deciding that 2pm was too early to stop for the day, I moved a bit further east to Gharva bridge, where we ended the day with some 12 tents all told. While pitching my tent I chatted with Anthony, who was pitched next to me. A few moments later, Ian came and joined us. Both had come over the Corryarick that morning and I had met both at Melgarve bothy a few hours before. As the lighted faded, the 4 yorks came strolling on. The 4 were carrying large packs and moved perhaps slower than I, but then again so did most, and the 4 were physically fit enough to be able to easily handle their loads. After munching down some gorp and watching the sunset with Anthony, I bedded down for the night.

Thursday the 14th of May - Gharva bridge wildcamp to Newtonmore campsite

Waking slightly after most of the others along the river, I made my oatmeal and hot cocoa and proceeded to break camp. Anthony left just before I did, heading off towards Laggan Stores with David, who was camped just on the other side of me. Within an hour, Ian and I were trudging down the pavement towards the shop, and nearly caught David and Anthony before we arrived at Laggan.

In addition to having a public flush toilet, laggan makes a very convenient resupply point because the store there stocks nearly everything. However, as we were heading into Newtonmore anyway, that would be a better resupply point and I ready had plenty of food.

The 4 Yorks appeared as we were leaving, and we continued on the road for a bit. Just as we reached the castle, Ian Anthony and I turned north to bypass some of the pavement and get into the hills a little. David continued along the road as it was shorter and his leg had started to hurt a bit. After stopping at a cozy estate bothy, we continued on to Newtonmore, where Ian was booked in at a B&B and the rest of us continued to the campsite.

It was once again time to phone Control, where I was advised that the sunshine of the previous 4 days was about to run out.

As Anthony David and I made our way to the bar, we were met once again by the 4 Yorks, who were also heading for the campsite. Ian met us at the pub, and a good time was had by all.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

2009-05-25T01:12:00.001+02:00

With the TGO Challenge a smashing success, I now find myself in Glasgow with no plans. For the next week I will take in the culture and atmosphere of the lower part of Scotland. Now that I am able to keep my phone charged I should be able to keep making routine updates.

For those who cannot wait until I make it back to the states, here is a quick rundown of the 2009 TGO Challenge. Please note that these will be short and quick as i'm typing on a 3 inch screen. It is also in dire need of a spell check.

Friday the 8th of May - Oban to Cadderlie bothy.

It was hard waking up after the celebrations with the hostel staff the night before, but I somehow managed to organize the kit and meander down to the youth hostel to sign out. A good few of the challengers had stayed at the youth hostel itself (presumably to avoid the kilometer walk I had before I actually signed off) and I passed them in a steady stream along the coast. I stopped and chatted with a few, including one who knew I MUST be the young american on a solo crossing. But the scattered rain drew the conversation to a halt as he darted off for the ferry to Lismore and I ducked in to sign out.

As it were there are very few good ways out of Oban. Probably the most common is to catch a ferry to the small island of Lismore and then again later in the day to Appin. Another is to head east and come around the south side of Loch Etive. However, as I was heading as far north as Glen Roy, I opted to head for Connel and the falls of Lora, then along the west side of the loch.

After tromping up the gravel road for a bit and getting passed by quite a few royal mail trucks, I ran into my first set of Challengers. Low and behold, it was Bob and Rose Cartwright, with their daughter Beth in tow. I recognized Bob immediately from his podcasts, which I had used extensively to plan my crossing. The 4 of us walked on to the bridge where the Cartwright were heading further up the coast before turning in land in a few days time. So by myself once again, I followed the road and navigated around the Bonawe Query before coming to the bothy to end the day.

Saturday the 9th of May - Cadderlie both to wild camp at Kinlochetive.

A relatively uneventful day as it rained and I walk on disappearing trails and wet ground. After reaching the head of Loch Etive, I crossed the river in hopes Kinlochetive Both was still open, but to no avail.

My high level route took me up Ben Starav, but the high wind and snowfall on top cancelled those plans. I found a decent flat spot to camp and pitched down early for the night.

Sunday the 10th of May - wild camp at kinlochetive to Loch Chairian Bothy.

Showers persisted through the early morning and I headed back across the river to pick the track back up for the Lairig Groutain. As I was making my way along the road, I spotted three walkers approaching from behind, and quickly recognized them as the Cartwrights. Their coastal path had run out earlier than expected and they had come over the hills through the not so great weather the day before. Happy to beck in company, we trudged up the pass with me in the rear, still trying to get used to the added weight of 14 days of food in my bag. At the top of the pass they continued on towards Kinlochleven and I climbed east to summit Stoab Dearg. After a hairy but fast descent, I bushwhacked a few kilometers north to the Black water Damn. After hurrying across, I attempted to follow the non-exsistant path towards the bothy, which turned into a heather bog. With the last rays of light, I stumbled into the bothy at nearly 1030 and proceeded to peal the soaked socks off my aching feet and pass out on the floor in my sleeping bag.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

TGO Challenge complete

2009-05-19T13:08:00.000+02:00

Walk across Scotland.

Check.

With a short 8 mile walk and a cold dip in the North Sea at St. Cyrus, I completed the TGO Challenge today, successfully traversing the country in 14 days. Now in Montrose, I will remain here until saturday, when a train will take me to back to Glasgow. More news then!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

One step closer

2009-05-07T13:42:00.000+02:00

Well, today is the day I leave Glasgow for my start-point, the town of Oban.

When I awoke this morning I was greeted by a welcome omen: the sun was shining and no rain was falling. After packing up my gear for the Challenge, I rounded up the rest of my belongings and checked them in with the hostel front desk. My train left at 12:20, so I was near an hour and a half early getting to the station. When I arrived, a small band of challengers had already accumulated. The first person to approach me was Dave, another first-timer who recognized me from my rucksack. It so happens that Dave is also using Golite's Pinnacle. After meeting several more challengers, including uncle Roger, our coordinator, and a pint of beer courtesy of Dave (thanks again), we headed for the train : Dave in the back half bound for his start-point, Shiel Bridge, and me on the front half, bound for Oban.

At 9 tomorrow morning i'll head down to the Youth Hostel to sign the official TGO Challenge logbook, and then the challenge will officially be on.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Greetings from Glasgow!

2009-05-06T01:24:00.000+02:00

Greetings!

I have arrived in Glasgow and am getting prepared far the hike. So far, not one kilt...

It rained most of the day yesterday as well as today. I hope tomorrow will be a little nicer, but I can handle the rain.

The next leg of my journey starts on thursday morning, when I will travel 100 miles by train up the west coast to Oban. at 9 am friday morning my hike will officially be underway.

All is well so far, and everything seems to be falling into place nicely. I still cannot believe this is actually going to happen!

Farewell for now
Shawn
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Scotland 2009: Final Farewell

2009-05-03T08:53:00.000+02:00

Well guys, this is it. In a matter of hours I will be arriving at the airport, getting ready to travel halfway around the world. Check this out:

180 miles my car. 4883 miles by plane. 10 miles by bus. 104 miles by train.

250 miles by foot. Talk about some travel.

It certainly has been an experience so far. I'd me more than satisfied having it just be over now, but I find that would be a waste (and I'm too excited!). We all know something like this isn't easy to pull off, logistical or physically. Shortened semesters, too many work hours, late nights planning routes, gear tests (the rain suit test in the shower was probably the most fun), worry, panic, calm down, panic five minutes later. Its been a long time coming, but now the trip is here. It is finally time to say my goodbye.

And with that I wish to thank everyone whose helped me with the project. I thank everyone whose let me complain about my problems to them. Without you guys, I'd be even more of a nervous wreck.

I do plan on updating this blog during the trip. I may also do some twitter along the way. Should you need me, I hope it can wait till June!

Sianara,
Shawn

High Track, Low Track: Experience Either Way

2009-05-03T08:13:00.000+02:00

Google Maps

The above link takes you to probably the most time-consuming part of this Challenge. It details, in full, exactly where I plan to walk once in Scotland.

The map here shows the Main Level route. This is the route that I hope to take the most often, as it is the longer of the two, and contains the most challenge. After clicking the above link, you'll find another one for my username (grun0177). Clicking that will take you to the other two maps for this Challenge.

The second map is my Fowl Weather Alternative. Should the weather close in on me and make hiking a little more dangerous, I'll stick to this Route. My FWA is almost always the quickest way between two points, and never exposes myself or goes above 600 meters. It'll function as a backup plan in case the Main Route becomes infeasible.

The third maps is place marks. You'll notice, the usual. Hotels, cities, airports. There are, however, a series of blue and yellow marks. The blue marks represent a Munro I expect to climb, while the yellow marks represent a Corbett. The Munro's are the common name for mountains above 3,000 feet (910 Meters), while the Corbetts are between 2,500 feet and 3,000 feet tall. In total, there are 284 Munros and 220 Corbetts.

You'll also notice that my path is in no way a straight line. In fact, it is rather like a semi-circle. This is partly due to a series of rather wide mountain ranges being in the way, but really because its more fun this way!!!

Food List: Light and Fast (delicious, too!)

2009-05-03T07:46:00.000+02:00

Traditionally, you think of backpackers with these gaudy freeze-dried meals of things like lasagna and beef stew. However, these meal are not only expensive, but heavy and inefficient. The taste is all right, but still more on the side of cardboard...

A method that I adopted from one Andrew Skurka is much more efficient. Referred to as the 'calorie drip' method, it is designed to keep food in your stomach and give you calories throughout the day, instead of just all at once. While food is something personal that all backpackers need to determine for themselves, I feel that this system would work very very well for just about anyone!

From the chart above, you can see the full breakdown. Here's a brief explanation:

I start out in the morning with hot cocoa, two oatmeal packets, and a Snickers bar. The hot cocoa is main just because hot liquids after a cold night feel amazing. The Snickers give me a real quick shot of sugar and fat, just long enough to keep me energized until the more complex energy stored in the oatmeal can kick in.

About every two hours, I take a 5-minute break and have a snack. Every meal, save breakfast, is designed to be eaten on the move, minimizing the time I am forced to stop. First comes an Attain bar fro Melaleuca, which gives me an all-around nutritional input. At the same time is a serving of GORP(peanuts, M&M's, and raisins), which gives me an extra boost of energy for the day. Twice a day I have 3 ounces of Pringles, which equates to a can a day. Some of you may be going "wait, Pringles? Why on Earth?" Pringles have an extremely high calorie-to-ounce ratio, making them extremely efficient. In addition, the contain a good amount of both sodium and fat.

You may notice that I have no dinner. I find dinner time is a pretty poor time to be eating food. When you eat large amounts of food juts before you fall asleep, you body cannot fully metabolize the nutrition. While eating before bed may help keep you warmer, it also produces a great deal more body fat, effectively wasting those nutrients.

While I will be consuming nearly 4,000 calories a day, this food will not be enough to maintain by body weight. In fact, I anticipate that I will lose somewhere between 5 and 10 pounds in these 14 days. However, I've analyzed every piece of this list, and am confident that this layout is exactly what I need to get me across Scotland.

Scotland Gear: You Ain't Got No Alibi (But I Do!)

2009-04-27T03:14:00.000+02:00

With only 4 days before I leave Duluth and start my Journey to Scotland, my brain is on overload and my body can;t take much more stress. I remember the six month mark, and even then I was worried about time. Not too worry, my brain can handle it!

However, I still have so much to do. Two group projects and a 20-page paper are still incomplete, and I have three finals to take on Thursday. In addition, it was recently finalized that I will be presenting a spotlight presentation on Scotland's Highland Culture for the Alworth Institute for International Studies here in Duluth on October 8th. Because of that, I have just another small stack of paper added to the slowly diminishing heap that is my desk.

I mentioned in my last post (nearly a full month ago!!) that I had two new pieces of gear. One was the Contrail Tent, which I already posted about, and the other finally made its way to my door. One of the minor oversights on made on the Superior Trail was not having a pair of gloves. In addition to warmth, gloves would have helped with the chaffing from the trekking poles (not very pleasant). Because of those two main reasons, I've spent the last few months trying on glove after glove, looking for one that is jsut what I need.

THE GLOVES
For this trip, I have decided to again go with a brand that is very familiar with the outdoors; Outdoor Research. While they make many fine gloves designed to keep your hands warm, they are all pretty bulky. The ones I settled on are the Alibi Gloves.

Pioneered for ice climbers, the Alibi has sticky palms that allow better grip rain or shine. Constructed Mainly out of Neoprene and Nylon, the Alibi hugs your palm and fingers tight enough to keep the water out while still allowing you to perspire and not feel waterlogged. The outside edge, along the pinky, is injected with a gel padding to cushion impacts and resist scraps. The cuff, made out of Neoprene as well, has been thermo-formed to contour tightly to the wrist, stopping water from entering there as well.

The Alibi Gloves also have pull-loops on the wrist to make them easier to get on. The velcro straps have a bite strip on the end, allowing you to still be able to put the glove on when your other hand is full. At 5.4 ounces, they are extremly light when compared to the 1 pound alternatives.

At first, I was concerned about their ability to keep my hands warm. However, I wore them for close to and hour in my apartment and my hands were starting to sweat. I suppose having the Neoprene that tight against your hand is what does it. After all, Neoprene isn't that thick of a meterial.

I'll make two posts before I board the place; one detailing my Route and another with the final farewell before I leave. However, both of these will ahve to wait till after thursday night so I can get my homework done!