OK. Mefloquine-induced anxiety slowly dissipating. From the sounds of everyone's emails, you are all as disappointed as I but wait, things aren't necessarily as grim as I first suspected.
First, I don't think Cathy is entirely to blame for my predicament. She is desperately trying to work something out between the Mayor, the orphanage and us volunteers (3). I can't remember what I wrote in my last post but the important feature you need to know is that the soldiers were the ones preventing us from staying at the orphanage because of security risks. Carly and I, in a self-righteous manner that only I can pull off in full form, decided that we were needed and damn it, we were going to march right up there and help those kiddies. So, yesterday we went to the Rwaza orphanage to see the children and their environment. I was quite shocked to see 50 smiling happy faces, full bellies, toys and books and almost a 1:1 ratio of children to adults. I was expecting a much more squalid and heart-breaking situation from the descriptions provided by my volunteer organization. Needless to say I was simultaneously pleasantly surprised and feeling foolish.
There was a great deal of community support from other local mommas and of course fom the nuns. Apparently, three years ago, these kids were NOT so happy and healthy and a great deal of money has been pumped into the institution by Cathy, people like me and tourists that Cathy or others have brought to the orphanage. And now to the catch- as soon as the orphanage got attention, it subsequently began attracting jealousy from poor villagers and the like in the surrounding Rwaza area. In Africa, a problem is never just what is seen on the surface and this is no exception. Orphanages and schools that receive sponsorship in this part of the world are frquently used for profit by people with nothing else to exploit; not bad people, just desperate. The local community is there supporting those children because all of the foreign money has bought seeds, tools, food and other such supplies that they too need. At this location, I would not only be as useless as tits on a bull (not being able to speak Kinyarwanda nor knowing anythign about cultivating edible foods) but I would also be drawing negative attention to these kids if I selfishly pushed myself on this community that does not want nor need me.
Cathy is living what I had only planned to visit. She has left all of the comforts of her North American lifestyle to dedicate herself to a country she fell in love with. Her heart is in the right place and she is working in (hopefully) the right direction but this land is steeped in memories of colonialism followed by mass WHITE evacuations during the genocide. The community here is not only resistant to further white interference but extremely resentful when one family or person gets something that the rest of the community did not. I have been schooled harshly and quickly in the realities of humanitarian aid at its worst. As a wise man once told me, the road to hell is paved with good intentions and when I have more time to elaborate on that statement, I will. For now I leave you to stew on it for yourself.
I would however, like to let you all in on what I plan to do with the next 3 months of my life. First, I plan to acquire every bit of knowledge I can from the amazing people I have met here, especially Romy whom I will write more about later. I will stay here for a couple more weeks, work on some solar ovens and visit another aid project in Kigali. After that, I will have to fill you in as I fill it in for myself.
Till another day...
