I’ve been sanctioned…

After I left Malawi (see below) I was on the road to Victoria Falls, the seventh wonder of the natural world.  The falls can be seen from either Zambia or Zimbabwe, and because of my geographical location in Malawi, I decided to go through Zimbabwe.  Foreign Policy magazine recently ranked Zimbabwe as the second worst failed state in the world (after only Somalia).  I was prepared for poor infrastructure, poverty and general chaos upon arriving in the capital city of two million people, Harare.  When I got off the bus, however, I was amazed at the modernity of this “failed state.”  Tall buildings, parks, fast food restaurants and busy, yet organized, traffic reminded me of a small city somewhere in the suburbs of the United States!  While there are great problems with the government (they now use the U.S. dollar as official currency because they lost control of their own) and I saw many instances of extreme poverty, this capital city gives a great first impression. Outside of the city there are some interesting sites and I chose to visit the balancing rocks in Epworth and the rock paintings in Domboshawa.

 

Bored with rocks I quickly departed the capital and traveled by bus and then train on to Victoria Falls, with the overnight train ride with personal sleeper (for only $7!) being my absolute favorite travel experience in the last two months.  The falls are impressive, as I suppose they should be if they are one of the wonders of the world.  I visited in the heart of dry season, however, and the flow was a little low, but still enough to get me pretty wet from the spray.  As usual, my amateur attempt at photographing this wonder leaves much to be desired!

Victorial Falls is known for its adventure sports.  Everything from rafting to bungee jumping to sky diving.  I was playing with the idea of doing something crazy when the money problem began.  The money problem being that the United States still has sanctions in place against Zimbabwe, including a clause that doesn’t allow money from US accounts to be withdrawn in the country.  That means this guy, who thought maybe it was a bad machine or miscommunication took his ATM problems lightly until he was left with only $14!  With the help of many friends and some luck hitch-hiking I made it to the border on only $9 and got to the nearest ATM in Botswana to finally get some cash.

After that I continued straight south to meet up with fellow DeWittian Matt”Regular” Dean in Gaborone, Botswana to relax for a few days.  We crashed a few birthday parties and snuck into the university pool, a great break from hectic travel and strangers.

This morning I took the bus to Johannesburg, South Africa, where I am waiting (10 hours) for my onward bus to Durban.  Joburg is a bustling city, the most developed I’ve seen in Africa (I had a real Big Mac for lunch!).  The best part is that there is still world cup paraphernalia all over the city.  It almost feels like its still happening!

Where is the Love?

This morning I was listening to the Black Eyed Peas song, asking where all the love in the world has gone.  I generally like to take a pessimistic view with musicians on this stand, but honestly, I’ve received much love recently.

Some days ago I arrived from Zanzibar to Moshi, in Tanzania to meet up with fellow Kohawk, Kim Hoff, who is student teaching there.  I kind of just showed up and suprised her, but she and her friends very very gracious and generous in hosting me.  Moshi is a nice little town sitting on the base of Africa’s highest peak, Mt. Kilimanjaro.  I was there for four days visiting the town, swimming in waterfalls on the slopes of the mountain, checking out the school and having a few Kohwak, Flunk Day Committee nights (if you aren’t a Kohawk you just won’t understand!)

I told Kim that my next stop was the Lake of Stars music festival in Malawi and she was so intrigued that she scrapped her own break plans of safari to join me (with her room mate’s brother, Andy).  For the next six days we journeyed from northern Tanzania to Southern Malawi on bus, car, Land Rover boat, truck and foot, while never paying for a place to sleep.

Day 1: Depart Moshi early in the morning and ride the bus for eight hours arriving in Dar Es Salaam.  Kim calls her friend amazing friend Megan who picks us up, takes us to her apartment to change and get ready to go out.  For the second Saturday night in a row I spend the entire night at a dance club and get on a bus as the sun was coming up.

Day 2: Try to sleep on the crowded, hot, broken-seated bus to Mbeya.  For above reasons, fail to sleep  I text my brother’s friend, Stephanie, and she insists that we divert and stay at her house for the night where she has dinner, beers and a cozy bed waiting for us!

Day 3: The decision is made to head south and chance a lake crossing rather than the longer, sure-bet overland route.  The morning starts with our travel staple, chips myai, a french-fry-omelet street food.  Take two short busses and get stuck en-route in a small town called Mbinga in the evening, frustratingly close to the lake we want to cross.  While asking for rides at the gas station, we are approached by an Indian man who advises us it isn’t safe to drive at night and insists we get in his car.  Kim is a little afraid, but I see the “Vincentian Fathers” logo on the door and reassure her.  Father Emmanuel takes us to his community’s house to feed us and give us a room.  In the morning he gives us breakfast, a ride into town and arranged transport for us.  We try to donate to his school, but he insists that he will only accept prayers.

Day 4:Bump along in an out-dated, uncomfortable, bumpy Land Rover for the morning on the rough, although very scenic road to Mbamba Bay, the port where we hope to find a ferry to Malawi.  We learn that the ferry has left hours before our arrival and our only hope is to hire a private boat for $800.  Defeated, we set up our tent on the beach next to the boat and continue to beg the owner, other boat owners  and immigration officers to get us to Malawi so we can make it to the festival.  In classic African style, nobody knows when the next boat will leave, what a fair price would be or is any big hurry to do anything.  We eat more chips myai, washed down with Kilimanjaro Lager and sleep on the beach.

Day 5: We learn that the boat is leaving this night!  Ecstatic, we walk out of town and find a beautiful deserted beach to swim and relax to kill the 14 hours before the boat leaves.  Mbamba is a nice little town (with no electricity) but there isn’t much to do.  We convince the boat owner that our (much reduced from $800) ticket price should include a beer at his bar.  One turns into many and we stumble onto the boat which departs at midnight.  It isn’t a comfortable ride (the fish smell from the hold doesn’t help) but it suffices as another free place to sleep.

Day 6: After arriving at Nkhata Bay, Malawi (finally!) we get excited and jump out of the boat before the boat is even tied up.  We are immediately stopped before leaving the dock: we need to wait for an hour for the immigration office to open.  Still a full day’s bus journey from the festival and being literally within sight of departing buses, this may be the longest hour of our journey, and we’re not stuck on a stationary boat.  We finally get through immigration, change money and catch a bus.  For the first time in a week we are cautiously confident that we’re going to make it to the opening act!  The bus stops about 100 miles from our destination at 3:00 p.m.  Not bad by normal standards, but in Africa this is still risky.  The first leg is an hour in a crowded mini bus which drops us at a fork in the road in the middle of nowhere.  We then jump into the back of a loaded truck with about 15 other people, sacks of corn flour and rice, boxes of fish and live chickens for our last leg.  The driver lies to us about the route and takes us about an hour out of the way, backtracking to pick up another box of fish.  I eventually get bored and am allowed to drive the truck for the last hour.  After dark, we finally arrive and set up camp, too tired to properly celebrate.

The festival was simply amazing, with musicians from accross Africa and Europe.  The days consisted of sleeping and relaxing by the pool, or playing life-size chess and we stayed up every night until dawn listening to amazing musicians and dancing with hoppin DJs.  They know how to party in Malawi!

The Swahili Coast

I’ve spent the last few days on the Indian Ocean on the coast of East Africa.  More specifically I visited Lamu (Kenya) and Zanzibar (Tanzania).  While I do love perfect white sand beaches, warm sun and boat rides, I’m digging the culture more.

The Swahili coast is the result of ancient trade routes between Africa, Arabia and India.  What resulted was a mixed people, Language and culture that is now known as Swahili.  These towns are filled with Blacks, Arabs, Indians, Christians, Muslims, Rastas and every sort of mixture of those identities possible.

The Swahilis also live in these paradise islands.  They were once strategic points for trade and agriculture, because of their ease of access, but today they are mostly geared for fishing and tourism.  The towns remain untouched and walking through the narrow passages in “Stone Town” one could easily think they are living in the 1700s!

And as with almost every African culture I’ve come into contact with, the people here are great.  Friendly, easy going people who are living a nice island paradise life.  While the Rastas do throw in the Jamaican “ya mon,”  most people’s tag-line is “Hakuna Matata”  (no problem, we’re free).

And my favorite part… FISH! I haven’t eaten good seafood for over a year in land-locked Rwanda, so needless to say, the fresh-catch seafood combined with the amazing Swahili spices has me in heaven.

This is the mighty “Zeitum” the dhow (Swahili sailboat) that I took a day tour for some fishing and beach relaxing.  I didn’t catch any fish, but the captain did and we had fresh caught barbequed fish on the beach.

Hand-carved doorframe from stonetown: Lamu

The seafood spread in Zanzibar.  A street buffet where you choose what you want from the vendor and he cooks it right there on his grill! (The Barracuda was excellent!)

 

Looking out my hotel in Stonetown, Zanzibar.  Small stone streets that aren’t big enough for cars (there aren’t any cars in Lamu anyway!) make for close quarters with every person, moped, donkey or camel that may be passing through!

A step into the past

I have spent the last few weeks traveling in the unique and beautiful country of Ethiopia.  Historically, Ethiopia differs from the rest of Africa with a rich ancient past and written language, including little influence from European colonialism.  It also differs with is choice of food and drink including delicious coffee and the grain, tef, lending itself to tasty creations found nowhere else.   Ethiopia is a remarkable place.

The first stop I made was with my friends Van and Chris to do some hiking in the Simien Mountain range.  This was my first true experience with backpack hiking/camping and, except for the rain, cold and hail, I enjoyed my time.

The landscape in the Simien resembles something of a mix between the astounding heights of the Rocky Mountains, breathtaking cliffs and drops of the Grand Canyon with a green covering resembling the Appalachians.  I took some photos of the landscapes, but most days it was too foggy for photography, and, as always, photos just diminish the spectacular sights.  We did, however, get to see some interesting wildlife, including the Gelda baboon and Walia ibex, which can only be seen in this place in the world.  On a couple occasions we just sat and watched the group of baboons playing around, stunning me at how close the mannerisms of these animals are to our own primate species (humans!).

In addition to the amazing views and wildlife we stopped in a village for a traditional coffee ceremony at local person’s home.  Ethiopia claims to be the country where coffee originated, and judging by how well they make it here, I can’t argue.  After declining three times we were served a plate of injera (the bread/pancake staple) with a sour milk/cottage cheese concoction and the traditional three cups of coffee in the traditional grass hut.

Our three days concluded with a spectacular panoramic view at Imet Gogo before the hike back to town.  We completed about 100 kilometers in a matter of four days without incident until the last 20 minutes where we sprinted to the first house we could find to avoid the pelting. bruising hailstorm!  The beauty and power of nature kept me in balance until the last minute!

After leaving the mountains and splitting ways with Chris and Van I continued North to check out some of Ethiopia’s spectacular history.  The oldest civilization to be recorded in Africa is the Yeha kingdom dating back to approximately the 4th Century B.C.  There isn’t a whole lot remaining from this time, but I saw the one wall from an old temple that remains, and some inscriptions and stone symbols paying tribute to the sun and moon, the object of Yeha’s religious loyalties.

 

After the fall of Yeha rule, the Axumite kingdom came to rise.  The city of Axum was the capital of this civilization, which was a powerhouse of the time, a regular acquaintance and partner of its European and Arabian counterparts.  Its most known for its ancient and imposing stelae, which pay tribute to the leaders of the kingdom.  The most impressive are over 30 meters tall and date back before the 4th Century A.D.!

 

One of these great stelea fell around the fourth century, which the kings took as a sign to convert to Christianity.  They then erected a magnificent Ethiopian Orthodox church dedicated to the Virgin Mary where (they claim) the Ark of the Covenant is housed.  Only one monk is allowed to see the actual ark, however, so its shrouded, quite literally, in mystery.

While the city of Axum was converting to Christianity, its influence spread and churches started springing up around the country.  The most remarkable, however, didn’t spring up, but rather were carved out!  Yes, the ancients decided that the best way to construct churches was to carve them directly out of stone, rather than erecting the stones.  They also, as I think is consistent with human-adventure-spirit, decided to put them in the most precarious places possible.  They are scattered across Northern Ethiopia, but my favorite by far was Abuna Yemata Guh, which required an hour hike and 15 minute climb to reach.  I’m terrified of climbing and heights, and this was no exception, but the reward was well worth the fear as I tight-rope walked a stone ledge over a 200 meter drop to cover the last steps to the door of the church.  This shot is from the front of the church looking down to the baptismal chamber.  Yes, people still haul their newborns up here!

 

The final stage of Ethiopia’s history that I explored was the reign of St. King Laliabela, around the 13th Century.  He’s most known for his miraculous construction (in some cases literally overnight with the help of Jesus or the saints!) of the 11 rock-hewn churches left behind in his capital.  Again, the amazing thing about these churches is that they are completely monolithic, meaning that they are entirely one piece, carved from rock.  Wandering through these mammoth structures, I too believe that there must have been some divine intervention in their construction.  The is Bet Giyorgis, dedicated to St. George.

And I’m finally back to present day Ethiopia, sitting here in Addis Ababa at the Salesian community, waiting for my plane tomorrow to fly me back to Kenya.  I have many great transportation, hotel, party and interaction stories that I can’t wait to share with my friends and family when I return home.  I need to save something to talk about!

I Saw…

I saw this video for the first time today, and its such a perfect song for me to say goodbye to Rwanda.  Yes, after one full year, tomorrow I get on a bus and leave the Land of a Thousand Hills.  And as the song portrays, I have seen, felt, learnt, appreciated and loved so much in the past year.  I’m struggling to pinpoint my feelings and emotions of this goodbye.  The last year of my life has been one of immense joy, happiness, sorrow, frustration and humility.  If you have talked to me recently, you know that I am indeed happy to leave, happy to open the next chapter.  At the same time, it is always difficult to say goodbye; difficult to know that you will never see a person who you have loved ever again.  This place, these people and the last year will hold a special place in my heart for the rest of my life.

I’ll save the rest of the sentiment for my journal.  Tomorrow   evening I get on a bus headed for Nairobi, where I will fly to meet a friend in Ethiopia, and then a friend in Tanzania, and hopefully I’ll continue to make friends and have new places to visit.  I have a backpack, a guidebook, a new pair of shoes and a terrible bout of wanderlust.  I hope Africa is as ready as I am.

Gatenga Olympics 2010

After both Chris and I received very generous donations and gifts from our friends and family at home, we decided that we needed a way to best use these things.  With the semester ending, I was brought back to the end of the school year at home to what was always my favorite day of the year – field day.

Chris and I spent an afternoon racking our brains and planning out games and events for our foyer boys.  Along with some friends at the center (and Chris’ brother, a first grade teacher) we organized a pretty fun day.  Maybe its because I have such fond memories of field day myself, but watching the boys enjoying themselves on our planned day will be one of my best memories of Rwanda.

We planned six events and had the boys split into six groups, but, as with everything here, we had to change the day, the time and   the number of events and teams.  So we were left with a soccer-juggling competition, basketball hot-shot, flag tag and Aerobe distance throw.  We also had a footrace and water balloon toss.

The boys had never seen an Aerobe before we handed it to them and asked them to compete with this foreign object.  While most didn’t really get the hang of it, the winners were throwing it past midfield on the soccer field.

This is our improvised flag tag game.  They are actually flag football belts, but they worked great for our improvised tag game.  Most contests ended with two boys dancing around each other in a circle going for the last flag on each others belt.Fidel is an actual FIFA referee, as well as a teacher here at our center.  He took his job of running the soccer juggle competition very seriously.  The winner juggled for 1 minute 36.45 seconds.  Exactly.When I was at Saber basketball camp in DeWitt in high school I never thought that the skills and games I was learning there would someday be useful in Africa, but I guess that’s how life works.  They caught on pretty quickly to the game and got very competitive.  I was the only one, however, to knock down the 15-point half-court shot.

The first annual Gatenga Banana Run was a huge success.  After we spent 15 minutes discussing the course, rules and procedures, we got under way.  Many still did not understand the “there and back” concept, and many more got tired and walked, but we had a couple good close finishes.

Put a Frisbee through the tire and win a piece of candy!

This was by far my favorite part of the day.  Again, after much explanation and discussion we got under way.  Having never seen or touched a water balloon makes it very difficult to throw and catch, but hilarious to watch!

THE BEN AND MEDDY ON THE RUN!!!

For all my vigilant, law-abiding friends on the other side of the Atlantic, I am sending you a plea on behalf of all Rwandans.  Deliever The Ben and Meddy back to us!

The solo-artist pop stars, who are the craze and all the rage in Rwanda recently went on a government-sponsored trip to Washington and mysteriously disappeared.  Rumors are circulated the two duo are trying to secure an international record deal and were searching in Boston before escaping to Canada.  Just to be safe, if they are still in the US, I need your help.

If you see either of these two uniform-looking men singing a song sounding something like “A karam ata” or something similar, please notify your local law enforcement agency.  They have likely not changed their appearance, as every Rwandan man has the same hair and dress style.  Furthermore, they can likely be heard saying some Kinyarwanda-English slang words awkwardly in public, such  as “Fresh” (pronounced Fresh-EE), “Power” (pronounced POW-A) and “V.I.P.” (prnounced Vee-Pee).

I have fond memories of both of these men, as I have sang along and danced at many events where they have performed.  I just know Rwanda won’t be the same without them.  Please, help us.

Article from the New Times:

http://newtimes.co.rw/index.php?issue=14341&article=32059

Family Vacation

After a month of spending much time with my family I have finally caught up on my work and have gotten back into the blog scene.

The first order of business is to say THANK YOU!  I was astonished how quickly the Amazon wish list filled up, and couldn’t believe all the stuff that my family brought me when they visited last month.  These things are helpful in so many ways, and we will never know the impact that one basketball, for example, can have on the lives of children, but I promise this diversion from poverty and street life is invaluable.

Please, don’t be humble and let me know what you ordered from the wish list, I would very much like to thank you personally, these small purchases have been very moving for me.

As mentioned, my family was recently visiting Africa.  Chad and I spent two weeks between hiking volcanoes in Rwanda and trying our hand at rafting the Nile River in Uganda.  Turns out both of these were fairly challenging tasks, but I’ll assert that we prevailed.  Between these we also spent quite a bit of time around the center doing a little bit of farm work, traveling to Lake Muhazi with the boys and schooling some kids in basketball (after we put the new nets on the rims Chad decided the court was worthy for his presence).  To speak for him I think he enjoyed his experience and learned quite a bit, including a very important crash course in African English.

My parents then arrived to finally unite the Lincolns after a 9 month separation.  After the jubilation of reuniting with their sons, we got to work exploring Rwanda, visiting a rustic lake house and hiking to a waterfall, a couple genocide memorials, Kigali, and hiking in Rwanda’s rain forest.  We had some problems with bathroom facilities, modes of transportation and an absence of Diet Coke, but I think the Primus beer, brochette snacks and eat-with-your-hands tilapia made it an overall wash.

After doing everything we could in a week in Rwanda we flew into Kenya for an amazing safari.  We visited three parks (Masai Mara, Nakuru, Amboseli) and saw simply amazing wildlife.  I won’t name everything we saw, but some of the highlights include; giraffe, lion, zebra, wildebeest, buffalo, cheetah, white rhino, hyena, flamingo, elephant, gazelle, antelope, topi, various monkeys, baboon, hippo and scores of other birds and animals.  Chad and I didn’t see our goal of a lion taking down a zebra, but we did see a pride of lionesses stalking a lone wildebeest (the wildebeest escaped) and a cheetah eating a wildebeest (although we didn’t see the kill).

Please forgive me for not having better pictures, and in fact incomplete pictures (Rwanda isn’t included) because I was letting my mother and amateur photographer take most of the photos with her flashy new camera (pun intended).  But don’t worry, I know she is already planning occasions to show off these pictures!

 

This is one of the 3000 elephants who reside in Amboseli.  He kindly posed in front of Mt. Kilimanjaro for me for this photo.

A parliament of giraffes in Maasai Mara.  Yes, two or more giraffes is technically a parliament, my new favorite thing about giraffes.

A heard of wildebeest making their annual migration from Tanzania to Kenya.

A pride of lions with three adult females and their 12 cubs, seen here playing in the road.

The African Buffalo.  Yes, he’s just as ugly as he looks in the photo.

 

So I look forward to personally sharing all my photos with my friends and family when I get home!  Which by the way, is getting nearer by the moment and I’m having one of those “oh crap where has the time gone? moments.  I’m leaving Rwanda in less than two months.  Not only are we leaving but the whole community is changing so there is very much a “pack it in” attitude at the center that I’m fighting hard to resist (its harder now that I have a date that our two “replacement” volunteers are coming in August).  But its still easy and satisfying for me to work and to be with the youth of the center – the reason I am here – so I’m soaking up every minute of my time with them!

A link/request from Uncle Tom

Uncle Tom is helping to organize a project to help get stuff to me in Rwanda. Here is a short message from him!

To the many friends and family of Mitch Lincoln:

Chad will soon be traveling to Rwanda to visit Mitch, and if interested, this is an opportunity for you to send Mitch care package items. The cost to send items via mail is very expensive but sending via checked luggage is reasonable, and delivery is more certain. I know many of you would like to support Mitch and this is your chance to do so without shipping costs (I will pay for any luggage charges). Below is a link to an Amazon.com wish list that contains items that Mitch has requested for himself and the center. You are welcomed and encouraged to forward this note to anybody who might be interested. Any item you purchase from the list will automatically be sent to my house. A group on facebook called “Let’s help Mitch’ has also been created. Ideally, items need to be ordered this week to allow for shipping time. Let’s show Mitch how much we care!

Peace and Love

Uncle Tom

The wishlist at Amazon
http://www.amazon.com/wishlist/1BHJC7YPTL74J

Foyer Life

For the genocide memorial week, Rwanda and notably Kigali, are pretty dull.  We took the opportunity to visit the Salesians’ lake house at Lake Muhazi and had an amazing time.  It was a much-needed vacation and I enjoyed much sleep, reading, eating and daily swimming.

We spent one day challenging nature (taking a break from the daily bags tournament) and had to both swim across the lake and also climb the giant hill by the house.  This is the view from the peak!

When we returned home vacation was immediately over, with school beginning and the student returning to live at the center.  Our director, Father Frans, suggested that we all take a stint living with the boys in the Foyer to see how life is there.  (You must pronounce foyer with a French accent to get the full effect, “foy-ay”).  I started in the room with the younger boys, aged around 10-15, and Chris started with the older guys, 15 and up.  The kids have a busy schedule, waking up at 5:30 and a day full of studying, school, study halls, manual work, sports and prayer.  By the time the lights are off at 9:45 I’m normally asleep before they are, and haven’t done half of what they have!

Being in the foyer has been a great experience so far (I have since moved upstairs with the older guys).  The kids love seeing us around and are often surprised to learn that we wanted to come live with them.  They can’t really understand why we would give up our comfortable living conditions and good meals to come live in a crammed room with 60 other people and eat the same thing for every meal.  But this type of experience, hanging out and trying to be a good friend/role model/guy to the boys is exactly why I came here, and I’m enjoying it greatly!

A table of the little guys at dinner.

Jean Bosco chowing down.  Most of the little kids eat more than I can at dinner, yet all of them are super skinny.

 

“Kahunga na Ibishimbo” (Corn meal and beans) is the staple at Gatenga.  Its not bad, but eating it for every meal gets a little old.  On Sunday and Wednesday nights they boys get rice instead of kahunga (a great improvement) and Friday night is the real treat with the “Matoke” (bland banana) substitution.  It is best eaten with the fingers, but sometimes I do slip a spoon in my pocket.

The boys, especially the smaller ones, crave male attention, and, as all young boys, prefer this attention in the form of fighting, laughing, throwing and spinning.

In the Salesian tradition, every night before bed the boys get an evening talk, or a “goodnight.”  I have been put into the rotation and give the goodnight every couple weeks.  Last week I let the boys style my hair (they are fascinated by it) and incorporated a moral lesson.  Octavian on my right is translating my English and attempted French into Kinrywanda.

I Have Seen the Bodies

Last week was Genocide Memorial Week in Rwanda, commemorating the nearly one million people killed here in 1994.  Normally when I think about the genocide it is in terms of how it affects life here today, like how a child with no parents has a poor chance at going to school, or how the government uses the genocide for political means.  Genocide is part of history, and a fact of life that one can become callous to, if not careful.  Occasionally, however, I am reminded of the personal tragedy of genocide,  meeting a boy who has seen his parents killed, or talking with a friend who has literally, no family.  Another such instance is when I visit a genocide memorial.  There is a particularly strong memorial outside Kigali where thousands were killed in a church.  They have the bones on display and the clothing of all the victims is hung from the rafters, giving genocide a very personal touch.   Another such memorial is in Murambi, in the southern part of Rwanda.  I visited this memorial in February and have decided to share my journal entry for that day.  I’ve debated whether or not to do this, but I feel I can share some of my most private thoughts and emotions for the sake of demonstrating the horrors of genocide.  Be warned, this post was written in a time of strong emotion and contains some vulgar subject matter and some of my most pessimistic thoughts.  It is titled:

“I Have Seen the Bodies”

February 21, 2010

The only thing I want to write is the phrase that keeps running through my head “we’re all fucked up, we’re all fucked up…”   Today I visited the Murambi Memorial Site.  This is where the French Army set up a base in 1994 and where 50,000 Rwandans fled to for protection.  Then the French Army left, leaving sitting targets of 50,000 people to die.

FIFTY THOUSAND PEOPLE

The particularly unique part of this memorial is that they have calcified some of the bodies to preserve them.  Today I actually saw the bodies.

I have read stories, talked with survivors, seen the graves and even bones on display… but the bodies.  This was new.  Seeing small children’s bodies, I could see the small children who I greet on the walk to school every morning.  I could also identify the elderly women I sit behind in church every Sunday.  Literally putting faces on the victims, as expected, evoked strong emotions: sadness, pity, guilt… Mostly though, I am angry.  Angry at the individual who could kill an infant, angry at the French and the rest of the world who bailed out, angry at a social-political system that could allow this situation to develop, angry at humanity.  What kind of fucking animals are we?

I like to believe that human beings are good, but today may have totally fucked my view on humanity.  I got queasy killing a cow last week and they have the stomach (and the balls) to kill 50,000 people?  I understand killing in a moment of rage, killing an individual who has wronged you or killing in defense.  But killing a race?    Killing for days?  What’s it like to take a lunch break from killing people with machetes?  Killing babies?  Killing elderly women?

I’m absolutely mortified that a member of my own race, someone with a similar DNA pattern to mine, can hack off the head of a small child that they have never seen before.  Does this ability exist in the darkest depths of my own self and every human?

Politics, sociology or psychology aside, I’m afraid for humanity.

We’re all fucked up.

Do you know somebody who knows somebody?

Sometime I think I will have to leave Rwanda. I think, furthermore, that that time will be before 2011. That being said, Father Frans (the director of the center) is getting nervous that he won't have a volunteer working on the farm after I leave.

Granted, I'm not a farmer, but being from Iowa I understand the basics and know how to drive a tractor, which qualifies me. So... are you, or do you know any good Iowa (or not) farmer (or not) boys who might be interested in coming to Africa for a year?

Experience is not really needed (me) but it could help. A desire to work hard, take initiative, interact with kids and explore a new culture are needed. Any age would also work. Chris is the youngest volunteer and Mark is the oldest volunteer at 63. In fact, we often talk how interesting it would be to have a retired Iowa farmer come here and volunteer for a while.

The program I volunteer with, the Salesian Lay Missioners, is a great program and I would encourage anyone to investigate because it covers many logistics and finances that can otherwise be prohibitive to volunteering. (If you're interested in this route, there is a discernment weekend in Chicago at the end of April for my midwest homies. More on the East coast in June) If you don't want to use this program and just show up, that's ok too!

Please please please, if you are even remotely interested, or know someone who might be contact me. I'm having the most amazing experience of my life and you should think about it.

You can email me at mitchelljlincoln@gmail.com

(I'm tagging random people in the Facebook version of this so the word spreads faster!)

The Joke That Wasn't That Funny

I attempted to have fun and play an April Fools joke on my blog this week. A combination of bad humor and a technical inability to tell people that it was a joke made the attempt not really funny at all. I know many people love me and care about me and were concerned. I'm very sorry if I caused you to worry or stress on my behalf. Yeah, that was just kind of dumb, I'm sorry.

April Fools!

So I'm not getting kicked out of Rwanda. However, I didn't make this story up either. In Rwanda people (especially loud NGO workers or government officials who don't follow the official party line) are regularly asked to leave or flee on their own for political reasons. There is an especially messy law about "Genocide Ideology" which enables the government to detain any person it suspects of having any genocidal thinking. This law is broadly and conveniently interpreted. I'm going to stop now, before I really do get into trouble (internet monitoring is real also) and wish everyone a happy Easter.

Sorry Mom.

Some troubles

I have been away from my blog for a while because it has been causing me a little bit of trouble. In my last post I wrote the phrase "benevolent dictator" which apparently doesn't go over well with the Rwandan government and raised a very big red flag with their internet scouring technology. I've had a few chats with the immigration office and recently they informed me that as of this week they are revoking my visa. I'm fighting with everything I have and the Salesian Provincial of Rwanda is even getting involved, however, I face potential arrest if I am not gone by Saturday, when my visa "expires."

For the time being I will be visiting the Salesian community in Kampala, Uganda. I'm pretty sure this may be an attempt to get something from me or the Salesians on the side of the Rwandan government, so there is hope of my return, but nothing is certain.

When I arrive in Kampala I will post more information, but as long as I am in Rwanda I must be careful how I use the internet. Happy Good Friday I guess.

Today I changed my toothbrush…

While this may seem like an unremarkable event in practicality, it symbolizes that I am halfway through my year’s supply of toothbrushes (two).  Yes, March 3 is exactly six months since I started this crazy journey by missing a plane in Moline.  While I like to think I’m the same person, I hope that I have maybe learned something, acquired some new skills, made an impact on somebody’s life or, if nothing else, have gotten a decent tan.  So I thought I’d take this moment to share some reflections… with the entire internet.  Enjoy.

The first thing is that I have learned is to live as a minority.  The strange looks in the street, the “muzungu” call from children and adults alike and having people talk about me without understanding have all taken getting used to.  I have always hated racism, and I don’t think this has changed my feelings, but definitely given me a new perspective.   However, its different.  “Minorities” in the US tend to be seen as poorer “lesser” people by racists.  Here, however, I am simply seen as the rich outsider, almost “better” than people here, if I can say that without invoking too much implication.  I would also challenge any person who thinks the United States should adopt an English-only law to live in a place where he doesn’t know the language.  It can be the most desperate, lonely feeling one can feel while surrounded by people.

Speaking of language, I have realized how bad we Americans are at learning them.  Most Africans and every European I have met here speaks at least two if not four languages.  I understand the practicality of it for them, and lack of necessity of it for us, but it can make a guy feel kind of dumb at times.

There is no baseball in Rwanda and this makes me sad.  On that train of thought, I really missed Hawkeye football and tailgating this fall, and could kill for a Busch Light in a snowy parking lot right now.

I’ve written this before, and I’ll write it again.  The privilege I have had in my life simply because of where I was born stares me in the face every day.  Thinking of the disparities of food, health, education, peace and lifestyles has drastically altered my view on life.

African culture suits me fairly well.  Schedules are “suggestions,” it is rude to discuss anything with a person unless proceeded by a short conversation about how they are doing, how their day has been, etc.  Every day is a concern about immediate needs, so a person doesn’t plan for tomorrow, rather, one lives for today, in the present, an attitude I am trying to live by.

These same things drive me insane, however.  I am frustrated by missed appointments and sometimes just want something, not a life story of formalities.  I read a book which sums up the African mindset very well, as people relying on “micro-solutions rather than macro-systems.”  This means that instead of waiting in line, which is a great Western macro-system, people rush a bus door to find a micro-solution to their problem of getting on the bus.  The examples of this are endless, but as much as I like to claim myself as a relaxed guy, I am learning that I really like my order and “macro-systems.”

There is something about the innocence of little children and their unconditional love that I had to travel halfway across the world to fully appreciate.  I hope this travels back with me.

I’m really starting to question the merits of development aid.  But this is a topic for a later discussion.

There is definitely some farming left in my blood.  While I am almost a generation removed from full time Iowa farmer, I can really appreciate the hard work and sense of satisfaction this profession provides.  Its a simple life, working the land, praying for weather and harvesting the crops, but inside me somewhere something in my blood has been awaken.

I feel very liberated by not earning a paycheck.  My basic needs are taken care of, I work out of desire to work, not a need to please a boss or to grind it out for payday.  While money makes life more comfortable, not having an abundance has its perks as well.

Genocide is a terrible, awful thing.  I’m still trying to think about how to best put into words my experiences, thoughts and reflections on this topic, but I’m not sure if they will ever materialize.

I live in a country with what some might call a “benevolent dictator.”  My Western mind didn’t like this at first, but I’m beginning to feel that maybe in some instances peace is a fair tradeoff for true democracy.

I have argued in many papers, presentations and debates that the developed world’s impact on the climate hurts the developing world the most.  Maybe its coincidence, but in the last few years (including this one) Rwanda’s centuries old seasonal rotation has been drastically changing.  Its good to know that at least some of my ideals are being reinforced.

Thanksgiving and Christmas are best spent in the Midwest with family.

I’m pretty sure I know where AIDS came from.  But I heard some different opinions on the radio a few months back (it was created as a weapon by the US to limit population control, for example).  This made me realize how much my perspective of being an American really affects the way I perceive information.  Its good to take a step back and look from a different view (just ask my European friends about US Foreign Policy!)

I am the de facto soccer and basketball referee.  Its good to know that wherever I officiate in the world, people still like to argue with the ref.  Or maybe I’m just a bad ref.

Its fairly likely that I will spend a majority of the rest of my life shaving and wearing a tie every day.  I’m OK with this, but I’m also very happy never doing either!

Picasa Pictures Online Now!

If you did not receive an email from me and you would like to have the URL to see my Picasa web albums, PLEASE EMAIL ME! Facebook and blogger is not a very good format for posting pictures or even sending messages because of slow internet, so I really want your email addresses!

I have 6 albums and probably over 200 pictures for those interested.

My address: mitchelljlincoln@gmail.com

A Time of Change

Things are changing in Gatenga.  As with all changes, some bring happiness, others sadness and some just go by without evoking any particular emotion.

The biggest noticeable change has been the season.  The rainy season is over and we have entered the short dry season, which means it is dry and extremely hot.  However, it is not supposed to be the dry season yet, so maybe this will end soon.  Regardless, the change in weather signals that it is time to harvest the corn crop.  This job is particularly satisfying for me, as I put in many hours and days of hard work to plant it.  The simple pleasure of planting a crop and then harvesting it is something I am really learning to enjoy.  The blood of my farming ancestors is strong in my veins!

As I have alluded to (and complained about) in countless blog posts, emails and Skype chats, the students have finally come back to Gatenga!  Classes were supposed to start on Tuesday, they haven’t really gotten around to that yet, but the students are still here!  Their presence changes the attitude of the center and overall makes me a happier person.  They have begun to work with me in the field, I eat lunch with them, pray with them and next week will begin coaching basketball again!

This change in Rwanda’s academic schedule has many other impacts on my life.  For example, starting tomorrow, I am hiring a tutor to teach me Frenh and Kinyrwanda.  Tres Bon!  Also, there was a small group of six students who worked at the center over   the holiday because the community pays for them to continue their education.  I became very close to these students, and I am so happy they have the means to continue their studies, but it is sad to see them go.

Most difficult for me, however, is the departure of my best friend, Minani.  Minani was the man who I did most work with on the farm, the one who showed me around on the first day and the one I always went to with questions.  On top of this, we would often go out for a drink after work, or attend various events together in Kigali.  He is my best friend here.  A couple weeks ago he asked my advice on taking a new job.  We had a long discussion about his hopes, dream and his future.  When I found out the new employer had offered to pay for him to go to university I was elated and heartbroken at the same time.  I know I will see him in the future and I’m extremely excited about his opportunity for education in a country where it is difficult, but I will miss seeing him every day.

I think because the school year is approaching and the work that comes with it, the community collectively decided to relax the weekend before.  Saturday night, at the suggestion of the American volunteers, we had a cookout and ate homemade sausages and hamburgers with freshly picked corn on the cob under the stars.  We also had a short volunteer conference for all the Salesian volunteers in the province which culminated in a day long trip to Lake Muhazi on Sunday, to relax, eat, drink and swim.  And on Monday one of the priests took us to Akagera National Park.  Akagera is the tree-savannah, animal-packed park that you think of when thinking about Africa.  While we did not see the park’s giraffes, elephants or leopards, we saw antelope, zebra, bushbuck, impalas, monkeys, baboons, warthogs, crocodiles, hippos and countless bird species.

Also, for those of you who can’t get enough by just words alone, this weekend I expect to have my Picasa page up and running.  Please retain your excitement.

Nairobi

Recently I was fortunate enough to be selected to represent my province at the Salesian Conference for Volunteers in Africa.  The conference was three days and focused on the specifics of Salesian thinking in our work, human rights and justice and evangelization.  I came away from the conference with a renewed and better understanding of why exactly I am in African volunteering, and how to view my work through a Salesian lens.

The conference itself, while refreshing and reinvigorating to participate, wouldn’t be very interesting to write or read about, so I won’t.  I will highlight two of the things we did outside the conference hall, however.

1) Visit to the Kibera Slum

After talking about justice and human rights all morning, our group went to visit a Salesian working in the slums of Nairobi.  The Kibera slum is just outside Nairobi, ironically across the street and behind a brick wall from one of the most affluent neighborhoods in the city.  It is roughly measured by the length of the 6 km road that runs through the middle, and its population is estimated at around 1 million.   Running water and electricity are scarce, sewage runs uncovered in the streets and government services are virtually nonexistent.  

About the time I was completely overcome with heartache, anger, frustration and desperation, we met the Salesian who was located in the middle of the slum.  He was a native of the slum and after completing his studies returned to the slum to set up a school and a social project.  His school provides education for over 200 students and his social project consists of a nurse and a paralegal.  The nurse preaches hygiene to anyone who will listen and caters to girls and women’s health issues.  The paralegal works  to organize a micro-finance project to empower local residents and they both work together to, and this is repulsive, bring justice to rape victims, especially children (some as young as three years old) who do not have the means to attain justice.

2) Bosco Boys – Nairobi

On our final evening in Nairobi we visited one of the many Salesian communities in Nairobi, Bosco Boys.  This is a  community that works with others to get children off the street and out of slums like Kibera.  The students at this particular site were in the final stage.  It was great to see the positive change the Salesians were having on the children, as I sat and talked with all  of them as we watched dancers and performers put on a show for their special visitors.  The coolest part of this experience, however, was mass at the Bosco Boys chapel.  There were only young people in the church, including the choir and 15 dancers that danced at every part of the mass.  I have never felt so much energy or enthusiasm in a church before!

Four months already?

This week I celebrated my four-month anniversary of living in Rwanda.  To mark the occasion I visited the office of Immigration to finally get my visa.  Needless to say, they were not happy that I had waited so long and I got to pay a pretty substantial fine because of it.  There is a long story about me visiting and them not accepting documents, but I won’t bore you with that.  To make it short, I spent my four-month anniversary very angry at Rwanda.

But there has been much good also.  I see that I have not really made a good post since Thanksgiving, so there is quite a bit to update.  To answer all your questions, yes, we did kill the turkey I am pointing at in the Thanksgiving picture, I prepared an entire Thanksgiving feast, and the whole international community I live with loved the American holiday that none of them had ever celebrated.  Chris was out of town for the week so I was the only American to celebrate this American feast, but they loved it and it in turn, made me very happy.

As far as my work is going, well honestly, I’ve been slightly bored.  The school year ended in late October, and since then things have been pretty quiet.  While I am not teaching, the whole pulse of the center beats on the school, and without students, a school is pretty boring.  I am still working, but with not many students to spend time with and many of the farm staff also on vacation, it has been challenging.

Graduation itself was a very bitter-sweet day for me, as all graduations are.  The students that I had grown close to over the past months were now leaving, some of them probably forever.  It was nice to see them, nice to know they remembered me, wanted pictures with me and cared enough to take time from their graduation day to talk to me.  This day was affirming for me, as it reinforced my hopes that I was truly making meaningful relationships with the students here.  We even got invited to a couple graduation parties, unfortunately we could only go to one, which may have been the longest, most boring event of my life!  But regardless, it was a good cultural experience, and the fact that I got invited was a very special gesture.

Because there is no school we had a summer-camp like program called “patronage.”  This is where young children aged about 3-15 came to the center every morning for our program, which included singing, games, dancing, mass and group outings.  I taught a group of kids the words and accompanying hand motions to the song “Yes Lord” in five different languages, so now every time I go outside our center there are hundreds of kids who recognize me and scream “Yes Lord” while giving either a thumbs up or making an “L” with their fingers to accompany they lyrics.

After patronage ended was when life began to get really boring, but luckily Adam, our director from New York, came to visit, breaking up the lull of school vacation.  As soon as Adam left we  were off to Jinja, Uganda to visit some friends who are volunteers with Holy Cross that we met at our training last summer in New York.  Christmas is not yet very popular in Rwanda, so I wanted to go somewhere with some American spirit so we could celebrate Christmas as best we could without snow!

Jinja was great.  Terry, Derrick, Whitney and Joella are all teachers and also bored on break.  But we turned down time from boredom to relaxation, as they live in a house with a front porch, a kitchen and a living room decorated in appropriate Christmas spirit.  We spent the week reading, talking, sleeping and cooking, culminating in a giant Christmas Eve feast followed with a personal (nearly) midnight mass in the living room.  We followed mass with Tom and Jerry’s and readings from the gospels of the Christmas story.  It was almost like home.

We also had some fun in Jinja.  As soon as we got there and had our first Nile Special beer we knew we would visit the brewery which is very near.  It wasn’t quite Anheiser Busch, but it was still a good tour with our new friend, and tour guide, Herbert.

We also decided to bite the bullet and pay for the expensive, touristy rafting trip on the Nile -- it was the Christmas season and all.  This is something I will never regret spending money on, as it was one of the coolest things I’ve done here.  The trip was 30 Kilometers of rafting with multiple series of Class IV and Class V rapids.  I got thrown out of our raft three times, one of them was when the raft flipped completely over.  I only feared for my life once, but luckily my giant life jacket pulled me up from the rapids I had been frantically trapped under for a better part of 20 seconds.

We returned to Kigali with Derrick, who was having his own visa problems in Uganda and had to temporarily leave the country.  Even though Hannah is now gone, our house is getting full.  There are two young men from Belgium who are experienced in agriculture and have come to work on the farm.  We also have a young Belgian woman who was adopted from Rwanda at a yo9ung age and has returned to meet her family (a successful reunion!) and our favorite “community mother,” Rita, who takes care of all of us.  This collage of Belgians has everyone speaking Flemish and has gotten me anxious to start researching my own family Flemish roots (one of the Belgians has the name Hooge in his family, which is similar to some of my origins).  It has also been nice to have a couple extra hands on the farm, especially guys who have studied and worked in agriculture!

To round off the holiday-season post… on New Years Day we went to an East African Community Party held at the National Stadium in Rwanda, featuring some of the top artists from across East Africa.  It was a great time and somehow, even though we purchased regular tickets, we found ourselves in the VIP section standing right in front of the stage!

As I’m reviewing this post it looks like I’ve just been partying all the time, so let me redeem myself by telling you that I still work.  In fact, I have begun to cultivate a new plot of land with the intention of planting a special kind of beet that will be able to sustain the cattle during the dry season when their main source of food, grasses, becomes scarce.  I am also overseeing a construction project for a new shop on the perimeter of our property.  Here I will manage the supply and selling of agricultural products, hoping to earn the center a little extra money.  I am also going to begin helping to teach some of our teachers English.  They will all have to attempt to teach in English this academic year, and for some of them it will be challenging.  I recently helped butcher a hog.  It was interesting, although any hope I ever had of trying blood sausage was dashed after I helped to make it.  I have also become the go to man for soccer refereeing.  Am I qualified to referee soccer?  If you consider playing and refereeing park and rec soccer in DeWitt qualified than yes, but I do not.  Regardless, I’ve taken the role pretty seriously and am even starting to enjoy it.  Its nowhere near the feeling of calling balls and strikes, but its filling some kind of void there.  Last week I had a match where a team from the Congo came to play our team in Rwanda.  I gave two yellow cards, which is something I think baseball needs to adopt.

Oh, and I’m still digging.