The uzufunguzo to Life in Rugabano

Jacqueline looked at me skeptically as I shook the pan over the charcoal fire. It was nearing dark and the sun was slowly setting behind the hills. The air was cool and the soft chat of Viate (the guy who gets our water and charcoal) and his friend was the only sound other than the sizzling oil in the pan. “I can do this…” I told her, trying my best to sound confident. We were making chipati, which is a type of bread that has the consistency of both pancake and pita. The trick is that once you harden up one side you must flip the chipati with a flick of the wrist, turning it onto the opposite side to finish cooking. This was something I’ve done before with luck on my side and I was determined, much to Jacquie’s dismay, to become a chipati flipping champion. She shook her head at my stubbornness (a dismantled chipati already sat sadly on a plate) and watched as I prepared to flip. One… Two… Three… I flipped and caught the chipati in the pan and was greeted with small cheers of support. For the past few weeks Jacqueline (the animatrice who is in charge of the male and female dorms), Jacques (the secretary) and I have been getting habituated in Rugabano. We have cleaned up the school and the house, making our little mark before 500 teens show up on our hills. Earlier in the week, Viate, Jacqueline and I planted a garden in our front yard. We had flowers and various plants that were cleverly removed from the schools abundant supply and re-transplanted into our little yard. We also checked out our village’s local “movie theater”. This is a small room that has a T.V. that is powered by a generator and crammed with wooden benches. You pay 100 Rwandan Francs to get in (about 15 cents) and can watch a film or a soccer match, depending on what’s advertised on the chalkboard in from of the shop. Jacquie continued to test me on new words in Kinyarwanda, building up my vocabulary. “Uzufunguzo..” She would announce, holding up a key. We visited our local market, open on Mondays and Fridays, and visited some friends around town. We have made lunches and dinners of potatoes and beans, plantains and beans, rice and beans, and the occasional ubugali (a cassava paste that is the consistency of playdough) and meat sauce. Ubugali is one of my favorites mainly because you eat it with your hands – Mauritania memories! – and though feels like playdough, tastes pretty delicious. Sometimes we like to treat ourselves and have Fantas or Cokes in the small local bar with a few plastic tables and chairs. One day Jacquie and I made plans to go into town for some well deserved Fantas. I locked my room with a padlock and stuck the key in my pocket, waiting for Jacquie to finish. She came out locked her padlock, sighed, and sat down in front of the door with her hand on her cheek. “Ufite ikibazo?” I asked, wondering what the problem was. “Yego..” she said shaking her head, “Uzufunguzo mu chumba chanjye…” She had locked her key in her room. We sat for a second in stunned silence at the situation and suddenly both burst out laughing – mostly because just that morning she had taught me about the word Uzufunguzo and now it was locked in her room. After a few calls and a couple Fantas we get someone to pry off the lock and open the door.
Now our students are beginning to show up to the school to collect their grades from last school year. Their curious faces peer out of the director’s office at me confirming the rumors that a foreigner would be teaching at their school this year. Looking at the results from last school year and talking with some of the teachers I realize what a job is cut out for us. Kagame’s education reform making English the language of instruction is going to hit some rough waters. My village is based on agriculture so the majority of students don’t aspire to get out into the world or even to the busy cities of Rwanda. Grown in soil and raised in the sun they have always been taught in Kinyarwanda – the previous francophone identity of their country not having much weight on the language teachers chose to teach at Rugabano (mainly Kinyarwanda). You can confirm this by looking at the subjects passed and failed from the previous year. French was at the low end, followed by chemistry and at the high end… yeah you guessed it… Agriculture. So it will be interesting to see how the new law wraps itself around my school. English only when some teachers can’t hold a basic conversation? Not likely. But as they say here Buhoro buhoro; Slow by slow we will make the changes. Here’s to a great start to 2010 school year in Rwanda and the beginning of another decade of adventures.