Emma Rwanda

Joseph's Update

2010-09-29T05:18:00.000-07:00

Joseph, my student with the bone infection, recently had minor surgery to remove a fragment of bone from his femur, allowing the antibiotics to better penetrate into the infected area. The actual surgery was performed with a hammer...while Joseph was awake. Joseph was given the bloody, infected bone fragment to keep as a souvenir.

Joseph with a fresh bandage

Joseph being attended to by a fellow student, Xavio, who is acting as his nurse. Joseph's friends take turns caring for him during his hospital stay since an actual nurse only stops in about three times per day to give Joseph antibiotic injections and occasionally change his bandages. At night, Xavio sleeps on the floor by Joseph's bed.

House of Horrors Hospital

2010-09-27T16:17:00.000-07:00

For about three months, I've been trying to find adequate treatment for a student's severe case of osteomyelitis. In fact, my last posting was about my student, Joseph.

It has so far been a frustrating endeavor trying to find proper treatment for Joseph. Doctors often don't have the materials or expertise to treat difficult illnesses and even with an appointment, patients often wait hours to be seen by a medical professional.

After all of this time, Joseph's femur is still riddled with infection, pus is still leaking from a bone-deep wound in his leg, and the future of Joseph's life and leg is still uncertain. In x-rays of Joseph's femur, one can see a small bone spur or bone fragment. Today, doctors used a hammer to remove this fragment from Joseph's leg while he remained fully conscious.

Death and disease are common and accepted facts of life in Rwanda. I once witnessed a man dying under the wheels of another bus while on my way to visit the capital city. There was no flurry of activity, no people fluttering about trying to offer assistance or even expressing grief over the loss of a human life. Instead, a small crowd gathered around and watched, expressionless, as the stricken man's death convulsions ebbed into motionlessness. My bus driver stopped our vehicle briefly to converse with the driver of the bus that had hit the victim. I imagine that he was thinking of the other bus driver when he slowly shook his head and chuckled as we drove on. It was as if he was thinking, "Man, you really effed up!" For me, the experience of witnessing that death sheds light on the doctors' attitudes toward Joseph's illness.

In my mind, the doctors seem too ready to acquiesce defeat in this medical matter. They seem resigned to letting the infection run its course, even if that means that my student loses his leg. Tonight, Joseph is lying in a crowded hospital ward with a fellow student acting as attendant since there are no nurses to care for Joseph. In his backpack is the bone fragment that the doctor needed a hammer to remove. It is still covered in blood and bacteria and wrapped in a paper towel.

I'm sitting at my computer trying to figure out how to help a young man who has impressed me with his intelligence, sweetness, and humor, even during difficult times. I'm preparing for the worst, but hoping for the best. As my students like to say, "This is Africa."

Meet Joseph

2010-09-07T11:48:00.000-07:00

This is Joseph Uwimana. He is one of my brightest 11th grade biology students and is always first in his class when he is well enough to study. Those of you who are friends with me on facebook already know that Joseph is suffering from osteomyelitis, a severe bone infection.

Joseph's left femur has been nearly eaten away by a chronic infection that has gone untreated for far too long. His femur appears hollow on X-ray images. Standard treatment for this type of infection is surgical removal of the dead bone tissue. However, there is not enough healthy tissue remaining to allow for surgery. If the infection is not successfully treated, Joseph may lose his leg, or worse. Thanks to a few anonymous donors, I was able to buy some hardcore antibiotics to begin treating the infection. However, it's going to be a long and expensive road to recovery.

Joseph is now on a regimen of heavy antibiotics. We are hoping that once the infection is ameliorated, he will begin to regrow enough bone tissue to permit surgery to remove the rest of the infected tissue. We are optimistic of a full recovery!

A Short Rwandan History by Gentil Kalisa

2010-09-06T11:11:00.000-07:00

In response to a comment on my students' blog for more info on Rwandan history, Gentil Kalisa wrote the essay found below.

Next year, Gentil and another 12th grade student of mine will be applying to the University of Tennessee-Chatanooga Honors program. The admissions faculty encouraged my supervisor to have Gentil apply after reading his essay, I Do Remember Him, which can be found on an earlier blog post. International students who are accepted to the UTC UHON program are given full tuition, room, and board for 4 years--truly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for these two students!!! However, federal law requires that international students have bank accounts with a sizable amount of cash on hand in case of emergency. African Learning Foundation is working on setting up trusts to enable these students to meet the federal requirement, while requiring ALF's permission to actually withdraw the funds.

Anyway, enough of the details. Here is the essay.

I’m Glad I Am!

Each country, each nation, and every people have their own history. You can have many nationalities, but it is impossible to have two natal countries. I am Rwandan but I have discovered that there is a part of my country’s history that no one is able to describe, that is impossible to be portrayed by Rwandans, and even those who know it don’t want to talk about it. I have been hearing and reading histories from other countries, but I have found that the history of my country is neither a good one, nor a simple one. I can easily understand those who don’t want to talk about it, because even I don’t like to speak of the events that occurred in April of 1994. This is because even now no one understands how the Rwandan genocide took place.

Sometimes I feel obliged to lie about my nationality, especially to white people, because they want me to explain to them what I don’t like to talk about. “Were you in Rwanda in April 1994?” This question is the one most asked by strangers, and if your answer is “Yes,” there will be a good set of endless questions.

Before the coming of colonizers, the issue of being Umutwa, Umuhutu or Umututsi, was not a problem. Someone was qualified rich or poor according to how many cows he owned. I could be called Umututsi because I had many cows, Umuhutu because I owned few cows and Umutwa because I had no cow. When colonizers came, they associated themselves with Tutsi because they were well-considered in Rwandan society. While living with Tutsi, colonizers transmitted their new innovations and creations so the clan of Tutsi became stronger and stronger.

When colonizers arrived in Rwanda, they found it very different from what they thought it would be. They wanted to dominate over Rwandans, but this was not possible as long as my people were well organized. The colonizers had no choice but to “Divide and Rule.” The ideology they devised was to show Rwandans that there were many points to consider regarding our innate differences, such as the length of our noses and how short or tall we are. Those strangers lied to my people and the cord that bound us together was broken. That was the beginning of hostilities through every Rwandan’s heart. That was when their dark ways began. Tutsi were killed by Hutu in 1969, 1973 and finally during the genocide of 1994, which took around one million of Tutsi in only one hundred days.

Even though a large number of my people were killed, something makes me proud in this story: The 1994 Rwandan genocide was committed against Rwandans, by Rwandans, but it was also stopped by Rwandans. A group of Rwandan refugees in neighboring countries organized themselves and decided to stop the killing. In 1990, the RDF Inkotanyi, with their leader Major General Fred Gisa Rwigema, started the long way with peaceful negotiations. A peaceful solution was not possible so they felt obliged to start a war that they were not sure to finish. After a short time, Gisa passed away and Paul Kagame, another Rwandan refugee from a United States university, became the leader of RDF Inkotanyi. The war of liberation was fought mainly by young people known in Swahili as Kadogos. The war lasted about four years. When the RDF started the war, there were Tutsi killed in some regions of the country, but the largest number of Tutsi were killed in April, May and June of 1994, after the death of the President of the Republic, Major General Juvenal Habyarimana, who died in an airplane crash on April 7th.

According to many reports by Romeo Dalaire, a chief in command of French soldiers from the UN, there were few to stop the genocide. Even Paris could have helped the Tutsi with no huge effort because they were good friends with Kigali. The friendship was maintained, which is why French soldiers became teachers of Interahamwe, a group of Hutu militants with only one mission “Exterminate all Tutsi.” French soldiers trained the Interahamwe how to cut off Tutsi heads, or snacks, as they used to say. Even now, each year around April there are endless debates between Paris and Kigali, regarding the part that the French played in perpetuating the genocide.

This story might be shorter than the history of your country, but it is much harder to understand. You may even have your own true comments about this genocide, but all I will always be sure of is that the true story lies inside Rwandans hearts, minds, and hands, but not on their lips. After all, the past made me who I am now and only what I am doing now can make me different in the future. A few years ago, I was ashamed to be called Rwandan, but now my nationality is a source of pride. This is due to the long distance we have traveled in the past sixteen years. No matter how tall or short I am, despite the shape of my nose, I feel free like the wind. I feel satisfied and proud of the achievements of my country, hoping for a better tomorrow. I feel proud of what I am.

Gentil Kalisa
Ecole des Sciences de Musanze
Senior 6-PCM

New Shipping Address

2010-09-06T04:48:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

I want to put the word out that book donations should now be shipped directly to the school's post office box in Ruhengeri, rather than the WorldTeach post office box in Kigali. Shipping times will take a few weeks longer (~9 weeks instead of 6 weeks). However, after the end of October (and the end of the teaching term), the WorldTeach post office box will be no more. I will update soon with a shout-out to all of the amazing individuals and organizations who have helped me enrich the lives of my students with medical care, books, and other supplies.

FYI, I will be living and working in Rwanda until the end of 2011 and will continue working with schools in Rwanda and the Ministry of Education through 2011 and beyond.

Meanwhile, the new shipping address is:

Emma Eck
c/o Ecole des Sciences de Musanze
P.O. Box 92
Ruhengeri , Rwanda

<3,

Emma

A Rwandan Teachers' Meeting

2010-08-19T08:29:00.000-07:00

Last week my school held a 9-hour teachers' meeting and methodology workshop. You may ask, "What does a 9-hour teachers' meeting and methodology workshop entail?" Well, I'll tell you:

Teachers,

Presentations,

Tea Break,

Shenanigans,

Inappropriate Comments: "Emma, you have grown FAT!"

An Earnest Question: "How so? Fat in the face?...

....Or fat in the body?"

Lunch in the Refectory,

Babies,

Beer,

And Blessings!

I DO REMEMBER HIM

2010-08-15T20:26:00.000-07:00

In four hours begins the first day of my last term teaching at Ecole des Sciences de Musanze. I'm so nervously excited that I can't sleep. I also feel very strongly that I'm not ready to let my little birdies fly (and by little birdies, I mean students in their late teens/early twenties). I find myself fretting over the futures of these young men and women whom I didn't even know a mere 8 months ago.

Since I've arrived in Rwanda, I've learned a few lessons about patience, resourcefulness, hope, and helplessness. No matter how many classes I teach, no matter how many school materials I buy or collect, and no matter how many students I take to the hospital or buy medicine for, I still see the endless gulf between my happy vision for these students' futures and the probable reality of their lives. For my standout students, I've devoted extra effort toward ensuring that they're equipped for the next level of their educations. My new non-profit, African Learning Foundation (ALF), is one of the results of those efforts.

One of the goals of the African Learning Foundation is to maintain a scholarship fund for my brightest students as well as promising students from other schools. An essay written by one of my star PCM (Physics, Chemistry, Math) students was recently referenced in a a newspaper article about my school. Since he originally agreed to allow the distribution of this very personal essay because I told him it could help him obtain a scholarship to a US university, I would like to post it here and give my readers the chance to donate toward a scholarship for this student. I know that, if given the opportunity for a quality education, this bright, dynamic, and thoughtful young man will go far and be a true asset to his country.

ALF is a new non-profit and will not attain 501(c)3 status for at least 6 months; therefore donations are not tax-deductible. Donations through my sponsoring organization, WorldTeach, are tax-deductible and can be applied toward this fund until the end of the Rwandan school-year in October. For more information about ALF and how you can contribute to our scholarship fund or library project, please contact me at africanlearningfoundation@yahoo.com or through my personal email at emmalceck@yahoo.com.

Gentil's essay is written below:

I DO REMEMBER HIM

The year 1994 occurs in many history books because it is the year in which Rwandan genocide took place. Those books can help strangers to know what Rwanda have been passing through April of that strange year. For Rwandans, it is not the case only because that history is engraved on the principal capacity of their memories.

During that sad period, old, adult, children and even babies have been facing things over their imaginations—husband killing wife, grandfather killing grandsons and granddaughters, dogs hunting people as rabbits. It was not a habit to see corpses, especially children, but in April it became an obligation. Rwandans are no longer afraid of corpses because even now they still burying their people’s bodies from toilets to memorial sites found almost everywhere around the country. For strangers, the Rwandan genocide is over, but for Rwandans, it’s not yet over because their wounds are not yet healed.

I am Rwandan because my parents are Rwandan, but during that dark year, I was not in Rwanda. In 1995, I left the Democratic Republic of Congo with my whole family. We walked about 500 kilometers on foot from Congo to Rwanda and our first break was taken at a small land in Gisenyi, Rwanda called Gasiza. At the time, the place was not quiet because many times we could hear gun shots from morning until the night. We stayed there about two years and we were not rich and not yet poor because my father had a good job at Kigali and he used to come at Gasiza each last weekend of each month. Suddenly, the year 1997 was the year in which the great God that I couldn’t believe blinked over me because that’s when the Rwandan genocide’s consequences came over me as rain full of storms.

An excited last weekend, a smooth night away from night winds inside a live and colorful house, sitting around a plate but looking straight in my father’s eyes, my hand on my new shoes. “Gentil! Finish up your food and if you perform well at school I will bring you clothes next time. Your mother will call me if you won at school so that I may bring it to you” were my dad’s last sayings. How can I forget that promise? How can I forget his smooth voice? Until now, I am waiting for new clothes from him because I know and believe that we will meet again one day.

Those were his last words because immediately I did what he wanted and went to bed. I was happy that night, but that was the day on which I was awaked when in the steel night. Around 4:30am, I was awaked by shootings of all kinds of guns. Me and my two little brothers were on the same bed and when we awoke, we went immediately in the father’s room and we met him halfway well dressed because he was ready to leave for Kigali. He said, “Don’t be afraid,” just because he believed that nothing will happen as usual. But it was not the case.

Looking through the window, there was many soldiers wearing their uniform who dad said were government soldiers. I couldn’t believe that because as I used to pass most of my time in their camp, I knew almost all of them and those were only new faces. We were used to that, so that my father told my mom that he is going out to check and ask those soldiers, but he holded my youngest brother in his hands.

He opened the door, and we were looking at him through the window when the soldier saw him. He pointed the gun at my father and told him to sit down. My mother obliged us to hide under the bed, me and my brothers in her room and my two sisters in another room. She continued to look at her husband in the hands of wolves. I didn’t see it, but suddenly she left the window saying, “He is dead! The soldier shooted at him!” Then she started crying.

I realized that what I noticed was true: those soldiers were not government soldiers but Interahamwe, who were soldiers fighting against FPR and most of them were accused of genocide. “They kills Tutsi,” said my sister, and I knew that if they kill my father, it’s because he is Tutsi. And if my father is a Tutsi, it means that even me, I am Tutsi. Our door was broken by means of a big stone and when the soldiers entered the house my mother was on her bed crying. “Another snake to kill here,” said a girl voice. “No!” claimed a man, “She have first to give us her husband’s uniform and gun.” I was under the bed and all I could see is their feet. My mother told them that my father was not a soldier, but they didn’t accept. One of the soldiers said to my mother to put her hands on a table and he nailed her hands on that table. Without saying any other word, my mom said, “My husband is not a soldier.”

“Hello. They are coming? Copied. Let’s move; their gods are coming,” said the girl again. Immediately everyone left, but one soldier told my mother to give him money so that he may bring her the young man in the hands of his father’s corpse. She gave him about 75.000 FRW ($150) and he brought the young man to his mom. With armor on the ground, helicopters in the sky, the Interahamwe escaped through forests and mountains.

My mother called me and I removed the nails from her hands. Government soldiers came and evacuated almost everyone but my mother refused to move so I did too. As soldiers were helping her with her hands, she told me to go and check what happened to my grandfather’s house. When entering the house, I saw my little uncle breathing his last breath. His father was already dead on the bed, his mother behind a cupboard with a knife in the head, and his sister with his brother without heads. That day my father, grandfather, grandmother, two uncles, and two aunties died.

By the help of two men we dug a hole in which we buried all of them. The great part of my family was buried at Gasiza and when I go back sometimes at Gasiza, it’s not because I like that place. I will never get tired of waiting for my father’s promise and I know that I will see him at the right time.

Gentil Kalisa
Senior Six, PCM

African Learning Foundation

2010-08-10T15:09:00.000-07:00

I recently started a non-profit, African Learning Foundation (ALF). Our mission statement is as follows:

“The African Learning Foundation will promote education in Africa by building school and community libraries, laboratories and other educational facilities and by providing scholarships and internship opportunities to students with outstanding need or academic merit.”

Our first major project will be to raise $60,000 to build the first library in my town of Musanze. ALF will also create a scholarship fund and pay to ship books received via book drives. Once we have a website up and running, you will be able to track the progress of various projects as well as read student bios and personal essays.

ALF's first fundraiser will be held in October. I am currently in the process of producing a catalog of African jewelry, African print wrap skirts and bags (messenger bags, purses, laptop bags, and diaper bags), Christmas ornaments, Christmas cards and notecards, and other small gift items that will be sold at the fundraiser. Orders will be taken in October and merchandise will be distributed in early December, when I return to Pennsylvania.

The items that we are selling during the fundraiser are created by charities that employ and benefit various marginalized groups such as street children, widows, and people who are HIV-positive.

To donate or host an ALF fundraiser at your business or organization this October, please email me at africanlearningfoundation@yahoo.com.

Check out the pics below to see a few of the jewelry items which we will be selling.

Paper bead earrings and necklaces shown below are created by Caritas charities, which employs street children and pays for their school fees.

Glass bead necklace and slinky bracelet

Glass bead geometric headband

Marbelized clay bead necklace and earrings

My Students Have Their Own Blog!

2010-07-18T13:04:00.000-07:00

My Media Club students have just created their own blog! Check out Bluestarmusanze!

So far they have only posted some introductory info, but pics, video, and articles are soon to come. Take a gander and feel free to leave a comment; it'll make their day!

Ecole des Sciences de Musanze

2010-06-24T16:06:00.000-07:00

My School

One of My Senior 6 English Classes

Senior 1, Lounging During Break

Beds. Outside of the Senior 6 Classrooms for Months. Why? Nobody Knows.

Relaxing in the Sweet Musanze Sun, During the Lunch Hour

Around Musanze Town

2010-05-14T14:02:00.000-07:00

I'm madly in love with Musanze, the district in which I live. On clear days, I can see five volcanoes from my house. The weather is temperate year-round, and the town has a perfect mixture of "rustic charm" and modern conveniences (hotel wireless, for instance).

I've been itching to wander around snapping pics with my digital slr for ages, but I didn't feel comfortable taking pics of the townspeople. Eventually, my friend Pascal and I took a Saturday afternoon off to stroll about snapping pics. As I suspected, reactions to a muzungu (white person, rich person) photographing the poor inhabitants of the town was not readily accepted. People shied away from me and my camera before I even lifted the camera from where it hung around my neck.

Then Pascal had an idea.

He took my camera in hand and began photographing people right and left, with nary a complaint. The following are some of the pics that survived the transfer from my broken laptop:

Pascal

A girl on the road with a load to tote

Gathering firewood to cook the day's meals

Those are enormous bags of potatoes on their heads

Transporting plantains to market

Musanze foot traffic

Ah, the ol' wheel and stick!

Classic.

Student Pics

2010-05-12T00:49:00.000-07:00

The following are some pics of one of my four Senior 6 English classes. My students are amazing. Now if only I could get them all to smile for pictures!

Check out my ridiculous lab space: Roughly 50 Senior 5 students crammed around six tables. What a recipe for chaos! However,we are getting a lot of use out of the microscopes donated by Millersville University. Thanks MU!

More Nyanza Orphanage Pics

2010-04-01T07:55:00.001-07:00

Nyanza Orphanage Pics

2010-03-21T10:01:00.000-07:00

Nyanza Orphanage Pics--I let these kids loose with my camera and this is what they gave me:

Kigali Pics

2010-03-19T11:50:00.000-07:00

Pics from Kigali, the capital city

International Women's Day

2010-03-14T11:30:00.000-07:00

In America, every day is "both Women's Day and Men's Day." That is what I told my students. But Rwandans celebrate International Women’s Day on March 8th. Every other day, they joke, is for men. My students and fellow teachers were shocked to learn that International Women’s Day is not celebrated in the United States. In fact, I had never heard of it.

I was shocked to learn that women celebrated Women’s Day by doing nothing at all—literally. Rwandan women are not obligated to perform work of any kind on Women’s Day. Our female teachers all stayed home. That is, except for me, of course. I wasn’t made aware of Women’s Day. I taught a full hour of class on Monday until a student pointed out to me that the school was closed. It was also pointed out to me that I shouldn’t be making the female students study and/or think on this particular day. Why, you may ask, did the students even bother to show up for class? Well, let me tell you! Because they LIVE in their classrooms!!! My students wake up at 5:30am, get ready for the day, and are booted out the doors of their ridiculously crowded dormitories, which are promptly bolted shut behind them. The students reside in their classroom most waking hours of the day! But I digress. Women’s Day is a big deal here. Ironically, the fact that the school closes on this most celebrated of days means that the male teachers have the day off as well.

Unbeknownst to me, I had picked the perfect topic with which to introduce the concept of “debate” to my Senior 6 (12th grade) classes. My students were to ponder the statement “Rwandan women should not have the same rights and entitlements that men have,” and present arguments in agreement with, or in opposition of, this statement. Never mind the fact that in most classes, the women are too shy to vocalize a negative argument, let alone an affirmative argument—my brighter students, both male and female, took to the assignment with gusto!

It quickly became obvious that most students were presenting their own points of view, rather than playing devil’s advocate. Many of my students are fairly progressive in their ideas regarding gender equality, although the men are not necessarily thrilled with the “affirmative action” policy employed by the Rwandan university system to increase the number of female enrollees. However, a few of the male students shared views that more closely mirror those of the older generation (i.e., the male teachers who call me “Mister” when I teach in slacks). Since Rwandans are devoutly religious people, Biblical references were often cited as evidence that women were not meant to share the same rights as men. “Woman was created from man and must therefore be subservient to man.” My favorite response to that argument: “Objects made from wood are more useful than the wood itself; thus, women are more useful than men and should share the same rights.” While I truly appreciated the originality of that argument, I tried to gently prod my classes into accepting that men and women could form equal partnerships. Most of my students, however, seemed eager to embrace the battle of the sexes in a war for superiority. Well, at least I got them debating!

Someone decided that a school “pageant” would be a good way of celebrating Women’s Day. A girl from each class was selected by her peers to participate in the pageant. Contestants were selected based on six criteria:
1. Devoutness and participation in prayer/religious activities
2. Intelligence (high grades)
3. Participation in sports
4. Singing ability
5. Ability to speak both English and French
6. Sociability

During the pageant, contestants wore traditional Rwandan garb, resembling complexly wrapped saris in bright floral prints. Each girl was required to answer two general knowledge questions—one in French and one in English (read at a rate of 1/2 syllable per second by yours truly, yet still nearly incomprehensible to most everyone present, due to my deplorable “American pronunciation”). Each contestant was also required to sing a song of her own choosing, with or without accompaniment. Oh, and she was expected to do this while standing alone on stage in front of 7 judges and an apathetic (and sometimes heckling) audience of 700 + students! Individual performances ranged from tragic to laudable, depending on the self-confidence of the individual, the difficulty of the questions (drawn by lottery), and innate singing talent. All of the girls displayed a lot of guts just by participating—I would NOT have. However, our headmaster had previously let me in on a secret: all of the girls would be crowned winners! I fully agreed with the spirit of his decision.

The pageant largely passed without incident. Some of the singers were heckled for an obvious lack of singing ability, but the worst singers won favor from the audience by hamming up their terrible performances with enthusiasm. Each contestant had her high points and her low points, but the woman who outshone everyone else on stage was one of my Senior 6 students, who co-emceed the show with grace, intelligence, and wit. After all of the contestants had performed, it was proclaimed that each of the women was a pageant winner, to the disappointed boos of the crowd. The student body wanted a definitive winner. However, the young ladies who possessed the poise and courage to perform in front of both the judges and their peers demonstrated that they were definitely all winners!

Home Sweet (Moldy) Home

2010-03-02T04:12:00.001-08:00

My House: All cement construction and plenty of room. So what if it smells like sewer and mold and the walls sweat and grow fur...it's home!

The Kitchen: No fridge, but lots of ants! Also, for some unknown reason, no running water after 10-11pm. I'm living large with a double sink and a decent-sized table. No storage though...

My Stove: A one-burner hot plate that electrocutes me daily--it really helps me jumpstart my day!

My swampy, moldy bathroom: Believe it or not, I'm living in the lap of luxury with electricity, running water, and a semi-normal toilet instead of a hole in the ground (not that it flushes).

The jackpot? A hot water heater! It almost makes the sweaty, slimey walls and sewer stink all worth it...

My Bedroom! I forgot to snap a pic of my bedroom! Will update soon...

My Wish List!

2010-02-24T11:12:00.000-08:00

Several people have asked me what I'd like in a care package, so here is my list!

Chocolate, of course, but also books for the students. It is the craziest thing, but books are worth their weight in gold here. They are nearly impossible to find, well-loved to the point of being unreadable, and extremely expensive.

Flat rate boxes through USPS are the best deal going, but shipping to Rwanda is pricey and slow--I think the mail is transported via goat on the last leg of its journey. Still, care packages are always much appreciated. I've learned to do without a lot of things during the last couple months, but teaching without books is really cramping my style!

The List:

1. TOEFL prep books with practice tests
2. News and science magazines
3. Cliffs notes books, especially for the sciences!
4. Things fall apart by Chinua Achebe. This is considered the best African novel and I'd like my kids to read it (most have never read a novel). My goal is to obtain as many copies as possible. In a perfect world, I would acquire enough copies to assign it as reading for my senior class over the April break (I have about 160 seniors, so it may be a stretch).
5. I would also like a set of The Chronicles of Narnia (my fave) for the school.
6. A good dictionary--I forgot to bring one!
7. Speakers for my computer (for English listening exercises)
8. Molecular model kits for chemistry "lab"
9. Lindt chocolates (any kind of chocolate, really) and gummi candies for me :)

My mailing address:

Emma Eck
WorldTeach c/o KJ Fulkerson
Kigali Post Office
P.O. Box 4875
Kigali, RWANDA.
(writing GOD BLESS YOU somewhere on the package will keep it from getting tampered with)

Many Thanks Everyone!!!

Constantine and Fidele

2010-02-13T12:52:00.000-08:00

Every day I learn more and more of my students’ names and faces. More than a few students have sought me out to discuss American politics, world events, my opinions of Rwanda vs. America, and the possibility of studying at an American university. In stilted English, they relate to me their problems and their dreams.

Today a Senior 4 (10th grade) student, Constantine, chatted with me for a good 45 minutes about his home life and his schooling. He dreams of becoming a doctor. During the course of our talks, Constantine told me that he suffers from terrible headaches and that his eyes are extremely photosensitive. Desperate for a cure, his family took him to a traditional healer who informed them that Constantine’s eyes were “poisoned.” Now I’m certainly no optometrist, but his symptoms are identical to those from which I suffered before I finally got my glasses. All the boy needs is a new pair of specs!

I traded glasses with Constantine long enough for me to confirm that his prescription was extremely weak—little better than no glasses at all. When I told Constantine that I thought he needed a stronger prescription, he responded as I knew he would—his family can’t afford to buy him new glasses. A visit to the optometrist and a new pair of glasses would cost $50-$60, roughly equivalent to his school fees for an entire year (I had misstated the amount for school fees as $250 in a previous blog).

This is the second student whom I’ve spoken with who suffers from poor vision. Last week, one of my Senior 5 students, Fidele, informed me that he couldn’t see my Power Point presentation. I suspect that I have numerous students in need of a decent pair of glasses. These are extremely bright kids who struggle daily with a problem that no American kid need suffer from. So, my dear blog readers, if you are interested and able, please consider donating money to help me buy Constantine and Fidele new eyeglasses. You may contact me via email at emmalceck@yahoo.com for details. In Rwanda, something so seemingly small can change a kid’s life forever.

"Muzungu, Muzungu!"

2010-02-10T06:26:00.000-08:00

I am almost daily chased around town by a street kid with one useless leg asking me for money. To get around, he drags his body through the streets using his hands. His hands and clothes are filthy with dirt from the streets that other men spit in. Truth be told, it’s quite alarming. And man, is he FAST!

A week ago, I was in town with two fellow volunteers when the kid spotted us and gave chase. As a general rule, WorldTeach volunteers don't give handouts for three reasons: 1. There are simply too many people asking for money--colleagues, students, people on the street, everyone--and we simply can't help everyone 2. Giving handouts could become a safety concern (I keep envisioning getting mobbed on the streets of Musanze because I gave some kid 100 francs) 3. Most of us are on very tight budgets.

Despite the fact that every time I see him, I tell this kid that I don't give people money, he never gives up. My friends and I continued walking for an entire block with this guy dogging our heels, chanting "Muzungu Muzungu.” Several times we repeated, "Sorry, we don't give out money," as we faced forward and continued walking. In a final effort to shake him, we stepped off a three foot high step, thinking that he wouldn't be able to follow. Wrong. It was only an instant before he was at our heels again. I didn't immediately notice. Incredulous, my fellow volunteer turned to me and said, "How in the world did he get down that step?!" When I looked around and saw him at my feet, I burst out laughing! He laughed too, enjoying the joke of being completely underestimated by us and taking us by surprise.

I thought to myself that if circumstances were different, if we both spoke the same language, this street kid and I would most likely be friends. He seems like a guy with a great sense of humor. Next time he asks me for money, I’ll probably give him just a little. After all, in the grand scheme of things, what’s a few francs between friends?

Mailing Address

2010-02-10T06:14:00.000-08:00

For those who would like to send a care package my way, here is my mailing address. I would LOVE to receive something from home, but keep in mind, shipping to Africa is expensive. Check out the flat rate box at the post office for heavier items like books. I'll brainstorm a wish list in the next couple of days...I've learned to do without a lot, but I'd I could really go for some Lindt chocolates and dried mango slices from Trader Joe's--all of us WorldTeach volunteers have become completely obsessed with food :)

Emma Eck
WorldTeach c/o KJ Fulkerson
Kigali Post Office
P.O. Box 4875
Kigali, RWANDA.

All Apologies

2010-02-08T13:14:00.000-08:00

Please excuse the lack of pics and the length of some of my postings. I am fighting an epic battle against bad internet connections, but will attempt to make my blog more visitor friendly! Many thanks to all who are following along and wishing me well!

These Kids Are Gonna Crush Me

2010-02-08T13:09:00.000-08:00

I heart my students. For the most part, they are amazing people—thoughtful and funny, intelligent and sooo hard-working. This first term (February through March), I am only teaching 6 hours of biology lab per week for Senior 5 MCB (11th grade, Math-Chem-Bio Track). My headmaster wants me to spend much of my time mentoring clubs, such as Media Club and Science Club, and helping students and teachers with their English. Classes must be taught entirely in English. Somehow the teachers manage, even though their English skills are severely lacking. I’ve also been assisting the biology lecture teacher with lesson planning and scouring the web for scholarship opportunities for my kids.

My school is a Catholic Boarding school with 700 boys and girl aged ~13-25 years old, although I do have one student that is 28 years old. There isn’t really an age cut-off; when families can afford school fees, students go to school. Usually the older students had to take time off due to financial difficulties. If my understanding is correct, school fees run about $250 per year for secondary school. The strict regimentation resembles that of a prison, students are packed into their dormitories like sardines in bunk beds, and all they ever eat is rice and beans, rice and beans, rice and beans. And yet, you’ve never seen people so thankful for the opportunity to be here and learn…

We have a computer lab. The computers use floppy disks and, of course, we have no internet to speak of. Sometimes we don’t even have electricity. Armed with only my laptop, I am determined to teach these kids (as well as the teachers!), how to navigate the internet. Most of the older students use email once every few months, but no one has any idea how to use a search engine or conduct internet research of any kind. In fact, the other day one of the English teachers asked me to find the web page with literature. It’s always THE web page for this or that, because they really have no idea what’s out there. My students are incredibly knowledgeable about the subjects they study, as well as about world news and politics (more so than I am, I’m afraid), so it’s my goal to bridge the technology gap for them as much as I can. Stay tuned for student facebook pages later in the year!

My entire lab curriculum this year requires microscopes that we just don’t have. The microscopes donated to the school by Millersville University are on their way, but shipping will take a month or two. Until then, I have 6-8 students to a microscope. And the scopes themselves are fairly useless. Ah well, we’ll make due somehow. Happily, I lucked out in locating a projector for my laptop—a gift to the school from a Japanese non-profit that supports science education in developing countries! I found out about this jewel today and promptly procured it from the headmaster’s office where it is kept under lock and key. Sadly, I also found out today that I would be entrenched in a year-long custody battle for the projector with the computer class instructors.

Regardless, having access to Power Point totally made today’s lab. The instructor for the biology “theory” class adapts his lessons from a black and white textbook from the 1970s. Using the “chalk and talk” method, he writes all of the notes on the chalkboard, which the kids studiously copy verbatim. Using Power Point, I can incorporate microscopy pictures into my slide shows to show the students what they would see through their microscopes if they actually worked! Score!

I recently received an anonymous donation of $250 through the WorldTeach website (thanks so much, whoever you are)! That money will help fund our Media Club, which is comprised of ~70 students. The students’ goal is to publish (in English) a one-page weekly newsletter to be posted in the school. Subject matter includes local, national, and world events. Students will also publish a larger monthly newsletter to be distributed to 10 of the largest secondary schools in Musanze. Their goal is for their newsletter to become famous within the Musanze District. My goal is to help them. I’ve already committed to donating any additional funding necessary to make the newsletter happen. What’s a girl to do? Media Club is invaluable in helping the students hone their English, writing, and debating skills—skills that will determine whether these kids sink or swim in this harsh world of Rwanda.

Every day several people in town ask me for amafaranga (money). This is where my inability to speak Kinyarwanda comes in handy. Obviously, I’m unable to fund every Rwandan’s dinner and dreams, but since I’m a white foreigner, I’m seen as “rich.” And comparatively, I am rich. The ability to obtain an education via student loans, or buy a townhouse in Lancaster’s lovely west end via a 30-year mortgage, is unheard of here. Despite the fact that I’m an unpaid volunteer living on borrowed money, I’m rich in opportunity and a guarantee of future income. From what I’ve seen, the law of Rwanda is “sink or swim, and no second chances.”

That brings us to today. One of my students waited for me after class today. He informed me that he was unable to see my Power Point presentation. Although he was definitely one of the worst English speakers in my class, I managed to cobble together that he required expensive eye surgery—eye replacement surgery, in fact—if he was ever to see anything other than the paper right in front of his face. I’m not entirely clear on the details, but I’m thinking that maybe he needs a cornea transplant. All he could tell me was that his doctor told him his eye was destroyed and he needed a new one. He thought maybe I could help. It’s heartbreaking to tell some kid that you’re unable to help when there’s nothing in the world that you want more than to help. I looked into his eyes and told him that there was nothing I could do. It was then and there that I came to my realization: These kids are gonna crush me.

When Life Gives You Lemons

2010-02-02T03:59:00.000-08:00

When life gives you lemons (instead of the oranges that you thought you were buying at the agro market), eat them anyway and be glad you’ve staved off scurvy for another day! This is my philosophy.

Yesterday was the first day of school, but not really. At the last possible moment (I found out today, Tuesday), the Ministry of Education announced that because Monday was Heroes Day (Veteran’s Day), there would be no school, even though my Headmaster had told me unequivocally, just days previous, that school started Monday. Thanks for the heads up! In the states we somehow manage to get a week’s notice for trick-or-treat night, which is insignificant, completely arbitrary and changes every year; it’s not like Heroes Day snuck up on us; it’s been up there on the calendar this whole time…

I waited outside my classroom yesterday for a whole 45 minutes before I gave up and went home. Throngs of students were everywhere, and as per usual, they were all extremely eager to find out my marital status, but the offices were closed and there was nary a teacher in sight!

Today was the actual first day of school. And by “actual,” I mean that for some reason, even though I was scheduled to teach today, I still didn’t have class. Class just didn’t happen—this is one of the many mysteries I’ve encountered during my time here. It’s like trying to uncover the meaning of life or decipher an ancient scroll written in a dead language—except that some of the people here kinda speak English and still can’t give you a good reason for the things that happen.

Since my school is one of the premier science boarding schools in the country, my headmaster cracks a mean whip and demands that the students be present for the first day of class, instead of trickling into school the first two weeks a few students at a time (as in most Rwandan schools). To ensure that students arrive on time, an exam is given the first day of class, which counts as a fourth of the grade for each of the three terms.

Two weeks ago, I was informed that I would be giving an exam. Four days ago, I was again informed that I would be giving an exam. Four days ago, I obtained the course curriculum for this year, as well as for last year, and I wrote up an exam based on material taught last year. Today, I was outside my lab at 7:45 to proctor my 8:00 exam. At 8:00, my lab was still locked; I happened to notice an inconspicuous piece of paper posted in the courtyard: According to the Ministry of Education, classes were to begin Tuesday (now you tell me!) and students were to be administered a 2-hour exam, starting at 8:15. Ha!—thought you got me with that one, didn’tcha? Not so! Although I was only scheduled to teach a 50 minute class, I had plenty of test to give, and it was haaaard! At 8:15, I met my fellow biology teachers and received my first tour of the lab—still no students. I mean, there were students in other classrooms, just not in mine. I told my fellow bio teachers that I had an exam that I was just itchin’ to give (it was soooo haaaard!), and asked them if they knew if I was supposed to be giving an exam today, and if not, who was giving it? I was escorted to the Academic Master who informed me that I should be administering an exam today, but that exams were taken in the classroom, not the lab.

I received many different directions for classroom Senior 5 MCB, but haven’t yet located it. For one second, I thought I had found it—I had walked to a classroom located in the far corner of the courtyard, as indicated by one of my colleagues. It was full of students, but there was no one at the helm—this must be IT! No such luck. The unmanned class was an English class; the teacher was MIA. However, the helpful students indicated that my classroom was located in the opposite direction. I introduced myself before investigating my new lead, “Nitwa Emma! Muraho and goodbye!” I exited the classroom, the echoes of uproarious laughter following after. Another total fail—I had been directed to the Senior 6 classrooms, not Senior 5. It was now around 8:40. As I wandered around the courtyard, I saw nary a student or teacher. Everyone was in a classroom, either silently writing an exam on the chalkboard, or diligently copying the exam into a notebook. Alas, alack, what was I to do?

Then, in the distance, who did I spy? My Headmaster! Surely he could tell me where my class was! I related my problem to Father Jean Claude and he responded, “Who told you that you were giving a test today?”

“You did,” I said.

“Some of the classes have been combined. This test is very serious for the students. You are not giving a test today. You will give a lab practical test the next time you teach, but today you should relax and mingle.”

Soooo, I decided to go back to my lab and take an inventory of equipment and supplies. Sigh. It wasn’t looking good. I checked out the few microscopes we had and found them to be severely lacking. Sure, they magnified at 40x (the lowest magnification) just fine, but crank them up to any higher magnification and everything was a hot blurry mess. These were the “good” microscopes. I investigated the microscopes that had “not so good function.” Broken is what I would call them. Completely, unusably, BROKEN. I didn’t see one decent microscope in the bunch, and guess what Senior 5 Biology Practical is all about? You guessed it: cytology, histology, all my favorite microscopy stuff, but without one decent microscope. Thankfully, I had a few good microscopes of my own…except that I had left them at home in the States, pending an actual address to ship them to. Time to get on my horse and have Ben ship them, pronto! And don’t even get me started on the tangled mess of prepared slides or the “reagent cabinet….”

At this point, the Academic Master entered the lab and asked me where I was giving my exam today. It was past 9:00. I told him that the Headmaster informed me that I wasn’t giving an exam today. The Academic Master looked confused, left the room, and never came back. Fifteen minutes later, two of the biology teachers came in and asked me if my exam was over already. I informed them that Father Jean Claude had told me that I wasn’t giving an exam. I was asked, “Why not?”

“Becaaause….,” I searched for an answer, “I don’t know!”

I threw my hands up, defeated, and they laughed.

Tomorrow, a day or two after the official start of the school year, I will attend the first teachers’ meeting. I am hoping for some answers to my myriad questions, but like the oranges that turned out to be lemons, but may still indeed be oranges (I can’t be sure, even after eating one), some things are bound to remain a mystery…

Fast Internet, FINALLY!

2010-01-31T08:23:00.000-08:00

Over a month into my yearlong stay in Rwanda and I just today found a fast enough internet connection to log onto blogspot! Until now, I've been struggling with basic email and facebook via the slowest, most unstable internet connections ever. So Hurrah for good internet!!! I've decided to post some email adaptations as blog posts for the next week or so until I'm up to date. Here goes #1 of 4:

Today I left St. Paul’s Mission in Kigali, where I, along with 17 other WorldTeach volunteers, have been getting acculturated to Rwanda and receiving Kinyarwanda instruction. We will be staying in the small town of Nyanza for our weeklong teaching practicum, while we instruct students, teachers, and community members in English. After a 2 hour bus ride, we arrived at a swanky hotel, which is pretty nice compared to the digs at St. Paul’s. Even so, the rooms hadn’t been cleaned for our scheduled arrival, and promptly flooded with torrential rains, and dinner on the balcony took 2 hours to be served after we ordered. But that was dinner. Let me tell you about today!

Today we visited an orphanage in Nyanza and spent all day playing with the children. First the kids performed a traditional welcoming song and dance for us and then we all went to a field and played soccer, took photos, etc. The long-haired women in my group got their hair braided, whether they liked it or not. I let a couple of the girls take photos with my camera. In general, they cut heads off, but some of the pics turned out pretty well.

I spent a lot of time today with three girls in particular—Sementine, Angelique, and Diane, all of whom are about 13 years old. They gave me a tour of the grounds and we took pictures outside, in the church, and in the kitchen where some dudes were stoking a huge fiery oven. Diane walked me around holding my hand, carrying my purse, and at one point told me that she’d never forget me. It was strange. I haven't decided whether some of the things the kids say are canned English phrases that they pick up in movies or songs or if they are genuinely sincere. In any case, I wrote down the names and address of the three girls, so I hope to send them the pics we took together.

Overall, it was a surreal, but happy, kind of a day. More news tomorrow on how my first day of practicum went…

16 Days Until Launch-Off

2009-12-10T13:20:00.000-08:00

There are only 17 more days until I leave for Rwanda and my emotions are so mixed that I really can’t tell what I’m feeling!

Of course it will be sad to leave friends and family behind for an entire year, but right now those feelings are eclipsed by the ocean of excitement and uncertainty about the year ahead of me. So many details are still up in the air! My exact placement has not yet been determined, so I could end up living in a city, village, or rural area. To fully immerse myself in the culture and language of Rwanda, I requested that I live with a family in a village or rural location, so I will most likely be living in a relatively remote area without running water or electricity. In preparation, I have purchased a Steripen water purification kit and a 10 gallon shower bag. My ESL students have been asking a lot of questions about my likely living conditions and they were blown away when I told them that some people in Rwanda must walk several miles each day to fill jugs full of water for drinking and bathing. They were especially concerned when we discussed the possibility of me shaving my head, if daily showers become impossible! But I say, when in Rome…

Thus far, I have obtained 6 of my 9 vaccines for various diseases such as yellow fever, polio, cholera, typhoid fever, etc. I’ve been getting 3 shots at a time, which is not at all a pleasant feeling when I can’t move my throbbing arm the next day! To prevent contracting malaria, I’ll be taking daily doxycycline tablets. There is a weekly malaria pill, but I’ve been told that one of its possible side effects is psychosis, so NO THANKS!!!

I fervently hope that when my teaching placement is finalized I will have manageable class sizes of students who speak and understand at least some English. As I’ve learned with my ESL students at the Literacy Council, it can be quite a formidable challenge to communicate even the simplest concepts (such as how to use an American toilet) when a language barrier is present. I am truly passionate about science and HIV/AIDS education because I believe that these subjects are so fundamentally important to the health and well-being of people everywhere; therefore, I want to be able to teach these subjects effectively!

Rwanda 1st Landmine-Free Country

2009-12-04T09:19:00.000-08:00

According to a recent BBC article, Rwanda is the first country to be declared landmine-free by the Cartagena Summit on a Mine-Free World. Prior to this designation, hundreds of people had been killed or injured in Rwanda by landmines laid between 1990 and 1994. Specially trained Rwandan soldiers have destroyed more than 9,000 mines in the past three years.

Since land is at a premium in Rwanda, the most densely populated African country, this is an especially significant accomplishment. Farmers, who comprise 80% of the population, are now able to farm their land without fear of death or injury. Wow, what a relief---I can't imagine having to balance a fear of starving with a fear of having limbs blown off in the process of trying to feed one's family!

For Rwanda to be declared landmine-free according to the Ottawa Treaty, it had to not only ensure that its land was free of mines, but destroy any landmine stockpiles it may have had. The U.S. is not deemed a mine-free country because, along with China, Russia, India, and about 3 dozen other countries, the U.S. has declined to sign the Ottawa Treaty banning the use, stockpiling, production, and transfer of anti-personnel mines.

In news story after news story, I have read nothing but great things about the advances that Rwanda has made politically, technologically, medically, educationally, etc. Every new tidbit of information makes me even more excited to begin living and teaching in Rwanda. And although I hadn't given any previous thought to the danger I might encounter in Rwanda due to land mines, I've gotta say that I'm liking the news that landmines are no longer an issue! I can't wait to do some serious hiking once I get there!!!

My Rwanda Wish List

2009-11-23T12:14:00.000-08:00

I'm still accepting donations and trying to compile educational materials to take with me to Rwanda. On the top of my "wish list" are microscopes and slides/coverslips, ball and stick molecule model kits, and anatomical posters and models. If you have any of these items that you would like to donate, please contact me at emmalceck@yahoo.com so that I can arrange pick-up. If you would like to donate money towards the purchase of these items, you may donate online through WorldTeach, or you may mail donations to my home address below. WorldTeach is a non-profit, non-governmental organization sponsored by Harvard's Center for International Development, so your donation is 100% tax-deductible. If you choose to donate money through WorldTeach, please specify Emma Eck as the recipient of your donation.

I would like to thank those who took the time to donate money and materials to this cause. If you DO NOT want me to thank you by name on my blog, please let me know! Please know that I may not always receive specific donor information for those who choose to donate through WorldTeach.

Many thanks to all who have supported this WorldTeach teaching initiative thus far!

Emma Eck
349 North West End Ave.
Lancaster, PA 17603

Literacy Council ESL Teaching

2009-11-13T12:44:00.001-08:00

By now I've fulfilled my 25 hour TESL requirement in preparation for teaching in Rwanda. I've been teaching ~9 hours of ESL each week at the Literacy Council of Lancaster and I've discovered that I really enjoy it, so I'll probably continue teaching until a week or two before I leave for Rwanda.

My class of ~25 students is comprised of adult learners from Bhutan, Nepal, Thailand, Cuba, and Puerto Rico, many of whom are refugees. The group is very diverse in terms of both culture and ability. While some are literate in their native language, others are not, which poses an even greater challenge for the students as well as the teacher! The main point of these mixed classes is to equip refugees with basic life skills so that they can live and work and function in American society.

I've been having reading and discussion periods with some of the more advanced students, and next week I'll be reviewing basic math concepts, which I'm very excited about (hopefully the students will be as well).

Anyone who might be interested in teaching ESL and Life Skills classes or tutoring one-on-one should contact the Literacy Council. Funding has been cut to many of these programs, so volunteer support is needed more now than ever!

AIDS is leading cause of Death in Women Worldwide

2009-11-13T11:58:00.000-08:00

The World Health Organization just came out with new data showing that the AIDS virus is the leading cause of death among women aged 15-44.

"Throughout the world, one in five deaths among women in this age group is linked to unsafe sex, according to the U.N. agency." Women often lack access to contraceptives or simply do not know how to protect themselves from infection.

The report goes on to discuss the disparity between the health treatment received by women vs. that received by men. "In many parts of the world [women] suffer serious disadvantages because of poverty, poorer access to health care and cultural norms that put a priority on the well-being of men...the discrimination extends throughout a women's life, from girlhood diseases that aren't identified because they are not sicknesses affecting boys, to clinical trials and medicines developed on the basis of curing adult males."

Countdown to Rwanda: Less than 2 Months to Go!

2009-11-06T10:48:00.000-08:00

In less than two months, I will leave virtually everything I know behind to live and teach high school math and science in Rwanda for an entire year! I am beyond thrilled!

This sure-to-be-epic journey will be coordinated through WorldTeach, a non-profit organization sponsored by Harvard's Center for International Development. I will be employed as a volunteer teacher through WorldTeach and Rwanda's Ministry of Education. Although some of the WorldTeach programs are paying positions, the year-long Rwanda program is not. I am currently fundraising to pay my $6000 program fee, which includes the cost of round-trip airfare, health insurance, a monthly stipend comparable to a typical Rwandan teacher’s salary, and field support. It is my hope that I will be able to fundraise additional money so that I may take along educational supplies and equipment (there is a good chance that I can get donated microscopes, but I must still pay to ship them)!

The recent history of Rwanda is a dark one. It’s been fifteen years since the 1994 Rwandan genocide, during which 800,000 Tutsis were slaughtered by the Hutu Power regime over a 100 day period. In researching for my trip to Rwanda, the genocide’s legacy seems to be all-pervasive. I’ve recently been reading studies on post-traumatic stress disorder and the use of various forms of therapy in the aftermath of the genocide.

One of the most promising therapies is narrative exposure therapy (NET), through which survivors detail the events of their traumas, essentially reliving their nightmares and reexperiencing all of the emotions associated with them. Studies have shown that this intense therapy results in habituation of the emotional response associated with the trauma, thus mitigating PTSD symptoms. Many studies have shown that short-term NET is more effective than traditional psychotherapy in treating PTSD, while at the same time being cost-effective and relatively simple to use, even by laymen. Any kind of administration of therapy is certainly outside of my job description, but considering that many of the students I will be teaching are surviving orphans of the genocide, it might be a good idea for me to have an understanding of mental health issues that I am likely to encounter. How does one return to normalcy after living through hell on earth? Will these children, who are most certainly haunted by this country’s ugly past, be able to thrive in the classroom and in the community?

As if these children haven’t been faced with enough challenges in their lives, many deal with the day-to-day reality of being infected with HIV. Superstitions and misinformation regarding HIV abound; therefore, proper education is imperative! The lives of these children literally depend upon the quality of HIV/AIDS education that they receive, if any. The opportunity to be involved in the formation of an HIV/AIDS education class is one of the most significant reasons that I applied to this program. My greatest passions are the study of emerging infectious diseases, vector-transmitted diseases (malaria), virology (HIV/AIDS, yellow fever), and parasitology (elephantiasis, river blindness). I’m hoping that I will be able to both learn and educate about disease prevention, pathology, and epidemiology during my stay.

Since I will be living in relative cultural and geographical isolation without friends or family or my usual distractions of television and easy internet access, I have decided to use much of my downtime in Rwanda to study for my MCATs, so that I may apply to Penn State Hershey’s MD/PhD program upon my return.

I am very passionate about math and science (biology in particular) and I am so excited by the opportunity to teach in a country that is in such great need of English-speaking teachers as it switches its national language over to English. If you would like to support this teaching initiative by contributing funds toward my $6000 program fee, you may donate through WorldTeach.org (please specify that your donations are in support of Emma Eck), or you may donate directly to my home address: 349 N. West End Avenue, Lancaster, PA 17603.

I encourage everyone to follow along with me on my journey as I continue to blog about the joys and challenges of teaching in Rwanda!