In the Land of a Thousand Hills

Julio Villasenor

…..  and so after months of planning, a hectic week of packing and endless moments daydreaming about it, I landed in Rwanda.

Delphine, the Country Director of the Ihangane Project, the organization I will be working with this summer was at the airport to pick me up and after a quick and friendly introduction we jumped on a car and started making our way to Ruli which sits high on the northern hills about 40kms from the capital.

As we drove out of Kigali I was struck by how dark and still the night was. Even though there were a couple of other cars on the road the night seemed to have a peacefulness to it that I found surprising. In retrospect this might have been my mind starting to relax after hours of airplanes and airports but nonetheless, in my mind my first impression of Rwanda will always have a magical quality to it.

I have often heard that a great way to put a restless baby to sleep will be to stick him in a car and drive around for a while. As a parent I can attest to the almost miraculous effects that this will have on a baby. As an adult I can attest to the dangers of drawing from this well too often – thanks to my dear parents, much like Pavlov’s dog, I have been trained to act a certain way and, for as far back as I can remember, I cannot stay awake in a moving vehicle.

This trait of mine is of particular nuisance when you have just arrived in an unknown country and your new host is making conversation. I pinched myself as hard and in as many places as I could but I could recognize the familiar unavoidable signs that I was about to lose consciousness.

I needn’t have worried.

Soon the car made a sharp turn and we started down a bumpy roller-coaster dirt road complete with sharp ninety degree turns, ravine near misses, fallen tree obstacles and small village check points. Did I mention we had Rwanda’s version of Evel Knievel at the wheel?

This was a little over a week ago. Since then I have developed a new appreciation for the ups and downs we had to cross in order to get here. The view from most anywhere in Ruli is of sprawling hills that twist and bend in many shades of green. The clouds are a constant companion for the many different birds and insects that you can see or hear in an otherwise pure blue sky. My favorite is peering out of my window to see the thunder when it is about to rain (or when the sky is about to come down since that is what night rain here feels like) or seeing the morning clouds disperse between the hills in the morning.

As I discover my new surroundings I also learn to appreciate things from my everyday life back home which are considered a luxury here: tap water one can drink, hot showers in a none-squatting position and a reliable internet connection are among the most notable.

To be able to connect to the internet signal I have to stand outside, between the hospital administrative offices (where I get the connection from) and the row of smaller rooms where the Ihangane Project office is located. Far from being an irritation I actually enjoy the opportunity to sit and work outside, especially since I get to see people’s faces as they walk around and suddenly see this umuzungu, completely out of place, sitting on the floor desperately typing on his laptop. Kids are the best in this respect, they approach me, sit down next to me and, as they watch me work, start conversations that go on way past the point at which it becomes obvious that neither of us understands the other. Still, a smile is universal language right?

This week I also had the opportunity to go with JD and Dianne to the place where the porridge production facility is being built. We went up there on taxi bikes and walked down to the office on a path that wound through different small family plots in which maize, coffee, soy, sorghum, carrots and potatoes were growing. JD mentioned that these were the “back alleys” he used to hide in when he wanted to skip school but for me it was more akin to something out of a Peter Rabbit novel – amazing how the place we grow up in will shape the way we look at new environments.

The porridge production facility will be the core of my work the next following months as I work with the Ihangane Project to develop a business plan and strategy to make fortified porridge production for HIV+ mothers and children a sustainable business. So far I have gotten a rough draft of some of the variable and fixed costs that they will face and an idea of what total output might look like, but, even though it is still early days, I get the feeling that the truly sustainable solution will lay in how to bring different stakeholders and members of the community together.

For now, I look forward to the following weeks in which I continue to learn from and explore this beautiful land.