Pre-Game
Yesterday, we began a sort of AMU doubleheader with members of the AMU Stars, a football team composed of “at risk” kids (based more on home situation than whether or not they have HIV/AIDS). AMU provides balls, uniforms, and a coach, and they act sort of like a travel team would stateside. They have a U-10 team, U-13 team, and U-16 team, with the U-16 being based more on “football age” than real age. (From the sounds of it, it’s common to lie about age in these situations, since many Rwandans come across as young for their age, meaning you end up with some “big kids” in the U-16 age range.) The teams had games scheduled for this morning, and the intent of AMU was for us to get to know some of the players before having us root them on.
In order to become closer with the kids as planned, AMU set up home visits utilizing three interpreters (splitting us into three groups again). Prior to heading off, we were provided with one bag of flour + sugar (basically oatmeal) to give to each family as a gift in exchange for letting us visit (this was apparently purchased with funds we raised prior to leaving Michigan). With bags in hand, we first walked to Samuel’s house, winding through thin alleys between clay houses, and eventually arriving at a tiny three room hut/house with no yard and children collected out front. We packed into what I suppose could be considered their living room, a space maybe half the size of our bedroom here, with no windows and a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling (surprisingly, they did seem to have electricity in a limited fashion). While only five of Samuel’s siblings and his mother were visiting with us today, his mother had apparently given birth to 17 children, with 12 surviving. His father was in prison, and his mother worked various day jobs to support the family. It was a rough thing to see, but the family was incredibly welcoming and talkative while we were there.
The trek to Frederic’s home wasn’t any easier or straightforward than that to Samuel’s, requiring us to walk down what I suppose was a steep alley with a deep gutter running down the middle (the gutters here are huge, allowing for necessary drainage in the rainy seasons). Frederic’s house was somewhat larger, at least having a window in the room in which we met, but his father was also in prison, with his mother working day jobs. While we never asked about why Samuel’s father was in prison, we learned that Frederic’s father had been accused of taking part in the genocide, and he had been waiting for his gacaca trial for three months. Being that the 100 day genocide took place 17 years ago, this was a bit of a revelation, although not necessarily surprising. In fact, it wouldn’t be surprising if Samuel’s father was in prison for similar reasons. However, for me at least, it did bring up the question of just how many children have been born well after the genocide, only to lose fathers to prison years after the fact. It’s incredibly hard to sympathize with men who murdered and are now getting (limited) justice, but I do empathize with children who played no part but are now scraping by as the legal system catches up. (Keeping in mind that rape was used as a weapon in ’94, a genocide survivor close to our program this summer actually spoke to us about children being born as results of rape during the genocide, and their lives seem particularly difficult, as extended family often disown them and mothers struggle with their own trauma.)
After the morning visits, I went into town on my own to exchange some money and buy some pop (I generally live on warm water and enjoy some flavor when I can get it). On the ride back, I sat next to a man on the bus who had a linear scar running from his cheek, through his ear, and to the back of his head, with an additional scar on the back of his neck. It was just another example of how signs of the genocide survive today and people continue to live on.
Side note: Yesterday we had a first rainfall since we arrived on July 6th.
The Games
This morning, we met briefly at AMU before heading off to watch the games scheduled against
YOSC (Youth Sports Contact), which I believe has a mission comparable to that of the AMU Stars program. The field, which was part of three tiered complex, was composed entirely of dirt and had goalposts without nets. Since the field was built on a hill (as are most things around here), one side of the field was walled off by a steep incline and the other had a steep drop into a neighborhood. The incline was fair game, and it was treated essentially as a wall would be in indoor soccer. The decline was guarded by ball boys, and teams took throw-ins if the ball went out on that side. We were stationed with a horde of kids on the hill overlooking the field.
We arrived at the beginning of the U-10 game, and it was quickly apparent how much the kids cared about the game (if it wasn’t already). Granted, I don’t know how many of the kids were actually under 10, but it was still impressive seeing them heading the ball around pulling out moves that I may or may not have been able to do in my “prime.” The AMU stars won that game 1-0, and on came the U-13 teams, from which we had visited players yesterday. Samuel predicted that their team would score 3 goals, and Frederic predicted a 4-0 blowout. Sure enough, their team won 4-0 (they must do some serious scouting here). Throughout the process, the kids surrounding us started paying less attention to the game and more attention to the muzungus around them. It’s not uncommon for them to want to pet my furry arms/legs, but today was especially full of it. They were petting my arms, petting my legs, petting my head, petting my eyebrows, rubbing their faces to my arms... If I had a personal-space bubble it had been popped many times over.
After the U-13 game, we made our way to the shade of a tree with the kids and basically hung out there for the duration of the U-16 game. There was more mauling and some little games of soccer. While we were over there, we were informed that we would need to put a team together to play against their U-16 team after the game. With most of the girls in our group having left for lunch, I think we ended up finding 8 of us to play, and they supplied some players to round us out. Thankfully, they took it plenty easy on us, and we ended up “winning” after their keeper let a shot through his legs... and a spectator by one of the posts deflected the shot in.
In the process, I got fried. I had been getting minimal color at best this trip, likely less than I would have back home, and I hadn’t actually applied sunscreen since my first week here. However, we were outside much longer than planned this morning, and my attempt to put on sunscreen after I had already gotten too much sun was quickly offset by more mauling and petting (they liked to rub sunscreen off of arms and smell it). The good news is that I wore a shirt all day, meaning I can still sleep at night. Also, my face and neck seemed to take the least heat, so I should still look okay in a tux.
Post-Game
After the game, we went back to AMU for some corn (pretty waxy), some Fanta, and a dance party. I don’t quite understand the reasoning behind it, but it’s apparently a tradition. They had kids from both AMU and YOSC there, with music pounding through some speakers they set up... and it was a sweaty free-for-all. I believe we finally got home around 4:30, at which point I was running on a hardboiled egg, some bread, and Fanta (I was actually in the bathroom while the corn was being passed out). It was a long day, which was compounded by the girls’ demands to go out tonight (remember that they ate at a buffet while the rest of us ran around a dirt field). So, I’m exhausted.
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| Like I said before, my camera is toast. So, here's a picture of my bedroom. It's pretty bare-bones, with two beds, two mosquito nets, and some windows. The mosquito nets aren't exactly the most effective devices, just barely reaching down to the bed. While the nets at the hotel in Kibuye covered the entire bed and reached the floor, you have to tuck these under your pillow and hope that your head or an arm doesn't come out during the night (the mosquitoes are vicious if it happens). It's even worse if a mosquito manages to spend the night inside the net. |
