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Schools, Beavers, and Jesus

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 15:10:00 -0400

Hope International School against the setting sun.

I had to look twice to be certain but I’m pretty sure it was a live beaver, dangling head first, with its feet tied to a stick. “Fifty Cedi” was the offer. My instinctual reaction countered at 20 before I realized I had absolutely no need for a beaver-on-a-stick. I would much rather buy a good, used paperback. But no such luck. In fact, there isn’t a major book store in the entire country. I have been in Africa for too long.

We took a different road to the school than we did last year. I didn’t recognize anything. But then a lot can change in a year out here. “They even paved the road,” Eric said gleefully. “I can tell,” I mustered as we careened into a, well, beaver-sized pockmark in the road that sent my head into the ceiling of the ragged VW Golf. But as we got closer to the school I started remembering. What used to be piles upon piles of locally-made cinder blocks now composed a beautiful wall, 2 meters (6 feet) high, around the majestic Hope International School. The septic tank that we toiled for hours in the hot equatorial sun to build, was now covered, painted, and polished clean. Overgrown shrubbery sprouting from forgotten cracks in the concrete walls of the school were all but gone, and in their place stood tables, chairs, desks, and books. It was another situation where I had to look twice to be sure, but the school, the half-finished hope and prayer of last year, now had its first students - and in smart looking uniforms no less.

The first students of the school, out of uniform. Over the next month Eric hopes to register an additional 30 students.

“Many of the students commute to Madina or Accra for primary school,” Eric says. “Some travel more than 30 kilometers (20 miles) by public transport. This school is closer and more accessible for everyone.” But as Eric quoted his reasons, once again, for opening the school, all I could do was sit and stare. I hadn’t seen a toilet seat in 11 weeks and now here were 3 of them. I couldn’t find a book in this country and now here were shelves of them (I even read Goodnight Moon for good measure). The classrooms were even outfitted with whiteboards. Whiteboards?! My high school in Berkeley still uses chalk. It was a true sight, a magnificent construct, and an epic transformation from only one year earlier, when the GO team first partnered with SGM.

I had traveled to Ghana explicitly to see the opening of our first school. And in the few weeks I was here I decided to go on some “administrative outings”. One such outing involved an EPA field agent (questionable relation to the US agency of the same name) who needed to sign off on the school’s Environmental Outlook papers. So we set off to Accra in search of this man. About ten minutes out of Madina, we happened to see him sleeping under a tree next to the road during normal business hours (mind you it was 11am on a Monday). So we decided to wake him. At this point the three of us walked to a nearby hospital (luckily there was one!), commandeered a consultation room from one of the resident doctors, and promptly discussed the merits of water runoff and seepage, a topic that in my humble opinion would benefit a road building outfit far more than a rural prmary school on a dirt plot. In the car I was told that the man would charge 100 Cedi (about $80) to look at the school. “You mean for the certificate?” I asked. “No,” Eric replied, “more like if he gets the money he will fill out our forms, if not, he won’t.” I immediately understood. Sleeping under trees and holding 0.5 office hours per week was tough business, so it was better that we subsidized his income for a recommendation letter stating, simply, that our dirt driveway indeed had “Adequate water runoff potential.”

Another such “administrative outing” went as such: For some reason in Ghana, businesses are all named after something religious. There is the “God is Love Hair Salon”, the “Jesus Love Me Forex Bureau”, and the “Forgiveness Communications” office. So it should come as no surprise when we stopped in a small local business center aptly called “Only Believe” to print some education board letters and the like. Upon entering the small shop I was immediately impressed by a modern-looking computer AND a copy machine. Rarely in Africa do you see not one but two modern looking pieces of electronics under the same roof. Yet when asked if we could conduct our printing, the response was simply that the computer was “finished” (a gem of a word used across Africa to refer to something that is broken, missing, or that never worked to begin with). I pointed to the copy machine, at this point not holding my breath. “Also finished,” came the reply. Trying to be clever, I said I must not have believed hard enough. He missed the joke. I suggest this business center scale back on its “Belief” inventory and stock up on some “Holy Toner” and “Jesus Printer Paper”.

Director Eric Annan with his two right-hand men.

But I digress. As far as the other programs GO helps support here in Ghana: the orphan feeding program is looking to expand into more slums, the mango farm is nearly planted, and there is now a child sponsorship program implemented in an attempt at sending the most at-risk students to the Hope International School. Well hope they shall receive. In the coming weeks (official start dates really have no bearing here), Eric hopes to register as many as 60 students, giving the all-too-clean walls and yard a bit of what it really needs: life. The school additionally hopes to contract a bus to pick up those children who live further from the school. But it must draw a fine balance between keeping costs low (currently about 30 Cedi, or $25, per term) and providing additional services. Yet the palm-fringed walls surrounding this oasis provide nothing short of the perfect place for learning outside the aptly named slum of Accra: Sodom and Gomorra.

And so as I look out into these hills, and think about everything this school has become in the past year, everything it symbolizes for GO in terms of our first major project, I realize that I too have come quite a long way. Five-thousand kilometers (3,500 miles) overland across some of the worst roads on earth, 18 days (432 hours) spent in a car or bus, 3,000mg of Ciproflaxin with 1,400mg Imodium (and still the possibility of a tapeworm), running out of cash in 3 countries, 6 books that don’t change no matter how many times you read them, and 83 days in sub-Saharan Africa. But who’s counting?I have to admit it will take some time to readjust to the Western world after traveling for so long. The mere thought of not arguing over an $0.80 overcharge in a taxi scares me. But there will also be benefits. Like our new school, GO too needs time to grow, to cultivate its expanding resources, donors and staff, into a larger and stronger organization. We’ve come a long way in just 2 short years. But then that’s just the beginning.

To pledge additional support for this project, please donate here >

-Kyle Miller

GO By The Numbers

Tue, 01 Sep 2009 09:45:00 -0400

Dear Friends of GO,

With a heavy heart, the GO team must leave the kind and caring communities of East Africa after a wonderful and enlightening trip. After seven weeks on the road, the GO volunteers are returning to their homes. We will never forget our time here, the kindness shown to us by all, and the many lessons we have learned along the way.

On behalf of all us, we would like to thank all of you from the bottom of our hearts for the generous donations, kind words of support, and encouraging letters from home. With your help, we have raised over $8,000 for our projects in Tanzania, Rwanda, and Uganda!! Every cent of these donations will directly to the communities on the ground.

The biggest thanks goes to James Nathaniel, Costa Ndayisabe, and Peter Luswata. They were ours hosts in Tanzania, Rwanda, and Uganda, respectively, and opened their doors and hearts to us. Though the GO volunteers, both on the ground and around the world, make heavy sacrifices to do the work they love, it is individuals like James, Costa, and Peter that keep our passion alive. They give back because they see the suffering of others first-hand and know they can make a difference.

The world needs more people like them and GO is proud to help support and sponsor each of their wonderful projects.

Here is how the money was invested in the communities of Moshi (Tanzania), Muhanga (Rwanda), and Masaka (Uganda):

$2,500 donated to the Tanzanian Children Concern (TCC), GO’s new project partner in Moshi, Tanzania. These funds are already being used to build 4 new classrooms for the TCC’s new school for orphans and vulnerable children. The community and the TCC will fully own the project, giving them ownership and responsibility to provide a better future for themselves. GO would like to thank Mama Hope (www.mamahope.org) for all their leadership and guidance with this project and for their continuing inspirational work in Kenya and Tanzania. We could not have done this with you! To learn more about this project, please read “It Takes A Community” (below)

$3,500 donated to the Unity and Peace Development (UPD), GO’s project partner in Muhanga, Rwanda. These funds were used to build two homes for survivors of the genocide and to facilitate reconciliation classes in the community. To date, GO and the UPD have successfully trained 28 facilitators and are working with 100s of families to reconcile survivors and perpetrators of the genocide. The project of building these homes is owned entirely by the community with all labor being performed by volunteers on the ground. Additional funding will be used to purchase rabbits for children headed households to provide them a source of income, sustainable gardens for vulnerable families, and health insurance for orphans and victimized children. To learn more, please read “Bricks of the Heart” and “Hope and Unity” (below)

$3,000 donated to the Uganda Rural Fund (URF), GO’s project partner in Masaka, Uganda. These funds will be used to provide a local grain mill for URF’s sustainable development farming practices in Masaka, Uganda. Currently, farmers supported by the URF walk over 20 kilometers to mill their grain and are charged for hiring the equipment. With this investment, the farmers will form a cooperative to manage their own grain mill, saving both costs and time. It is expected that over 500 farmers will benefit from this investment every day. To learn more, please read “This is Rural Style” (below)

We would like to sincerely give thanks to our donors, partners, and corporate sponsors for making our new round of projects a brilliant and lasting success. Without your help and support, none of this would have been possible. We look forward to hearing any afterthoughts you may have regarding these project as well as any ideas you may have for future projects.

This blog will continue to be updated through the end of the year by our volunteers and partners on the ground. Please stay tuned!

Yours in Progress,

The GO Team

To pledge additional support for these projects, please donate here >

Thank You Letter From Dorothee

Mon, 31 Aug 2009 00:00:00 -0400

Dorothee is the recipient of GO and Unity and Peace Development’s (UPD) second home in the Muhanga community. As written in other blogs below, Dorothee is a widower from the 1994 genocide and has been without a home for 15 years. Volunteers from GO were fortunate enough to be able to work with the community to help build a new home for Dorothee.

The blogs written below about the experiences of building this home were written by the GO volunteers and offer only a limited insight into the community itself. We are, after all, only observors in the field.

However, thanks to our partner on the ground, we were able to scan a hand written letter from Dorothee to express her thanks to all the supporters and volunteers at GO.

Many thanks to Costa, UPD director, for providing this letter and assisting with the translation.

In Dorothee’s words:

Closing Thoughts

Sun, 30 Aug 2009 00:00:00 -0400

In our first meeting at our project in Tanzania, James Nathaniel (director of Tanzania Children’s Concern) talked about how many children he was helping over a lunch of ugali and beans. During the meeting I wanted to ask why he wanted to help these children. I decided not to ask because if he asked me why I wanted to
help, I would have no response.

Having spent almost two months in Africa, I believe I can guess what James answer would have been. More importantly, his answer helps me to answer my questions about why I went with GO to Tanzania, Rwanda, and Uganda.

Nothing is the same as home here. The people look and sound different, the air smells and feels different and going from point A to point B involves many different steps. And not necessarily in a bad way. While the hawkers in tourist areas are the most stressful of situations, away from those areas the people have always been very warm and welcoming.

I think that James (as well as Costa and Peter) would say something along the lines of, ‘How can I watch my community in a difficult time and not try to help? How can I not spread my love to those who need it?’ In Africa I have seen a sense of community that I have not encountered elsewhere. Each person is tied to one another and they can try to ignore those bonds, but they cannot break them. If any person in their web succeeds or flounders, they all do it together.

I have said at two community meetings, and heard it at a third, that we will try to bring the love and sense of community back to America where it is needed. But I don’t think that these bonds have been broken. We may hide them under SUV’s and white picket fences, but they still exist. I just have not been looking to uncover and embrace those bonds.

I had met Bart a few times before spending every moment of the last 5 weeks with him. Early on he talked a lot about everything happening for a reason and looking for signs. I think that is total crap. Well, I THOUGHT that was total crap. I went on this trip to see what a community was. We have visited so many welcoming families, shaken hundreds of hands and seen first hand people helping each other.

It is a kind of love that I have previously been blind to. I went on this trip to discover that feeling and be able to look for it where ever I am. I am incredibly lucky to have been invited on this trip. And I hope to contribute to GO in one form or another far into the future.

GO volunteers Kyle Miller, Bartlomiej Skorupa, and Ryan Gilpin receive gifts from the community. The real gift of knowing and learning from these communities can never be captured on film, yet it will always reside in their hearts and minds.

Ryan Gilpin

This is Rural Style

Thu, 27 Aug 2009 00:00:00 -0400

“This is farming rural style!”

Thwack!

“This is how we eat rural style!”

Thwack!

“This is what we do best!”

Thwack!

I am watching Peter Luswata hacking off pieces of fresh pineapple as he tells about Ugandan farming practices. Standing in a field of pineapples, all grown locally and organically, I cannot help but notice how closely his machete deftly chops away at the succulent pineapple grasped in his hand.

His stroke is deft, his timing succinct, and the pineapple is bare and ready for eating in less than three minutes. He used nothing more than a machete, a stump of a tree, and his hands. Replace my hand with his, this prep would have taken about seven minutes longer and resulted with three fingers less.

He hands each of this the fruit of his labour (get it?…sorry couldn’t help myself…). Without a doubt, it is the best pineapple we have ever eaten.

Peter knows this area. He knows the people and their needs. He knows the local practices and which crops thrive here and which do not. Armed with not only a passion for his work, Peter spent many yeras working for large international organizations securing funding for his communities. Not only does he know the terrain and the people, he also knows the workings and the behind the scenes string pulling needed to properly invest in it. After impressive stints at various other organizations working on multi-million dollar grants, Peter took off on his own to start the Uganda Rural Fund (URF).

He had a vision. He had a plan. He knew how to help his people. He just needed a small investment to make it happen.

Three years ago, Kyle Miller, director and co-founder of GO, worked with Peter to obtain a $10,000 grant from Morning Glory to start a local farm. The intent was to provide a large outdoor community center that grew and housed various produce and livestock to demonstrate sustainable and organic methods of farming. The farm itself would act as a live demonstrative lab and also as place where farmers could learn from each other.

“We are farmers. This is what we do best. We just need a little help and we can go a long way on our own,” says Peter.

Upon GO’s visit to URF’s farm, I cannot stress how much of an understatement this is about how far these dollars have gone in the community in just three years.

From the original grant, Peter built and invested in the following farming ventures with the local communities’ help:
•    50 odd goats that live in a multi-tiered housing complex
•    4 cows
•    8 pigs
•    10 chickens
•    3 guinea fowl
•    A brick farm house for the workers
•    A sustainable water cooling system powered by rain fall
•    A rock-solid water pump that provides water for over
•    A seed distribution and education system for local farmers to try new crops
•    A meeting area with chairs, tables, and a generator for town hall meetings constructed to hold weekly meetings about top farming issues
•    A village banking cooperative for both men and women groups to provide farming loans
•    Oh, and to all that they also grow tomatoes, peppers, coffee, pineapples, bananas, papaya, sugar cane, cauliflower, cabbage, lettuce, avocados, maize, corn, courgettes, and other various greens

The goat pen houses over 50 goats and was built entirely by local volunteers.

It’s simply astounding how much development has come out of such a small pool of funds. Yet the more Peter describes his work, the more I understand how he could do so much with so little.

Bricks were made by hand with local farmers.

Local communities gave scraps from the table to help the animals grow.

Seed companies donate time and free seeds to encourage development.

The list goes on and on, so let me just put it succinctly: with a small investment, the community is building itself. Not only does this save cost, it also ensures the farm’s validity. A primary focus of this farm is instructing local farmers how to grow various crops and also act as a central point of seed and livestock distribution. The “farm” itself is not really owned by anyone, it is a cooperative of the community.

No one steals from here. No one solitary person gains from this farm. The community is growing and building a better future for themselves. It works because the biggest investment Peter made here was in the hearts and minds of the people.

“People need healthy food to grow and learn. They need this for their families and to sell on the market. The people here just needed a little help. And that’s what we provide,” remarks Peter.

The GO team is proud to provide $3,000 for the URF to house a mill to grind their own seeds.

GO is unspeakably proud to partner with the URF. After meeting with the local farmers, GO and the local community decided to invest $3,000 to build and house grain mill for the crop grown in the area. Currently, the farmers walk up to 20 kilometers carrying their grain and maize on their backs. Not only does this eat up precious time, it also requires the farmers to pay to use mills owned by other businesses. We estimate that at around 500 farmers will use the grain mill every day, stressing the need of the mill. The funds raised by the GO team during their climb of Kilimanjaro are already on the ground and in action for this plan. And, as always, the community itself will run and own the project, build the mill, and handle all the logistics of running the mill.

On the final day of our visit to the URF, Peter organized a meeting with over 100 farmers. The meeting started with a discussion over seed needs for the next year and ended with a distribution of 30 goats to the 30 neediest families.

The GO team was asked to “hand over” the goats to each of the family members. Let me tell you, “handing over a goat” is very easy to write, very difficult to do in person. Goats don’t like to be moved and the first thing you learn is that they kick.

And they kick hard.

So after the first butchery of hand-over that resulted in more bleating, fumbling, scraping, kicking, than any sort of actual movement, I decided to let the community members take over.

After all, they know how to do it best.

Awaiiting a brighter day that they will build for themselves.

- Bartlomiej Jan Skorupa

To pledge additional support for this project, please donate here >

Bricks of the Heart

Wed, 12 Aug 2009 08:42:00 -0400

“If I could only remember that the days were, not bricks to be laid row on row, to be built into a solid house, where one might dwell in safety and peace, but only food for the fires of the heart.” - Edmund Wilson

An effort of labor born within the earth itself, making mud bricks by hand takes dedication. Your tools are functional though rudimentary, being nothing more than water, soil, a shovel, a frame box, and the baking sun. The primary instrument of success really relies in the sweat of your brow and the strength of your heart.

You knead rocky and coarse soil by hand. You pound the brick form with your fists. Your knuckles begin to bleed. Your knees ache from continual kneeling. The back throbs from incessant shoveling. A full African sun bakes the back your neck relentlessly.

And yet, though the process seems agonizingly slow and somewhat painful, you begin to realize its therapeutic affects on the mind. Mud goes in, your fist shapes its structure, the frame lifts, and out slides another brick in the wall. Instant satisfaction for your efforts and a lasting gratification for the community you are building.

I have made ten bricks by hand (with the quality of each brick being highly debatable) and already want a break. A cold drink would also be nice though we far from any sort of electricity. Yet I know I cannot stop. As much as the toil begins to wear me down, I am still being outpaced by boy no cannot be more than seven years old. Working with quiet determination, he keeps feeding my wood box with fresh mud to make more bricks. He says nothing and just keeps walking back from the mud pile to my work station, pouring a thick and sloppy mixture of mud and water.

No one has asked him to do this.

He simply saw us working and decided to help. He is too small to wield a shovel, too short to use a hoe to hack dirt, and too weak to bring water from the well. Yet, like everyone else from the community around us, he knows he can help, even in his own small way. So he keeps feeding me dirt, waddling barefoot from mud-pile to work station, never questioning the monumental significance of his efforts.

Help comes in all shapes and sizes.

The bricks we are making will be used to build Dorothee’s new home. Dorothee is the new recipient of our second home being built in the Muhanga community in Rwanda. Like thousand of other women in Rwanda, she is a widow from the genocide who had her home destroyed during the 1994 genocide. The home is not only a basis for the community and family, it is also an integral part of Rwandan culture. Lacking a home, a person cannot live a full life, receives little respect in the community, and begins to lose hope. The home is the foundation of a stable and growing society, hence its importance in the One Thousand Hills project.

This housing project is managed on the ground by GO’s project partner, the Unity for Peace Development (UPD). The UPD assists the community with planning and managing the construction while the people of Muhanga are fully responsible for democratically selecting the neediest recipients, building the homes, and working together in unity and harmony. No one in the community gets paid for their work; their wage is simply the belief that they are toiling to build a brighter future for their lives.

The ramification and impact of this community based approach are multifold. From a Western perspective, perhaps the first noticed benefit is the cost savings. This is true and worthy of acknowledgment. With funds raised from the GO Team’s Kilimanjaro climb and previous donations, we have donated $4,000 to the UPD for this project and they are already building a second home.

It is also important to note that these homes will not be mud brick shacks and will be proper houses with multiple rooms. Though part of the structure is indeed composed of mud bricks, it will be subsequently adorned with doors, windows, and solidified with a proper cement structure. Each home will then have four rooms, allowing the vulnerable widow of the community to open her doors to those who have helped her rebuild her life. All this for less about $2,000 per home.

Yet the cost impact is, in my mind, really a small benefit of this community based approached. One needs to realize that the communities of Rwanda were torn apart by the genocide only fifteen years ago. Such a horrific event cannot be simply overcome by financial investment and cost benefit analysis.

The entire concept of a community has to be rebuilt, brick by brick, heart by heart. By combining the housing projects with proven reconciliation practices, the UPD ensures the toil performed by the community builds not only the physical structure of the home but also the much more meaningful, and fragile, concept of the community. The house itself is indeed a wonderful end result yet the communal progression to create it is so much more important. The people of Muhanga do this work with their hands, with each mud brick helping not only to build a home but also to rebuild their hearts and minds.

Rebuilding his community and building a brighter day. One brick at a time.

As each block is formed, it is then left in the baking sun to dry. The molecules within the soil bond and harden, forming a resilient structure that can be used to construct a better future.

As I look around me, I see about 30 people from Muhanga working under this same baking sun, all pitching in where they can. Ranging from the seven years to seventy, men and women once separated by thoughtless hatred are working side by side. Overcoming profound loss and violence, they are now silently rebuilding their community, brick by brick, heart by heart.

The bonds of their community have never been stronger.

As I think about this, the mud pile next to me grows quickly. The boy is not taking a break. Even at his young age, he already knows the true meaning of selfless giving. Small of hand, young of age, his heart and determination are greater than I can possibly imagine. He will not give up.

Tired no longer, I begin to pound another brick.

GO would like to thank the UPD for their inspiring and incredible work in the Muhanga community. The love and support of their people serve as a true reminder about selfless giving and that proves that no matter how dark our past may be, a bright future can be built.

To pledge additional support for this project, please donate here >

- Bartlomiej Jan Skorupa

Rwanda Is You and Me

Tue, 04 Aug 2009 05:39:23 -0400

A few days ago the GO team was having lunch in Muhanga. Costa (our host) gets up before the food arrives and wanders off. He shows up as we are finishing our food and sends his food back for something else. When that comes out he tastes it, tells them it is no good, and orders something not on the menu. That comes out and he starts eating, and we tell him that we are already late for our meeting with the mayor. When he finishes eating we walk to the mayor’s office, about 45 minutes late. Bart mentions on the walk over to the mayor’s office that it was “kind of a rock star move.” After thinking about it, Costa is absolutely a Rwandan rock star. Here are five illustrations of Costa’s rock starness.

Costa and Bernadette Ndayisabye celebrating the graduation.

1. I am sitting in Costas living room, having never met him, but he invited us over to a graduation party at his house. Family members slowly trickle in and reassure us that Costa will arrive soon. We are shocked when Costa walks in wearing a cap and gown. Thirty family and friends sit in a circle feasting in the yard using various levels of English to converse with us. Costa tells stories in 3 different languages, translates many things for us and cannot stop smiling.

2. During a ten o’clock dinner, Costa tells us that he spent the day checking up on a recently placed orphan two hours away. The orphan has been put into a family as a week trial before Costa asks if they like the family. The orphan approves of the family, but Costa must be at the office at 8 clock the next morning (leaving at 5 AM) to get a stamp so that the adoption can be official.

Costa drawing thank you cards with the children of Muhanga.

3. While Eve and Denise tried to teach me how to do laundry and speak Kinrwandan (I cannot say chicken or get shoes clean), I learn that Costa’s wife is their older sister. They watched their mother be murdered in the genocide in 1994 while hiding above the ceiling. Two orphans live with the family, children of those who murdered the family’s parents. Costa met the orphans and upon noticing their struggles asked them to join the family in Kigali.

4. I wake up early, and Costa is frantically tying his shoes. He explains that his friend’s child is very sick and to tell everyone he would meet us later. Costa rides the kid to the hospital on the back of a bicycle. Then, he gets in an argument with the mother who is convinced that he is cursed, not sick. After the positive TB X-ray Costa convinces the doctors not to let the child leave until he is healthy. On the way home he calls a friend to go to the hospital and stand guard.

All participants after a Sunday afternoon Football match.

5. Costa convinces a friend who owns a mini-bus to drive for a family outing to a genocide memorial. Nineteen people fill the minibus; many have never been to this memorial and had families killed in the genocide. After many tears and emotional moments we pile back into the bus and drive to a soccer game. Bart, Costa, Kyle and I are thrown into the action and at the end Costa brings out 1300 pens, a trophy and a soccer ball for the kids.

Early in our friendship with Costa, he said that he was not the best man in Rwanda. I told him a few days ago that I have not met very many Rwandans, but it will take a lot to convince me otherwise. I find it hard to not support people doing amazing things for their community.

-Ryan Gilpin

Hope and Unity

Mon, 03 Aug 2009 11:26:00 -0400

“We also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perserverance, character; and character, hope - and hope does not dissapoint us.” - Romans 5:3-5

The above picture is a wonderful example of hope against all odds, depicting a story of unspeakable violence over-shadowed by the even stronger sentiment of love and forgiveness. Capturing a thousand words in its frame, the photo serves a reminder of the greatness of humanity when we come together in the spirit of compassion, even in our most trying hour.

These are the words that tell that story.

In 1994, Rwanda suffered a horrendous genocide that killed over 1 million people in less than three months. The violence ripped the fabric of the people and their beautiful, giving nature.

Jeanne (green dress, back row, 5th from the right) and Bosco (in the hat on the far right) both intimately experienced this atrocity first hand. During the dark rage of genocide, Bosco killed Jeanne’s husband, tearing her life apart. Once married and with a home, she was left as homeless vulnerable widow after the genocide. So were nearly a million others.

In 2009, Rwanda is once again peaceful and her inner beauty has once again arisen to the surface. As our team travels and works in this gorgeous and hilly environment, we cannot help but notice the kind and lovely nature of the people. From strangers on the street to our partners in work, we are always greeted with bright eyes and huge smiles.

As I literally wrote that sentence on my mini-bus, I reached for my water bottle, finding it disappointingly empty. My fellow Rwandan neighbor, humming a native tune on his MP3 enclosed ears, noticed this movement and immediately opened his water bottle.

He handed it over and I saw it was nearly empty.

I politely refused yet he was adamant.

I drank and he smiled, all the while listening and humming his tune.

Nothing like this would happen in the West. We could only be so lucky to learn half of Rwandan’s graciousness.

Yet I digress.

Late on a beautiful and wanton July day, our team headed towards the community of Muhanga for the opening ceremony of Jeanne’s home. Built with funding from our donors earlier this year, we were here to firsthand witness the unveiling of her new home. We thought it would be a formal affair of hand-shakes, smiles, and other minutiae of goodwill.

We deeply underestimated what was about to occur.

As our team trudged up a dirt trail surrounded in the lush green surroundings of the outskirts of Muhanga, melodic drum music fused with the innocent sounds of singing children filtered through the air. Growing in volume, we came to see the entire community present, singing a delightful song of welcome.

Children danced and laughed.

Smiling women with infinite experiences trapped in their eyes clasped our hands.

Time froze in perfection and joy.

I simply lack the skill to explain this moment’s beauty; only knowing that this unending instance of joy will be forever etched in my mind.

As the sun began to bleed back into the country, we sat ourselves in wooden chairs in front of the home. The villagers sat themselves in the grass, surrounding us in the warmth of their community. The community leaders then thanked us and explained the admirable and praiseworthy story of this home.

With our funds, our partner organization on the ground, the Unity for Peace Development (UPD) allowed the people to decide which member of the community was the most vulnerable and deserving of a new home. In an open and democratic dialogue, settled by a silent vote, Jeanne was selected as the recipient of this wonderful gift.

Then the community drove the project themselves to build the home together. Men and women of all ages made mud bricks from the land. Their labor and sweat was done at no cost. The only expenditures of the project were spent on fixtures (doors, windows, etc), cement for the frame, and delivery costs.

The community built the rest.

Perpetrators and survivors of the genocide, side by side, toiled together in the dark soil to bring a bright new future for their community, one home at a time.

This alone is enough to bring testimony to the fact that we, as humans, can heal and rebuild ourselves, even in our weakest hour. Yet there lies another fact that emphasizes the dedication and unbelievable strength of the Rwandan people.

The architect and developer of the home is Bosco, the same man who murdered Jeanne’s husband during the genocide.

Working together, he and Jeanne designed her new home, meager in its appearance yet unbelievably rich in its significance. Assisted by reconciliation practices implemented by the UPD, they are now reunited after their horrific past.

They are building their own future.

Together.

As we sat listening to these stories in the fading twilight, the beauty of this community settled in our hearts. Though owning virtually nothing themselves, they offered us wonderful gifts as tokens of their appreciation and love. Bright red and rich brown baskets woven by the women of the village were given to our team. They will be among our prized possessions from this trip We professed our unending thanks on behalf of all supporters of GO, declaring that no experience in our lives touched us so deeply.

The people cheered and another wonderful dance followed to close the ceremony. We watched a spectacle of such pure and selfless beauty that we felt like 5 year olds at the circus.

Eyes full of wonder, hearts full of joy, our thoughts passed faster than we could ever comprehend them. The younger women of the village dressed in brilliant blues danced while one younger man adroitly flashed a decorative spear.

At the end of the ceremony, we were all invited into Jeanne’s new home. Home-made sorghum beer and Coca-Colas were given to all the guests. We took our seats against the walls, separated by language yet united in feeling. Sipping the raw and pleasantly bitter brew, I watched the faces in the darkening room.

I looked from the left to right, the span of time untying our past.

In 1994, some were killers, some were victims.

Fifteen years later they sit here reunited and are working towards a better future. The kind and loving nature of the Rwandan people serve as a great reminder to all people that healing and reconciliation is possible. With determination, strength, and the capability of communities working together, Rwanda is rebuilding herself to become once again one of the world’s great nations.

We in the West could learn so much from their kind and giving culture.

- Bartlomiej Jan Skorupa

On The Road

Sat, 25 Jul 2009 14:38:00 -0400

“Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life. - Jack Kerouac.

The following story is a true account of the GO team’s travel from Moshi, Tanzania to Kigali, Rwanda. As the volunteers pay for all their own travel, they resort to the cheapest over-land routes. This mode of travel is not recommended for nor endorsed for any travelers.

You awake bleary eyed to the darkness that is 5am. With no light available in your cheap hotel, you put on your head torch to dress. Wading through the darkened room, you stuff a few remaining items into your pack and head out the door.

It’s traveling day.

You enter the streets with 20 kilos on your back and 10 on your front to see it’s finely misting rain. No taxis out. Not at this time of the morning. Wonderful thing for your fever.

You start your long walk to the bus station. As you approach the station, men step up hustling their buses.

“My friend, my friend, where you go?”

“My brotha, Dar? Nairobi? Where ya headin?”

You have no brothers or friends here so you push through silently, quick enough not to attract attention and gently enough not to be overtly rude. You find your bus and hand your bags to a porter, all the while watching to ensure they make it on the bus.

You tip him nicely top ensure the bags stay there. Entering the bus, you find your seat. Not enough room for the legs. Not enough room for your shoulders. Not your size. At least it’s only 12 hours on this leg.

You close your eyes and drift back to a numb sleep with no dreams. Just haze.

It’s dry season and hot. The entire bus is filled with a fine mist of dust and you cough continuously. There is no tarmac on these roads and any truck that passes wheezes a fresh cloud of dust through windows that will not close. You hold a book of blurry, jumping words. The bumps make it impossible to read. The blank stark void of the much touted television stares at you mockingly. So you stare out the window for endless periods of time.

Cake like brown mud huts zip by.

Smiling children wave at every juncture.

Men on bicycles ride to nowhere.

The dust covers everything yet the colors of this continent refuse to be dimmed: bright green sandals on earth black feet, banana yellow saloons, oceanic blue scarves, fiery red Coca-Cola signs (everywhere), lush green baobabs, dark skin, and tired black eyes fill the zooming back-drop of your life.

You relax.

You close your eyes.

POW

Eyes flash open. Heart stops beating. The bus goes hard left then hard right. Time slows. The road is not in front of you. A man rises and helps the bus driver grab the the wheel.

It’s happening so quick and yet so slow.

The bus veers.

And then stops. You see the drop off to the right side of the bus. An inch more and that could have been it. Now it’s a flat tire in the middle of nowhere.

Everyone gets off the bus into the beating sun. The repair process starts and you sit in the grass.

You wait.

And wait.

The tire is changed and off you go. Though slower. No spare tire now and the bus driver seems shaken into a state of driving sanity.More cities, more dust, and more bumps. Dusk crawls in and the sun fades out. The dust stays.

So does the fatigue.

At 10pm, after 17 hours of travel, the bus pulls in and gives one final shudder and then humbly stops. Your body is still shaking as you get off. Everything around you is dark and you look at your map.

You see only you are only halfway to your destination. You close your map and then your eyes.

You just wish this was over.

Part II

Men at the bus stop selling a day’s meal to weary travelers.

You awake again at 04:30am. Your new bus looks at you like a gaunt skeleton. All the features that you scoffed on yesterday’s bus now seem like heaven. Nothing on this bus seems safe. Not the rickety frame. Not the marred windows. And definitely not your seat, which is tied by a rope to the ceiling.

You sit and the bus moves. 15 minutes later it stops at a body of water and you are told to get on a boat. You did not expect this at all. You board a ferry. To your amazement, the bus follows you on the boat.

The sun rises in its morning glory and everything seems calm. The breeze off the water beckons that this will be a better day.

The boat trip is short and you are back on the bus, this time leaving the ship together. Off the boat, the reality of now becomes radically apparent.

The bus moves everywhere. The wheels move, the bus moves, the seats move, everything is shifting on it. You hold onto a metal bar and a rope to keep you from flying out. Bumps hit so hard that you knock heads with your neighbors. Dust flies in uncontrollably. The three seats in front of you fall off their frame. You are now supporting those three seats (holding their six passengers) using your knees.

This goes on for ten hours.

This is hell.

Finally it stops.

The bus promises you that it left you you close to the border. You hitch a ride for way too much money and find yourself going back the way you came. You end up crossing the border on foot, carrying the dust from one country to another on your back.

You are passed tired. You have not eaten a solid meal in the past 24 hours. You simply do not care what happens. A hustler approaches with a ride to the capital. You nod and board his mini-bus. Everyone looks at your filthy bag and your mud orange face. You see yourself in the rear view mirror and you like a bad tanning commercial.

After three hours you arrive in the capital. You are here, 38 hours and 1,500 kilometers later, you finally arrive at your destination.

You find a hotel with a beautiful shower. You can barely keep your eyes open. You know this shower will be heaven.

You cannot wait for its cleansing promise.

You turn the knob. No water comes.

Your head hits the wall and your eyes shut. You wonder why you are here. Why are you doing this? You are thousands of miles away from home. Away from friends and family. Away from security. You left so much behind that the immediacey of now is unbearable.

And then you think of all those who will never have this chance. A chance to rise above the trifle burdens of self. A chance to help others. You should know this.

You take a breath and put on your dirty clothes. You walk out to find a bucket of water, leaving a trail of your dusty memories behind you.

In front of you lies a better day.

You know it.

The sun of a new day rises over Lake Victoria.

- Bartlomiej Jan Skorupa

It Takes A Community

Sat, 25 Jul 2009 10:40:00 -0400

“We had the vision, but without the resources it just sits in a chair.”
- James Nathaniel, co-founder of Tanzanian Children Concern.

“Teacher, do you know Chuck Norris?” asks Salim.

“Yes. I know him well,” I respond.

“Really?” says Salim.

“Of course. Do you know that he does not sleep?” I respond.

“No, Teacher. I do not know this,” says Salim.

“Yes, he does not sleep. He only waits,” I answer.

Salim seems to consider this point for a moment, forlornly sticking a finger in his mouth. He looks at me with a curious and a quizzical glance, as if pondering what other nugget of Americana he can derive from me.

“Teacher, do you know American Ninja?” asks Salim sheepishly.

“You mean Michael Dudikoff???” I respond, surprised at both the question and the fact that I actually know the answer is a C-list movie star from the mid 1980s.

Salim leans towards me and pulls my arm to bring me closer and whispers, “Yes. Him. He is better than Chuck Norris.”

I laugh out loud. Disagreeing completely, I am about to start my diatribe against this kung fu heresy, though the lunch bell rings and Salim runs with the rest of the children to get their lunch meal, leaving me to ponder the influential crap America sends out to the furthest reaches of the Earth.

Salim is one of the many children that attends the current Saint Timothy’s School just outside Moshi, Tanzania. Located in a lush and vivid green environment at the base of Mount Kilimanjaro, the school is an idyllic oasis of peace and learning. After the success of our climb, the GO team is here to visit the school to provide financial support to help build a much larger educational facility to expand the wonderful work of the Tanzanian Children’s Concern.

Founding teacher James Nathaniel displays his passion for his work.

Saint Timothy’s school is operated by the Tanzanian Children’s Concern. Founded in 2003 by a small group of concerned teachers, TCC has since been devoted to addressing the needs of local children and families made vulnerable by the AIDS pandemic. There are currently almost 2 million AIDS orphans in Tanzania, and this number is expected to more than double by the year 2010 (UNAIDS, 2006). Local, grass roots organizations such as TCC are committed to bringing a lasting impact to their community in a unique fashion.

What makes the Saint Timothy School project truly unique, however, is in the core idea of allowing the community to own the project itself. With financial support from Mama Hope (www.mamahope.org) and GO, the entire community is taking responsibility for the inception and construction of the school and subsequent health care facility. Working with all local architects, builders, village leaders, and project managers, the entire community will assist in bringing this project to fruition. Not only does this method save on project costs, it also builds a sense of responsibility and cohesion in the community.

The TCC is now seeking to greatly expand its teaching facilities and also to own the building where the children learn their instructions. This is a vital component of the project, in that ownership of the land and the school building itself will allow Saint Timothy’s School to register as an official educational institution. Lacking registration, the school and the TCC currently jump through legal and financial hurdles to ensure that their students’ educations are officially recognized by Tanzanian standards. Additionally, the new building will be of much greater size and will greatly expand their abilities to assist the orphans and at risk children of the greater Moshi area.

Kyle Miller and Ryan Gilpin look over the plan designed by the community.

The communities on the ground own this project and are responsible for making it a success with GO’s financial donations being our only contribution. They have, after all, over 1000 years of experience in this area. They know who provides the toughest pipes, who builds the most solid bricks, and who can provide these at the best prices. They know the legal requirements to be filled out and what it takes to ensure a bright future for the children of Moshi. With little outside support, the TCC already successfully hires out their own building and instructs 100s of local children

They do this on their own accord.

They do this because they can.

And they do this because they know it will build and nurture a strong community, one that thrives on its own given a solid investment of faith and effort.

As such, the GO team is proud to give an initial donation of $2,500 raised from their climb of Kilimanjaro to this effort. This will provide enough funds for the community to build 10 classrooms and bring the new Saint Timothy’s School one step closer to fruition.

Salim will be there for the opening, as will I. With a bit of luck, our next conversation will revolve around the merits of Chinua Achebe against those of Charles Dickens.

In my heart, I look forward to this day, knowing the seed of knowledge has already been planted.

Salim Awaits a Brighter Day

To pledge additional support for this project, please donate here >

- Bartlomiej Jan Skorupa

Ascending Mt. Kilimanjaro

Fri, 24 Jul 2009 11:04:00 -0400

View of Mt. Kilimanjaro from the airplane.

I managed to sneak into a trip up the tallest mountain in Africa as a fund/awareness raising venture for GO. We set off on an exciting-white knuckle bus ride early in the morning. Our bus was packed with porters, which we thought were for several groups. No. Team Kilimanjaro supplied us with 16 porters, a waiter, a cook, and 2 guides. Which seems a bit excessive. But we were supporting the local economy I suppose. Every male in Moshi that we spoke with had been a porter at some point. We trekked up the Rongai Route and day one was very easy. At the end of day one, we picked up a porter’s bag; while we would carry them, it is hard to imagine carrying it all the way up to the last camp. The porters carried a backpack of their personal kit and a bag on their head which could not weigh more than 20kg. The cooking on the trip was incredible. The porters erected a mess hall for us at every camp with a table, chairs, and a 3 course meal. I felt like a general at war a few hundred years ago. The guides taught us 2 new card games which we would play with them every night.

Kyle, Ryan and Jonas, guide extrodenaire, taking a breather.

Day two was also fairly easy, and we were started to get into the groove of walking and hanging out at camp. Getting acclimated mostly involves going much slower than you want to, but it was nice to take our time. By the end of the second day, we were above the cloud layer and would wake up to watch the sun rise over the clouds.

Kyle looking down on the clouds.

On day three, we decided to change our itinerary and made it a longer day. We climbed up a ridge and then back down to the same elevation on the other side of the mountain. Doing a big day three allowed us to finish our 1000m ascent on day four before lunch. We napped for the rest of day 4 and woke up at 11PM for summit night.

Team GO and Team Kilimanjaro at the summit of Uhuru, tallest point in Africa.

At about mid-night we set out for the summit. We rapidly passed most of the others who set out a little before us. There was one group whose guides sang songs in Swahili; I really enjoyed walking near them. After about half the way up, we started moving very slowly. Bart and I were drunk from the lack of oxygen, and Kyle felt nauseous. All of our water froze; so, we were probably quite dehydrated as well. We summited, snapped a couple of pictures, and started down. Kyle vomited on the way down, and I was very dizzy until we decended a few hundred meters. It is crazy how elevation effects different people.

Mt. Kilimanjaro casts a large shadow on Mt. Meru. While the glacier is impressive, we did not set foot on snow for the climb.

It took us two days to reach the bottom. Now we can focus on recovering and helping the school construction in Moshi.

-Ryan Gilpin

A New Summit

Fri, 10 Jul 2009 11:04:00 -0400

The GO team returns to East Africa to begin a new series of projects in Rwanda, Tanzania, and Uganda. See what the team is planning to help bring their unique mix of personally involved donors and community led micro development to the attention of the world.

- Groundwork Opportunities