Leaving Kigali

I left Kigali on the 2nd of September and finally arrived in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, late on Saturday night. It was a long, arduous, entertaining, bonding, frustrating and in turns comfortable and uncomfortable bus ride. All went smoothly up until Moshi where we endured a four and a half hour delay due to a customs swoop. Everything was taken off and put back on the bus- twice. A large amount of 'luggages' were left behind to be claimed, taxed and then transported onward at a later date. I did my best to use the experience as an opportunity to cultivate patience and enjoyed engaging with fellow passangers. I was repeatedly asked, "Georgina, how are you...how you like Tanzania?" It was an unfortunate introduction to a beautiful country and its friendly people. Touchingly, several of my fellow passangers apologised and wished me better times ahead in their country. There was next to no internet access on route and it was actually wonderful to have a break from 'checking my email'.

Now I'm in Zanzibar for the lasts days of my trip: soaking up its ancient history, the sea breeze and happy to be alone.

My last week of teaching was a burn-the-candle-at-both-ends emotional roller coaster of experiences: focussed teaching, hugs, kisses and occasionally tearful goodbyes, leaving drinks and a party, gift giving and concerted efforts to manage the knot of sadness in my stomach that kept taking me by surprise. Needless to say, there was not a moment to spare for blogging.

Now I have precious little time remaining so have decided to hold up and write a reflective closing blog when I get back to London. Time and space is needed for my whole being to savour these last few moments in Africa.

Thanks for following my journey so far and please check my blog again in a week or so to read a rendition of my final reflections.

Amafaranga (money) and Yoga

Money for Yoga - Yoga for Money

A few weeks ago I taught an extended yoga class at Heaven- an outdoor café in my neighbourhood, Kiouvu, with a beautiful view overlooking the city. I had wanted to do a 108 Sun Salutations event, like the one I did in London that raised money for this trip. The Kigali yoga community was not ready for that so I taught a Yin-Yang yoga session instead: the first of its kind in this city.

The event came about because several people who come to my weekly class at the US Embassy had asked if I could teach on Saturdays. Also, previous We-actx yoga volunteers had been in conversation with the venue about starting up classes. Not wanting to commit to a weekly class, I approached the manager at Heaven Café, Sara, to discuss the possibility of the venue hosting an extended yoga class every few weeks to raise funds for We-actx yoga. She agreed. We set a date, fixed the price and put the word out; hoping people would sign up.

In discussions about pricing the event, Sara had said there might be resistance if the price was too high, people being used to things being a little cheaper. There were mutterings in the yoga community, which at the moment is pretty much made up of expatriate NGO employees, that the price of RF10,000 (approx $18 or £10) was too high. I stuck to my guns, kept putting the word out and waited to see what would happen.

20 odd people signed up and 15 came along, including a few We-actx volunteers. The event was a success. It was a pleasure to teach and those who attended felt unquantifiably better in body and mind and said they would most definitely attend future yoga fundraising events. We raised RF120, 000 (approx $200). Another session was scheduled for mid August and I hope future teachers will keep this modest income generating event going.

I have also been asked several times by Rwandans (outside of We-actx’s remit) where they can go to learn yoga. At RF5, 000, the weekly class I teach at the US Embassy is too expensive for lower waged folk. I’m looking into where I might be able to teach a regular class, at an affordable price for the less well off Rwandan public in Kigali. In spite of the scepticism I have encountered in relation to yoga now and again (yoga being un-Christian, aligned to sorcery etc.), there does seem to be a growing interest. Daddy, owner of Torero Cafe in Kigali is thinking about hosting a free taster sessions in the back room of the venue. There is not much time for this opportunity to come to fruition but its good to at least plant the seed. Much like yoga volunteers did at Heaven.

I have been thinking a lot about money in relation to yoga as professional work and my expectations around both. This is obviously a big and complex subject which at ground level is affecting my voluntary experience in ways that make me want to review my work values, expectations of payment and money in relation to yoga.

On the one hand, I have experienced expats shying away from paying what I would consider to be a fair price for a yoga class they would have to pay a lot more for at home. Wanting to pay a teacher RF5, 000 (approx, $9.00, £5.50 or €6.32) for a one hour private one-to-one session seems untenable. Even though Kigali is one of the most expensive African cities - food and rent are not at all cheap - expats generally earn a handsome wage and have a comfortable lifestyle to compensate for living so far away from home. A smoothie in Bourbon café (the Starbucks equivalent in Kigali), will set you back RF3, 500 (£3.50). It’s a bit pricey, but those who can happily pay for the pleasure and the convenience do.

As a yoga volunteer, I am here to give free yoga classes to We-actx service users: HIV+ genocide rape survivors and their children and the medical/administrative staff. The former have very little income and the latter are better off but on the whole earn much less than the average expat. I teach them all willingly and with a real sense of joy. When I teach yoga to the relatively wealthy expatriate western community, I find I have an expectation of payment aligned to my skills and training. So, although I also teach my expat clientele with a sense of joy, I have found myself on occassion challenged around the issue of payment and needing to renegotiate fees. Here I meet the thorny issue of yoga and money head on.

Yoga texts such as the Bhagavad Gita, advise us to think not of the fruits of our labour and to give from the heart with love, in the spirit of true Karma yoga. This seems effortless when teaching We-actx service users and staff but more challenging when teaching people who I perceive to be relatively wealthy. Why is this? My shifting sense of alignment, identification, ego, self worth, social values and self-awareness all interplay in an ongoing negotiation I have with myself and others here, each and every working day.

Money's to Tight to Mention.

Now, on the other hand, I have had numerous experiences of being asked for money by Rwandans - sick and disabled beggars on the street, children and people who are obviously not completely badly off but have much less me – who they see as a bottomless pursed ‘muzungu’ (foreigner / white person). I have many reactions and responses depending on numerous things. How much change I have, how much time I have and how present and open I am in the moment of engagement. I tend to give a few coins to children and beggars when I have change. But with opportunistic beggars, trying their hand at getting money out of a tourist/ expat, I can feel more defensive: not all people who come from the west are rich. I do not have endless resources. I am not a bank! Even though I am better off than many here. I have been asked for hard cash, clothes and books from people some of whom I know and am working with. It’s difficult to have to say no so often. But at home in London, I can find myself shutting off.

I have passed beggars by with hardly a glance. Heartlessly rejecting their encounter, preoccupied by an internal dialogue I cannot bring into the brief moment of engagement. Sometimes I connect, chat, laugh and am persuaded or feel inclined to give. At other times I simply want to enjoy meeting someone on the street without money being involved. I don’t want to feel I am buying a moment of human interaction. I don’t want to feel that the main reason people talk to me when I’m out on the street or want to befriend me is that they need or want money. But maybe it sometimes is.

Of course I have been stung a few times, paying over the odds for this and that. It happens. Soon after I got here, I asked a small favour of someone and, not yet knowing the relative value of money, over tipped wildly. I saw the look of surprise on her face and noted the split second of hesitation before she quickly took the money out of my hand before I caught on. I had not intended to give so much and felt I had been inadvertently stung (or stung myself!). On reflection, if the tables were turned, I’m sure I would probably have done the same myself and in the scheme of things it was not a huge amount of money. But there is so much more to it than money. There is the much larger personal and social context at play.

Yet another angle is the positions of NGO organisations that engage many volunteers to carry out their vital work. The days of volunteers receiving expenses (minimal) for their services are, on the whole, long gone. These days it seems to be the norm to pay to be a volunteer. Not only for travel, board and lodging costs but also a fee for the opportunity to gain experience through voluntary service. The problem with this situation is that it tends to favour those who have the financial resources (or access to people with financial resources) to pay for voluntary experience. Though of course one can always fundraise - where there is a will there is a way. Many thanks to all those who contributed to my Rwanda fund that paid for me to be here having this very life changing voluntary work experience. Discussing this over dinner this evening, all sorts of things came up: for some, the idea that volunteer work is essential for their feeling of humanity; that organisations with a high volunteer turnover are loosing people because they take them for granted, while those organisations that invest in valuing their volunteers (not necessarily through financial remuneration but sheer appreciation) enjoy joyful and dedicated service; that long term involvement in voluntary work can lead to the unhealthy belief that, in general (i.e. outside of voluntary work), it is ok to remain unpaid for services rendered over and above ones job or one is unwilling or reluctant to have to enter into negotiation to get a reasonable wage, etc.

It’s all very interesting and challenging. I mull over the knowledge that the privileges many of us enjoy in the West are often built on, cause and perpetuate poverty in other parts of the world, both currently and historically. Yet I can’t say I am not happy that my mother moved to England from Nigeria to join my father when I was almost five years old. I would have had a very different life had we stayed in Lagos. Not that I would have been more or less happy, but I would most probably have had far fewer opportunities and been raised in a much, much less materially comfortable environment.

What is it that makes expats (myself included) want to pay less? Is it just because we are in Africa and Westerners have come to expect things in Africa to be cheap (er)? Perhaps it’s something to do with our perception of Africa and Africans that are filtered though distorting lenses of colonial and postcolonial histories? Or maybe it’s that some of us know what things should cost and pride ourselves in paying the ‘right’ price – not the ‘muzungu’ price. Yet muzungu prices are an inherent part of the tourist economy, which is desirable and nationally promoted. Conversely, do people who are poor really think that everyone from the west is rich? I imagine some do and some don’t. I have an inkling that, for a good number of years, I believed all white people were rich because my father was wealthy enough to take us away from the poverty we lived in in Lagos and bring us to a relatively luxurious life in London. (Our home was in fact a modest lower middle class household). It’s a matter of perspective, experience and education among other things. And, dealing with this at ground level is not easy but a necessary part of daily life not just here in Kigali.

It is possible to be on either sides of the equation at different times. Is it possible to move beyond a binary equation and look at things more in terms of relationship? It is all so complex. We are all so fluid. Some of us are oppressors; some of us are the oppressed. Roles are reversed in different contexts. Sometimes we are so open and trusting and want to give the shirt of our back while at other times we are so mean - caught up in our own selfish desires and needs, with not a thought for the suffering of others. Then there are times when we are grounded, present and able to move from the heart and embrace others with loving kindness - here in lies the purpose for my pursuit of yoga.

There was something poetic about my fundraising experience of teaching westerners yoga and donating the proceeds to women genocide survivors and their children. We are all linked by the practice of yoga. Different kinds of resources are enlivened, redistributed, exchanged and pooled. Numerous connections and relationships are made. Women who would never practice yoga learn and become adept - availing themselves of the immeasurable healing tools that yoga has to offer. I hope some in time will become teachers themselves. Genocide rape survivors who the west forgot can perhaps feel support and care from those who rejected them. Their lives in turn give testimony to the resilience of the human spirit and our collective ability to reunite: to return to love, regain hope and delight in laughter while moving and maneuvering with patience, acceptance and dignified humility beyond hatred towards some kind of peace and forgiveness.

Meeting the WE-ACTx Women and Children

Ineza Sewing Co-operative
Wednesday 11th June 2009

WE-ACTx has set up various projects and collaborates with various partner organizations to offer medical treatment, care and support for those living with HIV. Staff and service users of many the projects are offered free yoga classes by WE-ACTx Yoga a branch of the parent company. Ineza is an income generating in-house sewing and crafts co-operative set up by WE-ACTx in 2007 to make crafts and cloths for sale on the international market.

This is the longest standing yoga group that WE-ACTx Yoga support and has been running twice a week for two years. The women of the group are very familiar with the Astanga Yoga Primary Series and happily our stammering Kinyarwanda and tell us how to talk through the movements we are demonstrating. We teach yoga and we are taught Kinyarwanda. There are 25 women in the co-op. I have met about half of them. It is not always the same group present every week but there is hard core that are regularly there, ready and willing to get on their mats. A couple of the women have injuries that prohibit them from doing Astanga so a gentler style of Hatha yoga is necessary. Its wonderful to see that, in spite of the horrific experiences they have been through, the Ineza women have a high degree of body awareness and are not afraid to say if they don’t want to practice, they are tired, I’m going too fast or they have had enough.

Relaxation, Savasana - Corps Pose - seems to be the favourite time. It is perhaps the most healing time but also potentially the most risky time. All the women are genocide survivors and some of them were in churches, feigning death, as their kinfolk were hacked to pieces around them. Hanna and I have been warned never to take photos at this time as it can trigger PTSD flashbacks although gladly, we were informed, there haven’t been any for over a year. In the case of flashbacks, we have been instructed to stand back and let the women deal with the situation. They have learnt how to group round anyone who has been jolted back in time to horrific and terrifying events that are then relived as if occurring in real-time. The women know how to cope and do what needs to be done to help each other return to a place of safety. Never take photos in Savasana.

There is a photography issue in general. Volunteers are not permitted to take photos of anyone on any of the programmes unless we seek approval first. The Rwanda guide book advises to request permission when wanting to take photos of people, their shops stalls etc. So, posted photos are taken on routes too projects or looking out from project venues etc. Until i get some photo release forms signed. Under no circumstances are people to photograph any military presence or activity including soldiers or guards with guns, who I see often around town.

Nyabugogo

This is a relatively new group in the busy market district of Nyabugogo. The group has only had a few classes with Gail, the previous yoga volunteer. Many women come to see, speak with and be around their trauma counselor, Alice, and the feeling of health and healing that emanates from being together for the yoga. We practice on large reed mats, laid out to overlap each other and cover a large dusty floor. This is to accommodate the 5 or 25 women who may want to practice yoga while others sit on long benches against the walls and watch. We don’t have so many regular yoga mats so having a sticky mat each, although preferable, is not possible just now. We rely on people bringing a few with them when they arrive or leaving their behind when they go.

With this group, we are slowly building up the foundations of breath, body awareness and alignment, together with the strength and flexibility required to sustain the continuous flow of standing poses that make up the Astanga sequence. For now, we focus on warm up asana (poses) leading to few slow rounds of Sun Salutation A. We then do a few standing poses to prepare the women for Sun Salutation B. Some of the women tire easily because they are hungry, ill and have low energy or have injuries of some kind. They take time out, as they need to, sit against the wall and rest a while. After our last class (Wed 11th June), there was a tangible air of ease as the women eased into Savasana, to take rest on their backs. After a few moments, I found myself getting up and heading for my camera. Nooooo! Hanna, my co-teacher whispered urgently. I remembered instantly, halted in my tracks. How on earth could I forget, even for a moment? It was the look of peace on the women’s faces and the presence of peace in their bodies as they lay still resting that I wanted to avow. To see again and share with others at some other time to show that it is possible to feel a sense of safety and peace after experiences of extreme trauma, even if only for a few moment. It’s a good thing there are two of us teaching together. There is so much to learn and remember and of course mistakes can easily be made. Thankfully, with two of us, there is less chance of serious error. This is very comforting in the midst of so much that is new.

Nyacyonga
Friday 13th June 2009

This is a completely new yoga group that we have just set up at the Nyacyonga District Health Center on the outskirts of Kigali. It’s about 30 minutes from the centre and is the furthest class on my teaching schedule. I enjoyed the views whizzing past as we drove and took photos through the open car window. We got to the centre round 1pm as arranged, and introduced our selves at reception. Seraphine, the co-ordinator was occupied elsewhere so we took a seat on one of the long wooden benches and waited. We sat with 30 odd men women and children who were waiting to be seen for various reasons including from prenatal care, birthing, well-child care including vaccinations, diagnosis and treatment of acute illnesses such as malaria and endemic infectious diarrhea and HIV evaluation, care and treatment with antiretroviral (ARV) medications.

By the time Seraphine arrived it was a little too late for us to give the class. To clear the space, wait while everyone got changed have a decent time for the class and then pack up would have made us late for our next appointment. This was African yoga time – very different from English yoga time. I am learning to go with the flow, be more flexible with time and enjoy the space this gives to become more aware of and engaged with my surroundings. Still, we couldn’t let go of our schedule completely so had to disappointment those who wanted the class to start that day (Wedensday 11th) as planned.

We visited the Nyaconga group again today (Friday 13th). We arrived early to set up and allow for people to get ready. Still, we had to wait for some time for people to change and be ready to begin. This group is made up of the health centre staff and took place along a shaded corridor outside nursing rooms full of inpatients receiving treatment at the centre.

It was a very different experience teaching this group of well educated young people as opposed to the women service user groups, most of whom will not have had such a high level of schooling. Everyone was completely new to yoga, wondered what it was all about and wanted to know a bit about it before we began. Many of the participants wanted us to teach in French, some wanted English but we settled on Kinyarwanda so that everyone would understand and we could practice our talking through. It was a pleasure to teach such a lively group and experience their surprise and wonder as they executed movements they had not done before and encountered the bodily sensations, thoughts and feeling that came with this new form of breath synchronised exercise. It was also a challenge because they all chatted away through most of the class, some even answering mobile calls and texting as they went along. They ignored my suggestion to put aside their phones while doing yoga. Not seeing any reason why they should not. This reminded me of going to the cinema in London with my mum many, many years ago. My mother is Nigerian. I forget what we were seeing but we were quietly talking through the film. After a while someone behind us leant forward; “Shhhhh! Be quiet”. My mother, offended, turned round and raising her voice said, “What do you mean keep quiet? You can’t tell me to keep quiet.” She kissed her teeth and we carried on. For her, and me when I am out with her, it is normal to talk at social events, be it the cinema, theatre, live music, whatever. It’s a cultural thing. Relaxation was also different with this group. People found it hard to keep still and stop talking. Once the movement stopped, it seemed the session was over. We explained that relaxation was an important part of the practice.

The class was also attended by a whole host of people who had come to seek help and treatment at the centre, so we had a sizable audience for the proceedings with much chatting, laughing and commentary as it was a new experience for them also. I cant say whether this was a disturbing distraction for those doing yoga or whether is didn’t make any difference at all. Interestingly, after the class a few people wanted to know why the Sun Salutation greeted sun and not God. I said it was because the sun is the source of energy for all life on earth. This answer seemed to be acceptable. I look forward to seeing how the group develops as they become more familiar with yoga and discussing with them what they think about this practice from a cultural point of view. In London, people of African and Caribbean heritage make up a very small percentage to the overall yoga community. I often wonder why this is. I know there is a common perception in the black community that yoga is perceived as a religious practice and no not compatible with Christian belief. If anyone can shed any light on this, your comments will be very welcome.

Gadaffi Mosque
Sunday 14th June 2009

Over a hundred children between the ages of 4 and 20 gather every Sunday at the Gadaffi Mosque in Nyamirambo district to attend the children’s programme. They play football, take lessons in English, receive supportive and motivational talk reminding them to take good care of themselves, take their medicine, study well etc, and, at the moment, prepare for the Day of the African Child celebrations. The younger children 4-10 have been having yoga classes once a week for some time and love it. We hope to start giving yoga classes to the teenage girls in a week or two.

I first taught the children’s session last Sunday and had been looking forward to meeting them all week. After they had finished their weekly support and motivational talk from Bertin, who runs the children’s programme, about 40 odd of the younger children, ran over to where we were waiting in the outdoor yoga space, smiling, chatting and clamoring to hold our hands. What a welcome. The innocence and love that emanates from young children must be one of the eternal joys in life. The class is held on a big open square of dusty concrete without mats. Slowly we arranged ourselves into a circle, held hands and, with eyes closed, stood in silence for a while - the little ones peaking from time to time. This is how we commenced an hour of fun yoga. We did a few rounds of sun salutation A then tackled sun salutation B. Once in downward dog we counted to ten in English, Hanna and I doing our best to slow down their quickening pace. Trying to keep an eye on so many of them was almost impossible but amazingly most of them stayed with us. We played with various standing poses, balances and sitting partner work. It was definitely the highlight of my teaching week.

The session today was equally fun although the children were a little less focused and therefore more restless. We did more standing partner balances, trying to keep off the dusty floor and worked in smaller groups. They play well together but often want to have Hanna n I as a partner instead of each other. Especially Hanna because she is a muzungu – white person! After teaching the children and hanging out with everyone for a while, watching some of the chidren playing football, I walk back with hanna and other volunteers through the busy streets of Nyamirambo enjoying the sights to be seen, wishing i could have taken more photos.

Thinking about my teaching practice, usually flowing and full of detailed instruction, here it hobbles along awkwardly. Much as I feel I have reached a certain level of attunement in teaching yoga, my slowness in picking up the language throws me back to a that challenging and uncomfortable place we inhabit when learning something new. Without words, it feels at times like starting all over again. On the positive side, this is a wonderful opportunity for Svadhyaya, which means self-study. Using our experiences in life, our mistakes, hurts and challenges, joys and successes, to help us cultivate greater self-awareness that works for the betterment of our selves and our community and world at large. In this vein, it’s interesting to watch myself oscillating between and tussles with varying ego states of mind and emotion that are harsh and throw me off centre, clouding access to more forgiving inner resource. What is required here is that invaluable tool that new and old yoga students are encouraged to adopt: ‘the beginners mind’. This is the child-like attitude of open curiosity, uninhibited enthusiasm and a non-judgmental receptivity to new experiences. Teaching from this frame of mind, the inner critic, ever ready to judge, quietens.

Beginners mind enables a letting go of overly high expectations that I should be teaching flowing Astanga Vinyasa classes in fluent Kinyarwanda inside two weeks! Instead I attempt to fully inhabit my body and mind and tune into the present moment of experience and be with the women, children or mixed group I am teaching. The present moment of experience being the most potent place to be when learning anything new and the best place from which to meet all challenges that arise. As the Ineza women say, Buhoro Buhoro! - Slowly, Slowly! And as the late Pattabhi Jois would say, “practice, practice and all is coming.”